Philip was afraid; he didn’t see any of his fervent prayers being answered. Aunt Arleth was moving toward Sinjun. He dashed forward, hurling himself up onto the bed next to his stepmother, covering her body with his, trying to shield her from Aunt Arleth.
“Sinjun!” he shouted, grabbing her arms and shaking her. He shouted her name again, and this time she opened her eyes and stared up at him.
“Philip? Is that you? Is she gone yet?”
“No, she isn’t, Sinjun. You must stay awake now. You must.”
“Get out of here, boy!”
“Oh God,” Sinjun whispered.
“And did you know, you silly boy, that her real husband—your grandfather—put a rowan cross over the door to keep her from entering? He knew she was fornicating with a kelpie. Ah, but Satan had sent a charm that protected her even from the rowan cross.”
“Please go away, Aunt.”
Aunt Arleth drew herself up and slowly stared from the boy to the woman who lay on the bed, those damned covers to her chin. Her eyes were open and filled with fear. It pleased Arleth to see that fear.
“You fetched your pa. You filled his ears with lies, aye, you brought him back with lies, you made him feel guilt. He didn’t want to come back, you know. He wants her to leave. He has her money, so why bother with the likes of her?”
“Please go away, Aunt.”
“I heard you speaking of a rowan cross and kelpies. Hello, Aunt, Philip. How is Joan?”
Philip jumped at the sound of Serena’s voice. She’d glided up silent as a ghost to stand beside him at the edge of the bed. “Her name is Sinjun. Take Aunt Arleth away from here, Serena.”
“Why ever for, my dear boy? Now, about the rowan cross. They are nasty things, you know, Aunt. I detest them. Why would you speak of them? I’m a witch, true, but the rowan cross has no effect on me.”
Philip wondered if he wasn’t losing his wits. He wasn’t afraid now. No matter what else Serena was, she wouldn’t allow Aunt Arleth to hurt Sinjun.
“Go away, Serena, else I’ll crown you with a rowan cross!”
“Oh no you won’t, Aunt. You can’t hurt me and well you know it. I’ll always be too strong for you, and too good.”
Aunt Arleth looked pale and furious, colder than the loch in January.
Then, to Philip’s utter relief, his father strode into the room. He stopped short and frowned at his son, who was hovering on the bed next to Joan as if he were protecting her, for God’s sake. Serena was looking vague and beautiful, like a fairy princess who had mistakenly stepped into Bedlam and didn’t know what to do.
As for Aunt Arleth, there was no expression at all on her thin face. She was looking down at her pale hands, at the age spots that dotted the backs.
“Colin?”
He smiled now and walked to the bed. Sinjun was awake and had her wits about her, finally. “Hello, Joan. You’re back again. I’m pleased with you.”
“What’s a kelpie?”
“An evil being that lives in lochs and inland lakes. He can assume different forms. He gets his power from the devil. It’s an interesting question. Why do you wish to know?”
“I don’t know. The word just kept coming into my mind. Thank you. May I have some water?”
It was Philip who helped her to drink. “Hello to you,” she said to him. “What’s wrong, Philip? Do I look that horrid?”
The boy lightly touched his fingertips to her cheek. “Oh no, Sinjun, you look fine. You’re better, aren’t you?”
“Yes. You know something? I’m hungry.” She looked at Aunt Arleth and said, “You dislike me and you wish me ill. I don’t understand you. I’ve done nothing to harm you.”
“This is my house, missy! I will—”
Colin said mildly, “No, Aunt Arleth. You will stay away. No more from you.” He watched her leave the room, slowly, unwillingly, and he was afraid that her mind, tenuous at best, was losing its meager hold. He turned back to hear his wife say to Philip, “Get me the pocket pistol, Philip. It’s in the pocket of my riding habit. Put it under my pillow.”