The blank, glazed expression on Evi
e’s face snapped into life. She lifted her chin.
‘John, this ain’t right,’ she said.
‘Say it,’ he hissed. ‘Tribulation Smith must die.’
‘This isn’t Tribulation Smith. This is Adam Flint. He’s done me no wrong, nor you.’
‘He wants only to possess you, like his forerunners. Evangeline! You know it.’
‘No, I don’t. He ain’t quite the same. I don’t think he wants to do those things. I think he just wants to love, and he don’t know how.’
‘He comes to Saxonhurst in a direct line from Tribulation Smith. He is the same man in a different time. He must be sacrificed. Evangeline, if you don’t say the words, I am doomed to another hundred years …’
‘What will you do if you gain your life?’
‘I will love you. I will be lord of Saxonhurst. We will rule together. Say the words.’
The villagers lurched forward, as if they meant to pitch the corn dolly on the fire regardless.
‘That won’t work!’ Evie shouted. ‘If we burn without me saying the words, it all goes bad anyway. It’s my choice. I have to want to.’ She looked Calderwood directly in the eye and spoke softly. ‘And I don’t want to. I don’t think you’ve earned my conscience.’
The roar of rage from the fiery Calderwood was enough to deafen all who heard it. The flames reached to the stars, while the villagers howled around them.
Adam thought he might faint, overwhelmed with smoke and heat and terror, but he held on, trembling in Evie’s bounden arms, teeth chattering.
‘Begone,’ yelled Evie at the full force of her lungs. ‘Begone, Calderwood. I compel thee.’
The fire turned black and then it was no more than smoke and ashes, thick and choking, turning the villagers’ cries to coughs with instant effect.
‘Shit.’ Evie hacked along with the rest of them. ‘He’s a cantankerous old sod. He did that on purpose.’
Adam couldn’t reply. He felt as if his entire body and soul had been filled up with awe and dread, so much so that it was pouring out of him. Awe of Evie, dread of everything else.
‘You OK, vicar?’ she croaked. ‘Sorry. Bit intense, yeah?’ She raised her voice. ‘Will someone untie these fucking ropes?’
‘What you playing at, Evie?’ asked the woman who had coupled them sourly. ‘That wasn’t meant to happen.’
‘I’m through with that bloke,’ she said. ‘He’s all talk. He won’t do nothing for the village. He’ll just try and take everything over and be Lord Ego. Do we need that?’
‘He’s supposed to get his vengeance.’
‘I’m bored of vengeance. He’s been avenging himself for centuries. He needs to start thinking about forgiveness instead. Ain’t that right, vicar? Forgiveness.’
‘It’s – a virtue,’ said Adam weakly.
The bonds began to loosen and he tottered, Evie holding him upright, her head on his shoulder.
‘He loves you, though, Eve,’ said the woman, finally releasing Adam and Evie from the corn dolly before setting to work on releasing them from each other. ‘Such a romantic story.’
‘He don’t know about love,’ she said wistfully. ‘Not really. And I don’t call it romantic. Getting me into witchcraft, knocking me up, letting another man marry me while he runs off and hides from the witchfinder. It’s not romantic, really.’
‘You aren’t – the same person – surely,’ said Adam, the words coming sporadically from a still-slack mouth.
‘Well, no, not literally. But her DNA is in me, you know, and so is her soul. Calderwood made it happen, not sure how. She’s travelled down the line for generations. I’m just the latest poor sap to get lumbered with her.’
The final bond was loosened and the pair of them fell to the ground, still entangled. Adam’s legs were weak as he scrabbled about, trying to get up before the ugly-looking crowd closed in on them.