Mist & Whispers by C.M. Lucas Page A

to find the books as saving Scott’s was.
     
    IT WAS ALMOST five o’clock when they reached Burrow Mump. During the night, the clouds had gathered and rain had begun to fall, leaving the morning sombre without the song of summer birds.
    The hill looked quite small from where they parked but by the time they had reached the base, the steepness took them by surprise. The mud was soft beneath their feet and the wind blew harshly, bringing the mood of the sleepy foursome down even further. The five hour car journey had been more than uncomfortable, and with no sleep and no food to keep them going, they were all looking forward to finding the first book and going home for some rest.
    Sheep grazed the wet grass in scattered herds, and as they reached the top of the hill, they heard an airy voice floating around the ruins.
    At first glance, it was obvious that St Michael’s was just a crumb of its former self. With no roof to shelter the main body of the church, it had been left wide open to the elements, taking a thrashing over the many years it had been forgotten. Though it had been stripped of all its sentiment and reason for being, a presence still lingered around the remains. After only a few paces, they found themselves at an archway. Peering through, Anya could see it mirrored another at the other end of the church and it was there they found the source of the voice.
    A small family were sitting in a circle by the tower entrance, eyes closed and holding hands. They’d have looked like an average, everyday family; a mother, father, son and a daughter, had they not all been dressed in long, flowing garments, and if their arms and necks had not been weighed down by all the beads, bangles and string necklaces. The mother was talking while the father and daughter appeared deep in meditation, serene smiles resting on their lips. The son, however, was as miserable as grey skies above.
    ‘The sun should rise in about five minutes.’
    The woman must have heard Tim’s voice, or felt their presence, as her eyes burst open and she looked straight at them. ‘Oh, how lovely, more beings have come to join our energy circle!’ She got to her feet, nudging her flock out of their preoccupation as she rose.
    The family came over, three quarters smiling wildly and seemingly ready to welcome the Four into their fold. ‘I’m Harmony,’ the woman said and she wrapped her arms around Anya and pulled her in for a hug. Anya looked around to the others in a silent plea for help, only to catch the back of Stephanie’s head as she made a quick getaway.
    Two minutes later, when the hug had surpassed awkward and started bordering on inappropriate, Harmony released Anya and placed her hands on the shoulders of the bespectacled man beside her, whose mousy beard was even longer than the woman’s tangled locks. ‘And this is my life partner, Light.’
    The awkwardness aside, Anya thought it was nice to finally meet someone with messier hair than her own. It was a rarity.
    ‘And these are our children, Breeze and Ocean.’ Breeze was exactly like her mother. Long ash-blonde hair, two small braids swept back from her temples and tied with floral hair ties. Her nectar eyes were adrift on a utopian sea of peace and free love – a look both her parents shared. Ocean, on the other hand, looked as if he wanted the world to open up and drag him down to depths where embarrassment and shame were the smallest of worries.
    ‘What exactly are you doing?’ Anya asked Harmony.
    ‘We are here to welcome the sun and let it into our heart spaces, to shine light on our lives and allow us to rid our spiritual flower beds of their weeds. We are going to be doing some tapping just before the solstice sun rises, if you’d like to join us?’
    Ocean rolled his deep blue eyes and crossed his arms. Anya wasn’t sure what tapping entailed, but she was sure she’d feel stupid doing it.
    ‘Ugh, this is all we need,’ Michael scowled. ‘Happy clappy