The Tapestry by Paul Wigmore Page A

And why? The implications of that thought were too horrendous to consider. But she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering as she sat in the comfy chair by the fire as just to her right was a small occasional table with a picture taken of her and Stanley on their last holiday together. The picture was in a gilded metal frame and as she picked it up she ran one loving finger over his face. They were in Mallorca at the time; they had gone every year since their marriage. She was only twenty six when they married and he was four years her senior. He called her his little button as he had always thought she had a little button nose. He used it to jibe her sometimes but secretly she loved it. In the picture he had just leant in for a kiss and told his little button how much he loved her.
        ‘ I will always love you my little button’ he had whispered into her ear as he kissed her on the cheek. He had always said that no matter how shiny and pretty a button; there were none in the button drawer that could compare to his. It was corny but that’s what she loved about him.
        As she held the picture in her hands she thought she saw a flicker of something...something bright and yellow flicker to the left of her out of the corner of her eye. But as she turned to look, there was nothing. She stared at the tapestry on the wall. It was something her grandmot her Isabel had left her in the will and along with it came a message.
        My dearest Clara, you have a gift that has also become your curse, and only you and I can know why this is so.
    For the last half of my life I have been the keeper of the dragonfire and now I am nearing the end of my life. I must pass the responsibility onto you.
        The T apestry I am giving you contains the dragonfire, of which you will become the keeper. It was given to me in payment for the services which we both now provide. He was a poor man and this was all he had. He had told me that he could no longer bear to hold the responsibility and that he was too old to carry such a burden.
        I never k new at the time what he meant, as I know you don’t now, and I hope you never have to find out.
        It is a beautiful tapestry which I ask you now to hang on a prominent wall in your home. Look after it and it will look after you should the day come, which I hope it never does.
        I love you my dearest Clara... Grandma xxx
        There it was again, that little flicker, what was it? She looked towards the tapestry again. It was about four foot by six feet long. Woven into the design were the images of two Chinese dragons, they were in obvious battle. Their faces were full of hate, at the very centre of The Tapestry was a ball of flame which had smashed together between the two of them. It was the middle of that flame that now caught Clara’s attention. She supposed this was the dragonfire that her grandma had spoken of... there was something in the middle of that ball of flame. And it appeared to be glowing.
        Just as she noticed the glowing fire, she heard the sound too. It was a horrendous, unearthly sound. She had heard it before, or something like it... it was a sound that she would have heard on the astral planes.... but she was on this side of the curtain. How could this be? The sound was like that of a cackling hyena, only this hyena sounded as if it was ripping the meat from its victim whilst it was laughing. Her body froze and it felt as if her blood had run cold. There were goose pimples now searching for the sky all over her body. There was a sense of impending doom in the air that was almost tangible and she had no idea why. The air all around her had changed. It seemed to be charged with an electric current. She looked back at the tapestry and the eyes of each dragon had turned a bright green. This can’t be happening, she thought. And as if in response to her thought, just to prove her wrong the dragons seemed to move their heads towards her...