The Weavemaker

By Paul Wigmore

The tapestries are the very essence of life, and they are guarded by just one sentient being. He is older than time itself. He created time and knows all secrets old and new, stories not even born yet.
He knows them as he is the one that weaves the secrets on his loom. He sits in his room and weaves his tapestries for each and every world. The thread he uses is invisible to the naked eye as it's so fine it's impossible to be seen, unless you are the weavemaker of course.

Then nothing is unseen, impossible or unimaginable. Nothing is impossible if you weave the stories through which every living thing leads their lives...but not all stories have happy endings as Loretta was about to find out.

She turned and looked at Saul, still sat quietly, watching and asked in a dry whisper through angry tears. “Why did you make us do that? What are you? He didn't answer but gestured towards the beermat, still slowly spinning on its own axis and said “You can end his pain now if you wish.”

She slammed her hand down angrily on the mat and immediately the sound of the beating heart in her head stopped.
A defining moment for Loretta and the path she was about to embark on, the troubles for the woman of two tongues was only just beginning, her thread was on its darkest path...but could she be saved?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Wigmore
• Release date: Nov 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311242938

Book preview

The Weavemaker

by Paul Wigmore

~~~

Smashwords Edition

First published 2015

Copyright © 2015 by Paul Wigmore

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please write to the author addressed,

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Please check out The Tapestry if you haven’t already. See the website below for further details.

pwigmore1.wix.com/thetapestry

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

"Destiny itself is like a wonderful wide tapestry in which every thread

Is guided by an unspeakable tender hand, placed beside another

Thread and held and carried by a hundred others."

–Rainer Maria Wilke,

Bohemian-Austrian poet and novelist.

This book is dedicated to my long standing friend Carlie,

more affectionately known as Blondie.

"May our worlds always be woven together,

no matter which paths we take on our journey through this life,

I am sure the weavemaker will ensure

that our threads are never far apart."

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter One

Mind if I sit down?

The question was answered before Stone had a chance to lift his eyes above the rim of his third, (or was it his fourth?) Remy and ice.

The chair opposite him scraped against the wooden floor of the bar he had begun to feel comfortable in. He knew that was all about to change (again) when he saw detective Baker squeeze his oversize frame between the table and chair opposite him and place a myriad of photos between them.

Stone took another gulp of his firewater slowly before deliberately placing his glass on the table next to the photos and eyeing his uninvited guest. He had no need to look at the photos, he’d seen them all before.

A woman, floating somehow above a hill; and there were pictures of strange creatures which Stone could only describe as Dragons. The most terrifying picture of them all was the one of the demon like being that had haunted Stone’s dreams for the past four years. In fact, it wasn’t just his dreams that were being haunted, that would have been bearable. There had been many episodes since the day on the hill that he had seen the Demon in all of its terrifying glory. As he walked along the High St, it would be following some Mother pushing her pram, with its long spindly arms raised above its head, mocking her from behind. But then the Demon would look straight over at him, straight through his eyes and deep into his soul, touching him in a way that Stone could never understand but he knew he had just been violated somehow. The mirror became an object of fear and distrust as on more than one occasion he had looked into its silvery window to the soul. Only to find the demon staring right back at him, but from behind his own eyes. The face was the same but… the eyes, they were not his own. They were a deep purple mottled with black. The rest of his face would then begin to transform, skin melting and jaw bone protruding. His ears would lengthen and become hairy but he always pulled away from the mirror before his reflection transformed completely, scared of what might become of him if he were to carry on watching the gross transformation in front of him

He had moved house three times in the past year alone to try to rid himself of the demon. He often wondered if he were going crazy, but then he would scrabble to find the pictures he had locked in his red safety deposit box under his bed and know the truth. That being crazy would be much better than this.

Stone pushed the photos to the side and looked directly at Baker. So you found me…Now what?

Well how about you start looking at those pictures while I order a drink. Baker clicked his fingers and called a waitress to the booth. Stone ignored the pictures, he had hoped the booth would afford him some privacy tonight. He needed time to gather his thoughts. Or run away from them, block them out completely if possible. He was well on his way too, until Baker showed up.

Stone had been following Clara and Seb since he bumped into her at the hospital. Although, to say he bumped into her was slightly understating the point. He had been knocked off his feet as she floated out of the door into the corridor. He had been sent to the hospital on a column filler as he worked for the Manchester Muse as a reporter and some old dear had just hit 102. Apparently this was newsworthy, or at least a quarter column on page 18.

So to be knocked over by a woman floating out of a private room and then literally floating away along the corridor was the last thing he expected to see.

He picked himself up, ensuring his camera was not damaged and followed the strange sight along the corridor. She was with a younger man whose feet were firmly planted on the ground. The woman was only about three or four inches above the floor, but that was enough for Stone to forget about the old dear and find out just what in the world had knocked him off his feet and floated away down the corridor.

When they got outside, he was privy to even more strange happenings. As the woman floated past, flowers bloomed in a matter of seconds, birds hovered around her head. The wind ruffled her hair… and nothing else, and he was sure he could hear a noise; much like copper pans being gently banged against each other. It was a beautiful, melodic sound, but as he headed out the door after them, he fell to his knees and laid his hands on the ground as the bright colours, beautiful music and amazing aromas had overloaded his senses. He put a hand up to shield his eyes from the sudden dazzling brightness of the sun and the clarity of the colours around him, he could see things in such detail, if only for a brief moment he could see each and every single blade of grass swaying on the ground before him. Each one had a very slightly different shade of green to its neighbour, making each blade as individual as a snowflake. He thought he could hear the flowers singing to him, just a very quiet whisper of a song that danced past his ears and was gone within a moment.

He managed to lift his head up long enough to memorise the number plate as they drove away… and till this day, he wished he hadn’t.

He had been drawn to the odd couple ever since. Many a night he had sat outside Clara’s house in his beat up Volvo and watched the strange illuminations emanating from the windows and eventually followed them to Wirksworth.

What really messed with his head was the fact that no one…not a living soul seemed to remember what had happened that night.

Stone had woken up in the morning, lay in a bush behind The Trident pub, not knowing why he was there or how he had got there. His journalistic instinct told him to follow the man that ran past him as he tore himself free from the bush.

The man was babbling nonsensical utterings to himself as he rushed by. Something about a tapestry and how it was his now, which made no sense to Stone. But as he collected himself and his Nikon from the bushes and started after the deranged man who was now slapping himself on the side of the head as he ran, as if there was something lodged in his ear which he was trying to be rid of. He heard two other words… "Stupid dragon", which nearly brought him crashing back down to the ground, had his hand not found an old disused fencepost at the side of the path.

He managed to steady himself before his legs gave way. It hadn’t been a dream. He had really seen a dragon and a demon fight to the death on this hill. He had seen Clara stand, valiantly against the demon. He remembered watching from his vantage point in the bushes behind the pub as the great demon had appeared and made his way to the hill. Crushing cities and thousands of innocent people underfoot. He instantly felt a sucker punch thrown at his gut as he realised Clara was gone as he had become quite fond of her from a distance. There was just something about her that made her instantly likeable, he just wasn’t sure if he wanted her to Mother him or he wanted to fuck her…he also wondered what was left of the cities and the inhabitants that the demon had crushed underfoot.

As his grief and sorrow was threatening to overwhelm him, his eyes fell on the strange man; now further down the path and nearly out of sight. Something clicked inside his head like a tumbler in a lock…Click. That man was a dead man. It was Seb…He had watched in disgust and horror as the demon Saul had thrown the dragon into the Pub that Seb had taken refuge in, crushing him underneath, and yet here he was, bold as brass on a morning run, bitching about dragons and tapestries.

Stone made a decision then, one which he would later regret. Move now and find out what this fucker’s up to before you lose sight of him altogether.

He pushed himself off the post and stumbled down the Trident Path, half-heartedly attempting to be inconspicuous but he knew that the lunatic in front of him (who was now roaring profanities at itself or the sky)either knew he was following anyway and didn’t give a rat’s ass or was just too insane to care. Whichever…Stone was glad as he was about as inconspicuous as a bear at a picnic.

His gait was stumbling and his head was reeling, his footsteps were heavy and clumsy, but he just knew he had to follow the dead man. Before he managed to lift his head fully up, he saw the sunlight glint off something on the ground in front of him. As he got closer, he could see it was a knife. But this wasn’t any knife. Stone knew exactly what this was. Even as he stood over it, entranced by the possibilities of it. The blade began to shine and sparkle with a strange green hue. He reached down to pick it up and marvelled at the intricate design of the hilt which had two dragons entwined, around a ball of flames. He quickly pocketed the knife and carried on after the crazy man.

Seb had turned right through a leafy archway into the church parking lot and Stone followed, crouching down onto his haunches behind an old neglected tombstone. The pregnant clouds above had been threatening to spill their load since Stone had come round, their dark presence shadowing the day like portents of doom. The air had even become heavy and cloying just before the rain fell. It immediately soaked the two men, of course Seb didn’t seem to notice at all.

The man seemed to be having an internal struggle as he was smashing car windows with his bare hands, and ripping doors open with un-natural strength, but he kept smashing his head on the cars and punching himself in the face too. It was obvious he was searching for something. But something inside was trying to stop him finding whatever it was that he was looking for.

Of course, that something was Seb. Stone had no idea what was going on, he was too scared to move, even though it was a slightly comical sight, watching a man punch himself in the face and gut. If the abomination in the car park caught sight of him behind the tombstone, he had no doubt his head may be just as easily ripped from his shoulders as the car doors were from their hinges.

He needn’t have worried though, Saul was having a hard time keeping control of the little spider under the glass. The spider being Seb, cornered in his own mind but desperately trying to stop Saul from finding the tapestry. Clara had taken it from its frame before they had left for Wirksworth and put it in the boot of Seb’s car. She wanted to take it, just in case she had said. It was folded up inside a suitcase in Seb’s boot right now, and that’s what Saul was looking for.

The demon was weary from battle, he would have died altogether, had he not remembered the little ant that he had crushed with the dragon in the pub. As Gavin had begun to cut his own flesh, therefore cutting Saul’s flesh as they had been joined in blood when Gavin had been Saul’s little apprentice. At the last moment before his demonic soul would have been finally defeated by a little ant. Saul managed to use the last reserves of his energy to force his own soul into the body of the ant that had helped Clara. The body was dying due to internal injuries and as much as it went against everything he stood for. Saul had to heal the man so that he could survive in the body himself. He locked the conscience of the man away, behind more closed doors. But the man was strong and Saul was weak from battle.

Seb was in a world of his own memories and imaginations, lost in a world unknown but all too familiar to him. He had been sat on the sofa marking books for tomorrows classes when Sophia, his daughter walked up behind him and put her arms around his neck and gently planted a kiss on his cheek.

It’s time to wake up now Dad she said quietly. Seb pulled her closer and pressed her cheek against his.

Don’t be silly princess, I’m awake, I just look tired from all this marking. Sophia sat next to her Dad and looked him straight in the eye.

No Dad, Saul has you trapped, just like he did Gavin. Seb turned to face her, putting the books down on the table in front of him as he did so. Memories came rushing back to him from the battle on Trident hill. Clara… oh god, she was dead. Why wasn’t he dead? And what was he doing at home now with Sophia? How was he alive? He needed to do something, he needed to not be sat here marking books right now.

I should be dead he said as he got up and strode to the mirror above the fireplace to examine his face, realisation settling in. He held his chin in his hand as he turned his face this way and that way. He looked alive…but how? He remembered hiding in the pub and then Saul throwing the dragon on top of the pub. He remembered the crushing pain as the dragon crashed through the wall and on top of him. Sophia appeared in the mirror behind him.

Clara helped me to come to you. Dad…if you don’t wake up then it’s all been for nothing. Saul will still win.

"Clara...is she alive? His hopes were buoyed with thoughts of Clara. The last time he had seen her she was about to be crushed underfoot by the humongous demon Saul. But something had stopped him. Seb didn’t know how she had stopped him from crushing her but he was glad.

His happiness lasted but for a brief moment as he looked at the sorrow in Sophia’s eyes. No explanation or further clarification was needed. She was gone. He placed his hands either side of the mirror and looked deep into his own eyes. As if there would be answers there; sadly there were none.

She will come to you soon, but she is not strong enough at the moment. She is still doing some fine tuning, whatever that means.

It was an easy smile that spread across his face as he fondly recalled Clara using the expression to explain how sometimes her psychic powers were ‘on point,’ and other days, not so good. He turned to draw Sophia into him and they hugged tightly…as if it would be their last.

Dad I’m scared.

I know Princess, I know he gently kissed her on top of her ash blonde head. The last time he saw her was before he sent her to media college in London. She seemed to have grown up so much since then. Her head reached his shoulder and her hair was just past her shoulder blades. She was growing into a fine young woman, and Seb wasn’t about to let some Demon destroy the world that she lived in.

Does Clara know what I need to do, can she help me?

Yes…She says you have to get the tapestry, don’t let Saul take it

Is she talking to you now? Seb was beginning to find this whole situation a little odd.

Yeah… it’s weird though, it sounds like an echo inside my head… sort of tickles inside when she speaks

"But you’re not psychic, how can you hear her?

Dad, I’m talking to you somehow, and you are…well I’m not quite sure where you are. Clara said you had been trapped inside your own head. I don’t get it either, it’s all a bit weird right now. I’m still in London though. Nobody even remembers what happened here, just me. But you have to stop him from finding that tapestry.

Seb pulled her round and held her at arm’s length in front of him. Why… what can the tapestry do?

Clara says that the tapestry now holds the talisman again, it will be protecting it but if Saul finds a way to extract the talisman then there will be no way to defeat him. None of this was making any sense to Sophia, she just wanted to be at home with her Dad in the physical world. She had already packed and was about to call for a taxi to the station when she felt the first tickling echo inside her head.

After the initial shock of having one of her Dad’s friends talking to her without being in the room, and not using a telephone or some sort of instant messaging service, she listened to the story that Clara told her, about the dragons and the demon Saul. Clara explained to her what had happened in brief bullet points as there really was no time to spare. Saul had not yet been defeated as they had thought. He had used the nearest body available to him to house his despicable ill-gotten soul as his demonic form perished. That body was Seb, he was near death, crushed under concrete and Dragon meat. Lungs punctured and ribcage smashed. He would have been dead had Saul not taken possession of his body. The only problem was that Saul had healed him for his own purposes and they were not good.

When Seb rose from the rubble of the Trident Inn, he was more Demon than he was man. His own conscience had been locked behind a door and Sophia was the only one that could help him escape his own internal nightmare.

She sat down and let Clara (Dad’s dead friend) do what she needed to do, next thing she knew, she was there, watching him as he marked his papers, and yet…she wasn’t there at all.

So how do I get out of here then? Wherever here is.

You don’t get out Dad, you have to force Saul out and reclaim your body. Clara says… she took in a breath as she realised what she was trying to tell her Father. It’s you or him, but he is weak from battle. Get the Tapestry Dad, Clara says it will protect you

Hold on, I have to get The Tapestry, but I can’t let Saul take it, even though Saul is using my body right now... So when I get it… won’t Saul just have got it?

Just trust Clara please Dad…Ok?

Seb was more than a little confused right now but knew he could trust Clara and Sophia to guide him.

Right ok, so what do I do?

It’s still your body Dad, you just have to try seeing through your other eyes, the eyes in your head. Not the eyes inside your head. Try moving your actual arms instead of the arms holding me right now. Clara says that Saul has been listening to us. He knows that I’m here and I should go. As if right on cue Seb heard a commotion outside the door. The door to his inner sanctum. This was the room in his mind in which he felt safest and most at peace. This was his family room, and it was about to be breached by a demon.

The stamping of the cloven hooves got nearer as Sophia faded from his arms. The vanishing beauty of his daughter was like a portent to the ugly evil about to explode through the door in her place.

Seb was on his own now and for that he was glad. Even though Sophia hadn’t really been there, he didn’t want her to be there in any sense of the word should any harm come to him.

He didn’t have much time, he had to think fast before the monstrosity came crashing through that door. Although Seb was not sure what would happen when he did. He still wasn’t too sure if he was dead or alive anyway. He concentrated hard on his vision, trying to see what Saul would be seeing from his eyes. Not the Saul inside of him, it almost hurt the brain inside his brain to think about that. He saw a flash of light which was not in the room and as he did so, he turned his head and saw some poor soul getting up out of a bush. Immediately Seb thought, for god’s sake man, whoever