by TJ Green
“Nothing’s wrong with me. For a start, I don’t think he’s trying to kill himself. I think he’s trying to blow off steam, and surfing is Reuben’s way of doing that. He surfs. A lot. For hours. He’s very good at it. And I woke up in bed with a beautiful woman. Why wouldn’t I be thinking of sex?” He grinned suggestively.
Avery was momentarily flummoxed. Did he just call her beautiful? “I’m not beautiful.”
“Yes, you are.” Alex looked away, frowning. “What’s he doing?”
Avery followed his gaze, and saw Reuben had paddled out a long way and was standing up on his surfboard, facing out to sea. He seemed to be gesturing towards the waves. Slowly but surely, the waves were starting to rise. El stood on the shore, looking as if she was shouting at him.
“Is he doing that wave thing?” Avery asked, shocked.
The waves rose higher and higher, swelling beneath Reuben, who had dropped to a crouch, looking far too small and vulnerable.
“Oh, shit.” Alex said abruptly, getting out of the car and running towards the beach. Avery followed, the wind and the rain shattering her peaceful mood.
Within seconds she was soaked, and she raced down the path, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She could hear Alex shouting. “El, get back, get back!”
But El was already turning and running back towards them.
The giant wave beneath Reuben started to fold and Reuben plunged with it, riding it towards the shore. Avery stopped dead on the wooden path, watching nervously. It looked terrifying.
For a few seconds he disappeared beneath the swell of the collapsing wave, and then he shot out through the end, the spray ferocious.
Alex was up ahead and he had grabbed El’s hand, running back with her. The wave hit the shore where El had stood only seconds earlier and raced up the sands. Reuben maintained his balance, crouched, arms outstretched as the wave brought him to the shallows, and as the wave disappeared, he paddled to shore. The waves had crashed just below the sand dunes, and Avery ran to join El and Alex, who stood on the boardwalk just above the water line. Driftwood and seaweed lay strewn across the beach, abandoned by the receding wave.
Alex looked furious and El looked shocked. The wave was lethal, it could have killed Reuben and El. Didn’t he see her?
Reuben stood on the shore, looking back at them.
“Wait here,” Alex said, and ran to Reuben.
Avery pulled El towards her. “Are you all right?”
El was crying. “What’s he doing?”
“He’s grieving, El.”
“He could have killed me.”
“He probably didn’t see you.” Avery reasoned, trying to reassure herself as well as El.
“I never thought I’d say this, Avery, but I can’t look at Reuben right now.” El rubbed her eyes and then wrapped her arms around herself. “I want to go.”
Avery looked beyond El to where Alex stood in front of Reuben. They were almost nose-to-nose, and Alex looked tense, his fists clenched at his side. He looked over his shoulder, gesturing towards them. Reuben looked across to them and then turned and walked away, back into the sea.
“Come on,” Avery said. “Alex will catch up.” She turned away and led El up to the car.
8
They dropped El at home. Avery had suggested she came to her flat, but she refused.
“I wouldn’t be good company right now, and I’ve got jewellery to make and a grimoire to study.”
Avery looked at Alex after she’d left. “Did Reuben make that wave, knowing El was there?”
Alex still looked annoyed and had been quiet on their way back—all of them had. “I don’t know, though I don’t think so. But he sure didn’t look too worried when I pointed out he could have drowned her.”
“It must have been a mistake,” Avery said. “Reuben’s not like that.”
“No, of course not. But it doesn’t mean he can’t be a jerk occasionally.”
“Is he still going after Faversham?”
“No. Even he knows that’s dumb right now.” He sighed, looking out at the harbour next to El’s flat. “My mind really isn’t on work right now. If there’s enough staff to cover me, do you mind if I come back to yours?
Avery smiled. “Of course not, although I’m supposed to be working too. I’ll ask Sally if she can manage without me today; I really want to go through that stuff again. Do you need anything from your flat?”
“I want to check that it’s secure. Not quite sure how Reuben and El left it earlier.”
“Sure. I’ll let Briar know that Newton can stand down,” she said with a grin.
The summer storm showed no sign of stopping, and after picking up some food and a few beers, they parked behind Avery’s flat and raced through the rain and into her home.
The cats meowed loudly. “I better feed these guys,” Avery said as they snaked around her wet ankles, demanding attention. She bent over, patting their sleek heads.
“And then I think we need a shower,” Alex declared, puddles of water forming at his feet. “I might die from pneumonia.”
Avery looked him up and down and grinned. His clothes clung to him, revealing every well-placed muscle. “You look pretty good wet.”
“I look even better wet and naked. How big is your shower?”
“Not big enough for two,” she said, laughing.
“Damn it,” he moaned in mock frustration. “Shall I leave it running for you?”
“Yes, please.”
He headed up the stairs, and after Avery had fed the cats, she lit a few lamps, brightening the gloom. Her bright Persian rug and colourful cushions glowed in the warm light, and she opened the window an inch, enjoying the smell of the wet earth and the sound of the rain. Alex was singing in the shower. She smiled. She could get used to this.
She unpacked the bags of food, and then headed up to the shower, stripping off her soggy jeans and t-shirt, until she was only in her underwear. Alex was heading out of the bathroom as she went in. A towel was wrapped low on his hips, revealing his tanned, toned abs and arms, and he rubbed his hair dry with another towel. She couldn’t help but stare.
He lifted his head, catching her looking, and grinned as he took in her lack of clothes. “Now this is what I was thinking about when I woke up this morning,” he said, reaching for her with a wicked grin.
***
After one of Alex’s amazing breakfasts, they headed up to the attic, and surrounded themselves with Anne’s research and the map they had found at the museum.
The rain sounded even louder in the attic, thundering on the roof and against the windows. Avery put some music on in the background, and then lit a few candles and some incense to aid concentration.
Alex picked up Avery’s family tree. “It’s hard to believe that Anne spent years doing this research.”
“Do you think she knew it would turn out like this?” Avery sat cross-legged on the sofa, the hidden map on her lap.
“No idea. Did she know your grandmother?” Alex looked at her curiously. He was sitting on the rug, leaning against a large Moroccan leather pouffe.
“I’m not sure. I’m planning to see her this week—she lives in the nursing home in Mevagissey. I’ll ask her then.” Avery frowned. “I’m not sure it will be much good. Her memories have gone, she can’t even remember who I am half the time.”
“Alzheimer’s?” Alex asked, looking concerned.
“Unfortunately.”
“They say that the memories of their youth can stick around longer than those of the present. She may surprise you.”
“Maybe. She would have been a contemporary of Anne and Lottie. They must have known each other.”
“Did she tell you much when she was younger and well?”
Avery grimaced as she tried to remember. “I could kick myself. I never asked anything when I should have. Magic was our family secret, of course, and we knew about you and Gil, obviously. I was told we were special and that we mustn’t tell anyone, but as I grew old
er, I didn’t ask questions. It was what it was. My grandmother taught me the old ways—the herbs and their properties, the powers of stones, the tarot.”
“Not your mother or father?”
“My father left when I was young. There was my mother, my sister, and me. And my gran. So yes, my mom did teach me some stuff, but she was never comfortable with it. And my sister wasn’t interested at all.”
“Could she use magic, though? I mean, did they have the power, or was it dormant?” Magic could skip generations, or could be suppressed or not used. Like any skill, you could lose it over time.
“A bit of both, I think. They thought it unnatural.”
Alex nodded. It was a familiar story, as Gil’s cousin proved. Not everyone welcomed magic into their life. “Same for me. My father used it, occasionally. He was prone to strong psychic visions, and he hated them. It all freaked my brother out completely. My uncle pretended it didn’t exist, and ran the pub for normality.”
Avery leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, and her chin in her hand. “Where’s your dad now?”
“A long way from here. Scotland.”
“Why Scotland?”
“Because it’s a long way from here. He swears it dulls his visions.”
“What about your mother?”
Alex fell silent for a moment. “Magic didn’t run in her family. She found it fascinating, and then she got bored with the weirdness of it.”
“So, who taught you?”
“My dad, haphazardly. I didn’t respect it enough when I was younger. I took it for granted.”
“You were cocky.”
He smiled slowly, holding her gaze. “Yes, I was cocky. About lots of things.”
Avery was fascinated. “So, when did you start to respect it?”
“When I was about 18 and it finally sank in that no one could do what we could do. I wanted to learn more about it, about me, who I was, and I knew I couldn’t learn any more from my dad. I think his powers scared him.” He looked at her speculatively. “I couldn’t ask you. You kept me at arm’s length.”
“I did not!”
“Yes, you did. I was cocky. I get it. Your gran would offer me the occasional cup of tea. I should have taken her up on them more often.”
“I didn’t know that!” Avery felt a rush of guilt. If Alex was lonely and needed guidance, she never knew it. She probably needed some herself.
He carried on, undisturbed. “Gil was a bit older, more serious, and already involved in the family business. El had just arrived, Briar wasn’t here then. So I went travelling.”
“So I gathered. Where to?”
“India, of course, where everyone goes for spiritual guidance. And maybe weed.”
She laughed. “What did you learn about magic there?”
“Not magic so much, but just who I was. I needed to get out of our quaint English seaside town. I travelled around, lived a little, partied a lot, and got dysentery. Then I went to Ireland. I loved it there. I could feel magic in the soil. And then I met an old guy on the West Coast of Ireland. He knew when he looked at me.”
“Knew what?” Avery asked, confused.
“Knew that I knew magic.”
Now Avery was really curious. “Another witch?”
Alex’s eyes darkened with memory. “Yes. He must have sensed I was lost. He took me in and taught me how to use my powers, how to spirit walk, how not be scared of my visions, but to trust them.”
Avery slowly sat up, seeing Alex in a new light. She’d noticed how different he was over the last few weeks, but talking about this with him was like uncovering another layer.
“That’s amazing, Alex. How wonderful for you! Who was he?”
“His name was Johnny, and he lived in an old ramshackle cottage on the edge of the sea on the Ring of Kerry. He never told me his full name, but he knew magic, Avery, really knew it.”
“Did he have a family, children?”
“If he did, he never spoke of them. I had the feeling they had gone away a long time before.” Alex looked sad as he recalled his memories.
“How long did you stay there?”
“A couple of years, and then I knew it was time to come back. Part of me didn’t want to leave—he’s old, and I was worried about him. But he knew it was time, too. Said I had to leave, that something called from White Haven that could not be refused. And he was right, so I came.”
“So when you arrived here a few months ago, you’d come straight from him?”
Alex nodded.
“Do you hear from him?”
“Occasionally. He only has a land line, and half the time he won’t answer it, but I call him anyway.” He smiled. “So, that’s my story. I haven’t told anyone about Johnny before—I’d appreciate it if you keep it quiet.”
Avery felt a rush of pleasure that he’d told her such a secret. “Of course, scouts honour,” she said seriously. “Was he psychic? Did he know what we’d find?”
“Maybe. He never said what it was.” Alex paused for a moment. “What do you know of other witches, outside of White Haven?”
Avery considered his question for a second; she had never been asked that before. “I know nothing of other witches, although I accept the probability.”
“There are more of us out there than you realise, Avery. Johnny told me about others.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. But like us, they live together in small communities. That’s why I reconnected with you and the others when I returned. I wanted all of us to work together. And if there are other witches, I want to know them too.”
“But what if they’re like the Favershams?”
“What if they’re like us?” he challenged, watching her reaction. “If our problems with Faversham get really big, we may need help.”
9
Avery’s grandmother sat in an armchair in front of a big picture window looking out over the sea. She was petite, white-haired, with bright blue eyes that weren’t quite focussed on the view outside.
The residential home sat on a high cliff looking out over the bay beyond. The summer storm had gone, and the sun sparkled off the white-tipped waves. The garden below was filled with roses and summer flowers, and the occasional resident and visitor pottered along the paths.
Avery sat in the chair opposite her grandmother and placed two cups of tea between them.
“Hi Gran, it’s me, Avery. How are you?”
The old lady looked at her with flicker of recognition that was quickly gone. She smiled. “I’m all right, my dear. Do I know you?”
“I’m Avery,” she repeated, her heart sinking. “Your granddaughter. Diana’s child.”
Her gran nodded. “I had a daughter called Diana. She was headstrong, that one. Always getting into trouble.” She gazed out to sea again. “I miss her.”
Avery closed her eyes briefly. This was always so hard. She chatted for a while about what she’d been doing, and asked her gran if she’d been out. Her gran responded, chattering for a while aimlessly, and seemed happy enough.
Avery decided now was a good time to broach what she’d really come to ask. Sometimes calling her by her name worked. “Clea. Do you remember Lottie Jackson?”
She turned to Avery, frowning. “Lottie was a nice girl. We used to meet for tea and talk about magic sometimes.”
Avery looked around in alarm, hoping no one was close enough to hear. Fortunately, they were the only ones in the sunroom.
“And what about her uncle, Addison? Do you remember him?”
Her eyes clouded over for a second. “He was always a strange one. We were told to keep away from him.”
Avery sat forward. “Why was that, Clea? Can you remember?”
She shuddered and once again turned her gaze to sea. “He disappeared young. Those Faversham boys, causing trouble again.”
Avery nearly fell off her seat in shock. “Did you say Faversham?”
Her gran turned in alarm. “Shush! We never say their name. It�
��s bad luck. Almost brought down the whole Council on us once.”
Avery’s head was whirling. “What Council?”
Her gran frowned. “Do I know you?”
Avery bit back her impatience, and patted her gran’s hand. “I’m Avery, your granddaughter.”
She smiled. “Of course you are. You look so pretty. Just like Diana.”
“You mentioned the Council?”
She looked impatient. “Their water rates are so high! It’s scandalous.”
Avery blinked. This was useless. What was she thinking? She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She was so tired. After talking to Alex the other afternoon, and reading Anne’s papers, she felt she was on the cusp of knowing something, but it was fragile, just beyond her grasp.
She opened her eyes and watched her gran stir sugar into her tea, her hands shaking lightly. She was so old now, so infirm. She wondered if she retained any magic, or if the Alzheimer’s had suppressed it. And then she realised her gran’s spoon was stirring all on its own. She gasped and pulled it out of the cup. She hoped this didn’t happen often.
Some core part of her was still there, buried deep. Avery had to try again.
“Why was the Council upset about the Favershams?”
“Oh, they weren’t upset with them, they were upset with us.”
“With us? Why?”
“Those hidden books caused a lot of trouble. Everybody wanted them.” Her gran looked at her earnestly. “We promised not to look for them, and were forbidden to mention them again.” She put her finger in front of her lips, her eyes wide. “Silly people. You can’t hide magic.”
Avery felt a shock run through her. What the hell was going on? “Clea. It’s very important. Who are the Council?”
“They’re not really a Council,” Gran said crossly. “It’s all pretend. Some people just like to give themselves airs. We pretended to listen for a while, and then Lottie had a plan. They didn’t know that.” She broke off, looking perplexed. “I wonder what Anne did with it all? Is there any cake, dear?”
“I’ll get you cake in a minute. Who are they, Gran?”
“Nasty people,” she said. “There’s a reason witches left White Haven.”
