by TJ Green
Avery felt Helena ease into her, turning and twisting her way into her body. It was like a cool breeze was running through her veins and tickling her skin. For a few seconds it was pleasant, and then her mind was filled with hundreds of images, some too swift to focus on, others searing in their intensity—particularly one.
The sharp, bitter fear of being dragged to the stake, stumbling on unwilling legs. Anger and the desire for vengeance was so strong that she felt she could almost break free. But the men holding her were too big, their grip like iron around her arms. In a second she was tied to the stake, a huge pyre prepared below her. The firebrands touched the wood and flared beneath her.
Avery tried to scream, but couldn’t, her mouth clamped shut by Helena. And then the image was gone, replaced by the memories of her nights with Alex. She could feel Helena examining them minutely, and if Avery could have blushed, she would, but then that disappeared, too.
Avery now started to panic. She felt suffocated; crushed beneath Helena’s mind and her considerable will.
If Helena was aware of Avery’s panic, she didn’t show it, instead focussing on the room and the need to perform the spell.
Avery saw the room through her eyes, the other witches standing ready, looking nervous but determined. She felt Helena’s excitement, but also her annoyance and disappointment. She looked down on them and their lack of knowledge, she could feel it simmering in her. Except for Alex. She wanted him.
As if Helena suddenly became aware of Avery’s presence, she mentally shoved her, and it took all of Avery’s concentration to hold on. It was as if she was trying to displace her from her own body.
Alex spoke. Avery could see his lips move, but she couldn’t hear him. It seemed as if she was under water.
“I am ready. Are you?” Helena asked. Her words came out of Avery’s mouth, making Avery’s skin crawl. And it seemed to repel the others, too. They all took one long look at her, glanced at each other, and then nodded.
Helena began.
She spoke the words of the spell cleanly and with authority, her voice growing stronger as she progressed. She never faltered once, and she nodded at each of the others in turn when it was their time to join in.
Power was building in the room, and as the spell was uttered and repeated, each part layered on top of each other, line by line, full of intention and conviction, the devil’s trap began to glow with a strange, blue light.
The shape of a demon rose up from the floor, streaming like smoke through a vent, and at the same time, an awful, gut-wrenching growl rumbled around the room.
Helena’s excitement began to rise and she pointed her finger—Avery’s finger—at the glass jar, which sat a short distance from the devil’s trap, and uttered a final command.
The swirling liquid became agitated, speeding up like a whirlpool, until the jar rocked violently and fell over, smashing instantly, the liquid spreading over the stone. A shriek pierced the room, bloodcurdling in its intensity.
And then it seemed as if all hell broke loose.
A wave of sheer power exploded from the centre of the room, throwing all of them off their feet and out of the pentagram.
Avery sailed through the air, and then felt the bone-shaking smack of cold stone at her back, and also Helena’s shock. She struggled to breath, wincing at the ache through her entire body, but Helena bounced back to her feet, threw back her head, and called the power to her.
Avery sensed rather than saw it, feeling a rush of power flood through her with such force that her spirit left her body with a jolt, thrown up to the roof above them.
She had a moment of shock as she saw her body below her, now possessed by Helena. The silver cord attaching her to her body curled below her, swaying in the power that had rocketed around the room.
Avery realised she had a birds-eye view of the action below. She could see the aura of magical energy spiralling around the room like a tornado, all different shades of reds, blues, purples, oranges and greens. The different colours were honing in on the different witches, flowing into them. All five witches now stood tall, with their heads thrown back and mouths wide open as the magic poured into them.
In the centre of the pentagram, the demon and Octavia continued to form into their full shapes, as the powerful bonds that had contained them disappeared.
But there was too much energy to be contained in the small room. Avery saw it flood out the door and up through the ceiling, and she followed it, passing through the church and out into the night air.
In the skies above White Haven, a dark purple mass rippled out across the town like a tidal wave, and the giant pentagram that connected the town to this point sparked like fuse wire.
For a few moments, Avery watched, mesmerised, as the magical energy poured into the night, hanging on the air and casting a veil over the town.
Below, people on the street looked around in shock, as if they had heard or seen something, but then with a shrug, they carried on, and Avery realised they subconsciously may have registered something happening, but they had no idea what.
Avery hovered above the church, her cord streaming below her. They had released something fundamental tonight, she could feel it in her spirit body, and with a sense of excitement, but no little worry, she wondered what the consequences would be.
And then Avery experienced a short, sharp tug on her cord and with a feeling of dislocation, she instantly knew Helena was trying to sever her cord.
21
Avery focussed on her physical body and rushed back to the crypt below.
She found a scene of chaos.
The demon had now broken free of the devil’s trap and was lashing the room with whips of flame. It was huge, bigger than any they had seen before. Its form was rippling and changing, and it was impossible to predict what it would do next. Alex was desperately trying to subdue it, his lips moving furiously in a chant, his arms outstretched, the other three witches supporting him.
Helena was fully occupied with fighting Octavia, who now appeared unnervingly fully formed. Avery presumed that like Helena, her spirit form had manifested very strongly. Octavia was an imposing woman, with long, white hair streaming over her shoulders and a face full of fury. They were attacking each other with every elemental force they could summon, which was fortunate for Avery because while Helena was engaged with Octavia, she couldn’t try to kill her. Because as much as she hated to admit it, that was exactly what Helena was trying to do.
Avery tried not to panic. She focused on being back in her body, but Helena had blocked her in some way; she could see a shield all around her body. How had she done that? Avery could also see a black mark on her life cord. If that severed, she was dead. As the two ancient witches fought, Avery noticed that with every hit Helena took, the shield wavered. That was her chance.
She watched her friends, who were finally getting the demon under control. While Briar and Reuben contained the demon within a magical force field, a doorway started to whirl open in the air behind it, and through it Avery could see the world beyond. Her spirit body could see more than her physical one, and she reeled back in shock. Thousands of tormented and vengeful spirits were pushing at the doorway and some even sneaked out, fleeing the room. They had to close the doorway before more escaped. But before she could think of how to warn them, Octavia blasted Helena with a tornado of air and she flew across the room, collapsing against the wall. The shield wavered and vanished, and Avery streamed back into her body.
Avery could feel Helena’s shock and rage—now directed at her and Octavia, but as Octavia was still attacking her, Helena could not attack Avery. Avery could also feel the potency of her newfound magic. For a second she found it overwhelming, and then she took advantage and attacked Helena, too, trying to force her out of her body.
For what seemed like minutes, but was probably only seconds, their spirits wrestled as Octavia advanced on them.
Avery was vaguely aware of movement in her peripheral vision, and then N
ewton appeared, his shotgun raised. He aimed at Octavia and blasted her, sending her flying backwards. He fired again, and then reloaded.
Avery now felt Helena’s panic and she yelled, “Get out of my body!” She had no idea if she really was shouting, or it was all in her head.
Helena seethed and shouted back, “No! I died before my time. I will have vengeance!”
“You have had your time, Helena. You made your sacrifice.” Avery was so incensed that Helena was trying to kill her that her anger made her stronger, and with one final, furious push, she ejected Helena.
Relief flooded though her. But Helena stood before her, her face twisted with anger, and she again tried to force her way in. And then a blast sounded to her left, and Helena’s spirit wavered and flickered. She turned to see Newton striding towards her, and once again he blasted Helena, shattering her this time into thousands of pieces.
“Get rid of Octavia!” he shouted. “I’ll keep Helena under control.”
Avery ran on shaky legs over to Octavia, who was now struggling to stand. With a well-timed blast of air, she sent her backwards again. But Octavia regained control quickly and flew at her, hundreds of years of anger fuelling her magic.
In a surprising show of physical force, Octavia dragged Avery to the floor and placed a hand on her chest. Avery felt an icy cold spread through her body. She couldn’t breathe, and the more she tried to inhale, the worse the pain got.
Then Avery caught a glimpse of the demon over Octavia’s shoulder.
It was being sucked back into the spirit world, the doorway swirling behind it. But it wasn’t going alone. With one final lash of his fiery whips, he caught Octavia and dragged her with him. Avery could breathe again.
With a word of command from Alex, the doorway collapsed and disappeared, and the demon and Octavia vanished, with only her echoing scream to remind them she had ever been there.
Newton shouted. “What do you want to do with this one?”
Still gasping for air, Avery rolled over and saw Newton standing over Helena’s writhing spirit form, gun pointing down at her.
Alex ran over. “Let me.” But before he could act, Helena vanished from sight.
“Where the hell has she gone?” Newton shouted, spinning around.
“No idea,” Alex said, “but she won’t come back for a while.”
“You might have to keep a loaded shotgun in your flat,” Newton said to Avery.
“We’ll find another way to deal with her,” Alex decided. He turned to Avery, his eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, now,” she said, sitting up. “Things were a bit scary for awhile there. What about you?”
“Feeling like I could do this all night,” Alex said. “That hit of magic was intense!”
Reuben, El, and Briar joined them. All of them looked slightly battered. Their hair was ruffled, dirt was streaked over Reuben where he’d fallen to the floor, and El was cradling her arm where Avery could see a burn.
El grinned, “Alex is right. The power that flooded into us was insane. It feels like it’s ebbing slightly, but wow, it was amazing.”
Briar agreed, “It’s like it’s woken up some magical knowledge. Some of the spells from the original grimoire actually make sense to me now.”
“It’s definitely woken up my magic,” Reuben said, rubbing his head. “And yours, Alex. Where the hell did you get the spell from?”
“The doorway spell?” Alex grinned. “Like you say, I was juiced up on magic, and the knowledge just flooded into me.”
Newton shook his head. “Well, I couldn’t see anything, but I sure could feel something. It was like a wave rippled through the town. If I hadn’t known what was going on here, I probably would have dismissed it—like I was imagining something. But clearly, I wasn’t.”
“Well, there’s plenty I can tell you about that,” Avery said, “but we have somewhere to be. Are you ready for round two?”
“There’s no way that going to Faversham Central can be as bad as this,” Reuben said, looking around the crypt.
“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Avery hedged. “Newton, you’d better come, too. You’re pretty handy with that shotgun.”
“It’s got salt in it, not real shotgun pellets.”
Reuben reached into his pocket and pulled out another box. “Proper ones. Just in case.”
Newton glared. “I’m a police officer—I’m not going to kill anyone. And neither are you.”
“We don’t know what we’re going to face. Take them.”
Newton reluctantly accepted the shells.
“And why are you shooting Helena?” El asked. “I thought she was your friend?”
“That was before she tried to steal my body, but I’ll catch you up later. Are we all ready?”
“Yep, let’s go.” Alex led the way out of the hidden crypt, and as Avery crossed the threshold, the chamber plunged into darkness and sealed itself shut.
22
The group arrived at Sebastian Faversham’s mansion, and parked up the lane, well out of view.
He lived in a large Tudor dwelling on the edge of Harecombe, very similar in style to Greenlane Manor, edged with a high brick wall.
They clambered over the wall and landed under the trees on the far side of the garden. The house was visible a short distance away, the windows mainly dark, other than a few on the ground and first floor, and a variety of cars were assembled on the drive in front of the house.
“So, what’s the plan?” Reuben asked, checking out the grounds nervously.
“Find Sally first and get her out of here, and then we get the grimoire,” Avery said.
“How do we find her?” Reuben asked. “That’s a big house.”
“I’ve come prepared. She has a hairbrush at work. I’ve taken her hair and made a locator spell. I’ll release it as soon as we’re in the house—we’ll just have to follow the light. And then one of us needs to whisk her to safety.”
“I can do that,” Newton volunteered. “I’ll bring her back to the van.”
“But how the hell do we find the grimoire?” Alex asked. “There’s no locator spell for that.”
“I’m sure we’ll think of something. The important thing is to get Sally out safely.”
As Briar finished speaking, a howl set up across the grounds.
“What’s that?” Newton said, raising his gun.
“Crap! Dogs,” Alex said, pointing to half a dozen animals racing across the grounds towards them.
The dogs spread out in a line, snarling and snapping. They had a feral green glow to them, were twice the size of normal dogs, and as they drew closer, their large canines glinted in the garden lights.
“Oh great, not just any dogs,” Avery said, getting ready to defend herself. “I think we’ve set off a magical alarm system.”
“So much for a stealthy approach,” Briar said. “Leave the dogs to me. You all head to the house, and I’ll catch you later.”
Briar was still barefoot, and she planted herself firmly, squaring her shoulders as she uttered a spell. With a juddering shake, the ground cracked open in front of the dogs, and they started to fall in, howling and yelping, but the others didn’t stop to watch.
They ran to a ground floor window at the back of the house, well away from the brightly-lit ones.
“There’s a spell on the entrances,” El said, touching the wood tentatively. “It looks complex.”
“Well, we’d better break it soon, because some of those dogs are still loose and they’re heading this way,” Reuben warned, turning to face them. He directed a blast of energy at the closest dog, and it collapsed on the ground.
“I’ll just fry the spell,” El said, now confident. She placed her hand on the necklace she had inherited with her grimoire. “This seems to store elemental fire, and it’s super juiced up at the moment.”
She slipped her necklace off and held the stone on the glass. For a brief second it illuminated the web of spells protecting the house, a
nd then flames raced across the window, breaking the spell and shattering the glass all at once.
They knocked the rest of the glass out, piled into the room, and then raced to the door.
Before they opened it, Avery brought Sally’s hair out of her pocket. It was stored in a small cotton bag and wrapped with twine. She whispered a spell over it, and it blossomed into a tiny blue light.
For a second the light just bobbed in the air, and then it passed through the door and they hurried to follow it.
Beyond was a passageway, and the light led them down to the main part of the house. They had only gone a few paces when a familiar, dark-haired woman appeared in a whirl of air and magic. It was Estelle, Caspian’s sister.
Estelle was statuesque, with long, dark hair and compelling eyes. She was dressed head to foot in black and her arms were outstretched, blocking the passage and ready to attack. Her face was triumphant. “So, you dared to come here with your pathetic powers? You’re more foolish than we thought. Did you think you could enter our house and we wouldn’t know?”
Avery stepped forward, eager to wipe the smile off her face. “Of course you would know, but we don’t scare that easily.”
Estelle narrowed her eyes. “Well, you’re even more stupid than I thought.” And without warning she sent a cloud of black smoke at them. It quickly billowed around them, blinding them all as it grew thicker and more impenetrable. Avery’s eyes burned, and for the second time that evening, she struggled to breathe.
But someone reacted equally quickly, and she heard Estelle shout out in pain. In seconds, the black smoke disappeared, and Avery saw El’s flaming sword skewered through Estelle’s side. Reuben didn’t hesitate; he sent a bolt of energy at the ceiling above Estelle, bringing plaster and a large beam of wood down on her head. She fell unconscious on the floor below.
“That was easier than I thought,” Reuben said, pulling El’s sword free and passing it back to her. “Good aim, El.”
“Lucky shot, really,” she grimaced.
