by TJ Green
“They might have,” he admitted. “I’ve had my phone on silent.”
“Slow down,” Zee said, watching them both. “Why is Kit’s grave disturbed?”
Alex sighed. “His spirit is very strong right now. As the play progresses, the spell on it magnifies, the cast is more affected, the audience is bewitched, and that in turn has strengthened Kit’s ghost. He manifested last night in the cemetery, and I had to send him back to his body—a temporary binding. It seemed that when he broke free it had a physical affect on his grave.”
Zee nodded. “You’re going to banish him, then?”
“When the time is right. I need to get all my ducks in a row—if you know what I mean.” Alex glanced nervously at Avery. “If I can banish him. I’m beginning to think this is going to be way more complicated than I thought.”
23
It was just after lunch on Thursday when the door chimes rang in Happenstance Books. Avery looked up from where she was restocking the occult section with the new books they had been selling to see Caspian striding inside, looking purposefully around the shop. She called out, “Caspian, I’m here.”
He headed to her side, taking one of the books from her hands. “What are you selling?”
“Books on cunning folk, the history of witchcraft, and the witch trials. It’s an effort to deflect Rupert’s sensationalism. Why?”
He smiled. “Just curious. I didn’t know Rupert had started his tours.”
“He started this week, unfortunately. But I’m sure you didn’t come to chat about books.”
His smile disappeared. “No, I saw the news. What happened last night?”
She sighed. “Follow me.”
Avery led him to the back room and put the kettle on before explaining their evening, and Caspian listened silently.
“So you identified the ghost as Kit Bonneville?” He laughed. “Nice to know my family aren’t the bad guys after all.”
Avery felt a rush of guilt. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have leapt to conclusions.”
Caspian perched on the edge of the table. “That’s okay. The circumstances were suspicious. So, what now?”
“Well, that’s the million dollar question,” Avery said as she gave him a cup of tea. “We need to break the spell on the cast, but we’re not entirely sure that burning the scripts will do it.”
“I take it you’re unwilling to wait and let it run its course?”
“Well, seeing as Josh and Emma, the two leads, might end up killing themselves, and the rest of the cast are at each other’s throats, not really!” she said sarcastically.
“Fair point. You should burn the scripts anyway. What would you lose?”
“We’re worried that it might make it worse.” She held her hand up in a stop sign. “I know! That’s probably ridiculous, but we don’t want to do anything that might be irreversible.”
Caspian nodded. “Tricky, I agree.” He sipped his tea. “I must admit that I’m impressed. It’s a devious, clever spell.”
Avery was sick of worrying about it, and she said, “How are things in Harecombe? Have Beltane passions taken hold there?”
“They’re the same as they were last week. Everyone’s a little giggly, a little suggestive, and there have been a few jealous spats, but nothing too bad. Nowhere near as bad as Mevagissey,” he added with a grin, and Avery laughed, having almost forgotten about Oswald’s worries about Ulysses. Caspian continued. “You’re sure you won’t be coming to the Beltane celebrations tonight at Rasmus’s?”
“No. Although with everything happening here, we haven’t really planned anything too amazing.” Beltane fell on Friday, the day before the official town celebrations, but it was traditional to celebrate on the eve. “We’re going to Ravens’ Wood, though.”
“Be careful. That place is wilder than most, and that will especially be the case at the moment.” He finished his tea and placed his mug on the table. “If you need my help breaking the spell, just ask. I’m afraid I haven’t been able to find much of use so far, though.”
“Thanks Caspian, but I’m sure we’ll find a way.”
“You’d rather not ask for my help anyway, I assume?” Caspian’s gaze was direct, and it made Avery uncomfortable.
“We will if we need to,” she assured him. “You’ve helped us a lot in the past, but I think this is something we can and should do alone.”
“Okay,” he said finally, although it looked as if he was debating saying more. “I should go; I need to see Gabe.”
Avery watched him walk to the door, but before he left, she said, “By the way, I told Alex. We have no secrets.”
Caspian paused and flashed her a smile of resignation. “Stay safe, Avery.” And without saying another word, he left.
Avery returned to the shop, brooding on their conversation. She hadn’t lied to Caspian. The events of the week had completely distracted them from their Beltane plans, and despite their worries about the play, they were meeting on the edge of Ravens’ Wood at ten that night. If she was to enjoy it properly, she needed to prepare. After making sure they weren’t too busy in the shop, she headed to her garden to pick fresh boughs for their celebrations. Their altar would be decorated with greenery, and she knew Reuben and Briar would bring some, too.
With that done, she headed to her attic, collecting candles and other objects she’d need for the celebrations that night, and then satisfied she was partly prepared, sat at the table and pulled the grimoires to her. She was determined to find something of use, and she needed to be methodical in her search.
Avery referred to the list of spells she had made only the day before, although it felt like a lifetime ago after so much had happened between then and now. She had found spells for bewitching the senses and ensnaring the mind, love spells that promised undying adoration (but more likely meant scary obsession), and spells that caused love to wither and die. She shuddered with revulsion. Most involved spelling food or drink, which should be slipped to the intended victim discretely. She had also found a way of bewitching small objects that would also cause love and obsession, but nothing on such a large scale as a script that could affect so many people.
Frowning, she turned away and looked at Alex’s grimoires, noting where he had identified spells that had similar affects. Love spells were one of the most common spells and there were many varied ways to use them. They had talked about anchoring the spell, and it struck Avery that Kit would want to anchor himself to the play and a place. Maybe the theatre was also connected to the spell in a far more concrete way than they’d realised. White Haven Little Theatre was where the play had been performed before. Had Kit tied the play to it, as well as his own spirit? And if he had, how did they find out how he’d done it? Would they need to exorcise the whole building? Was even exorcise the right word? Cleanse it, maybe?
After last night’s performance, it was likely that Kit’s spirit would be even stronger. He was certainly strong in the cemetery. Would he harm the audience? Perhaps, she mused. Kit would have been unpopular in the town if he really were such a miserable, bitter man. It could be that bewitching the audience was part of the spell after all, rather than an unintended side effect. Perhaps he wanted to punish them, and the play was also feeding the town’s behaviour throughout Beltane.
Bollocks!
Avery ran her hands through her hair. She was going around in circles.
Of course!
Circle was surely the right word. The whole spell was circular. Every piece of it fed into the other. The more the play was performed, the stronger the enchantment became; the more obsessive the cast became, the more enraptured the audience was; the odder the town behaved, the stronger Kit became. It was just as Alex had said. It was one big, linked spell. The ring and the potion fed into it.
They needed to break the circle, and the trick was to find the weakest part. And they absolutely needed to get rid of Kit.
It was likely that Kit couldn’t manifest in The Wayward Son because of Alex’s prote
ction spells, but it was unlikely they could protect the theatre now that Kit was so strong—unless they banished him first, and then they could cleanse it of all the negative energy that was accumulating. It was toxic in there. In fact, White Haven now had an undercurrent of pervasive arguments that were undermining the whole Beltane festival.
She leaned back in her chair, focussing on the candle that burned on the table in front of her. The flame danced in the breeze coming from the open window, and it suddenly struck her. The best way to cleanse was with light or fire. A Beltane fire.
***
On the eve of Beltane, Ravens’ Wood rustled with life. The branches creaked overhead, and the whispering leaves allowed dappled moonlight to shine through to the forest floor.
Avery and the witches met on the outskirts of the wood, and then wandered along small winding paths, letting their instinct guide them, until eventually they came to a secluded grove.
They had heard giggles and murmured conversations as they walked, but they were muffled, as if from some distance away, and Avery couldn’t be sure if they were human or something else. The wood felt alive, much as it had when it forced its way through the earth: ancient, wild, and terrifying, and unmistakeably Otherworldly.
Briar had packed a picnic basket, and Hunter placed it at the edge of the clearing, ready for when they’d finished their celebration. He watched them as they started to prepare their circle. “I’ll leave you to it for an hour or so.”
He was already stripping his clothes off, the moonlight playing across his body, and an unbidden heat rose within Avery. Beltane was quickening her blood.
“Where will you go?” Briar asked him. Her eyes glimmered with an unearthly green fire as her gaze travelled over his naked body.
He met her eyes with his golden ones. “Everywhere. And then I’m coming back for you.” He didn’t so much speak as growl his words, and then he turned into his wolf and bounded away through the undergrowth.
His words left no room for doubt, and they all knew what Beltane celebrations sometimes entailed. The Great Rite. It was more of a Wiccan concept, but it was essentially a ritual of sexual magic in which the High Priestess embodied the Goddess and the Priest embodied her consort, and their coupling brought about great power. However, it didn’t need to be the High Priestess of a coven. Any witch could choose to enact the rite.
Reuben turned to Briar, a smirk spreading across his face. “It’s going to be that kind of night, is it?”
Briar shot him a warning look. “Not necessarily, thank you, Reuben!”
“Oh, I think it is!”
El nudged him. “I think we should set up our circle.”
While the others prepared their decorations for the altar, El took her sword from her backpack and started to pace out a large circle on the mossy floor of the glade, and their excited chatter from earlier disappeared.
Hunter’s promise and Reuben’s comment had changed the atmosphere, and the air had thickened with promise and desire. Avery tried to push it away, but Alex caught her eye, and she knew he felt the change within them all, too.
When their preparations were complete, El asked, “Who’s going to lead us tonight?”
“I think Briar should,” Avery answered straight away. “We’re in Ravens’ Wood, and it’s a part of you, Briar, more than anyone else, and so is the Green Man.”
Briar looked surprised. “I think it should be you.”
Reuben looked between them both. “No, Avery’s right. It should be you.”
“Agreed,” El and Alex said together.
“All right,” she said, and in the candlelight, Avery saw her flush with pleasure.
As soon as their circle was complete they stepped inside, and El sealed it behind them. As usual they had placed candles around and within the circle, but this time they had also built a small fire to one side, and a maypole was inserted in the centre. Briar sank it deep within the earth, and with another few words of command it sprang into life, small shoots and leaves appearing along its length. The ribbons attached to the top swirled in the breeze that Avery created, and she noticed the smell of blossoms fill the space.
Briar lit the fire with a word, and as it blazed, the surrounding wood disappeared into blackness. But it was as if the moonlight was magnified, because as Avery looked up the moon seemed to grow in size, so that it felt very close above them. El placed a crown of flowers on Briar’s head, and Reuben picked up the small skin drum, his fingers tapping the beat, and then time seemed to change as Briar led their celebrations, starting with calling upon the elements.
By the time they finished, Avery’s blood was singing, and she felt flushed with excitement. They had chanted and danced around the maypole, and any chill from the night air had gone. The fire had burned low, but Alex set it blazing again as El opened the circle once more.
Night sounds returned around them. An owl hooted, and the rush of a stream sounded close by. An excited chatter seemed to whip through the trees as Hunter bounded back into the clearing. Avery wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but he seemed bigger than he had before, at least as high as her waist, his paws huge but silent on the forest floor. As soon as he arrived Briar sat on his back, and he loped off thorough the trees.
Avery’s blood quickened as she looked at Alex, and he took her hand, a world of promise in his eyes. He pulled her out of the clearing and into the tangle of the wood.
And then all reason disappeared as the Goddess and her consort arrived.
***
When Avery came to her senses, she was naked on the grass. Alex was sprawled next to her, his limbs wrapped around her own.
For a second she lay there, confused and disorientated, and then her memories flooded back. They were in Ravens’ Wood and it was still utterly dark, other than the glint of moonlight slicing through the spring growth above them, illuminating the blossoms so they appeared as stars. There was no sign of the fire they had lit earlier, and Avery wondered how far they had strayed from the clearing.
Alex’s breathing was slow and heavy, and she watched his chest rise and fall, his tattoos seeming to writhe across his skin in the half-light. She eased herself out of his arms and sat up to look around, letting her eyes adjust to the dark. The air was cool on her skin, but pleasantly so, like a caress. A rustling sound startled her and she saw a small animal scurry out of sight, but beyond that was something else, and she squinted, trying to work out what she could see. When she did, she shivered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. She saw the unmistakable shape of a dryad slip by, quickly swallowed by the darkness, and then she heard a throaty laugh from behind her. She twisted around and saw something with hairy legs and cloven feet pass through the undergrowth, just as something else passed out of sight.
What the hell was going on? Had she slipped out of one world and into another?
Avery shook Alex to try to wake him, but other than a grumble and mutter, he didn’t stir. But his eyes moved rapidly beneath his flickering eyelids. He was dreaming again. Sweat beaded his brow, and a slick of moisture lay across his arms and chest.
She sat for a moment, undecided as to what to do, but she was alert now with no chance of going back to sleep, so she stood up, feeling strangely comfortable in her nakedness. And that was fortunate, because she couldn’t see their clothes at all. If this is Reuben’s idea of a joke, I’m going to kill him, she swore to herself.
If she went in search of their clothes, she was scared she might lose Alex. She had no idea where she was, and although her sighting of the Otherworldly creatures was unnerving, she was sure they were still in her world. The Raven King wouldn’t be so kind as to give Shadow a way back home.
She heard the murmur of voices, and she made her way towards them, wondering if it was Reuben and El or Briar and Hunter. She had to walk further than she thought, the night and trees distorting sound and distance, but eventually she saw a flame in the darkness. As she drew closer, she became aware that she wasn’t alone
. Other things seemed to crowd around her, invisible things, but she felt their presence as they progressed together. She now felt that the rustle of the wind through the leaves was actually voices, and the brush of soft vegetation against her skin was the feeling of their bodies.
Together they stumbled to another clearing, this one bigger than the one the witches had found, a circle of flaming torches around its edge. But Avery froze as she saw who was in front of her. It was the Goddess, draped in moonlight and blossoms, and at her feet was the Green Man.
Avery’s mouth fell open in shock, and as she stepped onto the edge of the clearing, all of the strange, unseen creatures became visible: the rustling of willowy dryads, the muscled hardness of yellow-eyed satyrs, naiads in diaphanous clothes that appeared like flowing water, and other creatures she didn’t recognise.
The Goddess turned to her, her gaze fierce, hard, and timeless. Avery knew instinctively that if she took one more step she would be consumed. Part of her wanted it, but most of her was terrified, and summoning an icy clarity she didn’t know she possessed, she stepped back and then turned and ran.
When she eventually stopped running, she was covered in scratches from the branches that whipped at her and the sharp stones beneath her feet. The forest seemed to have turned against her. Her heart was pounding and again she had no idea where she was, but she knew where she wanted to be, if he was still there. Taking a deep breath, she summoned air and flew to Alex’s side. With almost a whimper of relief, she saw him lying where she’d left him, and decided she didn’t care how deeply asleep he was, he needed to wake up—now.
24
It was well into the night by the time Avery and Alex found the clearing where they celebrated Beltane. They eventually found their clothes strewn atop bushes, and Avery had needed to guide Alex along because he was so disorientated.
It had taken so long that Avery was starting to panic, and when she spotted Reuben and El sitting on logs next to the fire, she almost wept with relief.
