Shiver Me Witches

by A. A. Albright

  ‘You remember that?’ I asked. ‘You remember when people stopped seeing you?’

  She was standing by the French doors, with the light spilling through and making her nearly invisible once more. Even so, I thought I saw her shrug her shoulders.

  ‘I remember it with vagueness,’ she said. ‘I remember that I was old when I went to sleep, and I was young once more when I woke. Young, but unseen. The pain had gone then. The aches of old age had passed. So I worked and worked, harder than before, keeping myself busy. And waiting. And it is autumn now, after all. I know it is, because I feel the ghosts stirring, and I am sure that they will soon walk the earth. It is almost time for the pirate ships to dock again. And this time, my Billy’s boat will finally dock with the others.’

  She sniffed a little, then moved back to the telescope. ‘I sense you are pitying me again, Miss Smith. But please be assured, I am quite happy in this life after death that I have chosen for myself. I have waited here ever long. And if I must, then I shall wait until the end of time.’

  4. Many Thick Skins

  A short while later, I made my way into the Daily Riddler’s office, only to find that Greg was just walking in behind me.

  ‘You were at Pirates’ Pier all this time?’ I asked. ‘Did anything else turn up after I left?’

  ‘Huh?’ He scratched his head. ‘Oh yeah. That whole thing with the murder. I don’t really know how that’s going. I just hung out for a while and had some breakfast sandwiches.’

  ‘Greg.’ I took hold of his arms. ‘Look at me, and listen to me, okay? You’re not yourself right now. Something’s going on, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it.’

  He stared at me like I was the one losing my mind and said, ‘Sure. Whatever. Listen, I’m gonna pop off to my office and play some games.’

  ‘Games? Greg, you can’t play games. I need you to go and check out what you picked up with your scanner and your camera. You might have picked up some unusual auras, magical signatures, that kind of thing.’

  ‘Jeez, Ash! What’s with you this morning? Dylan’s on top of this, okay. He’ll have it solved by lunchtime. There’s nothing for me or you to worry about. Probably her husband killed her. Or her lover or whatever.’

  Patience, Aisling, I told myself – whatever was going on, it wasn’t Greg’s fault. No matter how much I might have wanted to scream at him, it wasn’t going to get me very far. ‘It probably was,’ I said with a feigned calmness. ‘But why don’t you go and check out what your tech picked up anyway? I mean, you’re an amazing wizard and a total tech head, Greg. You love doing this sort of stuff, don’t you? It’s fun to you.’

  He pulled a lollipop out of his breast pocket and began to suck it, regarding me thoughtfully. ‘Sure it’s fun. It’s what I like to do. I guess I could take a quick look and see if I picked up any supernatural activity at the scene.’

  ‘Yes!’ I said, spinning him around and pointing him in the direction of his office. ‘You go off and have some nice, chilled-out fun doing that, and then we’ll have some even more chilled-out fun in a while, okay?’

  He ambled off into his office, and I stared after him, crossing my fingers. There was no one else in the place, so it was depressingly likely that the rest of the staff were being affected by … well, by whatever this was.

  Even Grace, the newspaper’s editor, was absent. I tried calling her to see if she was behaving like everyone else, but she didn’t pick up. After my third attempt at phoning her I glanced at my watch, growing worried. The meeting was at ten, which gave her forty-five minutes to get here. But would she even bother?

  After one more unanswered call to Grace, I called Gretel instead. She was acting as a liaison between the supernatural police force known as the Wayfarers, and the (mostly) human-run gardaí in Riddler’s Edge. I had no idea if Dylan had been in touch with the Wayfarers yet, but this seemed like something they ought to know about.

  Gretel answered on the second ring. ‘Hey, Ash. Long time no chat. How’s everything going with you?’

  ‘Not good, actually,’ I replied. ‘Gretel, there’s been a murder in Riddler’s Edge, and I think there might be a supernatural connection.’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, I know all about that. Dylan called me about five minutes before you. Now listen, I know you like to get involved in everything, and that’s great. You’re a doer. I like doers. The world needs more doers. But I just don’t think there’s anything for you to do here, Ash. Leave it to Dylan. He’ll sort it out by lunchtime, and then you can all get on with enjoying Halloween.’

  I took a deep breath and counted to ten before speaking again. ‘I’d like nothing more than to enjoy Halloween, Gretel. Really I would. But … don’t you guys want to check this out? No one is acting like themselves over here. Dylan had cream buns and doughnuts for his breakfast, for criminy’s sake. And there were people barbecuing rashers and sausages at the murder scene.’

  ‘Ooh,’ said Gretel. ‘Are they still there? Do you think they might throw a bit of black pudding on the grill if I asked nicely?’

  I took another deep breath, and this time I counted to twenty before answering. ‘You know what? They probably would. You should definitely get over here. But bring a lot of Wayfarers. And scanners. And bring your own healer to look at the body. You can all have some fun checking out the crime scene.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Gretel. ‘Maybe. We’ll see how we feel after we’ve eaten.’

  I stared at the phone for a good long minute, and then I said goodbye, because what the heck else could I do?

  After I hung up I busied myself typing up a short article about the murder, and once I was finished with that, I decided to look up what I could about similar murders to Evelyn’s.

  I couldn’t get the whole It’s happening all over again thing out of my mind. I needed to know if it really had happened before. Unfortunately, I drew a blank. The records only went back thirty years, though, so it was possible there could be something in the archives. The problem was, I had no idea where the paper’s archives were kept. So until I could ask Grace, I decided to look up the Lilting Lass.

  I expected to find maybe an obscure reference here or there, but there were dozens of articles. The most recent mention I found was from the year before, a story that had appeared in the evening edition of the paper, written by Grace:

  The Lilting Lass – Has She Lilted Right Over or Does She Still Sail Our Seas?

  As Halloween approaches, thoughts in Riddler’s Edge turn to Pirates’ Pier. We all love to gather there, each and every year, enjoying the raucous fun as the pirates dock their ghost ships once more. There is one ship, however, that this reporter will be keeping a special eye out for.

  Every year, people wonder if the Lilting Lass will return. After all, before the crew of that infamous ship were killed in a battle with the crew of the Bonny Babs, they had made quite the name for themselves.

  For years, Captain Billy O’Dwyer was the most revered pirate in the Atlantic, and was often referred to as the Robin Hood of the Seas. He only stole from those notorious ships whose captains traded in people. He killed no one, and the only captives he ever took were slavers, murderers and other such heinous folk.

  But some time after the Year of the Magpie, tales of Captain O’Dwyer were replaced with tales of a new captain – Billy O’Dwyer’s former right-hand man and quartermaster, Feckless Finnegan. And it was Feckless Finnegan’s reign over the Lilting Lass that gave that ship its infamous place in history. For under Feckless Finnegan, the Lilting Lass’s crew became known for their rough, cruel ways. They became the most feared pirates of all, right up until their final battle with the Bonny Babs.

  But what of Billy O’Dwyer? Did his crew mutiny against his Robin Hood ways? Or did his quartermaster, Feckless Finnegan, put an end to him for good?

  No one knows the truth of Billy O’Dwyer’s fate. But what they do know, is that unlike other such infamous ghostly pirate ships, the Lilting Lass has not docked at Pirates’ Pie
r for centuries. Some say they have seen it, further out at sea, never coming into the harbour, but there’s no evidence to support those claims.

  Nevertheless, this reporter will be spending her Halloween at Pirates’ Pier, keeping an eye out for the Lilting Lass and its true captain – Billy O’Dwyer, the Robin Hood of the Seas.

  I was just finished when Grace appeared beside me.

  ‘Grace!’ I said with relief. ‘I was reading an old article of yours. I’m so glad you turned up. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it to the meeting.’

  She sat on the edge of my desk, wrinkling her nose. ‘Meeting?’

  ‘With Arthur and Adeline Albright? To see where we’re all at on finding out what happened to my mother and father?’

  ‘Ah.’ She pulled out a tube of red lipstick and a compact, fixing her make-up and swinging her feet. ‘Y’know, I’ve been wearing red lipstick for years now. I think I might try something new. Would hot pink suit me? Maybe I could team it with a biker jacket and some skin-tight jeans.’

  I stared at my boss. Grace wore fifties glamour, each and every day, and it suited her. She appeared to be in her forties, but I knew she was a much, much older witch than that. Witches weren’t like vampires. They lived a normal lifespan, and it took incredibly strong magic to extend that. Grace didn’t seem desperate to stay young forever, though. I got the feeling she was stuck as she was, and that it was out of her control. But whatever the reason, she kept a cool head about it. She kept a cool and graceful head about everything. And despite having a stunning figure, she never wore skin-tight jeans.

  ‘I think you look amazing as you are,’ I said. ‘Don’t change a thing.’

  ‘Hmm.’ She snapped her compact shut. ‘So I heard there was a murder on Pirates’ Pier. Some woman found tied up and strangled. Wow. I can’t believe this. I really can’t believe it. It’s happening all over again.’

  I grabbed Grace and spun her to face me. ‘What did you just say?’

  ‘Huh?’ She looked a little drowsy. ‘I … I was just saying how awful it is. A bit of a bummer, you know, what with it being so close to Halloween.’

  The drowsy expression cleared, and she began to look her usual self. She definitely wasn’t sounding like her usual self, though. Since when did Grace say bummer?

  ‘Anyway,’ she went on. ‘Let’s just grab Greg and get going to this meeting, shall we? I mean, there’s a million other places I’d rather be, so I just want to get the boring bits of the day over and done with.’

  I felt myself blinking, but I stood up and said, ‘Sure. I’ll go get Greg.’

  ≈

  I’m not the kind to get upset about any old thing. When you’ve grown up in the care system and been shunted from family to family, you tend to develop many thick skins. But ever since I’d moved to Riddler’s Edge, my thick skins had been sloughing off, one by one. It was itchy and uncomfortable at times, but because of the friends I’d made in this town, it had been bearable.

  Grace might be my boss – and she could definitely be bossy when she wanted to be – but overall, she’d become a really good friend. Sometimes I felt like she and the other friends I’d made in Riddler’s Edge were more of a family than I’d ever known. So when she dismissed our weekly meeting about my mother and father as ‘boring’ I have to admit that it stung. And those thick skins of mine? One or two of them might soon be slinking back on.

  I knew this wasn’t Grace. Not really. No one was behaving like themselves. What I saw in the air – that glittering orange magic – it must be what was causing them all to change. But if the magic was behind these personality changes … then who was behind the magic?

  5. A Box Full of Buzzkills

  With Halloween preparations heating up, Arthur Albright was a man in demand. He was in charge of two of the major events in the neighbouring town of Riddler’s Cove – A Trick for a Treat, and the Halloween Ball.

  A Trick for a Treat was something I hoped I’d get a chance to see. Each year, supernatural kids from all over Ireland performed their party pieces in the Riddler’s Cove community hall, and received treats in return. Greg told me that last year’s event had included a weredog kid who used her nose to sniff out the postman in a line-up, and a vampire child who gave a chilling rendition of the screams of terror in Transylvania.

  My grandfather – the man I did not want to know about these meetings – had a well-known hatred for A Trick for a Treat. All of the different supernaturals coming together as one was pleasant and heart-warming to most. To Arnold, it was the sort of event that made him break out in angry hives. But we were using his mean streak to our advantage. The leader of the Albright coven would never darken the doors of the Riddler’s Cove community hall at this time of year, so it was the perfect place for us to meet without his knowledge.

  As Greg, Grace and I entered the community hall, Pru and Jared skidded in behind us.

  ‘You came!’ I rushed towards them, pulling them both into a hug.

  ‘Of course we did, you numpty,’ said Jared, stroking my hair and chuckling. ‘I mean, it was hit or miss, seeing as this one wanted to watch the Vamp Factor all day long.’

  Pru gave me a guilty shrug. ‘I dunno what’s wrong with me. I just feel so lazy today. But we came in the end.’

  ‘Oh.’ I pulled away. For one brief, happy moment I’d believed they were immune to whatever was affecting the others. No such luck. ‘Well, thanks. Em … so you guys were in bed when I got back from my run. Did you happen to hear about the murder at Pirates’ Pier?’

  ‘It’s terrible, isn’t it?’ said Pru. ‘It’s happening all over again.’

  ‘So everyone keeps saying,’ I replied. ‘I don’t suppose you’re about to tell me what is happening all over again, are you?’

  Pru shook herself, like she was trying to stay awake. Jared, I noticed, looked like he was just waking up too.

  ‘Sorry, what were we talking about?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, who knows?’ Pru linked her arm in mine. ‘But I know what I do want to talk about. You and me taking some time off for Halloween. Relaxing and having fun.’

  And paying no attention to the big bad murderer on the loose, no doubt. By now it was depressingly clear that every single person I could usually count on, I would now have to count out. There was no point in pressing the issue of the murder and the strange magic in the air. But maybe there was something they could help me with. ‘Hey, seeing as you guys are ancient and powerful vampires, I don’t suppose you happen to remember when the Fisherman’s Friend was called the Pirate’s Head.’

  ‘Oh sure,’ said Jared. ‘I think it was a good few years before Mam bought the Vander Inn wasn’t it, Pru?’

  Pru nodded. ‘Yeah, it was about … well, some time in the early eighteen hundreds, I think. No, the late seventeen hundreds, actually. Riddler’s Edge had a bit of a pirate problem back then. Nowadays when the ghost pirates dock, they’re fairly sedate, but back then it was crazy. The new owners of the Pirate’s Head changed the name straight away, and closed their doors to pirates.’

  ‘And the Vander Inn? Did a woman called Gwennie used to run it?’

  ‘Oh yeah, I remember her,’ said Jared. ‘She’d inherited it from her mam – also called Gwennie. But when the Pirate’s Head became the Fisherman’s Friend and kicked all the pirates out, they all started staying at Gwennie’s place instead. It all got a bit much for her, and she sold up to Mam. Mam totally redid the place when she moved in. Got it looking nice and modern. Well, at least it was modern back then. Hey, how did you know about Gwennie?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Hey, so did either of you guys ever hear of a pirate called Billy O’Dwyer?’

  ‘I heard of him, but I never met him,’ said Pru. ‘I think he disappeared or something. We didn’t actually mix with the pirates though, so someone else might know more. We were always back and forth from London back then. Even when me and Mam moved here full time, she didn’t deal with pirates. They might have been able to bully Gwennie j
unior into letting them stay, but they couldn’t bully a vampire. There were a few more places that put them up, but they’ve all closed down now. Other than when the ghost ships come in at Halloween, there hasn’t been a pirate in Riddler’s Edge for, oh … nearly two hundred years.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jared. ‘It’s all in the past. Nothing to worry about these days. Oh, hey – what do you say we go home for a nice long snooze after this meeting, Pru?’

  ‘Definitely,’ she agreed. ‘But only if we can watch another couple of episode of the Vamp Factor first.’

  I left them to plan their lazy day and checked my watch. We were a few minutes early, but even if we’d been late I doubted Greg and Grace would have noticed. They were both far too busy feeding fireballs to hungry dragons on their phones. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Grace play games on her phone before.

  On the stage I could see this year’s performers, practising hard. And just like last year’s event, it seemed like there would be very few songs and dances.

  Arthur had been directing things when we came in, but now he told the kids to finish up and walked towards us. ‘Adeline’s running late,’ he said. ‘She just felt like an extra-long lie in this morning, and I can’t say I blame her. I’m nearly finished up, though.’

  He nodded towards a gorgeous little blonde kid on the stage. ‘Sadie is a vampire. She’s practising her compelling skills. She’ll be asking members of the audience to volunteer on the night, and I’m a little bit worried about what she’s going to make them do.’ He moved back towards the stage. ‘Sadie, could you give our guests a little run through of Halloween’s performance?’