If I did have any suggestions, I wouldn’t be telling the guy with the dark magic books and creepy photos in his room. Even if I decided to take him at his word, I’d still think his suggestion was crazy. I mean, what did he want me and Dylan to do? Put the chain around both our necks and bumble around together trying not to trip each other up?
He walked towards me. ‘You still don’t trust me, do you? I probably wouldn’t trust me right now. But you and me are the only two people who haven’t gone nuts, so we need to work together. Look, you’re part sióga, right? Which means you can see magic. You can probably see the dark magic at the murder scenes. You’d see some of that on me, right, if I was the one who did it?’
I wished it were that simple, but it wasn’t like I had anyone to teach me how to interpret the magic I saw. I was just guessing. All I knew for sure was that green magic was bad, but that wasn’t what I was seeing at the murder scenes. I was seeing orange, and I was seeing it right now, in every nook and cranny of this room. But it was in my room, too. It was everywhere, all throughout the town. I really had no way to tell if Dave was a good guy or a bad guy.
‘Look, I’m going to phone Dylan first to see where he is, and then I’ll decide what to do about my locket. Okay?’ I dialled Dylan’s number, but it rang out. As did Grace’s and Greg’s phones.
‘I think I know where they might be,’ said Dave. ‘The same place everyone in town is – the Fisherman’s Friend. They’re holding an Eve of Halloween party. I um … I wasn’t invited though. Nollaig told me not to come. She said I’d only harsh everyone’s buzz.’
Oh my stars. He looked so genuinely downhearted as he spoke. ‘Well, we’re going anyway,’ I said. ‘So they’d better get ready to have their buzzes thoroughly harshed.’
17. Smashing Pumpkins and Saving Souls
Even though Dave was the owner of a room filled with creepy clues, I didn’t want to believe he was the killer. Sure, he’d been awfully keen for me to take off my Impervium locket, but his reasons had made sense. I wanted to know just as much as he did what was making me immune. And honestly? Much as I tried, I couldn’t come up with a better idea than his. No matter how awkward it might be to share the locket with Dylan, at least I’d have the real Dylan back.
I stayed wary nonetheless, walking behind Dave and keeping my eye out for anything unusual as we headed to the Fisherman’s Friend. As we drew closer, I could see the pier. It was completely empty, with all of the revellers sticking close to the bar. The orange magic was more concentrated than ever.
There were patio tables set up outside, with braziers burning to keep everyone warm in the autumn air. I could see a few locals there, but most of the drinkers were tourists. As the door swung open and someone walked out to have a smoke, I could see Nollaig inside, surrounded by her regular poker players as she dealt out the cards.
A pining expression fell over Dave’s face, and he hesitated. ‘I’m not sure I can go in if Nollaig is in there,’ he said. ‘It’s not exactly fun, having the woman you’re crazy about tell you you’re a total downer.’
I nudged him forward. ‘I’m not going in without you, Dave.’
He let out a miserable, heaving sigh, but walked ahead of me into the pub. The place was packed to the rafters. And I was being literal, because there actually were some patrons sitting up on the exposed beams – granted, they were mostly Norma’s cats, drinking milk from bowls and occasionally jumping down on top of a tourist just for fun.
Where the cats were, Norma was sure to be too. I looked around until I saw her sitting next to Margaret, holding court over a table filled with tourists, regaling them with tales of the witches of Riddler’s Edge.
‘We’re a gregarious bunch, we Riddler’s Edge witches,’ said Norma (following a long and delightful cackle). ‘There’s nothing we like more than to chat to tourists and let them in on some of our spells. Would you like to hear about the bond I have with my cats? They’re all my familiars, each and every one of them. You know a witch is a level one hundred when they have as many cats as me.’
‘That’s not actually a thing, is it?’ whispered Dave, looking confused. ‘I mean, there are no levels. And Norma’s not even a witch. Is she?’
I shook my head, smiling fondly. I loved that crazy cat lady. ‘No. But neither is Margaret, so they’ve got that in common.’
Norma was now telling the tourists about how she could freely communicate with her cats. I suppose anything is possible, but if Norma could hear what her cats were telling her, then she was actively ignoring them – because according to Fuzz, they really wanted her to stop dressing them up like Victorian ladies. Either way, the tourists were lapping up the story of how one of her cats had led her to her magical wand.
‘Here it is,’ said Norma, pulling a knitting needle from her bag and holding it up for all to see. ‘This is my witchy wand. It’s disguised as a knitting needle right now, but trust me – this thing works magic.’
‘Can you do a spell?’ asked one of the tourists.
Ooh, this should be good, I thought. If I didn’t have a murder spree to stop, I might just pull up a pew and watch.
‘Of course I can do a spell. Here’s one that’ll make you suddenly eager to buy me a glass of sherry,’ said Norma with yet another delightful cackle. She was just waving her knitting needle in the air. when the door opened and Hilda marched in.
The entire tavern descended into silence. It was as if Hilda had sucked all the energy from the room. She was holding a large, carved pumpkin, and she lifted it above her head and slammed it to the ground.
As bits of pumpkin flew everywhere – some of them right into my face – Hilda jumped up onto one of the tables. ‘Halloween must be banned!’ she screamed. ‘Here you are, heathens and harlots, sinners and scum. I might not be able to stop you from sinning, but I promise you, I will smash every single pumpkin in town!’ A crazed smile formed on her face. ‘Unless, of course, you all repent before this night is out. I’m going to hand out some flyers now. I suggest you all take one and read it carefully. If you turn up at the Save Our Souls meeting, I’ll know that you can be saved!’
She jumped down and pulled a pile of flyers from her bag. She was one nutty florist, that much was clear. But was she really a witch hunter and – more importantly – was she a witch hunter who was capable of murder?
‘Is she always so … so …’ Dave trailed off, at a loss for words.
‘Yes,’ I replied with a defeated nod. ‘She is.’ Which was why it was so darned hard to figure out if she was responsible for the killing spree, or if she was just acting like her usual self.
Just as Hilda began to hand out her flyers, Biddy stepped in. ‘I’m sorry, Hilda, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Everyone here is enjoying a nice festive Halloween, and all you’re doing is ruining the fun.’
‘Ruining the fun! Well, when you’re all burning in the pits of hell, come back to me and tell me that I was ruining the fun,’ she said as Biddy edged her out the door.
Once she was gone, Biddy shook her head, sighing. ‘Typical Hilda. She hates anything magical. Of everyone in this town, she’s the one person who never gets on board with Halloween celebrations. Or Christmas celebrations. Or anything that’s not miserable.’ She began to pick up the flyers, throwing them into the roaring fire. ‘Anyway, what can I get you my lovelies?’
I managed to grab one of the flyers before responding. ‘We were looking for our friends,’ I said. ‘Detective Quinn. And maybe Grace and Greg, too. Have any of them been in tonight?’
She laughed heartily. ‘Oh, they were in all right. Now there’s some people who know how to let their hair down. They’ve gone back to the lighthouse to carry on the party.’
Dave hadn’t known Detective Quinn very long, but he had known him long enough to share my shock. ‘A party?’ he said. ‘Since when does Dylan Quinn throw parties?’
I shrugged and looked down at the flyer I’d nabbed:
The Save Our Souls Society
is meeting on Pirates’ Pier at midnight tonight, October 30th. Topic for discussion: Ditch Halloween, or be damned for all eternity.
Tea, coffee and biscuits will not be provided. Do you think I’m made of money? Oh, and be sure to wrap up warm.
‘You think she could be the killer?’ wondered Dave. ‘She’s luring people to the pier and then doing some spell to make them kill their friends and loved ones? Although … she probably could have done the one thirty-three years ago, but she wouldn’t even have been born when the one before that happened. Maybe … I dunno … she’s a copycat killer?’
I stared down at the flyer. This seemed like a very unlikely way to go about murdering a third woman. Why invite the whole town if that was the case? Right now, Hilda seemed no more guilty than Dave. ‘Dunno,’ I said. ‘But we’ve got an hour before that meeting, so we’d better get to the lighthouse.’
I stood back, waiting for him to exit before me, when a voice behind me said, ‘Shiver me witches!’
I looked around to see Bod, Biddy’s husband, clearing tables behind me. But Bod wasn’t looking my way, and neither was anyone else. I was just about to chalk it up to the general madness of the season when the voice spoke again – and this time, I saw the speaker.
‘Shiver me witches!’ said the plush-toy parrot on Bod’s shoulder. Only now, it wasn’t looking like a toy parrot, but more like a real one. ‘Pieces of cake!’ squawked the bird, before winking at me, turning away, and looking like a toy parrot once more.
‘Well, that was weird,’ said Dave. ‘But probably not as weird as the rest of the night is going to be.’
He could be right about that. Although whether he was right because he was a murderous weirdo and was the one who was going to make things weird … well, that was something I just couldn’t decide upon. As I followed him out, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out, and read the message on my screen. It was from Dylan.
Come and party with me at the lighthouse, Ash. Let’s have a slow and sexy dance.
My phone buzzed again, and I read the second message.
The lighthouse is on fire this evening. Like my loins for you. Love, Dylan.
It buzzed again, but I cringed and switched it off, refusing to read any more. When this was over, I would happily show him the messages just to see him squirm. For now, I wanted the old Dylan back. My Dylan. Awkward, ornery and the most gorgeous man in Ireland.
18. Party House
Seeing as Greg’s Wizardly Wagon was parked in Dylan’s drive, I knew we were at the right place. When we walked in, half of Riddler’s Edge and Riddler’s Cove were already there. Even – to my horror – Arnold Albright. He was laughing with a bunch of wizards out on the deck. One of them, a friend of Greg’s, was smoking a pipe filled with bubbles.
Each time a bubble floated out, one of the wizards would jump into it, shrinking and flying away, laughing at the tops of their lungs. To my utter shock, my grandfather jumped into one of the bubbles, giggling like a kid.
‘I’m going to be called a downer again,’ said Dave. ‘Or a buzzkill. I just know it.’
‘You and me both,’ I replied as I looked around for Dylan.
He was over in the kitchen, topping up his drink, and he spotted me at the same time as I saw him.
‘Welcome to the party house, gorgeous,’ he said with a suggestive grin, sashaying over to me and planting a kiss on my cheek. Yes, you read that right. He did sashay, and in time with the music, too.
Just before he could get any more embarrassing, Greg, Grace and Pru wandered over, giggling. Grace seemed to be wearing some of Pru’s jewellery, and Pru’s nails were painted in Grace’s shade of red.
Jared trailed behind them, with an attractive redhead in tow.
‘Didn’t you have another stint in the fortune-telling tent at Rachel’s farm tonight?’ I said to Pru, ignoring the puppy-dog eyes Jared was throwing in my direction. Considering he was currently in the arms of another witch, I wished he’d turn those puppy-dog eyes her way instead of mine.
‘Hmm? Oh, yeah,’ said Pru. ‘Yeah, I didn’t really have much fun there today, to be honest, so I decided not to work again this evening. But hey, if you can’t relax on Halloween, then when can you relax?’
‘Technically,’ said Dave, ‘it’s not Halloween until after midnight tonight. It’s still the thirtieth.’
Pru rolled her eyes. ‘Why do you have to be such a downer, Dave?’
Dave let out a frustrated little grunt and looked at me.
‘He’s not being a downer,’ I said. ‘Although there’s a small but deadly chance that the town’s latest serial killer might be about to put someone down. So I need to talk to you. All of you.’ I glanced out at the deck again, where Arnold had burst out of his bubble and was now leaning on his cane. No, it wasn’t his cane, actually – or at least it wasn’t his usual one. He must have lost the spiral-designed one again. ‘And I’d rather keep Arnold out of, well, any of my business. So can we go somewhere private?’
Dylan moved close again. ‘We can go to my bedroom, baby.’
‘Hey!’ Jared dropped his date’s arm and glared at Dylan. ‘That’s not very gentlemanly, is it? Ash deserves to be treated like a queen.’ He turned his eyes on me, going full puppy-dog again. ‘And I would treat you like a queen.’
‘Someone’s got a crush,’ said Grace, before blowing a pink bubble from her mouth, grabbing Pru and saying, ‘Let’s go back over to the couch. This is kind of boring, and I never did your toenails. Come on!’
It didn’t really matter, I supposed – it wasn’t as though my one locket could ever protect them all. ‘Before you go,’ I said to Grace. ‘Can I just borrow one of Pru’s chains from you?’
‘Of course,’ she replied, beaming at me and handing me a chain. ‘I often think you should wear more jewellery. Or colour. Or, well, something other than black on black.’
‘Hey!’ Dylan protested. ‘She looks amazing in black. Sexy but dangerous.’
‘If you say so,’ said Grace, then ran over to the couch, where Pru was already pulling off her boots and wiggling her toes in readiness. Greg, for some reason, decided that he too wanted his toenails painted, and rushed over to join them.
‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘Let’s just get on with this.’ I eyed Dave while I carefully unhooked my chain and joined it to Pru’s in order to make a longer one. Now wasn’t really the time for me to try out my fledgling magic skills. Either way, the chain was longer now, which was what I wanted. ‘Okay,’ I said to Dylan. ‘Why don’t you see if you can slip on under this locket with me?’
‘Why? Oh, wait, let me guess – it’s because you want to be as close as you can get to my hot bod.’
‘Mm hm,’ I said. ‘That’s exactly the reason. Now shimmy on over here, Mister Hot Bod.’
As he ducked his body to slip his head under the chain, I felt a pang of sadness and longing. I really did want to be close to him again, but not in a desperate moment like this, and not when he wasn’t acting like himself. As soon as he was fully beneath the locket, I said, ‘So um … how do you feel?’
He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. ‘Like I want to throw caution to the wind and party with you.’
‘Oh.’ A wave of disappointment washed over me, and I glanced at Dave. ‘It hasn’t worked.’
‘Try Jared,’ he suggested. ‘We need someone else to help us if we’re going to stop what’s about to happen on Pirates’ Pier.’
‘What’s about to happen on the pier?’ asked Jared, pushing Dylan out of the way and slipping under the locket. ‘Is it a party? I’m really in the mood for a party.’
I groaned and pulled the chain over his head, undoing the extension I’d made with Pru’s chain. ‘It’s not the Impervium,’ I said. ‘It’s made no difference to these guys. It must be because I’m half sióga.’ I glanced at my watch. We had half an hour left before Hilda’s Save Our Souls meeting began. It was time to get out of here.
I stood on my tip
toes and kissed Dylan on the cheek. ‘Enjoy the rest of your party. Hopefully I’ll see you – the real you – soon.’
He gave me a crooked smile. ‘Oh, you can see all of me any time you want to, baby.’
I shuddered, pulled away, and Dave and I made our way to the door. We were just about to leave when Arnold Albright approached.
‘Aisling, I’m so glad to see my granddaughter out having fun.’
‘Fun. Sure, that’s what I’m having.’
I opened the door, about to vacate the lighthouse and the conversation, when he staggered slightly. I might be able to be standoffish with Arnold, but I couldn’t be outright cruel. I put out a hand to support him.
‘Your usual cane is missing again, I see. You need to get a better spare, Arnold. You can barely stand upright with this one.’
He laughed uncomfortably. ‘Oh, yes. I em … I have no idea where I left my good cane. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t firmly attached.’
I had the urge to narrow my eyes, cross my arms and question him some more. Arnold might have convinced me he’d mislaid his cane last Midsummer, but I was having a hard time believing he would have lost it twice. He might like to mess with other people’s memories, but his own was in perfect working order. But his cane was an issue that would just have to niggle me for a little while longer, because right now I had a murderer to stop.
‘What’s she doing here?’ he wondered dazedly, looking over my shoulder.
‘Who?’
‘That human woman.’ He pointed towards the couch. I couldn’t see anyone there. Even Grace, Greg and Pru were gone. He shrugged. ‘Maybe my old eyes imagined it. Hey, my new friend Larry is just taking a batch of special brownies out of the oven. Want to share?’
‘I’m good, thanks.’ I glanced at Dave. ‘Did you see Grace, Pru and Greg leave their toenail-painting party?’
Shiver Me Witches Page 12
