Shiver Me Witches

by A. A. Albright

  I didn’t like the sound of that oh. It was an oh that suggested she had seen my locket, and she was about to nab it. But I wriggled with all my might, and threw the chain over my head at the same time.

  And then I stood, facing down the tavern wench, and singing as loud as my terrible voice would carry. Just like when I broke us out of the prison cell, I imagined that my voice was carrying my power. When I said Púca magic was going to be hard to fight, I wasn’t wrong. The cells that contained Biddy’s magic were slippery little buggers. But I’d spent years chasing down magic before I knew for sure that the supernatural was real. I was nothing if not stubborn. I increased the sound, opening my mouth wider and wider, sending my ugly but awesome sounds out into the world.

  It took some time (frankly, I think Biddy’s ears gave up before her magic did) but eventually, she sank to her knees, shaking her head and looking perplexedly my way. ‘What are you? Why do I feel like every single ounce of my power is shattering into tiny pieces and drifting away?’

  I gave her my most winning smile and said, ‘You’re not the only woman in town whose father left her a gift or two.’ And then I carried right on singing, just because she seemed to be enjoying it so gosh darn much.

  23. Pieces of Cake

  I don’t know if you’ve ever lived in a town that’s been enchanted into stupidity by a murdering Púca. But if you have, then you’ll know that such magic can leave a little bit of a hangover, and a lot of embarrassment in its wake.

  The Wayfarers had swooped in the night before (perhaps sidled in sheepishly would be a more apt description) and had carried out all the necessary arrests and memory spells. People had listened to me, finally, as soon as Biddy’s magic was no longer in the air. Sure, they had listened with somewhat shamefaced expressions, but at least they did listen. The Wayfarers had even used my suggestion for what to tell the humans about Evelyn’s and Cora’s deaths – we were blaming it on the seafood platter.

  On the surface of things, everything had returned to normal. Dave the genie was now in Witchfield, which I was a little bit sad about. Biddy was there too, but I wasn’t remotely sad about that. Hilda couldn’t remember a thing about our conversation the night before, although she did recoil a little when I passed by her shop at nine that morning. Seeing as there was a definite chance that there was a witch hunter gene, and that she might well have it, she was under close (and secret) observation. I sincerely doubted that it would make her feel anymore paranoid than she already did.

  And as for all of the mortification bubbling away beneath the surface … well, that might be why the Daily Riddler had only two employees present that morning: Grace and me. And seeing as Grace lived there, her attendance didn’t mean much.

  ‘So,’ she said as I walked into her apartment. ‘Everything’s um … well, you know … So … how are you?’

  She was sitting on her sunken couch, dressed in a staid grey suit. Her golden hair was uncurled for the first time since I’d known her, and her shoes were flat. But it wasn’t all doom and gloom. She had two steaming mugs of coffee ready for our chat, and a plate of chocolate bourbons.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Nollaig is a bit upset about Dave, and I guess I am too. I understand why he did what he did.’

  ‘No you don’t.’ Grace shook her head. ‘How could you understand it? I know you, Ash. You’d never consider selling out a friend the way he did.’

  ‘Maybe. But he came through in the end. And I’ve never had my lamp smashed to pieces by an evil witch who refuses to put it back together so … who knows how I’d react? How are you feeling after being crammed into that box?’

  She rubbed her back. ‘Sore. Very, very sore. And do you know what the worst thing was? When Biddy came to the lighthouse last night, she didn’t even have to use her magic to convince us to go off with her. She just had to ask us if we’d like to play a game.’ Grace shuddered. ‘I’ve known Púca in my time. But it’s been many decades since I’ve actually experienced their magic. You forget, y’know. Our whole system is set up to make us believe the hype – that we witches are all-powerful, and woe betide any supernatural who should cross us. It’s humbling to be reminded of the truth. Púca are far more powerful.’ She gave me a wry grin and grasped my hand. ‘Luckily for us, we had someone even more powerful on our side.’

  I let out a snort of laughter – because I’m amazing at taking compliments. ‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘I already know you neglected to put out a daily edition, but what about this evening’s paper?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not going to happen, I’m afraid. Everyone else has called in with hangovers, so there’s no way we’ll make it. But I do have an idea for a special edition that’ll go out tomorrow. It came to me when you told me about Maude and Billy last night. I thought we could do a special on them. The fact that Maude waited all this time is ridiculously romantic. The readers will love it. How is the Vander Inn’s resident houseghost taking the news, by the way?’

  ‘I haven’t told her yet,’ I admitted. ‘She ran my bath this morning and we chatted about Halloween. But until I see Billy, I don’t want to get her hopes up. Speaking of …’ I glanced at my watch. ‘Florence told me she’d be finished with him round about now. Want to come to Night and Gale with me and see how he’s doing?’

  Grace stood up. ‘Definitely. Want to grab hold of my hand and I’ll take you there?’

  I gave her a tentative smile. ‘Actually … I’m going to try to travel myself.’ I stood alongside her, shaking with nerves. ‘But if I don’t make it in one piece, tell Fuzz I love him.’

  ≈

  Florence was the top healer at Night and Gale, so I knew Billy was in good hands. I’d only seen him briefly last night, his face befuddled, clutching onto his parrot while the Wayfarers explained the truth.

  Even if he was still a little bit befuddled today, he’d be in good company with me. Sure, I made it in one piece via my finger-clicking goodness, but it would take me a while to come down from the excitement of travelling.

  ‘How’s he doing?’ asked Grace as Florence met us in the foyer. Gretel, my favourite Wayfarer, was standing behind her.

  Florence looked at me. She had a kind but concerned smile on her pretty, heart-shaped face. ‘He’s em … he’s in an interesting condition. I’ve heard from the healer at Witchfield, and Biddy is in an interesting condition, too.’

  I expected Florence to elaborate, but she didn’t. Instead she said, ‘In any case, Billy would love to see you before he leaves the hospital. He’ll tell you more about what’s happening with him. He’s in room sixty-three when you’re ready.’

  As Florence clicked her fingers and disappeared, Gretel stepped forward. Well, she tripped forward, then straightened herself up. It had nothing to do with a magic hangover. It was just Gretel being Gretel. ‘Everything was a bit mental last night,’ she said. ‘I know that Todge took a statement from you but … he kind of got jam all over it. Can we talk for a sec before you go up?’

  Todge was one of the Wayfarers who’d been first on the scene to arrest Biddy. He’d just asked me the basic facts, and I’d been hoping no one would ask me much more. ‘Sure, I guess,’ I said, unable to hide my reluctance.

  ‘Okay.’ Gretel sat into one of the comfy chairs that were scattered throughout the hospital’s foyer. ‘Well, Biddy is screaming about you to anyone who’ll listen. She’s saying that you should be investigated because your power isn’t right. Don’t worry, though. You stopped the woman who’d been messing with minds and sacrificing people to Feckless Finnegan for centuries. We’re just happy that someone was able to fight her, because we certainly weren’t doing a stand-up job. But what did you do to her on that pier last night, Ash? You not only overpowered Biddy, but you’ve managed to undo every ounce of magic she’s used over the centuries. You never fell under her enchantment, either. Sure, that double-crossing genie was also immune. But he wasn’t able to fight her. That was all you.’

  I sat into one of the chairs across
from Gretel, with Grace gently taking my hand. I could see by the look in her eyes that she was ready to back me up in whatever I said. The thing was, I wasn’t sure what to say. My power had been suppressed for years, but I had no idea who suppressed it or why. Was it my mother, trying to hide me from Arnold? It seemed the most likely cause, but I couldn’t be sure.

  And as for Arnold, well it was now one hundred percent clear to me that he knew exactly what my father had been. I’d always suspected as much, but now there was no doubt. What did he have to do with my parents’ disappearance? And what was his agenda when it came to me?

  I’d been keeping my power and my progress a secret from him for so long. But he already knew what I was, I was sure of it. And if he didn’t know that I’d inherited my father’s power along with my mother’s, he’d soon put it together. By now, everyone knew that Biddy was a Púca. Arnold would know exactly what sort of power would be needed in order to defeat her. Was there really any point in keeping my secret any longer?

  ‘I’m half fae,’ I said finally. ‘My father was one of the sióga. Brian the Brave, in fact. I’ve been getting to grips with that side of my power for a while. That’s how I was able to fight Biddy’s magic.’

  Gretel shook her head, letting out a low whistle. ‘Well knock me down with a feather! I knew there was something about you when we met on the train. I thought it was just because you were a little bit witchy but … wowser.’

  ‘Wowser indeed,’ said Grace, clearing her throat and sitting forward. ‘This is sensitive information, Gretel. Can we trust you to keep this to yourself for as long as possible?’

  ‘Of course but … I’m confused. We all heard the story that Abby Albright disappeared. Years later we find out you might be her daughter. But what happened to Abby?’

  ‘We don’t know,’ I said. ‘That’s what’s sensitive about this. Arnold told me she was dead. He said that he employed some seers to help him find her when she went missing, and that they told him she passed away. But I’ve got a fairly big reason for believing that she might actually be alive.’ I stopped short of mentioning Pru. She was content to use her power as a seer to tell people’s fortunes at fairs. I knew she didn’t want any attention on what she could really do. ‘And actually,’ I continued, ‘my mother isn’t the only one who no one’s seen for thirty years. Brian the Brave’s been missing all that time, too. And you must have heard how much my grandfather hates the fae.’

  Gretel gave me a dry smile. ‘Ash, I don’t want to say anything nasty about your grandfather. Family is complicated. But … it sometimes seems to me like Arnold hates everyone who’s not a witch. He’s old-school in the worst way. Do you think he had something to do with your parents’ disappearance? Because if that’s the case, the Wayfarers would be happy to investigate.’

  While Grace squeezed my hand, I gave Gretel a worried smile. ‘It might need to come to that soon,’ I said, before explaining what I’d read in my mother’s last letter to Arnold.

  Grace swiped angrily at a tear that was falling down her cheek. ‘For the last few days we’ve all been behaving like idiots, while Aisling’s been processing all of this on her own. Arnold could well have been the last person Abby spoke to before she disappeared. And it seems like Brian the Brave was supposed to be with her when she went to talk to him. What that means … well, I think we’re all feeling a little bit uneasy about that.’

  Gretel picked up her truncheon, tapping it against her thigh. Her long, dark braided hair fell over her eyes. ‘So let me get this straight,’ she said, blowing one of her braids out of her face. ‘Brian the Brave disappeared at the same time as Abby Albright. And even the Queen of the sióga realm doesn’t know where her son is. But … Arnold couldn’t have done anything to them, could he? I mean … how? Brian the Brave’s power would have been a gazillion times stronger than Arnold’s.’

  I pulled my hand from Grace’s and clutched the seat of my chair. ‘That’s the mystery,’ I said. ‘Maybe something happened to them that had nothing to do with Arnold. For now, though … do you think you could sit on this info for a little while, Gretel? Things have been so crazy the last couple of days. Now that my friends are back to normal, I want to talk things over with them. Plus, I’m afraid that if there’s some big investigation, Arnold might do something stupid.’

  Gretel nodded. ‘That makes sense. If he knows more than he’s been letting on all these years, we’ll definitely have to be cautious. So yeah, I’ll sit on it. For now.’

  ≈

  While Gretel was sitting on a very big secret, Billy was sitting on the edge of his hospital bed, rearranging his eyepatch while a ghostly parrot fluttered around the room.

  ‘Pieces of cake!’ squawked the bird. ‘Give me some pieces of cake!’

  ‘Is that the bird that was a soft toy sitting on his shoulder all these years?’ asked Grace in a low voice. ‘Why is it a ghost now?’

  ‘Well now,’ said Billy. ‘I reckon my Chatty Patty’s been a ghost for quite some time, only Biddy’s been hiding the fact.’

  That would explain why I could see and hear the bird last night, then. And because we were well into the day of Halloween, Grace could see her now, too.

  The bird flew to his shoulder, and he stroked her. As his hand moved, I noticed that it wasn’t looking quite as solid as it ought. ‘You’ll be the ladies from the Daily Riddler.’ He tipped his black hat in my direction. ‘And you’ll be the one who saved me from that woman who’s been pretending to be my wife. Don’t know as I can ever thank you enough, young lady. Particularly since I don’t have much time left on these old legs of mine.’

  I sat down next to him. He was looking less solid by the minute. I was beginning to get an idea of what Florence had meant when she spoke of Billy’s interesting condition. ‘Billy, I know that Biddy had a thousand years to live and she gave you the same. Has that changed, now that her magic’s been dealt with?’

  He gave me a wide grin. In all the months I’d been to the Fisherman’s Friend and seen this man pour pints, I’d never seen him look quite so happy. Considering he appeared to be turning into a ghost before my eyes, it was a strange reaction for him to have.

  ‘That’s it in a nutshell. For years that woman called me Bod. Called me her husband, matter of fact. Gave me a thousand years to live, but she might as well have given me none. It weren’t living. Couldn’t remember nothing about my real self. My real life. Now, that thousand years is gone. It’s the same for Biddy, by all accounts. She might not even last long enough to see her trial. I’m fading away, as I should have done a long, long time ago. And I couldn’t be happier about it. I’ve only one regret. And that’s the fact that the woman I truly loved will have died many years ago. Maude, she were called. The most loveliest, most nicest woman I ever did lay my eyes upon. Still.’ He smiled again. ‘I reckon I’ll see her in the afterlife, and that’s good enough for me.’

  I grabbed his hand, but my own palm just travelled through his, like nothing was there. ‘Actually, Billy … I think you might be seeing her a whole lot sooner than that.’

  24. Scaredy-Cat

  As the day wore on, and the magic hangover wore off, Riddler’s Edge returned to normal. Well, as normal as a semi-supernatural town at Halloween can be. The air might be clear of Biddy’s trickster magic, but there was a lot more magic to go around. Enough magic to make ghosts walk the earth. Enough magic to draw tourists and trick or treaters from far and wide. Enough magic to make everyone feel wonderful.

  Well, almost everyone. I still hadn’t seen Dylan. There’d been a short text message from him earlier in the morning to say he’d be busy working with the Wayfarers all day, but that he’d meet me at the Vander Inn at eight.

  I had the feeling he was embarrassed. Human memories might have been cleansed of the silly things they got up to under Biddy’s magic, but all the supernatural memories in the area were one hundred percent intact. Really, he had nothing to be embarrassed about. I wouldn’t even tease him about how his a
lter-ego had behaved over the last few days. Well … not much.

  Even without him, the afternoon was a joy. Greg finally dragged himself out of bed and joined Grace and me when we went to Riddler’s Cove community hall. Greg was dressed up as a character from Witch Wars called Nular the Necromancer. There was a cloak involved, and a spell that made his face look skeletal in certain lights. Grace wasn’t in costume, but she did curl her hair and put her make-up on again – red lipstick, not pink.

  Seeing the kids in Riddler’s Cove perform was something I’ll never forget. Sadie, the little vampire, compelled the entire audience into handing over their wallets and purses. Oddly, I didn’t feel remotely compelled by her – either it was because of my locket, or else immunity to vampires was just one more gift my father gave me. I pretended to be compelled all the same.

  After Sadie handed everything back, a weredog kid demonstrated how to make your own tofu, a young witch showed off his flying skills, and a werewolf child demonstrated her strength by lifting six barrels of one of my favourite potions, A Short Burst of Happiness. I was impressed, I had to say. My major talent when I was a kid was being kicked out of foster families almost as soon as I walked through the door. Okay, maybe that’s not so much of a talent as it is a rather depressing childhood tale.

  After visiting the neighbouring town, Grace went off to a party in Dublin – she said she’d join us at the pier later – and Greg and I headed to the Vander Inn. We found an exceptionally upbeat Nollaig standing at the front door, handing out treats to a steady stream of human kids. ‘I love this time of year,’ she said as we arrived. ‘Jared and Pru are in charge of the bar if you’d like a drink.’

  We smiled at her, and headed on in. There are moments when there’s nothing else to do but pause and stare, and when I walked into the dining room, I had one of those moments.