Witch out of Time

by Elle Adams

  The sceptre’s carrier turned to me. “And what do we have here?”

  “Aveline,” said Madame Grey, “meet Alissa, my granddaughter, and Blair Wilkes, the newest witch to enter Fairy Falls.”

  “New, are you? You’re a bit tall for a six-year-old.”

  It probably wasn’t polite not to laugh at the Head Witch’s jokes, so I forced a weak chuckle. “Uh, I’m twenty-five.”

  “I might be old, but I’m no fool, Blair Wilkes. What coven do you belong to?”

  “Meadowsweet… by adoption.” For now. My mother’s coven was extinct, but now didn’t seem the time to bring her up. Not with the other witches scrutinising me. Aveline wouldn’t know I was related to Tanith Wildflower by looking at me, considering my human appearance was technically a fairy glamour I’d been wearing all my life.

  “This is not suitable weather to stand outside,” Madame Grey said. “Come along, and I’ll show you our coven’s headquarters.

  She beckoned, and the group of witches followed her. Behind the Head Witch, three witches walked in a huddle, grumbling about the cold, drizzly weather.

  “The Head Witch isn’t what I expected,” Alissa said. “Then again, she is eighty-seven, and has been carrying that sceptre for years.”

  “So it can pick the same person each year?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “I guess there hasn’t been any competition for a while. I’m kind of surprised my grandmother is trying to claim it. She never showed any ambitions to rule over the region before—one coven is quite enough.”

  “Not to mention the entire town,” I added. “Imagine how long the council meetings to address complaints from all the local covens would last if we brought in all the other towns, too.”

  “Tell me about it,” said Alissa. “She must have a plan for if she wins. I wouldn’t have thought she’d want to leave the council unattended for long, either, considering all the trouble we’ve had this year. The Head Witch often has to leave town to visit the region’s other magical communities.”

  “I assume she does have a plan.” Madame Grey knew what she was doing, I was certain of that. “She told me Aveline knew my mother.”

  “Really?” Alissa said. “I suppose she must have met people from all over, considering she’s been Head Witch for years.”

  “Even career criminals.” I tried to keep my tone light, but failed. Just the mention of Tanith Wildflower had brought all my worries and speculations back to the surface.

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” said Alissa.

  It sounds that way. I hated to imagine my mother might have been anything other than the loving parent she’d been denied the opportunity to be, but the hunters made no mistakes when they arrested paranormals who’d committed crimes. That my dad was locked up in the most notorious paranormal prison in the northwest of England seemed to prove what Nathan’s father had claimed—namely, that both my parents had been notorious thieves. My foster parents had never met my birth family, either. Wilkes was their surname, and I still felt more of a connection to them than I did to the witch who’d seen to it that I didn’t grow up in the magical world at all.

  I beckoned to Sky. “We should head home before it gets dark.”

  “I’ll fix the hat,” Alissa said. “Give it here.”

  “Sure.” I handed it over gratefully. “One more week of this left. Then you can get back to sleeping all day, okay, Sky?”

  “Miaow.” The small black cat was hardly visible under the darkening sky as we descended the hill towards Fairy Falls.

  “I think he’s being very patient for a fairy cat.” Alissa waved her wand, repairing the hat, and handed it back to me. “Are you seeing Nathan tonight?”

  “He’s on security duty again,” I said. “Making sure nobody plans to interrupt the ceremony. Like the hunters.”

  “I thought they hadn’t been seen in months.”

  “They haven’t, but you never know.” Even Nathan’s hunter relatives hadn’t come back to town since their visit over the summer. It had been Nathan’s own father who’d alerted me to the fact that my mother had died—not far from here. Yet Nathan’s family didn’t worry me nearly as much as Inquisitor Hare, leader of the hunters, not least because he’d asked me to work for him. I’d refused, and no repercussions had come back to hit me so far, but that he knew more than I did about my family disturbed me to no end.

  “I wouldn’t have thought it would be their thing,” Alissa said. “Celebrating Samhain, I mean. They don’t seem like the partying sort.”

  “You’re not wrong.” With the exception of his younger sister, Erin, Nathan’s family had disliked me from the outset and thoroughly disapproved of both me and Fairy Falls. It hadn’t helped that Sky had shown up at my first dinner with my boyfriend’s family and sat on the table, then invited a pixie into the house.

  Yet despite our rocky start, Nathan and I were doing just fine, considering we only got to see one another once or twice a week. His obligations as the leader of the town’s security team kept him busy, while with my own packed schedule, it was a miracle I found time to sleep, let alone hang out with my boyfriend.

  Alissa and I made our way through the quiet, winding streets of the town. Sky nudged my ankle as we drew close to home. The large brick house was divided into flats, owned by Madame Grey herself, who… stood on the doorstep, along with the rest of the visiting witches. Aveline turned to face us when we approached, leaning on her walking stick.

  “There you are, Blair,” said Madame Grey. “Won’t you and Alissa help the others get settled in?”

  I blinked. “Um, settled in?”

  “Didn’t you know?” she said. “The potential Head Witches will be staying in your house.”

  2

  From the shock on Alissa’s face, she hadn’t expected guests, either.

  “Didn’t you get my message?” asked Madame Grey.

  Well, no. The Head Witch looked up at the house and wrinkled her nose, as though it was a run-down hovel, not one of the grandest properties in town.

  “I’ve been at work all day,” said Alissa. “I barely made it in time for the rehearsal. Where are they staying, upstairs?”

  There were six witches, all cloaked and carrying suitcases. It would be hard to fit them into one room, which was probably why Madame Grey had volunteered our house to serve as accommodation. It would have been nice to be forewarned, considering Sky reacted unpredictably to strangers. He hid behind my ankles, eyeing the witches with a distrusting expression.

  “They’ll be staying in the empty ground-floor flat and the upstairs one,” Madame Grey said. “I think that’s all for now. Do call me if you need anything.”

  She turned and strode away, leaving Alissa and me awkwardly standing outside with the way into the house blocked by a gaggle of suitcase-carrying witches. While it was no big secret that Madame Grey often rented out her properties to family and friends, the only neighbour we were on speaking terms with was Nina who lived upstairs. Our rent was very modest in comparison to the house’s sheer size and impressiveness, and two of the flats were unoccupied. Still, I’d never seen so many strangers here before.

  “Mother, put the suitcase down,” said a female witch wearing a long green travelling cloak. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “Don’t talk to me as though I’m an infant,” snapped Aveline. “I can still use a wand, you know.”

  She waved the sceptre, levitating her suitcase into the air. The woman who’d spoken to her, who was around Rita’s age, moved aside to allow her elderly mother to pass through the doorway into the flat across the corridor from ours. The two of them had similar beaky features and long noses, though Aveline’s were considerably more wrinkled, and her hair was grey rather than black. She gave the sceptre another casual flick, and the suitcase clattered to a halt in the middle of the living room.

  “I do wish you wouldn’t use the sceptre for that,” said the green-cloaked witch.

  “It’s a wand like any oth
er,” Aveline grunted, shuffling into the room. As she and her daughter moved aside, three of the other witches made for the stairs, levitating their suitcases ahead of them. I crossed my fingers that they weren’t throwing wild midnight raves. Sky didn’t react well to having his sleep disturbed—and what if the pixie decided to pay me a visit again?

  The memory of how the glitter-wielding little fairy had interrupted my dinner with Nathan’s family occupied the top spot on my list of the five most humiliating experiences of my life, beating some strong competition. I was, as Alissa kindly put it, a magnet for disasters of all kinds. If I’d known all the regional hopefuls for the position of Head Witch would be staying in my house, I’d have asked Madame Grey to purchase some Blair insurance on the off-chance that the roof fell on all our heads. I had trouble enough maintaining the facade of a competent witch outside the safety of my own home, let alone with so many prestigious witches staying next door.

  At least I hadn’t seen the pixie in weeks. Whenever I wrote a letter to my dad and left it out at night, it had always vanished by morning, yet the pixie never showed himself in front of me. Now, I was glad of it. I doubted the witches wanted to be showered with glitter in the middle of the night.

  Alissa and I entered the hallway behind the last witch, who had shoulder-length blond hair and softer features than the other new arrivals. She strode into the ground-floor flat opposite ours, halting as the Head Witch gestured around the room with the sceptre. Isn’t that a safety hazard?

  “It’s rather drab, isn’t it?” said Aveline. “Where is the master bedroom?”

  “There isn’t one, mother,” said her daughter. “The house is rented by several families. That’s why Blair and Alissa are here, right?”

  “Exactly,” I said. “We live opposite you. There are two bedrooms in this flat, right?”

  “Only two?” Aveline tutted. “What a disgrace. I suppose Madame Grey wanted to put us in this dump to build character. I’m eight-seven years old and I need my comforts.” She hobbled across the room, which was the exact opposite of a dump in every way.

  “Um, this house is actually bigger than my grandmother’s,” Alissa said. “It’s the best we have. You don’t live in a palace, do you?”

  “Do you think you’re amusing, young witch?” she enquired. “No, I do not live in a palace, but I expect the basic necessities.” She gave a dismissive gesture at the well-made wooden furniture, the modern kitchen appliances, and the comfy armchairs.

  “Such as…?” I arched a brow.

  “A fireplace, for one. These old bones get cold.” She waved the sceptre and a fireplace sprang into existence in front of the armchairs.

  “Where did you get that from?” Alissa asked.

  “Nowhere that will miss it.” Aveline gave a harsh laugh, and my dislike of her multiplied tenfold. No spell could conjure anything out of nowhere, so there was a chance the fireplace’s owner would march over here and blame us for the Head Witch’s thievery.

  Surveying the room with satisfaction, Aveline waved the sceptre and moved the sofa directly in front of the fireplace. Then she sat down, in a manner that suggested she wouldn’t get up again even if the house caught fire. “Much better. These modern houses aren’t equipped for witches like me.”

  “The house is a hundred years old,” Alissa informed her. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

  “Aren’t you Madame Grey’s granddaughter?” said the Head Witch’s daughter, eying Alissa curiously.

  “Oh, we’re doing introductions?” said Aveline. “This is Vanessa, my daughter and second in command. I play favourites, otherwise she’d never have got anywhere in life. Hopeless, that one.”

  That’s nice. Vanessa grimaced and ducked her head but didn’t look surprised at her mother’s dismissal. I could only assume she’d built up an immunity to Aveline’s barbed comments.

  “I’m Alissa Grey,” said Alissa.

  “And you’re here to put in a bid for the position of Head Witch?” said Aveline, scanning Alissa with her sharp, clever eyes.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “My grandmother is, so I’m sitting this one out.”

  “How dull,” said Aveline. “Nothing wrong with a little healthy competition. It’s why my daughter’s here. I wouldn’t have suffered to put up with her nagging otherwise.”

  I frowned. “You’re competing against one another?”

  “We would both prefer it if the sceptre remained within our coven,” said Vanessa.

  “That’s allowed, then?” I asked.

  “That’s allowed?” Aveline hooted. “This one has a lot to learn. Didn’t you see the Rosemary witches? All three of them are competing against one another for the prize.”

  “They’re upstairs,” said Alissa. “So it’s just you two, and…?” She indicated the bedroom at the far end, into which the blond witch had disappeared.

  “That’s Shannon,” said Aveline. “From the unfortunately-named Gooseberry Coven.”

  “And the sceptre will pick one of you on Samhain?” That meant they’d be staying in our house for a week.

  “Yes, it will.” Aveline lifted the sceptre in a wide sweep that caused her suitcase to fly across the room, almost knocking her daughter off her feet in the process.

  I backed out of range. “We’ll let you get on with it, then.”

  Alissa and I went into our own ground-floor flat. The furniture was old but sturdy, while the place was warm and inviting despite the chill outside.

  “Who needs a fireplace when you have magic?” I hung up my cloak and propped my hat on the top shelf beside the front door. “I think someone’s been spoiled for too long.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” Alissa removed her cloak and hat, hanging them up beside mine. “My grandmother never spoke of Aveline in a favourable light. She must be certain this is the right decision.”

  “Not that it’s her who’s making the sacrifice.” I scanned the room in search of Sky and spotted him sulking under the sofa. “Come out, Sky. I’ll give you a treat.”

  I went to the cupboard and fetched the bag of cat treats, but Sky refused to emerge.

  “He’s never seen so many strangers before, has he?” Alissa stroked her own familiar, who was hiding behind a cushion. “Roald is a little nervous, too.”

  Her own familiar was typically friendly with everyone, but the sheer racket coming from across the corridor suggested the other witches were moving furniture around. Or conjuring up more fireplaces from other people’s houses. Being the Head Witch must mean being able to get away with a lot, but I sincerely hoped the police wouldn’t show up on the doorstep and pin the blame on us.

  Sky reached out a paw, snatched the treat, and withdrew under the sofa again. Fairy cats could be incredibly stubborn when they wanted to be.

  “They’re only staying until Samhain, right?” I walked over to Sky’s food bowl and left another treat there in the hopes of coaxing him out from under the sofa.

  “I hope so,” said Alissa. “Some might stay until the fifth of November…”

  “You mean bonfire night.” I returned the bag of treats to the cupboard and washed my hands in the kitchen sink. “Is that a thing in the magical world? Or was Guy Fawkes actually a wizard?”

  “They say he was,” she said. “Not a very good one, but the magical world does like an excuse for a celebration. Anyway, we’ll just have to show up for the ceremony on Samhain. The other witches will stay out of the way the rest of the time.”

  “Except for the part where they’re living in our house,” I added. “I assume they want to keep to themselves.” I hope.

  “I doubt they’ll be into wild partying, at least.” She sank into the armchair, Roald climbing into her lap.

  “Just as long the elves don’t decide to pay another early morning visit.”

  “Ah.” She stroked Roald. “They haven’t bothered you for a while, have they?”

  “I’m still recovering from August, to be honest.” The last time
the elves had shown up to demand a favour from me, they’d crashed my boyfriend’s dinner party in front of most of his family, and the pixie had thrown glitter all over the dining room. Not an experience I wanted to repeat in front of a bunch of prestigious witches. Or, well, ever.

  There was a loud crash. Roald jumped out of Alissa’s lap, and she got to her feet. “I’d better make sure they haven’t broken the furniture. My grandmother would kill me”

  “It’s hardly your fault if they have, since the Head Witch is…” I cut myself off, seeing the door to the flat opposite ours was still open.

  “It’s an absolute disgrace!” said Aveline, who was on her feet once again. “This is no accommodation fit for a witch of my stature. I will not sleep in here.”

  Oh, great. What was her issue this time?

  “What’s the problem?” asked Alissa. “Should I call my grandmother?”

  “Certainly not,” said Aveline. “Shannon took the last room.”

  “I sleepwalk,” said the blond witch, who stood in the doorway to one of the bedrooms. “I also cast spells in my sleep, so my wand has to be kept in a different room if you don’t want to wake up with no eyebrows.”

  “Be reasonable, mother,” Vanessa told Aveline. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor to give you more space.”

  “I’m eighty-seven,” she said. “I can’t sleep in a cupboard like that.”

  “What’s wrong with that room?” I peered over her shoulder into a room that looked almost identical to mine, except with a view of the front garden rather than the back.

  “I need an open window to sleep,” she said.

  “You can open the window.” I pulled out my wand and unlocked it. “See?”

  “Don’t play smart with me, witchling.” She jabbed the sceptre in the direction of the window. “See that? Lavender. I’m allergic. Give it a few hours and my face will puff up to the size of a melon. And I am not sleeping on a sofa.”