by Nancy Warren
She shook her head impatiently. “You don’t need to steal the computer. I just need some files.”
“Why don’t you do it? You’re the master of disguise. Go in and pretend you’re the photocopy repair person.”
“I can’t get in as easily as you can, and I’m not trusted. They’d be watching me.”
I turned to Theodore. “You’ll have to do it.”
He looked very unhappy. Computers were not Theodore’s thing. “They don’t know me, either. But they know you.”
I said in exasperation, “What exactly is it you need?”
“I need to hack into his work files,” Penelope said, leaning forward. “I want to see the budget for The Professor’s Wife and the books for the entire company. What was it that made Bryce so uncomfortable?”
The scones were as delicious as ever, but the meeting with Penelope Grainger still left a sour taste in my mouth.
Chapter 19
Of course, when I told him, Rafe immediately vetoed the idea of me going back to Rune Films, especially when it transpired that I was supposed to steal Bryce Teddington’s computer.
“Have you forgotten that Bryce Teddington ended up murdered?” he all but yelled.
Rafe so rarely raised his voice that I knew he was worried about me so I tried not to take the yelling personally. Besides, I didn’t remotely want to go to Rune Films.
I explained about Penelope Grainger and her theory. He looked supremely unimpressed. “Perhaps Ms. Grainger should do her own snooping,” he said coldly.
I heartily agreed, but I also needed to find the jewels. If someone at Rune Films had been embezzling, then they must need money. And even if stealing jewels worth millions was only a smokescreen, they’d still pocketed jewels worth millions. They had to have put them somewhere.
We were arguing about it when my phone rang.
Between worrying about how the shop was managing without me and, far more importantly, how I was ever going to get Sylvia’s jewels back, I had to admit my witch training was right down near the bottom of my list of concerns. Unfortunately, my mentor and the head of my coven felt very differently.
Margaret Twigg was on the phone. That in itself was unusual. Her voice sounded raspy and peculiar, and I suspected telephoning people was about the last thing she ever wanted to do.
“Lucy,” she said, practically shouting. “I went to the shop to see you and you weren’t there. You didn’t seem to be in your flat, either.”
“No. How can I help you?” I wasn’t going to tell her that I was staying at Rafe’s place because without his protection a vampire might tear me to pieces. It was none of her business.
She said, “You’re not hiding from me, are you?”
It wasn’t a bad guess, but if I was hiding from anyone right now, it was Sylvia. “Of course not,” I said. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Busy studying your grimoire, I hope. And busy practicing your spells. Even better, I hope you’ve been spending some time with your athame.”
“Yep,” I replied. “All those things. It’s exhausting work learning to be a great witch.”
“Don’t toy with me, Lucy. Untruthfulness doesn’t suit you.”
It was a good thing she couldn’t see me, because I held the phone away and made horrible faces at it. Then I put it back to my ear. “I really have been busy.” And that was the truth.
“Nevertheless, as you know, it’s a full moon tomorrow night.”
Oh yeah, because I spent all my spare time studying the moon cycles. I didn’t say anything.
“It’s the perfect night for your ceremony.”
“Yeah, about that…”
“You will prepare yourself. Spend the day as much as you can alone, with your athame. You should clear your mind so you’re prepared.”
I really didn’t like the sound of this. I bet that’s what they told the teenagers back when they used to sacrifice virgins.
“Come to the stones at half past eleven.”
“Why not midnight?”
She let out an irritated huff. And even on the phone, I could exactly picture her expression. The piercing blue eyes looking at me as though wondering how she ever got stuck with such an imbecile, tinged with even more irritation because she knew the imbecile had powers.
I didn’t really blame her. I had a lot of sympathy for Margaret Twigg. She resented my power. I’d be perfectly happy to pass these powers on to someone else. But it didn’t seem like it worked that way. I suppose we both had to work with what we had. Some of us more graciously than others.
“It will give you time to prepare and then the ceremony will take place at exactly midnight.”
“All right.”
“Do not be tardy. And for goddess’s sake, don’t forget your dagger.”
When I got off the phone, I discovered Hester and Carlos had stopped by. It wasn’t a social call. They were excited to be part of the investigating team.
I was glad someone was.
Rafe explained what Theodore and his private eye friend wanted me to do. His tone was not enthusiastic.
After they’d heard him out, Carlos said, “But we could do this.”
“Do what?” I asked. Was he planning to visit Rune Films with some story? Maybe he could pretend to be a Spanish filmmaker.
Even as I was weighing the idea, Hester jumped up and down. “Of course. Carlos and I will enter the building unseen. Security cameras don’t pick us up. We’ll go tonight.”
“And steal Bryce Teddington’s computer?” Assuming it was even still there. Maybe his replacement had it. Or, if there really was an embezzler, maybe that person had destroyed it.
She shook her head as though I was old and slow. Hester had a way of making me feel both. “We don’t need to take anything away. We’ll download all the files.”
Carlos said, “Exactly. No one will even know we were there.”
I thought this was a brilliant idea, not least because it didn’t involve me trying to steal a computer from a busy office. “We’ll go tonight,” Carlos said.
Fine by me. I gave them a layout of the offices as I remembered them. “I don’t know exactly where Bryce sat, though. Or if he even had his own office.”
Hester waved my words away as though they were smoke. “We’ll find it. You can count on us.”
I was so relieved, I offered to drive them, but Rafe said no, Theodore could do it. “This was his idea, after all.”
That organized, I was free to study my athame book and prepare for tomorrow’s ordeal. Uh, ceremony.
Chapter 20
I don’t care what anyone says, witch or no witch—it is creepy driving up to magical standing stones at eleven-thirty at night. Even though there was a full moon, the stones were located in the remains of an ancient forest, and the narrow roads that led up to the standing stones were treed on both sides, the foliage touching overhead like interlocking fingers. The silvery light that dappled through the branches and leaves didn’t seem all that welcoming. Still, I’d said I’d come, and I was on my way.
Nyx sat sentry in the passenger seat of my little, red car, and a silk bag containing my athame lay on the seat beside her.
I turned to my familiar. “I don’t know what we’re getting into. I hope you’ve been through one of these, because I sure never have. And I’m counting on you, Nyx, not to let her do something dreadful to me.”
Nyx stared at me with her green-gold eyes. She never spoke to me, although I had a sneaking suspicion she could have if she wanted to; she just didn’t want to freak me out too much. But I would get an impression. Thoughts in my head that weren’t my own. I assumed they came from her. At that moment while she stared at me, and then I turned back to look at the road before I ended up plowing into a tree, the words in my head were “Pure of heart, pure of mind, stay alert, these powers combined.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Margaret Twigg,” I said. But I thought I understood what Nyx was getting at. For me to fight against t
he inevitable was just a waste of my time and powers. Besides, if Margaret Twigg was right and she wasn’t just playing some sick game with me, there was a dark tide of magic headed our way, and I was going to need every bit of my power to help keep those I loved safe.
Of course, knowing Margaret Twigg, it could all have been an elaborate charade to make me practice my magic. I wouldn’t put anything past her. But, on the off chance that she was right, I’d be smart to pay attention in class.
Besides, I had spent some time with my athame today. And I’d really tried to clear my mind of clutter. In my reading, I’d learned that the athame focuses power and helps divide truth from lies. I could really use that power right now, not for any witchy business but to help get Sylvia’s jewels back. I was only too glad that, because it was a ceremonial dagger, the edges were not at all sharp, because I didn’t want to give Sylvia any ideas. It would be very obvious what had happened if she attacked me in the traditional way that vampires have gone after humans, but if I accidently fell on my own dagger? Who’d look at her? Well, Rafe would, obviously. But I didn’t want to give her any extra tools for my destruction. Just in case.
I pulled up and noted Violet’s car already in the tiny parking lot, along with an old Morris Minor in faded green. I wondered who was invited tonight but I hadn’t thought to ask.
I’d find out by getting out of the car, but I was in no hurry to do that. I checked the time, and it was only eleven twenty-seven. I had three minutes, and I was going to use every one of them. I pulled in a deep breath and let it out again. Maybe tonight would be all about magic and spells, but before I went near whatever was waiting for me, I said a spell for myself. A protection spell.
That done, I picked up the leather bag containing my dagger and opened the passenger door for Nyx. She jumped out and trotted beside me down the narrow, windy path that led to the standing stones.
I’d seen them before in moonlight, of course, because that’s when most of our rituals took place. But something about them tonight struck me as particularly unearthly. The stones looked silver-tipped and magical. Where once they’d probably stood proud and all about the same size and shape, now with time, weather, and the pilfering of stone by the locals before such practices were stopped, they looked like a ring of stumpy children or dwarves.
The head stone was still standing tall and fairly straight, and as I looked at it, I had the impression that it was like the blade of my dagger. Its edges might be dull, but as it lifted its face to the moonlight, I felt its power. As I walked closer, I could feel the magic pulling me towards it. Was it me? The dagger? The combination?
I was nearly breathless with some combination of fear and excitement and just pure wonder. I was so often afraid and confused by my magic that I rarely took the time to embrace its power. I knew that it could wield damage and destruction in the wrong hands, but when channeled correctly, it was amazing.
I stepped into the ring of the stones and stood there looking around. I was all by myself. I’d have thought it was some trick except I’d seen the cars, and there were candles placed around the circle ready to be lit.
I was pretty sure they’d come from the same shop as my athame.
My sister witches were around somewhere. Maybe I was meant to do this part by myself. I walked into the center and turned in a slow circle, not because anyone had told me to but because it felt right. And then I took my athame out of its leather pouch and then out of the silk one.
Nyx came up so close to me that her soft fur brushed my ankles, and then she sat staring up at me. I raised the dagger, and moonlight glittered off it and seemed to bounce from it to the head stone. I stood that way unmoving as though I were another of the standing stones, and then from my peripheral vision, I saw three cloaked figures coming towards me from the points of the compass.
While I stood there, almost as though I’d been planted there deliberately, my cousin Violet came from the west and my great-aunt Lavinia from the east.
I turned and glimpsed the face of the man who’d sold me the athame, Alphonse Young. He stood at the southern point.
There was no gossiping, no “There you are, Lucy.” They were stately and solemn as they walked closer and then paused. Finally, all our gazes turned to the head stone, and inevitably, Margaret Twigg came forward.
I was used to drama with Sylvia, but Margaret could do drama in a different but equally powerful way. She cast the circle, and as she did so, the candles sprang to life, their flames steady and strong, unaffected by the slight breeze.
She raised her arms, lifted her face to the moon.
Violet motioned for me to hold my athame out, so I did, letting the moon touch it.
The athame began to glow with a blue light.
Margaret began to speak.
North and Earth
Stable and strong
Strengthen this dagger
Let it cut right from wrong
She turned to Great-Aunt Lavinia, who chanted to the moon in her turn:
East and Air
Pure as the breeze
Lighten this dagger
Let her use it with ease
Now Lavinia turned to the man behind me. I’d pretty much caught up with what we were doing, plus I had read the “How to Use Your Athame” book. The rhyme was simple, but I’d always found the most powerful spells to be the simplest. His voice was strong.
South and Fire
I call upon your heat
Temper this dagger
So it may mete
My cousin Violet had the final verse.
West and Water
I draw upon the spring
Cleanse this dagger
Within our sacred ring
But, of course, it was Margaret who got the last word:
Earth, Air, Fire, Water
I call on you elements four
To consecrate this dagger
Now and forevermore.
So I will, so mote it be
I didn’t always enjoy spending time with Margaret Twigg, but there was no denying her power, and when the four of us got together, it was pretty impressive. I could feel the dagger vibrating in my hand, and as she ended the spell, the dagger shot blue fire like a mini-fireworks display.
Fully charged, then.
Everyone gathered around me and we all watched the dagger still glowing. The old man from the shop looked at me and his eyes looked even more strange in the moonlight. “I knew when I forged that dagger that it was for someone special.”
“You made this?” I asked him.
“I did. I rarely make them anymore but I came upon the fallen branch of an ancient yew tree and felt its power. From that I carved the handle.”
That fit my hand as though he’d carved it exactly for me.
“The steel of the blade I forged from a dagger once owned by a good and powerful witch.”
“It’s second hand?” I was teasing, trying to lighten the heavy mood.
“It was your grandmother’s,” Aunt Lavinia said.
My whole body broke out in goosebumps. “No wonder the blade jumped into my hand,” I said. Then I glanced from Margaret to Alphonse Young. “Wait, was that some kind of test? Putting that dagger in amongst all the others to see if I’d choose it?”
The old man shook his head. His black robes shifted like shadows. “You chose each other. I couldn’t know that athame was meant for you. It could have been destined for a different witch.”
“But it wasn’t.” I held my dagger up and it was ten times more valuable now I knew its blade had once been part of my grandmother’s athame. Sylvia’s Cartier jewels might fetch millions at auction, but this dagger was worth a lot more to me. However, Sylvia would not see it that way.
I looked at Margaret. “Do you think I can use this to help me find some very important missing jewels?”
Even in the moonlight, I could see the look of disdain on her face. “It’s not a metal detector, Lucy. It’s not like you can go around Brighton
Beach and find old pennies and lager cans.”
“I know that.” In case she hadn’t read about the theft in the local paper, I filled her in. “If the athame can bring focus and cut truth from lies, surely I can use it to help Sylvia find her missing jewelry.”
Alphonse Young said, “Be very careful. Even though the blades are deliberately dulled, you don’t want to be waving a dagger around. People tend to get the wrong idea.”
Good point. I promised I’d keep it safely hidden if I was in public, but I could feel that my athame was going to be an important part of my witch’s paraphernalia.
“Please, help me find Sylvia’s jewels,” I asked it as we drove back to Harrington Street. The dagger didn’t so much as glow.
Nyx looked at me with pity.
Chapter 21
I’d hoped that Hester and Carlos’s midnight snooping would mean I no longer had to go to Man Drake and confront the elusive producer, Simon Dent, but like so many of my dreams, this turned out to be of the pipe variety.
They returned triumphant, having not only discovered Bryce Teddington’s computer but having sucked all the files out of it. However, after having the files a full day, Penelope Grainger said she could find no sign of embezzlement.
“Great,” I said to Theodore, who relayed the news. “What about the jewels?”
“Obviously, she didn’t lead us in the right direction but, as I always say, once you close off a path, it means you’re closer to the true one.”
“What about the film production budget?”
He looked sad, like someone had taken his security blanket. “She discovered why Bryce Teddington had concerns about the production. The budget looked perfectly normal on the surface, but hardly any of the money had been committed. He was right to be concerned that an expensive gala was going ahead before there was a director, screenwriter, female lead or any of the key contract services engaged.”
