by Helen Harper
‘I’d watch your words,’ I heard Winter say suddenly from the door. I closed my eyes in relief. Thank goodness – though I still couldn’t breathe. ‘Ivy’s not weak. She is, however, remarkably reckless.’
And then all hell broke loose. Weathers leapt towards Winter and prepared to throw out a rune while Rebecca scrabbled for more herbs. I spluttered, able to make out little more than blurry shapes. My head was pounding and I was feeling distinctly nauseous. Something flew across the room but it was only when it smashed into the wall on the other side and fell down with a grunt that I realised it was Weathers. Winter sidestepped Rebecca’s batch of flying herbs and muttered his own incantation under his breath. At the same time he took out his own herbs and threw them at her.
Bethany let out a battle cry and launched herself at him. There was a pained shriek as he drew a rune and she dropped to the floor in mid-flight. I collapsed sideways. Good for Winter, a little voice said in my head.
‘You’re an idiot.’
I forced my eyes open. I could just make out Winter’s features. He hissed in irritation and reached into his pocket, taking out a small bag of herbs. He put the tiniest pinch under my nose and I gasped.
‘I can breathe.’ I started to cough. ‘Oh, thank goodness.’ I blinked rapidly and looked round the room. Weathers was still in the far corner, groaning loudly. Bethany and Rebecca were completely prone. I stared. ‘Did you bring down three witches?’ I asked, my voice thready and weak.
Winter sighed. ‘Yes.’
‘In about three seconds?’
‘There might be three of them, Ivy, but they’re only First Level. Knowing one or two Second Level spells doesn’t make you Second Level. They’re not as good as they think they are.’
Apparently, neither was I. I grabbed Winter’s hand and struggled to my feet. ‘You really are that good, though.’
‘Yeah,’ he said simply and without a trace of ego. ‘I really am.’
I considered this. There was something to be said for Order training after all. I pursed my lips. ‘Thanks,’ I muttered.
‘No problem.’ Winter hesitated. ‘Thanks for getting these three to confess.’
I felt suddenly abashed. ‘I guess we make a pretty good team.’ I flicked a look at Weathers. ‘You could have been part of that!’ I called. ‘There will be no Wilde Wintry Weathers now!’
Winter rolled his eyes. ‘Next time, don’t burst in through the door like that. At least not without discussing it with me first. You repeatedly prove that you have no regard for your own safety. You could have been seriously hurt.’
‘I was seriously hurt! I’m going to require several weeks of convalescence. I almost died! Again! What took you so long anyway?’
‘I was hiding in a cupboard and the vacuum cleaner got in my way.’ He inclined his head towards mine. ‘Don’t tell anyone.’
I smirked. ‘My lips are sealed. Honest. I wouldn’t tell anyone that the big bad Adeptus Exemptus Raphael Winter almost got his partner killed and missed a fight because a household appliance got in his way.’
‘Ivy…’
I grinned. ‘What?’
Chapter Twenty-Five
I got out of the car feeling more knackered than I’d ever felt in my life. Even my bones were weary. It had been a long time since I’d returned home when the sun was shining. All the same, there was an odd buzz of euphoria running through my veins. We’d solved the crimes, Winter and me. I was starting to see why he liked his work so much. Only starting, mind; I wasn’t a total convert. But if the Order brought in a three-day working week, I might be persuaded…
Winter climbed out from the other side of the car and we shared a glance of satisfaction. With his normally pristine clothes messed up, and with his top button undone and his tie askew, he looked rather adorable. I glanced down, taking in the state I was in. Well, at least one of us looked good.
‘Out of curiosity,’ he murmured, ‘what did you wish for? With the eyelash?’
‘A lie-in tomorrow,’ I chirped.
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘Nope.’
Winter sighed dramatically but I swear I spotted the ghost of a smile on his lips. As if to cover it, he knelt down and started tying his shoelace. From the other side of the road, there was the sound of a car door closing and a familiar voice.
‘Ivy! I’m so glad I caught you!’ Iqbal darted across, his face split into a wide grin.
I gave him a quick hug. ‘Hey! Good to see you. What are doing here?’
His smile stretched even further. ‘You’re gonna love me,’ he promised.
I bopped him on the arm. ‘I already do, Iqqy pop.’
Iqbal took my hand and began to murmur. A strange itching sensation rose up my arm, then it turned to burning. Suddenly alarmed, I tried to yank my hand away. My heart began thumping against my chest and I could feel sweat breaking out across my brow. I stared at Iqbal in horror but he continued to smile, although his teeth were gritted at the same time as if he were concentrating very hard.
‘What the…’ I heard Winter exclaim from the other side of the car. He staggered upwards just as Iqbal finally released me.
The pain vanished almost immediately. Iqbal swept out a proud bow. ‘You’re welcome!’ he beamed.
‘The binding,’ I said slowly.
He nodded vigorously and opened his palm to reveal what I knew was ossombe root. There was only a tiny quantity but it had been enough. The invisible magic thread that bound me to Winter was most definitely gone. I didn’t need to test it to be sure, I just knew.
‘After your phone call yesterday,’ Iqbal chirruped happily, ‘I knew things were getting desperate. I asked around and found an old professor of mine who happened to have some ossombe root lying around in his study. He agreed to give it to me if I gave him an outline of my thesis by the end of the month.’ A faint furrow creased his forehead. ‘So you really owe me now, Ivy. I deserve at least one ballad.’
My mouth was dry. I swallowed several times and looked helplessly at Winter. His face was an implacable mask. ‘We’re free,’ I whispered.
Winter pulled back his shoulders. ‘It would appear so.’
Iqbal gave him a nervous glance. ‘Hi, Adeptus Exemptus Winter. I didn’t see you there until it was too late. I hope you don’t mind that I took off the binding but I knew that Ivy was getting desperate.’
Winter didn’t look at him; his eyes were trained on me. All I could do was shrug awkwardly. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Desperate.’ Darn it.
A curious expression crossed Iqbal’s face as he realised that I wasn’t jigging around as ecstatically as I should be. He lifted his shoulders and gave me a funny look then, putting my lack of joy down to Winter’s brooding presence, he clapped me on the shoulders. ‘The Cauldron,’ he said. ‘Seven o’clock tonight. You can come too, Adeptus,’ he called across to Winter. ‘You’ve not lived until you’ve heard Ivy sing. I need to head off and start that outline but I expect you to be on time.’ He waggled his fingers. ‘You both owe me big time.’
My shoulders dropped. Arse.
With Winter by my side, I climbed the stairs up to my floor. I didn’t even call for the lift; it just seemed like too much effort. Winter didn’t say a word and neither did I. For once, I didn’t know what to say.
Near the top, footsteps tripped up behind us. Thinking it was Iqbal again, I turned. My heart sank. Eve. Any euphoria I’d felt five minutes ago was now well and truly gone.
‘Ivy!’ Genuine delight crossed her face. ‘It’s so good to see you! Honestly, you wouldn’t believe all that’s happened to me. In fact…’ Her voice faltered as she realised who was standing beside me. ‘Adeptus Exemptus Winter. What are you doing here?’
Winter coughed and looked at me. I scratched my neck. ‘Maybe we should go to my flat,’ I suggested. ‘You can make me a cup of tea and we can talk about it.’
***
‘I’m being promoted to Second Level?’ Eve’s eyes were saucer-wide and shini
ng.
I fidgeted. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry. The binding has been removed now so maybe you’ll still get to work with Winter. I should have told you before but it didn’t seem right to do it over the phone.’
Eve barely heard me. ‘Second Level? I hoped, you know I hoped, but I thought I’d have to do the exams first. My parents will be thrilled! I’m thrilled! And Arcane Branch?’ She glanced at Winter. ‘Do you think I’ll still have a chance of getting a spot?’
‘A position has just opened up,’ Winter said stiffly, not looking at me.
Eve jumped to her feet. ‘This is just amazing,’ she said, still shaking her head in disbelief. ‘I have to go and tell Harold Fitzwilliam Duxworthy the Third.’ She darted out of the room.
I twisted my fingers in my lap. ‘That went better than I expected,’ I said.
Winter murmured non-committally.
I took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t know Iqbal was going to do that,’ I said in a rush. ‘I didn’t ask him to. Well, not really. In fact, I found some ossombe root a few days ago and stuffed it in my bathroom cabinet. The binding wasn’t all that bad.’
Winter didn’t say anything. Bloody hell, this was hard work.
There was a sudden thump from the bedroom. Relieved to have a distraction, I opened the door to investigate. My secret stash of catnip had been attacked and there was a trail leading from the smashed jar on the floor all the way to the bed. Both Brutus and Princess Parma Periwinkle were rolling around on the duvet with expressions of feline glee. Winter peered over my shoulder and grunted with disapproval.
‘Ivy?’
From beyond the living room, Eve reappeared with her arms by her sides and a confused expression on her face. ‘Why are there are two people tied up in the middle of my living-room floor?’
Epilogue
He stood outside, hands shoved in his pockets and a flat, grim line across his mouth. The pub was well lit and busy. Every time the door opened to welcome a new patron, the sound of appalling music drifted out. He half turned to leave. This was a pointless venture; the sensible thing would be to go home right now. There were reports to write and he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he had another time-consuming assignment to occupy both his days and nights. Besides, she didn’t want him there.
The door opened again and a group of friends fell out, giggling and stumbling towards him. From inside, the music faded away to a burbling voice. ‘Our next victim is the fabulous Ivy Wilde who…’ The door banged shut, muffling the words.
Winter sighed. Then his feet swerved round the happy group and into the pub’s interior almost of their own volition.
Ivy’s friend, if that’s what he was, was pushing her up onto the small stage. She was laughing, her blonde curls bouncing and catching the light, but he could see the reluctance in her eyes even from this distance. She turned in his direction, her chin angling upwards and he hastily veered left towards the bar and caught the eye of the barman.
By the time he had a whisky in hand, Ivy was already onto the second verse. Her cheeks were rosy pink and there was a tremor to the fingers that were clutching the microphone. She wasn’t a particularly bad singer but her lack of enthusiasm made her painful to watch. He wished that she wouldn’t sway her hips like that. The movement only served to accentuate her curves and, despite the quality of the whisky, his mouth felt uncomfortably dry.
Regardless of her reluctance, the crowd seemed to appreciate her efforts. They were certainly whooping and cheering loudly enough. The more they yelled, the more confident Ivy grew with both her singing and her dancing, to the point where she replaced the microphone back on its stand and abandoned her sultry swaying for more energetic movements. What no one seemed to have noticed was that she also seemed to be inching closer and closer to the edge of the stage. It wasn’t a long drop – probably less than a metre – but she’d no doubt had one or two drinks already and she could fall and hurt herself. That was what he told himself when he pushed his way through the crowd to get closer to her.
‘Oi!’ A fat man holding the dregs of a pint of beer glared at him. Winter glanced in the man’s direction, which was enough to make him immediately subside. Winter nodded, satisfied.
He’d just reached the front of the stage when Ivy whipped round with alarming speed, as if attempting a pirouette. Her sparkling eyes fixed on him and widened. Unfortunately, her surprise was also her undoing: her feet kept moving but her body didn’t follow and, almost in slow motion, she began to topple forward. Winter didn’t pause. He braced himself, held out his arms and caught her as she fell.
‘Oooomph!’ Ivy coiled her arms round his neck and beamed up at him. She smelled of honey and sunshine and just the tiniest smidge of ancient magic. He breathed in deeply. ‘My hero!’ she burbled.
Winter stared down at her, his expression inscrutable. ‘Are you trying to maim yourself?’ he inquired.
Her smile widened. ‘I know, right? This is why I hate doing karaoke. It’s far too energetic.’
‘Ivy! Are you alright?’ Her dark-haired friend appeared, concern on his face.
Ivy extricated herself from Winter. ‘Apart from the horror of that song, Iqbal, I’m good.’ She reached up and patted Winter’s chest. ‘My partner saved me.’
Winter’s jaw clenched. ‘We’re not partners any more.’
For a moment a shadow crossed Ivy’s face then she brightened again. ‘You should count yourself lucky,’ she grinned. ‘I’m far too much like hard work.’
It was on the tip of Winter’s tongue to tell her that she should know by now that he liked hard work. But someone else was bearing down on them, throwing shot glasses in their direction.
‘Tequila!’ Ivy smacked her lips. ‘I really shouldn’t.’ She took one anyway and downed it.
Iqbal grabbed another glass and thrust it at Winter. ‘Adeptus Exemptus, I think you deserve one for that catch.’
Under any other circumstances Winter would have refused but he knew that was what Iqbal was expected, so he took the glass and tipped it back, wincing slightly as the fiery liquid burned down his throat.
‘Good man!’ Iqbal clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Let’s get another round!’ He headed off to the bar.
‘Come on.’ Ivy tugged Winter’s elbow. ‘We’ve got a table in the corner.’
He allowed himself to be led through the crowd. Ivy plonked herself down on one of the chairs with a happy sigh. Winter debated for a moment then joined her. ‘Who’s your friend?’ he asked, his tone harsher than he’d intended. ‘You didn’t introduce us earlier when he gave you the ossombe root.’
‘Huh?’ Ivy looked blank for a moment then realised who he was talking about. ‘Oh, you mean Iqbal. We go way back.’ She waved her hands around. ‘He’s a good guy. He just likes karaoke too much.’ Her eyes fixed on him. ‘What’s going on back at the Order?’
‘Do you really want to know?’
She pursed her lips. ‘I risked life and limb, Winter. I think I deserve to know.’
‘Rafe,’ he found himself saying. ‘You should call me Rafe.’
A softer smile curved round Ivy’s mouth but before she could say anything Iqbal reappeared with another tray of shots. He placed it on the table. ‘I got a selection!’ he yelled over the music. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d all like.’
Ivy beamed her approval and chose a glass at random. Winter watched as she took a delicate sniff then shrugged. ‘Bottoms up.’
Winter picked up one of the little glasses without looking at it. He kept his eyes on Ivy, clinking his glass against hers before he drank.
Iqbal cleared his throat. ‘So, Adeptus,’ he said. ‘What’s going on back at the Order now that the truth has been revealed?’
‘I just asked that!’ Ivy said. ‘Tell us!’
Winter shrugged. The news would be in the morning papers so there wasn’t any point in staying quiet. ‘The Ipsissimus is putting in an immediate review of all promotional procedures. Everyone who’s achieved a position beyond First
Level is going to be scrutinised. It’ll take months but it’ll be worth it.’
‘What about Bell End and Alice?’ Ivy asked. A curl had fallen across her forehead and Winter itched to brush it away. He put his hands under table instead.
‘Who?’
‘Uh, Bellham. Matthew Bellham and Alice Fairclough. What’s happened to them?’
‘They’ve been released but they’re on probation.’ Ivy scowled. ‘They were acting under orders.’
She snorted indelicately. ‘That’s no defence.’ Privately, Winter agreed.
Ivy got clumsily up to her feet. Winter automatically stood too but she merely gave him a confused look. ‘I’m off to the ladies’ room,’ she declared. ‘I need a pee. Are you coming too?’
‘I was being a gentleman,’ he muttered. She didn’t hear him – she was already bustling through the crowd.
Winter sat down and picked up another glass without thinking. Iqbal smiled. ‘To the Order!’
‘To the Order.’ Winter gulped it down. He glanced behind him; there was no longer any sign of Ivy.
Iqbal leant across the table. ‘What are your intentions?’
Winter blinked back at him. ‘Excuse me?’
‘With Ivy,’ Iqbal said, a sudden sharp focus in his dark eyes. ‘She likes you a lot, you know, but she’s more vulnerable than she lets on.’
Winter’s skin was beginning to itch. ‘I like her too. She’s an extraordinarily talented witch. It’s a real shame she’s not in the Order.’
Iqbal watched him. ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
Winter looked at him. Ivy hadn’t answered his question properly before. ‘Are you and her…’ he began.
‘No. But she’s a good friend.’ Iqbal turned as someone shouted his name from the other side of the room. ‘I should go. It was nice to meet you again, Adeptus Exemptus Winter. Be nice to Ivy.’ He walked off, just as the woman in question returned. Winter saw him lean his head down towards her ear and murmur something. Ivy’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink and Winter frowned.
