by T J Green
Niel was silent, so Avery answered for him. “You’re right there, but I’m not sure Niel wants to share.” She turned to him. “You called her the Carrion Crow earlier, so did Gabe. Why do you call her that?”
“She reeks of death, feeds on death, and rejoices in it.” He pointed across the grove to a bundle of feathers on the ground. “Every day for the last few days she kills a small creature, mostly birds, but it could be other woodland creatures. And always there.”
Avery stepped a little closer, trying not to gag as the smell of decay grew stronger. Small animal bones and the rotting bodies of birds lay in a pile next to a cairn of stones covered in blood. The Carrion Crow. The Crone. She frowned. The Crone was an aspect of the Goddess, associated with age and death, but not necessarily cruelty. But there were other aspects of her nature, such as Hecate the Goddess of Death. Was that what she could sense, what the Nephilim could sense?
Avery retreated from the bundle of death and turned back to Niel. “The Mermaids’ call did not affect you, their Siren call. Why can you feel this?”
“We heard their call, but we could resist it, as we can resist this. Our uniqueness gives us added strength, but we are not impervious. I feel it well enough. The darkness invades my dreams. Have you seen enough?”
As he spoke, wind ripped through the trees, setting the branches rattling and the witch marks spinning, and the scent of decay intensified. “Yes.” She turned and all three ran as if the Devil was at their heels.
***
Avery drove back to Reuben’s place, and Piper and Hunter followed.
The snug next to the kitchen was warm and bathed in weak autumnal sun that struggled to get through the clouds, but Avery could still feel the sullied air of the grove clinging to her like a second skin. Only El was there, tucked into an armchair in front of the fire, and she looked up as they came in.
“What happened to you?”
“Why?” Avery asked. “Do we look odd?”
“You look haunted. What happened?” She uncurled and put her book down.
Avery sank on to the sofa, her legs suddenly weak. “The grove feels horrible. You’re right about that spell. It spills out terror and dread.”
Piper sat on the floor next to the fire, looking ashamed. “I couldn’t even go in. I wanted to scream.”
“There’s no shame in that,” Hunter said, looking at his sister fondly. “That’s exactly what the spell is meant to do.”
“But you managed to cope with it,” Piper protested.
“Not for long,” Avery said. “I had to cast a protection spell once we got close to the yew. It was the only thing that stopped us from running.”
El leaned forward. “Is it just a spell, or is something else going on there?”
“Oh, there’s plenty going on.” Hunter ran his hands through his hair. “The stench of blood and decay was overwhelming, and with my sense of smell, I’m used to being more sensitive. But that was something else.”
“She’s making blood sacrifices now, daily. Killing small animals and birds.” Avery shook her head. “I went in there trying to work out what spell she might be using, or just to try to detect what’s happening, but the feeling of terror was so overwhelming it just drowned everything out—even with my spell as a buffer.”
“Damn it!” El exclaimed, leaping to her feet and joining Hunter’s pace around the room. “Who is she?”
“Gabe and Niel call her the Carrion Crow. She even scares them.”
“That’s not a good sign,” El grumbled.
“You know, I think I’m wrong,” Avery said thoughtfully. “I was worried Helena was doing this, but she isn’t. I just know it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s someone who knew the town well in the past. Have you found out anything?”
“Well, we’ve scoured our family trees and histories, but nothing particularly odd stands out. We considered Rueben’s mad uncle, Addison, but he doesn’t fit for many reasons, particularly because he’s a man. But we thought maybe a descendant?” She shrugged and sighed. “Anyway, we realised the only family history we didn’t have here was yours, so Reuben and Alex have gone to fetch them from your flat.”
“It took two of them?” Avery asked.
“Research isn’t Reuben’s strong point,” El said, grinning. “I think he needed a break. And they needed more beer.”
At that moment, the front door slammed and their voices arrived ahead of them. Alex headed into the snug carrying a huge box, while Reuben stayed in the kitchen, yelling, “Who wants a beer?”
“Me!” a chorus of voices called back.
Alex took one look at Avery and his face fell. “What’s wrong?”
“So many things,” she said, groaning. “But I’m fine. I’ll tell you both over a beer.”
She headed to his side and helped him unpack Anne’s files, placing them on the floor within easy reach of the sofa and chairs. As soon as Reuben came in with the beers and they were all settled, she filled them in on what had happened at the grove.
Reuben frowned. “This is all sounding very bad. The Crone and the Carrion Crow?”
“I keep coming back to the Wild Hunt,” Avery said. “It just got stuck in my head, and I can’t shake it.”
“It’s just a myth, surely,” Hunter said. He’d finally sat down next to his sister on the rug in front of the fire, and he sipped his beer, listening carefully.
“So were Mermaids, until they attacked White Haven,” Alex pointed out.
Piper looked shocked. “And I thought our life was weird.”
“Stick around White Haven some more and you’ll realise what weird is,” Reuben said dryly. “What did your super noses pick up?”
“Blood, death, and decay. Always a winning combination,” Hunter said.
“Pass me one of your books on myths,” Piper said suddenly. “I’ll look up the Wild Hunt.”
“And I’ll start searching my history, again,” Avery said, settling back on the sofa with Anne’s research.
For the next hour, the room was relatively quiet as they poured over papers and books, even Hunter helping as he looked at some of the maps of White Haven and histories of Ley Lines. She could hear him, Reuben, and Alex discussing where the lines fell across Old Haven, but she tried to block them out as she studied the tiny writing spread across several pages of her family tree. Although Anne had concentrated on Avery’s main line from a couple of generations before Helena, there were lots of names to study.
And then she saw it, buried deep on a line in the centre of one big roll of paper. A name with no date of death—just like Addison Jackson. The name was Suzanna Grayling, and she was descended from Ava, Helena’s older daughter.
Avery’s pulse raced as she scanned the names above and below, but Suzanna was the only one not to have a date of death. Why couldn’t Anne find it? Was she their mysterious time-walker? She looked up at the others. “I’ve found something. Suzanna Grayling, one of my ancestors, has no date of death.”
El’s mouth fell open in shock. “Wow. When was she born? I mean, age-wise would it fit?”
“She was born in 1780, and she married a David Grayling when she was…” Avery quickly did the maths. “Nineteen years old.”
“Does it say anything about her?” Alex asked.
Avery fumbled for the book of notes Anne had made. “I don’t know. Anne sometimes commented on certain people and anomalies, but often they were nothing much, just odd snippets she’d found out about what they did and where they lived.” She shook her head. “Her research was phenomenal. Give me a few minutes and I’ll let you know.”
Anne’s notebooks were carefully numbered and annotated, and Avery briefly wondered if she’d spent so much time on the other witches’ history. She presumed Helena’s special status as the only one to be burned at the stake made her more interesting, in a gruesome way.
It was another ten minutes before she found what she was looking for, and she lifted her head to tell the others. “Suzanna Grayling was
the first of Helena’s descendants to return to White Haven.”
“No way!” El said, wide-eyed. “That has to be significant!”
“Who’s Helena?” Piper asked. “You keep mentioning her.”
Awkward. “She’s my ancestor who was burned at the stake, and now haunts my flat as a ghost.”
“Right.” Piper nodded with a grim smile.
Alex asked, “What else does it say?”
“The man she married, David, bought the house that I now live in…” She checked the document. “In 1801. Two years after they got married. Well, he bought the middle house. The others were bought later.”
Alex smiled. “So after two hundred years, your family returned to White Haven. That’s amazing.”
“Do any of you know when your ancestors returned here?” Avery asked thoughtfully.
“Well, mine never left,” Reuben said, gesturing around him at the house.
El nodded. “True. Is there anything in your notes, Avery, that says anything about our families?”
“Not that I noticed, but then again, I haven’t really looked for that.”
“What was the date for your new grimoire?” Alex asked.
It wasn’t a new grimoire, but Avery knew what he meant. It was the grimoire that wasn’t Helena’s. She hesitated for a second as she scrabbled to find her grimoire under the documents. “1795.”
“And who is the first name in your new grimoire?”
Her gaze met his. “Suzanna Grayling.”
“So, she was fifteen years old when she decided to assert her witch roots. That’s pretty young. Who’s the next name?”
“Ava Helen Grayling.” She looked at the others in shock. “Her daughter, who she named after Helena’s oldest child and Helena herself!”
Piper had watched their conversation with interest. “She was a woman on a mission. She obviously knew her own history very well. ”
El agreed. “Your family might not have been living here, but they certainly passed down their heritage. And Suzanna was keen to practice the craft again. She started the book before she moved here with her husband.”
Alex sat next to Avery and pulled Anne’s notebook from her hands. “Didn’t Helena say that Ava was already strong as a child, and that’s why Octavia wanted her?”
Avery narrowed her eyes as she looked for the original grimoire, and quickly thumbed to the back where the note had been written next to the binding spell. She read, “Ava already shows signs of power well before one would expect it.”
“So,” Alex said softly, “it would be reasonable to assume that Ava’s strong abilities passed down to her descendants, and that Suzanna had been honing her magic for some time. Maybe she even pushed her husband into coming here.”
“It must have been a wonderful feeling to have finally come home,” Avery mused. “Maybe though, once she was back, she got annoyed and wanted to make White Haven pay for Helena’s burning all those years ago. I mean, it wasn’t really the town’s fault, but I guess they didn’t stop it.”
“They couldn’t,” El pointed out. “Our families fled, too, except for Reuben’s, and they were rich and influential enough to stay.”
Reuben winced. “Sorry.”
El held up her hands. “Wait a minute. If it’s her—Suzanna—why is she here now? After all this time?”
Alex sighed. “Because she’s casting the mother of all spells, and to do that you need a lot of magical energy, and guess what’s floating over White Haven right now?”
“And she’s using it, too,” Avery said, realising that she hadn’t told them what she’d sensed. “She’s drawing on it right now. When we released the binding spell she must have known. But why the delay?”
“A spell this big needs preparation,” Alex said thoughtfully. “It seems that she’s drawing on the power of the Crone and is trying to open a portal to, what?” he hesitated. “The Underworld? The world of the Fey? To allow the Wild Hunt into this reality, to kill, seek vengeance, and generally cause chaos? She’s using our own magic against us!”
“It’s her magic, too,” Reuben pointed out.
Avery rubbed her hands over her face. “Wow. Are we really suggesting that for over two hundred years she has bided her time in order to seek revenge on White Haven?”
“It seems so,” El mused.
Alex said, “So, she knows the power of the White Haven witches has been released, and she has to use it as effectively as possible. She waits for the best possible time for her plan—Samhain. And chooses the most affective spot to centre her magic—the Grove. And within two weeks of Samhain, she starts her spell.”
Hunter looked at them as if they were mad. “So she makes herself a time-walker, biding her time for revenge, and lucky us, now’s the time!”
“And then uses her spare time to target others she considers responsible for Helena’s death,” Avery said. “Maybe that’s why she targeted you, El. Not for trying to stop her spell, but for your family’s perceived betrayal of hers.”
“And maybe that’s why she didn’t want to see you at Alex’s flat, Avery,” El said. “She must know who you are.”
“It didn’t stop her from trying to kill me though, once she knew I was there,” Avery pointed out. “I’m not entirely sure she’s rational.”
“You were in her way,” Hunter said. “At that point, her loyalty to you went out the window.”
“Rational or not,” Reuben said, “she’s powerful, and is prepared to kill to get what she wants. So, let’s be logical. We think she killed the tramp to start the spell—the timeframe fits—and she’s planning a final human sacrifice to seal the deal—Stan or his niece. How do we stop her?”
Avery became excited. “I’ve got her blood. I can make a poppet.”
“Awesome,” El said. “But we need more. We need the Council.”
23
Avery walked across Reuben’s wide patio enjoying the afternoon sunshine, which had finally triumphed over the clouds, her phoned pressed to her ear.
The sunshine couldn’t really be called warm, but it was a bright spot in what was proving to be a dark day. They had talked for a while about whether to involve the other twelve covens of Cornwall. Avery wasn’t sure it was worth asking after Genevieve had declined to help with the Mermaids, but Reuben had argued that Suzanna was a much bigger threat to everyone, and she had to try. And he was right.
Genevieve answered the call, her voice bright but abrupt. “Avery, I hope you’re not ringing to cancel Samhain.”
“Actually, no,” Avery said, biting down the urge to tell her to get stuffed. “We have a problem, a big problem, and need your help. We would like to offer Reuben’s house as a meeting place for the Samhain celebrations. It’s large and private, and everyone could comfortably fit in.”
“Why on Earth would we want to change from Rasmus’s house?’
“Because we need your help to stop the Wild Hunt from ravaging Cornwall.”
There was silence for a moment. “The what?”
“The Wild Hunt, which although mythical, does have roots in reality—” she broke off as Genevieve interrupted.
“I know what the bloody Wild Hunt is! Why would it be released on us?”
“We have a rogue witch, who I believe to be a time-walker and one of my ancestors, who is seeking vengeance for Helena’s death. We think.” Avery went on to explain what was happening, and by the time she’d finishing, Genevieve was spitting.
“You should have told me sooner. This is huge! It has repercussions for all of us.”
Avery took a deep breath, reminding herself that they needed the others. “I know, but we didn’t fully understand what was happening until today. And quite frankly, Genevieve, you haven’t really given much of a crap about our predicaments before.”
As usual, the angrier she became, the more the wind was whipping about Avery, and she funnelled it away into the garden, watching it pick up leaves in a whirlwind and carry them across the lawn.
Genevieve’s tone was icy. “Well, unlike last time, this situation will affect all of us. The Wild Hunt is deadly and vicious, and once released will be uncontrollable.”
“Which is why I’m calling you. We know where it’s going to happen. We need to stop the breach between worlds. And if not, we need to form a protective ring around the grove to contain it. And then we have to send it back.”
“Can’t you seal off your escaped magic?”
“No! You know we can’t, or we would have. And besides, she’s already using it. But that doesn’t mean we can’t use it, too.”
“And you couldn’t feel her using it?” She sounded annoyed. “Don’t you have a connection to it?”
“Not 24 hours a day! It’s not like a battery we’re plugged into! When it was released it flooded into us, but then it was as if our bodies had enough and just—” She struggled to find the right word, “Disconnected! I can’t explain it better than that.”
Genevieve fell silent for a moment, and Avery could feel her anger crackling down the phone. “I can’t come tonight, but I will come tomorrow. And if it’s as bad as you say, then yes, I will convene the coven.”
She rang off and Avery headed back inside, smiling triumphantly.
“Good news, then?” Alex asked, watching her.
“You could say that. Genevieve’s coming to assess the situation, but I know she’ll say yes.”
“Wow,” Reuben said, grinning. “Go Avery. And I get to host the coven. Lucky me.”
El came in from the kitchen with bowls of chips and dips. “We need to tell Newton, too.”
“Someone else’s job,” Avery said immediately. “I do not want two people moaning at me today.”
Alex rose to his feet. “Fancy another trip, Reuben?”
“Why?”
“We need to ward Stan’s house and protect him and Becky. Something to stop Suzanna using either of them as a sacrifice.”
“A glamour?” Reuben suggested. “Make them leave for a few days?”
“Brilliant!” Alex looked at him in admiration. “Let’s go.”
“Can I come?” Hunter asked. “I’d like to pick up her scent again.”
