All Hallows' Magic

by T J Green

  “Sure. Road trip! More the merrier.”

  “Stay here, Piper,” Hunter said. “We’ll head home once I’m done.”

  She nodded, watching them silently as they strode out the door, full of energy and intent.

  In the silence of their departure, El said, “He’s pretty bossy, isn’t he?”

  Piper met her gaze. “And then some. He’s a natural Alpha, which has its pros, but also cons.” She stood up and stretched her legs. “I need to run. Okay if I change here?”

  “Be my guest. I’m going back to the spell books, and then I’ll cook something, enough for everyone.” El patted her non-existent stomach and reached for the crisps. “I’m starving. I only had nibbles for lunch.”

  “And I’m going to go make my poppet,” Avery said. “Well, Suzanna’s actually.”

  “There’s a sewing room somewhere upstairs,” El said, gesturing vaguely. “There’ll be plenty of material there, and the herbs are in the attic.”

  “Laters then,” Avery said, and she grabbed her grimoire and swiped some crisps from the bowl before heading for the stairs.

  ***

  After hunting around for a while, which included getting lost in Reuben’s vast house, Avery eventually found some material and chose a small square of plain cotton cloth. She’d never made a poppet before, and didn’t relish doing one now.

  A poppet was a small doll made to resemble the person you wished to cast a spell on. It could be made from cloth, clay, or wax, but using cloth allowed her to fill it with herbs and the tissue with the blood on it, which she’d carefully stored in a small wooden box. Magic should not be about controlling someone’s actions, but in this case they had no choice. In order for it to be effective you needed something of the person, like hair, or nail clippings, or blood—so even the tiny drop of blood should make the spell work. There was no way they could get anything else from her.

  Avery cut two pieces of fabric out in the shape of a gingerbread man and started to stitch it together, and then added rudimentary eyes, a nose, and mouth. She fashioned some clothes to put on it, to make it look female, and used wool to make long hair. The actions were soothing and contemplative and she focused on Suzanna, envisioning her clearly: her body, her hair, and her face.

  When the doll was nearly complete, she took it upstairs into Reuben’s attic workshop. Although he lived here alone now—except for El visiting—he still kept most of his magical gear there. She lit candles and incense and then once she’d found the herbs she needed, she mixed them together in a bowl, pounding them down just slightly. Satisfied, she stuffed the doll with the herbs, placing the blood-stained tissue in the centre, then completed the stitching, sealing the ends completely.

  Now what? Should she work a spell now, or would that be too soon? Should she try to bind her and weaken her magic, injure her, mute her? Whatever she chose, it had to be effective. If she used it too soon and Suzanna was able to resist it, it would be a valuable resource lost.

  Avery closed her eyes, hoping for inspiration. Was this woman really Suzanna? It seemed insane.

  The warmth of Reuben’s attic wrapped around her, folding her within its space that had seen so much magic worked over the years. She inhaled the soothing incense, relaxing her shoulders, the candlelight barely visible through her closed eyelids. She focused only on her breath, and then cast her awareness out, trying to feel Suzanna. She was her blood, like Helena, but she’d got lost somewhere along the way, possessed by revenge and darkness. How would it feel to walk alone through the years with all your loved ones gone? Had she watched them die? Her children and husband? Her friends? Her grandchildren and their grandchildren? She would have had to leave White Haven, she’d have been recognised otherwise, her unnatural lifespan discovered. Perhaps she returned from time to time?

  And Helena? Did she know who she was? What she had planned? Did she approve? Avery remembered Helena’s sneaky smile. Yes. She probably did.

  As she sat quietly, listening to the beams creak and settle around her, she became aware of another presence close by, something dark and predatory. She tried not to panic, and kept her eyes closed. It wasn’t a physical presence she sensed; it was something else.

  A voice rang out suddenly, in her head. I sensed you earlier, at my grove. You’re too late. The voice was strong, certain of herself. It was the witch.

  Suzanna. Is that you? Avery asked, her question silent, in her mind only.

  There was moment’s hesitation. I haven’t been called that in many years.

  Yes! It was her. Avery desperately squashed her elation, hoping she couldn’t sense it, and schooled her mind carefully.

  So who are you now?

  There is power in a name. You know that, she chided.

  But I know your real one, that’s powerful enough.

  I won’t tell you. All knowledge is power.

  Yes it is, and we have knowledge, too. We know what you’re doing.

  I doubt that.

  She was so sure of herself, so confident.

  Would it hurt to spell it out? Probably not.

  You’re summoning The Wild Hunt.

  More silence followed, and for a second, Avery thought she’d gone. Well done. You’re brighter than I thought. But it matters not. The spell is too far advanced for you to stop it.

  Why are you doing this, Suzanna? These people had nothing to do with Helena’s death.

  Her voice dripped with scorn. They are the descendants of those who did. They walk and talk and act as if nothing happened. They celebrate the old ways without fully understanding them. They celebrate their festivals and make their bonfires, but they know nothing.

  They try. Isn’t that better than nothing? These are different times.

  Suzanna laughed bitterly. They are no different. People still betray each other out of fear and anger and greed. Trust me. They would betray you in a heartbeat.

  Was she right? Would they? They had told James. Was that a mistake? No.

  Your age has corrupted you, Avery said sadly. You have learnt nothing. You see everything through a veil of the past.

  So would you if you were in my shoes. You, of all people! You only found our grimoires this year! So much secrecy and lying. So much betrayal. You did well to break the spell. I admire you. Her voice dropped, low and seductive. Are you sure you don’t want to join me?

  Yes. It’s pointless to ask.

  Then it is pointless to talk to you. You can try to stop me, but you will fail. Our magic will help me, and my spell is too strong. I have prepared for this for a very long time. You should leave now while you have the chance.

  I’m not leaving!

  Then you will die with everyone else.

  And then she was gone.

  Avery opened her eyes and looked around the room, and then down at the poppet. She had banished the making of it from her mind, and hopefully Suzanna would not have been able to see it. She wouldn’t use it right now. It was too precious. She’d save it and talk to the others first.

  Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen anything of where Suzanna was living. She had been a voice in the void.

  When Avery returned to the snug she found it empty. She could smell cooking; El was in the kitchen.

  Audioslave was playing loudly, and El was singing as she chopped and prepared. A glass of wine stood on the counter. She looked up as Avery entered. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Heard one, more like. No, not a ghost. Suzanna.”

  El put the knife down and gaped. “You’ve spoken to her? How?”

  She gestured around her head. “One of those weird head conversations.”

  “Wow. And what happened?”

  “She basically told me I’d die with the rest of White Haven because I wouldn’t join her crazy crusade.” Avery headed for the wine rack and pulled out a bottle of red wine she’d put there yesterday. “I need this.”

  “The whole bottle?”

  “Eventually,” she answered, as she pour
ed a glass.

  “Is she Suzanna?”

  “Yes. And she’s summoning the Wild Hunt. We’re right, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. And it doesn’t make it any easier to try to stop her.”

  El stirred the pot of whatever she was cooking—something spicy. “Did you make the poppet?”

  “Yes. But I don’t know what to do with it, or when. I want to use it at the most opportune moment.”

  El nodded. “Makes sense. We’re up against it this time.”

  “We were last time as well, but we succeeded in the end. Hopefully Genevieve and the coven will help.”

  ***

  It was another couple of hours before Alex and the others returned, but when they did, they looked pleased.

  “Success?” Avery asked.

  “Yes,” Alex answered as he headed to the fridge, grabbed three beers, and handed them to Hunter and Rueben. “We successfully glamoured Stan and Becky, and they’re heading away for a few days.”

  “And,” Reuben added, “we’ve added protection to their house with a few well-placed runes around the home.”

  “That’s great news,” El said, relieved. “I feel better knowing they’ll be away from harm. Will Suzanna be able to find them?”

  “Even if she does, we’ve glamoured Stan enough to resist her charms. Unless, of course, she decides to just grab them and force them against their will, which is highly possible,” Alex pointed out.

  Avery frowned. “It’s great, and I’ll sleep easier knowing they’re gone, but I can’t help but think she’ll just use someone else. Did you get her scent again, Hunter?”

  “Yeah, it’s faint, but there. But of course when she gets in the car, it disappears and I can’t track her.” He looked frustrated, and the wild power of the wolf hung around him still; his eyes had a strange yellow light to them. “Where’s my sister?”

  El pointed out to the garden. “Out there, somewhere.”

  “I’ll go and find her, and then we’ll head off.” He paused for a moment. “I’d still like to help you, so we’ll come to the grove for Samhain. I’m calling to get Ollie, Evan, and Tommy to come, too.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea—you could easily get hurt. We all could, and you don’t have magic to protect you,” Avery said, frowning. “You don’t owe us anything, either.”

  He gave her a cocky grin. “But I’m a wolf and I hunt. What better help can you get when the Wild Hunt comes to town?”

  El agreed with Avery. “You’re injured! And you’re already in harm’s way. We should protect your place, too.”

  “Already done,” Reuben said, sitting down and joining them at the table. “We have been fast, efficient, and effective today!”

  El raised an eyebrow. “Go you!”

  Hunter headed for the door into the garden. “See you later, guys. And keep me informed!”

  24

  It was halfway through Monday afternoon when Genevieve strode into Happenstance Books. She looked around imperiously, and when she spotted Avery, she pushed through the customers to get to her.

  Genevieve lowered her voice as she approached. “That’s a fine mess up there!”

  Avery tried to smile, but failed. “How lovely to see you, too.”

  Genevieve had no time for pleasantries. “You should have told me about this sooner.”

  “I had no idea how bad it was going to get, or what was going on!”

  Customers started to stare, and Avery headed to the back room, Genevieve on her heels. She slammed the door behind her.

  “The magic in that grove is very dangerous!”

  Avery glared at her. “I know! Why do you think I called? Will you help us?”

  “I’ll have to. It will need all of us to contain it, and I still think we’ll struggle.”

  Avery sagged into a chair with relief. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee?” Seeing Genevieve's unamused face, she added, “Whiskey?”

  “No. I have to get back and start organising things for Samhain. I’ll have a think about how we approach this, but essentially I will be the High Priestess leading whatever spell we do. I shall be channelling all of your energies.”

  “That’s fine with me, whatever you need us to do. Do you want to go ahead with our Samhain celebrations at Reuben’s before?”

  Genevieve shook her head. “No. We’ll meet at Reuben’s to discuss our plans, and then we’ll head straight to the grove. This will be a hell of a way to celebrate.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “We haven’t performed a spell this big as a coven for many years. Not in my lifetime, anyway.”

  “Really?”

  She sat in the chair opposite Avery, all of her bluster gone. “It will scare some of the witches, the more inexperienced ones. They will need our support. Our strength and our ability to act as one is paramount.”

  “How many are there in the whole coven?”

  She ran through the numbers in her head. “Thirty-seven, I think.”

  “Quite a few then, really.”

  “Yes, plenty of energy to draw from, but also a lot to control. And if one person falters…” She trailed off, the implications clear.

  Something struck Avery. “Does this mean that you haven’t channelled all of our energies before?”

  “Not quite so many, and certainly not for an event such as this.” If she was worried, she didn’t show it.

  “I hate to ask, but are you sure you can control all of our power?”

  “I was chosen as High Priestess of the Cornish coven for a reason. I am one of only a few who could handle all of that energy, so yes, I can do it. But it will drain me afterwards, for days probably. But that’s okay, it needs to be done.”

  “And who else has the power? I’m just curious,” Avery explained.

  “Rasmus, Jasper, Claudia, and Caspian. Probably Eve. And in time, maybe you.”

  Avery couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d slapped her. “Me?”

  “Surprised?”

  “Of course! I’m not strong enough to control the power of so many witches.”

  Genevieve watched her thoughtfully. “I didn’t say now, but you already wield power well, and your focus is good. And importantly, your heart is positive. So yes, I believe one day you could.” She rose to her feet, ready to leave. “The road you travel on is long, and the knowledge we gather is never-ending. As long as you’re open to that journey, you will always be in a position of power, Avery. I’ll be in touch.”

  She smiled and left, shutting the door behind her softly.

  It was almost five when Caspian came in. He glanced around and then headed to the counter. Avery sat behind it on her own, counting down to closing time. The shop had been busy, and she couldn’t wait to go home. Well, to Reuben’s.

  “I didn’t think you could get many more Halloween decorations in here, and yet you’ve managed it,” he smirked.

  “It’s festive. I like it. Have you just come to criticise?”

  “No. I’ve heard from Gen,” he said.

  Avery looked shocked. “I’ve never heard anyone call her that before.”

  “I’m not sure she has, either,” he said, winking. “Anyway, she’s told me about the grove and the need for a collective spell. All of my family will be present.”

  “Really?” She squirmed, not really comfortable at feeling she owed so many people her thanks, especially the Favershams.

  “They have no choice. Gen orders it, and I endorse it. Besides, we all know of the danger of the Wild Hunt.”

  “It sounds crazy,” Avery confessed.

  “It will be. Everyone will be affected, everyone in danger. And besides, it’s not your fault.”

  “Well, actually it is. Our rapidly diminishing cloud of magic over White Haven has given Suzanna the power to do this. So it is my fault.”

  “You’re not responsible for a mad woman’s desires. Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. I shall see you on Thursday.”

  “Befo
re you go, I have a question. I forgot to ask Gen earlier.”

  “Sure, ask away.”

  “I’ve made a poppet with her blood in it. When’s the best time to use it?”

  He looked impressed. “You have her blood?”

  “From when we fought.”

  He nodded. “Probably on the night itself, but ask Gen. As High Priestess, she will now control the how’s and when’s.”

  “All right, thanks, I’ll ask her.”

  He smiled and left, and Avery wasn’t sure what was the most unnerving. The Caspian she hated, or the Caspian she was beginning to like. How weird was that?

  ***

  Before Avery headed back to Reuben’s she had one visit planned. She wanted to see James.

  His wife, Elise, answered the door for her and narrowed her eyes. “You’re back.”

  “Any chance I can speak to James?”

  “He’s in the church.” She closed the door in her face with a slam that made the frame rattle.

  Avery realised that James had shared what she was with her, and that she didn’t like it one bit. She shrugged and headed up the path to the church’s side door, reflecting on the fact that she couldn’t please everyone. She just hoped James’s wife would be as discrete as James.

  The passageway beyond the door was slightly warmer than the chill air outside, but not by much. She shivered and shouted, “James?”

  Silence. She headed to the nave, noting low lights in that direction, and saw James kneeling in prayer before the altar. Feeling guilty for disturbing him she turned away, deciding she could speak to him another time, but he lifted his head. “It’s all right, Avery. Come in.”

  He looked drawn, his eyes shadowed.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  He rose to his feet. “I’ve finished. What can I help you with?” His voice was cool, and overly polite.

  “I just wanted to see how you were.”

  “As you can see, I’m fine.”

  No, he was far from fine. She felt so awkward. “Good. Have you been to Old Haven over the last few days?”

  His expression was hard. “I went there yesterday. It’s an abomination. I felt evil, true evil there.”