by TJ Green
“Yes, he told me.” She rolled her eyes at the memory of Gabe’s retelling. “His ego is big enough without being told that!”
Avery laughed. “But it’s true. He radiated light, and I could not look away!”
“Eli was the same,” Briar added. “He changed sometime in the early afternoon. It was like he assumed a mantle of power.”
Shadow could see it too, so she wasn’t surprised, but she was curious about the timing. She turned to Alex. “And it was the same for Zee, I presume?”
“Yep. It also happened about early afternoon, and it was like a God had beamed down behind the bar. I felt quite inferior,” he teased. “Can you see it?”
“Yeah,” she said, distracted. “Just in certain lights, as you guys noticed. I’m wondering what set it off.”
Briar shuffled in the cold, her boot-clad feet stamping the frozen ground. “The only thing I can put it down to is the Court of Fools.”
“But the thing is,” El added, glancing nervously at her coven, “now our magic seems to be becoming more obvious. The jewellery in my shop is emitting a silverly light.”
Shadow studied them. To most people, she imagined the witches would look ordinary enough—they were still people, after all—but they carried unmistakable power. Obviously, they controlled it well, keeping it tightly bound until they used it, but she could see and feel it. “To me you look as you always do, but maybe others who are not as perceptive will see your magic differently now.” And then she had another thought. “Do I look different to you?”
El shook her head. “No. Not yet, anyway. But it is getting darker, and there’s something about the half-light that seems to trigger it.”
“So, something happened yesterday to make all this happen,” Alex said thoughtfully. “Briar is right. It has to be the Court of Fools.”
Before anyone could comment further Stan’s voice carried to them, and they turned to see that the wassailers had formed a long line. In the deepening twilight, old fashioned torches flared into life, the flames curling into the air, and Reuben cleared his throat before welcoming everyone.
“What is this thing with Reuben at the moment?” Shadow whispered to El. “You know, the whole welcoming thing?”
“It’s Stan’s idea. It fits in with the medieval, feudal lord of the manor theme. Reuben can handle it for a short while, but I’m not sure he’ll be willing to do it long term.” She laughed mischievously. “He prefers his surfer identity to lord of the manor.”
Following Reuben’s introduction, the Holly King took his place at the head of the procession, the drummers next to him, and Jago led them across the castle grounds and into Ravens’ Wood. Shadow reflected that it was hard to believe the ancient wood had only been in existence for such a short time. Hardly anyone knew that, thanks to the Green Man’s magic, and it now seemed as if this tradition had been going on for decades.
The witches and Shadow fell into step with the procession as Jago led them in an old wassailing song, and as the darkness thickened and the bells and drums marked time with the rising voices, Shadow felt the wood change as they passed beneath the branches. Like the rest of Ravens’ Wood, the orchard was ancient. The branches were gnarled and knotted, and they tangled overhead, casting gothic shadows in the firelight. The torches were carried carefully, their bearers wary of damaging the trees.
Briar clutched Shadow’s arm unexpectedly, and a green light kindled in her eyes. “He’s here,” she whispered, almost breathless, and Shadow knew exactly who she meant.
“I feel him,” she nodded, sensing him tug at her fey magic that she kept as tightly bound as the witches did.
The Green Man was a watchful presence, his joy bubbling over as they progressed farther into the orchard. They were surrounded by apple and pear trees for the most part, although there were also plum trees further in, all of which were wild and uncultivated. The ancient forest did not encourage husbandry. They finally halted, and Reuben left Jago and Stan to join his friends where they hung back on the group’s periphery.
Jago addressed the crowd again, his voice carrying around them and up into the canopy, and then Stan, obviously unable to leave behind the libations he provided in his Druid persona, offered them up now—and summoned other things.
“Oh no,” Shadow murmured as she watched dark shapes flit amongst the crowd. “The dryads are here.” She looked at the witches in panic. “Can you see them?”
“I can,” Briar said immediately, her pale face both excited and wary. “I really hope this isn’t going to be like Beltane.”
“I see them, too,” Avery said after studying the crowd for a moment. “I thought it was just shadows, but I can make out separate shapes…” She caught her breath, transfixed. “They’re so beautiful!”
“They are,” Shadow murmured, wondering at what point the wassailers would become aware of them.
A couple of dryads caught her eye and Shadow nodded to them, sensing they were responding to the gathering energy as the wassailers carried out the pagan ritual. She knew there was no doorway between the worlds, even in this ancient woodland, but the Green Man had managed to bring them here somehow; a community of the Otherworld living in harmony with the trees. It wasn’t like being amongst the fey, but for Shadow it was at least a little taste of home.
The strange scent of the Court of Fools wafted across them. Shadow wasn’t at all sure what role the jesters would have here, but for now they circulated, participating in the singing and dancing. Rupert and Charlotte were closest, celebrating with the rest of them, but their eyes were hooded in this light, and Shadow couldn’t help but notice the transformation in their faces. They looked different…less human.
And then, as if a veil had fallen—or maybe lifted—everything changed.
A pale green light shimmered across the bare branches and hung in the air like dust motes, and the drumming thickened, sounding both closer and farther away.
A collective gasp escaped the group, and in seconds there was chaos.
The joyful singing erupted into screams as the crowd became aware of Otherworldly beings amongst them. They ran, panic-stricken, into the depths of the wood, including the Court of Fools. Only a few remained, transfixed with wonder as they watched the willow-limbed nymphs dance to the beat of the faraway drums.
“Holy shit!” Reuben exclaimed, horrified. “What are we going to do?”
“Can we say a spell for calm?” Avery asked, hardly able to draw her eyes from the dryads, either.
“Maybe the Green Man will intervene,” Briar suggested.
“I doubt it,” Shadow said, shaking her head as she watched the graceful, green-skinned dryads with their mossy clothes spin through the trees. “They shouldn’t be here! They are shy creatures, preferring to remain with their own kind, even in my world. They care not to interact with fey, and certainly not humans! Why appear to a huge group now? This doesn’t make sense!”
“Were they summoned?” El asked. “I mean, I know we didn’t do it, but could someone else have?”
“Like who?” Alex asked, also with an eye on the dryads. “And how do we explain this? The whole town will be rife with gossip—if they haven’t gone mad,” he added with a worried look at the few people who were still transfixed.
“And what’s with the green-glowing trees?” Reuben asked.
“Dryad magic,” Shadow said. “They are essentially tree spirits. We’re seeing their connection to the forest.” She fell silent as she watched them spin dreamily around, weaving effortlessly through the wizened trunks, oblivious to the wassailers’ screams that pierced the early darkness of a winter’s night. “There’s only one way to stop this, and that’s for the dryads to return to the trees…and they’ll only listen to me.” She turned to the witches. “While I deal with these, maybe we should round everyone up. And probably also let Newton know to send some local police. If we leave someone stranded, they could freeze to death out here.”
It was hours later before Alex returned
home with the other witches. Shadow was planning to ride home on Kailen, but when they left, she was still in Ravens’ Wood talking to the remaining dryads.
“That was not the way I imagined today would go,” he said as he handed out beers. “This news will be everywhere tomorrow!” And that meant endless speculation in the pub that he’d have to try to downplay.
“Thanks,” El said, gratefully accepting a drink as she settled on the sofa. “But there is a theme to this weekend’s madness. Have you noticed?”
Avery was lighting the fire, but she looked up from her spot on the rug. “The Court of Fools?”
“Well, yes that, but more so the fact that magic is being unveiled.” She paused to let it soak in as everyone looked at her. “The Nephilim’s magic, my magic, potentially yours, and now the dryad’s magic. And I saw Shadow’s glamour waver in the wood, too.”
Briar groaned, her hands over her face. “You’re right, El! My balms and lotions and candles could all be shimmering with magic right now. What does this mean? Who’s doing it?”
“Is there another witch in White Haven?” Reuben asked.
The fire was blazing, and Avery stood and warmed her back against the flames. “It’s possible, I guess. Maybe someone is intentionally trying to make life harder for us.”
“It could just be harmless mischief,” El suggested.
Alex grunted. “Harmless? Did you hear the screams earlier?” He ran his hands through his hair, feeling the tangle of twigs and leaves from where he’d been caught in branches as he hunted for the wassailers. “I just hope the police manage to find everyone. We all know that Ravens’ Wood is hazardous at night.”
“At least the stall vendors were unharmed,” Reuben said, trying in vain to cheer everyone up. “In a couple of days’ time, this will be one of those great White Haven tales everyone will share—just like the Walk of Spirits!”
“Let’s hope Newton thinks so,” Briar said softly. “He was furious when he arrived.”
“He was just worried,” Avery said, trying to reassure her. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon. He said to order him food.”
“Speaking of which,” Reuben said, leaping into action, as they all knew he would at the mention of food, “shall I order a selection of curries?”
After a chorus of agreement, he rang their order through while Briar said, “All of this has to do with the Court of Fools…it’s the only new thing to happen in White Haven!”
Alex dropped into an armchair, suddenly weary. “True. All the other celebrations have been going on for years. Well, except for things in Ravens’ Wood. Could its magic have reached the town?”
Briar shook her head. “No. It’s too far out. And besides, the events were triggered before today.”
“And you’re sure none of you have been trying out new spells that might have got out of hand?”
“No,” El said certainly. “Why would we want to reveal our magic?” She held up her antique ruby necklace. “This is still glowing! In fact, it’s getting stronger. I’m going to have to take it off tomorrow. How can I wear it to work?”
“But what about your other jewellery?” Briar asked. “Won’t they be the same?”
“So far, they’re not as bad as this!”
“But it’s old,” Avery pointed out, suddenly excited. “Inherited from your witch ancestors. And our magic, in general, is old.”
Alex recognised that spark she had when she had an idea. “You mean the old family magic that courses through our veins?”
“Exactly!” She grinned at him. “And the Nephilim have ancient magic, as does Shadow and the wood. What if something is tapping into that?”
“It brings me back,” Briar said earnestly, “to the Court of Fools. We’ve all smelled that strange scent coming off their clothing. What if it’s caused by a spell?”
Reuben nodded as they considered the possibilities. “They have been everywhere in town, so I guess it’s possible they have unknowingly spread a spell around.”
El was curled into her favourite corner of the sofa, sipping her beer, and she said, “I don’t think it’s a case of tapping into our magic, Avery, but it is being revealed for some reason.”
“Okay, so say it is their costumes,” Alex said, trying to reason it through, “why spell them in the first place? I mean, what does it achieve? Because there must be a point to it!”
Reuben shrugged. “The point could be exactly what is happening—to unveil magic. They are jesters’ costumes, after all. The intent is to cause mischief.”
“And to exact a sort of reckoning, too,” Alex mused. “The Lord of Misrule, as we know, is about topsy-turvy behaviour—the weak or poor get to have one over on the stronger or richer.”
There was a knock at the door, interrupting his chain of thought, and leaving the others chatting he headed downstairs to find Newton outside holding bags of curries.
Newton shuffled inside with a huff. “I timed that well. Please tell me there’s some for me.”
Alex took a bag from him and led him upstairs. “Of course. Glad to see you didn’t get lost in Ravens’ Wood.”
Newton looked tired and exasperated, and he nodded a silent greeting at the others. The arrival of curry had spurred them all into action, and once they had set out the food, plates, utensils, and drinks, they sat around the dining room table, loading their plates.
“Did you find everyone?” Briar asked, looking concerned as she grabbed a piece of naan.
“We think so… Well, at least no one complained of anyone being missing.” Newton ladled a portion of curry onto his plate. “It seemed no one had travelled too far into the interior—I hope.”
Alex and the others had helped locate a lot of people before they left, and he nodded his agreement. “We found the same thing, but were worried a couple may have gone astray.”
“We had a line of officers search with torches for a good distance and found no one else, but, wow, it was unnerving in there. Shadow was helpful, though.”
“Did you see the dryads?” Avery asked him.
“I saw something,” he confessed, “and quite honestly, I don’t want to think about it too much.”
Alex understood that. As familiar as they were with magic, the Otherworld and its inhabitants were still deeply unsettling. He’d had disturbing dreams about Beltane night for weeks.
Newton shook himself as if dispelling strange thoughts. “Okay, so where are we up to with this? Because I assume you are looking into why this happened?”
“Sure,” Alex said, summarising all their news. “I guess we start with the costumes.”
“Which means we need to talk to Stan,” El said. “It sounds like this is all his idea.”
“Well,” Avery said, “he’s bound to be in town tomorrow. In fact, the whole place is going to be buzzing with news about today’s events. I guess whoever has the chance should talk to him. And then once we know where the costumes came from, we should start digging.”
Five
Briar completed the glamour spell and assessed Eli critically. They were in her herb room at the back of Charming Balms Apothecary, and it was just before opening on Monday morning.
When he’d arrived, sneaking in through the back door, he still radiated his unearthly power, and his wings were partly visible under the fairy lights. He was desperate to get out of the house, and was relieved that Briar thought she could help.
“Well, I think it’s worked,” she said, smiling at him. “It’s a spell we discussed last night. We wanted to help you all with your predicament. But maybe we should ask Cassie,” she said, looking at Cassie expectantly as she made them coffee.
“Twirl!” she instructed Eli with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You look fine to me. Well, as normal as any oversized human with devastating good looks can.”
“Ha! Funny,” Eli replied, not amused at all. “It’s a gift. But are you sure?” Eli looked down, holding his arms out and then twisting to look at his shoulders. “I feel the same, but
I did the other day, to be honest.” His handsome face was grim with concern. “You have no idea the trouble this has caused this weekend.”
“I have some idea, actually,” Briar said, accepting her drink gratefully from Cassie. “Shadow told us. But hopefully yesterday’s events have chased that gossip away.” She had already updated Cassie on the wassailing, and knew Eli would have seen Shadow. “Did she get back okay last night?”
Eli nodded. “Yeah. She was late, though. Said the dryads couldn’t explain why they had felt compelled to materialise from the trees, they just did. Didn’t sound like they were too happy about it, either.”
Cassie groaned. “I wish I’d been there! Ben and Dylan will be gutted!”
“The way things are going,” Briar assured her, “they’ll capture plenty more stuff in town.”
Cassie shook her head. “No, they won’t. They both left Cornwall to see friends and family for Christmas, and I’m not that good with the camera stuff.”
“That’s a shame,” Briar said. “I just wonder what other type of magic might be unveiled.”
“Or what other general weirdness may ensue,” Eli said, leading them into the shop. And then he stopped in the doorway and Briar thudded into the back of him. “Briar. Have you looked in your shop yet?”
“No.” She tried to push him out of the way, but he was as immovable as a wall. “I came in the back door. What’s happened? Move, you big lug.”
“Er, I think the Green Man has happened.”
He stepped out of the way and Briar gasped, utterly speechless. Cassie was pushing through the door behind her and she squeaked out, “Herne’s horns!”
“Please don’t tell me he’ll turn up, too,” Briar muttered as she took in her shop that now resembled a woodland grove.
The greenery that they had hung up on Friday has sprouted shoots and now rambled across the window, along the ceiling, around the doorframe, and over the shelves. Her balms, lotions, teas, and candles merely peeked out from verdant green leaves and holly.
