White Haven Witches Box Set

by T J Green

  16

  All five witches and Newton were subdued as they sat in the courtyard of The Wayward Son, soaking up the sunshine.

  They had barely spoken on the journey back to White Haven, and only Nils seemed unaffected. Avery presumed, and hoped, that in the wheelhouse he’d have been protected from what they had heard and felt. It was only now, with a pint of beer or a glass of wine in front of them, and the promise of food on the way, that they all started to relax.

  “I know we’ve faced some pretty weird shit recently,” El said, staring at each of them as if challenging them to disagree, “but that has to be the absolute worst.”

  “You’re right, and I know we didn’t see anything, but something was there. I could feel it. It gave me goose bumps,” Avery said, shivering. “Something was watching us.”

  Briar nodded, looking into her white wine as if the answers to the universe were in there. “It felt different from anything else—demons, ghosts, dark magic, the lot. It felt … Other.” She shivered as she finally settled on a word.

  Alex, Reuben, and Newton remained silent, and Avery looked at them, concerned. It was Briar who had ordered the drinks, and Avery and El who had sorted seats. The guys had been suspiciously quiet, meekly doing as they were told. “Are you all right? Alex?”

  He looked up and finally met her eyes. “I heard something. Something wild and inexplicable, just as we were heading out of the cove. I can’t explain it. It was haunting, and—”

  “Compelling,” Newton finished for him. “I can still hear it.” His eyes had a slightly glazed look and he glanced absently around the table. “Maybe we should go back?”

  Shocked by his statement, El turned to Reuben, “And what about you?”

  “I heard the soft sounds of water, and I had images, sort of, of something beneath the surface, something…” He trailed off, unable to focus.

  El acted quickly. She glanced around making sure no one was close enough to witness her actions, and then flashed a short burst of fire to all three men. A jolt of flame flashed across their hands and up their arms, and they shouted in pain.

  Newton yelled, “What the hell?”

  “Feel better?” El asked, narrowing her eyes.

  Reuben shook his head and rubbed his arms. “Wow. Ouch! What the hell was that for? It seems unnecessary.”

  “Was it?” El asked incredulous. “Because you were all in thrall to something. Not fully, but definitely not your normal selves.”

  Alex and Newton seemed to focus on their surroundings for the first time since they had arrived.

  “I do not remember getting here,” Alex said, looking around with confusion and concern.

  “Me, neither. I just felt really sleepy, actually,” Newton said. “Did I doze off? Did someone just burn me?” he asked the table in general.

  “Oh, crap,” said Avery, incredulous. “In the space of seconds at that cave entrance, you were all enthralled to Mermaids. I mean, seriously. How can that happen? I didn’t hear a thing.”

  Briar agreed. “It’s reassuring that we didn’t, but worrying that you did. Thank the Gods you didn’t dive in.”

  El frowned, still playing with the flames at the end of her hands. “We need to protect you from their call.”

  “But how?” Alex asked, bewildered. “I’m not particularly thrilled by it, either. I don’t want to become a bloody Merman.”

  “Does anyone?” Reuben asked, looking around the table. “It’s making me think twice about surfing. In fact, I can’t believe surfers haven’t been attacked yet, but I guess we don’t surf in deep water.”

  “That’s a good point,” Avery said, frowning. “Maybe deep water is their preferred way of luring men, but then why would they walk on land?”

  “There’s just too much about them we don’t know,” El mused. “But so far, both of the boat attacks were at night, so maybe they’re put off by daylight. And maybe that’s what protects the surfers.”

  “We must search our grimoires,” Reuben said. “There has to be something we can use. And maybe the Council will have some suggestions, too.”

  Avery looked at him, surprised. “I really didn’t expect to hear you say that, Reuben!”

  “I know. I’ve changed my mind about them. You were right. We should learn from them. How else do we grow?”

  At this point, the whole table looked at him in shock. He laughed at their expressions and shrugged. “I’ve been doing some thinking, that’s all. And I don’t want to end up as a Mermaid mate, no matter how much I love the sea.”

  From the depths of her bag, Avery’s phone started to ring, and she fished around in the bottom quickly, surprised to see Eve’s name. “Hey, Eve,” she answered quickly, leaving the table so as not to disturb the others. “How are things?”

  “So, so,” she answered, her voice strained. “I just thought you should know that we’ve found some dead cattle at Zennor Quoit, the Neolithic burial chamber on the moors just outside of Zennor.”

  “Dead cattle?” she asked, puzzled. What on Earth was Eve telling her about cattle for?

  “We’re pretty sure the Nephilim have killed them. There were seven of them, all drained of blood, their bodies covered by bracken. The farmer, Carrick, noticed some of his cows were missing, but obviously had no idea to look there. One of the locals was up at the Quoit earlier on a walk, and contacted him.”

  Avery felt faint and slightly nauseous, and heard her pulse booming in her ears steadily. She pulled a chair out from an empty table and sat down. “Cattle? At least they’re not killing humans. Is this a good sign?”

  “I don’t know, yes and no. That they’re not killing people is good, of course, but it means they’re gathering power and growing.”

  Avery thought quickly. St Ives wasn’t that far away. It would probably be useful to go take a look. “Would you mind showing us where? I mean, is it worth us looking?”

  “Sure, I thought you’d want to. I’m going, too. I know the farmer. He keeps me informed of any unusual things happening, and this is pretty unusual. He hasn’t called the police yet, but he will. He has to. We have a small window on time, so…”

  “I get it. I can come now.”

  “Great, I’ll meet you there,” Eve said. It was only when she rang off that Avery realised that Zennor was the place that had been visited by a Mermaid, too.

  ***

  El’s old Land Rover bounced along the lanes and roads to Zennor. It had taken just over an hour to get there, and she pushed the aging motor to move as quickly as possible.

  In the end, four of them decided to go. Briar was working on some protection potions for her shop, Charming Balms, and Newton didn’t want to interfere with the police investigation, although he really wanted to join them, so Alex, El, Reuben, and Avery made the trip without them.

  Avery was lost in thought as she gazed at the moors. They had crossed to the north coast of Cornwall, and after passing through St Ives, had travelled past cultivated fields and meadows for grazing cattle. And then the fields fell away, replaced by wild moorland covered in bracken and heather, an undulating ripple of purple unbroken to the horizon, and the sea to her right.

  “What does this mean, then?” Reuben asked, raising his voice so that Avery and Alex could hear him in the back.

  “I hope it means they’re not going to become cold-blooded murderers,” Alex answered.

  “Again,” Avery tempered. “Five deaths are enough.”

  “But, it would have been easy for them to kill humans again,” Alex argued. “It suggests they have a conscience.”

  “I suppose so,” Avery said reluctantly. “I’m not exactly going to start celebrating, yet.”

  “Interesting that the cattle were slaughtered at Zennor Quoit though,” Alex said, raising his eyebrows. “It’s an old burial ground, with a long history of death and spiritual significance to the area.”

  Avery nodded. “True. Do you think it has significance to them, though?”

  “Well, t
hey’re old. It may mean something to them to kill at such a place. They are the children of angels, after all, if we’re to believe the myths.”

  “Didn’t you ask them about their lineage during your little one-on-one?” Reuben asked Alex, smirking.

  “Not really, no,” he answered, dryly. “I had other priorities. Plus, I really didn’t dictate the conversation.”

  “Maybe they ritualised the deaths,” Avery mused.

  “Let’s hope this place will tell us something, then,” Alex said.

  “It’s quite a long way to take cattle,” El chipped in. “They must have flown them there.”

  “And I doubt the cattle would have been quiet, either,” Reuben added.

  They fell silent, and it wasn’t long before they passed through the small village of Zennor, and then headed onto a tiny lane that led to the moors. Miles of bracken and heather now surrounded them on either side, and it was only a few minutes later that El pulled to a stop as the track ended at a tiny car park. An old estate car was the only other vehicle on site, and a notice pointed the way across a winding track. Avery could just make out a jumble of stones in the distance.

  “It’s on foot from here,” El said, leaving the car and pulling on her jacket to protect her from the brisk wind that blew from the sea.

  The track wasn’t long, and in a few minutes they passed large rocks, some of the many that were strewn across the landscape. This land was steeped in history, marked from years of human habitation; the surrounding fields systems were pre-historic and the rocks marked ancient barrows and old settlements for miles around. Eventually, on a slight rise of land, they saw the huge jagged rocks that made up Zennor Quoit, a Neolithic burial chamber. It was quiet and eerie, the landscape all moor and sky, the only sound the wind brushing through the heathers, gorse, and bracken. It was ancient, and Avery felt the weight of the years around her. This land was special.

  Two figures had their backs to them, and they turned as they approached. Avery recognised Eve, waving. She could already smell the blood and stench of decay as she led the others over.

  “Hey, Avery,” Eve greeted her, smiling weakly. “Great to see you. I just wish it wasn’t for this.” She gestured behind her to the slaughtered remains of cattle visible under the bracken. She nodded to her companion. “This is Nate. He’s another witch from St Ives. That makes a grand total of two of us.”

  Nate muttered a soft “Hey,” and shook their hands as everyone introduced themselves. In that brief word Avery thought she heard a northern accent, and estimated he was in his forties. He had short dark hair, streaked with grey. A section above each ear had been shaved, giving him a slight mohawk, and he had a short beard and light brown eyes. He wore old blue jeans tucked in biker boots, a t-shirt, and an old pilot’s jacket—brown leather lined with fur. Eve wasn’t dressed that differently from him, but a bright blue scarf bound her hair up and off her face, her long dreadlocks visible down her back.

  Eve added, “Carrick, the farmer, was here earlier, but he’s gone to the farm to get his truck. He won’t be long.” She looked sad, regretting the deaths for him. “He really didn’t believe the cattle were his. Thought he was being told wild stories. He’s pretty gutted, actually.”

  “Where’s the person who found them?” Avery asked.

  “It was a local walking his dog. He left when we arrived. He didn’t want to hang around, understandably,” Eve explained. “Anyway, come and look. We haven’t disturbed them.”

  The slaughtered cattle were strewn across an area several metres wide. An attempt had been made to cover them with bracken, but they clearly hadn’t meant to hide them properly. All of the cows had their throats slit and their hearts removed. Flies were buzzing around, and Avery felt bitter bile rising in her throat. But, there was very little blood anywhere. She turned into the wind and took several deep breaths before looking back at the carnage.

  Alex looked at them thoughtfully. “They’ve been drained completely. Seven Nephilim, seven cows.”

  Nate whirled around. “How do you know there are seven Nephilim?” His accent was more obvious now, his deep voice betraying a softened Geordie tone.

  “We set up a little psychic one-on-one the other night in the church, and that’s what it told me.”

  “That’s a pretty cool trick,” Nate said, narrowing his eyes.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it,” Avery said, looking at Alex, exasperated. “He scared the shit out of me. Started talking in a foreign language, probably ancient, and his eyes went white.”

  “It was your idea,” Alex pointed out.

  El and Reuben had left them talking and were strolling around the site, when El called out from the dolmen. “This stone has been moved. The capstone had fallen years ago, if I remember correctly.”

  Eve walked over, the others trailing behind. “You’re right. The large, flat stone on top of the jagged one is the capstone. They put it back in place.”

  “Impressive lifting,” Reuben said. “They’ve used it as a sacrificial table. There’s blood all over it.”

  At that moment, a wild wind keened across them, and they all shivered, pulling their jackets closer. Avery eyed the table uncertainly and wrinkled her nose; the tang of blood was sharper here. The press would run wild with this, if they ever found out.

  Nate hunched his shoulders and asked Alex, “So, what do they want? Did they share that with you?”

  “They want to walk the Earth again. The spirit I spoke to thought they’d been cheated from life.”

  “So these sacrifices, what will they achieve?” Eve asked.

  “We think they want to manifest in physical form, and that’s why they killed those people in the church, to give them the power to change.”

  Avery continued, “And then Caspian and Estelle managed to give the spirit at St Luke’s an extra boost the other night, and that’s when it escaped.”

  Nate snorted. “Typical bloody Caspian. Arrogant prick.”

  El laughed, but without humour. “So, you’re a fan, too.”

  “As much as anyone is on that bloody Council,” Nate said, exasperated. “Eve said you made quite an impression.”

  “I don’t know how,” Avery said, confused. “I thought we’d annoyed everyone.”

  “Not everyone,” Eve said. “Yes, you’ve made our life complicated, but it’s shaken the Council up, and Sebastian has gone. He was a bully. That’s a good thing.” She shivered and looked around. “Is there anything else you want to see here? Carrick will be back soon.”

  Avery shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  While she was talking Alex leaned forward, touching the capstone and drawing his finger across the dried blood. He immediately cried out and fell to his knees, and then rolled backwards, unresponsive. His eyes were closed, but fluttering wildly.

  Reuben ran over. “Shit. What now?”

  Avery dropped next to Alex, the springy earth cold through her jeans. She shook his shoulder. “Alex!”

  Nate pulled her hands away. “Let it run its course. He’s made a connection.”

  Alex groaned and once again, started speaking in the strange language he had uttered the other night. For what seemed an age, but was probably only seconds, Alex muttered and writhed, a sweat breaking out on his forehead, and then he passed out.

  “He needs water,” Nate directed. “Anyone?”

  “Here,” El said, passing her bottle.

  Nate lifted Alex’s head carefully, and trickled some water around his lips. He then brushed his hand across Alex’s brow. Alex immediately stirred and blinked a few times.

  “What did you do?” Avery asked Nate.

  “My mother had the Sight,” he explained. “I’ve learnt a few tricks over the years.”

  Alex sat up slowly, breathing deeply. “Wow. That was intense.”

  “Care to share?” Nate asked, still supporting Alex’s back.

  “It was a warning to stay away. It knows we’re here—that I’m here. But also som
e unwelcome advice. They warn that the Children of Llyr have arrived, and the Nephilim aren’t happy about it.” He rubbed his head. “Has anyone got any paracetamol?”

  Eve crossed her arms in front of her decisively. “Right, you better come back to mine.”

  17

  El followed Eve back along the B3306 towards St Ives, and then on through the town towards Porthmeor Beach and the small nub of land called The Island.

  The streets here, like many small Cornish towns, were narrow and edged with a variety of old stone houses built over the centuries, and because of their size, some of the roads were one-way only. St Ives was known for its colony of artists and art galleries, and the streets hummed with pedestrians weaving in and out of shops, restaurants, and pubs. It had been years since Avery had visited, and she looked out of the windows curiously, noting the changes, while keeping half an eye on Alex. He was subdued, lying flat on the back seat, his head in her lap, and Avery stroked his hair and face.

  Eve led them through a warren of lanes until they were on the coastal road overlooking Porthmeor Beach, and pulled into a tiny car park at the back of a row of cottages.

  Eve lived in an attic studio flat above an art gallery, and while the back view was of the streets and houses, the front looked out over the beach and the wide expanse of the sea, over which was the southern coast of Ireland.

  Avery had not realised Eve was an artist, but it was obvious as soon as she entered her flat. The walls were covered in artwork, either finished or in various stages of completion, and paints, pencils, brushes, pastels, canvases, books, and easels were everywhere. The windows were huge, allowing lots of light in.

  Avery looked at some of the paintings, noting they were of brooding landscapes overshadowed by large expanses of sky. Close up, she could see faint images of faces skilfully disguised in the trees and hills.

  Avery smiled as she looked around, feeling a kindred spirit. If possible, Eve was even more untidy than she was. The far end of the studio was set up as a living area, and three couches had been arranged around the fireplace on the end wall. It was here that Eve escorted them, settling Alex into a seat, before heading to make some tea. The kitchen was open plan, tucked in the far corner next to the living area, where there was space for a small round table and four chairs. There was a single door in the wall, which Avery presumed led to the bedroom and bathroom.