The Case of the Wayward Witch

by A. A. Albright

  After I knocked for another minute or so, the door finally swung open, and a dog stared up at me. It was a medium-sized dog, and its fur was a dark shade of grey, verging on black. For some reason, it was wearing a bright red hat on its head.

  ‘Seeing as you look exactly how Ned described, I’m going to guess that you’re Katy Kramer,’ it said in a thick Scottish accent. The voice was most definitely male. ‘And you’re clearly keen, aren’t you, Katy? Ned didn’t expect you until tomorrow morning. She’s suffering a bit at the moment, what with finally tracking down Guillermo.’ He heaved his furry shoulders into a sigh. ‘Although why she expected any better from a Púca, I’ll never know.’

  I hadn’t put enough sugar in my after-lunch cup of tea, that was the problem. Clearly, more energy was needed to deal with this. When Ned’s cat had talked, it was because it was a familiar. But now a dog was talking too? There was only one, absolutely terrifying conclusion to be drawn. This had to be one of those psychotic, wild and rabid weredogs I’d read about in Uncle Faster’s books. I certainly hadn’t expected to find them so gosh darned cute, though.

  His red hat looked like a pointed wizard’s hat, and it even had a golden buckle, and lightning strikes painted on for decoration. It was, in a word, adorable – so adorable that I almost forgot my childhood experience with the chocolate-thieving Foo-Foo.

  But maybe that was how they did it – maybe these weredogs fooled you into patting their head and rubbing their bellies, only to sink their teeth into you as soon as you’d succumbed.

  He sighed. ‘Ned warned me you had a tendency to escape into your own train of thought while you were supposed to be in the middle of a conversation. She found it very rude. I, on the other hand find it rather fascinating.’ He beckoned me in with a head motion. ‘Well, come on in, will you? I want to get a better look at you.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said as I lugged my suitcase and Aunt Jude’s chest in behind me. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve never met a weredog before.’

  Still seated on her cushion on the bone chair, Cleo the cat whistled. ‘Now you’ve gone and done it, Katy,’ she said with a gleeful grin. ‘You’ve managed to annoy the most easy-going idiot in the enclave.’

  I had to assume that the easy-going idiot she’d mentioned was the dog, seeing as he was currently growling at me. He stopped growling, just long enough to say, ‘Are you being purposely rude, or are you just ignorant?’

  ‘I … I don’t know,’ I answered, panicking. ‘It’s just I heard so much about weredogs and I … well, I didn’t expect that you’d be wearing an adorable hat, that’s all.’

  He growled once more. ‘You really do think I’m a weredog! It wasn’t some sick joke? Look, I’m not a dog at all, you ninny, I’m a wizard. And my hat is not adorable. It’s an OAP, like every single hat I own.’

  I gaped at him. ‘You’re wearing an old-aged pensioner’s hat?’ As the cat smacked her paw against her cushion and laughed, I had the feeling that I’d gotten yet another thing ridiculously wrong. Well done, Katy. I really was taking to this detective thing like a duck to water. Y’know, if the duck was visually impaired and swimming in a toxic pond by mistake.

  He began to bark at me, and I was just about to turn tail and run, when Ned arrived. She had a wet cloth pressed against her forehead, and her eyes were bloodshot. ‘Calm down, will you Hamish? It’s an easy mistake to make. It’s not as though there are a whole lot of wizards walking around in dog form, now is it?’

  ‘But it’s not even full moon, Ned. Any idiot knows weredogs rarely turn outside of the moon, and even more rarely in daylight.’ The dog glared at me. ‘I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this, you know. I mean, how could you possibly invite a stranger into our home while you know who is up in the you know what? It’s just asking for trouble, Ned. I mean, what is she? Who is she?’

  I tried not to react to that. You know who was obviously Diane, and I was guessing that the you know what could be the attic. But as excited as I was to be so close, I couldn’t let them know I was a hunter.

  ‘Well, she’s …’ Ned looked me up and down, frowning. ‘She’s an unempowered witch who’s studied some basic wizardry, I think. I told you what she was. But …’ She moved closer, staring at me in a way that made my skin tingle. ‘Actually, now that I think of it, where’s your Admitaz, Katy?’

  My head was beginning to ache. I still had no idea what an OAP was, and now she was going on about Admitaz? Sure, I’d seen the word connected with the necklace on Aunt Jude’s maps, but seeing as they could clearly see my necklace right now, I was afraid I might have been wrong in thinking it referred to my jewellery.

  ‘You don’t know what she’s talking about, do you?’ asked Cleo. She leapt from her chair and knocked Hamish’s hat from his head. ‘The buckle on his hat is an OAP – OAP means an object of awesome power,’ she said. ‘As a wizard, Hamish needs to channel power because he wasn’t actually born with any.’

  ‘So let me get this straight.’ I rubbed my temples, wishing I’d packed some painkillers in my bag. ‘A wizard isn’t just a male witch?’

  The cat sniggered. ‘Of course not. Let me reiterate, dummy – a wizard is what we call someone who’s worked for their power instead of simply being born with it. And when I say worked, I mean it. Wizards put the hours in, learning how to channel, learning how to perform spells, tracking down powerful objects to help them out. Some wind up far more magical than witches. We have other names for them too – wiccans, shamans, things like that, but here we mostly call them wizards. Where on the goddess’s green earth did you hear that they were male witches, Katy?’

  My face reddened. ‘I … I guess I just assumed,’ I lied, inwardly cursing my uncle and every other witch hunter in the Kramer family. Didn’t they know anything? ‘But then why …’

  ‘… is he a dog?’ Cleo finished my question. ‘Well, that’s what Hamish is trying to figure out. That’s what we’re all trying to figure out.’

  The dog sat back onto his haunches, sighing. ‘I went to sleep one night as a man, and woke up the next morning like this. It happened months ago, and we’re no closer to finding out why. I’ve tried everything. I’m a fairly powerful wizard, but this has me stumped. I’m assuming someone hexed me and, well, given that we live in Samhain Street, it could have been just about anyone.’

  ‘Do you understand now?’ Cleo licked a paw and hopped onto a shelf beside me. ‘We assumed you tracked Guillermo down with wizard magic, because any unempowered witch can study wizardry to gain power. I mean, good goddess, even a dumb old human could study wizardry. But one thing neither of them can do is see – or enter – a witch-run enclave. Not without Admitaz.’

  The cat gave me a frightening stare, then hopped back down again. It wasn’t fair that a kitty so cute should also be so scary. I suddenly wished I hadn’t ever started this. I should have just let Uncle Faster carry on thinking that a woman couldn’t do his job. Because I couldn’t do this job. Right now, the three of them were giving me the kind of looks that said I might not get out of here alive.

  While I moved closer to the door, the cat nudged a bag that was tied to the inside of Hamish’s hat. It was secured with a band which had two snot-green covered crystals hanging off either end. ‘This is Hamish’s Admitaz,’ said Cleo. ‘Anyone who’s not an empowered witch needs a stone like this to enter Samhain Street, or any witch-run enclave.’

  ‘You don’t have any,’ I pointed out, surreptitiously turning the door handle behind my back, quelling a scream when I realised it was locked. When had that happened? One of them must have done something magical to lock it. Some kind of jiggery-pokery or hocus-pocus. Either way, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be leaving this place alive.

  ‘I’m a familiar you ninny,’ Cleo informed me. ‘I’m bonded to my witch and I’m magical in my own right. I don’t need Admitaz. But unless you’re a witch, you do.’

  ‘And Katy is definitely not a witch,’ said Nedina. ‘My Aura
meter would have shown me if she was.’

  I studied my shoes. They really weren’t practical enough for running for my life – even if I could get out the door. But I was curious about something. When I used my own magnifying glass to look at myself, and at Uncle Faster, we’d both had that strange white circle in the centre of our forehead, tinged with turquoise and surrounded by black. And the turquoise had been so much stronger on my forehead. If Ned’s Aurameter thingy was anything like my magnifying glass, then surely she would have noticed. But if she had, she would have mentioned it, wouldn’t she?

  ‘Hey, wait a minute.’ Hamish deftly lifted his hat back onto his head with a combination of mouth and paw, and sauntered towards me. He jumped up and nudged my necklace. ‘She does have Admitaz. It’s just not the usual kind.’

  Cleo sniggered. ‘That’s not Admitaz, you ninny. The stone in her necklace is blue. Everyone knows Admitaz is the colour of something I blew out of my nose.’

  ‘It’s true, almost all Admitaz is ugly,’ the dog said thoughtfully. ‘But in my wizarding studies, I learned about another kind. Disgruntled Admitaz. It’s incredibly rare, and super-expensive. Back when it was a cause of shame for a witch to be born unempowered, the richest covens used to pay a fortune to find the stuff, just so they could hide the fact they had a non-magical child.’

  I fingered my necklace. What had he called it? Disgruntled Admitaz? Could that really be what this was? And if so, how had Aunt Jude come across such a thing?

  ‘With a stone like that, you clearly come from a rich and powerful coven, Katy,’ Hamish continued. ‘Which begs the question – why would someone who comes from a coven like that want to hang out on Samhain Street?’

  I flopped down onto my suitcase. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t let it end like this. I didn’t know much about these people, but I knew for sure that Diane Carey was a murderer. If they were hiding her, then I needed to stay on their good side until I found her. I couldn’t tell them the truth, no matter how much I detested all of this lying.

  ‘Okay,’ I said, thinking on the spot. ‘I’ll come clean. Until recently, I knew absolutely nothing about Samhain Street or any other enclave. I am an unempowered witch, outcast by my coven. I grew up in the human world, thinking I was an orphan, thinking I had no family in the world at all. But recently a distant relative got in touch by letter. She told me all about my coven. But I’d … I’d rather not say who they are, because the thought of how they abandoned me is still too heart-breaking. She gave me this necklace as a gift, and said she couldn’t have any more contact with me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about this new world. It all made sense to me, you see. I might not have the magic of a witch like you, Ned, but I’ve always had strange gifts. I’m a little bit psychic, and I have a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to finding people.’

  ‘She really does,’ Ned relented. ‘I mean, I’ve been trying to track Guillermo for months, and yet Katy found him in a matter of hours.’

  ‘Look, I know that it’s always best to be upfront,’ I continued. ‘But in a way, that’s why I came to Samhain Street. It’s an enclave for misfits, isn’t it? People who don’t fit the mould. People who don’t want too much attention. I feel the strongest urge to be part of the magical world, but only on my own terms. I just want to live here in peace from my coven, in peace from the law, and, well … get on with helping people like me. People who want to track down people they love, people they’ve lost, without getting the Wayfarers involved.’

  The three of them stared at me, until Ned said, ‘Well, it’s nice to finally meet the real Katy Kramer. Come on then. I’ll show you your room.’

  12. Dead Tasty

  The flat above the necromancy shop was so far from what I expected. It was large, bright and lovely, with comfy couches and bespoke furniture. It was open-plan, and the kitchen looked old but well-equipped, with one of those fridges from the nineteen fifties. There were two bedrooms at the back of the flat. Ned’s had a huge, circular bed with the curtains drawn across the windows. I guess she’d been in there, crying over Guillermo, when I arrived.

  The room meant for me had a queen-sized bed, a free-standing wardrobe and a lovely old dresser, as well as an armchair and a bedside table. The bed looked freshly made, and there was a faint hint of perfume in the room. It could have been from Ned, I supposed, but it smelled spicier than her scent. Had Diane been here?

  I approached the window, about to take a look onto the street below, when Ned cleared her throat to attract my attention.

  ‘Hamish used to sleep in here too,’ she said. ‘Before you, I mean. But I can hardly expect you to share with him. He might look like a sweet fluffy doggie, but he’s actually a thirty-year-old man who was quite the flirt at one time, so I doubt you want him watching you get undressed.’

  ‘Hey.’ Hamish appeared at her side, looking overly offended. ‘I would never ogle Katy. Even if she is a bit of a cutie pie.’

  Ned rolled her eyes. ‘Becoming a dog hasn’t stopped his roving eye, as you can see, so I’ll move him up to the room in the attic. That’ll be why you’ll hear moving around up there, so no need to go up and check it out yourself. It’s only a flimsy old ladder, so …’

  Well, that wasn’t at all suspicious. ‘What about Hamish, then? Will he be all right climbing up and down?’

  ‘Oh, he doesn’t need to climb,’ Ned replied quickly. ‘As Cleo said, the buckle on his hat is an OAP. So he can channel that power and use it for spells to transport himself up and down. He doesn’t have to go anywhere near the ladder.’ She hovered by the door, poking at the frame with a fingertip. ‘Well, you probably want to get settled in, then, before you start sorting out the shop.’

  ‘I do,’ I answered. ‘But I don’t want to keep you, if you’ve things to do yourself. I’ll be fine unpacking my own things.’ And sneaking around.

  ‘Of course, of course.’ She nodded to the chest. ‘That’s a lovely piece. Did you inherit it?’

  Fluff. It was time for another lie. But at least Uncle Faster had been right about one thing – without hunter eyes, she couldn’t see the inscription on the wood. ‘No. No, the only thing I ever inherited was this necklace, like I told you. The chest is just something I picked up at a market. Em … is the shop closed today?’

  Ned studied the floorboards. She’d painted the ones in my room a lovely shade of cream, while the ones in the main living area were simply varnished. ‘I was going to open late but then … well, I got a bit side-tracked about the whole Guillermo thing. Katy … what sort of feeling did you get from him? Do you think … is he conflicted at all or does he just not love me?’

  Oh dear. I might not actually be psychic, but I definitely had a feeling about Guillermo. He was a sleaze for sure. ‘You know, his whole vibe feels quite … guarded,’ I said carefully. ‘I would have needed to spend longer in his presence to know for sure. But Ned, if he doesn’t love you, then he’s an idiot. You’re worth a hundred of him.’

  She swallowed. ‘Well, I suppose I should get some work done downstairs. But I was thinking of heading to the Bank for dinner in a little while. Hamish is coming, and some other friends of ours, too. You’d be very welcome to join us. Your meal would be on me, of course, as a thank you for your detective work.’

  If I said no, then I could check out the attic while they were gone. But on the other hand, I didn’t want to appear too suspicious. They probably wanted to keep me close until they knew me better, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. For now, it was best to play along. Also, my stomach was rumbling, so I smiled and said, ‘I’d love to join you guys. Thanks so much for asking.’

  ≈

  ‘This looks … nice,’ I said as we walked into the Bank. It really didn’t. It stank of beer and some sort of funny smoke, and it had scratched wooden booths and threadbare carpets.

  ‘Don’t knock it,’ said Hamish. ‘It’s better than the Rusty Warlock – a place you should never go into if you like being alive.’

  The Rus
ty Warlock was the place that the fight had spilled out of this morning. I definitely didn’t want to go there. But was this really a better option?

  Despite the dodgy décor, the customers looked happy enough, tucking into their meals with gusto. The largest concentration seemed to be around a counter to the left of the main bar area. There was a sign beside the bar saying: Today’s Exchange Rates.

  Below, it listed how many golden rounds, silver sickles and so on you could get in exchange for your standard Irish currency.

  ‘Ah. That’s why it’s called the Bank.’

  ‘That, and it used to be an actual bank,’ said Ned. ‘The Carey Coven run the place now.’

  I knew Ned had promised to buy me dinner, but I thought it might be a good idea to buy a round of drinks. Leaning down to Hamish, I opened my purse. I’d put a few of Aunt Jude’s coins in there before leaving. ‘I exchanged my money somewhere else,’ I whispered. ‘Do you think I have enough for some drinks, or should I exchange some euros here?’

  Hamish’s eyes widened. ‘Put that away if you don’t want to get it stolen! You’ve got a fortune in there. Enough to buy the whole bloody bar, let alone a few drinks.’

  I snapped my purse shut. If that was true, then I probably had enough coins to buy the entire street back in my chest. Where had Aunt Jude gotten all of that magical money?

  ‘Where did you get money like that?’ Ned asked, echoing my thoughts.

  ‘I sold everything up,’ I lied. ‘My flat, my car, some other investments. When I told you I wanted to start a new life here, I meant it. But maybe you guys could help me figure out which coins are which later on. I don’t want to make a fool of myself again.’

  ‘No,’ said Hamish. ‘Or get yourself killed. It’s …’ His voice trailed off, as a middle-aged man approached. He was pale, bald and round, and looked like he was at the end of his tether.

  He looked at me and said a brief ‘Hello,’ before turning to Ned. ‘So this is Katy, I suppose. The one who’s living in my daughter’s old bedroom.’