Battle of the Hexes: A Paranormal Academy Series (A Witch Among Warlocks Book 4)

by Lidiya Foxglove

  “All right, calm down, Bruce Lee, it’s a ward,” Harris said. “Just hold on a sec. It’s a tricky one.” He crouched beside the lock and cast a spell that made a glowing multi-layered pattern appear over the lock.

  In the back of my mind, I always thought it was a little weird that Harris focused on studying wards and defensive spells more than, like, blasting fire everywhere. Now it made sense. We wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without his skills. It was like undoing a knot—even after he forced the ward to become visible, it took patience to untangle the pattern. He danced the tip of his wand around the pattern until it suddenly broke open and disappeared. He opened the door and now we just had to bolt to the car.

  Montague unlocked the car doors. “Hmm,” he said, sizing up the interior. “I think we have to put Stu in the trunk.”

  “No kidding,” Harris said. “It’s hard enough cramming five of us in a sedan. Alec, you have to change back.”

  Montague opened the trunk. At this point, we’d had a minute to catch our breath and suddenly it hit us at once. Montague tried to fold him inside the trunk gently, arranging his arms and legs, like he didn’t know what the most respectful position for placing a friend’s body inside a trunk could be. Stuart had a calm look on his face, and he was elegantly attired in dark blue silk with buttons made of gold with little pictures of trees. His skin was getting a waxen look as he sunk further into death.

  “He looks like he was okay with dying…,” Montague said.

  “Yeah…” I swallowed. “Stuart was always so calm. I guess he did what he needed to do. It just happened so fast. Like, I didn’t think he would die. It feels like the end of Harry Potter where all these characters just die and it’s like, why? I know that’s how real life is sometimes, but it sucks. It just sucks. Poor Ignatius has lost so many friends, and I…I don’t know. It feels like you can’t trust anything to be permanent. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to hang out with Daisy again either. She didn’t really want to marry a faery. She just did it so we could make this happen. I hate this.”

  It was very quiet out here. I didn’t hear anything in the distance and I wondered if they were still fighting Lord Cyrus.

  “Fares Wyrd as she must,” Firian said. “It’s the lesson your mom left for you if she never came back. Farewells are painful but they’re part of the fabric of life. A Wyrd witch can’t hang on. Your power comes from the life and breath inside you at this moment. It’s not dependent on Stuart or Daisy or even any of us.”

  “Firian, don’t even talk like that.” I had to stop looking at Stuart. I climbed into the back seat of the car, waiting for the comforting warmth of Alec and Firian cramming in on either side of me. Montague popped the hood.

  “What are you doing?” Alec said. “We need to get going!”

  “I’m just checking to make sure the engine isn’t a mouse nest,” Montague said. “I don’t know if this thing has been driven in three years. The gas might be bad.”

  “Well, let’s just see, huh?” Alec said.

  Montague opened the gas cap and sniffed.

  “You want to stop and wash it off while you’re at it?” Harris said. “Get out one of those windshield cleaner things?”

  Montague ignored them both and pulled some leaves out of the engine before slamming the hood and climbing in. “Cross your fingers.” He turned the car on and we got blasted by classical radio.

  “Hey, those sons of bitches actually did drive my car around,” he growled, fiddling with the controls. The CD player made some grinding sounds. “Where is my Iron Maiden CD?”

  “At least it works,” I said, privately thankful that someone had stolen his CD. I was not in a metal mood now, if I ever was.

  Relief swept over me as Montague drove out through the gates. I knew that soon we would be fully in the normal, human world, on normal, human highways. My own clan was safe, although I tried not to think about the price we’d paid, or the battle still to come.

  We didn’t talk all that much until we’d reached I-81, where Firian stopped and grabbed me a normal outfit—a t-shirt with a fox on it that said ‘Foxy Lady’, oh ha ha—and then Montague found an automotive place and insisted on changing the oil even though I was really freaked out by the fact that we had a dead body in the trunk so maybe we shouldn’t be stopping? He pointed out that it would be very bad to break down in the middle of nowhere when we got to North Carolina and started out on the lonely roads to Merlin College. I begged for the use of a phone so I could call Dad, just to tell him we were fine, although I couldn’t tell him much with Chet from Auto Zone leaning on the counter next to me.

  “We tried to get to you at the Haven,” Dad said. “Even though Ignatius sent us a message telling your mom not to go. I had to talk her down from not blasting through the doors. Just be careful.”

  Mom seized the phone from him. “Hello, darling. I really was. I was going to burn the place down. Your father pointed out that if they killed me on the lawn that might make things worse for you, but I’m still not sure. I might have killed them instead. How did you all fare? Do you need me to join you somewhere?”

  “Um…” I swallowed.

  Join you somewhere.

  I wasn’t used to this at all. If I told Mom we were going to fight the council with Ignatius, she would probably want to show up and help. If she was fighting, I would want to show up and help.

  Did that mean I should invite her?

  I didn’t want to. Mom, you need to stay home with Dad and learn to be normal again, I thought. Just let me handle it. I was glad she didn’t really get the chance to kill anyone.

  “We’re all fine. Here. Did Dad mention I’m using the phone of a helpful employee at Auto Zone in Wytheville, Virginia? I’d better go hand the phone back to Chet.”

  I hung up before she could change my mind.

  “Helicopter parents?” Chet said sympathetically. “They’re probably freaking out that you’re on a road trip with some dudes.”

  “Something like that. Thanks for letting me use this.”

  It was when we were back on the road that Harris finally said, “So just what is your plan with Stuart? You’re not bringing him back, right?”

  “That’s definitely too much for you,” Firian said. “You’re still recovering. I’m not sure any necromancer can handle bringing two people back from the dead in one lifetime.”

  “I said I wasn’t bringing him back!” I said, although I had to admit, I was tempted. I’d done it once already. Harris was fine. I was fine. I’d lose my magic for good, but Ignatius’ face…

  Firian brushed a hand over my knee, bringing me back. “No. Even if you could, you shouldn’t. Stuart wanted you to keep your magic.”

  “No,” I agreed. “I know. I know I can’t.”

  Firian was right, when he told me I had to try and get my magic back, that nothing else had ever made me so happy. I had never been a bad student, but I’d also never cared that much. But with necromancy, I’d been reading every book I could get my hands on, and one lesson that sprung to mind was how to move ghosts.

  “So…I read that ghosts are usually anchored in one place. Where they died, usually. Sometimes another site with unfinished business. The Haven was full of angry ghosts. I’m still annoyed I didn’t get to give them a chance to attack the place that killed them. I never had the strength. Now I’ll be at Merlin, and they’ll be stuck at the Haven, unless…I can move the ghosts.”

  “Can you move ghosts?” Alec asked.

  “I read that you can. There was a book that said that sometimes one ghost can lead the other ghosts to a new place. You need to move the body of someone who died there and then summon that ghost in the new location, you know, create a new anchor. Then that ghost can lead the other ghosts to a new spot. But it helps if it’s a powerful spirit, which Stuart surely is. So if I summon Stuart to Merlin, maybe he can lure the other ghosts.”

  “That’s cool,” Montague said. “It would make sense.”

  “I suppos
e it’s worth trying,” Harris said. “We’re in for a fight there. With Piers, and probably other members of the council. They’ll be fresh and we’ll be tired. We have the faeries, but how much can we trust them? I’d rather count on you, Chosen One.”

  “I wonder if Stuart knew that was possible,” Alec said. “You know, maybe he planned it.”

  “This sounds like the spell you were meant to cast,” Firian said. “I’m proud of you. You really studied.”

  “Oh, wow.” I blushed. “Thanks, guys. I was afraid it sounded like an unrealistic plan.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Harris said. “Hopefully, you can pull it off. Otherwise we might all be dead by the end of it. No pressure or anything.”

  “Can’t you just be supportive for once in your life?”

  “You know our agreement. That isn’t my job.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Charlotte

  Two armored faeries were standing guard on the road to Stuart’s cave. A fire was crackling outside with more soldiers and Lord Cyrus leaning against the rocks, arms crossed. It was late in the night, and I was just glad we’d made it without getting into any fights with the council, but the look on his face still annoyed me a little. Of course, he didn’t seem surprised to see us, because I guess he read our minds. He didn’t say hello or ask us if we had found Stuart, or tell us what happened to Daisy, or offer us whatever they were drinking out of flasks.

  Nothing.

  Faeries really were an arrogant bunch. Stuart was always a little emotionally detached, but he was nice, and his home was welcoming.

  “So…hi,” I said. “We’re here. Where are Ignatius and Professor McGuinness?”

  “Inside,” Lord Cyrus said. “They needed rest before the battle ahead.”

  “So you didn’t have any trouble sending Daisy and the other girls to Wyrd?” Harris asked. “Are they safe?”

  “Well, Queen Morgana will determine what to do with them,” Lord Cyrus said, shrugging. “It isn’t my business.” He glanced at us and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Oh,” he said. “You’re worried. Well, not much you can do about that for now. They made an agreement and they will never return to this world.”

  “Never?” I said. “Not for visits?”

  “I see no reason why they ever would.”

  “But what is the reason why they couldn’t?” I wondered if Daisy really realized how permanent that agreement was.

  “They need to learn to assimilate into our realm,” he said. “And I expect it will not be easy.”

  “Well, I believe Charlotte had an agreement with you that she could draw magic from Wyrd once she delivered the brides,” Firian said. “So as her familiar, I need access to Wyrd.”

  He shot me a quick, reassuring look. Right. At least Firian could check on Daisy. Good thinking, Firian.

  “That is correct,” Lord Cyrus said. At least, while he didn’t seem like he wanted to be helpful, he also didn’t put up a fight. “I can establish that connection for you now, so all of you who swore yourselves to Wyrd can access our magic.”

  “We also have Lord Stuart’s body,” Montague said. “In my car. I’m sure Ignatius would rather he had a proper burial instead of spending the night locked up in a trunk.”

  “Your…car,” Lord Cyrus said, looking down the gravel path to the electric blue Mitsubishi. His expression was that of a conservative billionaire realizing that the host hotel for his fundraiser was being shared with the after-party of a particularly flamboyant pride parade. However, he softened slightly. “Well, I doubt Ignatius is sleeping. By all means, your friend and my fellow should be buried properly. He was almost never seen at court but he did fight for us.”

  Cyrus was right. Ignatius, Ina and Professor McGuiness were sitting around inside drinking whiskey.

  “Charlotte!” Ignatius said. “There you are. I was just saying, your mom—“ He laughed. “I was living in New York City and we went to this punk show at a club, pretty rough, this neighborhood. We were coming back, no one on the street—“

  “Stu was there looking like Stu,” Ina said, in a husky voice that still made me shiver when I heard it.

  “Like he worked for IBM,” Ignatius said.

  “And your mother had a little doll of a dress and these white boots up to her knees.”

  “That was really a time of boots,” Ignatius said. “We thought we were alone and we ran into a homeless werewolf. You really don’t see that much but he must have smelled us, and he wolfed out and just ran at us like it was his last stand.”

  “We were eating hot dogs,” Ina said. “That was why. He wanted our hot dogs.”

  “And your mother, Charlotte, she just kicked his face with her boot, said, ‘No’, and kept walking and the wolf had this look like ‘huh?’” He doubled over laughing.

  He was clearly halfway to drunk, but I started laughing too. I could imagine my mom doing this. I felt a pang. Maybe I should have told her to come and be with her old friends. I hated to interrupt their happy memories.

  “We brought Stuart,” Montague said. “We don’t have much time.”

  “No.” Ignatius stood up and poured out more whiskey, four glasses of it. “Sort of an Irish wake tonight.”

  He stood up, still steady on his feet at least, and Ina and Professor McGuinness followed. I let them take the lead. Stuart had helped me, but he was really their friend. Plus, Ina terrified me and I wanted to avoid her.

  “We shall keep guard while you bury him under the tree,” Lord Cyrus assured them.

  The three of them got Stuart’s body ready for a funeral while my guys offered to dig a grave.

  This was not how I anticipated on spending a date night.

  “I wonder if this is how it will always be,” I said. “Being a witch. Digging graves.” I was sitting under the tree. They wouldn’t let me help. I still needed to heal.

  “I don’t think so,” Montague said. “Merlin College went a long time without any on-campus murders. We never had this kind of trouble when we were kids. Once we establish territory and everyone has to acknowledge that Wyrd is part of the magical world, it’ll calm down.”

  “Then we can get back to the real business,” Alec said, stopping to wipe his forehead off with his shirt. Probably to cheer me up, as much as anything.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Making our girl happy,” he said. “Settling down.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Why not here?”

  “Can we live at Merlin College forever?”

  “It’s true,” Firian said. “If this becomes a gateway to Wyrd, it will be the only one in America. And who better to be the gatekeeper than you? As more Wyrd witches and warlocks come forward, they’ll need a place to learn magic.”

  “It’s a good point,” Harris said. “There’s no rule saying this place has to stay a college exactly as it is. We could take over Lancelot dorm and live there. It’s a good old house with plenty of rooms.”

  “We’d have to make this a place to gather for all ages, since this is new,” Alec said.

  “So there would even be kids here?” I asked.

  “Kids?” Firian groaned.

  “You don’t like kids, Firian?”

  “I’m sure I will like your kids, because I like you enough that it’ll be required,” he said. “But as a familiar, no, I don’t like kids. Kids are so rowdy. You can’t just be a fox without someone trying to grab you.”

  “I like it,” I said, looking up at the stars. “When we have kids they’ll have someone to play with who is more like them. I never had that. I didn’t know what I was, but I knew I was different.”

  “The rest of your family might even want to live here,” Montague said.

  “Hmm.”

  “Too close?” Alec asked.

  “Too close with all of you around,” I said. “The only thing more awkward than your dad interrupting sex with your boyfriend is your dad interrupting sex with three or four boyfriends…”<
br />
  “And there will be plenty of that,” Alec said, parking his shovel in the dirt for a moment so he could sit down beside me. His arm went around me, and I leaned into his strength.

  “We can’t do this over Stuart’s grave!” Montague said.

  “Well, we’re almost done,” Firian said. He had been using earth magic to loosen the dirt before shoveling, so things moved pretty fast. “We can go back to the cave and have cave sex.”

  “It still seems disrespectful,” Montague said.

  “You’re a vampire now. Making love at graves is what you’re supposed to do,” I said. “Anyway, I need to summon Stuart first, but I don’t think he would care. I mean, if I was dead, I would want the people who were still alive to enjoy themselves. I want to feel alive. This is the first time we’ve ever all been together at once and sort of safe, my bruises are doing a lot better, and we don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”

  “That’s what I think too,” Alec said, kissing my forehead. I grabbed his cheek and dragged his face down to my mouth.

  “Mm,” he said. “Already been too long.” He kissed my neck.

  “Ahh…” My hand slid down his t-shirt, found the hem, and slid up his bare skin underneath.

  “Mm…” His hand cupped my breast.

  “That’s the sound of the men working on the chain gang,” Firian sang, whipping some dirt our way.

  I tossed a small rock at him, knowing he would duck. I guess Dad exposed him to oldies at some point.

  “I don’t think you have any right to talk about how rowdy kids are,” Montague said.

  “I think we’re done,” Harris said. Only their heads were visible above the hole in the ground. “It’s close enough to six feet and god knows what time it is. Charlotte needs time to summon the spirits and it’s a good moon. Let’s see if they’re ready.”

  “Yeah…” I didn’t want to peel myself away from Alec’s warmth.

  But I had this one hugely important task to do.