All the Pretty Witches

by Lauren Quick

  But Honora knew she couldn’t. Black magic wasn’t going to save her. It only made things darker. That was its problem. It promised a quick fix, but in reality it dragged a witch down, changed her, and made her do terrible things. She wrapped the ratty blanket around her shoulders and leaned her head back against the cold stone. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until that moment, her energy drained. She closed her eyes and drifted off, thinking about Witches of a Feather, about Ophelia and her wand whip, and about Magnus borrowing it. Had he been the one to kill Constance? Was he working with Alana? Had they been an item? There was so much more to the club that she still needed to learn, but not tonight.

  Morning was unforgiving—frigid, damp, and lonely. The sun was up, giving her little hole in the ground some trickle-down light. Her head rested on the cold hard earth. Her body trembled under the ratty blanket. Honora tried to close her eyes again, but a squeaking sound caught her attention and she jerked up, suddenly wide awake. The fear of rodent companionship could do that to a witch. She listened hard. Was it her imagination? It had to be. There hadn’t been a mouse or rat in the well last night. She would have known. She was hearing things, going delusional already. Another squeak filled the lonely space. How could a rodent get into the stone enclosure? Getting on her hands and knees, Honora inspected the hard earth, smooth and damp. Next she checked every crack and crevice where the side of the well met the ground. There was no drain just stone and earth.

  The squeaking sound filtered from inside the wall. It was definitely not her imagination. There was a mouse nearby. She crawled closer to where the sound was coming from and waited. Another squeak. And another. Honora smiled. She didn’t even like mice, but at least she wasn’t alone. She stared at the stone where the sound emanated from. The stone moved, shifted, wiggled back and forth like a loose tooth, and popped right out of the wall. Honora made a sound between a gasp and a laugh.

  A tiny gray mouse poked its head out. She squinted at the tiny beast. It was cute and clever and clearly wanted to be friends. Was she totally going crazy? She’d heard that solitary confinement did strange things to a witch’s mind. It was making her soft and desperate for someone to talk with, even if that someone was an animal. The mouse stood on its hind feet and glanced up at her, nose and whiskers twitching.

  “Well, hello. Aren’t you adorable?” She reached her finger out toward its sniffing little pink nose.

  There was a sound from above and Honora’s attention turned skyward. The mouse raced back to its hole. A face appeared and disappeared and a small black cauldron levitated down to her. It was filled with stiff oatmeal with the spoon sticking out of it. A mug of tepid coffee followed. Breakfast. She took the cauldron. “Thanks!” she yelled up, but got no response. She stirred the oatmeal and noticed a few wrinkled raisins. She hoped they were raisins. Better not look too closely. She shoveled the tasteless gruel into her mouth and leaned over, glancing into the mouse hole. It stared back at her.

  “Want some oatmeal?” she asked. The mouse didn’t answer, not surprisingly. She spooned the food into her mouth automatically and gulped down the coffee, feeling revived. When she finished she set the bowl down and with a spark of magic, it began to levitate back up to the top of the well, as if it had never been there. The same thing happened to the mug.

  A few minutes after she’d finished eating, the mouse came out of the hole again, but it didn’t come near Honora, instead it scurried to the opposite side of the well from her. The tiny beast shuddered and glowed, its entire body engulfed in magic. Fascinated and a little leery, Honora sat up and tucked her legs under her. The creature was transforming, but into what she had no idea. The mouse grew, blooming outward with arms and legs and a head until a young witch was sitting on the ground in front of her. She wore jeans, black lace-up boots, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket.

  She shook her head, her hair a ruffle of black curls. “Hello, so nice to finally meet you. I’m Harley Evans.” She stuck out her hand to shake like they were casually meeting at her office or at a lunch date. Honora stared at her hand, mostly still in shock.

  “You’re an animorph! That’s crazy. Who would have guessed? Corder should have told me. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Honora stared, mouth agape. The magical persuasion for a witch to transform into an animal was the most rare persuasion of all. “I’ve never known anyone who could do it. There have only been a handful in the history of Haven Academy.” Honora was babbling. She decided to shut up.

  “I know. It’s a shock. Corder doesn’t know about me. Most of the wizards I work with don’t know either. It’s easier that way. And let’s face it, I’m undercover, so the less anyone knows about me the better. Can you imagine the gossiping if someone on the force besides my partner and the captain knew?” She rolled her eyes.

  “I suppose that’s true. That was you in my cell. And on my pillow.”

  “I’ve been all over your cell, checking for anything suspicious. A mouse can pretty much go anywhere in a drafty old prison and no one really notices.”

  Relief washed over Honora. “I’m just glad you’re here. You need to get a message to Corder to get me out of here. Alana is planning an escape attempt using ancient magic. Luckily I have the spell and her stones.” She showed Harley the materials. “She needed a cursed witch to perform it on a full moon, but I have no intention of doing it for her.”

  Harley inspected the cloth. “This is great.” She folded it up and slipped it into her jacket pocket. She did the same with the bag of obsidian stones. “Nothing like concrete evidence to keep a dangerous witch locked up. I suspected Alana was plotting an escape, but this is great. Though I’m surprised you didn’t see Fever coming. She’s the dangerous one I’ve been trying to get dirt on.”

  “You’re going to tell Corder, right?” Honora asked, pulling the witch back on topic, namely her escape.

  “No, there’s no time for that. I got word that they want you out now. The bust of Witches of a Feather is going down tonight and they don’t want you in here. I was told to do the extraction. We’re leaving.”

  “You mean you’re leaving and getting Witch Cross to let me out of here.”

  “No can do. We’re leaving right now, before they bring your lunch. Witch Cross isn’t in the loop.”

  “See this thing.” Honora shook her ankle bracelet at her. “I can’t fly. How are we going to get out of here? There’s only one way in and one way out.” She pointed to the sky.

  “Not if you’re a mouse.” She grinned. Her features were small and cute, and she was becoming mildly annoying with her can-do attitude.

  “I’m not a mouse.” Honora grew impatient. She was starting to think Harley had been undercover for too long.

  “You will be. I can transform with another person. We can leave together. I’ve already mapped out an escape route.” Her brown eyes sparkled.

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Honora shuddered. Was Harley really asking her to morph into a mouse? It was crazy. What if she didn’t change back and was stuck in a mouse body forever? “I’m not a rodent kind of witch. I don’t like crawly things. No offense.”

  “I know what you’re thinking and it’s perfectly safe. We change and crawl out of this place. I’ll take you as far as I can, then once clear of the prison, you can fly to Corder’s townhouse. I already let them know that was the rendezvous spot.”

  “Why can’t he come here and get me out legally?”

  “I told you. The bust is going down tonight. If he suddenly springs you, it will tip off Witches of a Feather.”

  “But everyone will know I’m gone once they discover I’m no longer in the well and a search is underway.”

  “Actually, prison protocol will activate a search, but they’ll lock down the prison first and no news will go in or out until the search is complete. Then they’ll start interviewing gu
ards and inmates. That will take hours. By the time word gets out that you’ve escaped, the police will be taking down the club.” Harley brushed her hands together like her explanation settled everything.

  Honora was relieved that Corder had enough evidence to arrest the group. That was a good thing.

  “Are you ready?” Harley touched Honora’s arm, but she pulled away.

  “How’s this work? I’m still cuffed.” She glared at the offending ankle bracelet.

  “When we transform, we shrink and the bracelet will fall off. Luckily for you I’ve been doing this for a while and have worked out all the kinks. When we change back, we will be fully clothed. It’s also how we will get the map and stones out of here.” She patted her jacket pocket.

  “You’ve got this all figured out.” Honora shook out her arms. Her palms were sweaty.

  “It’s my job.” Harley seemed to sense her hesitation. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt. It’ll feel a little strange and you’ll be freaked out with being so small, but don’t panic and stick close to me.” She wiggled her eyebrows. Clearly, she loved her persuasion and her excitement reminded Honora of the feeling of being a flyer and reveling in the unique freedom it offered.

  She could do this. In fact, she really didn’t have to do anything. Harley did all the work. She just had to go with the flow and get out of there. Honora’s fear of staying in the prison for a second longer outmatched her fear of being turned into a mouse.

  “Let’s do this,” Honora said. “What do I have to know?”

  “Just relax. Relax is your new mantra. Got it?” Harley said. “Try not to freak out. Keep breathing and follow me.”

  Honora’s tense muscles relaxed. She breathed deeply. Harley took her by the hand and warm golden magic emanated out of her body and washed over Honora. Her body trembled and suddenly she was overwhelmed in a rush of magic like she’d never felt before. She kept breathing, her heart racing, and she held Harley’s hand tightly, afraid to lose contact during the process.

  Being transformed from a full-grown witch body into a minuscule mouse body wasn’t as bone-crunching and blood-curdling as she expected. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience, especially the initial wave of claustrophobia that hit her during the shrinking phase, which felt a little like being crumpled up into a paper ball. But once in mouse form where she was able to move her body, tiny mouse claws and all, she felt more in control.

  Harley didn’t give her a second to think and raced toward the hole. There was no way she was going to fit through the tiny crack, but Honora ducked her head and hurried behind the witch, not wanting to get left behind. She squeezed easily inside of the wall and crawled behind Harley through the stone tunnel and into the earth. The dirt was soft under her paws as she hurried along. Her senses were heightened. She saw clearly in the dark tunnel and heard the earth thrumming with life all around her.

  They made there way through the tunnels for a long time and Honora’s heart pounded in her chest and her energy soared. She raced along, feeling wildly alive. She hadn’t had this much energy in months. She wondered if it was the change in persuasion that was making her feel so much better, like she’d shed her funk and reignited her quest for life. Without warning, they breached the ground and were bathed in daylight on the grassy bank by a trickle of water. Thick tall grass surrounded them. Harley disappeared through the grass, only the tip of her long ropy tail visible. Insects screeched and chirped all around Honora. The air smelled sharp and clean with a hint of rich wormy earth. Her sharp senses were giving her a headache.

  Harley backed up, catching Honora off guard, since they were no longer moving forward. Honora heard the hiss of a snake and leapt sky high. A black slithery mass oozed through the grass right toward them. Harley held up her paw and squealed a magical phrase as the huge head of the snake struck, lashing out toward them and bumping into the magic ward that the witch had thrown up to protect them. Honora squeaked loudly when the snake hit the ward again and again, trying to attack.

  Harley’s paw reached out and grabbed her and they both suddenly transformed back into witch form. It was a dizzying jolt and Honora was glad she was on her hands and knees, for she held onto the ground for support until her head stopped spinning.

  “Sorry about that,” Harley said. She nudged the harmless blacksnake away with the toe of her boot. It didn’t look so scary now that they weren’t eye to eye.

  “I didn’t realize we’d have to look out for wildlife,” Honora said. “Is it always that dangerous?”

  “No, sometimes I’m the snake.” She smiled widely.

  Honora glanced around. They were standing at the base of a huge drain. Harley pointed behind them. “The prison is back that way. We’re clear of the wall and the wards that surround them. You should be okay to fly out of here undetected, but I’d hustle and don’t stop for anything or anyone. Get to Corder’s place as soon as possible.”

  Honora was wearing her prison garb, but the ankle bracelet keeping her from flying was gone. “I won’t be stopping in this getup. In fact, I’m going to fly high and out of sight.” Honora lifted up off the ground and a rush of excitement flooded her whole body. Her magic was back, thrumming through her like the kiss of a lost love. “Thanks, Harley. I owe you,” she said and rose high into the air, high into the glorious sky where she belonged.

  22

  Dressed in a generic lady’s T-shirt and sweats, Corder just happened to have on hand, Honora sat on the sofa in his living room, her hair still damp from a hot shower. She’d stood under the steaming water, letting it blast all remnants of the Banishment from every pore. Corder had been waiting for her when she arrived and had kindly brought her lunch, which she was currently devouring. She shoveled a bite of baked ziti into her mouth and wiped up the zesty tomato sauce in the bottom of the take-out container with a chunk of garlic bread and stuffed it in too. His eyes widened at her ravenous appetite. Incarceration made a girl hungry. Or was it the stress or the transformation into a mouse? Maybe she still had a mouse metabolism.

  She’d considered not telling him about Harley to maintain her secret persuasion, but she had to explain her escape so he could eventually call off the search. She’d learned keeping Corder in the dark wasn’t a good idea. Plus, by telling him, he got to make the decision on how much to disclose to his superiors. She also really wanted to share the experience with someone. The important part was she was free and Alana Burr was guilty, just not of the murder of Constance Danbury.

  “There has to be someone else—an accomplice,” Honora said and licked her fork.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll catch the murderer. But first we take down Witches of a Feather.”

  Corder briefed her on the information and evidence they had gathered. Over the past few days, he and his team had staked out a couple of dark charm dealers in the Halo district and got one of them to turn on the group. They got a warrant for Diabolical, which gave them access to the entire store. The basement had been just the treasure trove of black magic paraphernalia they needed. They had plenty of evidence to arrest the entire club, so they were doing a group bust rather than risk losing one or two of them if word got out and they bolted. Corder’s dark eyes gleamed with excitement.

  “You look better,” Honora said, noticing he was once again clean-shaven.

  “I got some sleep and some food. It works wonders and so does the end of a case. We’re going to finish this tonight, one way or the other. That gang of black magic witches is going down.” He pumped his fist.

  Honora was glad, but still, it wasn’t the real reason she’d gotten involved in the first place. “Do you really think they’ll turn on each other and tell you who killed Constance?”

  Corder leaned back in the chair opposite her. “They always do. We’ll offer a deal to the first one who talks. They’ll tell us. I have no doubt.”

  Honor
a hoped he was right, but after her talk with Alana, she didn’t think it would be that easy. Nothing was easy when it came to backstabbing witches wanting payback.

  Corder waved his wand and a map of the Halo district where Diabolical was located appeared. He laid out the plan. The flyers on the force were working other cases and were unavailable for the bust, so Honora was there for backup. She wasn’t going to participate in the actual operation, and she was fine with that. Her part was simple—make sure no one leaves the shop, and if they do, detain them. Corder gave her a bracelet with charms on it. One was shaped like a pair of silver handcuffs. All she had to do was break it off and send it flying at her opponent. When she spoke the activation spell, the cuffs would latch onto the nearest witch and she wouldn’t be going anywhere. There were also a few other containment charms.

  Two potion bottles sat on the table. They were plain clear glass, nothing fancy. Honora took the one closest to her. “This is the first time in years that I’m taking a glamor not made by my sister.” She uncorked the bottle and the scent of hair dye and roses floated out. It was so strong she turned away, eyes watering. “Potent.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s top of the line. One gulp and in mere minutes you won’t even recognize yourself.” Corder grabbed his potion bottle and downed the contents. “Ready?”

  Honora couldn’t help but smile. “Ready as ever.” She swallowed her potion and shivered as the magical elixir oozed through her. Time to get moving.

  The streets were pulsing with activity. The night was dark and chilly. The moon was hidden behind a thick bank of clouds. Honora and Corder glided down the street, their hands intertwined like two love-starved kids. Honora could barely look at him without laughing. His black hair was shaved into a mohawk and his face was covered in piercings. It was his go-to favorite punk undercover look and it definitely didn’t blend in. She, on the other hand, was wearing the tightest and shortest black leather skirt ever. Apparently, whoever created her disguise forgot that she was a flyer and flyers didn’t wear skirts for obvious reasons, but it was too late now to alter the glamor. Thankfully she was wearing underwear.