Feathers, Tails & Broomsticks

by Dionnara Dawson

  James gave a sigh, though he was still smiling. ‘Can you magic cheeseburgers here? I’m starving.’ He made himself comfortable on the couch, as though the room hadn’t just nearly burned down around him.

  Remy gave two sharp clicks of her fingers. A quick lick of blue flame danced over her fingertips. Three plates of food appeared on the coffee table, each accompanied with a steaming mug of coffee.

  James’s face lit up. He picked up the burger and took a hungry chunk out of it. ‘You have gotta learn how to do this,’ he told Hella through his mouthful. He made happy-food noises until he devoured the entire plate. He then looked up at Remy as if he’d finally found a deity worth worshipping. ‘Thank you,’ he said, still chewing.

  Hella scrunched her nose up at James but sat down next to him.

  Remy took a seat in the once-burned armchair, picking up her latte. She nodded to Hella. ‘There’s a lot to explain.’

  Hella sighed. ‘I should call my mum. She might be worried about me.’

  ‘Of course.’ Remy nodded.

  Hella took out her phone and dialled her mother, who picked up on the second ring. ‘Oh, hi honey. Everything okay?’

  With a little more venom than she intended, Hella said, ‘Well, apparently I’m a witch—you never told me that—and I nearly just burned Remy’s store down with her and James inside. So, thanks for filling me in about that.’ Hella hung up the phone with a huff. James and Remy exchanged looks, eyebrows dancing, but said nothing. ‘Please continue to tell me how everything I’ve ever been told was a lie.’ Hella smiled through her teeth, ignoring the coffee and lunch that smelled so good.

  Remy leaned forward. ‘Hella, dear, you weren’t ready. If we had told you before your powers were activated, you wouldn’t have believed us.’

  James nodded. ‘That’s true. We didn’t even believe her about the man with the yellow eyes. Is he a friend of yours?’ He peered into Remy’s eyes. ‘Do witches have weird-coloured eyes?’

  ‘Yes, I was concerned about that when you mentioned it before.’ Remy said with a frown. ‘It’s time we dealt with that.’ She stood up, then went to get the phone she kept by the register. She dialled a number. ‘I need your help. Hella has been activated, but she’s already seen a demon. Get over here.’

  James and Hella stood at the same time.

  ‘A demon?’ Hella asked, incredulous.

  ‘Who did you call? What’s going on?’ James asked nervously.

  Remy shook her head in disbelief. ‘I’m afraid this is getting serious. The prophecy, Hella, about you, is coming true. We need reinforcements.’

  Hella stepped forward, her eyes ablaze. ‘What the hell is this damned prophecy about me?’ She was yelling now.

  Remy closed her eyes briefly. ‘I don’t think I should just tell you straight out, Hella. It’ll be too much right now—’

  James lay his hands on Hella’s shoulders as she opened her mouth to interrupt. ‘Hella,’ he said softly. ‘Just take a beat, okay? This is all really confusing. Let’s not pile on, okay?’

  Hella’s shoulders sagged. ‘Fine.’

  Remy relaxed. ‘My friends will be here shortly, Hella. They’ll need to talk to you.’

  ‘Who are your friends?’ Hella asked, weary.

  Remy smiled. ‘They’re my coven. Or, should I say, our coven.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hella

  Hella had not spoken to her mother very nicely on the phone earlier, she knew, but felt that her reasons were justified; her mother and father had hidden from her that she was apparently a natural-born witch with magical powers.

  Hella wiped ash off her hands onto the black tie-dyed dress, though her restored clothes were now fine. Walking up to her house, Hella did not look forward to this conversation with her parents.

  ‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ James offered, seeing her hesitate.

  ‘No, I think I had best go in alone. But thanks.’ She touched his arm. ‘I can’t believe today happened the way it has. But I’m glad you were with me.’

  James dropped a nod. ‘Of course. I mean, there’s no fine print for what to do in case your friend turns out to be a witch, but I’m still sure that’s an “of course” thing to do.’ He blabbered on awkwardly until she shut him up with a hug. For a moment, they lingered, afraid to let go of something so familiar.

  ‘I’m sorry I set you on fire,’ Hella murmured into his shoulder.

  ‘It’s okay. I’m fine. And I trust you not to kill me.’

  ‘Maybe you shouldn’t trust me,’ Hella whispered. Her magic had felt so strange, beyond her control. They broke apart. She felt her heart thrumming in her ears. The world she had once known so well, and thought was agonisingly boring, slipped between her fingers, like trying to catch smoke.

  James frowned. ‘It’ll all be okay, you know.’

  Hella shook her head. ‘I don’t know that. Apparently, I don’t know anything.’ She looked at her house, the living room lights on. ‘They lied to me, my whole life.’

  James took her by the shoulders. ‘They were trying to protect you.’ He led her up the path, straight to the front door and rang the bell three times. Finn Corvime answered, worry creasing his brow. They heard his wife call, ‘Is that Hella? Is she okay?’

  ‘Mr Corvime. Nice to see you.’ James smiled politely, then pushed Hella toward him. ‘Go, it’ll be fine. Call me later. We’ll head back to the bookstore to meet Remy’s coven friends.’ He turned to leave with just a hint of a smile. Just for her. Hella wanted to go bury herself in her bed, to hide under the covers and then wake up from this strange, vivid dream. But something rang in the back of her head, a phrase her father liked to repeat even when writing his books. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. This was all real.

  Her dad wrapped her up into a tight hug. ‘I’m glad to see you, kiddo. Come inside.’ As he shut the door, she could see James waiting at the end of the path with an encouraging two-thumbs up. Hella smiled at him over her shoulder as she was led into the living room, the front door shut.

  The late afternoon sunlight poured in through the windows. Her mum teetered nervously on the edge of her seat on the couch. ‘Hella?’ She sounded tentative, unsure if her daughter was mad at her.

  Hella was mad. At both of them. But after today, she went to hug her mum anyway, and she sighed, relieved. ‘I have to go back to Remy’s soon. The coven—’

  ‘I know, honey, she called me,’ her mum said.

  And just like that, the anger came back, flicked on like a light-switch. ‘Oh, well you two just know everything about me, don’t you?’

  Her mum frowned. ‘Oh, Hella, we’re so sorry. I know you’re angry, but we didn’t think you were ready—’

  Unable to sit still and listen to this, Hella stood and began to pace.

  Her father chimed in. ‘Hella, sweetie, your mum is right. Despite the things you read, you’ve never believed in this stuff before. I know it’s overwhelming, Hella.’

  ‘I tried to see what you would think about it all, having my wiccan things around the house and you simply thought I was eccentric,’ her mum said. ‘Honey, we were trying our best.’

  Her dad put his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes. ‘Hella, I know it’s crazy being told all of this. I know it seems like you’re different, a freak, but we love you. We just have to keep an eye on you.’

  ‘To keep you safe,’ her mother interjected with a glaring side-long glance at her husband.

  Hella huffed, then collapsed into an armchair. She waved her hand. ‘It’s been a very long day.’ She sighed, barely listening to them. ‘What exactly do you need to tell me before I go back to Remy’s?’

  Her mum looked like a doe in headlights, her green eyes wide and troubled. She opened her mouth, but her dad cut in.

  ‘Honey,’ he said gently to his wife, ‘maybe she just needs to know the basics.’

  She nodded. ‘What did Remy tell you, Hel
lora?’

  Hella’s nose crinkled at the use of her full name. She recounted the events of the day, starting with putting on the amulet, to telling James, setting the fire, and then about Remy’s coven. Her coven.

  Grace and Finn Corvime were stoic while their daughter talked, nodding along in silence. As though they had known all this already, or perhaps that one day they had expected it. Maybe they had. When she finished, Hella felt very tired. ‘Is there magic to make someone less tired?’

  Her mum nodded. ‘Yes, honey. It’s a potion—called coffee. How about we make some?’

  Hella rolled her eyes at her mother’s effort to be funny. She was many things; beautiful, elegant, kind—but not funny. They moved the conversation to the kitchen while her mum busied herself with three mugs. The large French windows behind Hella looked out onto the blossoming garden her father liked to keep. The sun was dropping low in the sky, all bloody shades of red and orange.

  ‘Do you have any questions for us?’ her mum asked softly, pouring the boiled water.

  ‘I have so many,’ Hella admitted. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’

  ‘Pick one,’ her father said. ‘We won’t keep anything from you.’

  Hella looked at her mother. ‘Can you do magic like me?’

  Her mother nodded, then paused. ‘A little. But you’re much, much more powerful than I am.’

  ‘If I’m so powerful, does that mean I don’t have to go to school?’ Hella asked jokingly. To her great surprise, both of her parents glanced at each other. ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘Are you serious? I didn’t think that would work.’

  ‘Well, Hella, you have a long road ahead of you—magically speaking. School may not always fit into it. Obviously, your education is important. But there’s a greater power at work here, and your help will be needed, which will take priority over your schoolwork.’ Her mum passed her the coffee mug. ‘We should tell you a few things.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘When you texted me earlier, about the man with the yellow eyes, we knew then that it would be soon. You were almost ready. Hella, that was a demon, a well-known one, actually.’

  ‘Remy was right? There are demons?’ Hella asked, not sure that she really wanted to know after all.

  ‘Yes. And they’re very dangerous. But there’s much more than that out there,’ her mum said.

  Hella leaned over the bench. ‘I’m going to regret asking this, I’m sure, but what else?’

  ‘There are angels. They’re bad,’ her mum said seriously.

  Hella frowned. ‘Angels… are bad?’

  ‘Yes. Now, we don’t have much time.’ Hella’s mum straightened. ‘Hella, technically I’m not part of your coven—I’m not really strong enough to be in one, so Remy is your official guardian. But I want to see what you can do. Show me.’ She smiled excitedly.

  ‘What? Magic?’ Hella blinked up at her.

  Her father leaned over her shoulder. ‘No,’ he said sarcastically, ‘we want to see a card trick. Yes, magic.’ His green eyes sparked.

  Hella scoffed at her father, as if he had the right to patronise her about this. ‘I don’t know how I did it before. I was angry. I nearly burned the store down.’

  ‘Well, your magic will come from your emotions. Try to focus,’ her mum said, more kindly.

  Hella closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. Her hand was in a fist, gloved in dancing red-purple flames. Hella’s hair changed from red to shining purple, as if her powers licked up her hair whenever she used them. Her mother clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

  Something creaked from the back door, and they all turned to see Hella’s younger brother, Elliot, wide-eyed and terrified, sneaking inside. His mouth was open, staring at the flames. ‘What the hell?’ he yelled, rushing to Hella. He grabbed a tea-towel and tried to use it to smother the fire, but the tea towel caught fire, so he threw it in the sink.

  ‘Mum! Dad!’ he yelled. ‘Help her! She’s on fire!’

  Her parents scrambled to stop him, but the kitchen erupted in panic. Hella somehow extinguished the fire on her own, leaving more black soot on her skin. She looked from her mum, her dad, to her horrified brother. ‘I should go—I have to go now.’

  Elliot caught her up by the upper arm. His darker red hair fell over serious eyes. ‘Hellora, what is going on?’ His tone was concerned but sharp, especially for a thirteen-year-old.

  Hella froze, looking to her parents for help, but behind her brother, they both shook their heads vigorously. Don’t tell him, they seemed to be saying.

  ‘I was trying to light a candle?’

  ‘You’re lying. You were on fire,’ he snapped, harsh and accusing.

  Hella thought back to Remy’s warning not to tell other people what was really going on. Not that she really understood what that was. The truth, it seemed, sounded more like a gothic horror novel. However, her best friend James knew the truth, or as much of it as she did, and he seemed okay with it. Excited, even.

  Hella looked into her brother’s Corvime family-green eyes. Elliot’s were the darkest, like a glass bottle. His features were darker than the rest of the family, as if he were always being looked at in the shade. He was also the most serious of their family, and seemed truly worried for his sister. She couldn’t lie to him the way their parents had lied to her. She cleared her throat.

  ‘I’m a witch. The fire was mine.’

  Her parents both started yelling.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nerretti

  Nerretti watched as Malachai leapt, his wings splayed, swinging in a perfect arc, slicing the demon neatly in two with razor-sharp feathers. A black spray of blood followed, licking up the warrior’s perfectly clean white uniform and onto his bright wings. Malachai only smiled, his teeth spreading in a wide grin. The smile didn’t touch his emerald eyes, which smouldered with contempt.

  ‘Filthy demon,’ Malachai spat at the ground. A dark puddle was all that remained of the demon, other than the black blood splattered on the angel.

  Nerretti stood to the side, avoiding the mess. ‘Yes, very good. Another one down. It’s almost dawn and that’s, what, four already?’ He rarely had the need to fight with Mal as his partner. Or, rather, he never got the chance.

  ‘Actually, Net, I think that’s five.’ Mal gave a wicked grin and shook his wings, splashing rivulets of black blood onto the pavement.

  Net tutted at his over-zealous partner. Though, Mal was considered one of the best in their squadron. It was even rumoured that he was one of Father’s favourites. Net watched as Mal folded away his great white wings, aglow with angelic fire.

  Nerretti took a moment to concentrate. A slight frown creasing his brow. ‘I don’t think there are any more demons in the area. I don’t sense anything.’

  Mal grimaced as the earliest touches of light shone from the rising sun in the east. He frowned, pulling his gloves over his hands to protect his skin from the yellow ball of energy. Net did the same, his fingers wriggling.

  ‘We should go.’ Nerretti nodded to the light, and Mal agreed.

  Their hunting would have to be over for today. There was no sense of evil that he could tell, nor any auras of other magical creatures, such as witches or warlocks. The small town was a nice place for fighting in open spaces. In the early hours of the morning, minutes before sunrise, there were no stragglers or witnesses to their righteous work, but Net believed Mal had been hoping for some.

  Malachai frowned. ‘I don’t sense any demons, but I think I do sense—’ He broke off. Mal’s wings were folded neatly on his back, but his shoulders tensed as someone approached.

  A young man walked alone, earphones in, head hidden under a dark hooded jumper. Net barely caught Mal’s sleeve before the angel took off.

  ‘Mal, don’t—’ he started, a stone dropping in his stomach. ‘Oh, no.’

  Malachai caught the young man by his shoulders and the kid yelped. Malachai sh
ook off his hood, ripping the headphones out of his ears. Grinning, Mal called over his shoulder, ‘Net, look.’ The young man tried to squirm out of Mal’s tight grasp, the angel’s bruising grip held firm.

  The young man’s eyes widened in horror. ‘Angels,’ he breathed, watching as Mal’s wings unfolded spectacularly, set ablaze in holy fire.

  Nerretti caught up, skidding to a halt. ‘Oh, Mal, don’t. Leave him alone.’

  Malachai’s face grew dark, his emerald eyes glowing blindingly white with angelic power surging through his veins, his halo a bright golden ring around his black hair. The young man struggled, squirming.

  ‘I can’t do that, Net. I was hoping to hunt a few Cambions on this assignment, and look’—he glanced at the creature in his arms—‘This one just came crawling over to us, begging for our attention.’

  ‘Please, I’m not a demon!’ the young man breathed, though that hardly mattered.

  Sunlight crept over the horizon, it’s burning rays searing the back of Net’s neck. ‘Mal, we should go.’ But his partner ignored him. Mal reached out, gripping the young Cambion’s throat with his gloved hand. Immediately, Mal’s angelic fire began to sear his skin and he opened his mouth to scream, revealing pointed teeth.

  ‘Look, Net. Werewolf.’ Malachai released the young man, who gave out a low growl. ‘Run, wolfy, and we’ll catch you.’

  The werewolf took off at run, on all fours. Net glimpsed his throat, burned and bleeding, before he was a blur and out of sight. Mal had a manic look in his glowing eyes, and made to run after him, but Net pulled him up short. ‘Mal, that’s not why we’re here,’ Net said, ‘and we’re out of time for today.’

  The sunlight reached Malachai and he winced as the light kissed his face. Mal turned on his partner, raising an arm to protect his face from the light. ‘We have been raised, trained, to fight the evil on this earth. That includes them.’ He jabbed a finger in the direction the werewolf had run. ‘They’re part demon, they’re diseased. All Cambions are the same; werewolf, vampire, warlock and faeries, they’re all evil, Net. Don’t let Father hear you defend them. They feed off his precious humans, after all.’