by Helen Harper
No. I needed her to lean over so I could grab that damn vial. I groaned. ‘My back,’ I said in a strained voice.
‘Don’t move,’ the medic instructed. ‘We’ll look you over and make sure you’re alright.’
Trevor Bellows appeared from out of nowhere. ‘This is the second time this contestant has been out for the count. I think it’s time we withdrew her from the competition.’ He paused for a beat. ‘For her own safety, of course.’
I struggled up to my elbows. ‘I think I’m okay.’ I pressed one hand against my ribcage. ‘It really hurts here, though.’
Belinda leaned close enough for my plan to work but there were too many cameras. I couldn’t see any angle from which I could perform the rune I needed and not get caught. I grimaced. Well, so much for that idea. If I wanted to steal Belinda’s vial without her noticing, I’d have to do it off camera. That was a pain in the arse.
Gasping, and trying to appear winded, I gently pushed away the medic and got to my feet. ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘I can do this.’
Barry looked concerned. Even Belinda’s concern seemed genuine. It belatedly occurred to me that I couldn’t do this kind of thing again. With one contestant dead, Enchantment couldn’t take any chances with our wellbeing. They really would pull me from the show, whether I was their much-needed nasty contestant or not.
Thinking quickly, I babbled out a reasonable excuse. ‘I’ve been hexed!’
Everyone blinked in shock.
‘Hexed?’ Belinda tried to frown but her forehead couldn’t wrinkle naturally. Botox? ‘What do you mean?’
‘I had it,’ I said with defiance. ‘I had the rope in my hands and then I felt a shooting pain which only magic could create. One of the other contestants has bespelled me because I’m such strong competition.’ Even to my own ears I sounded ridiculous.
I saw Armstrong open his mouth to speak but Barry sidled over and murmured something in his ear. The director’s expression cleared and he gave me a happy thumbs-up. Yes, this was all part of an act. Just not for the reason he thought.
‘I’ll get my own back on whoever did this,’ I said, with an added snarl. ‘No one hexes Ivy Wilde and gets away with it.’ I applauded myself mentally; I’d make an excellent panto villain.
I followed up my words of dire consequence with a glare, flinging a narrowed-eye look at the other contestants. The truth was that they were all too far away to see what I was doing but it didn’t matter. The camera picked it all up and I managed to soothe the last of the crew’s worried expressions, as well as fulfilling my brief. ‘I’m good to go again,’ I said. ‘I won’t be beaten!’
I threw my arms around in an extra flourish and almost smacked Bellows’ face in the process. His expression hardened. ‘I have to insist—’
‘I’m fine,’ I interrupted. ‘Never felt better.’ I jumped up and down as if to prove it. Immediately I regretted it; I still had three-quarters of the obstacle course to complete.
‘Everyone else has been kept in the position they were when you fell,’ Belinda said.
I nodded, catching sight of an irate-looking Harriet perched precariously on top of a high bar with her hands fluttering in the air. Oops.
‘I’ll blow the whistle and you’ll begin again. If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Excellent.’
I breathed in deeply and, a moment later, we were off again. Rather than merely strolling, I tried a bit harder this time around. Coming last after my faked collapse might not reflect well on me.
The trouble was that I had a lot of ground to make up and the obstacle course was incredibly hard. It didn’t help that when I reached the top of the bar where Harriet had been forced to stop, the first of the magic waves hit me. No wonder she’d looked so annoyed. Someone, possibly Bellows, had conjured up a host of flying lizards. They were insubstantial and, when one flew directly at my face and its tail grazed my skin, I realised that they were more illusion than anything else. It didn’t mean that they weren’t bloody annoying at this height.
I clambered down, making a beeline for the mud pit. At the far end, three other contestants were still struggling to pull themselves out. As I edged forwards, a flaming streak of fire whooshed in my direction. It wasn’t magically induced, however; the fire came from canisters rigged at shoulder height along the side of the pit. Sneaky. What was the betting that they would be hidden from the camera’s view to make it appear as if more spells were being cast? It didn’t really matter. The fire was obviously working to a schedule. Flames of death. Beats of three. Flames of death. Beats of three. Even I could manage to escape this part.
The mud pit might be a different matter, although I vaguely remembered watching a science experiment on television involving a swimming pool and custard. At the time my focus had been on the poor sod who had to clean up the mess afterwards. However, there was something to be said for being a couch potato; that show might stand me in good stead now.
I decided to make a run for it. Counting under my breath I dashed across, picking up speed when I hit the mud to avoid sinking into it. It worked. The momentum – and something to do with the laws of physics – kept me going. I scampered across the surface, springing happily onto solid ground on the other side. That was how to do it.
I let out a crow of exultation then, remembering my promise to Barry, swivelled round to the three contestants who were still stuck and shouted, ‘In your face!’ It was mean and nasty and I felt more than a trickle of guilt but I needed to make sure I wasn’t thrown off the show.
Panting hard, and under no illusion about what Winter would say about my lack of fitness if he saw me now, I completed the last few obstacles. I was almost ready to collapse but I still had a way to go. I jogged forward, weaving in and out of the trees which I was sure had been placed there just to annoy me. I could see the Celtic-knot puzzle up ahead. Then a root came up out of nowhere and I went flying. Arse.
Heaving myself up and spitting out a mouthful of dirt, I ignored the cameras that were zooming in on my exasperated face and wiped my eyes. As I blinked away flecks of muck, something flitted across my peripheral vision. I half-turned, just in time to see something shoot behind one of the larger trees fifty metres or so away. It could have been an animal – but what it looked like was a human being with long straggly hair moving around on all fours.
I froze. Did I really just see that? I spun round towards the cameras but they were all pointed at me. Engaging the cameramen in conversation would be useless. First of all, they were under orders not to communicate; second, I reckoned I’d used up any goodwill I had with them. Another mutter about a hallucination and I’d be out on my ear.
Swallowing hard and trying to stay calm, I glanced back warily. There was no sign of any potential zombie. I edged to my right and peered round, catching a flash of dark clothing. Then there was a loud heaving grunt, not dissimilar to what I imagined a death rattle would sound like.
I raised my hands, ready to perform whatever defensive or offensive runes were required, when there was a ragged whoop from behind me. The zombie, if that’s what it was, rustled in alarm. I heard a single pant, like a breath, then the thing crashed away through the undergrowth. The three contestants who’d been stuck in the mud pit were oblivious. As they passed me, they continued to whoop, holding hands and beaming with muddy delight.
Rachelle, who was closest to me, turned in my direction. ‘This is what happens when you work together and when you’re nice to others,’ she sniped.
My jaw worked uselessly. Whatever I’d seen had already gone. The river was in that direction so maybe the bloody thing would drown. I could only hope.
‘Be as nice as you want,’ I shot back to them as they skipped away in front of me. ‘But just remember that only one person can win!’
They ignored me. I twisted away and stared back through the undergrowth. If this really was another undead necromantic being, I needed Winter and I needed him now.
Ch
apter Seventeen
In the end I came last, a very bedraggled last at that. The rest of the contestants clapped politely as my name, quite literally, went up in smoke. Then Belinda stepped forward and pointed at Harriet as the winner.
Despite my fear about what I may or may not have seen, I was surprised. She must have come ahead in the puzzle section. I raised my hands to clap then caught Barry frowning at me. I dropped my arms and pouted instead. Being mean was rather hard work.
The only saving grace was that we were given an hour’s break before voting. I knew that I’d be free from the cameras because, on screen, the transition between the challenge and the voting happened instantaneously. All the producers made a beeline for their contestants. No doubt this ‘break’ was to make sure that everyone voted the way they were supposed to.
‘Ivy!’ Barry stretched his arms out expansively. ‘Bad luck.’
I shrugged. ‘Whatever. I have to go.’
‘Huh?’
‘You want to talk strategy for the voting, right?’
‘Of course. What else is there?’
Bloodthirsty zombies lurking in the trees less than half a mile from here. ‘You’d be surprised,’ I murmured. ‘But either I’ll be voted out or I won’t be. Nothing else I do will make a difference now.’
‘Ivy…’
‘I have to go.’ I paused for a beat. ‘I’ve got my period.’
As expected, Barry blanched and backed off. I stalked away from him, my posture ramrod straight to ensure he didn’t come after me. Now all I had to do was hope that Winter had returned from his snooping.
Ignoring the crew members busying themselves rigging up the voting area, I swept along as if I knew exactly what I was doing. I couldn’t see Winter anywhere. Moonbeam, however, was coming straight towards me so I veered away and moved into the trees. I didn’t dare go far; after all, there might be a damn zombie lurking there. All the same, the last thing I needed now was to be drawn into yet another chat with Belinda’s plotting son.
Keeping to the fringes of the small wood, I looked desperately for Winter’s familiar form. I was so busy searching for him that I almost tripped up again. This time it wasn’t on a pesky tree root, however; it was Brutus.
‘What gives?’ I growled. ‘You abandon me as soon as I get here and now you’re trying to kill me?’
My cat yawned and began to wash himself. I scowled. I didn’t have time for this.
‘Magic man,’ Brutus said as I started to turn away.
I looked back. ‘You mean Bellows? Your new owner?’
I received a scathing look in response. Clearly, Brutus didn’t believe anyone owned him. In that, of course, he was absolutely correct. ‘Fish.’
I raised my hands helplessly. ‘Am I supposed to understand what that means?’
Brutus licked his lips. Given that he wasn’t using his usual refrain to demand food, I suddenly understood. ‘Oh. He gives you fish.’
‘Good fish.’ His whiskers quivered. ‘Give fish.’
I gazed at him in exasperation. ‘Do I look like I’m carrying a string of mackerel with me? Some familiar you are. You’re supposed to aid me in my magic quests, not piss off at the first chance of a deluxe meal.’
If Brutus could have shrugged, he probably would have. ‘Magic man no magic.’
Yeah, I probably wasn’t surprised at that. All the same, I wanted to double-check. ‘You’re sure?’ At least if Bellows possessed no real magical abilities, he could be struck off the list of necromancer suspects. That meant there were only about a hundred thousand people left to investigate if I included everyone in the town, all the outlying villages and the cast and crew involved in Enchantment. The way things were going right now, I had to take every success.
Brutus sniffed, as if he wouldn’t deign to answer. It was fine for him to repeat the same things over and over unnecessarily but when I asked him to do it for me, he took the hump. Contrary cat.
‘Bad man.’
I froze. ‘Trevor Bellows is a bad man?’
Brutus yawned again. Then he turned his head to the right. There was a rustle in the trees. The zombie. It had to have come back. I swallowed hard and flicked a warning glance at my cat. ‘Get back,’ I warned. ‘This could be bad.’
There was another rustle and Winter appeared. I exhaled loudly in relief. He stared at me. ‘What’s wrong? You look as white as a sheet.’
I opened my mouth to answer but Brutus got in there first. ‘Bad man,’ he said.
For a fleeting moment, Winter looked hurt. ‘Me?’
Brutus sighed and stood up, walking away with his tail waving violently in the air as if he couldn’t bear to be near either of us.
‘I think he meant Bellows,’ I said.
Winter’s mouth flattened into a grim line. ‘Then he’s right. Trevor Bellows is a very bad man indeed.’ He gave me a look filled with meaning that I couldn’t interpret then reached into his jacket and withdrew a small manila envelope. ‘Here,’ he said.
The expression on his face and the tone of his voice made me take the proffered envelope with considerable trepidation. Winter put his hands into his pockets and looked away whilst I slid out the contents and examined them. It was a series of glossy photographs, obviously taken in sequence.
I flipped through them, with the odd sensation that the last lingering vestiges of my childhood were being shattered in one swoop. I didn’t make it through all of them. Seeing the first few, of Belinda Battenapple in compromising positions involving nudity and a range of objects, including ropes, blindfolds and a lurid pink ball gag, I’d seen enough.
I breathed out. ‘Well.’
The tips of Winter’s ears were red. He was obviously embarrassed. He coughed awkwardly. ‘I didn’t take it but there was also an envelope stuffed full of cash and a note.’
‘What did it say?’
He sighed. ‘You’ve got what you wanted.’
I absorbed this. ‘So you think that Trevor Bellows has been blackmailing Belinda?’
‘That’s certainly what it looks like.’
‘Do you think he took the photos? Or did he come by them through other means?’
‘I don’t know. But we do need to speak to Bellows at his earliest convenience.’
I shook my head, as much in dismay as in a bid to get the images of Belinda out of my mind. ‘It’s horrid,’ I said, ‘and he’s clearly a bastard. But that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with dead bodies rising up from the ground. You should pass this on to the police and let them deal with it. It’s out of our remit.’
Winter grimaced. ‘It’s a strange world when you’re the one suggesting we do things by the book. Unfortunately I came by these during an illegal search. The police will have their hands tied. Unless Belinda herself makes a complaint, they can’t act.’
I cast my mind back, thinking of all the times I’d seen Belinda and Bellows together. ‘I’ve not noticed anything that suggests she despises him or that she’s scared of him. Truthfully, most of the time he seems completely beneath her attention. She’s the star and he’s just the hired help.’
‘This is assault, Ivy.’
I bit my lip. ‘Yeah,’ I said quietly. ‘I know.’
I heaved in a breath and told him about my failed efforts to steal Belinda’s vial from right under her nose – literally – followed by what I thought I’d seen in the woods. At my mention of another zombie-like creature, Winter stiffened. ‘You’re sure?’
I shrugged helplessly. ‘Given my recent hallucinatory episode, how can I be? I wasn’t alone and nobody else noticed anything. There’s still security all over the place. Even though this area is larger than the main set so they’re spread thinner, you’d think one of them would have seen something if there had been something to see.’ I pushed back my hair. But then Gareth had managed to sidle through without being spotted and without any great difficulty.
Winter rubbed his chin and dug out his phone. ‘This is Winter,’ he barked, as someone answ
ered. ‘You need to check out the graveyard. Find out whether any other graves have been disturbed. Everyone not at the graveyard needs to get to the current location where Enchantment is filming. There has been another possible sighting. If there is another exanimate body out there, we need to find it.’ There was a pause. ‘I don’t care. This is a priority.’ He hung up.
‘You have a less than charming phone manner,’ I said.
Winter rolled his eyes. ‘Do you want to call them back and ask them about the weather? Find out if they’re comfortable and getting enough sleep?’
I grinned. ‘No, I’m good. It wasn’t a criticism. More like an observation.’
‘Well those witches tasked with investigating the town could do with some criticism,’ he huffed. ‘They seem to be spending more time in the pub than doing any work. Apparently the most they’ve uncovered is that a couple of hundred years ago a family with very strong magical powers moved into the area. We already knew that. Until they can uncover something that’s not ancient history, their presence is nothing more than a waste of time.’
I patted his arm. ‘There, there. To be fair, we’ve not uncovered a whole lot either and we’ve been here for days. We’ve got access to everything on set and we’re still floundering.’
Winter grimaced. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s stop floundering and start swimming. Rather than confronting Bellows, let’s go and talk to Belinda. We’ll find out what on earth that thing is around her neck and ask her what Bellows is up to at the same time.’
‘You think she’s more likely to be honest if we’re trying to help her as well as accuse her?’
Winter raised a shoulder in a half-hearted response. ‘If there is another zombie then we don’t have much choice. If it reaches a populated area there will be carnage.’
‘Maybe you were right and we should have confronted her earlier.’
‘No. The more evidence we have the better. If she denied everything, she’d know we suspected her and we wouldn’t have any reason to detain her. This way we have an another angle.’ He sighed. ‘Even if it doesn’t feel right using it.’
