by Helen Harper
I remained cautious, however, and stayed in place so that Alistair wouldn’t get suspicious and attack. He already had necromancy to his name; there was no telling what other magical abilities he could boast of. I was determined not to give him the chance.
When he turned back to face me, he was holding a long-bladed knife. There was a bleat and I realised that a few graves away there was a tied-up sheep: Alistair’s Plan A before Gareth and I had foolishly presented ourselves. He brandished the knife and for one horrified second I thought he was going to plunge it into one of us. Then he lifted it up and sliced the back of his own hand, blood immediately welling up along the cut. He held his hand aloft.
‘See?’ he declared. I peered through the gloom and relief washed through me. Alistair’s blood looked as natural as mine. The necromantic magic hadn’t taken him over just yet. There was still time. ‘This is proof that you’re lying. My blood is as red as yours. But it’s yours that will be spilt this night.’
Not if I had anything to do with it. Unable to waste any more time and regardless of the consequences, I raised my hands and threw out an attack rune. This one was designed to take no prisoners.
Alistair let out a high-pitched cry, one hand going immediately to his throat as his windpipe closed off. He dropped the knife and it fell to the ground with a dull thud. If I’d thought he was going to give up because he couldn’t breathe, however, I was sorely mistaken. Still scrabbling to breathe, he ducked his head and barrelled towards me just as I got up to my feet.
Despite my best efforts to avoid cramp, I was wobbly enough to sway and half collapse on one knee, allowing Alistair the time he needed to smack into my chest and knock me down on top of Gareth. I couldn’t maintain my hold on the magic and Alistair’s breath was released. He spun round for another attack but his magic was too clumsy.
I flung out a ward rune, creating a protective barrier around both Gareth and me. Alistair rammed into it but he didn’t know of any way to break it down apart from brute force. It held, shimmering in the night air.
He let out a curse and spat. Then he turned once more and walked over to the knife. He picked it up, his finger touching the tip of the blade as if to test it.
‘Ivy,’ Gareth said in a strained voice.
‘Shhh.’ My attention was on Alistair. When he made a beeline for the sheep, I hissed and dropped the ward. I stalked forward, throwing a rune out behind me to loosen Gareth’s bonds. ‘Leave the animal alone, Alistair.’
The sheep bleated, as if it knew what was coming.
‘Everything else is ready,’ he muttered. ‘I just need the blood and the words and then I can set Morag free.’
‘Morag is at peace,’ I told him. ‘She’s no longer there. What lies beneath that headstone is just a shell.’ In fact, surely she was nothing more than bones by this point. Even if he did bring back to claw her upwards, I reckoned her skeleton would collapse before it took a single step. At that point, though, it wasn’t Morag’s corpse that worried me it was what would happen with Alistair’s magic if he succeeded.
Alistair started to mutter as the night itself filled with his power. It was so strong I could almost taste it. It was now or never.
There was a faint whoosh of air on my nape and Gareth burst forward. He tackled Alistair and they both fell to the ground. I darted forward to grab the knife but they rolled away from me, grunting – and then the entire area was bathed in bright light. What the hell?
Both Alistair and Gareth froze, as startled by the light as I was. A voice boomed out and I spotted several shadowy figures towards the end of the line of graves. ‘Keep going! Don’t stop because we’re here!’
Morris Armstrong. And not just him: there was a cameraman, pointing the lens in our direction, and the white faces of both Barry and Amy staring at us.
‘This is not a damned television show!’ I yelled.
‘You’re right!’ Armstrong called back. ‘This is better!’ I heard him mutter an aside to Barry ‘Enchantment might be down the toilet but with this kind of footage our careers aren’t over. Not by a long shot.’
I briefly closed my eyes. This was all my fault; this was what I got for trying to warn them what was happening. The idiots had probably put their numbskull brains together to discuss what I’d told them and decided to track Barry’s car. I’d have thought Amy would have known better. Their interference was the last thing any of us needed.
Fortunately Gareth recovered quickly. Taking full advantage of Alistair’s shock, he lunged desperately for his hand and wrestled the knife from him. Gripping it tightly, he sprang to his feet and backed away. ‘You don’t need to do this, Alistair. You don’t want to do this.’
I walked up to Gareth’s side. ‘Give me the knife.’
‘An hour ago you were going to kill me, Ivy.’ He didn’t look in my direction.
‘I’m sorry.’ My words fell hollow. ‘There wasn’t any choice.’
‘So you’re going to kill Al instead? He’s just a kid.’
I reached over and took the knife from him, relieved that he let it go. ‘Just a kid who’s bullied you. Who was prepared to kill you. Who has hurt your sheep.’
‘He’s a teenager.’
‘That doesn’t excuse him.’
Gareth’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘There’s still hope for him. He’s only fifteen.’
I passed a hand across my eyes. Gareth was right: Alistair was just a kid. Who was I to pass judgment on him? I’d done things I wasn’t proud of when I was that age. I defied anyone to put their hand on their heart and say they’d been teenage angels. But what Alistair was doing was different to a few childish shenanigans. This wasn’t a bit of graffiti or drinking alcohol or breaking a window.
‘I don’t need you to stand up for me,’ Alistair yelled at Gareth.
‘He’s a child, Ivy.’
I sighed.
Gareth persisted. ‘Our parents haven’t been any kinder to him than they were to me. He’s desperate to prove himself and he wants attention. He’s not evil.’
I had my doubts about that. I stared at Alistair, looking past the furious bravado. Immature eyes looked back at me with a mixture of fear and defiance.
‘Give him a chance,’ Gareth urged.
‘It’s not as simple as that,’ I whispered. I knew what I had to do.
‘Ivy…’
I raised my hand to hush him. Alistair was on the edge of being consumed by the magic he’d unleashed but his blood was still red. He’d not gone so far that his death wouldn’t contain the power. If he’d pushed ahead with trying to raise Granny Morag it would have been too late but he’d not managed it. And he couldn’t have known what horror his actions would have created. Except … he knew what had happened to Benjamin Alberts. His zombie had done that. A man had died as a result of this child, whether he’d intended that death or not.
I pulled out the incantation scroll from under my shirt and unfurled it. Then I glanced at Gareth. ‘You need to promise me that you’ll get him help. That you’ll do everything in your power to stop him from using magic without appropriate supervision.’
‘I will.’
‘He can’t stop me!’ Alistair shouted. ‘No one can stop me!’
‘I promise, Ivy,’ Gareth said, ignoring his brother’s rant. ‘I’ll speak to the Order first thing in the morning and we’ll get him what he needs. He’s an angry young man but I know his heart is good.’
I still wasn’t convinced but I knew I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t kill a kid. ‘If he hurts anyone else, with or without magic…’
‘He won’t.’
‘Ask for Raphael Winter. He has the patience of a saint. If anyone can help Alistair then he can.’ I took a deep breath. And then I started to read. ‘Per potestas penes me iubes me in magica.’
‘What is she doing?’ Alistair screeched. ‘What is that witch doing?’
‘Et tollet a vobis eo quod habetis.’ Goosebumps rose up along the length of my body.
; Morris Armstrong nudged Barry in the ribs. He coughed in response and opened his mouth. ‘Ivy!’ He started forward then, when Alistair flung an irate look in his direction, seemed to think better of it and fell back again. ‘Can you tell us what you’re doing? What kind of spell is this?’
‘Ego relinquam vos…’ My heart rate increased just as Alistair clutched at his own chest.
‘What are you doing?’ Gareth shouted. ‘You’re hurting him!’ He grabbed hold of my arm but I shoved him away.
‘…et irrumabo magicae…’
Alistair let out a high-pitched scream. My knees trembled as my veins filled with power. I could feel it surging through me. Everything else around me dimmed and there was a dull roar in my ears. I sensed Gareth yelling again and Armstrong, Barry and Amy shouting. I dismissed them all. I was almost done.
‘…intrinsecus cava erat.’ The scroll fell from my hand. Magic thrummed through me and I felt my body being lifted upwards. I stretched out arms as far as they could go. Dying wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, with the euphoria that was coursing through me and increasing, I could have started to enjoy it. Of course, that was exactly when the pain started.
My little toe tingled. Then it hurt. It wasn’t like a stubbing your toe kind of pain, it was more like the pain that would make me saw my entire foot off just to get it to stop. My mouth opened in a silent scream as the pain began to move, travelling up my leg and spreading up and up and up. I was on an all-encompassing rollercoaster ride of screeching, mind-numbing physical anguish. It ripped through my body and my muscles jerked impossibly in every direction. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of my chest.
From beyond Armstrong and his little group, I thought I saw Winter sprinting towards us through the gloom and the graves like a demon on speed. Hallucination or otherwise, I still managed to smile. That man really ought to learn the pleasures of a slow stroll.
‘I love you,’ I whispered.
‘Goodness,’ said the disembodied head of Benjamin Alberts’ floating next to me. ‘And we’ve only just met.’
For a very long time after that, I was aware of nothing else at all.
Epilogue
Bellows was shaking. It might have been with anger or it might have been with fear. Either way, Winter didn’t really care. ‘You abused your position to take advantage of several younger women. You assaulted them.’
‘Nobody said no!’
‘Oh, I think we’ll find they did.’ Winter leaned forward. ‘You tout yourself as a magical consultant. You pass yourself off as a witch. That means we can try you under Order jurisdiction, rather than the normal courts.’ He allowed himself a small smile. ‘Our methods and punishments are somewhat … harsher.’
Bellows blinked and paled. ‘I’m not in the Order! I’m not even a witch! I barely have any magic at all!’
‘That’s not what you tell everyone.’
‘I’m lying!’
Winter knitted his fingers together in satisfaction. ‘Indeed you are.’ He eyed Bellows. ‘Why are you using necromancy?’
‘What?’
‘You’re raising the dead, Trevor. You’re responsible for at least one death.’
Bellows bolted to his feet. ‘I bloody well am not! Okay, I blackmailed Belinda. Okay, I might have seduced some of the crew members. But I have never tried to raise a corpse!’
Winter’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Seduced? Is that what you’re calling sexual assault?’
Bellows began to bluster and babble. Winter would have stayed to listen but frankly he’d had more than enough. Trevor Bellows was a bastard and he deserved to be locked up for a very long time but Winter knew that when he’d denied the necromancy, he’d been telling the truth. Bellows’ alarm was genuine.
Winter wasn’t surprised. Regardless of what Ivy had suggested, the sleazy supposed witch simply didn’t have the magic to pull off those kinds of spells. He stood up and walked out while Bellows continued to talk. Plonker, as Ivy would say.
Out in the corridor, a familiar floppy-haired witch pushed himself off the wall and bounded forward. ‘Adeptus Exemptus Winter! How’s the interrogation going?’
Winter glared at Tarquin Villeneuve. ‘Fine.’ He pushed past him. Dawn wasn’t far off and he could do with a few hours’ sleep before he went to check on Ivy. The last thing he needed was this idiot getting in his way.
‘Wait! There’s something I have to tell you!’
Winter rolled his eyes and halted, reluctantly turning round. ‘What?’
‘I made that vial. The one Belinda Battenapple had round her neck.’
‘I know. So what?’
Villeneuve was nonplussed. ‘Well, my talent is obvious. I think I would be an excellent candidate for Arcane Branch. In fact, I have a few ideas for questions you should ask Mr Bellows.’
‘Good for you. But Arcane Branch is full. I suggest you put your … talents to use elsewhere.’
Villeneuve thrust out an arm to stop him from moving away. Winter stared at it in astonishment. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’
‘You need to listen to me, Adeptus. I don’t know what Ivy has said about me but I can assure you that I have nothing but integrity and…’
Winter sighed. ‘Shut up.’
Villeneuve gave him a knowing wink. ‘You like her, don’t you?’
Winter growled, ‘What are you wittering on about?’
‘Ivy.’ Villeneuve smiled, flashing white, even teeth. ‘I can understand it. She does have a certain allure, doesn’t she? And I can tell you from personal experience that blondes definitely do have more fun.’
Winter bunched up his fists. Unfortunately, Villeneuve wasn’t done and clapped him on the back as if they were the best of friends.
‘I’m prepared to step out of your way and let you have her. It’s the least I can do for an Adeptus Exemptus like yourself. Of course,’ he added, ‘I wouldn’t expect anything in return. You wouldn’t have to put in a good word for me at Arcane Branch. Not that it wouldn’t be welcome but I believe in hard work and earning the position I deserve.’
Any second now, Villeneuve would receive exactly the position he deserved. ‘You will step out of the way,’ Winter demanded in a tone that would have sent almost anyone else – Ivy included – running for cover.
‘Sure. Anyone with half a brain can see how much you like her. It’s the way your eyes follow her when you think she’s not looking.’ Villeneuve’s smile changed to a smirk, as if suggesting that something lascivious went through Winter’s mind every time Ivy appeared.
‘Maybe,’ Winter said through his rising anger, ‘Ivy would like to decide for herself. Maybe I don’t need you to step out of the way and neither does she.’
‘Whoa, chillax, Adeptus! It was just a suggestion.’
Chillax? Was that even a word? Winter had never been prone to violence but he was itching to wipe the smile off Villeneuve’s face. He took a deep breath, counted to three, then turned and started to walk away again.
‘Did you ask Trevor Bellows about the spells he’s been practising in between filming?’ Villeneuve called.
Goddamnit. Winter stopped. This time he didn’t waste his time turning. ‘What spells?’
‘You should ask him. All I know is that he’s been punching above his weight and trying things he should know better than to attempt. He’s still in the interrogation room. The police won’t mind if you speak to him again.’
Something was going on here – and Winter didn’t think it had anything to do with Trevor Bellows. He decided he’d shake the truth out of Ivy’s stupid ex-boyfriend and damn the consequences.
‘Meow.’
He glanced over. Brutus had appeared in an open window to the left and was peering at Winter with an uncharacteristic wide-eyed stare.
Abandoning Villeneuve, Winter strode over. ‘What is it? Is it Ivy? Is she alright?’
Villeneuve chuckled. ‘You’re not expecting the cat to answer, are you?�
�
‘Man,’ Brutus said. ‘Go.’
‘Go where? The hotel?’ Terror coursed through Winter’s veins.
Villeneuve stared. ‘Did you throw your voice, Adeptus?’
Brutus gave him a withering look and returned his attention to Winter. ‘Ivy is positioning herself in severe and immediate jeopardy. She has departed the hotel in order to locate some local human named Gareth and is under the impression that she will not return from this encounter. One might suggest that you leave this place post haste and go to her aid.’
Shit, shit, shit. ‘Where exactly did she go, Brutus?’
‘A farm. I believe the name is McAllan? If she does not discover her quarry there, she believes he will be at the cemetery. She departed over an hour ago. You must hurry.’
Brutus was still talking when Winter sprinted for the door. Villeneuve started to shout, ‘Wait! You can’t go! Ivy doesn’t want you to!’ There was a pause. ‘Ouch! You’ve pierced through my damn flesh! You bloody cat, what did you do that for?’
Winter burst outside just as his phone started to ring. Thinking it might be Ivy, he answered it.
‘This is Iqbal,’ Ivy’s friend burst out in a rush. ‘Something’s wrong. We keep trying to get hold of Ivy. She left a message asking about someone named Gareth. His counsellor is a friend of my ex and … never mind. She called me because Ivy’s not picking up. She said that Gareth’s a good guy but she’s worried about his family. There’s a brother. Stepbrother or adopted brother or something like that. I don’t know. Adeptus, you have to get to Ivy now. I think something’s happening. I think…’
‘I’m on my way,’ Winter ground out. ‘I’m on my way now.’ He ran even faster.
Every time he reached a red light, Winter flicked a rune out towards it and changed it to green. He’d never normally condone such behaviour even in an emergency but this was different. Ivy was different. When he got hold of her, he’d throttle her. Then he’d hug her and kiss her. After that he might tie her up to ensure she never did anything like this again.
