by H. Y. Hanna
“Sorry about that,” James said as he came over to where she was sitting with Bran at her feet and Nibs playing with the mastiff’s tail. He glanced at her dress and said hesitantly, “Er... you seem...”
“I fixed it,” said Caitlyn, wishing that James could have witnessed it. Why was it that things always conspired so that he was never there to see when she managed to work magic successfully?
“Oh. Right.” He gave her another uncertain look, which made Caitlyn want to scream with frustration.
“So... um... so has Mr Ford left?” she asked, keen to change the subject.
“Yes. He calmed down after a stiff drink and says he will consider taking things up formally with the police.” James shook his head and laughed ruefully. “And here I was thinking I’d be coming back to some peace and quiet!”
“At least you’re not covered in bruises,” said Caitlyn wryly. “I really thought he was going to punch you in the face!”
“Yes, he was a bit emotional, wasn’t he?”
“A bit emotional?” Caitlyn choked back a laugh at the superb British knack of understatement. “The man was rabid! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with such an anger management problem.”
James laughed. “Well, let’s forget about him and try to salvage the rest of the evening. Why don’t we have some fresh tea or coffee—and I’m sure Mrs Pruett has prepared some delicious desserts.”
Caitlyn hesitated, then shook her head regretfully. “No, it’s getting late and I really should be getting back.” She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. I... I really enjoyed it.”
James returned her smile, his eyes warm. “Perhaps we can do it again soon.”
Caitlyn was about to reply when Nibs jumped up into her lap. The kitten was followed by Bran, who also tried to climb into Caitlyn’s lap.
“No... Bran, you can’t... you’re too big!” Caitlyn laughed, trying to shove the huge dog off her.
“Bran—stop that. Get off, you big oaf,” said James, exasperated, tugging on his collar.
Finally, with their combined efforts, they managed to shift the mastiff’s rear end enough that Caitlyn could wriggle out from underneath. Nibs crawled out as well and shook himself, his black fur standing up in spiky little tufts.
“I really don’t know how Nibs never gets squashed,” Caitlyn said, watching the kitten with admiration.
James chuckled. “Yes, you should hear the gasps of horror every time there is a new tour group visiting the Manor and they see Nibs with Bran for the first time. I suppose it’s only natural when you see such a tiny kitten with such an enormous dog.”
The reference to “tiny kitten” made Caitlyn remember something. “James—I’ve been meaning to ask you: have you noticed anything strange about Nibs?”
“What do you mean?”
Caitlyn hesitated. “Well... just... does he seem all right to you?"
James grinned as he looked at the baby cat. “He looks the picture of cheeky health, if you ask me. Why? Has he been acting unwell?”
“Oh no, nothing like that. It's just...” Caitlyn hesitated again, feeling a bit silly. “Well, do you feel like he's grown much?”
James tilted his head, eyeing the kitten. “Well, maybe not much—”
“I think he's hardly grown at all!” Caitlyn burst out. “At first I thought it was just my imagination or that he was slow catching up, because he was very small and undernourished when we rescued him... but it's been nearly three months now since that day, and surely he should have grown at least a little bit? He looks the same as the day I brought him home.”
James took the kitten from Caitlyn and held Nibs up so that he could look at him from different angles.
“Hmm... Now that you mention it, he does seem to be very small. I suppose I never really noticed because I’ve never had a cat before and didn’t really know what to expect...” James paused, then brightened and said, “Listen, the vet is coming over to Jeremy Bottom’s farm tomorrow to have a look at the cows. Why don't you take Nibs over there to be checked over? Liddell’s a good man. I'm sure he’d be very happy to have a look and see if there’s anything to worry about.”
“Thanks, that’s a great idea,” said Caitlyn, giving him a grateful smile. “I'll do that.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“RISE AND SHINE, SLEEPYHEAD!”
Caitlyn's eyelids fluttered open and she squinted as someone yanked back the curtains in her bedroom. Then she sat bolt upright as she saw the young woman standing at the foot of her bed. It was her American cousin, Pomona Sinclair.
Pomona’s mother had been the sister of Caitlyn’s late adoptive mother, Barbara Le Fey, and the two girls were as close as sisters themselves, despite their differences of personality. Unlike Caitlyn, Pomona was bubbly, confident, and proud of her generous curves, flaunting them in glamorous, revealing outfits. She was wearing an outrageous dress of red velvet which, despite being modestly laced up to her neck at the front, was so tight that it clung to every inch of her body and left nothing to the imagination. Coupled with a pair of black leather boots and a faux-fur wrap, she looked completely out of place in the rustic little attic bedroom.
Still, Caitlyn was delighted to see her and sprang out of bed to give the other girl a hug. “Pomie! When did you get back?”
“Late last night. Omigod, Caitlyn, I thought I was gonna be stuck driving in the dark forever! I came off the highway—you know, what they call the ‘M40’—and I was sure I knew the way—I mean, I’ve driven it, like, a billion times this summer, right? But somehow I went the wrong way, so I stopped at this gas station and there was, like, this really cute guy at the register. He gave me some directions... and his number—” Pomona grinned. “—and I’m sure I followed them exactly but I just got totally lost again! I was, like, driving around and around, and I couldn't find the side road into Tillyhenge. Seriously, I must have driven up and down the same road, like, six times before I saw it. It was just suddenly there and I don’t know how I could have missed it before!”
“That's happened to me too," said Caitlyn, stifling a yawn. “It’s almost as if the route into the village is hidden by some kind of enchantment. It's one of the many weird things about Tillyhenge, you know, like not being able to see the village on a satellite map—”
“Yeah, and the crappy internet and cell phone reception,” said Pomona, making a face. “That’s the most annoying!”
“I'm so happy to see you, Pomie. You’ve been gone ages!”
“Hey, it’s only been a couple of days—”
“More than a couple," Caitlyn protested. “You said you were just popping down to London for a day or two to do some shopping, and then you ended up staying nearly two weeks! And all I got was a vague text saying you had stuff to do?”
Pomona gave a secretive smile. "Well, I did. Or rather, I had someone to do stuff with...” She paused, dragging out the suspense, then she burst out, beaming: “Thane’s back in town!”
Caitlyn frowned. “Thane Blackmort?”
Her heart sank. She had been delighted when the enigmatic billionaire had departed overseas on one of his mysterious business trips and had hoped that he wouldn’t return to England for some time. Even though she had met him only once, something about that man gave her the creeps. It wasn't just the fact that he had appeared suddenly out of nowhere as one of the richest men in the country, with nobody seeming to know anything about him, or even his weird habit of dressing all in black, only drinking black vodka, and travelling around in a black private jet. No, there was an aura about the man, something that hinted at a great menacing power...
Most of all, she didn't like his effect on Pomona. She was sure that her cousin seemed different when Blackmort was around. Of course, she knew that Pomona had always been attracted to “bad boys”—back in Hollywood, where her cousin had grown up, Pomona had dated one wild-child rocker and celebrity rebel after another. But Caitlyn couldn’t help feeling that Thane Blackmort was in a diffe
rent league. This wasn’t just playing with fire—this was stepping into an inferno.
Still, she’d noticed that Pomona got very defensive if Blackmort was ever criticised—in fact, they’d already nearly had a fight once because of him. So she forced a smile and said, in as neutral a voice as she could manage:
“I thought Blackmort was going to be away for a long time.”
“Yeah, me too—which is why it was so awesome when I got the message from him! In fact, he invited me to stay at his London penthouse.”
Caitlyn stared at her cousin. “You mean... you've been living with Blackmort these past two weeks?”
Pomona rolled her eyes. “For Pete’s sake, Caitlyn—you sound like an outraged maiden aunt or something! I was hardly living with him; I was just staying over at his place. And, man, you won’t believe this place! I mean, I’ve been in some pretty flashy penthouses in New York but holy guacamole, this is, like, a whole ’nother level! There are crystal chandeliers and Sahara Noir marble floors... this huge bespoke kitchen... an indoor swimming pool with a retractable roof, as well as a Jacuzzi, massage room, a sauna... and then there’s, like, a private rooftop terrace and the main living room’s got vaulted ceilings and panoramic views across London... oh, and there’s a really cool wrought-iron spiral staircase up to the private quarters... plus there are priceless works of art and sculptures everywhere...” Pomona sighed, her eyes dreamy. “You gotta come and see it sometime!”
No thanks, thought Caitlyn. But aloud she said, “Does it have a lot of bedrooms?”
“Yeah, six, I think.” Pomona gave her a mischievous look. “But, of course, Thane’s got a huge king-sized bed with plenty of room for two... or three... or four...”
“Pomie!” gasped Caitlyn.
“What?” Pomona shot her a saucy grin. “Aw, come on, Caitlyn! Don’t tell me you think I just hold hands with all the boys on dates?”
“No... well, of course not,” said Caitlyn, flushing. “But—”
“Oh, and the parties—they were so freaking awesome!” Pomona carried on. “Omigod, the food, the entertainers, the guests... Thane threw this party on his rooftop terrace two nights ago and you should have seen some of the costumes. They were so realistic! I could have sworn that some of the guests were really demons! There was this one woman who called herself a succubus and man, she really did look like one!”
“What’s a succubus?” asked Caitlyn, frowning. “A kind of witch?”
“Well, they’re not really witches, like you and Bertha and the Widow Mags; they’re more like female demons who seduce men and, you know, suck the ‘life force’ out of them...” Pomona waggled her eyebrows and grinned lasciviously at the words “life force”. “Anyway, she wasn’t really a succubus, of course—she was just a woman dressed up like one. But seriously, man, she looked exactly like this illustration I saw once of the Night Hag—hey! Speaking of which, have you found the hag stone yet?”
Caitlyn made a face and shook her head. “No. I’ve searched all over the cottage garden but I haven’t been able to find it. I don’t understand, Pomie—I was so sure I remembered the exact spot where it fell when Nibs knocked it from my windowsill, but I’ve practically excavated that garden bed and I still can’t find it!”
“That’s ’cos it’s a hag stone,” said Pomona sagely. “I told you, remember? Legend says you can’t find hag stones—the stones find you. You can spend all day, like, combing the beach for one... and then when you’re not looking, one turns up on your doorstep.” She shrugged. “You’re just gonna have to wait until the stone wants to be found.”
“But how long will that be? Pomie, I was so close to finding out what the symbols on my runestone mean!” said Caitlyn in frustration. “I looked at them, like you suggested, through the hole in the hag stone, and I saw the symbols transform! They sort of uncurled and reformed into letters and words—but I barely got a chance to read a couple before Nibs knocked the stone out of my hands.” She clenched both fists. “Ooooh! Sometimes I want to kill that kitten!”
Pomona laughed. “You don’t really mean that. You adore him. And he was only playing like a normal kitten.”
The words reminded Caitlyn of something and she asked, “Pomie, do you think Nibs is normal?”
“What d’you mean? Of course he’s normal.”
“No, I mean... haven’t you noticed that he doesn't seem to be growing?”
Pomona tilted her head to one side as she pondered. "Well, he is kinda small... but are you sure it’s not just your imagination?”
Caitlyn shook her head. “No, there’s something odd. It’s almost as if... well, I know this sounds crazy, but it’s almost as if he’s frozen in time.”
“You’re right—that does sound crazy, even coming from a witch,” said Pomona, grinning.
Caitlyn raised her eyebrows. “You’re the one who’s usually quick to believe any paranormal phenomena.”
“Yeah, but this isn’t some magical phenomenon—this is just a teeny cat! I mean, sometimes things just don’t grow, right? Like... remember Stefano Mancini from school? He was always shorter than the other boys and guess what, I met him at a party last year—and he hadn’t grown an inch since fifth grade! He’d just remained this itty-bitty guy.” Pomona paused, then added with a nostalgic smile: “Great kisser, though. He might be lacking in the height department but holy guacamole, he more than made up for it in the—”
“Pomie!”
“Okay, okay—I’m going,” laughed Pomona as she made for the bedroom door. “Anyway, I came up to tell you to hurry up and get dressed. The Widow Mags is making some of her famous chocolate hazelnut butter and she wants us to help.”
“Oh... I’d love to, but I just remembered: I need to pop over to Jeremy Bottom’s place first.”
“The dairy farmer? Why?”
“The vet will be there this morning and I want to take Nibs to see him.”
“Well, you’d better hurry up and get back or you’re going to miss out on all the delicious, velvety chocolate hazelnut goodness!”
CHAPTER NINE
CAITLYN ARRIVED AT the dairy farm to see one of her favourite animals standing in the field next to the farmyard: an enormous black bull named Ferdinand. Just like his namesake, Ferdinand was a gentle soul and he’d suffered for a while because his soft nature hadn’t done much to impress the bovine ladies. In fact, the cows had completely ostracised him, leaving him moping in a lonely corner of the field, and this had been a big headache for Jeremy Bottom, who had got the bull as a breeding stud for his herd. Thankfully, though, with the help of some misplaced love potion, the cows had come to appreciate a bull who was more a lover than a fighter, and Ferdinand was now happily at home in the herd. In fact, Caitlyn had even heard that there were some calves on the way!
Now she went up to the fence and smiled in delight as Ferdinand came plodding up to her. He shoved his enormous head into her chest, mooing happily as she scratched him between the ears.
“Hello, sweetie...” cooed Caitlyn, laughing as he blew gustily down her top. “I thought you’d be more macho, now that you’re a man of the herd—but it looks like you’re still a big baby!”
“MOO-OO-OO...” said Ferdinand, nuzzling her with such force that she nearly toppled over.
Caitlyn laughed again, then glanced around to see if she could find Jeremy Bottom anywhere. She spotted the farmer on the far side of the field beyond the one that Ferdinand was in. He was with David Liddell, the veterinarian, and they were both bent over, examining a cow. Jeremy saw her and raised a hand in salute, then pointed to the farmhouse, and Caitlyn nodded, understanding the invitation to go inside and wait for him. She gave Ferdinand a final pat, then made her way to the farmhouse, lugging the cat carrier with her.
Once inside, she hesitated in the front hall. Jeremy had always been one of the few villagers who was friendly to the Widow Mags, ignoring the vicious rumours about her and treating her with courtesy and respect. His sister Vera, however, was a very diff
erent kettle of fish. A sour, narrow-minded spinster who lived with her widowed brother and kept house for him, Vera made no secret of her fear and hatred of witchcraft and magic. In fact, now that she thought about it, Caitlyn seemed to remember seeing Vera amongst the group of villagers who had arrived on the hillside yesterday to harangue Minerva Chattox.
So although this was really Jeremy’s home, Caitlyn was a bit uncertain of her welcome. She froze as she heard voices coming from a doorway down the hall and recognised Vera’s sharp tone amongst them. She was just wondering if it would be better to wait outside when her ears pricked at some of the words drifting out of the open doorway:
“...bad enough with that old woman in the chocolate shop and that batty daughter and granddaughter of hers...”
Her interest piqued, Caitlyn set Nibs’s carrier down and tiptoed closer to the open doorway. It led into the sitting room and, as she peeked around the edge of the doorjamb, she saw that Vera was sitting with a group of women, gossiping over tea and cakes.
“...but now we have to put up with a witch flaunting herself in broad daylight!”
“It’s disgusting! Did you hear that she’s offering to cast custom spells for people? Hexes and love charms and all sorts of dreadful things.”
“Oh my goodness, yes! You know, my neighbour, Mrs Coleman, told me this morning that she caught her daughter Janine sneaking out yesterday and when she questioned her, the girl admitted that she was on her way to join the group with Minerva Chattox up at the stone circle. She had even taken all her pocket money and was planning to use it to buy a love spell!”
There were gasps of shock and outrage, and Vera’s voice rose, even more strident than before.
“We simply cannot let this continue! She will corrupt our children and bring misfortune on our community with her black magic and witchcraft.”
