“This is my girlfriend, Rachel Kelly,” said Anders.
“Hello.” Rachel smiled as she freed herself from the scarf.
Anders continued, “And this is...”
“Bree Thorne,” said the second woman, her grip firm as she shook our hands before pulling out a chair. She took a seat at our table, sliding her jacket off and hanging it over the back of her chair. She was incredibly pretty with long blonde hair, almost white in hue, icy blue eyes, and very pale skin. Her hands were slightly rough, and her nails were chipped, like she was a manual labourer. She looked like a no nonsense type. “What brings you to this godforsaken place?” she asked without preamble.
“Didn’t Anders tell you?” I asked as Étoile made her own introductions, shaking first Anders’ hand, then Rachel’s. I was under no illusions that she was just being polite; she was checking them out.
“Mmm, but I thought you probably wouldn’t tell him everything after he pitched you into the mud.” She grinned suddenly, her eyes lighting up. “He has terrible manners.”
Anders scowled, but he didn’t look particularly unhappy. “Not true.” He reached into the rucksack he carried with him, pulling out some tubes of papers, which he laid on the table. “I’ve brought the plans you asked for. Bree knows the terrain around here better than anyone, so she wanted to come along.” He didn’t seem too happy about that.
“You’re not a witch,” I said, looking at her more closely.
“No, I’m not,” she replied, “I’m a nymph.”
The only nymph I could think of ended with “-omaniac,” and I was fairly certain that wasn’t why she looked so proud. “Oh?”
“A wood nymph. Traditionally, we live in forests, amongst the trees.”
Étoile looked as interested as I did. Anders said, “We’re very lucky to know Bree. Nymphs don’t reveal themselves often.”
“Why’s that?”
“We don’t like humans. The cut down trees and trample plants... They litter. The earth doesn’t like that.”
“We’re not all bad,” said Anders. “If we were, you wouldn’t do our gardening. Bree is a landscape gardener,” he added for our benefit. “She also knows all the paths and routes through the woods. She might help us find a better way through.”
“But not into Hawkscroft. I don’t like the magic there.”
“Why’s that?” asked Étoile.
“It’s not that it’s dark, it just seems confused. Like it knows it shouldn’t be there, but it can’t help itself.”
“You talk about it like magic has feelings.”
“Why shouldn’t it?” said Bree, her silvery hair sliding over her shoulders.
I didn’t know how to answer that, and apparently, neither did the other three witches sharing our table.
“Anders told us they’ve kidnapped a werewolf,” said Rachel, her voice purposefully soft as she leaned in.
I glanced across to Étoile. “Our friend,” I corrected her.
“And you’ve come to get her back?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. No one goes onto Hawkscroft land.” I waited for Rachel to say something like “and comes out alive” but she didn’t. Instead, she asked, “How do you think you’re going to get in? They never let anyone in, as far as I know.”
“I don’t know. We were hoping the plans would give us some clue.”
“Best take a look then,” said Rachel, reaching for the papers and unfolding them. “You’ll be wanting to go in sooner rather than later, I imagine, ‘specially with your friend in trouble.”
After we studied the plans Anders brought, we didn’t feel any wiser. The blueprints were old, showing the house as it would have been in the mid-nineteenth century. Despite the current zoning laws, since Hawkscroft was a listed historical building, we hoped that very little would have changed structurally.
Like many old country houses, Hawkscroft was a maze of work areas and living spaces. The kitchen led onto myriad smaller rooms; pantries or sculleries, I assumed, while the main living areas all sprang from one central hall. The plans marked a library, drawing room, and another reception room. Further along a corridor were a large dining room and several other rooms of indeterminate usage, Another corridor led to another set of smaller rooms. Upstairs was equally confusing with numerous rooms situated in each wing, every one branching from the central staircase.
Anders pointed out each exit. To the front, there were the main doors that I already discounted as being too overt. To the back, several sets of doors opened onto a terrace. The west side had a door, which led to a walled garden, while to the east, there was a tradesman’s entrance that meandered into the disused stable yard.
“Every entrance is guarded twenty-four hours a day,” explained Anders as he tapped his forefinger on each point of entry. “Even if one of us snuck in, it’s teaming with people inside.”
“There’s been a lot of comings and goings over the past couple of weeks. Most of us locals don’t like to go up that way, but we see the cars, of course,” added Rachel. “Sometimes they come down to the village. Some of the locals, the ones who aren’t in the know, think the owners just entertain a lot. Daft, if you ask me, why you’d want to entertain a bunch of scary fellas like that is beyond me.”
Étoile looked up sharply. “Do they ever come into the pub?”
“Now and again,” replied Anders. “But there isn’t a bit of magic in a single one of them. Unless they know who you are, you should be safe. You might want to keep the accent to yourself though. Not a lot of outsiders come through Hawksley.”
“Noted.”
“Would they keep Annalise in one of the upstairs rooms?” I asked, keen to get us back on track.
“Unlikely. If it were me, I would keep her out of sight until they know what to do with her, somewhere easy to guard,” suggested Bree.
“I’ve heard the house has a cellar,” mused Anders, shuffling through the papers looking hopeful that he might have plans for them too. “That would be a good place to keep someone. No windows, probably only one exit, dark. It would take minimal manpower to keep someone under guard there.”
“We need to confirm it.”
“We’ve tried everything to find out what’s in there, but we’ve never gotten anything. None of our charms seem to work, and the spells aren’t much good either. We haven’t wanted to dabble too far, in case someone realises we’re on to them.”
“I’m happy to give it a try, if you don’t mind?” suggested Étoile.
“We’d have to go up there.”
“It’s too light right now. You would need to wait for nightfall again,” said Rachel.
Étoile and I got a message on our phones at the same time from Gage saying he had landed and would be in Hawksley as soon as possible. There was nothing yet from Evan and, as it turned out, my phone was fine for receiving, but couldn’t send anything. It was as good as useless.
As it would be long past dark by the time Gage arrived, we made the decision to go and check out Hawkscroft before he got here. At least, then we might have some confirmation of where Annalise was being held, information that would help us plan her rescue.
“A friend of ours is on his way. I’d rather have something to tell him, than nothing,” I told them. My next question was for Anders, “Will you take us up there?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to stay long. One of their lot nearly caught one of ours a few nights ago. I’m not sure how often they patrol outside the walls so we’d have to keep very quiet. Bree? You in?”
He didn’t need to spell out that getting caught would be a catastrophe.
“Yes,” she agreed simply, “but perhaps we should approach a different way from where you normally keep watch?”
“Which way do you suggest?” asked Rachel.
“From the west. We’ll get a better view of the back, including the outbuildings and some of the front.”
“Wish you’d mentioned that a few weeks
ago,” said Anders. He started folding the plans away and stacking them.
Bree looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t ask. Besides it’s a longer walk. We should take one vehicle and leave it over here,” she pointed to a spot on a beer mat, her finger travelling around the logo in the centre as she added, “We’ll cross the woods this way, and arrive over here. It won’t take us more than an hour; and, if there’s anyone else in the woods, we can leave this way, by crossing the stream. The wood exits out onto fields here.”
“What time do we leave?” Rachel asked. “I’ve got work for the rest of the afternoon, but I can finish by five.”
“Let’s meet back here at sundown,” decided Anders and we each nodded our agreement.
Rachel got to her feet, winding her long scarf around her neck, pulling it up slightly to cover the back of her head. “See you later. Bye, sweetie.” She dipped her head to Anders, kissing him quickly, but long enough for me to feel the pang of missing Evan, even though it had been little more than twenty-four hours.
***
The five of us returned to Hawkscroft an hour after sundown. Anders left his car, a large, rumbling Land Rover Defender, in the pub car park and climbed into my rental, which was smaller and quieter. He took the passenger seat, directing, while Étoile, Rachel and Bree squashed into the back.
Parking in the same spot as I did the night before, we got out, shutting the doors lightly behind us, keeping our mouths shut even though it was unlikely anyone would hear us. Crossing the road, we walked the short distance to the woods, then followed Bree in single file as she pushed on, keeping to the country tracks that she knew so well, with only the single beam of her flashlight lighting the way. The further we travelled in, the more I realised there was no way I’d be able to find my way back on my own, so I kept in close file behind Bree, with Étoile right behind me, Anders and Rachel bringing up the rear.
After a while, Anders called to us to stop and we huddled in a circle. “We’re just going to look, okay?” he told us again. “Don’t do anything to attract attention and don’t put even a finger over that wall.”
“Then we’ll move around to the back of the house,” added Bree.
We nodded solemnly. A howl echoed in the darkness, somewhere in the distance, and Étoile and I looked at each other with grim expressions. I didn’t get the feeling we were alone in the woods anymore.
“Let’s go,” said Bree, turning off her flashlight.
“Wait!” Anders looked around, like he was searching for something. “I forgot. The watch earlier said there had been a lot of movement by the stable walls today. Let’s go around back instead. Like Bree said, we’ll be able to see more over there anyway.”
“Okay,” agreed Bree. Then to us, her silver hair almost glowing in the dark, “Stay close. The woods are more overgrown that way, but there’s some good vantage points. I’ll show you the patrol points too.”
As we walked, I counted twenty-seven things I’d rather be doing than this; Evan was items one, five, nine, thirteen and twenty. Not only was it cold, but also eerily quiet. The only noises I heard were the occasional squawk of a bird or snuffling in the undergrowth. At least, I knew there weren’t any dangerous, indigenous creatures out here, and the chances of stepping on a poisonous snake were so remote, most British people never saw one in their lifetime, never mind fell afoul of one. All the same, I kept on alert, aware that the howl we’d heard earlier might be a signal from the local wolves. Perhaps Gage had managed to get their support, I hoped, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to run into them tonight. It occurred to me, however, that at least, they would be familiar with Anders.
The going was tougher here, the trees knitting together, a tangle of bushes and thorns catching at my coat. Bree seemed to make her way through easily enough, as if the woods recognised her as one of their own and allowed passage for her. The rest of us should be so lucky.
“We’re heading west now,” said Bree, the murmur passing back through the line. “We’re also going to pass close to the wall before we can turn, so try not to make too much noise.”
We followed her, the path leading us so close to the wall that I caught sight of the house briefly before we swung right, and the path got wider. I heard the howl again, a mournful whine that seemed to carry through the woods and was returned by another.
I caught Étoile’s sleeve and tugged. “There are at least two wolves in the woods with us tonight,” I whispered and she nodded, putting a finger to her lips.
I quickly closed the gap I’d left between Bree and us. Her flashlight was off completely now, and it was getting difficult to see where to place my feet, or see overhanging, spindly branches until I was right on top of them. I checked my watch, the little hands glowing. We’d been walking for a good thirty minutes.
“Just a little further,” called Bree, loud enough that we could all hear. After another ten minutes of trampling in the dark, she stopped. “This is it. We can climb those trees there to take a look. They aren’t hard to climb.”
She scrambled up the nearest tree, her hands and feet sure as she used the branches for a ladder, hopping neatly up until she was around five feet from the ground. Securing herself, she called down, “The lights are on but I can’t see any patrols. They might be changing shifts.”
“Take that one,” said Rachel, nudging me and pointing towards a tree a few feet away. “It has lots of branches and you’ll be able to nestle against the trunk where those two branches fork.”
“If you look straight ahead you’ll have a great view of the rear of the house,” said Bree. “Hurry up.”
The tree was easier to climb than it looked and, with the exception of pulling off some bark (I didn’t dare look to see if Bree winced), I made it up quickly, sitting in the junction of the tree as I held onto one branch. A side door was open and I could just make out a couple of men who stood there. One had a cigarette in his mouth, the embers glowing red as he flicked it onto the grass. They seemed to be talking. I looked beyond them. Several windows were lit, the drapes undrawn and I could see people moving about and a number of screens. I couldn’t make out what was on the screens, but I assumed it was closed circuit television and this was some sort of operations room. After a few minutes, a man stood at the window, looking out, then he grabbed the drapes, shutting the room from view. Further to the left, what I assumed to be the walled garden blocked my view. I couldn’t be sure, as some of the people kept moving around, but I thought I counted ten men.
“I think I hear something,” said Anders, his voice somewhere off to my left. I squinted, looking for him and found him in a tree, Rachel close by his side. “I’m going to take a look.”
“Stay in the tree,” hissed Rachel. “No one comes out here. We’re mad to.”
“Just wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Anders clambered down nimbly and disappeared into the dark. I sat, immobilized, watching Hawkscroft. I didn’t see any patrols, which struck me as odd, but maybe they had cameras covering the grounds as backup.
After a few minutes, Anders came back. “There’s someone out there,” he said, beckoning us down. “Let’s go. I don’t want to run into whoever it is.”
“Could it be one of your coven?” asked Étoile.
“Unlikely. I told them all to stay away tonight. We weren’t finding anything out anyway.” He held his arms up to Rachel, catching her as she jumped from the last branch to the floor. “Did you see anything useful?”
“Only that we can hardly stroll across the grounds into the back,” said Étoile.
“There’s a control room in the corner on the right wing,” I added. “I think they were watching camera feeds.”
“Interesting. Let’s get out of here. Which way, Bree? We can’t go back the way we came.”
“This way then. We’ll have to cross a river, but it’s shallow.”
“Lead on,” said Étoile. Bree took off at a jog and we hurried along after her, falling quickly into single file again. We re
ached the bank quickly, standing shoulder to shoulder as we looked down. The river had shrunk back from its banks, leaving just a shallow strip of water.
“As soon as we get across, head straight and you’ll... shit!” Bree ducked as something whistled past our heads, thudding into a nearby tree. “Was that a...?” She stopped and shrieked. A shout echoed behind us, then I turned and saw figures rising, as though from the earth, taking lurching steps towards us.
“Go! Go! Go!” yelled Anders, no longer caring about being overheard as he pushed us, sending us scrambling down the banks. At the bottom, I tripped and fell, twisting my ankle as I struggled back to my feet. I was halfway up the bank when something grabbed my injured ankle causing me to cry out. Fingers dug into my flesh and yanked me backwards.
The last thing I saw, before falling into the darkness, was Étoile’s horrified face as she reached for me. Then hands were grabbing me, rolling me over, shouting. I remembered staring into a pair of narrowed brown eyes right before something very hard connected with my head, and the world went black.
Eleven
When I came to, I was lying on a stone floor, my cheek pressed uncomfortably against the tiles. Cranking open one eye felt like running a marathon: enormously challenging and utterly exhausting. My hair stuck in patches to my face and the cold had made its way through my layers to my bones, chilling me to the core.
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