by Tegan Maher
“What kind of dog is—”
A thunder of footsteps drowned out my words. I stepped out of the way, just in time to avoid being trampled as Alissa’s relatives swarmed into our flat.
“Blair is my flatmate and the newest witch in town,” Alissa told the guests.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I introduced myself over and over again, doing my best to remember each new guest. Given the way my memory for names and faces usually worked, it looked as though I’d be calling everyone ‘hey, you!’ for the next couple of days.
When the door closed and the small living room was filled to capacity, I found myself wedged in a corner with a curly-haired witch called Aunt Cerys. I wasn’t entirely sure whether she was actually Alissa’s aunt or if she just went by that name to everyone.
“So, what’s your specialist area?” she asked.
“Um…” I said. “I don’t have one yet. I just moved to Fairy Falls.”
“Oh, I had a second cousin once who didn’t specialise. I believe she ended up working in a shoe shop.” She dropped her voice, as though it was the most distasteful thing in the world.
I could already see why Alissa had faced this visit with trepidation. Her aunts and uncles seemed to have an endless list of achievements between them, as though being the granddaughter of the head of the Meadowsweet Coven wasn’t enough to live up to. I was starting to understand why she’d had a wild rebellious phase in her teens and early twenties.
“Blair has a unique ability,” Alissa told Aunt Cerys, who turned to me with an expectant look on her face.
“I… I can tell when people are lying.” I could do more than that, but I’d rather not go into detail in front of an audience of strangers, even my best friend’s family. “I can also sense what type of paranormal someone is by looking at them.”
“Can you?” Aunt Cerys beamed. “Right, let’s give that a go. What am I?”
“A witch.” Everyone in the room was a wizard or witch, as far as I could tell, so my paranormal-sensing power didn’t get much of a workout.
“Can’t you go any more specific?” she said, in disappointed tones.
“Uh. No.” For most people, that was more than enough, but it seemed I’d need a far more impressive power to impress this lot.
“Shame,” said Aunt Cerys. “I met someone once who could pinpoint a talent down to the parent who passed it along…”
As she rambled on, I scanned the others in the room. Witch, witch, witch—
My ability ground to a halt, my gaze snagging on a dark-haired woman who sat in the corner beside the Christmas tree with a bored expression on her face. “Who’s she? She’s not a witch.”
Aunt Cerys followed my line of sight. “Oh, Lily? She’s a necromancer.”
I swivelled back to face her. “She’s what?”
“Most of us have some degree of healing ability, but occasionally, the gift reverses itself,” she said. “She gave up practising the craft years ago, don’t worry.”
I’d thought necromancy was illegal, but witches and wizards had no control over their innate talents. My paranormal-and-lie-sensing powers always ran in the background, whether I wanted them to or not.
The woman with the giant dog gave a loud snort. “Gave it up? More like it gave her up. Hopeless, that one. If I had a gift like that, I’d use it.”
“Blair, this is Aunt Jeanie,” said Alissa. “She’s… my second cousin’s aunt, technically. She’s in charge of cooking the turkey.”
“Uh-huh.” Reading between the lines, this Aunt Jeanie was the one person aside from Sammi who didn’t have a doctorate—except for me, that is. And the cats, though Sky wouldn’t appreciate it if I brought him up. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Her dog growled at me, its red eyes glowing as bright as the baubles on the tree.
“He doesn’t like you,” said Aunt Jeanie.
Good to know. “Uh, what breed of dog is he?”
“Hellhound, of course,” she said.
“Right. What else?” I’d rather hang out with Aunt Cerys of the million PhDs than stay on the receiving end of a glare from a dog with demonic eyes, so I escaped into the crowd and found myself cornered by a professor type with so many letters after his name that you could have stuck him in an envelope and posted him to Santa. He spent ten minutes telling me about his thesis while I tried to fix on a suitably awed expression. Luckily, Alissa came to my rescue.
“Blair, you look like you have toothache,” said Alissa. “Also, what time are we on? Don’t you need to leave soon?”
“Oh.” I checked the time. “Yeah, I should go to the office before…” Before I lost my mind. “…Before I’m late to the party. I’m sure Veronica has something major planned.”
It couldn’t be worse than this, surely.
“Sorry to dash off, but I have to go,” I told everyone as I squeezed through the crowd towards the door. “There’s an office party at my workplace and I promised my boss I’d show up.”
“Good luck, Blair,” Alissa called after me.
I’d need it. At Dritch & Co, an office party would be even weirder than the norm. Weirder than a pet hellhound familiar, even.
Chapter Two
I arrived at the office of Eldritch & Co to find a giant snowman standing on each side of the automatic doors. Each was about seven feet tall and stood out a mile, considering there was no snow anywhere else on the street.
“Where did they come from?” I remarked to nobody in particular. They looked disturbingly lifelike. Veronica hadn’t transformed a couple of actual humans into snowmen, had she? I hoped not. I warily peered through the automatic doors leading into the reception area, which had been transformed into the main venue for the office party. And, I suspected, fixed with an expansion spell, because it appeared to be the size of a hall and was full of more people than could possibly fit into the building normally, even with the furniture removed.
Veronica, my boss, waved me through the doors. “Glad you could make it, Blair.”
“Uh… hello, Veronica.” She was wearing an outfit shaped like a Christmas cracker which added at least a foot to her already taller-than-average height. My boss really didn’t do things by halves.
“Hey, Blair,” said Bethan. Her daughter wore a more sensible dress and heels, but her tottering walk indicated that she’d already dipped into the punch. If she’d had to deal with her mother running around like a maniac all day, it was no wonder. She leaned close to me and whispered. “We’ve had a few more guests than we planned for.”
I looked around at the sea of unfamiliar faces. “Who did you invite?”
“Everyone,” Veronica said. “I’m afraid the vampires declined my invitation.”
“You invited the vampires?” I scanned the crowd. There were an awful lot of tall bulky blond people in here. “And the werewolves?”
“It wouldn’t have been sporting to leave then off the guest list, considering two of the pack’s members work here.”
That would explain the number of guests. Our receptionist, Callie, seemed to have invited half the local werewolf pack. The rest seemed to be witches, but there were a few goblins and elves and others among the crowd. Rob, our newest team member and Callie’s cousin, walked past wearing a giant reindeer hat.
“Hey, Blair,” he said. “Great turnout.”
“I’m glad the pack accepted my invitation,” Veronica said, skipping through the reception area. “Bethan, dear, please keep an eye on the doors.”
“She has got to be kidding,” I said out of the corner of my mouth.
“If they get into a punch-up over the punch, guess who has to clean it up?” Bethan said.
“Yay us.” I shook my head. “I guess I should be grateful Vincent turned down her invitation.”
Especially considering the leader of the vampires had trashed the werewolves’ favourite pub last week. I’d expect it to be another few decades before I saw them in the same room without strangling one another.
�
�Lizzie’s turned our office into a bar,” Bethan added. “She actually seems to be having a good time.”
Lizzie was the person responsible for the office’s decorations, including the tinsel festooning every surface, and the printer singing carols at anyone who walked into the small office where the four of us worked. Speaking of which… “Where’d the wall go?”
The wall that had once separated our small office from the reception area had vanished, leaving our workspace wide open to the partying crowd. I walked through the place where the wall had once been, finding the office had also been emptied of furniture, and waylaid Lizzie beside the coffee machine.
“Where’d our stuff all go?” There’d been years’ worth of paperwork in the room before its transformation, and Bethan, for one, wouldn’t be happy if any of it went missing.
“Upstairs,” she said. “Bethan already made sure nothing went missing in the move. The boss wanted the printer to sing greetings to the guests, but it doesn’t like being moved, so we had to keep it in here.”
In the corner, the printer broke out into a rendition of Jingle Bells. The printer had more personality than you’d expect of an inanimate object, courtesy of the sentience spell Lizzie had cast on it. Her speciality was magical technology, so she was also responsible for the coffee machine’s newfound selection of Christmas-themed beverages. Why did I ever think this would be a normal party?
“I suppose we should be grateful she didn’t try to hire a troop of singing elves.” For the last week, we’d been dealing with clients asking us to find elves willing to play the part of Santa’s helpers, but the elves I knew preferred to hide in the forest and shun the crowds and merriment. I didn’t really blame them.
I helped myself to a glass of homemade magical punch, which, appropriately enough, tasted like being punched in the face. Coughing and spluttering, I looked out the window and startled when I found a snowman looking back.
“Are the snowmen supposed to look that realistic?” I asked Lizzie, having to shout over the music. “Where’d Veronica get them from?”
“She ordered them in especially, Bethan said,” Lizzie shouted back. “Got someone to put a sentience spell on them.”
A yelp came from somewhere outside. “That wasn’t one of the snowmen, was it?”
Bracing myself, I re-entered the reception area and found that Veronica’s cracker costume had stuck in the automatic doors. With a lunge, she tugged herself free, and would have fallen flat on her face if Bethan hadn’t caught her by the arms.
The doors closed, and then slid open again, revealing Alissa standing outside. Wait, what was she doing here?
My heart sank when Jeanie strode up to join her, holding her hellhound’s reins. Before she could waylay the boss, I darted out of the automatic doors to talk to Alissa. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Someone stole the Christmas turkey!” Jeanie bellowed.
“Wait, what?” I said. “I didn’t know we even had a turkey.”
“I knew how hopeless you all were, so I bought one from the market yesterday,” she said, her piercing tones drowning out the music from the office. “It’s disappeared.”
“Oh, no.” Had Sky taken so much offence at the invasion of our flat that he’d sneaked in and stolen the turkey? “Have you looked upstairs? Or asked Nina?”
“Nina hasn’t left her flat all night,” said Alissa. “Says she hasn’t even opened the door.”
“But has she kept track of Sky?”
“Can anyone keep track of Sky?”
Exactly. The hellhound snarled in agreement, chewing on one of the snowman’s feet.
If we didn’t find that turkey, we’d spend the whole holiday dealing with the wrath of Jeanie and her hellhound. Which meant I needed to negotiate with my cat. Again.
Chapter Three
I tracked down Bethan, who was hiding behind a group of werewolves while her mother loudly told stories about her ex-husband.
“There’s been an incident,” I said to Bethan. “Someone stole our frozen turkey. Someone probably being my cat. Would your mother mind too much if I went to deal with the situation?”
“Seriously?” She glanced at the corner where her mother stood. “It sounds like she’s more interested in telling everyone in the pack scandalous tales about my dad than partying, so sure, go ahead.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll try to make it back before she notices I’m gone, but Alissa’s Aunt Jeanie and her hellhound are on the warpath.”
“Oh, not her,” she said. “Jeanie, is that her name? I heard she pretty much got shoved out of her own coven after that beast of hers chewed up someone’s flowerbeds.”
“That’s her,” I said. “If I don’t find the turkey, she might turn me into a snack for her hellhound.”
Bethan pulled a face. “I’ll only tell my mum if she notices you’re missing. It’s easier that way.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back soon, I hope.”
Sky had better be open to negotiation this time. Of all the things to steal, he had to pick the thing that would incite the wrath of the woman with the hellhound familiar.
Slipping through the crowd, I walked out of the doors and into the cold night air. Outside, Jeanie paced up and down, her hellhound slinking at her side and growling at every shadow. Even the snowmen looked frightened of her.
“Lily did it,” she informed me.
It took me a moment to remember she meant Alissa’s Aunt Lily. “Why would she steal your turkey?”
“Because she’d think it was funny,” she said. “She always has to undercut me.”
“Haven’t you searched the flat?” I asked Alissa, who stood at a sensible distance away from the hellhound’s glowing eyes and sharp teeth. “It’s more likely to be in the house than anywhere else.”
“Yeah.” She fidgeted, burying her hands in her pockets. “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”
Jeanie leaned closer to me. “Your ability is what we need to find the culprit.”
My ability? I could only assume she meant my truth-sensing power. Which might well be true, but would Alissa’s relatives appreciate an interrogation? Probably not.
We arrived back at the flat, which was only marginally quieter than the office party. I scanned the guests for any signs of guilt, anything to hint that one of them might have stolen a frozen turkey, but that wasn’t how my ability worked. I needed to actually question them to find out who was behind the turkey’s disappearance.
“Who did you say did it?” I asked Jeanie, for want of a better idea.
“Her.” She jabbed a finger towards Lily the necromancer. She sat alone in the corner, shredding a piece of tinsel one strand at a time. She did not look like she’d appreciate being interrupted, but with a hellhound at my heels, I didn’t have much in the way of options.
Lily didn’t look up when I approached her, just carried on shredding her piece of tinsel. I cleared my throat, and she tilted her head at me. “You’re that Blah, aren’t you? The new witch?”
“It’s Blair, not Blah.” This was going well. “Um, Jeanie wanted me to talk to you.”
“What’s she want?” said Lily.
“She wants me to ask if you stole the turkey.”
“Why the bloody hell would I do that?” she said.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Jeanie marched over to her, gripping her hellhound’s reins to steer him through the crowd. “I bet you thought it was funny to bring it back to life and set it loose in the street.”
A gleam appeared in Lily’s eyes. “No, but now you’ve given me an idea. Maybe raising a turkey from the dead would shut you up for a bit.”
Jeanie let go of the hellhound’s reins and drew her wand. A blast went off like a firecracker, knocking into the tree and shaking the whole flat. Alissa flicked her own wand, and halted the tree before it hit the ground. “Stop that, now!”
“Hang on!” I told Jeanie as she raised her wand again. “Lily wasn’t lying. She didn’t do it.”
“Sh
e still insulted me.” Another flick of her wand and the tinsel rose into the air, hooking around Lily’s legs and lifting her upside-down in mid-air. The hellhound ran in circles below where Lily dangled, growling loudly and treading bits of tinsel everywhere.
“Aunt Jeanie!” Alissa shouted. “Can someone please do me a favour and stop those two from murdering one another while I get this turkey situation sorted out?”
Nobody moved to volunteer. Alissa flicked her wand, and the tinsel unwrapped itself from Lily’s legs and deposited her on the floor. At once, Lily lunged at Jeanie, but Alissa blocked her path, her wand raised. Putting on an accurate imitation of Madame Grey’s voice, she said, “That’s enough! The next person to use a hostile spell in here will be sleeping on the lawn.”
“There’s no need for that, dear,” said Jeanie. “We all know Lily is the culprit.”
“She didn’t steal it,” I said. “My lie-sensing power can’t be fooled.”
Whispers came from behind me, as Alissa’s other relatives finally started to pay attention to the ruckus.
Alissa kept her wand aloft and turned to face the room at large. “Anyone want to make a confession?”
Nobody answered. After making sure Jeanie wasn’t going to lunge at Lily again, the two of us made our way across the room, safely out of reach of the hellhound’s teeth.
“Why would Jeanie think Lily raised the turkey from the dead?” I whispered to Alissa. “I’m sensing there’s a story there. Probably one I don’t want to know about.”
“You might say that.” Alissa blew out a breath. “She and Lily have been at odds ever since she raised her pet hamster from the dead when she was a kid and freaked her out.”
“She did?” I shuddered. “Necromancy isn’t legal, is it?”
“She claimed it was an accident,” she said. “Anyway, it’s not exactly illegal, just discouraged. But I guarantee that’s not what’s going on here.”
“Then someone else in the room did it.” Or my cat. “Tell you what, I’m going to head upstairs to talk to Nina. Give them time to calm down.”
