by Sam Short
Boris bent his front legs and lowered his chest to the ground in a bow, and Willow hid a giggle behind her hand. The white goat leapt aboard the boat and followed Granny below deck, grumbling to himself as his hind quarters disappeared.
“Gladys Weaver is a rude woman,” said Derek. “I don’t know why you invited her here, Maeve. It was a blessing when she was struck with dementia and couldn’t open her own entry portal. Things have been… peaceful around here without her. If I had my way she’d still be banished from The Haven.”
“Well you don’t have it your way, Derek!” snapped Maeve. “Every witch is special in my eyes and Gladys is no exception. You’ll have to put the past behind you and make your peace with her.”
Derek and Gladys had butted heads in the past when Derek, during his time as The Copper Haired Wizard of The West, had cast a community of Haitian Voodoo witches from his lands and conjured a wall of magic to keep them out. Granny had not liked the injustice and had formed a group of witches known as the SJW’s — or Social Justice Witches — eventually forcing Derek to tear down the wall. Granny’s time as a social justice activist had culminated in her being banished from The Haven for a period of time, and it seemed that Derek still held a grudge.
Derek huffed. “Don’t you find it odd that she hasn’t taken the cure for her dementia yet, Maeve?” he said, twisting his staff into the ground, the jewels set in the carved knob glinting in the sun. “It was very kind of you to give it to her, I’d have thought she’d have used it by now — don’t you?”
Maeve closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s her choice, Derek, but yes, I happen to agree with you. I was surprised to see the Chinese acupuncturist still trapped in the body of a goat — as soon as Gladys takes the cure he’ll be freed, and I’d have thought that would be best for all concerned. Things will happen in their own time, though. We should allow fate to run its course.”
“But —”
“Enough, Derek. We can’t force our will on people.” Maeve looked at each of us in turn. “Rumour has it that Eva has prepared a welcome feast for the hungry travellers, and Derek and I have been invited. How about we all climb aboard that beautiful boat of yours, Penelope? Eva’s village is only two miles downstream and I’d love a trip on The Water Witch. We can discuss the reason I’ve asked for your help over a plate of your aunt’s fine cooking.”
“I’ll meet you there,” said Derek, straightening his colourful patchwork jacket. “I’ll not be getting on that contraption. Why not use magic if you have it?”
Derek vanished in a cloud of smoke, and Maeve smiled. “I’m sorry about Derek,” she said. “He’s old fashioned. He doesn’t feel I should be asking for the help of a mortal to solve a haven problem.” She smiled at Barney. “No offense meant, Lawman Barney. You’re a fine mortal indeed.”
“None taken,” said Barney, offering Maeve his hand. “Let me help you aboard. You’ll love the boat.”
Chapter Three
On my first visit to The Haven I’d eaten a meal at the table situated amongst the trees in the orchard at the bottom of Aunt Eva’s cottage garden. I’d had no idea that beyond the orchard ran a river, and as I steered the boat alongside the bank I found myself looking forward to the day in the distant future on which I’d move to The Haven on a permanent basis. I’d live in a cottage just like Aunt Eva’s, and moor my boat at the foot of my garden — ready for the regular trips along the river I imagined myself taking during my immortal existence in the magical dimension.
Maeve had driven the boat for most of the short journey and had laughed with joy as The Water Witch had responded to the instructions she gave it through the steering tiller. Her face was tinted with a happy red blush as she climbed ashore and helped Barney tie the boat to the trunks of two trees whose lowest branches dipped their leaves in the water. “That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time!” she said, tying a firm knot in the rope and moving aside as Boris leapt ashore.
Boris and Granny had spent the journey in Willow’s bedroom, at the bow end of the boat, speaking about the issue they so obviously had between them. I didn’t ask them what was wrong, neither did Mum, Barney or Willow — we’d been enjoying ourselves far too much to worry about a disagreement between Boris and Granny. Over the last few months, since Charleston had been magicked into the body of Boris the goat, the pair had had at least three disagreements a week. The only thing different about this one was that it seemed more personal. I made a mental note to bring it up with Granny when I had her on my own.
I studied Barney as he gazed around. He was still coming to terms with the fact that he was in a magical dimension, the existence of which he’d only been made aware of two short weeks ago. We’d told him to curb his excitement a little when he came to The Haven, because if he wanted to be taken seriously, he couldn’t act like a child on his first trip to a toy shop. He was doing a good job so far, but it was easy to sense his awe. His eyes glinted with excitement and his nose twitched as the aroma of cooking drifted through the trees which hid Aunt Eva’s garden from view.
Boris was way ahead of Barney. “I smell Italian food,” he said, licking his lips and wetting the hairs which formed his beard. “I’m quite the fan of Italian food.” He gave Granny a sideways look. “If it’s prepared correctly of course.”
Granny’s blue rinse perm bounced as she approached Boris at speed. “Was that meant as a dig at me, Boris?” she said, bending at the waist and staring the animal in the eyes. “It had better not be, because I put everything into making that spaghetti bolognese for you. I can’t help it if you’re a fussy eater!”
Boris took a step backwards. “You used child’s spaghetti in tomato sauce, Gladys. From a tin! The type shaped like letters, and you didn’t even ensure I had the letters on my plate to spell out this meal sucks big time. It was hardly fine Mediterranean dining!”
“We were on holiday. In a caravan,” said Granny. “I did what I could, besides — I never got much practice at making fancy nancy dishes — Norman, rest his soul, was a simple man. He liked his meat and two potatoes, and he didn’t whine if the gravy had lumps in it! He didn’t pester me for posh nosh. He was happy with what he got!”
Maeve clapped, the sound startling a frog from a lily pad. “Please,” she said, “stop that at once. The Haven is a place of peace, most of the time. Save your arguments for later and concentrate on being nice to one another.” She took a step along the overgrown pathway which disappeared into the trees. “Come on. If we’re not quick, Derek will have eaten all the food before we even get to the table.”
We formed a line behind Maeve and followed her along the narrow pathway as the sound of a woman’s laughter grew louder.
“That’s my sister’s flirting giggle,” said Granny from behind me. “I may not have seen her for some time, but I can tell from a mile away when she’s trying to get her claws into a man. She’s in her young body too — that laugh gives it away.”
The pathway opened into a clearing and it seemed that Granny’s observation had been correct. Sitting at the large wooden table among the fruit trees and wild flowers was Hilda — the elderly seer who had foretold of my power to see the future, Derek — who was chewing on a mouthful of food, and my Aunt Eva — looking more beautiful than I’d ever seen her. When a witch is given their Haven entry spell, they're also afforded the gift of being able to transform themselves between the age they were when they moved from the mortal world for good, and the age they were when they were granted their haven entry spell, and any age in between. Aunt Eva had been nineteen when she’d acquired her spell, and she’d chosen to be young today, unlike the last time I’d visited The Haven — when she’d remained in the body of the eighty-nine-year-old she’d been when she chose to make The Haven a permanent home. She looked to be in her early twenties today — a good couple of decades younger than the man she was trying to impress. Though most of Aunt Eva’s body was hidden by the table, it was apparent from whom Willow had inherited her shapely figure.
Aunt Eva’s cleavage burst at the low-cut blouse she wore, and she pressed up close to Derek, filling his plate with offerings from the many dishes and plates which filled the table top.
“Look at that alleyway hussy!” hissed Granny. “All over Derek like he was the last man alive. It’s disgusting!”
Mum pushed passed us, spurred on by the sight of the feast. “Try not to be jealous, Mother. Just because your dementia stops you shifting to a younger body, doesn’t mean everyone else has to stay old and wrinkly.”
Granny laughed. “At least you’re admitting you’re wrinkly, dear. It’s about time.”
“I wasn’t talking about myself,” snorted Mum. “I’m hardly old, and I’m staying this age out of respect for my daughters. They don’t want their mother outshining them in the looks department.”
“And the weight department,” said Granny. “You were even tubbier when you were younger. Like a fatted piglet. A cute one, but a wobbly one too.”
Mum chose to ignore Granny and took a seat at the table, giving the young Aunt Eva a kiss and smiling at Hilda who adjusted the bejeweled eye-patch she wore. I’d learned on my first meeting with Hilda that the eye-patch was for purely decorative purposes, but I had to admit that it did a good job in giving her the aura of mystery which I imagined was a great aid in her existence as a seer of the future.
Granny sat down and scowled at her sister. “You’re looking… nice today, Eva. Ashamed of your real age?”
Eva smiled. “It’s lovely to see you too, dear sister. How’s the dementia?”
Granny mumbled something and helped herself to a large scoop of lasagne. “It’s a good job for you that I can’t take on my younger form,” she said. “I always was the better looking one.”
“Granny,” said Willow. “You’re sisters. You shouldn’t be competing with each other!”
Eva laughed and Derek rolled his eyes, popping an olive in his mouth and pushing Aunt Eva’s hand away from his arm. “Enough bickering,” he said. “I’m trying to eat.”
Boris’s hooves scrambled for purchase in the grass as Hilda slammed her fist into the table top and screeched. “Danger!” she warned. “Danger!”
Barney leapt to his feet and drew his nightstick, brandishing the weapon above his head. “Where?” he said, twisting his head left and right.
“Calm down everybody,” said Maeve, her voice as soft as butter. “Hilda’s had a vision.” She looked at the old woman. “Is that right, Hilda?”
Hilda nodded. “I see danger greeting you on your journey,” she half whispered, looking at each of us in turn.
I grabbed Barney’s wrist. “Sit down,” I said as he put his nightstick away. “It’s okay.”
Hilda closed her one visible eye and sighed. “I see romance blossoming too. I see pure love on the horizon.”
Barney took my hand and squeezed it, making me blush.
Maeve picked up on my unease and ushered the seer on. “The danger you spoke of is more relevant, Hilda. Tell us more,” she said.
Derek grunted. “Are we really going to listen to the ramblings of Hilda?” he said. “If we took everything Hilda said seriously we’d all be hiding under our beds.”
“Yes, we are, Derek,” snapped Maeve. “Show some respect.”
Hilda continued, slowly swaying her torso from side to side as she spoke. “I see danger and love, and I see a man with coal black hair. Beware of him, for he means ill-will to all.” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “I see great power too, power greater than Maeve’s. The power is so great that the person who wields it will rule The Haven if they so choose.”
Derek leaned forward in his seat. “Tell us more, Hilda.”
“You’ve changed your tune,” said Granny.
“I’ve heard of this power before,” explained Derek. “In an ancient prophecy. If the power Hilda speaks of threatens Maeve’s control over The Haven, then it’s prudent that we listen.”
“I see no more,” said Hilda with a shake of her head. “Though you must heed my words.”
“Duly noted,” said Derek, pushing his plate way from him and taking a small metal tin from his breast pocket. He prised it open and withdrew a small twig which he placed between his teeth and began to chew.
Boris raised his head from the plate of cold meats and salad he was eating. “Liquorice root?” he said, sniffing the air. “Would you be so kind as to allow me one, Derek? I’ve not had one in years, and I find they cleanse the palate rather well.”
Derek raised an eyebrow and took another twig from the tin, tossing it into the grass in front of Boris. “Be my guest,” he said, as the goat gripped the stick in his mouth and settled down in the wild flowers to chew. Derek held the tin out. “Anybody else?” he said.
He put the tin away when nobody else took him up on his offer, and watched Barney with amusement as the policeman took his notebook and pencil out and cleared his throat.
“I feel it’s my duty to ask some questions,” he said, with a nervous strain in his voice. “After all, I was asked to come here to help solve a mystery, but so far, I’ve been given no indication as to what that mystery is, and we’ve just been told by a fortune teller that there’s danger waiting for us.”
Hilda gasped. “I’m no fortune teller, fire haired man of the law. I’m a seer! I require no recompense for my visions. A fortune teller would demand you cross her palm with silver before telling you of your fate, but I do it from the goodness of my heart. I’ve never been so offended.”
“He meant no offence, Hilda,” said Maeve, gently. “But Barney is right — it’s about time I told everyone why I’ve asked for their help.”
Maeve’s forehead creased and everybody quietened down, even Granny, who was informing Aunt Eva that her makeup was sixty-years out of style. The powerful witch took a breath and began speaking. “As you all know.” She looked at Barney and Boris. “As most of you know, I’m aware of most things that happen in this land. I’m tied to the very essence of the place by invisible strands of energy which keep me informed of happenings.” She looked at Granny with an accusatory gleam in her eyes. “That doesn’t mean I spy on people, despite some folk organising protests in the past which falsely stated the opposite. It means I know if people are in trouble, or if somebody new arrives in The Haven… or, if somebody leaves.”
“Yes, we get it,” said Granny. “You’re the all-seeing eye.”
Maeve took Granny’s comment in her stride, and chose not to respond. “I should say, I normally know when somebody has left The Haven. It’s just a feeling I get — one less soul feeding on the magic in the air.” Her face darkened. “But recently, some people have been reported missing by their families. You must understand that this sort of thing never happens. People report other people for crimes they’ve committed, but not for —”
“And for crimes they haven’t committed,” interrupted Granny, her arms crossed and her purple glasses teetering on the tip of her nose.
“You were found guilty of every crime you were ever accused of, Gladys Weaver,” scoffed Derek. “And some you weren’t accused of, but boasted about when you’d had too much wine to keep your mouth shut.”
“Enough… please,” said Maeve. “People are missing, and they may be in danger.”
Barney put the tip of his pencil to paper. “Can you give me some more details please?” he said, his eyes narrowed with concern.
Maeve gave a small nod. “As I said, this is new to us in The Haven. I’m glad to see you’re eager to help us, lawman Barney.”
“I’m happy to,” said Barney.
Maeve continued. “Six witches have vanished off the face of the…” She looked at Derek.
“Radar,” he obliged.
“Yes, radar. I try to keep up with the modern parlance of the other world, but it becomes confusing. Anyway, witches began disappearing five months ago, and the sixth one went missing just yesterday. They all resided in The City of Shadows, but aside from that we have no other information
. I’m sure they couldn’t have left The Haven, as I’d have been aware that they passed through a portal, but neither do I feel like they’re in The Haven. It’s a mystery. There are places in The Haven that my magic can’t penetrate for reasons unbeknown to me, but people have searched those areas, and have found no sign of the missing witches.” She stared at Barney. “Would your investigative skills be of use to us, lawman?”
“I can do my best,” said Barney, “I’d need more information of course.”
“We have no more information, Lawman. I would suggest you make your way to The City of Shadows and do what you must do to help. We’ll pay for your services of course — whether you solve the mystery or not.”
Barney put his notebook away and shook his head. “I don’t want your payment,” he said. “Helping you would be a pleasure.”
“We’ll discuss it again at a later date,” said Maeve. “Meanwhile, let me give you all something to take with you.” She handed each of us a small black stone and passed Granny a silver ring to hang from Boris’s red collar. “Although I can sense where you’ll be while you’re in The Haven, I’d like you to carry these. They’ll allow me to find you quickly if anything should happen,” she said. “They won’t work in the parts of The Haven in which my magic can’t penetrate, and no magic can be used in those places, but there is only one such area on your route along the river — the Silver Mountains, it should take you half a day to reach them, and then a further half day to reach The City of Shadows.”
“Or we could just magic them all there and leave the boat here,” said Derek. “That would be my decision.”
Maeve sighed. “It’s not your decision, Derek. They want to see the sights of The Haven along the way, I’m sure, and it will give them the chance to look out for our missing witches along the route.”
Barney stood up. “We should leave right away. Those people could be in trouble.”
“I’m ready to go,” said Willow, arranging her knife and fork on her empty plate. “I can’t wait to see more of The Haven.”
