by Willow Mason
I held my tongue, staring down at the floor.
“What is it?” Glynda snapped. “You’re not even trying to keep a poker face.”
“Is this to do with my father? I know you don’t—”
“Your father is a wretch of a human being and an abomination as a witch.”
I whispered under my breath, “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’ve never hidden from you, or your mother when she was alive, exactly what I thought of him. It used to be enough to have a few hours’ drive separating us but obviously, that’s changed. Our safety is under threat.”
“It wasn’t really him.”
Glynda stared hard at me, finally sighing and gesturing for me to continue.
“His familiar, Aloysius, has been targeting me for a long time. I don’t think my father cared in the slightest whether he ever saw me in the flesh.”
“The familiar wouldn’t have acted without instruction and he was after your black magic.”
I frowned at the carpet again as if it had done me wrong. “Except the first time he came after me, I didn’t have it. The spells were still singing their song in the library and he didn’t pay them a visit. A man of such low morals could’ve stolen them out of thin air.”
One perfectly raised eyebrow reminded me of how I’d become acquainted with them.
“They wanted to belong with me. Aloysius is a creep who no spell would willingly go near.”
Despite Glynda’s admonitions, I still called the bus company as soon as I left her place. Sure, I wouldn’t act on the information until authorised but if I didn’t get the deets now, they could be gone by the time I needed them.
Old man with a tortoise? Check. The woman on the phone willingly let the confirmation slip when I told her it was my grandfather, and I needed to ensure he’d reached the other end of his journey unmolested. After all, it wasn’t like I wanted his personal details.
When it was like that, she abruptly cited the Privacy Act and hung up.
If I’d had access to the police database like normal, I could have traced his passage through the centre of Christchurch by following him from one CCTV camera to another. I could have spied on him in the bus terminal to see if that was his final destination or if he’d just jumped onto another vehicle to head out of town again.
Those details would sure come in handy. So handy, it would almost be worth breaking into Beezley’s home and pulling them up on the desktop while he was out.
I imagined the expression of horror that would cross his face if he came back before I left and dismissed the idea. Like a stubborn stain, it stayed lodged in my head, drawing my mind’s eye no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.
No. No, no, and more no.
Even if I would never go through with the plan, it brought home another revelation. One I’d been trying hard to avoid. Without access to the same tools I’d had with Beezley, my investigations would become a hundred times harder. With proper training that might not be an issue, but I couldn’t live on nothing while waiting to gain accreditation.
I needed to get a real job. Without magic, I couldn’t work for the coven and without training, I couldn’t work anywhere else. I was back to the same square one I’d been standing on when Beezley popped into my life. The minimum wage was the highest I could aim, and I couldn’t guarantee full time at that.
Curse Fernwood Gully for being a small town. During winter and the bustling ski season, I might find something more lucrative, but not so enriching I could weather the other three seasons of the year.
I wasted an afternoon dwelling on unpleasant thoughts and even worse scenarios. When Harriet arrived home, ready to change and head out to the coven meeting, I’d accomplished exactly nothing.
Even Prue had a kind word for me as we joined the coven meeting. Long shadows dragged out their echoes of trees, leaving the group in shade.
“Where is he?” Glynda demanded when Harriet and I made it through the throng to greet her. “I can’t impose a delay at this late hour.”
“Beezley will be here,” I said, keeping my fingers crossed behind my back. “I just wanted to touch base before I go back to the roadside to meet him. He likely won’t be able to find this place on his own.”
She appeared unimpressed with the information, so I waved goodbye to Harriet and toddled back along the path we’d just walked. Even if DI Jonson had been as good as his word, Beezley might not come. My fingers ached from being crossed so hard.
I’d almost given up hope, listening to occasional snatches of the coven meeting as sounds drifted through the forest when a familiar vehicle pulled up on the roadside. “Over here,” I shouted out, waving. Beezley gave me a cautious glance, then slammed his door closed before crossing to meet me.
“What’s this about?”
“Nice to see you, too. There’s a party farther into the forest. You’re the guest of honour for your help with the missing persons’ case we just resolved.”
“I don’t remember—”
“You don’t need to remember the case to accept the community’s thanks,” I said and tugged on his arm to pull him along the path. “Just stand there for a decent amount of time so they can show their appreciation.” I shot him a cautious glance. “You must’ve been in similar situations before.”
“Apart from the missing memories, yes. I’ve attended ceremonies before.”
His disparaging retort gave me a nostalgic smile and I took quick sideways snaps of his appearance. Did his hairline show more salt and pepper than the day before or was I imposing my worst fears onto the comparison?
“It’s not far now,” I said as we rounded a corner. The back row of the coven was just visible through the thick growth. Goodness knows what Beezley the human would think of the assembly or how he’d view the gathering. Luckily, the neural network in town was doing its job, and he didn’t look askance at the oddly dressed folks crowding into the circle.
“I can’t wait any longer,” Glynda shouted at the group. “If anyone joins us late, I’m relying on you all to fill them in.” A chorus of agreement sang out, which the supreme received with a nod. “Some of what I have to tell you today might have been said before. Please don’t interrupt to tell me this. I’m going over everything in detail, so the entire coven is on the same page.”
As she paused for everyone to agree again, a familiar yap jolted me around.
Porangi ran at me through the dense ferns and jumped into my outspread arms. “It’s so good to see you,” I said, giving him a kiss and inhaling his pungent doggy scent. “Do you forgive me?”
“That dog owes me two hours with an insurance adjustor and a five-hundred-dollar excess.”
I glared at Beezley, then sniffed. “A court might think you owe me more, considering you unceremoniously threw me out of my own home.” Turning back to Porangi, I whispered in his ear, “You’ve got an appointment with the police department, you’re so popular.”
Beezley had opened his mouth to offer another retort when the sound of a cleared throat drew my attention. An elderly man in crimson robes picked his way along the path, a long stick topped with a glowing orb helping with his balance.
All the spit dried in my mouth as I stared in bewilderment at the spectacle. Another man soon joined the first. Then another.
Three men in ceremonial robes. My stomach sank as I felt around Porangi’s collar, searching for the note I’d tucked inside while locked in a prison cell. It was no longer there.
The high priests of the supernatural council.
I bowed my head as they passed by and prayed Glynda would let me keep it once she saw what I’d accidentally done.
Chapter Seventeen
“Stay where you are,” the supernatural council leader—Wallace Ardmore—intoned as he stepped in front of Glynda. “We’ll need to interview each one of you in attendance. If you run now, everything will just take longer. Please understand we can and will track you down at home.”
The crowd jostled
and murmured but no one was bold enough to disobey the order or speak against him. With a flick of his hand, Ardmore gestured to the other two members, who pulled aside the witches from the innermost circle.
“What’s this?” Beezley asked with a bemused frown. “I really don’t understand your friends at all. Is there a bar here at least?”
“No,” I replied through frozen lips, trying to stay calm. “It’s a teetotal party.”
He sighed. “I know I should support the idea given how often I’ve had to arrest drunks after a hard night, but I could really do with a cold beer right about now.”
Porangi yapped and wriggled in my arms. His smile was so wide I didn’t have the heart to blame him. I’d told him to fetch the supernatural council, and even if he’d got them at the wrong time and to the wrong place, he’d done a superb job.
“Why are they pulling folks aside? Is this part of the ceremony?” Beezley turned in a semi-circle as the council dismissed the first interviewees and started on the next in line. “I don’t want them to touch me.”
Neither did I.
The council members took each witch aside and placed their hands on either side of the interviewees head. Although I’d never had it done to me in person, I’d been told the psychic search through the memory banks was akin to making a witch strip naked and parade in front of the panel.
Certainly, the witches already questioned had returned to their seats, pale and shaken.
“I was very hasty in throwing you out of the house,” Beezley continued, oblivious to most of what was happening around him. “Perhaps we should talk about the situation again once the walls and carpets have dried out.”
“That would be great,” I said through numb lips, counting down how many witches remained between me and my impending interrogation. “If we do that, I’ll make sure to enrol Porangi in an obedience school.”
“Oh, no. Not the dog.” Beezley rubbed under his nose. “There’s dog hair everywhere inside the house. He must be moulting, and I can’t stand that. I’ve never allowed a pet in my property before so I’m not sure why I changed my mind. Given his recent behaviour, I’m sure you understand.”
Glynda was pulled roughly from her place in the centre of the circle and jerked to the side. If looks could burn, Wallace’s hands would have floated away on the wind as ash. She closed her eyes, submitting to the interrogation with a stubborn tilt to her chin.
She would kill me.
I clutched Porangi tighter and backed up a step. Wallace lifted his hands from Glynda’s temples and waved her away before turning a piercing gaze on me. “Come forward.”
His beckoning finger made my stomach fill with acid, but I obeyed, unable to deny the order. Wallace frowned at me. “You’re human?”
“I’ve lost my magic,” I corrected. “I’m still every inch a witch.”
Wallace exchanged a glance with Glynda that I could only describe as sympathetic. I bit down on my tongue, hard, knowing anything I said would lead me further into trouble.
Ugh. The feel of him scrabbling around inside my head was diabolical. Every cell in my body rejected the process, even as my body stayed still at his command. Spiders. Roaches. Wasps. They would all have been more welcome in my brain than his penetrating thoughts.
“Garrick.” Wallace removed his hands but froze my legs in place. “Come and search this one, will you? I want to double-check my assessment.”
His council companion finished with his current interrogation, then stepped over and stood in front of me. I wanted to weep as he placed his hands where Wallace’s had just been.
“It’s good that you called us in,” Garrick said as he finished, leaving me in desperate need of the brain equivalent of a wet wipe. “This isn’t a matter for a coven to deal with by themselves.”
As I stepped back to join Beezley, I could feel Glynda’s accusatory gaze digging into me. I kept my eyes averted as the interviews continued, not wanting to face the music any sooner than necessary.
“This really is one of the worst parties I’ve ever attended,” Beezley said with a yawn. “And I’ve been to every end-of-year police party since I joined the force. Are we waiting for more entertainment to turn up or is this it?”
“This is as good as it gets.”
“At least the police functions have booze, nibbles, and music.”
“How about you slap a smile on your face and pretend like you’re enjoying yourself?” I snapped, causing Porangi to stop squirming and give me an astonished glance. “Sorry. I’m just nervous about what might happen next.”
“Nervous or bored?” Beezley yawned again, this time managing to get a hand in front of his mouth in a lacklustre gesture of politeness. “Oh, here we go. Your weird druid friend apparently wants to dance.”
Beezley stepped in front of Wallace with his body shuddering in revulsion while a half-smile stayed glued upon his face. “Great heavens,” Wallace said, stepping back and gesturing for both Garrick and the other council member to come over. “This one thinks it’s a dog!”
“They were very rude,” Beezley said, joining me after a trio of examinations. “I hope this shindig ends soon. It’s leaving me exhausted and I’d rather be home in front of the TV.”
“Do you feel… older today?”
“Than when? What a strange question to ask. Keep in mind I don’t remember you at all, so any cryptic questions we might’ve used as shorthand, I won’t understand.”
“It’s not a cryptic…” Beezley’s face was so distraught, I dropped it. “Don’t worry.”
“Cool.” He shot a glance at his watch. “I’m starting to wish I’d never dropped into the station. If DI Jonson hadn’t ordered me to attend this party, I think I’d be much better off.”
“You and me both.”
“Thank you for complying,” Wallace said, pushing Glynda aside once more. “My team now has all the information we need to make a ruling, but we don’t have all the interested parties. Please stay here while we fetch them. It won’t take long.”
For a horrified minute, I thought ‘not long’ might be the few hours’ drive to The Briary and back. But the supernatural council’s powers weren’t limited to digging into people’s brains. They joined hands in a circle, closed their eyes while chanting, and a few minutes later Aloysius appeared inside their small group.
“What the—?”
“Move to the side,” Wallace ordered him impatiently. “We have a lot to get through this evening. Your questions will be answered in due course.”
Another chant brought forth my father, then Marlon, and finally Binky. With a snap of his fingers, Wallace had his companions search their minds, then stepped into the centre of the circle again.
“It appears we’ve been summoned here to adjudicate a dispute between your two covens. Now all plaintiffs and defendants have been searched, I’m ready to issue the council’s ruling. As we were voluntarily summoned to this district, our summation will be binding.”
Glynda stood twenty metres away from me but the distance wasn’t enough to stop her eyes searing into my soul. Whatever hell the supernatural council made us pay, I’d be wearing more than my fair share.
“From my understanding, there are three separate complaints made here. Number one, that The Briary held two residents of Fernwood Gully against their will. In this action, there was collusion between members of the Fernwood Gully coven and The Briary coven, therefore each group must evenly share the blame.”
I felt a punch in my gut at the news. Brianna, Delia, and Lucinda had acted so badly they’d ripped away my right to natural justice. With a soft groan, I realised how much trouble we might be in.
“Number two, that The Briary obtained black magic by means of deception and failed to deliver the promised outcome, thereby nullifying the original agreement. Since the dog in question is now definitely human and memory retention was not specified in the contract, we find there was an equal and adequate quid pro quo from either side and the agreement stands.”
A lump rose in my throat, choking me until I coughed. Beezley would not be regaining his memory. Worse still, the council thought nothing wrong had occurred. Aloysius had wiped out my entire friendship with one rotten spell and there was nothing I could do about it.
No wonder Glynda was set against calling in the council to sort things.
“Number three, that Marlon, animus healer, failed to account for the reverse lifespan of the creatures he was transforming back to human. While this is an unfortunate development—”
“Unfortunate!” Brianna staggered to her feet and ran at the council members, fists waving. Glynda stepped forward and caught her arms before she could reach them. “How dare you refer to my friend’s death as unfortunate? It was cold-blooded murder.”
“Flies have short life spans. Are you suggesting nature is a cold-blooded murderer?”
The coven gave a collective gasp. Even I was shocked, and my friend suffered from the same ailment. No witch should ever insult nature. It was a dance between light and darkness, death and rebirth, held sacrosanct by every witch on the planet.
Glynda helped Brianna back to her seat, where Lucinda took a firm grip on her daughter.
“As I was saying,” Wallace continued, “the life span reversal was an unfortunate side-effect but not one the animus healer can be held responsible for. Marlon has also been held against his will and forced to perform magic to keep his familiar safe. On the basis of the conditions under which he cast these spells, neither I nor my colleagues are willing to censure him.”
“This is outrageous,” Glynda said, pointing a finger towards Aloysius and my father while her lips twisted in disgust. “These men have been taking advantage of our community for generations. If you’re not laying the blame at Marlon’s door, fair enough, but it should be laid at theirs.”
“I was held in a prison cell against my will also,” I said, stepping forward in a gesture of solidarity with my supreme. “If you don’t hold this witch and familiar accountable, you’re emboldening them to continue with their abhorrent behaviour.”
