by TJ Green
Herne lost patience. He raised his bow, aimed at Genevieve, and released another arrow at her, but again, she batted it away, her concentration absolute. She stepped forward again, and Herne raised his hand for a moment. Every single rider raised their bow and the air crackled with tension. And then Herne dropped his hand again and the air was alive with flaming arrows, all desperate to penetrate the shield. They failed, and the arrows fell uselessly to the ground.
Avery heard a scream to her right. A young, unknown witch stood the other side of Caspian; she looked terrified. She sank to her knees and the wall wavered. A rider immediately spurred his horse and charged at the weakened spot, punching through it as his horse left the ground, leaping over the fallen witch and escaping into the night, closely followed by a few others.
Genevieve didn’t falter, she strengthened the wall, sealing the breach, and Avery heard the riders engage with the Nephilim beyond them, their cries piercing the night.
Genevieve kept advancing and the coven followed her, moving ever forward as they tightened the circle. She paused momentarily as they stepped over Briar, leaving her and Newton behind, and then they pressed on.
As they advanced the wolves attacked again and again, snapping at the legs of the horses, dodging swords and arrows, and harassing the dogs so that they howled with frustration and pain. Herne turned and raced back towards the yew tree.
The coven was advancing quickly now as they reached the clearing around the yew, and soon they were within feet of each other. The wolves paced before them, many of them bleeding and limping as they watched Herne and his Wild Hunt forced back to the gateway between worlds.
Suzanna was spitting with fury. She launched many spells at the coven, but none of them worked. She screamed, “You cannot end this! I will not allow it!”
Genevieve pulled the poppet from one pocket and a knife from another. Her voice boomed out, “You have no choice, Suzanna. You, like Herne, are out of your time. There is no place for you here. I banish you from this world forever.” She plunged the knife into the heart of the poppet and Suzanna staggered back, her hand to her breast.
Half of the Hunt had already retreated back through the open doorway to the land beyond. As Suzanna stumbled, Herne’s horse reared up, Herne’s wild eyes furious in defeat as he glared at them, the only part of his face visible with the light behind him. Then he whirled around straight into the light, the remainder of his Hunt following him with a jangle of spurs, the flashing of silver, and malevolent stares of regret.
Genevieve threw the poppet in after him and in the blink of an eye Suzanna disappeared. With an almighty rumbling sound the light between worlds shrank and then closed with a deafening crack, and the grove was once more filled with silence.
Genevieve slowly lowered her hands, releasing the power of the coven back to the witches, and with it, the bright white light of the protection spell.
With a word, the remaining candles flared into life.
Most of the coven collapsed on the ground, Avery one of them. She felt so weak; she could hardly lift her head. She held her hand out and felt for Alex’s, grasping it firmly. He squeezed back. But Genevieve didn’t stop. She turned and raced back towards the edge of the grove.
Newton.
Alex pulled her to her feet. “Come on.”
El and Reuben had risen too, and together they ran, finding Briar still crouched next to a barely alive Newton, Gabe on the other side, and now Genevieve, as well. She placed her hand over Briar’s and sent her the last of the coven’s power she still carried.
The blood flow had stopped, though Newton was horribly pale. But at Genevieve’s touch, his eyes fluttered and he groaned. Avery sighed in relief, unaware she’d been holding her breath. But it wasn’t over yet. He was still just clinging on to life.
Briar was crying, tears streaming down her face. “I wasn’t good enough,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Oh yes, you were,” Genevieve reassured her, “or he’d already be dead.” She turned at the sound of someone approaching, and saw Caspian had arrived. “Caspian, take Briar and Newton to the hospital. Do whatever you need to do.”
Caspian looked as cool, calm, and collected as always. He crouched down, a hand on Newton’s shoulder, and then extended his hand to Briar. In seconds they disappeared.
Genevieve looked at others, clearly exhausted. “I think I’m going to sleep for a week. That’s the most magic I’ve drawn on for some time.”
Avery felt a rush of guilt as she remembered how snappy she had been with Genevieve at times. “You were amazing. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. I understand. Life gets frustrating sometimes.” She gathered herself with determination. “Come on, we’re not done yet. We need to cleanse the grove, tend the injured witch, and ensure that doorway is closed forever.” She looked at Gabe. “Did you catch the escaped Hunters?”
He nodded grimly, and Avery realised he was holding his shoulder stiffly. “You’ve been injured,” she said.
“I will live, and the Fey are dead. But you need to go into White Haven.”
Avery looked at him and then the other witches, confused. “What do you mean? We need to cleanse the grove.”
“Ben has phoned. The spirits have risen. They walk the streets of White Haven, your Helena among them.”
She looked at Alex, Reuben, and El in shock, speechless.
Alex gathered himself first. “When did this happen?”
“Before midnight.” He gestured around him. “They rose from here and other places as you started to battle with the Hunt. Go, now!”
They looked at Genevieve, but she only shooed them on. “Go. We will finish here, and then we’ll talk later.”
***
As Reuben drove recklessly into town, Avery called Ben, and it took him a while to answer.
“How bad is it?” she asked, finally connecting.
“Pretty bad from your point of view, but great from ours!”
“What do you mean?”
“There are ghosts flitting all over the town and we’ve got some great footage—I hope. You survived the Hunt, then?”
“Only just.” She looked around her at the exhausted faces of El, Reuben, and Alex. They were streaked with dirt and blood, and were covered in bruises and cuts from their pursuit through the woods. Reuben was driving with fierce concentration, taking corners way too fast, and Avery bounced around in the backseat. “We’re almost there now. Where are you?”
“Bottom of High Street. Prepare yourselves, because—”
Ben’s voice crackled, and the line was broken.
Avery looked at the others. “I think this is going to be big.”
Reuben turned onto the main street and continued to race down the road. It was now almost two in the morning and the roads should have been deserted and dark, but instead lights were on in upstairs windows, front doors were wide open, and a few people were running down the street, pulling on clothes as they ran.
“This is not good,” El said, worriedly.
They were close to the bottom of the town now, and as Reuben rounded a corner, he mounted the pavement and screeched to a halt, and they were all thrown forward. El’s hands slapped the dashboard. “Bloody hell, Reuben—” she started but didn’t finish, because in front of them was utter chaos.
In the middle of the road was a procession of ghosts, their spectral forms giving off a pale blue light, and what looked like half the town watching with shocked faces, some at the edge of the main street, some down side streets and others half hanging out of upstairs windows. All of them had phones in their hands, recording and snapping frantically. Shop windows were lit up, displays of pumpkins, jack-o-lanterns, and strings of lights a backdrop to the craziness of the spirits.
And there was a lot of screaming.
While some of the spirits were walking slowly, seemingly oblivious to their onlookers, others raced around, disappearing and re-appearing in the bl
ink of an eye, running down streets, appearing on roofs, and manifesting in the middle of huddles of people who then scattered and ran away screaming, only to turn around and run the other way as spirits raced towards them.
“Holy shit!” Reuben exclaimed, and he started to laugh.
Alex groaned. “How the hell can I banish ghosts with half the town watching?”
Reuben laughed again. “There is bugger all that we can do about this! And look, no one’s getting hurt!”
He was right. The spirits were like naughty children. They pulled hair, baited people, ran around, ransacked rubbish bins, and actually seemed to be having fun. And despite the palpable fear, sometimes terror, and general excitement of the crowd, Avery had to agree and she turned to the others, grinning. “Wow! This is mad!”
The witches moved in, circling slowly, and now that they were closer, they could see the ghosts’ old-fashioned dress and their strange hairstyles as they progressed their mad carnival march towards the harbour.
And then Avery saw her—Helena. She led the procession, a look of delight on her face, as her spectral being gave off reams of smoke that billowed around her. She looked around and saw Avery watching. For a brief second their eyes met as Helena grinned in triumph, and maybe a look of relief, too, at seeing Avery unharmed after their battle at Old Haven. And then she turned away, leading the mad carnival onward.
As they reached the harbour, the crowds were swelling, and Avery saw Ben, Cassie, and Dylan perched on the harbour wall. Dylan was filming, while Ben and Cassie were fiddling with their other equipment. A short distance away, Avery saw Sarah Rutherford and Steve the cameraman.
Avery pointed them out to the others. “Crap. This is going to be all over the news!”
Reuben was still laughing. “This is going to be all over the Internet, all over the world!”
El was giggling, too. “This is awesome!” She turned to Avery. “This is what Helena’s been up to. You suspected she was up to something!”
Alex snaked his arm around Avery’s waist. “Maybe this was her way of keeping people from Old Haven.”
“Maybe it was,” Avery said, watching the spirits enjoying their freedom. It was infectious, and she felt like running with them. Some people actually were. It was like a collective madness had infected the town. She starting laughing, too, feeling her tension ebb away. Helena never ceased to amaze her. “You know what? I’m going to call Genevieve. I think the coven would enjoy this.”
“So would Briar and Newton,” Alex said sadly.
“No, he would not,” El corrected them. “He would be furious with the publicity and the paranormal tag the town will get.” And then her voice trembled. “If he survives.”
“He’ll be okay,” Avery said resolutely. “He has to be.”
27
At dawn, after no sleep at all, Avery and the others went to Truro Hospital.
The mad rabble of spirits had finally disappeared as the night edged to a close, by which time Avery was convinced most of White Haven and the surrounding countryside had flocked to the town.
When they were convinced it was safe to leave and that nothing more sinister was going to happen, Avery and the others left the scene and drove straight to the hospital, still in their dark clothing and filthy with dirt, but they didn’t care. They wanted to see Newton and Briar.
Newton looked awful, and Briar didn’t look much better. He was in a side room, hooked up to drips giving him fluids and a blood transfusion, and a large dressing was on his neck. He was pale and sleeping, but he was alive. Briar was sitting next to him, half asleep in a large chair next to the bed. She had washed the blood off her hands, but her clothes were stiff with it. She stirred as they entered, and El and Avery rushed over to hug her.
“How are you?” Avery asked.
At the same time, El cut in, “How’s Newton?”
Briar nodded as tears welled up again. “He’s okay, I’m okay. He’ll make it.”
Alex came over and enveloped her in a huge hug, and Reuben gave her a squeeze of the shoulders as they all crowded into the small room.
Alex smiled. “You did good.”
She shook her head, doubting herself again. “Not good enough.”
“Briar, none us were that great,” Avery said regretfully. “We were there to stop Newton from being hurt, and we failed. Suzanna was too quick, and in the end we weren’t prepared enough. But if we hadn’t have been there, he’d have bled out. So...” She shrugged.
El sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb Newton. “What happened last night with Caspian?”
Briar rubbed her eyes and sat up. “He was amazing—hard to believe, I know. First he saves you, El, and now Newton. He brought us to the doors of the accident department, using witch-flight obviously, and then ran in for help. He said he’d found Newton on the street close by and just brought him here.” She shook her head again, clearly stunned by the events. “No one questioned him. They just whisked us in, and it was fine. The police came and took statements, but we said we hadn’t seen anything. If I’m honest, it sounds completely implausible, but Caspian was together enough to use some glamour, and well, here we are.”
“Damn it,” Reuben exclaimed. “I should like the guy, but I’m still struggling, to be honest.”
Avery felt the need to defend him a little. “We have to give him a break, despite what happened to Gil. He’s clearly trying to make amends.” She felt Alex watching her, and she smiled. “Right?”
He nodded silently, and Avery had the horrible feeling he was mulling something over. She reached forward and squeezed his hand and he gripped hers back, fiercely possessive all of a sudden.
“What happened after I left?” Briar asked, breaking into Avery’s thoughts.
Reuben answered. “Unfortunately, the young witch who had collapsed and let the wall break was trampled by one of the riders. She’s in a pretty bad way. She’s also here, on another ward. Gabe brought her in—once he and the other Nephilim had stopped the riders from escaping the grounds.”
Briar’s face fell and she sat up. “No! That’s terrible. Will she be okay?”
El nodded. “We think so. We looked in on her before we came here. Broken bones, internal injuries, and a fair degree of shock. She’s from Jasper’s coven, and he was there with her. Her name is Mina.”
“Did the riders cause any more problems?”
Reuben grunted. “Depends what you mean by problems. They fought viciously. Eli was injured. He ended up with a spear through his wings, and cuts down his arm, but he’ll heal. One of the advantages of being a half-angel is that you have great healing powers apparently, as well as being supernaturally strong.”
“Zee, too,” Alex added. “A sword almost took his eye. Now he has a scar down his cheek.”
“And Hunter and the Shifters?”
“A few injuries there, too. Mainly bites and mauling. They’re at Hunter’s house now, but they’ll be heading back to Cumbria later today. We’ll catch up with Hunter later.”
“He’s okay?”
Alex laughed. “No. But he’ll survive. He was worried about you.”
Briar dropped her eyes. “Tell him I’m fine.”
“You can tell him yourself, he’ll be visiting later.”
Avery noticed Briar’s constant checks on Newton, and how close she sat to the bed. She was pretty sure Hunter wasn’t going to like what he was going to see or hear. But it really came down to Newton. What did he want from Briar? Avery was pretty sure her feelings hadn’t changed for him at all.
“Something else happened, too,” Reuben said, a wicked glint in his eye. “Something big!”
“Wasn’t the Wild Hunt big enough?” Briar asked, looking worried.
He laughed. “There was a mad carnival of spirits in White Haven!” And then he started to describe what happened.
At that moment, Newton stirred in his bed. He peeled an eye open and grimaced. “You lot make such a racket.”
“Hey,
Newton!” Alex grinned. “You must be better, you grumpy git.”
“Sod off, Bonneville. I better have drinks on the house for a year.”
“Maybe a month! Don’t push it.”
Avery sighed with relief. He was going to be okay.
***
After visiting the hospital, Avery collected her gear from Reuben’s house and took everything back to her flat, including the cats. It was great to be home, and she turned up the heat, relishing a night in front of the TV, doing nothing.
There was no sign of Helena after her antics of the night before, so trying to convince herself she didn’t need to sleep, Avery headed into work to reassure Sally and Dan that everything was fine. To make up for the crazy week, she bought coffees and pastries, and spent time catching up with them—mostly gossiping about the night before, which they had witnessed, too. In fact, it was all the town could talk about. The story was on the news, on the radio, and all over the net. There was a stream of people in the shop all day long, and they didn’t want books.
By the time Avery and Alex got to Hunter’s house it was late afternoon. Hunter opened the door, once again covered in fresh bruises and with another black eye, and now bite marks scored his arms.
“Wow. You look terrible,” Alex greeted him.
Hunter grinned and let them in. His grin split his lip, and it started bleeding again. “Ouch. Thanks. Don’t make me laugh. Why aren’t you battered and bruised like me and Piper?”
“We have mental scarring, as well as plenty of cuts, scratches, and bruises, thanks.”
Avery added, “And enough memories to give me nightmares for a lifetime.”
“True that!” He led them into the kitchen. “Beer or tea?”
Alex snorted. “Beer! It’s almost five.”
He handed them a bottle each and cracked one open for himself. “That was probably the weirdest night of my life. And that says something, after what happened at Castlerigg.”
Piper joined them, her hair now a violent crimson, which matched the long cut running down her arm. “Last night was insane! My skin is still tingling with all that magic.” She pinched her arm. “It’s right here! And those spirits in the town! I still can’t believe it.”
