Witch Fire

by Laura Powell

  ‘The boy was immediately taken in and witch-swum. Nothing. Witch-pricked too. Nothing. The mark on his ankle was gone. He really was just an innocent bystander – fae-free.’

  Lucas bit his lip. ‘And he’s normal in every way? In good health?’

  ‘Apparently so.’

  ‘OK, maybe your original information was wrong. It could have been a malicious accusation.’

  ‘It could. But we don’t reckon it was.’ She looked at him shrewdly. ‘You got any other explanation for a kid who’s a witch one day, and not the next?’

  Lucas hesitated. He hadn’t had a chance to pass on his findings to WICA yet. He didn’t know how open Jenna was really being. But in the circumstances, he had to give her something. Briefly, he described his dealings with doctors Caron and Claude, but without going into the specifics of the procedure, or mentioning the name of the company. He kept Rose Merle out of it too.

  ‘Hm.’ She drummed her fingers on the top of the dryer. ‘Interesting. We’ve heard the rumours, but never managed to follow them up. Sounds like it’s time to start joining the dots.’

  ‘So what now? We team up?’

  Jenna paused. ‘Look . . . I’ve had my instructions. And, yeah, inter-agency cooperation is all the rage these days. But the fact is, there’s a lot of unease at Control. We don’t get what Glory’s doing here.’

  ‘What do you mean? She’s my partner.’

  ‘She’s got criminal associations.’

  ‘That’s in the past. Glory’s left the covens behind.’

  ‘It’s not just the covens, though, is it? It’s Endor.’

  Lucas felt a premonitory tremor of alarm. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Nice try.’ Jenna shook her head. ‘We both know that your Inquisition coerced Edie Starling into joining Endor as a double agent. She fed them chicken feed for a year or two, then vanished. If she’s still alive, then odds are, she’s been turned.’

  ‘Edie’s activities are nothing to do with Glory.’ The words grated in his throat. ‘She doesn’t even know about the Endor connection.’

  ‘I’m sure she doesn’t.’ Jenna raised her brows. ‘Or that a certain Ashton Stearne was part of the clique who forced Edie undercover in the first place. But either way, Glory Starling’s a liability. Damaged goods.’

  There was a noise from outside. They both stiffened. Lucas knew what it was: breaking glass. Too late, he saw the tumbler on the floor behind a pile of laundry bags. Too late, he looked in the doorway to see Glory standing there. She was holding a shard of glass in a bloody fist. It was the shattered remains of the other half of a listening talisman. Her face was so white and pinched the bones seemed ready to poke out of the skin.

  ‘Oops,’ said Jenna.

  There was a rushing and beating inside Lucas’s head. ‘Glory. Glory, I –’

  He put out his hand towards her, and she jerked violently away.

  ‘Liar. Traitor. Get away from me.’

  ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘I think I’ve been played for a fool. And that you went along with it, every step of the way.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I hated not being able to tell you. They told me if I did, I’d get thrown out of the service. They threatened me with prosecution.’ It sounded pathetic, even as he said it.

  ‘“They” all knew, did they? Rawdon, Jonah, Zoey, Carmel . . . Everyone but me. Christ!’ She spat on the floor. ‘What was the master plan, then, Lucas? To use me like your dad used my mum? As some kind of bait?’

  ‘No, of course not. Listen, it’s complicated –’

  ‘Don’t hexing patronise me.’ Glory drew a ragged breath. ‘I should’ve known. Like father, like son. I was a fool to ever think you was different. A fool to trust you, to think that you – that we –’

  Her mouth quirked bitterly. Then she turned on her heel and ran.

  A heavy-faced man in a cleaner’s uniform was standing at the foot of the stairs. As Glory shouldered him aside, he looked at Jenna quizzically. Jenna shook her head, and when Lucas moved forward, dug her shiny pink nails into his arm.

  ‘Calm down. You’ll only make this a bigger mess than it already is. You’ve a job to do, remember.’

  Lucas wrenched himself free, but when he reached the top of the stairs, Glory had gone.

  Chapter 17

  Glory stormed blindly through the castle. Harsh and unfamiliar tears rose in her eyes. She struck them angrily away.

  She had decided to snoop on the meeting on a whim. Last night’s witchwork had reinvigorated her; that afternoon, all she wanted was to indulge her curiosity and make some mischief. When she’d sneaked down to the basement, waiting for the chance to pick the lock on the caretaker’s cupboard and position herself among the cleaning supplies, she hadn’t even expected the stunt to work. The laundry room the other side of the wall was noisy with machines, and a listening talisman was hard to manage at the best of times. As her finger had circled the rim of the tumbler in her hand, calling to the fae vibrating through the glass she’d placed next door, the thread of sound that stretched between them was almost too thin and colourless to hear.

  Yet the words still came, and with them, Glory’s every nerve underwent a separate hammer blow of shock. She didn’t remember breaking the glass. Either she’d gripped it too hard, or she’d lost control of the fae buzzing through her body. Her fingers were still smeared with blood. She regretted it was hers. She wanted to cause some damage.

  Edie looked very young in the photograph Glory had always kept by her bed. Her expression was ill at ease. Perhaps when the picture was taken, she was already preparing to go. And what had Glory been left with? Her lovely, useless, defeated Dad. Charlie Morgan, with his shark-tooth grin. Bitter old Angeline – another person who’d lied to and betrayed her, and manipulated her for her own ends . . .

  I love you, but it’s better if I go. Forgive me. No wonder the note had been so short. Edie had been blackmailed, perhaps with threats against her husband and child. And yet the prickers had got their claws into her daughter all the same. Twelve years later, here she was, doing their dirty work.

  Well. Not any more.

  Rounding a corner, Glory nearly ran smack into Raffi. He was dragging an enormous suitcase behind him and the guardian escorting him was carrying another. ‘There you are, Glory! I was looking to say adios. Have you seen where is Lucas?’

  She was about to shake him off, then stopped. ‘Wait for me,’ she said, with an urgency that made him blink. ‘Five minutes. Wait.’

  Glory raced back up the stairs, through the passageways and into her room, where she threw a few essentials into a shoulder bag. She tore the spare passport out of its hiding place, and pounded downstairs and out on to the castle forecourt. Raffi was standing by the side of a white limousine. Cordoban rap was pumping out of the sound system and his driver was loading the boot, resplendent in aviator sunglasses and a tight white suit. A small group of students and staff had assembled on the steps to say goodbye. Jenna and Lucas were there too.

  Glory skidded up to Raffi. ‘Can I have a lift?’

  ‘You are leaving? For why?’

  She shrugged, and hitched her bag over her shoulder. ‘Need a change of scene.’ Then, under her breath, ‘Get me outta here. Please.’

  Raffi grinned. ‘OK, sure. Jailbreak . . . road trip. Whatevers!’

  Lucas moved out of the knot of onlookers. He looked ill. ‘Glory, please don’t do this.’

  ‘Shut up,’ she hissed. ‘Shut up, else I’ll only make it worse for you. Both of you.’ She shot a glance in Jenna’s direction. Poisonous bitch. ‘Don’t you get it? I’ll burn before I see or speak to you again.’

  ‘Gloriana!’ Principal Lazovic was marching down the steps, Mrs Heggie at his side. His neat little face was twitching with anger. ‘You cannot leave on a whim. Your family must be consulted, the proper procedures followed.’

  ‘Besides,’ said the matron righteously, ‘you have no resources. Without the nec
essary paperwork –’

  ‘I got all I need.’ Glory waved her passport at them. ‘No one’s kept here against their will; that’s what you said. You can’t stop me.’

  ‘You are here for your own protection,’ the principal said. ‘We have a duty of care –’

  Glory flung her back her head. ‘WITCH!’ she howled. ‘I’m a WITCH! Hecate’s Little Helper! Mab’s Handmaiden! A hexing harpy HAG! There.’ She gave the finger to the gaggle of shocked faces. ‘Consider me expelled.’

  This time nobody tried to stop her. She jerked open the passenger door and got into the limo. Raffi came and sat beside her, speechless for once. The car moved on, past the guardians, past the checkpoint and wire fence. The castle was swallowed up by trees. Glory sat back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. A terrible, wordless loneliness descended.

  Lucas followed the others back into the academy. There was no other choice. He could feel Jenna’s eyes on him but kept his face stonily blank. He was furious with her, and even more furious with himself.

  And because Dr Caron was the last thing he wanted to deal with, there she was, waiting in the hall. ‘Ah, Lucas. We have an appointment now. I hope you didn’t forget?’

  It was even worse when he sat down in her office. He tried not to look at the bathroom door. He tried not to think of the giddy rooftop swoops, the scramble on the ledge . . . Glory’s eyes, black and bright . . . his hands in her hair . . .

  The therapist pushed her oversize glasses up her nose. ‘I had not realised you and the coven girl were so close.’

  He didn’t respond.

  ‘I heard about what happened last night.’

  ‘It didn’t mean anything.’

  She tapped her finger on the desk. It was the one with the missing joint; the skin was yellow and puckered at the end.

  ‘People are gossiping. About you and Gloriana. You and Jenna too.’

  ‘I don’t pay attention to gossip.’

  ‘Lucas. I know you are confused. And bored, and lonely. But to form an intense attachment in such a short space of time, and to such a girl . . . Gloriana is crude, aggressive. I confess I do not see what someone like you would see in her.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked, goaded. ‘Because she’s not browbeaten by this place? Because she’s proud of what she is?’

  Dr Caron’s face grew sharp and watchful. ‘And you admire that?’

  At once, he realised his mistake. ‘No. Not at all. It’s just . . . well, it’s different for someone like Glory. She’s been brought up among criminals. She’s used to – er – deviancy. That’s why we quarrelled.’

  ‘Did you discuss with her what we talked about in Blumenwald?’

  ‘Of course not.’ He swallowed. ‘Anyway, she wouldn’t be interested.’

  Dr Caron’s eyes travelled slowly round her office. Lucas began to sweat. What if he and Glory hadn’t managed to completely cover their tracks? The woman must already know about the attempted break-in to Lazovic’s office, and now there was evidence of sky-leaping too.

  The silence stretched on. Finally, he said, ‘I think I’m ready to talk to my father now. About what we, er, discussed. Do you think you’ll be able to set up the call?’

  Dr Caron spread her hands out on the desk.

  ‘I don’t think that would be wise just now. You are overemotional. We do not want to overreach ourselves.’

  The next morning, the school was informed that, for health reasons, the therapist had gone on indefinite leave.

  ‘Hello? Hello?’

  ‘It’s me, Dad. Glory.’ She could hear music and laughter in the background, and the chink of glasses. ‘Are you at a party?’

  ‘Oh, ah, well. Just a small gathering. The Residents’ Association got the funds for the play centre, so me and Peggy thought a celebration was in order. Rolf’s helping too.’

  Glory leaned her forehead against the side of the service station phone box. She felt terribly tired.

  ‘Sounds fun.’

  ‘And how are you doing?’

  ‘Fine. Mostly. That is – well, things ain’t exactly gone to plan at the academy. We’ve hit a bit of a dead end. So I’m going to take a break. I thought I’d go travelling for a while. Maybe visit Cousin Candy.’

  ‘On your own? What about money?’ He coughed. ‘Ahem. I’m not sure this sounds very, er, sensible.’

  ‘I’ve enough funds to be getting by. And I’m with a friend.’

  ‘Lucas?’

  ‘No. Someone else from the school. Lucas . . . he’s staying on. Fact is, Dad, I might have made a mistake with this WICA business. I don’t reckon the job’s right for me after all.’

  ‘I’m very sorry to hear that, love. I hope you’re not in any difficulty.’

  ‘I’ve always been free to walk. And I ain’t done nothing wrong – don’t let no one tell you otherwise. Don’t let on what we’ve talked about neither. Any problems, you speak to Troy. I’ll be in touch again soon.’

  ‘Oh dear . . . well . . . I’m sure you know what you’re doing. You’re such a clever girl. But you will be careful, won’t you?’

  ‘Always. I love you.’

  ‘Love you too.’

  Glory put the phone down with a sigh. She knew she would have to broach the subject of Edie at some point, but her heart shrank from the prospect. At least Patrick was discreet. All those years in the coven hadn’t been for nothing.

  Please, please pick up, she begged silently as Troy’s mobile, the one he used for personal calls, began to ring.

  At the last minute, he answered with an irritable, ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s Glory, and I’m gonna have to be quick ’cause I’m on one of them phonecards and I ain’t got much credit. But I thought you should know I’ve left the academy, and WICA, and the rest. You were right. More than right. I was a fool to trust them. I’ve been played.’

  She worked hard to keep her voice strong.

  There was a moment’s pause. ‘Exactly how much trouble are you in?’

  ‘Hard to tell. I’m free to resign from the agency, I guess, but if I come home I’ll be hauled in by the prickers for bridling and that. So I’m gonna lie low for a bit.’

  ‘And go where?’

  ‘Cordoba. I thought I might look up Candy.’

  ‘Mab Almighty, girl – it’s the back of beyond! Not to mention home to every kind of lowlife under the sun.’

  She managed to laugh. ‘Then I’ll feel right at home. In any case, I got connections there. I won’t be on me own.’

  After some grumbling, Troy gave her Candice’s address, which he’d got from one of the Wednesday Coven’s contacts in San Jerico. At the moment, the only communication Candice’s family had from her was the occasional email.

  ‘Can’t you tell me what happened?’ he said afterwards. ‘What they’ve done?’

  ‘Later.’ Glory gripped the phone tight to support herself. ‘I need to get my head straight first. Keep an eye on Dad, OK, but don’t worry about me. I’m a Starling girl, remember.’

  ‘Not likely to forget, am I?’ Troy said, softer now.

  When Glory put the phone down, she saw Raffi waiting for her across the way, shovelling chips into his mouth.

  ‘Sorry for the hold-up,’ she said, as breezily as she could make it. ‘I were just finalising my travel plans. Thought I might swing by Cordoba, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Seriously? This is totally excellent! San Jerico, my home town, is very friendly place – good for us deviants, ha ha. We can party there.’

  ‘Sounds fun. But I gotta keep my head down, till I sort stuff out.’

  ‘You will be OK, though?’

  ‘I’ll be fine. I just . . . I just could do with a break.’

  Raffi didn’t respond immediately. His pudgy face was solemn.

  ‘Lucas, he hurt you very badly, I think.’

  The man from MI6 was tall and shambling and ruddy-faced. As he hovered in Lazovic’s office, waiting to fill out the relevant paperwork, his eyes flic
ked about nervously, as if he expected an ambush of teenage delinquents at any moment.

  ‘Ah, ahem, Lucas, m’boy. Jolly good.’ He peered absent-mindedly at the view. ‘Charming place . . . July’s a good month for alpine flowers, they say, even though there’s still snow on the mountainside.’

  Lucas and his ‘godfather’ did not speak until they were several miles past Blumenwald, and their car pulled up in a deserted picnic spot. At once, the man from Six straightened up, became curt and shamble-free. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘this is quite some situation we’ve got here. Care to explain how it all went tits up?’

  It appeared that Jenna had lost no time in spreading the bad news, and cover her back in the process. Lucas kept his own story as concise and colourless as possible, while admitting that mistakes had been made at different stages by different people. The other agent heard him out in silence and without comment. Finally, Lucas ventured a question of his own. ‘I don’t understand where Section Seven got their intel. How did they discover we were WICA, and how did Jenna know about Operation Swan?’

  ‘They knew about you and Glory because Commander Hughes had a word with her opposite number at the WSA. As for Edie Starling . . . well, they have their sources. The UK Inquisition has been relatively slow to make use of witchkind intelligence, but Section Seven and the WSA have been collaborating for a good while. It’s put them ahead of the game.’

  ‘Not when it comes to Cambion,’ Lucas pointed out. ‘I didn’t give Jenna the name of the company, or its connection to Rose Merle. Then there’s Dr Caron. She might have backed off for now, but it’s possible she’ll still try to contact me. We’ve got a head start.’

  ‘That may be true. However, it’s not something that you should worry about.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  The agent didn’t answer him straight away. ‘Frankly, I can’t understand why you and Glory were ever paired up in the first place. It seems obvious there’s too much personal history between you and your families for a professional distance to be maintained.’