Bricking It

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Bricking It Page 8

by A. A. Albright


  ‘Okay. I’m gonna do it.’ I swung my leg over. The second I sat in the seat, I understood what Melissa meant about gravity fields. I was very firmly stuck to the seat. ‘I’m going to press the green button now,’ I said nervously. With everyone looking at me, I shakily hit the button.

  As I shot up into the air, Melissa called up to me, ‘Don’t forget to cloak yourself!’

  I hit the dark blue button and rose even higher. The wind whipped through my hair. All traces of wine and poitín and special sprinkles left my system because, let’s face it, there is no sensation better than flying. I felt no nerves, only glee, wanderlust, and a sense of being exactly where I was meant to be.

  10. Will-ful Ignorance

  I wanted to fly everywhere. I wanted to see the whole world. But a niggling reminder kept on and on at me: my first exam was tomorrow morning. No, scratch that – I glanced at my watch – it was this morning. Six hours from now.

  ‘Sod it anyway,’ I grumbled, looking at the ground below. I could see all of Dublin – the strange beauty of the lit-up cars and buildings. The not-so-beautiful scenes of people peeing, fighting, puking, and sleeping in alleyways. I let my eyes scour over it all, wishing Halloween would come so that I could be doing instead of viewing. My eyes travelled over Warren Lane, and the sensation grew. I had studied as much as I possibly could. It was time to do something for myself. I spied the tallest tower of the Wyrd Court, narrowed my eyes, and set a course.

  In the space of a few seconds I was setting the broom down on a wide stone windowsill near the top of the building. From the street below, it had been impossible to tell, but now that I was up here I realised that there were no panes in the windows. I hopped through onto rickety, dirty wooden floorboards.

  The room was huge, but in a sorry state. A rotting wooden chair (the throne Wanda had sat upon in my vision?) was in the centre of the room. The other seats were arranged all around the walls of the room, with a narrow gap leading to the door. With the absence of windowpanes, the breeze blew through, making me shiver, and making dust motes dance in the moonlight. I looked up at the domed ceiling. There were no stars there, just some flaking black paint.

  I threw my leg over the broom again and flew up to get a closer look. Rubbing at the paint, I watched it peel off and fall to the floor. In the small spot where I’d cleaned it away the ceiling began to shine. I removed more paint, and more …

  This was the confirmation of what I already knew: without a doubt, I was in the room I had seen in my vision. The light was now spilling from the stars on the ceiling, shining even brighter than the full moon outside. And seeing as the original Wanda was said to have lived centuries ago, then it was a truly amazing feat of magic to have created stars that could shine after all this time.

  But why, I wondered, had the room that held the very first meeting of the Wyrd Court been left to fall into disrepair? And there was another thing, too. In the vision there had been so many different kinds of supernatural, but not a single one of them had donned a Pendant of Privilege. Had there been a prettier and less obnoxious item that did the same thing back then, or could access have been open to all?

  I had a sudden, insistent memory of my early years, of glancing at my tiny wrist and giggling as something pretty caught the light. A bracelet? I set a reminder in my brain to ask my mother about it sometime.

  I travelled from one draughty window to another, looking for signs of what Wanda had said they were looking down upon. But I didn’t even know what I was looking for. And surely if the Wizard’s Graveyard was here in Warren Lane, someone would know about it.

  I let out a little grunt of frustration, and left the building. Unlike the rest of Dublin, Warren Lane was very much in darkness, other than the odd light here and there. One of those lights was shining from a ground floor window at the back of the Warlock Arms.

  I hovered in the air, looking down on it, feeling the itch growing worse. Had people begun to move in to the apartment building already? Or was someone working incredibly late?

  Before I made a decision either way, I began to lower down. I knew it was a bad idea. But I was cloaked on the broom. No one could see me. And I wasn’t using magic either. I was just being your average nosy citizen, peering in other people’s windows. Nothing wrong with that. Okay, there was a lot wrong with that, but I wasn’t snooping in a creepy way. I was the innocent version of a Peeping Tom.

  As I drew closer to the ground, it became clear that I needed a lot more practice at controlled flying. Way up in the sky, that was fine. But trying to keep the broom hovering at precisely window height … it seemed I wasn’t quite there yet.

  I knew I could manage an invisibility spell. Before the minister banned me I’d tried one out. I’d tried lots of spells out in an incredibly short space of time, delighted with my new power. Obviously I couldn’t risk it again though, not until Halloween. The sensible thing to do would have been to fly home and get some rest. But the urge to peep in through that window was just too strong.

  Wanda the Wayfarer’s words made their way back into my mind. ‘Remember, Wanda. Magic is not the only way to get things done.’

  Well, gosh darn tootin’, she was right. I’d had years without magic, and I’d managed just fine. I didn’t need an invisibly spell. I just needed to be very, very sneaky.

  I crept behind a bin, covered my nose (because yuck!), and looked in at the lit-up room. It was a large office, with a sleek modern desk and a not-so-sleek Will Berry sitting behind it. I nearly did a double take. Will looked exhausted. There were bags beneath his eyes, and his expression was one of abject misery. On the table before him, huge pieces of paper that looked like building plans were laid out. He had the window open, so I could hear him sigh and groan as he crashed his head into his hands.

  ‘In need of a sugar rush?’

  I didn’t recognise the voice, but I soon saw its bearer enter Will’s office. The man was tall and well-built. He had darker eyes and hair than Will’s, but judging by the shape of his cheekbones and jawline, I was sure that this must be Will’s father, Kilian Berry. As he came more into view, I saw that he had a cat wrapped around his neck and a plate of cake in his hands.

  Will looked up. ‘I’ve had three slices of cake today already, Dad. Not to mention the bread and the muffins.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ His father chuckled. ‘I’m too tired to make any more – well, until tomorrow at least. I’m going to get off home now. You should come with me.’ He pointed at the plans on Will’s desk. ‘What are you up to, anyway? We’re on the finishing touches, Will. No need to be looking at plans.’ He pulled the papers from the desk, folded them up, and shut them away in a drawer. ‘See? Nothing left for you to worry over. Now, come on home and get to bed.’

  The cat lifted its head and yawned. ‘You’d better say yes. You’re much better at making my supper than your dad is.’

  Will stood up as if he was about to go along with his father. ‘You know what,’ he said, hesitating. ‘I’ve got to sort the wages out for the workers. I’d better just do that first. You go on without me.’ He gave the cat a little rub. ‘And tonight’s dinner is a tin of tuna, Dave. Even my dad can’t mess that up.’

  Dave the cat shrugged, closed his eyes, and began to snore.

  ‘The wages can wait, son,’ Kilian protested.

  Will snorted. ‘Sure, if you want to have a strike on your hands.’

  ‘All right then.’ His father shrugged. ‘Remind me tomorrow to hire some new people for the accounts department. You have far too much on your plate right now.’

  Will gave his dad a weak wave, and sat back down. I watched Mr Berry senior snap his fingers and disappear. As soon as he was gone, Will went over to a metal cabinet and pulled out the papers his father had shut away.

  ‘Bugger it!’ He kicked the cabinet as he looked down at the plans. A lot more cabinet kicking ensued. Eventually, he shoved the plans back into the drawer and left the office. I was just about to venture inside, when sudde
nly Will was outside, standing on the back steps and looking up into the night sky.

  ‘Well, it was only a stupid idea, anyway,’ he mumbled. ‘Probably nothing to it. Just … imagining things. I mean I have been working a lot of hours.’

  I stayed as silent as I could, but boy I felt bad. Listening in to someone’s private rantings at the moon wasn’t my proudest moment, but it was either that or reveal myself.

  He sniffed the air suddenly, then said, ‘Wanda?’

  I continued with my earlier resolution of staying put. I think it would have worked very well – y’know, if he hadn’t left the steps and walked towards the bins.

  ‘I know you’re there, Wanda. I can smell your perfume.’

  I stood up slowly, sniffing my wrists. ‘Really? I thought it was worn off by now. What are you? A werewolf?’

  He let out a dry chuckle. ‘I wish I were right now. I’m guessing that lot are enjoying the full moon way more than I am. So what are you doing here at nearly four in the morning? And …’ He looked me up and down. ‘Wearing ceremonial robes while you’re at it? Oh.’ He gave a nod of understanding. ‘It must have been your initiation night tonight, right?’

  I bit my lip. ‘Um, yeah. Yeah it was. Hey, I thought you said your dad didn’t have a familiar.’ Crap. Will my great big mouth never learn?

  Surprisingly, Will didn’t scowl at the question. He shrugged and said, ‘He doesn’t. That’s just the latest cat he’s trying to train. Y’know, so that people will think he has a familiar.’

  ‘But I heard the cat talk.’

  ‘Plenty of animals talk. Doesn’t mean they’re familiars.’

  ‘So what’s the difference then?’ Yeah, I was still asking questions. Call it my go-to reaction when backed into a corner. Or my go-to when forced out of a corner behind some bins. You know what I mean. Either way, I couldn’t stop myself.

  Will slumped down onto the steps. ‘The difference? Oh, I dunno. A familiar chooses a witch because it wants to be with them. My dad and a bunch of others in our coven just never had that happen for them – I think I told you about it before.’

  I found myself smiling suddenly, remembering the moment he told me. ‘You did. It was when I met your familiar. Fred.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Will’s face darkened a little. ‘Yeah, that was it. In my bedroom. When you were using me to get information on my coven.’

  I don’t know whether it was the moonlight, the wine, or the secret sprinkles, but I found myself wishing so hard that there was a way for him to get over that. For us to … I don’t know …not be members of covens who were in constant strife with one another.

  ‘So they’ve taken to buying magical animals and attempting to bond with them,’ he went on, speaking with a clipped tone. ‘Don’t ask me how. I have no idea what spells are involved. That cat is the first one who’s stayed with my dad more than five minutes, so I guess the spells are getting better.’ He glanced up at me. ‘And don’t say it’s despicable or weird or any of that. It’s nothing of the sort. It’s embarrassing not having a familiar. My dad just wants to fit in.’

  ‘I think I can understand that,’ I said. I really could. I had tried and failed to master wizardry for years on end, hoping it would make up for not having any innate magic.

  ‘Oh really? You can understand, can you? Well, gee, I’m just so grateful for that.’ Seeing as he was practically spitting his words, I have a feeling there might have been a little bit of sarcasm there. ‘Look, I’m beyond annoyed that you’re here spying on my coven, Wanda. Again. Don’t for a minute think that I’m not. I’m just too tired to shout at you again right now. But if you could just leave, and stop annoying me, that’d be great.’

  I looked at my broom. I could be out of here in a second. With hyper-speed, I could be at home and in bed in less than ten. ‘I wasn’t spying. Well, not initially. At first I was just flying on my new broom. Then I saw the light on here and I got curious.’ I wanted to add how he had looked so tired that I was worried about him, but I doubted he’d believe me.

  ‘It’s a great broom.’ He gave it an appreciative once-over. ‘You probably won’t want to fly the one I got you even when the Minister finally allows it.’

  I set the broom against the wall and sank down next to him. The step was cold against my bum and thighs, but Will’s body was warm, and close. ‘So everyone knows about the many restrictions I’m under, huh?’

  ‘Are you asking if everyone knows you’ve been banned from doing magic or investigating any Wayfair cases until you’ve passed the gazillion or so exams she’s making you take between now and Halloween? Yeah, everyone knows about it. My coven happen to think it’s hilarious.’ He looked intently at me. ‘But I won’t tell on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  I blinked, gulping a little. My throat felt dry. We were an inch apart at most, and he hadn’t moved away. Not only that, but he had now been looking me in the eye for eight seconds, and hadn’t yet looked away. ‘Really? You won’t tell the Minister? I thought you’d be only too happy to tell her you caught me snooping.’

  He let out another dry chuckle. ‘So we’re finally agreed that snooping is what you were doing here. And no, Wanda, I wouldn’t be happy to dob you in. If anyone deserves to be a Wayfair, it’s you. Oh, and by the way, I don’t mean that as a compliment.’

  ‘Right. Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And y’know, I will be riding the broom you got me as soon as I’m allowed. I still count it as the best present anyone’s ever given me.’

  His lashes flickered, and he finally pulled his eyes away from mine, clearing his throat. ‘Yeah, well … look, Wanda, I know you can’t help being nosy and suspicious and interfering and annoying. It’s in your blood. But there isn’t anything to snoop on here. No one in my coven has done anything wrong. Good Gretel, we’ve lost enough people of our own in this whole mess.’

  My skin began to itch again. ‘What do you mean you’ve lost people? There haven’t been any Berrys reported missing.’

  He snorted. ‘Oh, it’s been reported all right. We’ve asked the Minister to keep it away from the Wayfairs, though. Y’know, because we hate you all with a passion ever since you had Alice thrown into jail.’

  I decided not to take that one personally. ‘So why are you telling me now?’

  He shrugged. ‘So you’ll finally believe we have nothing to do with missing people or skeletons and leave me the hell alone. And also because I know you can’t tell anyone about it, even your coven. Because if you do, I will tell the Minister you were working a case here tonight.’

  Once again, I decided not to take it personally. Sure, a minute ago I’d been convinced that there was still something between us and now he was going out of his way to remind me that it’d be a cold day in hell before that happened. But there were more important things right now than how much I was hurting. ‘Who went missing?’

  He looked down at his knuckles. ‘Our architect was the first – my uncle Harry. He’s my mother’s brother. Then a few more workers. It’s eased off now but … like I said, we’ve had losses of our own, Wanda. We’re just as in the dark about this as everyone else is, so you’re wasting your time investigating us.’

  Actually, everything he was telling me was making me positive that there really was something to investigate here. ‘It could be important, Will. If you could at least tell me where they were when they disappeared, and when it happened, and–’

  His jaw began to saw. ‘Leave it, Wanda. I mean it.’

  I tried to make him look at me again, but he was being so ridiculously stubborn. Well, two could play at that game. ‘Please, Will. This isn’t about how much you hate me or my coven. This is about people’s lives. I know you know more than you’re saying. What about the plans you were looking at? Why would you bother when the building’s almost finished? Like your dad said, there’s only finishing touches left.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘You just don’t stop do you? I don’t know how you managed to fool me before.
I mean, you were just like this, asking questions the whole time, but dumb old me couldn’t see it.’

  Again, I have to blame it on the secret sprinkles, because I found myself grasping his hands, forcing his eyes to mine and saying, ‘I was not fooling you, Will. I liked you. So much.’

  He stared back at me. This time, it got past nine seconds before he pulled away. Nine seconds of looking at his sea-green eyes. Nine seconds of hearing his heart thump just as loud as mine. Nine seconds until he stood up, ripping his hand from mine as though I’d burned him. He backed away from the steps, glowering at me. ‘You’re good, Wanda. You’re really good. But you know what they say. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice … well, that’s never going to happen. Now get out of here before I call the Peacemakers and report you for trespassing.’

  I wanted to stand my ground, to grab him and shake him by the shoulders. Because there really was so much more at stake here than me and Will. Instead, I held my hands up and sighed. ‘Fine. I’ll go. But you know as well as I do, the Minister and her Peacemakers are just about the worst people to have handling your missing people. And assuming your uncle Harry and the others are all witches, then finding them is Wayfair jurisdiction. It’s my coven’s investigation. And even you must see that the Wayfairs are the best people to help you find your uncle. The Minister and your coven are breaking the law by hiding it from us. Because why? To get one over on us? Is your uncle’s life worth getting the last laugh, Will?’

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘You said you’d go, and yet here you are, still prattling away. Nothing is your investigation right now, Wanda. And it won’t be your coven’s either. Because if you tell them about this, I will tell the Minister on you.’ He grabbed my broom from where I’d propped it against the wall and threw it at me. ‘Take the hint, Wanda. Leave.’

  ‘Fine.’ I swung my leg over the broom. ‘Have it your way, Will. But you’re making a mistake in letting the Peacemakers handle this, and you know it.’

 

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