Bricking It (A Wayfair Witches Cozy Mystery #2)

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Bricking It (A Wayfair Witches Cozy Mystery #2) Page 15

by A. A. Albright


  I found my eyes drifting over it all in amazement, finally coming to settle on the roof of the Wyrd Court a little way in the distance. I sat down at the table and nudged my mother. ‘Did you know about the original courtroom?’

  She looked up from the card game she was playing with Mr Caulfield and his daughter. ‘What courtroom?’

  ‘The one the first Wanda set up. It’s on the top floor of the Wyrd Court – in the tower. I saw it in my … y’know … my vision thingy. During my initiation. I’m not sure if they intended it as a court of law or just as a political chamber sort of thing. Maybe both, like the Wyrd Court is today. It was amazing, though. Every kind of supernatural was invited.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mr Caulfield let out a kind little laugh. ‘One of those visions. Yeah I had a few of those myself at my own initiation. So did you, didn’t you Emily?’

  Emily giggled. ‘I seem to recall a very strange conversation with a chocolate cake.’

  ‘Oh. Right. I guess that explains it, then.’ I kept looking out at the domed roof. ‘Except that when I went there it was exactly like it was in my vision. When I peeled away the paint on the ceiling I even saw the same magical stars. They shone like crazy, I’m not joking.’

  My mother tilted her head to the side. ‘I remember hearing about some ancient astronomical observatory up there, and that it fell into disrepair. I think there might be something in one of my Magical History books about it. It’ll probably come up in your exam, as a matter of fact.’

  Mr Caulfield nodded excitedly. ‘Yeah, yeah I remember learning about that too. They mapped the stars on the ceiling up there, and they even had some big, ancient telescope.’

  ‘Oh.’ I felt my brow begin to furrow. ‘Well, I guess that makes sense. I didn’t see a telescope, though.’ I was just about to ask to be dealt in to the game when I heard the noise outside begin to rise. I moved back to the window, and while I could hear shouting and music, I couldn’t see anything. My mother, Mr Caulfield and Emily joined me, all of us pressing our noses against the glass to try and get a better look.

  My healer – I had learned her name was Florence – came into the cafeteria and stood beside us. ‘I guess you can hear the racket from up here, now.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Mr Caulfield. ‘We can’t see a thing.’

  Florence nudged me. ‘That is your fan club, Wanda. Apparently Gabriel Godbody from Wyrd News in the Afternoon is leading the rally.’ She gave a funny little shiver. ‘That guy is such a dish.’

  ‘You mean as his real self, right?’ I asked. ‘Because I can kind of see that. Although if you mean the way he is on TV, then I have to question whether you ought to be around so many potent healing potions. They’re clearly having an effect on your judgement.’

  ‘His real self?’ Florence looked bemused, then her face fell. ‘Wait – you don’t mean to tell me that the scruffy guy who comes to visit you with your even scruffier housemate is Gabriel Godbody? The Gabriel Godbody? I thought he looked a bit like him, but I never imagined … ugh!’

  I nodded and bit back a laugh. ‘That’s Gabriel all right. Au naturel.’

  Gabriel and Max were quite the sight together. Since my arrival at the Night and Gale hospital, they’d made many visits to my room, and seemed to be becoming good friends along the way. They shared a fondness for a certain unkempt style. You know, if I just dragged on what I found on the floor could be described as style.

  ‘It sounds really loud.’ I finally managed to magic the window open, and the cries of ‘Make Wanda a Wayfair!’ hit all of our ears. I closed the window again. ‘Did I say really loud? Clearly I meant really really loud. Is anyone else’s ears ringing?’

  ‘Sorry, what did you say?’ Florence smiled. ‘Only joking. I can still hear – just about. I actually came to speak with you about the rally. They’ve been at the steps of the Wyrd Court since first light, and the crowd just keeps getting bigger. So … the Minister has decided that she’d like a meeting with you.’

  My mother put her hands to her hips. ‘Oh, she has, has she? I bet she has. I bet she’s just squirming in her fancy trouser-suit as we speak. Well, she can squirm a bit longer, I say.’

  I squeezed her arm. ‘It’s all right, Mam. I’ll go. I think it’s about time we sorted things out – although I’d prefer it if you came along too.’ I looked at Florence. ‘When does she want to have this meeting?’

  ‘As soon as possible. She told me she’s cancelled everything else on her books for the day. So if you want you can go right now.’

  ‘Well then.’ I raised a brow at my mother. ‘Are we ready to get our glad rags on?’

  ≈

  Dizzy decided not to accompany us – he’d had a bit too much daylight lately, so he stayed behind for a nap.

  Travelling by magic was still a bit beyond my mother and I, so we opted to walk to the Wyrd Court. Florence offered to take us, but I figured (hoped) that by the time it took us to walk there, I might have thought of something clever to say to the Minister.

  The closer we drew to the Wyrd Court, the denser the crowd became. People seemed to recognise us (apparently our images had been used in the news quite a lot over the recent days), so they stood aside to let us through. As we neared the steps, I could see Melissa, Christine and Max handing out flyers, while Gabriel (in his full TV persona) spoke through a megaphone. It wasn’t a regular megaphone. It was almost see through, and it shimmered in the air. When he spoke, it seemed to pulse along with his voice.

  ‘Yesterday evening,’ he said. ‘the Minister announced on Wyrd News Nightly that Wanda Wayfair would never see another investigation again!’

  Well, that was news to me. Hardly a surprise, but news nonetheless. I looked at my mother for confirmation.

  ‘I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you,’ she said. ‘I suppose I was hoping for a miracle in the meantime.’

  ‘Oh well.’ I took in a deep breath and began to mount the steps. ‘I knew it was coming. But you know what? If I had to do it all over again, I’d probably do the exact same things.’

  She gave me a little squeeze. ‘Of course you would. That’s why this is the stupidest decision the Minister has ever made in her whole miserable life. We need as many brave witches as we can get.’

  A brave witch or just a foolish one? I wasn’t sure which I was, but I didn’t see myself changing anytime soon.

  Gabriel hadn’t seen us yet – neither had the majority of the crowd other than the few who had let us through – so he kept speaking. ‘I did ask the Minister to come and chat with me on my afternoon show,’ he went on. ‘But for some reason, she declined my offer. So I thought … if the Minister won’t come to the show, then why not take the show to her?’

  His teeth glinted as he grinned. As the crowd cheered, the women (and a few of the men) among their number gazed at him with adoring eyes.

  ‘I know why I’m here!’ Gabriel shouted. ‘I’m here because Wanda Wayfair, the girl who singlehandedly tracked down Kilian Berry, should be lauded. Instead, she’s being unjustly punished by the Minister for Magical Law. But we’re going to change that, aren’t we?’

  A deafening cry came from the crowd. I covered my ears and walked to Gabriel. His face lit up. ‘And here she is now! Let’s let out a cheer for her, hey?’

  It was a little bit surreal to hear my name chanted by so many people. Gabriel lowered the megaphone and whispered, ‘It’s good to see you up and about. Do you want to say anything?’

  ‘Sure,’ I whispered back, looking at the megaphone. ‘If anyone deserves to wait, it’s Justine Plimpton. But … is it operated by magic? Because I don’t have the energy for too much of that right now. I pretty much wiped myself out trying to open a window. And more importantly – I thought you were done with the hair and the personality now that you’ve been outed as a Wayfair.’

  He smiled, almost blinding me with his teeth. ‘Back by popular demand. For some reason, there are a very large number of witches who like me like this. There’s no
accounting for taste, is there? And don’t worry. I’ll look after the megaphone’s magic. You just step up here with me and speak to your crowd.’

  I took the top step next to him. An even louder cry came from the crowd, but as soon as the megaphone floated in front of my face they grew hushed.

  ‘Um, hi.’ I gave a little wave. Emotion was flooding through me. ‘I think you can tell I’m a little bit shocked to see you all here today. Shocked, but incredibly happy. Because when I look out at you all, and when I hear you calling my name and taking my side … I don’t think of it as being for me. I see you all here today and I just think … well, I just think how amazing it is that there are so many witches who understand the difference between right and wrong.’

  My voice was growing shaky, because the crowd had gone way too quiet while I spoke. But I’d already begun embarrassing myself, so I figured I might as well continue. ‘For a long time I stayed away from the witch enclaves, and when I came back again, when I got my power … I have to say, I was deeply saddened by some of the things I saw. For hundreds of years, Wayfairs worked their behinds off to make sure that all supernaturals were safe. We fought every kind of crime and punished every kind of criminal, and we did it because it’s the right thing to do. But these days … these days Wayfairs have been relegated to the sidelines. The Minister and her Peacemakers take over a little more of our jurisdiction every day.’

  I wobbled slightly, feeling weak. Gabriel grabbed me then, helping to keep me upright. The speech was taking all my energy, but I wanted to finish. When I smiled, and the crowd saw I was all right, there was another cheer.

  ‘Thanks.’ I laughed weakly. ‘I’m okay. And I’m all the better because all of you are here. In recent times you’ve all seen with your own eyes that – even though our numbers are woefully low – Wayfairs still work our behinds off to keep you all safe. And yes, I said our behinds. Because no matter what the Minister decides, I consider myself a Wayfair. Like I said a minute ago, all of you here, each and every one of you, you know the difference between right and wrong. You can all see what the Minister can’t. What she should be able to see. You can see that the witch enclaves – and all of the supernatural enclaves – need Wayfairs, now more than ever. So thank you. Thank you all.’ I collapsed against Gabriel again. ‘And now I’m going to let my mother say a few words – because she’s the real backbone of the Wayfair coven.’

  I hovered near the open doors next to Gabriel, Max, Melissa and Christine. Max pressed a bottle of orange juice into my hands. ‘No Dizzy?’

  ‘He’s had a bit too much daylight lately.’ I felt a few dozen eyes behind me and looked into the hall of the Wyrd Court. A line of Peacemakers were scowling out at me.

  ‘The Minister is losing patience with you, Miss Wayfair,’ said one of them. ‘She has been waiting for quite some time.’

  ‘Yeah? Well tell her she can wait a little while longer.’

  I sank down into a folding chair that Melissa brought forward, and listened to my mother talk. Needless to say, she was a whole lot more eloquent than me.

  ≈

  When we finally went to the meeting, my mother opted to stay standing. Justine sat behind her desk, giving me the most irritating smirk in the world while I took a chair in front of her. Now that I was here, I realised I needn’t have bothered rehearsing what to say in my mind. What I’d said outside to the crowd was true – no matter what she decided, I was going to continue working with my coven. It was in my blood.

  ‘Can I get you anything Wanda? Beatrice? You both look positively drained. Maybe a coffee?’

  I felt my teeth begin to grind. ‘Just get on with it, Justine.’

  ‘It’s Minister Plimpton to you.’

  I snorted. ‘In your dreams, Justine. I didn’t vote for you. As a matter of fact … how does that even work here? I’m guessing it’s not a democratic vote, because I just can’t imagine you winning a popularity contest.’

  ‘She didn’t,’ said my mother. ‘The popular vote went to Agatha Oster. Justine got in on the votes from the board at Crooked College. For some reason, the votes of ten old men and women – many of whom happen to be members of the Plimpton coven – count more than those of thousands of witches.’

  I goggled. ‘Seriously? But that sounds like a ridiculous system. Someone should do something about that.’

  Justine smirked again. ‘You two make quite the double act. Really you do. But let’s just get on with this, shall we? I take it you saw me on TV with Wyrd News Nightly’s Sandra last night?’

  Well, I guess I could understand why she wanted to get things over with so quickly – we had already kept her waiting quite some time (I think my mother made her speech extra-long just for kicks). It might have been sensible of me, seeing as she was in charge of Magical Law, to move things along at a decent pace. But I guess I’m not all that sensible. I had spent weeks toeing the line, doing every little thing she asked of me, no matter how unreasonable. Sure, in the end I made a unilateral decision to overrule her. But how could I not? It was either obey her arbitrary nonsense, or go against her and save my mother’s life. I was sick of her rules. I was sick of her. So instead of answer her question directly, I decided that now would be the perfect time to look around her office.

  The room was enormous. She had her own private bathroom, furniture that managed to be both obnoxious and expensive at the same time, and an awful lot of artsy paintings I just couldn’t figure out. Usually I’d say that there’s no such thing as bad taste. But if you could see the inside of this woman’s office, you would come to the same conclusion: there was such a thing as bad taste, and I was surrounded by dozens of examples.

  There was one thing that was totally out of place in her uber-stylish office, and that was the flowery little bed behind her desk, with a white cat curled up inside. He was snoring so loudly, absolutely oblivious to what was going on in the room. ‘Is that your familiar? What’s his name – or hers? Looks like a him.’

  Justine’s eyes began to bulge. Suddenly, she reminded me very much of her sister. ‘His name is Monty. Not that it’s any of your business. I asked you a question, Miss Wayfair. I do not like repeating myself.’

  ‘Oh, was that a question?’ I smiled innocently. ‘I thought it was rhetorical. No, I didn’t see Wyrd News Nightly. I heard about it though. You gave a little speech. Told the whole of the supernatural world that I’m banned from investigations for life or some such. That was pretty brave of you, Justine.’

  I smiled even wider. I guess there must have been something annoying about it (can’t think what) because she looked as though she might actually burst a vein. ‘Stop calling me Justine! You Wayfairs seem to think you don’t have to bow to authority. Well you do. And I am that authority.’ She glared at my mother. ‘I blame you, Beatrice. If she were my daughter she would know better. There would be none of these notions that you seem to have instilled.’

  My mother rolled her eyes. ‘Notions indeed. If she were your daughter she’d be just as incompetent as you and there would still be witches going missing all over the place. Thankfully she’s my daughter – which is why she was able to track down Kilian Berry and stop him before he did any more damage.’

  I grinned up at her. ‘Thanks, Mam. I think you’re awesome too.’

  Justine stood up and banged her hands on her desk. ‘You are both absolutely infuriating, do you know that? I want to get this over with before I have to resort to wringing both your necks. Look.’ She took in a breath and sat down again. ‘Clearly, my statement on last night’s news has been met with a little bit of resistance.’

  I looked at my mother. We both laughed. ‘Sure,’ I said in a deadpan voice. ‘Just a tiny bit.’

  ‘Fine,’ she ground out. ‘A lot of resistance, then. But you do know that it doesn’t matter, right? The public can crib and moan till they’re blue in the face. It won’t do them any good. As you accurately pointed out a moment ago, Beatrice, democracy is not at play in the witch enclaves. Th
ose yobs outside mean about as much to my position as … as … as …’

  ‘It’s a bit of a struggle to think of something clever to say sometimes, isn’t it?’ I let out a little sigh. ‘I blame it on the amount of time you spend with the Peacemakers. Not a lot of intelligent conversation there I imagine. Hey, where did you recruit them from, anyway? Because if they need a glorified wand at their age, then I’d have to wager they didn’t come top of the class.’

  ‘Oh, well you’d know all about wands, wouldn’t you? My sister told me you were useless with your training wand. Anyway, my Peacemakers do not have wands. They have truncheons.’

  ‘Those truncheons are just wands in disguise.’ My mother finally sat beside me. She was wheezing a bit, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. Annoying someone this much could really take it out of you. ‘And everyone knows it. Just like everyone knows that Wanda ought to be a working member of the Wayfair coven.’

  ‘Well.’ Justine let out an uncomfortable cough. ‘That is why we are here today. In light of recent developments, I have decided that perhaps I was a little bit hasty after all. Wanda can continue with her classes. We shall go back to our earlier arrangement. If she passes the remaining three subjects by Halloween, she can become a paid investigator. On the starting wage of course.’

  I did my best to contain my glee. The Minister was giving me the only thing I had ever wanted. Starting wages or not, I was going to be a real Wayfair. But if she was giving in to this so easily, maybe there were one or two things left to negotiate. I glanced at my mother and wiggled my brow in question. She nodded in a way that let me know she was very much on my wavelength, and turned to the Minister.

  ‘I think Wanda might almost agree to that,’ she said. ‘Like I told you before, she’s eager to learn. But it became a bit difficult for her when you and your sister changed the rules, didn’t it?’

 

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