Bottling It (A Wayfair Witches' Cozy Mystery #1)

by A. A. Albright

  ‘It’s unusual for a trial to take place so soon after the plea hearing,’ she said to the camera. ‘But in the case of Mildred Valentine, I doubt the Wyrd Court could afford to wait. Not even Wyrd News Nightly has been granted access to this trial, but we’ve heard word that things are really hotting up inside, with the arrival of a surprise witness …’

  We pushed past the crowd and banged on the door. A moment later, a tall, broad Peacemaker glared through. ‘Oh yay, it’s more Wayfairs,’ he said. Somewhere beneath his helmet, I think he wrinkled his nose. ‘Just what this trial needs.’

  My mother squared up to him. ‘I’ll have none of your nonsense, young man. Stand aside.’

  ‘Can’t. No one else is allowed in. Trial’s in progress.’ He took a look at her brooch – a new addition. Wisely, he said nothing.

  My mother narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. Good Gretel, no one in their right mind would refuse her when she looked like that. ‘I can’t really blame you. It’s not your fault that Peacemakers aren’t required to study Magical Law. But had you gained a degree, then you would know that it is against the law for the Wyrd Court to refuse entry to a Wayfair. At any time. So move aside.’

  The burly guard opened the door, and we pushed past him. ‘Is that true?’ I whispered.

  My mother shrugged. ‘It is for now. But I have a feeling they’ll be changing that particular law after today.’

  The building was huge, with signs for countless government offices leading off the main hall. Luckily, my mother knew where the courtroom was, and we dashed along as fast as our legs could carry us.

  Although we burst through the doors as loudly and dramatically as we could manage, not a single head turned in our direction.

  ‘So much for making an entrance,’ said my mother.

  The courtroom wasn’t nearly as thronged as the street outside, but it was far, far louder. And poor Lassie seemed to be taking the brunt of the anger. People were on their feet, shouting out obscenities at her. A box of dog biscuits flew through the air, whacking her square on the forehead.

  ‘Come on!’ I cried. ‘Where did they even get them? Lassie’s a surprise witness. How could they possibly have known that she was going to be here?’

  My mother sighed. ‘They didn’t need to know. Materialization spell. I ought to materialize a boil the size of the moon on whoever threw them at the poor girl.’ As her eyes scanned the crowd I had no doubt that, if she found the culprit, she would be as good as her word.

  I took in the scene. There was an auburn-haired judge seated behind a long, polished bench. She wore full robes in a nice shade of purple, and her ceremonial witch hat sat askew on her head as she furiously pounded her gavel. ‘I will have quiet while the witness gives her evidence. Any more antics, and I’ll throw you all out. I’m looking at you, lawyers.’

  She glared down at the benches below her. A lawyer who I sensed was a witch sat back in her seat, pocketing a rubber ball she had been about to throw. Her fellow lawyers pocketed various chew toys, balls and – I narrowed my eyes – yet another box of dog biscuits.

  ‘They’re the lawyers for the prosecution,’ said my mother, pointing her finger at the one with the dog biscuits. ‘Each and every one of them is employed by the Wyrd Court. It’s their job to prove Mildred guilty.’ As her finger stayed pointing, the dog-biscuit thrower suddenly developed a very large, red lump on the tip of his nose.

  I scanned the courtroom for faces I knew. Adeline, Christine and Max were sitting just behind the second table of lawyers – the vampires, judging by their pallor and dramatic make-up (yes, vampires do like dark red lipstick and black eyeliner – some things are clichés because they’re true). Mildred’s husband Basil was sitting next to the vampire lawyers. He wore a slightly different pair of sunglasses, but other than that he looked very much the same as he had when his tongue was down Alice Berry’s throat – in other words, he still made my skin crawl.

  On the other side of the court, I saw Will Berry sitting next to his aunt and a row of people I guessed were other Berrys. Alice was wringing her fingers, glaring at Lassie, Adeline, Christine and Max.

  Mildred Valentine was seated close to the front of the court, for all to see. Her chair was raised up a little, and there was a strange haze surrounding her.

  ‘It’s called a Vampire-Proof … thingy. Extra barriers are needed with vampires,’ my mother whispered as we found some empty seats close to the front. ‘This way, she won’t be able to vaporize or turn into a bat.’

  I nodded absentmindedly, keeping my eye on my mother’s brooch. ‘It’s all right,’ I whispered. ‘Not long now.’

  The brooch emitted a sound that was just a little on the huffy side.

  ‘I have a feeling he’s losing his patience,’ I said. ‘Should we let him out now?’

  ‘Maybe,’ my mother replied. ‘Oh, wait. Things are calming down. That lawyer is saying something.’

  The judge’s gavel pounding had relaxed. She fixed one of the lawyers with a wary glare and said, ‘Go on with what you were saying, Mr Rundt. Oh, and just in case you forget again – you are not a performer. This is a courtroom, not the stage. So just do your job and stick to the facts.’

  Mr Rundt gave the judge an obsequious smile and turned to the jury. Just like the lawyers for the prosecution, each and every member of the jury was a witch. Given that the defendant was a vampire, it hardly seemed like the fairest of set-ups.

  ‘A few minutes ago,’ Mr Rundt began. ‘We thought this trial over and done with. We have a defendant with motive, opportunity and – let’s not forget – a whole lot of evidence to mark her as the murderer. Why wouldn’t we think it was all wrapped up? I don’t know about you guys, but I was getting ready to go home to my bed and my cocoa – or maybe my brandy, eh?’ He winked and the jurors laughed. ‘But then a Wayfair arrived. And with her, she brought this weredog.’ He turned from the jury and sneered at Lassie. ‘Now, I’m not seated where you are. I can’t make up your minds for you. But let’s consider this. At the very last moment, a weredog appears from nowhere and tells us that not only is Mildred Valentine not guilty, but that the beloved and respected Alice Berry is. I mean … seriously?’

  The jury laughed.

  Lassie let out a low growl. ‘I didn’t say that Alice alone was responsible. I told you her boyfriend – Mildred’s husband – was behind it too. And I also told you that Alice Berry admitted it all to me and three Wayfairs and a chronicler and my cousin Max this afternoon. Just what is it that you’re having trouble believing?’

  The lawyer raised a brow at the jury. ‘Weredogs, am I right?’

  The jury laughed. The judge pounded her gavel once more. ‘What did I say about performing, Mr Rundt? This is a serious proceeding,’ she said. ‘I will not have you making little jokes to woo the jury.’ She cleared her throat. ‘However, despite the annoying way he went about it, Mr Rundt did make some valid points. In the case against Mildred Valentine, we have evidence. Real evidence. But in the case for her defence, we have only the word of a weredog.’

  ‘And a chronicler and a Wayfair and another weredog!’ Christine shouted out.

  More uproar ensued. This was getting ridiculous. No, this had gone past ridiculous and was heading into an altogether different realm. This was the world I’d finally been allowed to enter? It didn’t seem quite so shiny and wonderful anymore. I stood up, pulled the brooch from my mother’s bodice, and approached the judge.

  ‘Actually!’ I shouted. ‘I have another witness right here!’

  Finally, the courtroom grew quiet as, in my hands, the brooch began to grow. Within seconds, Mike the accountant was standing on the floor beside me, a ream of paper and a box of videotapes in his hands.

  ‘And who are you?’ asked Judge Redvein.

  ‘Mike Griffin,’ he said quietly. ‘Formerly the accountant to the Berry Coven. I’m the one Alice made plant Mildred Valentine’s fingerprints all over Berrys’ Bottlers. And she made me plant the Ber
ry Good Go Juice recipe in Mildred’s house. And I also have all of the missing security footage from each and every attack, plus the footage from Berrys’ Bottlers which will prove there never was a break-in, plus …’

  As Mike listed the evidence he’d brought with him, Alice Berry stood up. ‘You dirty little snitch,’ she screamed. ‘I should have killed you too.’ She rounded on me, pointing a finger. I ducked as a bolt of red-hot lightning came my way. Luckily, it only singed my hair. The judge’s bench took the brunt.

  The judge’s voice sounded again, but this time it positively boomed. I guess there was some magic involved, but either way, no one could have failed to hear her as she called out, ‘Peacemakers! Arrest Alice Berry this instant. Alice Berry, you are charged with the murders of Eoin Reynolds, Connor Cramer and Maureen O’Mara, as well as seventeen other attacks. You are also charged with the attempted murder of three Wayfairs, two weredogs and a chronicler.’

  As I watched a group of incredibly large Peacemakers surge towards the Berrys, I couldn’t help but notice that Will was looking right at me. I’d like to say his eyes were filled with love and admiration, but I’d be lying through my teeth. In truth, the look that Will was shooting my way was impossible to fathom.

  I turned to the judge. ‘I think you’ve forgotten someone.’

  She stared blankly back.

  ‘Basil Valentine? He and Alice were in on it together. He turned himself into a big slimy pile of vapoury stuff and whispered the trigger words in quite a few of the attacks. I’m pretty sure Lassie told you all this in the witness stand.’

  Lassie nodded. ‘I did. No one listened.’

  The judge reddened, pounded her gavel and her voice became surround-sound once more. ‘Also, arrest Basil Valentine!’

  The Peacemakers broke into two groups, one dragging Alice kicking and screaming through a door at the back of the courtroom, the other heading for Basil Valentine. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been surrounded with a magical Vampire-Proof thingy like his wife had. Before the Peacemakers could reach him, he turned into a swirl of vapour. If I squinted, I could just about see him. The Peacemakers tried desperately to grasp onto him, but he slipped through every time. A few of them rose into the air, using flying-potions and brooms, chasing him down.

  I wasn’t feeling at all smug when I spied the look of embarrassment on Judge Redvein’s face as Peacemaker after Peacemaker failed to catch Basil. I’m sure my mother was feeling equally un-smug when she approached the bench, leaned closer to the judge and said, ‘Y’know, I might just know a Wayfair who’d be able to catch him. Pity we can’t get warrants to arrest vampires, isn’t it?’

  Judge Redvein scowled. ‘Fine,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘You have the warrant.’

  ‘Christine!’ my mother called across the courtroom. ‘We have the warrant to arrest Basil! Time for you to do your stuff.’

  With a slightly crazed grin on her face, Christine stood up, focused on Basil’s vapour (why does that sound far ickier than it is?) and began to mumble.

  20.Goodbye Old Familiar

  I left the courtroom before the others, stopping briefly to thank Mike for all he’d done. He hadn’t exactly been pleased to see me when I turned up on his doorstep with my mother in tow. But after I told him about Alice’s attempt to murder Lassie, he knew he could well be next. If Alice was getting rid of anyone who knew what she’d done, then Mike would be very high on that list.

  We had hoped that Mike wouldn’t have to testify. In an ideal world, the jury would have taken Lassie at her word, and Mike could have kept himself off the Berrys’ radar. But the world of the supernatural was as far from ideal as the human world. Even when my mother and I asked Mike to come ‘just in case’ we both knew he would certainly be needed. So she had done what she refused to do to her familiar – she had charmed him into a brooch.

  My mother worked even more magic before we ever took Mike to the Wyrd Court. Protection spells had been set around his house, and Mike and his family should be safe from any retribution the Berrys’ might think of enacting. We promised him that the Wayfairs would always keep an eye on him, just in case.

  After my brief goodbye to Mike, my mother told the others that we’d join them back at the coven’s house soon. First, I needed her to take me back to my own place.

  ≈

  I took her hand and held on tight while she clicked her fingers. When we arrived back in my bedroom, I thought we were too late.

  I rushed towards the chair next to my bed. ‘No, Dudley!’ I cried, snuggling into his tiny, stinking body. ‘I wanted to say goodbye.’

  He opened an eye, making both my mother and me scream out loud.

  ‘Good Gretel!’ cried my mother. ‘We thought you were …’

  He fluffed his little cotton ball pillow and sat up. ‘Not quite,’ he said, his voice weak. ‘But it won’t be long. I can feel it happening. And seeing as I’m dying, I guess that means that you finally caught Maureen’s murderer?’

  I nodded. ‘Alice has been arrested. Basil almost got away, but Christine froze him just in time. It’s all over, Dudley.’

  He closed his eyes, let out a little sigh, and said, ‘Thank you both. Maureen was right about you, Wanda. You’re the real–’ He paused on a stuttering breath. ‘The real … deal.’

  With those words, he stopped moving.

  ‘Are you messing with us, Dudley?’ I asked shakily. ‘Are you going to open your eyes again and make us jump out of our skins?’

  He still didn’t move. My mother gently touched his tiny body. ‘There’s no heartbeat, Wanda,’ she told me. ‘Nothing at all. I think he’s really dead.’

  With a shaky hand, I stroked his body. She was right. There was no sign of life. ‘Dudley’s not dead,’ I told her. ‘He’s just gone to join his witch.’ And while I said it, for some stupid reason, I was wiping away tears.

  ≈

  I hadn’t been to Riddler’s Cove since the Winter Solstice before last – or was it the one before that? Either way, it was time to stop avoiding the place where I was born. Even I knew that it was customary to bury a familiar next to their witch, and I was not going to let Dudley down.

  ‘I’ll take you there,’ said my mother. ‘I know the graveyard in Riddler’s Cove all too well.’

  I looked down at Dudley’s little body. ‘I’d like you to go with me, but I think … I think it’s time I finally learned to travel myself. I’m going to try clicking my fingers. I think it’s what Dudley – and Maureen O’Mara – would want.’

  My mother smiled. ‘I think you’re right. But you’ve not learned how to travel to particular coordinates yet. Do you remember the graveyard well enough to bring the image to mind?’

  ‘No.’ It shamed me to admit it, but I visited my father’s grave as little as possible. I hadn’t been there for years and, when I did go, I just felt like I was talking to an empty casket. Probably because I was talking to an empty casket; his body had never been found. ‘But there’s somewhere I remember really well. The field behind our house? Can we both go there and walk the rest of the way to the graveyard.’

  Her eyes grew a little misty. I knew her memories of that field were just as fond as mine. That was where my father used to test-fly his brooms. Sometimes we’d spread out a picnic blanket and sit there, watching him as he soared into the sky.

  She nodded. ‘I think it’s the perfect destination for your first attempt. You go first, and I’ll follow behind.’

  I picked Dudley up, placing him gently in the crook of my arm. With the image of that beautiful field in my mind, I clicked my finger.

  ≈

  The sun was setting over Riddler’s Cove when I arrived. The field was full of early-ripened barley, shining golden in the sunset. Being there after all these years brought a strange, constricted feeling to my chest. I missed my father more than I cared to admit.

  Luckily, my mother arrived straight after me, saving me from my tears. ‘You did it,’ she told me, her face shining with p
ride. ‘Today, on your twenty-first birthday of all times, you’ve performed an incredibly complicated freezing spell, put two murderers in prison, and travelled all by yourself for the very first time. Not bad for a witch who thought she’d never get her power.’

  I shrugged. ‘I could give you some humble brag or other in response, but let’s just bury Dudley and get back for the party.’

  She wrapped her arm around me, and we made our way through Riddler’s Cove. The stores I remembered were all shut for the evening. I looked longingly into the window of Caulfield’s Cakes. Now that I could travel at the click of a finger, I’d be eating a lot more unhealthily.

  The tavern, a place called Three Witches Brew was the only business still open at that hour. There were a few witches seated outside, enjoying an evening drink.

  When I was a child, Three Witches Brew had been the only tavern in town. If that was still the case, then it meant it was where Will had bought that broom. I was just about to tell my mother about the broom when she said, ‘Here we are. Just on the hill.’

  She opened a rickety wooden gate and entered the Witches’ Graveyard. The hill was low and wide. From the side we approached, we had a view of the whole town. It was larger than I remembered. I could see the huge mansions on the east side, juxtaposed by our own old house, closer to the hill. I’d never thought much about it when I was a kid, but looking at Wayfarers’ Rest now, I realised just how much magic was holding my childhood home together. Like Crooked College, the upper floors were far too wide to be supported by the floors below. And yet there it stood, immovable and – in its own way – the most perfect house in the world.

  We found Maureen’s grave on the west side of the hill. A hawthorn tree shaded her from the sun, and there was a stunning view of the sea, sparkling in the last of the evening’s light. There was a tiny grave right next to hers, already dug.