by T J Green
“Yeah, me too. I feel a bit guilty.”
Eve shrugged. “It’s your magic, you were entitled to it. Don’t let Caspian get you down. Or Zane or Mariah.”
Avery looked at her blankly. “Who?”
She nodded discretely across the room to where Caspian stood talking to the beady-eyed man from Bodmin, and the blonde witch. “Those two talking to Caspian. Their families had strong links with the Favershams, but without the support of the others, they’re no threat to you. Besides, they won’t attack you, not like the Favershams did. They just like to suck up to them.” She watched them for a few seconds more, and Avery wondered what they were talking about, but then Eve reached out to clink her glass with her own. “Cheers, Avery, welcome to the Council. Prepare to be called upon. Now that you’re one of us, you’ll be involved in lots of things.”
3
Avery had been staring at the words for so long that they’d started to blur. She rubbed her eyes and glanced around, trying to refresh her concentration.
She was in the attic of her flat, and the long shadows of twilight were spreading across the room. The windows under the eaves were open, and the scent of dust, roses, and pollen drifted in, mingling with incense. She sighed, rolled her shoulders, and then looked back at the page, determined not to be defeated by the last few words.
The spell, like many of the others in her newly found, old grimoire, the one she now called Helena’s, was written in tiny, spidery writing. The ink was faded in places, but was still just about legible. Avery pulled her own familiar grimoire towards her, picked up her pen, and continued the transcription. Although other witches had added notes to the spells over the years, she was reluctant to write in Helena’s grimoire, worried about damaging it. It was far better preserved than it should be, having been protected from dampness and the effects of time by a spell; she could feel the tingle of magic every time she touched the book. In an effort to protect it from further handling, she’d found another spell that worked to cover the book’s pages and binding.
Over the past few days, Avery had spent a lot of time examining Helena’s grimoire and still couldn’t get over the fact that she now possessed this precious item. The worn leather cover felt warm to her touch, and a faint smell of musk and vanilla drifted up from its pages.The first spell she was determined to read and master was the one that allowed flight. She wasn’t sure if that was the right word for it, but it was the one she was certain Caspian used to wrap himself up in shadows and air and move from one place to the other. The spell was called the Flight of Spirits, but wasn’t anything to do with spirit walking. She carefully transcribed the last few lines and copied the notes made in the margins, then put down the pen. Unlike many spells, there were no ingredients in this one, just repeated lines of incantation that she could only presume got easier with familiarity, as Caspian disappeared with undeniable speed.
She re-read the instructions, and then said the words.
At first, nothing happened, and then the air began to stir around her, gently to start, and then with increasing speed until she felt she stood at the centre of a tornado. Fear gripped her, but she fought through it, strengthened by everything she had experienced in the last few days.
I am a witch, a powerful witch, and I can do this.
She repeated the spell over and over again, her voice strengthening, and she varied the modulations in her tone and words, suddenly realising the meaning of one of the scribbled notes in the margin.
And then it happened. The wind whipped through her and she felt her body pull apart, and then she was standing in her living room and everything went black.
***
Avery stirred, feeling the rug beneath her cheek, and her hip pressing into the floor. Ouch. Her head felt like it had been trapped in a vice.
She was aware there was a soft, warm bundle of fur pressing against her arm, and as she moved, the cat stirred, meowing softly. It was Circe. She sounded very different to Medea. Avery patted her, comforted that she wasn’t lying there completely alone, and then eased into a sitting position. Nausea washed through her. How long had she been out for?
It was darker now, the sky carrying only the tiniest hint of light, but she could make out the clock on the wall glowing with faint luminescence. It was after nine, which meant she’d been unconscious for just over an hour. Wow. But she grinned; she had moved from one room to another—a partial success, at least.
She dragged herself to her feet and headed to the kitchen, pouring a large glass of water that she downed in one go. That was a powerful spell. She hadn’t felt that drained even after they’d broken the binding spell. All she wanted to do now was sleep, but she’d arranged to meet the others at Alex’s pub, The Wayward Son, and she had lots to share. And besides, she wanted to see Alex again.
She downed another glass of water and decided now was not the time to try that spell again. She’d better walk instead.
***
The other four witches and Newton were already in Alex’s flat above the pub when Avery arrived, and they looked at her in alarm when she entered.
El, tall and blonde, with legs up to her armpits, was dressed in her usual black jeans and rock t-shirt. She owned a jewellery shop called The Silver Bough, and silver piercings of her own design sparkled in the lamp light. She leaned against the kitchen counter, holding a bottle of beer, and frowned. “Avery! Are you all right? You look terrible.”
“Do I? Why?” she asked, running her hand through her hair.
“You’re white.”
Alex was in the kitchen, placing some cheese and biscuits on platters, but he walked around the counter, frowning with concern. “What happened? Is it the Favershams?”
“No, I’m fine. Honestly, everyone relax. I wasn’t attacked.” She held her hand up as Reuben, Briar, and Newton all turned from where they sat on the sofa or the floor cushions. “I was trying a spell, and it was really hard.”
“What spell?” El asked, coming closer to examine her.
“The flight spell, you know—swirly wind and mysterious disappearance and reappearance.”
“Bloody Hell, Avery, you shouldn’t be trying that on your own,” Alex said gruffly. He pulled her in to a hug.
“Why not?” she asked, enjoying his unexpected display in front of the others and still feeling self-conscious about it. “We’re all trying different spells on our own. Otherwise, how do we learn?”
“It’s a fair point,” Briar said. She owned Charming Balms Apothecary and sold lotions, soaps, candles, bath products, creams, and salves. She was dark-haired, petite, and very good at healing and Earth magic. “I’ve been brewing different potions solidly for the last two days. We can’t accompany each other all the time.”
“And you, Alex,” Avery said pointedly, following him into the kitchen and grabbing a beer, “are always trying out spirit walking.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “But I don’t look as white as a sheet afterwards.”
“I admit, I passed out for an hour,” she said sheepishly, “but I did move rooms.”
“Wow!” Newton said, looking shocked. “That’s impressive!”
“I know!” she said, grinning. “Next time will be better. I’ll be awake to enjoy it more.”
“Pretty cool,” Reuben said, nodding in agreement. Reuben, also tall, blond, and an avid surfer, was trying to master water elemental magic. “You’ll have to teach us all when you’ve mastered it.”
Avery joined them in the living room area, Alex and El close behind with snacks. “I will, and you guys will have to share some of your new skills, too.”
“So what happened at the meeting, Avery?” Briar asked, leaning forward to grab a cracker and cheese.
“It was interesting. I had no idea that so many other witches were in Cornwall. I feel we’ve been missing out for a long time—but not anymore!” She related the events of the previous night. “I’d love you all to meet them. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”
N
ewton frowned. “But you say they’re all experiencing some unusual supernatural activity?”
She nodded. “That’s a very good way of putting it. Yes, they are. Every single place is having spirit activity at the moment, and it’s probably only just beginning. And they gave us a warning about Mermaids. They’re deadly. We have to be on our guard.”
“Mermaids? Is that a joke? Have I missed something?” Reuben asked, a cracker halfway to his mouth.
“Sorry Reuben, I wasn’t sure if Alex had told you. I had a visitor at the shop the other day.” She filled them in on Caleb and the lights.
“Great. A few more risks with surfing, then,” Reuben said. “I thought Mermaids were hot?”
“No. Not hot, just killers,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Shouldn’t we warn people?” Briar said.
“Yeah, sure,” Reuben said, nodding. “I’ll let the Coastguard know, and we’ll put a sign on all the beaches. ‘Beware, Mermaid attacks, stick to the orange buoys.’”
“Oh sod off,” Briar said. “That’s not quite what I meant.”
“Seriously,” Reuben said, looking at her incredulously. “What could we do?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, “but the locals are looking to us for advice. I’ve had several veiled questions already about whether I offer any other services. I wasn’t sure what to say, if I’m honest. I just mumbled and said have a nice day. What are we supposed to do?”
“Well,” El said, “the few charms and amulets I sell have sold out. A couple of girls who live in an old cottage said they keep feeling really cold draughts around the place. They’re convinced they’re being haunted, and I think they’re right. I’m making lots of new charms and amulets, because as we all know, this is just the start. Unfortunately, Sebastian was right. We’ve started something, and we need to protect the town.”
“Okay, I have to ask,” Newton said, frowning. “Do some people know you’re witches? Why did this old guy come to you, Avery? Why ask Briar and El for help?”
Alex shook his head. “No one knows anything. Some of the locals know of Avery’s family history, and Avery, El, and Briar’s shops trade on herbs, amulets, tarot, and the occult.”
Avery added, “Dan and Sally told me that some locals suspect our magic—my magic—may be a bit more authentic than others, but it doesn’t worry anyone, yet.”
“We all know some of the other shop owners that trade on the supernatural, and there’s the fake tarot reader at the back of the Angels as Protectors shop—they have had all sorts of enquiries,” Alex continued. “It’s that sort of town, Newton. Magic, or the pretence of it, is our lifeblood. Bloody Hell, we even have Stan from the Council dressing up as a druid for the pagan celebrations! Not many other towns openly celebrate those. Those rumours are what make White Haven so popular.” He looked slightly rueful. “It just so happens that things may get a little more real for a while.”
“You’re right,” El acknowledged. “I’ve always had the odd question about the extent of what I do, because some people really want to believe. I always kept it vague, because people love intrigue. Zoe, however—my shop assistant—is always honest about her Wicca activities.”
“Well,” Alex said, “I’ve been experimenting with scrying. I’ve had limited success so far, but I’m going to keep trying.”
Newton frowned. “Scrying?”
“The art of divination using water, glass, or mirrors. A useful skill if I can master it. And it allows you a window into someone else’s life.”
“It sounds a bit stalker-y to me. Be careful,” Newton warned.
“I’m not a peeping Tom,” Alex said, annoyed. “I was thinking more about keeping an eye on the Favershams.”
“Still sounds dodgy.”
El interrupted. “Good luck, Alex. I understand it’s a hard skill to learn.”
Reuben put in, “I’ve been meaning to ask, how are the tattoos? Healing okay?”
“I forget I’ve got it,” Avery admitted. “It’s healing nicely.”
“Good. I’ll let Nils know. He was worried you’d been put off tattoos forever.”
“I must admit, I quite like mine,” Briar said, grinning. “I actually might get another.”
Avery suddenly thought of something else from the meeting. “One more thing. We also make up the thirteenth coven of Cornwall, too. It means they’ll call on us for big spells.” She shrugged and grinned. “I think it’s pretty exciting.”
“Sod them,” Reuben said, clearly sticking to his original argument. “They didn’t care before, did they? We need to look after ourselves first.”
“I’m glad you said that,” El said, “because we have a job.”
“We do?” Newton asked, looking at her over his beer.
“Maybe not you, but at least a couple of us. The lights up at the castle are getting worse. One of my regular customers told me today that she saw lights again last night and basically said, if you have any other mojo going on, sort out the castle because the town is going to freak out sooner rather than later.”
“Have you seen them?” Briar asked her.
“No, anyone else?”
They all shook their heads.
Avery frowned. “I guess we’ve been too preoccupied. What did you say, El?”
“I merely smiled enigmatically, and told her I’d see what I could do.”
“Interesting. And what are you going to do?”
“Rope you lot into a banishing spell, of course,” El said. “We’ve been able to let some of the milder spirit activity play out, but I don’t think we can ignore this.”
“Spirit banishment seems to be my area of speciality, so of course I’m happy to go,” Alex said, reaching forward to get more food.
“Me too,” Avery agreed. “I’m trying to increase my knowledge in all sorts of stuff at the moment.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Reuben said. “If there’s more spirit activity in White Haven, we all need to be able to deal with it. Count me in.”
“And me,” Briar said.
“I’m coming, too,” Newton chimed in. “I want to know exactly what we’re up against, And I’ll take the shotgun with the salt shells, just in case.”
“Excellent. May as well go now, then,” El decided, grinning.
4
Avery pulled her van into the castle’s car park and frowned. “There’s another car here.”
Alex frowned. “Who the hell is here at this time of night?”
“Kids, probably,” Newton shouted from the back where the others were sitting. “Kids love to spook themselves out with ghost stories.”
“Kids who drive?” Alex said sarcastically.
“Well, teenagers then, Mr Pedantic,” Newton said, annoyed.
“How’re we going to banish spirits with kids around?” Briar asked.
“We’re just going to have to glamour them,” Alex said, as everyone exited the van and set off across the car park and up the path to the castle.
White Haven Castle sat above them on the hilltop, strategically placed to overlook the sea and the surrounding countryside. It was mostly a ruin now, but large sections of the outer walls still remained standing, and the local conservation group had reconstructed some inner walls creating rooms, although the roof had long since gone. A few trees had sprung up over the intervening years, growing both in and around the grounds. The car park had been built a short distance away so as not to mar the grandeur of the ruin.
Lights were placed at regular points along the wall, and were illuminated at various special times of the year, but tonight they were off. However, torchlight bobbed along at the base of the castle walls, and then disappeared.
“Bollocks,” Reuben said, striding ahead with El, “this is going to make things more complicated.”
“Are you sure you don’t need your grimoire?” Avery asked Alex.
“No. I’ve been reading these spells and committing them to memory for days now,” Alex explained.
&
nbsp; Newton was walking alongside them. “What do you mean, ‘spells?’ Do you need more than one to do the same thing?”
“There are many different types of spells to dispel spirits,” Alex said. “In fact, there are many different spells to do all sorts of things. Some work better than others depending on the situation, the witch who’s saying the spells, tone, intonation—it goes on. Just as you need lots of ways to catch criminals, we have lots of ways to do things, too.”
“Fair enough,” Newton said. “What about spells to glamour people?”
Briar answered. “It depends how susceptible they are. It helps if the subject is already attracted to you, too. Men glamour women and vice-versa much more easily. Well, in general, anyway.”
“I hope you haven’t been glamouring me,” Newton said, and Avery smiled to hear the tease in his voice.
“Newton! I would never do that,” Briar said, and then she faltered as the implications of his words sank in.
Alex grinned at Avery, and then at Newton. “Nicely played, Newton.”
If it wasn’t so dark, Avery could have sworn Briar blushed.
“You’re both so funny,” Briar said, trying to brush it off.
Newton just laughed, and then changed the subject as the castle walls loomed above them. “Well, I know I don’t need to say this, but we can’t hurt them—whoever they are.”
“We’ll work it out,” Avery said, trying to reassure him.
Reuben and El were waiting for them under the half-collapsed arch that was once the gated castle’s entrance.
“There seems to be three of them,” El said, pointing to the far side of the courtyard. “We can hear two male voices and one female, and we can see their torches.”
“Any sign of spirit activity?” Alex asked, looking up and around.
“Not yet,” Reuben said.
Suddenly, as if on cue, a scream pierced the night.
“Crap,” Newton said, breaking into a run, the others following.
