Magic Rising (#4 Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series)

by Camilla Chafer

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I should warn you that my sister will be present.”

  “I know. You just said Seren was coming. Anyway, I talked to her before I left home.” Seren and her husband, David, were my bosses. I did the online support and administration for their business, which principally sold hard-to-find ingredients of the spell craft trade. The work, combined with the rent my houseguests contributed, allowed me enough time and funds to live on, while still pursuing my college studies.

  “My other sister.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. “Astra?”

  Étoile nodded. “I didn’t want you to see her and freak out. We thought you should hear it from me first.”

  “I don’t understand. Why is she coming?”

  “She was invited. She’s better. Well, not perfect yet, but much better. She’s mortified at the things Eleanor forced her to do.”

  I swallowed the panic that threatened to bubble inside. The one and only time I’d seen Astra, I didn’t exactly meet her. Eleanor Bartholomew was using her as a puppet, over whom she manipulated and abused her power. In the end, her already fragile mind teetered on the edge of sanity. Her magic had streaked out of control. I’d been torn wondering whether I should feel sorry for her, or blame her, at least in part, for the events of that day. I couldn’t be certain there wasn’t a little bit of her that allowed her to be manipulated, part of her that was dark; but I couldn’t say those things to her sister. Étoile and Seren were worried sick about their youngest sister during the years Astra was missing. What happened to her was infinitely worse than what Eleanor inflicted on me, or the injuries Evan and Kitty sustained. All the same, I couldn’t help exclaiming, “She should be!”

  “Don’t worry about her, okay? Someone will be with Astra the whole time. You don’t have anything to worry about.” Étoile’s eyes implored me to believe her and I willed myself calm.

  I probably wasn’t the one they should worry about, but it was nice to know Étoile was concerned. “Has someone told Marc?” I asked. The last time I’d seen Marc was at the same horrible occasion. As the son of the Bartholomews, who were both powerful witches, he should have been a warlock of tremendous power, if only his mother had not spellbound him. On her death, his powers were released, but the event was overshadowed by the deaths of his parents. Like Astra, Marc was being used by Eleanor, and no one knew until it was much too late. For a while, I was angry at him for how she manipulated him so effortlessly, but now, in hindsight, I could view the events more objectively and the complicated web of family ties. I only hoped he could forgive me for what I had to do to save us all.

  “He knows,” Étoile replied with an indifferent shrug. “I can’t say he’s happy about her being here, but it’s per the Council’s instructions so there isn’t a lot we can do.”

  “Don’t you ever wonder what the Council is playing at?”

  “All the time,” she sighed.

  “I mean, don’t they think it’s dangerous having us all in the same room?” I asked, thinking of the events no so long ago that had been caused by a surge of power in my neighbourhood, a surge that had brought the Brotherhood to my town.

  “I would hope they know what they’re doing on this one. Besides, there are a lot of grudges they need to navigate through this week and a lot of people who shouldn’t be on the same continent, never mind in the same room. I’m not even sure this issue is all that significant to them.” Étoile didn’t look convinced.

  I pulled a face at her. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

  “Sorry. Don’t worry, okay? I mean it.”

  “You’re remarkably calm about this,” I observed.

  “I have to be. I’ll show you your room,” Étoile said, abruptly changing the subject as she signalled for me to follow. “I wish I had more time to show you the city while you’re here.”

  “Maybe I’ll come back?” I suggested, thinking about the unopened guidebook in my bag. Somehow, I knew sightseeing would be a no-go.

  “Of course, you will.” She opened another door off the entryway and ushered me inside. My suitcase had shifted somehow while we sat in the living room and now rested on its side, atop the comforter. The room was mostly white, except for the wallpaper that hung behind the headboard, which was dappled with silver and the very softest gold. The elegant tones persisted onto the lampshades and the pillows tossed haphazardly on the bed. It was light, airy and lovely. “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful.” I didn’t expect anything less from Étoile. Everything she did was perfectly elegant. It was just her way. Occasionally, I tried to emulate her, but I was more of a jeans and t-shirt girl, whereas her natural grace and refinement was part of her personality.

  “Good. I’m glad you don’t find it too plain.”

  I raised my eyebrows incredulously. Seeing Étoile nervous wasn’t anything common. Somehow, I knew she didn’t care about my opinion regarding her choice of decor, but she didn’t encourage any more conversation. Étoile’s mind was definitely someplace else.

  “I put a key for you on the nightstand and the doorman knows you’re staying here. We’ll be at the Summit throughout the days and most of the evenings are organised events, but if you do get any free time, come and go as you please. There will probably be occasions where we leave the events at different times, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t do as you like.”

  “I can’t shimmer out?”

  “There are wards on this apartment, but I’ll relax them slightly for you. We can shimmer, but others will be prevented.”

  I nodded my understanding. Shimmering wasn’t a common witch skill, from what I gathered, so most witches travelled the regular way, which was good for preventing any unwanted surprises. It also didn’t shock me one bit Étoile had wards protecting her home. “Any house rules?” I asked, wanting to check so I could be a good houseguest.

  She wrinkled her nose in thought, like she’d never been asked that question before. I wondered if I was her first guest. “I prefer not to have people we don’t know here, for safety’s sake. Other than that, just clean up after yourself. Bathroom’s through there. You’ll find towels in… Hold on,” she said as a loud knock sounded on the door. “We’ll finish the tour in a moment.” She went to answer it, leaving me to look around.

  I opened the closet door, found a couple of garment bags and several hangers, but otherwise empty. The second door led to a small shower room. It had another door that I guessed led into the entryway. Stepping back into the bedroom while Étoile spoke to whomever knocked, I smiled. It wasn’t a large room, but it was lovely and my stay would be a lot nicer here than being stuck in the hotel. A moment later, Étoile reappeared, holding a thin white envelope out to me. “This was couriered for you.”

  “What is it?”

  Étoile shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone I was here, except Kitty and Evan. Oh, Annalise too. But they wouldn’t send anything that I can think of.” I took the envelope and slid my thumb under the lip, tearing it open. Extracting the letter, I unfolded it and read it. Then read it again. All the blood that had just returned to my face blanched right out again as I gasped.

  “What is it?” Étoile stepped closer.

  With a trembling hand, I held the letter to her. “It’s from the Council.”

  She took it, scanning the neat type quickly and her jaw set in anger, her lips becoming a thin line. “A summons? What the hell are they playing at?” she snapped.

  Our eyes met. If I’d hoped to find some understanding, I was mistaken. Étoile was just as bewildered as I. It was clear that despite her close ties to the Council, she had no clue this order was being sent to me. “They said I have to present myself to court immediately. What do they mean by ‘court’? Do they mean…” I trailed off, shakily.

  “Criminal court,” Étoile murmured, looking from the letter to me in alarm. “Oh God, Stella, they’re putting you on trial f
or crimes against witches!”

  “What crimes? I haven’t done… Eleanor,” I said with shocked certainty. “It has to be about Eleanor.” My heart sped up. This had to be a mistake. Wasn’t everything straightened out during their investigation?

  Her eyes dropped to the letter. “I don’t know, maybe. I don’t understand. I’ll make a…”

  “Étoile…” Panic rose in my throat. My chest felt tight and constricted.

  “Don’t worry, Stella, I’ll call…”

  “No, Étoile… What’s happening to me?” My voice pitched upwards. As I looked down, smoke swirled around my legs, coiling upwards until I couldn’t see them anymore. Only my torso and arms remained visible. My fingers started to disappear into the mist and my body stiffened. I was either turning into a freaking genie or I was… “Étoile, I’m disappearing!”

  “The letter must have activated a spell…”

  The last image I had of Étoile was her mouth dropping open; then I blipped out of her apartment.

  FOUR

  Despite disappearing piece-by-piece in the frightening smog, I reappeared, entirely intact, all at the same time. Wiggling my toes inside my boots, then gently flexing my fingers, I was relieved to find that every part of my body was exactly where it should be. Blinking away my confusion, I focused on the scene in front of me. Mahogany wood panelling wrapped around each wall of a very dark room. Plush carpeting ran under my feet and the only furniture was a horseshoe-shaped table, around which several people sat. A large chandelier, the lights dimmed, hung from an ornately plastered ceiling and velvet curtains swept across one wall, the fabric meeting the carpet in a perfect line. I couldn’t make out a door, but I had to assume it was hidden in the panelling somewhere. I seemed to be standing on a circular platform of some sort and frozen in place. Try as I might, I could not move.

  “What’s going…?” I started to murmur in panic, but the woman sitting at the centre of the table held up a silencing finger and my words were cut off in my throat, leaving my mouth to open and close mutely, like a fish.

  After a long silence, she asked, “Estrella Mayweather?”

  This time I found my voice. “Yes, but I…”

  There went the finger again, held aloft and pointing towards the ceiling, as the red-haired woman glanced down at the documents spread in front of her. While she scanned them, I inspected the assembly. Eight people — five women, three men — who were looking back at me. A couple of them seemed vaguely familiar. I focused on one older man who tugged at my memory. He was dressed in a suit of dark burgundy with a pure white shirt and a tie that was so dark, it could have been black. I’d only met him once before, but he made a great impression on me. Steven Haller. If he were present, this had to be either the Council or the court that wanted to try me. Though I hadn’t seen him in more than a year, I often wondered about him. I tried to catch his eye, but he stared blankly back at me, his face a mask of impassivity.

  “Who are…?” I started.

  “We are the Council,” she interrupted without looking up.

  “Where is…?”

  This time the woman looked up and fixed me with an icy glare. “Do not speak unless spoken to,” she instructed.

  My shoulders dropped. I had so many questions, but the witches didn’t appear overly chatty to me and I had a horrible sense of foreboding. If this were the criminal court as written in the summons, then I could only imagine what they had in store. Étoile’s panicked face popped into my head and I squeezed my eyes shut at the discomforting thought. Étoile was coolly calm as a rule. If something worried her, then it was definitely something to worry about. My heart started to thump a little faster. Wedged on the circle, which was obviously spellbound to stop me running out the door — which I had yet to find in the panelling — I had no choice, but to wait. I only hoped someone would explain to me what was going on. Even better, maybe they would realise they made a horrible mistake. I clung to that idea, even as a little part of me feared it wouldn’t be so simple.

  After what seemed like hours, the woman removed her half-moon glasses, making a show of folding them and setting them on the table in front of her. She took a deep breath and assessed me. I held still under her gaze and returned her indifference with my own.

  “My name is Lisette Randolph and I head the judiciary, the criminal court of the Council,” she explained. “Estrella Mayweather, you have been indicted with crimes against witches. Do you understand this charge?”

  “No!”

  She glanced at her papers, then back to me. A small frown creased her forehead as she tucked a stray blonde hair behind her ear. “Were you present at the death of Eleanor Bartholomew?”

  The still air bristled around me as all eyes turned on me. “Yes,” I said, my voice slipping out as a whisper.

  “Speak loudly for the Council.”

  “Yes.”

  “We are given to understand her death was unnatural.”

  This time I didn’t speak, an uneasy feeling creeping through me. Eleanor Bartholomew’s demise was most certainly not natural. After she embarked on a murderous rampage in an effort to cover up her own crimes — including the deaths of my parents, my knowledge of which she was convinced would bring her down — it was the only way to stop her from killing us all. Her death came at my hands, although unwillingly. After some quiet conversation between the woman and the two flanking her, including Steven, she did not ask me to elaborate, much to my relief.

  “Estrella Mayweather, you are hereby indicted for the murder of Eleanor Bartholomew. Trial is scheduled to begin tomorrow.”

  I expected a gavel to crash against the table, sealing my fate, but instead, there was no noise, just ominous silence. After a moment, Lisette Randolph continued, “You and your counsel will need to present yourselves at court to hear the evidence against you and to present the evidence in your defence. You will be remanded into our custody until that time.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” said Steven, his smoothly authoritative voice causing another stir amongst the panel. “I will vouch for her. I volunteer to be her guardian.”

  Lisette turned to him. “This is most irregular.”

  “But perfectly legal, according to our laws. I am here for the indictment only. I am not a part of the judicial committee. There is no conflict of interest,” Steven replied.

  “But…”

  “There can be no objection,” he insisted.

  They stared at each other for a few long loments before Lisette turned to me. “Ms. Mayweather, do you have any objection to Mr. Haller vouching for you?”

  I hesitated; then, “I have no objection.” Just to hedge my bets, I added, “At this time.”

  “So be it. Mr. Haller, Ms. Mayweather shall remain under your guardianship. See to it that she does not miss court. I don’t need to remind you of the severity of the penalties. Council is adjourned.”

  At her words, the Council rose. In the far wall, a door swung open and the assembly filed out, leaving just Steven and me. He walked around the table and held his hand out to me. For a moment, I remained still, thinking that surely he knew I couldn’t move while inside the spelled circle? Just as the thought entered my head, I felt the magic drop and I lurched forwards, toppling from the dais. Righting myself, I took his hand. He held it for a moment, then turned, tucking my hand through the crook of his elbow, and folding his arm against his body. He patted my hand reassuringly, but made no move to leave the room. “I always hoped we would meet again, only under more pleasant circumstances, my dear.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Panic edged into my voice again. The whole thing was over so quickly, I barely had time to get my thoughts in order before the woman demanded my appearance in court. At that, I felt my shoulders sag. Court. A lawyer. A defence. Didn’t these things take time and money? Two things I rarely had except in limited quantities. But that would be the least of my worries if I were convicted.

  Steven raised his eyebrows. “It
wasn’t clear enough?”

  “Well, yes, but… I’m being charged with murder!” My voice sounded like a dry squeak.

  “Very unfortunate, indeed. Stella, we have a lot to discuss and we can’t talk here.” Steven inclined his head towards the door and set off for it, dragging me after him. “I believe there is someone waiting for you in the lobby.”

  “Where are we anyway?”

  “The Council’s headquarters. This is where the Summit takes place, as well as other things like… well like this.” Steven flapped a hand at the room as we exited it.

  Almost as soon as we entered the lobby, Étoile raced towards me, taking me in both her arms and enveloping me in a hug. She looked deathly pale as she assessed me. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  I looked up at Steven and gulped. “I’ve been charged with Eleanor’s murder,” I told her. “Apparently, we go to trial tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow!” Étoile’s voice rose into a screech. “Are you kidding me? We can’t prepare a defence in that time. Steven, what happened?”

  “Not here,” he breathed. Then a little louder, “If you’ll allow me, I’d be happy to oblige. I already offered Stella my assistance.”

  I thought happy was a really bad choice of words, but Étoile straightened up. “Would you, Steven?”

  “Certainly.” He looked around at the quiet lobby. Where everyone disappeared to, I couldn’t guess. The room was eerily empty and all the other doors closed. Even the corridors appeared vacant. “Let’s reconvene at your apartment. Leave quickly.”

  Étoile grabbed my hand. “We’ll take the magic cab,” she said. “See you there, Steven?” He nodded and stepped back, inclining his head in a small bow. And with that, I felt a small yank on my power, and once again, someone else magicked me to their chosen destination. Only this time, thankfully, it ran right along with where I wanted to go.

  ~

  Étoile paced her narrow living room while I sat shell-shocked, unable to do anything but stare at the wall and sip the hot tea she pressed into my hands. The time I spent in front of the court, or the Council, or whomever they were, seemed like hours; but in reality, my watch revealed that only fifteen minutes elapsed from the time they sucked me to them until the moment we reappeared in Étoile’s apartment. When a knock at the door sounded thirty minutes after we returned, we both jumped.