They were both dressed in the standard Wayfarer uniform: a black top and trousers that I had at first mistaken as a jumpsuit, with a silver breastplate worn on top. They wore truncheons at their waists, but I knew by now that these truncheons functioned as wands. There was wizard-tech involved in their making, so even non-magical members of the force could easily subdue criminals.
I probably don’t need to tell you that, despite the Wayfarers’ outfits, not a single human in Riddler’s Edge paid them any heed.
‘I don’t think we’ll be here all that long.’ Gretel nodded to the human pathologist, who was now covering over Sean’s body. ‘He thinks it’s a heart attack, and Shane agrees.’
Shane shrugged his broad shoulders. With his black hair and strong build, he reminded me far too much of Detective Quinn. ‘I’ll do an autopsy of my own as soon as I can manage it, but it’s most likely just a tragic accident. I was speaking to the other garda.’ He pointed to Sean’s colleague, a stout female garda called Noreen. ‘She says he’s had heart trouble for a while, and he’s on meds for his condition. There was a chicken theft a little while back that got him all stressed out, so his health problems seemed to be flaring back up.’
‘Ah.’ I nodded knowingly. ‘There was a chicken incident a short while ago. Not just one, but two. A cock went missing from one farm, and a hen from another. We had to cover it for the paper.’
‘We did,’ Greg agreed. He had arrived just after Gretel, and was busy taking photos of the scene. ‘And the missing hen was an egg-cellent layer by all accounts.’ He paused to nudge me. ‘Egg-cellent. Get it?’
Gretel suppressed a laugh, doing her best to look stern and official. ‘We all get it, Greg. So what was the outcome of the chicken incident? The farmer with the cock staged a theft so he could pretend his farm had been hit by the same fowl thief, but in reality he had stolen the hen?’
I shrugged. ‘That was the theory Sean and Noreen were running with, but they couldn’t prove it either way. After a while Detective Quinn said that unless any new evidence came to light, they were going to have to let it go.’
‘Ah, so that’ll be why Noreen says that it was eating away at Sean,’ said Gretel. ‘We all have a case like that. The one that got away, so to speak. Although in the Wayfarers’ case it tends to involve evil, all powerful supernaturals out to destroy the world. But I guess I can see how a case of missing chickens might get to you, too. Anyway … it all seems pretty straightforward, so let’s hope Shane can sneak in an autopsy fairly soon so we can be sure.’ She squeezed my shoulder and smiled. ‘But give me a call if anything else turns up in this crazy metropolis of yours. Maybe some sheep might go missing.’
She and Shane gave us a quick wave goodbye, and then they sidled down the alley between Norman’s Shop and the tractor showroom. Shane grasped Gretel’s arm, then she clicked her fingers and they both disappeared.
I leaned back against the wall, crossing my arms and watching as the various emergency services vehicles left the town. That was it. Drama of the day, over.
‘What’s with you?’ wondered Greg, packing his camera away. ‘You thinking there could be more to this? You see any signs of dark magic? Any mysterious green glows?’
I cast him an absentminded glance. ‘What? No. Nothing like that. I was just wondering – what with poor old Sean gone now, who’s going to be looking after the lighthouse?’
A wicked smile crossed his face. ‘You miss him don’t you? Aw, poor Ash doesn’t have the sexy detective to argue with anymore. How are you taking your frustrations out these days?’
‘Get your mind out of the gutter!’ I admonished with a laugh. ‘And I don’t miss him – to argue with or in any other way. Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m just being a concerned friend, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, sure,’ said Greg, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. ‘But I wouldn’t worry about it. You know what Dylan’s like – he’s got a back-up for Sean.’
I didn’t bother pretending to be surprised. If the neatness of Dylan’s home and office were anything to go by, then it made sense that he’d be super-organised when it came to arranging someone to water his plants. Of course he had a back-up. Heck, he probably had a whole list of back-ups.
A whole long list that didn’t include me.
3. Madam Montague
Greg and I rushed back to the Daily Riddler’s office, so we could prepare a short article for the paper’s next edition. We could do a more in-depth piece in the days to come – after all, Sean had served Riddler’s Edge for over thirty years, so he deserved the full-page treatment – but for now, we just needed the facts.
‘I’m not sure which photos from the accident scene to include,’ said Greg as I typed up a few brief paragraphs. ‘If any. I might just try and find a picture of Sean, instead.’
‘That would be best, I think.’
We both turned our heads to watch Grace, gliding gracefully down from her apartment above the main floor of the newspaper office. She wasn’t actually gliding (although seeing as she was a witch, she probably had that spell in her arsenal). But she was the only person I knew who could walk so gracefully in high heels that she made it look like gliding.
‘We have some nice ones of Sean on file from the garda station’s Christmas party last year,’ she went on. ‘I’ll add that in myself if you two want to get off to the fair. I know you were due to help Pru out, Aisling. And Greg, weren’t you and some of your fellow wizards doing some demonstration or other?’
Greg shrugged his shoulders. ‘Some of my mates invited me to be part of their broom display,’ he said. ‘But it’s not until midnight.’
‘Even so – I wouldn’t want to be the one to keep you two from enjoying the fun at the fair. It won’t take me a moment, honestly. I’ve got a couple of calls to make anyway, so I won’t be joining you all at the fair for a while.’
‘You’re coming to the fair?’ said Greg, his mouth agape.
Grace squared up her shoulders. ‘Of course I’m going to the fair. What? You don’t think I know how to have fun?’
Greg cleared his throat and grabbed my hand. As we both backed out of the office he said, ‘Of course you know how to have fun. In fact, I was just saying to Ash this morning how you’re the most fun boss I’ve ever had. And the most easy-going. Wasn’t I, Ash?’
Criminy. I happened to think that Grace was fun. Sometimes. When she wasn’t busy being scary as heck. ‘Um … yeah,’ I said. ‘You’re the coolest boss in the world, Grace. Can’t wait to see you at the fair so we can all have lots of fun together!’
≈
When Sean died in front of us, Pru had been shocked. But as a vampire, she’d probably seen quite a lot of shocking deaths in her time. And as she couldn’t afford to miss the fair she’d pulled herself together and gone off to work.
She insisted she’d be fine without me, but I’d been to a few busy fairs with her before. I knew how many people queued up to have her do a reading. Having someone to take the money and calm the waiting people down really helped things along.
I rushed as quickly as my silly sandals would let me, and found my way to her tent. It was a deep shade of purple, with silver decorations dangling off every available surface. There was a chalkboard out front saying: Madam Montague – Crystal Balls, Tarot Cards and Mind Reading – Whatever your Question, Madam Montague Knows the Answer.
‘Nice colour,’ said Greg, admiring the tent. Well, of course he liked it – it was nearly the same shade as his van. ‘Y’know, I might actually get a reading if there weren’t such long queues.’
‘I’m sure Pru would be happy to give you a reading any time,’ I said. ‘You two have been friends for years, haven’t you?’
Greg’s face went somewhat red. ‘Oh, good goddess, I didn’t mean I’d get a reading off Pru. Sheesh! Let’s just say that might be a bit embarrassing. I thought maybe the Fabulous Fee or the Great Gwendoline. Or perhaps Psychic Salvatore.’ He nodded his head towards some of the other ten
ts. Although they were busy, Pru’s line was the longest by far. He peered at the chalkboard. ‘Crystal ball, tarot cards, mind reading … huh? I thought she only read humans’ minds for profit. I didn’t know she did it with us lot, too.’
A woman in the middle of the queue shook her head. ‘Madam Montague read minds here last year, too. It’s really quite cathartic, having someone tell you what you’re thinking.’
‘Because you don’t know yourself?’ Greg looked genuinely puzzled.
‘Because,’ said the woman through clenched teeth, ‘a lot of people are in denial – even when it comes to their own thoughts and feelings. I want to know which of my five lovers I should choose. Pru always knows my mind better than I do. I’m hoping she’ll say I should continue seeing them all.’
There seemed to be a great struggle going on within Greg, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. We said a quick goodbye, and I went to sit at the little table which guarded the tent’s entrance, stepping back as I saw that there was already someone there.
Jared was sitting with his legs up and his arms behind his head, looking completely disinterested. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw me, but he didn’t say hello. Instead he turned his attention to a blonde woman at the front of the queue.
‘Y’know, if you want the talented Madam Montague to tell you if there’s any love in your future, I could save you a sickle or two.’ He licked his lips and shot her a wicked grin, standing up from his seat. ‘What I’m saying, beautiful lady, is that you might as well leave this queue and come out with me, because I have a whole lot of love to give.’
The blonde woman’s cheeks turned pink, but she walked towards Jared and linked her arm in his. Jared left the table and sauntered past me, an oh-so-innocent smile on his face. ‘Oh, Ash – I didn’t see you there,’ he said. He pointed to a large crate that was sitting next to the table. ‘That came for you. I didn’t open it.’
I moved close to him so that his impromptu date wouldn’t overhear. ‘Mess this woman about in some dumb effort to make me jealous, Jared, and you’ll have me to deal with.’
He met my eyes, pulling his arm from hers. ‘Well then at least I’d get to spend some time with you.’ He turned back to his date. ‘Listen, I’m sorry gorgeous. Something’s come up. You really should go in and see my sister, though, now that you’re here. No doubt she’ll tell you that you can do a lot better than me.’
She answered him with a filthy look and re-joined the queue.
Jared, gentleman that he was, already seemed to have forgotten she existed, and he kept his eyes on me. ‘You’re right, Ash. I was being a prat. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to see anyone but you. Will you meet me at Greg’s broom show later on? Go on.’ He tried for one of his cocky grins, but it was falling a little short. ‘You know you want to.’
I shook my head. ‘You’re not getting the message, Jared. Look, the crowd is getting rowdy. I’ve got to go help Pru out.’
He looked like he was about to argue, but then he shook his head and slunk away, hands in his pockets. I watched him go, unsure of how to feel. I’d never seen Jared so downhearted. In all the time he had chased me, I’d been so sure it was just the chase he was after.
I’d enjoyed my first date with him far more than I expected to. But the truth was, even if he did like me – actually like me and not the fact that I was playing hard to get – it wouldn’t have made a difference to my decision.
Jared had been a jerk for asking that girl out in front of me. But if I went out with him again just because I couldn’t be with Dylan, I’d be just as much of a jerk.
‘What’s the hold up?’ shouted a grey-haired woman near the front of the queue. ‘I’ve been here more than half an hour and the line’s barely moved.’ She rushed towards the tent flap.
Despite my sandals, I somehow managed to block her way. ‘Madam Montague is in the middle of a reading,’ I said. ‘You wouldn’t want her to rush your reading, would you?’
She only looked vaguely contrite as she moved back to her place in the line. I’d helped Pru out in the past, so I knew just how riled up the crowd could get. She was a popular fortune teller, and people grew impatient to see her, convinced that she really did have the answers to all of their problems.
I moved towards the crate and began to open it up.
‘Madame Montague isn’t just here to make a quick buck,’ I went on. ‘She takes ample time with each and every one of you. But while you wait, I have something extra special – on the house.’
As I unveiled the cauldron that had been in the crate, the complaining halted. It was filled with a sweet, heady golden liquid called A Short Burst of Happiness. I’d enjoyed the drink myself when I visited Warren Lane with Grace recently. The cauldron on the street that day had a small box in which customers could deposit the price of their drink, but this one was charging to Pru’s bank account. The cost of each drink was only a fraction of what she charged for a reading, and it was more than worth it to calm the crowd down.
Within minutes the queue of women and men were laughing and chatting together, buoyed up by their potion. Well, all except one man who didn’t partake.
I looked at him carefully. He was right at the end of the queue, and he had one of those faces that made it impossible to decide quite how old he was. He could have been a young fifty or an old thirty. He was a stout man, and his hair was long and dark, and held off his face with a bandana. When his turn finally came, he trotted into the tent with a look of determination. He left less than a minute later and headed over to the tent next door – the one belonging to the Great Gwendoline, Fortune Teller Extraordinaire.
As the crowds thinned out I took a sneaky drink myself, enjoying the lift it gave me. I was exhausted, and all I was doing was taking money and making sure things ran smoothly. I could only imagine how tired poor Pru must be feeling.
‘Hey Ash.’ She peered out of the tent at me. ‘Is that it, then?’
I nodded. There were dark rings beneath her eyes, and she looked irritated. ‘We probably have time to grab a bite before Greg’s broom show.’
She grinned. ‘Defo. Hey did you happen to notice the guy with the bandana?’ she asked as she walked out to join me.
‘I could hardly overlook him,’ I commented. ‘Bandana aside, he was the only one who didn’t want A Short Burst of Happiness.’
Pru wrinkled her nose and tossed back her long black hair. ‘He offered to treble my earnings for the remainder of the fair. But obviously, there was a catch.’ She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and passed it my way. ‘He wanted me to say these words to everyone.’
I glanced down at the writing:
Your luck is about to change. You’re coming to a crossroads, but when you see it you will know exactly where to go. If you grasp the opportunity before you, all of your wishes will come true.
I handed the note back to her. ‘That sounds like the sort of thing fortune tellers always say, anyway. Do you know who he was?’
‘Never seen him before in my life,’ she said, crumpling the note up and throwing it in a nearby bin. ‘And needless to say, I turned him down.’ Her expression grew serious. ‘There’s something you don’t know about me, Ash. I know I joke about what I do all the time. I pretend that I use my mind-reading skills to tell people what they want to hear. But the truth is I only read minds if someone asks me. I …’ She winced and looked away from me. ‘I actually am a seer.’
I looked curiously at her. ‘I don’t get why you’d want to keep it a secret from me. I mean, aren’t quite a few people in the supernatural world seers? They have a whole division in the Wayfarers made up of psychics, don’t they?’
Pru pulled at the sleeve of her blouse. ‘They do. But none of them are vampires. Some of my kind are highly psychic. But for years, when we told the future it was considered a dark art, whereas when a witch did the same it was considered amazing. Things might have changed over the last century, but … I’m a lot older than you. I was around when
things were worse. Sometimes … sometimes I have to remind myself that I don’t need to lie anymore. But that’s why I got so annoyed when Mister Bandana rocked up this evening. He made me feel like I was just doing some cheap party trick, y’know. Anyway.’ She linked her arm in mine. ‘You’ve been amazing. Especially since I know you’re probably dying to go off and investigate why poor Sean’s death was more than a simple heart attack.’
‘Hey.’ I pretended to be highly offended. ‘I’m not some conspiracy theorist, you know. Even I know that sometimes a heart attack is just a heart attack.’
Pru grinned. ‘Sure you do. Anyway, as a thank you, how about I buy you the most expensive meal this fairground has to offer?’ She gazed around at the stalls. ‘Which seems to be either the hot dogs or the chicken burgers. Oh dear. Okay hot dogs for dinner, candy floss for dessert, and a slap up meal in the Fruit of the Vein when the fair’s over. Deal?’
‘Forget the Fruit of the Vein,’ I said. ‘I’ve just downed A Short Burst of Happiness. Far as I’m concerned, hot dogs are a slap up meal.’
4. An Electric Performance
As it turned out, the hot dogs were spectacular, but they were nothing compared to the show. It didn’t even matter to me that Jared turned up to watch. I’d never seen anything like this in my whole life, and nothing could bring me down.
Greg and his friends rode a succession of wizard brooms through the sky, all dressed up in old-school wizard robes, with pointed hats and all, dancing and looping through the air, even managing some air writing (spelling out Wizards – our magic’s not innate, but it sure is great, naturally).
After the intro, they moved into a dramatic battle re-enactment. Pru informed me that the Battle of the Sage Wizard had been one of the many actual battles between wizards and witches, and had taken place about two hundred years earlier.
The lighting was amazing, with magical fireworks being set off at the perfect moments – a starburst when the Sage Wizard Sasha managed to channel power for the first time, and a frightening lightning strike when she was knocked off her broom by the woman playing the Wizard Finder General.
Lucky Witches Page 2
