Escape to Witch City

by E. Latimer

  “Emma, I’m so glad you’re here!”

  “You made it! Isn’t it lovely, isn’t it perfect?”

  Emma shrieked, and then laughed, realizing the tangle of limbs, lace, and petticoats that had tackled her was Eliza and Maddie. Both of the girls were beaming. Their faces were flushed and freshly scrubbed, and they each had on a new dress—a brown-and-pink one for Maddie, and a green one with brass buttons for Eliza.

  They both seemed equally relieved to see her. Maddie’s freckled face was flushed very red, and Eliza grinned when Emma kept hold of her sleeve for a few seconds after she’d released her from the crushing hug. She was a little nervous they might disappear all over again.

  They were here and safe. They’d made it. Her knees felt weak from the sheer relief.

  “Can you believe this place, Em?” Eliza beamed around at the city, and Maddie chimed in, nearly bursting with excitement: “Isn’t it wicked? Lenore says we can learn how to fly!”

  Some of Emma’s relief faded as she looked them over. “Wait, where’s Edgar? Didn’t he make it?”

  “He’ll make it. He’s just a little behind.”

  It was Lenore. She’d come up beside them, and she touched Emma’s arm gently. “He should be along soon. The In-Between tests everyone differently, and some take longer than others to come through.”

  “This way.” She beckoned for them to follow her. “We’ll get you something to eat, and when Edgar gets here, I’ll show you to your rooms. It’s the Ostara festival tonight, so I must warn you there’ll be lots of activity in the market.”

  Ostara. The celebration of spring. Emma looked around, noticing planter boxes along some of the windows, green shoots just beginning to bloom. She’d been right to suspect it, but it was still a lot to take in, this confirmation that she’d passed through three seasons in a day.

  She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, and felt Maddie loop an arm through hers.

  It was all overwhelming, but as they followed Lenore down the cobblestone street, Emma couldn’t help relaxing a little. She had the same, strange sensation of rightness as when she’d first decided to follow the cat. Her aunt…the cat was her aunt the entire time. It was still a bit hard to wrap her mind around.

  And Lenore knew how to shapeshift. Did all witches know how? Could Emma learn someday? And flying! Maddie had said they would learn how to fly. Her thoughts were racing at such a great speed that she almost felt dizzy.

  Witch City may have looked a lot like London, but the atmosphere was entirely different. As in Forest-London, the air was cool and fresh here. There was no fog, either; she could see every building perfectly. The major difference was that this city was full of noise: people chatting, both on the ground and above them as they sped past or glided leisurely by.

  At first, Emma spent a good deal of time gawping at the witches zipping back and forth above their heads. It was as if they had simply shed the restrictions of gravity and floated upward, arms still full of shopping, pushing prams containing small children, moving from one store window to the next to look at dresses. Men in top hats loudly discussed the fluctuating markets while drifting comfortably along together, and a baker woman in a white apron floated in front of the top floor of her shop, offering sweet rolls to the children who zoomed up to her.

  Everyone was floating along as if it were the most natural thing on earth.

  Eliza and Maddie seemed amused at the look on her face, and thankfully Lenore let her have a few minutes to get used to things. Had she not, Emma probably would have spent the entire time walking into lamp posts and walls as she craned her neck to look up. Surprisingly, there was also a great deal of foot traffic on the road, and a few horses here and there, pulling carts of milk or fruit.

  The peaks and rooftops of the buildings were lit by silver lanterns, some hanging from doorways and shopfronts, others glittering from lines that passed from one rooftop to the next. Emma noticed sparkling clouds of fireflies darting between the floating witches, casting flickering yellow light over the tops of the roofs.

  Even with the glitter of lights all around her, she was aware of exactly how exhausted she was. Her body felt sore all over, her eyes gritty. But she had no desire to sleep. This was all too exciting.

  They moved past a little green-and-brown shop with a hanging sign that read Tuttle & Williams. Pawnbrokers. Charm Loans. Crystal for Goods of Value. Around the corner from that was a tall, Tudor-style building. Its sign read The Cat’s Meow Public House & Inn and was illustrated with the silhouette of a black cat arching its back. The front doors were propped open, and rollicking fiddle music spilled out into the streets.

  As they rounded a corner, Emma found herself suddenly in the center of a group of young men and women who were staggering arm in arm down the crooked cobblestone street. They were very loud, laughing and talking to one another. One of the boys in front had a glass in one hand, which slopped amber-colored liquid onto his shirt sleeve as he gestured at something, laughing. The strangest thing, though, was the tiny cat strutting in front of them, weaving its way between the crowd and occasionally pausing to glance back if the young men and women lagged too far behind.

  “Jeremy!” Lenore’s voice was sharp as she pulled Emma out of the way and, in the same move, snatched the glass out of the young man’s hand with a stern glower. “I know it’s festival time, but honestly.”

  “Sorry, Ms. Black.” The young man gave her a shame-faced look, and the girl he was with giggled behind her hand.

  “Straight home.” Lenore gestured down at the tabby, who gave a loud merp of agreement and continued forward. The boy and his friends ducked their heads and hurried past Lenore, following the little cat down the street.

  “What was that?” Eliza had caught up with them, with Maddie just behind her. “We saw more cats earlier. Are they witches too?”

  Lenore smiled, shaking her head. “Ah, no. Those are familiars. We use them as a kind of…guide, if you will. The city does tend to move about quite a bit.”

  “Here too?” Emma looked up at the buildings around her, feeling suddenly nervous. She didn’t miss the great grinding and shaking of the In-Between London, and she didn’t fancy more of the same.

  “Yes. But it’s quite a bit different here. Just a moment.” Lenore pulled up short, and then motioned to something behind them. “See what I mean?”

  Emma turned. The shop they’d just passed, Dill & Tuttle, had been a one-story brown building, with green trim at the windows. In its place was now a two-story cream-colored building with a red-and-white striped awning and a collection of chairs and tables out front: Charlie’s Chocolaterie—Hot chocolate 2-for-1, today only! Emma blinked. There’d been no earthquake, no great grinding and shaking. She hadn’t even heard it happen.

  “Much better than before,” Emma said, relieved. “But why all the moving?”

  Lenore smiled at them and then continued to walk, still speaking, and they stumbled after her. “New Londinium was created for witches, by witches. And witches have always been hunted.”

  “It’s on purpose, then?” Emma darted a look around the street. “It moves to stay hidden?”

  Lenore nodded, her expression slightly smug. “Exactly, Emma. That’s why Her Majesty is having such trouble finding it. Witch City is never in the same place twice.”

  At the mention of the queen, Emma felt her excitement fizzle out a little. She cleared her throat, not sure how to ask the question that was on her mind. “Back in our London, the witch hunters were…well, they were hunting you. They had a poster with your face on it.”

  “Yes, they are determined, even after all these years.”

  They were passing a little blue shop with a giant golden telescope painted onto the window—Mr. Galaxy’s Shoppe & Observatory, according to the sign. A selection of delicate-looking silver instruments seemed to be whirring and vibrating away, all by t
hemselves. As Emma watched, a blue-and-gold planet rotated into view, followed by a spinning display of twelve little moons circling around it.

  “My sisters never gave up the hunt. They have too much malice in their hearts to let me go.” Lenore pressed her hand to the glass, tracing the golden etchings in the window. Her eyes were distant, her brows creased. She appeared to be remembering something painful, and Emma felt a bit guilty. Still, she had a right to know about her family, didn’t she?

  “What happened?” she asked. “Why did they lie and say you were dead?”

  Lenore drew back from the glass, glancing down at Emma, a strained smile on her face. “I promise I’ll tell you everything soon, Emma. But it will be a long process, and today we will just concentrate on reuniting you with your friends and getting you settled.”

  Emma wanted to protest. She wanted to know more. But Lenore was already turning away, clearing her throat.

  She gestured up at the city walls in the distance, and said, in a louder voice, “As well as changing locations, the city shifts internally, too—as you’ve seen. The only way to navigate is with magic. Unless you have witch blood, you will wander these ever-changing streets completely lost.”

  Emma could tell her aunt was changing the subject. “That’s really clever.”

  “Isn’t it brilliant?” Maddie’s eyes shone. “Even if someone did manage to find it and made it in, they’d just end up going in circles.”

  Emma glanced over at a young couple passing by, holding hands and whispering to one another. They were following a tawny-furred little cat whose bell jingled merrily as it trotted ahead of them. “How do the cats…?”

  “Familiars sense magic, which is woven through the fabric of the city.” Lenore moved on, passing another cluster of shops lit by silver lanterns. “For the most part, they can get you anywhere you want go.” She grinned. “Though they do tend to get distracted by mice.”

  As Lenore led them down the next street, a whoop of excitement came from overhead, and Emma looked up to see a pair of little boys zipping after one another. Just behind them came their mother, curly hair flying out around her as she leaned forward, sleeves flapping furiously in the wind. She reached out and snatched at the younger one’s coat. “Slow down! No horseplay above the streets, you two!”

  Emma watched with interest as they zoomed back and forth overhead; she made herself quite dizzy trying to keep track.

  “It’s a surprisingly simple spell.” Lenore tapped one of the crystals in her necklace, clearly amused at the look of awe on Emma’s face. “This way, ladies.”

  Emma looked back down at the street, feeling a little unsteady on her feet. It would be very easy to just wander around forever, craning her neck, staring up at the witches speeding by, at the blue orbs and the tops of the buildings. But now that she’d effectively come back down to earth, she could see they were making their way down the middle of what looked like Oxford Street.

  They were heading for a tiny thatch-roofed inn at the corner of the crossroads. The double doors at the front were rounded with ornate brass handles, and a sign over the entrance read The Push Broom Teahouse & Inn. On the sign was the silhouette of a witch in black robes and a pointed hat riding a stout-handled push broom, a cup of tea in one hand.

  “Brooms are terribly out of fashion. Nobody rides them anymore, but Gerty refuses to rename it,” Lenore said fondly. “She’s a traditionalist, through and through.” She pushed the doors open, and they swung inward with a faint squeak.

  Emma and the others trailed in after her. Just inside the door was a large throw rug, and a rack hung with cloaks and coats. Several wicker brooms leaned against the wall under the hooks. As Lenore showed them in to the next room, Emma was struck by the scent of flowers. The low wooden beams of the roof were woven with cheerful yellow ribbon and clusters of dried lavender, and moonlight streamed in through the oval-shaped windows.

  Lenore led them up a set of creaky wooden stairs to the second floor, a wide hallway with doors all down either side. There were gold number plaques on each one, and Lenore handed them the key marked #1.

  “There are bunk beds. You’ll have to fight it out for who gets the top.” She grinned. “I’ll come get you tomorrow for breakfast, and I promise to answer the hundred and one questions you will inevitably have. But right now, I think it’s best you get some sleep. Gerty’s brought up a plate of bread and cheese, if you need something before bed.”

  Emma glanced at the number on the door. She hesitated, even as she felt a rush of longing at the thought of the bed behind it. She was ready to sleep on the floor, at this point. “But Edgar…?”

  “I’m going to get him now.” Lenore smiled down at her. “I’ll make sure he passes through alright. And don’t worry—it’s been mere seconds in the In-Between since you got here.” When Emma blinked at her, startled, Lenore smiled. “Time works very differently there. A single night here will be no more than an hour there. You need not worry about him wandering for long.”

  Make that one hundred and two questions.

  Emma just shook her head, at a loss for words.

  “Go on in,” Lenore said. “These two will show you where the water closet is. Goodnight, girls.”

  She patted Emma on the shoulder and then swept away before Emma could ask anything else of her.

  “Come on.” Maddie was already elbowing the door open. The room beyond was done in dark wood with green accents. There was an ornate, moss-colored rug spread over the floorboards, a cushiony green armchair by a fireplace, and two sets of wide bunk beds tucked away into the corners. There was even a low bookshelf just under the window, filled with colorful volumes. It was beautiful, but all Emma could see was the nearest bunk. The velvety-looking quilt on top of the squishy pillow. Everything seemed to hit her all at once, and the sheer exhaustion made her sway on her feet.

  “Bed,” Eliza said firmly, perhaps noticing that Emma was about to topple over. “Come on, there are nightshirts in the drawer and then it’s straight to sleep.” She gave Maddie a pointed look. “No talking until morning. She needs to rest.”

  Maddie and Eliza showed her the night clothes, and then the water closet, where Emma splashed her face with cold water from a crystal wash basin. She practically inhaled a slice of bread and a large chunk of the cheese from the platter that Gerty had laid out on the dresser, and then she fell into bed, scarcely able to believe how comfortable the mattress was, how luxurious the velvety green blankets felt on her bare arms and legs.

  She had worried earlier that it would be hard to sleep. She was too excited, and there were so many questions to ask Lenore. There were too many things to learn about Witch City, and besides, she was still a bit nervous about Edgar, even if Lenore was with him right now. And yet, the moment her face touched the pillow her eyes drifted shut, and even with the soft whispers and shuffling of Eliza and Maddie getting ready for bed, and the gentle glow of the candle burning on the dresser, she was asleep within seconds.

  In the morning it was not Lenore who came to fetch them for breakfast but the crooked-hatted Gerty. She led them to the dining room downstairs before rushing away to the kitchen.

  The dining room was filled with long wooden tables and benches, and there were witches packed in at every seat, laughing and talking. At the back of the room there was a long bar with a low glass partition, and hanging signs over the top said things like Earl Grey Cream and Jasmine Black Tea and Aunt Margery’s Cherished Memories Potion.

  It was still dim outside. The sun was just rising, and lights flickered in hurricane lamps along the length of the tabletops, surrounded by squat clay teapots and mugs of steaming tea. Emma watched an older witch lean down and let the steam from her mug bathe her face, eyes shut as she inhaled deeply. When she opened her eyes, her gaze was distant, her pupils a deep yellow.

  Maddie looked delighted to be able to explain. “Memory potion. Lenore
says the teahouse serves magical brews. Herbal mixtures to make you relive your best memories, or to relax you.” She waved a hand toward the bar at the back. “She said no one does potions anymore because it’s too much work.”

  “Come on.” Eliza moved farther into the room, and Emma trailed after her. “Our table is this way.”

  Emma stared closely at the teapots on each table as they walked past, wondering which contained a memory potion and which was filled with plain old Earl Grey. The shop smelled like a tantalizing mixture of mulled wine, cider, and bergamot, and her mouth had begun to water.

  Eliza led them to a set of tables at the very back of the room that had been pushed together to create one long dining table with benches down both sides. A number of people were already seated, each with a plate piled high with food. At first, all Emma could see was the feast set out before them: heaping baskets of fresh-baked bread, pots of strawberry jam, and trays of scrambled eggs. Her mouth instantly began to water, and then Maddie gasped and seized her arm, pulling her up short.

  The witch hunter was sitting in the center of the bench.

  Tobias McCraw had a plate stacked high with toast and eggs, but he didn’t appear to have touched any of it. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Emma. When he started to get up from the table she jumped back, one shaking hand held up, as if to ward him off somehow.

  “I knew you followed us here! I could hear you.”

  McCraw tilted his head to one side and frowned. “Actually, Ms. Black, I got here before you did.”

  Emma opened her mouth and then shut it again, at a loss. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. Beside her, neither Maddie nor Eliza said anything, but they looked just as alarmed as she was, and Maddie still had a death grip on Emma’s arm.

  She wasn’t going to let him hurt her friends.

  She was opening her mouth to say as much when he spoke. “I’m very sorry I misled you, ladies. But it was necessary, as I wasn’t sure if Her Majesty might be listening, even in the In-Between.”