Escape to Witch City

by E. Latimer

  They made their way around the fountain. On the other side, Emma could see a large building at the edge of the square—a sprawling white mansion with pillars along the front. The metal plaque said it was the parliament, although in the London she was used to, there were usually a few flags on display. Here, she saw instead a stone column with a glittering quartz crystal attached to the top.

  She tipped her head to one side, squinting up at the building. It was a museum back in Original London, she was fairly certain. Boring and full of dusty artifacts. “I recognize this, but…it’s a bit different.”

  There was something decidedly off about it.

  Something was going on under all the noise of the festival, she realized. A deep, slow pulsing had begun to fill her head, a pattern that sounded only remotely like a human heart. Emma paused, frowning, fixated on the steps leading up to the white building, listening to the Noise. What on earth made that kind of sound? It was much too deep for a human heart, too slow, and the rhythm wasn’t quite right. It didn’t feel like the monster back in Forest-London, either—the Witch of a Thousand Faces. That had had a sense of wrongness about it, but this…this just felt slightly alien.

  “Lenore, there you are! Thank God!”

  Emma started, turning to see a short, round man in a purple robe hurrying up to her aunt. His face was flushed, and he was very sweaty. “Allistar is at it again. Just look!”

  They all stared in the direction he was pointing, at a small, rickety-looking wooden stall wedged between a fruit stand and a booth full of silver jewelry. The stall held an assortment of glass jars and vials, all full of suspicious-looking liquids. Some of the liquids were merely an odd color—Emma spotted a snot-green one that made her stomach churn on sight—but others appeared to be actually moving in their jars. One even seemed to be boiling, emitting a loud and constant hissing from under its cork.

  “Allistar!” Lenore threw her hands up in irritation and then turned back to Emma and the others. “Sorry, one second. Have a look around the market and I’ll be right back.” She turned, raising her voice above the crowd. “Allistar Ripley, I know nobody gave you a permit for that stall…”

  Edgar, Eliza, and Maddie were looking around the market eagerly, but Emma was listening hard, trying to pick out another of the low, pulsing lines of sound she’d heard a moment before. It had faded once she’d been distracted, but if she could just find it again…

  It was faint at first. So faint she mistook it for the deep noise she’d heard before the interruption. But then it began to grow louder, and Emma stiffened.

  There. She could hear it now: the low, steady thump-thump, thump-thump.

  It was the same heartbeat she’d heard back in the hotel room. Back in the forest.

  The witch hunter.

  Tobias McCraw was here; she was sure of it.

  Maddie was standing next to her, and Emma whirled around and grabbed her arm.

  “Emma, what—”

  “I hear him.” Her voice was low, urgent. “McCraw, he’s here somewhere.”

  Maddie stood up straighter, but she only frowned at Emma. “Wha…I mean, so what? He’s here, isn’t he? In the city? It’s not so surprising that he’d come to the festival, same as us.”

  Emma scowled as she looked wildly around at the crowd. Maddie didn’t get it. It wasn’t that simple. He had to be up to something, because he was definitely following them.

  There. She spotted a tall figure across the square, his face partly obscured by a round-brimmed black hat. He was walking next to his mother, moving quickly through the crowd toward them.

  “Ow, Emma! You’re going to break my arm.”

  “It’s him, right there.”

  Edgar and Eliza were hovering behind them now, watching over Emma’s shoulder, and Edgar said hesitantly, “Uh, that’s not him, Em. That’s not even the same hat he wears.”

  Emma blinked, releasing her grip on Maddie’s arm. Maddie sighed with relief and rubbed at the red spot on her skin.

  As Emma stared, the man pushed up his hat, laughing at something his companion had said. She saw that he was a sallow-skinned, narrow-faced man, nothing like McCraw at all. And his companion was not McCraw’s mother, but a young man.

  Emma bit her lip, blushing furiously. Maybe Lenore was right. Maybe she was simply jumpy after the In-Between.

  “Sorry, I thought it was him for a moment. That hat…”

  Maddie shuddered. “I absolutely don’t blame you. It’s hideously similar, and he should be kicked out of the festival for his garish taste in headgear.”

  That actually made Emma smile, and she had just begun to relax when the pulsing sound came again. Not the witch hunter’s heart this time, but the impossibly low rhythm she’d heard earlier—the one she’d never heard before. This time, she was sure she wasn’t imagining it. This was real. This was something strange and new.

  And this time, she could tell exactly where it was coming from.

  Before she could really consider what she was doing, she was on the move, heading straight for the steps of the huge white building.

  Emma, what—where are you going?”

  Emma didn’t answer at first, didn’t even realize she was being asked the question until Maddie caught up with her, grabbing her sleeve so the crowd couldn’t separate them. “Emma?”

  “I’m…there’s the sound. The Noise.” She was still fixated on the steps, on the round pillars at the entrance of the building. This version of the Noise was so different. Lower and deeper, more compelling. It seemed to take over every thought in her head.

  Maddie seemed to understand what she was talking about, because she turned around and beckoned for Eliza and Edgar. A moment later, Emma found all three of them following her up the steps. She glanced back once, to see if Lenore or anyone else was watching, but there was so much going on in the square below that no one seemed to take notice. And besides, there were plenty of people on the stairs, laughing and talking or eating sugared cakes from paper napkins. Anyone paying attention would just think they were searching for the best vantage point to watch the performance on stage.

  “What does it mean?” Maddie asked. “What are you hearing?”

  Emma had no idea what it meant. She just knew she hadn’t heard this particular Noise before—and that there was a strange kind of pull to it. She had to know what it was.

  She said as much as they ascended the last of the many stairs and arrived at the top of a long stone platform. Before them waited a set of arched double doors inlaid with brass bands and scrolled designs. Directly in front of the doors were two very tall people in black jackets. Each had a large red crystal hung from a heavy chain around their neck, and their expressions were very serious as they stared at Emma, who suddenly found all the words she possessed had flown straight out her left ear and vanished into the ether. For a moment they all stood there staring at one another, and Emma thought about turning to flee down the stairs.

  It was Maddie who finally broke the silence. “Erm,” she said. “This is Emmaline Black, and Edgar Black. You know, Lenore’s family? We’re supposed to be getting a tour.”

  For one dismaying moment, Emma thought Maddie was trying to use her power on the guard. And then he bent down slightly, to make eye contact with Maddie, and cocked his head to one side.

  “Are you now?”

  Maddie only nodded. Her eyes were very wide, and she looked, Emma thought, like she was very much regretting her lie.

  Thankfully, the guard straightened up and grinned at his partner, a woman with a tight blond bun and a sun-weathered face. She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, and then backed up to press her shoulder against the door, leaning into the entrance to call out, “Newcomers coming in, Janie. Give them the tour, would you?”

  After a second of hesitation, they passed through the entrance. Emma flushed at the amused look both gu
ards were giving them, but she put it out of her head. She didn’t care what they thought; she just wanted to know what she was hearing.

  They passed through a short, sparsely decorated hallway, and through another pair of doors after that. The room beyond was massive. There was a door set in each wall, with red-cushioned benches beside each, and hanging ferns in silver pots brightened the corners. The floor was tiled in jade and black, and their footsteps echoed as they moved inside, the door thumping shut behind them. There was a balcony that ran around the inside perimeter of the space, and at the very back of the room was a platform with a set of four velvet-cushioned chairs.

  Not a Throne Room, Emma realized, as they stood in the center. Not exactly. But somehow she knew that this was a place where the witches came to decide things. Where they held discussions, and figured out what they were going to do together, instead of ordering people about from a great big dais towering above everyone else.

  She moved farther into the room. Hundreds of feet overhead, windows were set into a domed ceiling, and the hall was airy and bright in spite of the dark decor. All at once, the pulsing sound in the back of her head grew louder, until it was all she could hear. Somehow, it was drawing her toward a spot in the floor just ahead.

  Exactly in the center of a wide circle of chairs was an oddly shaped well, made of what looked like cloudy white crystal. It was roughly waist-high and it glittered in the sunlight streaming through the windows above. It wasn’t round exactly, since the walls ended at strange angles on each side, but set into a shelf that ran around the outside was a series of stone cat statues with glittering green gems for eyes. And it was definitely, strangely, the source of the Noise pounding in Emma’s head.

  What was a well doing in the middle of the parliament building, and why was it emitting the Noise?

  Emma stepped closer and noticed for the first time the guard leaning up against the wall beside the platform with the velvet chairs. Unlike the guards outside the building, this one was dressed in charcoal gray, though she had the same heavy chain and red crystal hanging from her neck. She was whip-thin but muscular, and her slate-colored hair was woven into a thick braid that trailed down her back.

  The others jumped as they noticed her, and the woman’s thin face brightened.

  “I thought I heard Pat hollering up there. New witches, are you? Come on in.”

  This, Emma realized, must be the Janie the guard outside had shouted at. Her heart was hammering in her chest, though she wasn’t sure if it was due to Janie’s sudden appearance or the fact that the Noise was still so loud in her ears. The others trailed behind her, staring at the guard, who smiled widely back at them.

  As she got closer to the well the Noise increased. This time, though, she noticed a strange undercurrent to it, one she hadn’t heard before. Under the steady thud, thud was a gentle hum.

  “What…what is this?”

  The Noise seemed to grow louder with each step, until at last she was at the edge of the well, her chest tight as she peered down into it. The pulse was like thunder now, shaking her bones. The hum was there too, though it was lower.

  “The heart of the city.” Janie’s eyes glittered. “Have a look, but don’t get too close.”

  Cautiously, Emma stared down into the well. Blue light flickered in the depths, pulsing and crackling, and sparks ran through the surface. It reminded Emma of the strange fire she’d seen in the Find-Me-Here, but there was far more of it, and it appeared to be in some sort of liquid form.

  “But…I can hear it. I don’t understand.”

  “It’s magic.”

  All four of them jumped as Lenore’s voice echoed behind them. Janie cackled. “Good afternoon, Lenore. Come to collect your niece and nephew?”

  “Yes, thank you, Janie.” Lenore looked quietly amused as she looked around at all of them. “I was told you might be here.”

  Emma ducked her head, face burning. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I-I heard it from out in the square.”

  Thankfully, Lenore looked more intrigued than angry. “Very interesting.” She swept closer, skirts whispering over the marble floor, and placed a hand on the smooth stone wall of the well, leaning over to peer down into the fire. “I’d thought your magic was merely sensing the heart—the life of a person, so to speak. But I may have been wrong.”

  “What do you mean?” Emma took a step back from the well, still feeling a little guilty. She was almost sure she wasn’t supposed to be in here—and certainly they weren’t supposed to have wandered away by themselves.

  “This is magic: pure, raw, and unfiltered. In its original form.” Lenore gestured at the fire. “You appear to have the ability to sense it. I’m not sure what that might mean. You could have incredible power, Emma.” She tilted her head to one side, eyes shining. “Tell me, do you hear almost everyone’s heartbeat, or just those with stronger powers?”

  Emma bit her lip, thinking hard. She heard her friends’ hearts all the time, and occasionally unspecified hearts, people she couldn’t pin down. “Well, I don’t hear it all the time, if that’s what you’re asking. I hear my friends’ a lot though.” She darted a look over at the others. “Which was alarming at first.”

  “Probably over a certain percent,” Lenore mused. “Fascinating.”

  Eliza’s brow was furrowed as she stared at the well. “I thought magic was inside us.”

  “It is.” Lenore straightened up, patting her chest. “In your heart, to be exact, which is probably what Emma is sensing. But magic also exists in nature. We’ve used a good amount of it to create the city core, which is how Witch City stays hidden.”

  Lenore grasped the chain around her neck, touching one of the crystals at her throat. “Mostly we work with charmed crystals. They’re a stable conduit for small amounts of magic, which we can set with intentions to get specific results.”

  Emma frowned at her, and Lenore laughed.

  “I’m sorry. Let’s try that again. The crystals are magic. They let us do almost anything—like fly. But for something like keeping the city running, keeping us hidden, we need a far bigger amount.” She gestured at the well. “Like that.”

  Magic. Magic that was keeping this entire city hidden.

  Emma stared down into the well, a little awestruck. All along, she’d been hearing magic, the pulse of power in others’ hearts. It made a strange kind of sense. That was why everyone’s rhythm sounded a little different. Everyone’s magic was different.

  It felt like the puzzle pieces were finally fitting together.

  “The statues.” She gestured at the stone cats circling the edge of the well. “Are they magic too?”

  “They are. They’re imbibed with strong enchantments, a kind of key to allow us to pass freely in and out of the In-Between without getting lost. Much like the Find-Me-Here, but more powerful, since the In-Between is particularly challenging.” She paused. “But there is too much to learn about magic and the heart of the city all in one day. I promise I’ll tell you all there is to know…eventually. I’ll even take you to the library. The full history of Witch City is there.”

  Edgar perked up, brows raised. “You have a library here?”

  Lenore laughed. “Of course. And you’re more than welcome to check out whatever you’d like. We have poets you’ve probably never heard of—poets that had to flee persecution for witchcraft. There are a surprising number of them.”

  Edgar looked shocked and delighted by this revelation, and Emma felt excitement spark in her chest. The Witch City library. Books without missing pages. The true and real history of the war. Of the royal family. It was certainly a place they’d have to visit.

  Lenore turned on her heel, nodding at the guard. “Good afternoon, Janie. Thank you for making sure my niece and nephew didn’t blow themselves to smithereens.”

  Edgar stumbled and nearly fell over. “Smithereens?”

/>   “Yes. You see, as all of us learn in school, the way witchcraft works is that you attach your own natural magic to the magic in a vessel, say…a crystal.”

  Lenore was making her way toward the front door as she spoke, and they all hurried to follow her. “And that vessel allows you to access magic, and activate a spell. If you access too much magic in a vessel—say, a well of magic—you get an overload.” She smiled brightly down at Emma, who swallowed hard. “It’s like a wineskin. It only holds a certain amount of wine, and when you overfill it…it explodes. Sometimes, if it’s greatly overfilled, it will take out some of the surroundings as well. So if any of you had reached into the well…”

  “Smithereens,” Emma said weakly. The thought made her feel a little ill. It was a good thing Janie had been there to keep an eye on them.

  “Yes, smithereens,” Lenore agreed. She walked back through the front doors of the building and down the steps, smiling at the guards as she went past.

  Lenore walked them across the square again, weaving through the crowds and activity. They paused briefly to watch a fire-breathing witch entertaining a crowd of awestruck children, and on the walk back to the inn, Edgar insisted on stopping in front of the library. It was only a street away from where they were staying, and though none of the others were nearly as excited about the library as Edgar was, Emma still found the place quite enchanting. It was a tiny, thatched-roof cottage with rust-red bricks, and a hanging Library sign done in scrolling gold writing.

  They then returned to the Push Broom Inn, and Lenore led them up to their room on the second floor.

  “Alright, I’ve got to get some of the other newcomers settled in, so you lot might as well sit and have some tea. I’ve had Gerty send it up to your rooms already, and you can have a lie down if you like.” She smiled at Edgar. “I dare say you’ll need one by now. Then I’ll come get you later this afternoon and we’ll head over to the Candlewick School for Magic for a tour.”

  Emma’s mouth fell open, and Maddie piped up from beside her, “There’s a school for witches? Does that mean we’ll learn magic? And how to fly?”