Magic Unbound

by T J Green

  “You’re powerful, more than you know. Look what you did the other night. You were flying the night Gil was killed! You actually flew across that room.” He glanced at her again, his eyes dark and intense. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about that.”

  “Actually, I haven’t.” She meant it, too. Gil’s death had eclipsed everything. “It all happened in such a rush with this outpouring of fury, and then Gil died, and well…”She shrugged. “I sort of forgot.”

  “Can you remember what caused it?”

  Avery hesitated for a second as she thought back to that moment when she emerged from the passageway behind Reuben. “Pure, blind anger, and the need to stop Faversham and that rock beast from attacking you and El. I literally pulled out everything I could, really focused my power. I needed to act fast, and I knew it.” She shuffled in her seat. “What about you and El? You were both channelling some strong power.”

  “It’s ironic, isn’t it? Faversham’s clearly scared of us finding the books and using them, and yet the fact that he’s attacking us is making us draw on reserves of power we never even knew we had.”

  “He accused us of wasting our power. He’s probably right.”

  “Not anymore, we’re not.”

  “Have you had any more visions?”

  “Every night.”

  Avery looked at him in shock. “Really? What do they show you?”

  “Versions of the same thing—black eyes, fires, heat, death. I thought they’d go after Gil died, but they haven’t. Are you still reading the cards?”

  “Every day. They change, of course, but the threat’s still there. There’s more than just Faversham, isn’t there?”

  “I think so,” he said sadly.

  For a while they made idle chat, until they entered the outskirts of Truro. By now it was after midnight and the roads were mostly empty. Alex cruised through the town, crossed the Truro River, and headed for the Royal Cornwall Museum. It was in the centre of town, and the surrounding streets still had a few people exiting pubs and clubs. Alex stuck to the back streets towards The Leats and turned up a side street to park on a residential road.

  “I presume they have a back door?” Avery said, her heart now beating uncomfortably fast.

  “Of course. Time to use a little magic.”

  They had already agreed on the spell they would use, and with a short incantation they were both shrouded in shadows, the spell also ensuring that if anyone saw them, their gaze would slide away.

  Avery followed Alex as his tall figure slipped through the streets to the back of the building where an inconspicuous door sat in the wall.

  The museum was huge, stretching from River Street where the main entrance was, to The Leats at the back. It was constructed in the 19th century out of large blocks of grey stone, and was solid and imposing.

  “Where’s the library?” Avery asked, glancing down the street. It was deserted.

  “You can only access it from in the museum,” Alex whispered.

  A security camera was mounted above them. While Alex worked on the lock, Avery used magic to manipulate the angle slightly up and across their heads, pointing away from the door. With a click, the door opened, and they slipped inside.

  They were in a narrow passage that led into the centre of the building. Immediately to their left was a panel on the wall that housed the security system controls, and the lights blinked, starting to flash red. Alex held his hand over them and within seconds they turned green again. The pair stood still for a few moments, letting their eyes adjust to the dark, but the building was silent. Another security camera sat above them on the wall, and with a whisper Avery disabled it, the red light blinking off.

  Alex conjured a witch light and led the way quickly down the passage. They passed offices and storerooms until they reached large wooden double doors, and pushing through them found themselves in the grand central hall. Avery gasped in pleasure. It rose to a high ceiling, the height of the building, and the centre of the hall was filled with glass displays of various objects. Avery took a quick look at the closest one and found that it displayed pots and ceramics that had been found in archaeological digs in Cornwall. In the centre of the room was an old carriage with huge, red wheels.

  At the rear of the hall was a sweeping set of stairs that led up to the first floor. Above them, running around the room at the level of the first floor was a mezzanine, edged with a white balustrade, behind which were more display cabinets.

  “This place is bigger than I thought,” Avery whispered to Alex.

  “This is all on their website. The front entrance is through there,” he said, pointing to the far side. “I’ll grab a guide.”

  For a few minutes Avery stood alone, hearing Alex’s footsteps fading away, and she listened nervously for anything else, but he was quickly back, and he led the way up the stairs and through the galleries on the first floor. Avery paused for a few seconds when they passed the De Pass Gallery, the displays of ancient Egyptian artefacts catching her eye. Alex was quickly at her side, grabbing her hand. “I’ll bring you back in the daytime if you want to sightsee,” he said impatiently.

  They kept going until they reached the far end of the first floor, and within minutes were in front of the double doors of the Courtney Library, its name in brass on the wall above.

  The door was locked, but again they enchanted the lock open, and passed through to find a plush-carpeted section with a small reception area, and a few computer terminals behind a desk. The library stretched away ahead of them, the shelves high and densely packed with books. The smell of age-old paper was thick in the air, and Avery breathed deeply, enjoying its comforting and familiar scent.

  Alex shut the door behind them and locked it again. “We need to find the archives. You head that way, and I’ll try this one,” he said, pointing to the right for Avery.

  She nodded and passed down the stacks, seeing small rooms leading off the main one with different collections housed within. At the end of the main room was a smaller than usual black door, and she opened it to find a narrow set of stairs leading upward.

  She turned and called in a low voice, “Alex!”

  He appeared out of the darkness, his skin pale under the strange, luminous white of the witch light. “Found it?”

  “Maybe. Did you find anything?”

  “Books, books, and more books.”

  Avery nodded and led the way up the steep and narrow stairs. The decoration was minimal here, and the carpet was thin and worn. They reached a small landing, and after turning saw a warren of rooms with low ceilings stretching ahead of them. These must have been the old servants’ quarters or attics—she wasn’t sure if it had ever been a private house.

  “Bollocks,” Alex said. “This is a maze.”

  Avery’s heart sank. “Do you think this is it? Because we’re going to waste a lot of time if not.”

  Alex pointed to a sign on the wall that read, Archives. You must be accompanied by a librarian at all times.

  “Great, let’s make this quick.”

  Fortunately, the rooms were clearly signposted, their contents described in decades, subjects, or centuries.

  They passed the first few, quickly dismissing them, and then came to a room on their right, labelled Sixteenth Century Manuscripts. Metal shelving filled with box files ran down the centre of the space.

  They exchanged a quick glance of relief and headed inside, moving to either side of the central stack to search more efficiently. Every now and again Avery pulled a box out to scan its contents, and although she found lots of intriguing papers and treatises on agriculture and the local area, there was nothing about the witch trials. She stood back, frustrated, and looked up and around. A wave of tiredness and despair swept over her. What was she doing? She was a respectable witch. She didn’t break into buildings and raid other people’s property.

  “I can hear you huffing from here,” Alex called softly from the other side.

  “Sorry.
I’m having a crisis of faith.”

  “Don’t. I’m not feeling great about this, either. But I think I’ve found something.”

  Avery found Alex on his knees rummaging through a box, its contents strewn around him. Avery dropped down next to him, searching through loose sheets of paper and a few bound books.

  Alex pointed to another box above them. “I think that one’s worth looking at, too.”

  Avery pulled it free and placed it on the floor, sifting through its contents, both of them working together, side by side. A small bound book sat in the file, and as Avery touched it, she knew. “This is it.”

  “It is?” Alex said, looking over. “You haven’t even opened it!”

  “I can tell.” She opened the book excitedly, and inside, inscribed in ornate and flowery writing, was the title: The Trials of the White Haven Witches.

  She looked at Alex in shock, her heart pounding once more. She gently turned the first few pages, and there, in the long list of the accused, she saw the name, Helena Marchmont. The emotion of the moment overcame her, and a few tears sprang to her eyes. She quickly tried to blink them back before Alex saw them. She was such a sentimental fool. But Alex had also fallen silent, and she looked around, wondering why he hadn’t commented.

  He was holding a very old leather book with the sign of earth on it, an upside-down triangle with a line through the bottom third—another grimoire. He raised his eyes to hers.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Avery said, barely able to breathe.

  “It’s Briar’s,” he said, his eyes wide.

  “Shit. We have to get out of here, and we need to take everything with us. How can that be here?”

  “Is this a trap?”

  “It can’t possibly be. If Faversham knew it was here, he’d have taken it by now.”

  Alex opened the first few pages and swore again. “Look at the pages, Ave!”

  She leaned over and saw faint white runes marked on some of the pages, only made visible by the witch light floating above them.

  “Have you ever looked at your grimoire under witch light?” Avery asked.

  “No. Bollocks! I feel like an idiot. Messages have been hidden under our noses the entire time!”

  Alex pulled his backpack out and placed the grimoire carefully inside, then bundled some of the other papers into a cardboard file he’d bought just in case.

  “Is there anything about the Favershams in those papers?” Avery asked.

  He shook his head, “I’m not sure. Let’s take everything.”

  Avery took another quick look at the book containing the trial transcripts, and saw it contained testimonies from the town members. A quick glance through the file showed a few other articles relevant to the witch trials. She hated doing this, but she copied Alex, loading everything into her own backpack.

  A sudden bang from below made them fall silent.

  “Was that a door?”

  “Quickly, put the boxes back,” Alex said, setting his own box back on the shelf, now empty.

  They heard footsteps downstairs, and two voices calling to each other.

  “Did we leave anything open down there?” Avery asked, desperately trying to remember their actions.

  Alex shook his head. “No. I locked everything behind us. I doubt they’ll even come up here. Maybe they’ve clocked that the cameras are off.”

  Despite the fact that her heart was now racing wildly, Avery checked the boxes on either side of the ones they’d already looked at. There was no way they’d be coming back; they had to get everything now. She was glad she checked. There were pages of interviews from witnesses—or at least that’s what it looked like at first glance. She stuffed the papers in with the others, trying to be as gentle as possible while working quickly. She pushed the last box in place and ran to Alex’s side as he extinguished the witch light, and they stood still, listening together. Heavy footsteps clumped up the stairs, and they heard the door open.

  Alex pulled her quickly behind the door, trying not to stumble in the dark, and wedged her in the corner so that she was blocked by his body. Avery knew that if they made a noise, their shadow spell wouldn’t stand up to blazing lights.

  The main light went on in the narrow hallway, and Avery pressed back against the wall, reassured to feel Alex in front of her. The floorboards creaked as the security officer paced down the hall, stopping every now and again. He must be alone. As he passed their room the flashlight flooded in, sweeping across the open space a couple of times, and then he passed on, and Avery slowly exhaled. They waited for endless minutes as he progressed slowly up and back down the hall, and then the light went off and the door shut.

  Avery sagged against Alex. That was too close.

  “Do we wait for them to go?” Avery asked.

  “They could be here hours,” he reasoned. “Let’s go now.”

  They headed back along the corridor, creeping silently through the door and down the narrow staircase until they came to the main library. It was empty and silent, and they risked a pale witch light to guide them across to the main door where they extinguished it again and listened for noise from the galleries beyond.

  With a click they eased the door open and stepped onto the wooden floor of the museum. It was dark; in the far distance, a flashlight swept around the corridors and two voices carried across the air.

  They crept from gallery to gallery, ducking into the entrance of each one, progressing slowly onwards. The men moved down into the main hall, and then disappeared into the other galleries on the ground floor. The lighting in the display cabinets was on, and Alex and Avery glanced nervously at each other and then ran down the stairs. As they set foot in the main hall, they heard another voice approaching from the corridor that led to the rear. Avery froze for a second, and then pulled Alex to the old fashioned carriage that sat in the middle of the floor. Within seconds they were lying flat on its floor, the door shut behind them.

  The carriage was small, and while she was able to lie flat between the seats with relative comfort, Alex was squashed in, pressing on top of her.

  “Ouch!” Avery whispered, as Alex’s weight pinned her down, his knee on her leg.

  “Sorry, princess,” he hissed, his mouth to her ear.

  For endless seconds they heard the security guard walk around, and then they heard him speak. “Hey boss, there’s no one here. We’ve checked upstairs and down. The boys are just finishing the back rooms now.” There was silence, and then a grunt. “No. No sign of damage. No forced entry. I reckon the cameras just failed.” Another moment of silence, and then, “Yeah, we’re out soon.”

  Avery heard his footsteps fade as he headed to the other rooms.

  Alex lifted his head and peered through the window. “He’s gone. Let’s go. Now!”

  He pushed the door open, untangling himself as he pulled Avery out behind him, and then closing the door again softly, they headed down the passage leading to the back door.

  Outside, a large security van was on the road, but it was empty. They ran out and onto the street, racing down towards the side street, where they slowed to a stroll as they approached Alex’s car.

  Avery’s heart pounded in her chest, and she expected to hear a shout at any moment. Sweat was beading on her brow and she welcomed the cool night air. She hadn’t even realised how hot she was feeling.

  With a soft chirp, Alex switched off his car alarm and they jumped in. They didn’t stop to congratulate themselves until they were on the outskirts of town, both of them glancing over their shoulders nervously.

  Avery slumped back in her seat as they hit the A390 and sped up. “That was close.”

  “But successful. You coming back to mine?”

  Avery felt her breath catch, and she looked at him, wide-eyed.

  “Surely you want to check the grimoires under witch light?” he said with a grin.

  She laughed. “Yes, I do! But I’ll need a very strong coffee. Or alcohol. Or maybe both.”

 
; 4

  The witch light floated over the two grimoires, revealing silvery shapes magically marked onto the old paper of the spell books.

  “Runes and writing,” Alex murmured, gently turning the pages of his own book, as Avery looked through Briar’s.

  “There are marks on some pages, but not all,” Avery noted.

  Briar’s book was as old as the others, and it contained a mixture of spells, observations on moon cycles, and experiments with herbs and gems. However, the witches who had owned this grimoire had a greater tradition of commenting on the success of the spells, or suggestions for improvements, so that it read as much as a diary as a spell book. The witch light revealed additional notes, some written in English, while some pages were marked with either a single rune or a series of runes.

  Avery peered across at Alex’s book. “It looks similar to this one in the way the runes are used.”

  Alex nodded. “There are some marking protection, others denoting months, or what I think are times to best use a particular spell. They seem to provide a hidden level of enhancement for the spells, which is weird. Why would they add a hidden message to an already very private book?”

  “Added protection from prying eyes?”

  Avery flicked to the unused pages in the back, the grimoire hidden before they could ever be used. Several were indeed blank, but right at the very end the witch light revealed another spell. “Look at this, Alex. This spell has been hidden completely!” She stared at the page, puzzled. “This says: Part Three, The Grounding. Where are the other parts?”

  Alex quickly turned to the back pages of his own and swore. “I have Part Five, The Summoning.”

  They looked at each other as realisation dawned.

  “One spell spread across all five grimoires?” Avery wondered, looking back at Briar’s book. “I don’t know what it’s for. Can you tell from yours?”