A Spell in the Country

by Heide Goody

  Dee spotted Zoffner standing stood on the lawn gazing up at them. Norma gave him a slightly saucy wave.

  “Focus, poppet,” said Dee. “They have Caroline and Shazam held prisoner.”

  Norma nodded curtly and signalled that they should approach the hall from opposite sides. Dee dropped down to fly across the front façade of the house, looking for clues.

  Kay raised an eyebrow at the sight of her colleagues flying on items of garden equipment, but a shout from behind made her look aside. Doug Bowman was running across the lawn towards her.

  “Stop right there!” he yelled. “You’ve given me no end of trouble, girl.” There was an object in his hand – the Taser. Kay remembered it and almost froze in terror.

  “I got a lot on my plate right now,” snapped Bowman. “But you’re one problem I can put right straight away.”

  “Now, see here, young man,” said Zoffner reasonably. “There’s no cause for all this negativity.”

  “Step away, grandad,” said Bowman, a vicious grin on his face.

  Kay almost froze in terror at the sight of the man who’d held her captive. Instead, she embraced that part of her which had spent time exercising her powers in the company of new friends. She gave Bowman a serene smile of her own. He faltered, hesitated, raised one hand against what was about to come.

  “Too late,” said Kay.

  A bee buzzed across his face. He stopped to swat it away. Then there was another, and another; all too soon there was a swarm of them, forming a cloud around his head.

  “Well played child,” said Zoffner. “I abhor violence but … well played.”

  “Let’s go,” she said. “Jenny needs our help.”

  They left Bowman screaming and flailing, and hurried up to the house.

  Caroline and Shazam had freed the other women from their gags and bonds. They busied themselves pulling out cannulae, urging the women to sip fluids once they were free. Few of them had the strength to stand, some were barely conscious. They remained on their beds, their dull eyes enlivened slightly with a glimmer of hope. Caroline looked at them and knew she was not equipped to rescue them all.

  “What about the door?” asked Shazam, who sat next to Sabrina, gently helping her to flex her limbs.

  “I can get through it, although it’s going to take longer than the other one. Especially with sequin based lock picks,” said Caroline.

  “Look there,” said Sabrina, pointing at a set of drawers. “I’m sure there are tools in there that might be more suitable.”

  Caroline looked through the drawers; they were full of medical paraphernalia. She pulled out some long metal stabby things. She tried to imagine what they might be used for in a medical context, but stopped herself. It was just plain terrifying. They did, however, look as though they might pick a lock more efficiently than a sequin. As she approached the door, a shadow fell across the window high above them. A familiar face appeared: a grim smile of satisfaction on it.

  “Norma!” Caroline cried. She attempted a mime to convey the situation: lots of weakened women, no means of rescuing them from a locked room. Norma responded by stepping backwards and kicking in the window.

  “You look as though you could do with a hand,” said Norma as she toed the leftover glass aside.

  “The window’s too small and this door is locked.”

  “Right-o, Miss Black,” said Norma with surprisingly good cheer. She placed something on the window sill. “You might want to stand back.”

  “Why? And why are you holding a picnic umbrella?”

  “Stand. Back,” said Norma. “Ösgön!”

  Caroline tripped backwards as a small sapling appeared on the window sill. She dragged a young and bewildered witch out of the way as the sapling grew rapidly. Caroline had seen ruined buildings with trees growing through them; where roots and branches had relentlessly pushed bricks and mortar aside. She had not, however, seen it accomplished at a million times the normal speed. In an explosion of shattered brick and snapped timbers, a near full-sized oak tree took hold and transformed the narrow window space into a cave-like opening in the ceiling of the room.

  Effie looked up at the swinging ceiling light, and the woman around her. Was no one else noticing this? Did they not feel the tremor that had run through the room? Was no one going to mention anything?

  “Everything all right, Effie?” said Natasha.

  “Oh, um, yes,” said Effie.

  “I think the staff are being a bit noisy upstairs, aren’t they?”

  “Are they?” nodded Effie politely and raised her glass. “Cheers.”

  “Wow,” said Shazam, gazing at the tree-wrought hole. “That was like magic.”

  Norma started to climb through the hole.

  “Watch out Norma, it’s quite a drop from—”

  Caroline ended up sitting on the bed next to Shazam and Sabrina as Norma swooped down into the room on a bizarre, flying parasol.

  “Nice ride, Norma!” said Shazam. “I suppose the umbrella bit is used as an air brake.”

  “Nustoti!” commanded Norma. The parasol was at once lifeless in her hands.

  “Ur, let me guess,” said Sabrina. “Have you used my permanent PK potential rings?”

  “Yes we did. Interesting story about where we found them.” Norma looked properly around the room for the first time. “Perhaps you already know some of the details, though.”

  “Elizabeth Báthory is here,” said Caroline.

  Norma pursed her lip. “The crooked cop. His employer—?”

  “Is Báthory.”

  “She must be very old. What on earth must she look like?”

  “Ur, she looks somewhat like a cousin of mine,” said Sabrina. “Cheekbones you could cut yourself on, but the eyes … golden, loving.”

  “Well then, I believe I have seen her.”

  “You have?” said Shazam.

  “Natasha du Plessis is Elizabeth Báthory, rejuvenated.” said Norma.

  Sabrina nodded.

  Norma lowered her voice. “And does that anti-aging technique rely on draining the life force out of all these poor souls?” She looked across at the other beds.

  “That sorceress has had centuries to perfect it,” said Sabrina.

  “We need to move this lot,” said Caroline, walking around the beds to assess the freed captives. All of the witches were now conscious, but still very weak, their eyelids sagging. “We need a way to get these girls to safety. And none of them are climbing up to that hole. How good are you at flying that thing, Norma?”

  “Proficient, heading towards excellent,” said Norma. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Get over here, Cobwebs,” said Caroline. “We’re going to try something out on you.”

  “Why me?” asked Shazam.

  “Because if it goes horribly wrong, you’re more likely to bounce than any of these girls.” Caroline whipped a sheet off a bed. “Lie down on this, we’re going to wrap you up for transport.”

  Jenny tried to extract her mind away to a happy place. If she thought about the saw blade that was now vibrating the edge of her shoes, the gorge rose in her throat. Maybe it would actually be better to choke on her own vomit than to bear the agony of a saw ripping her in half?

  “That’s right,” she said out loud. “Cheery thoughts, Jenny.”

  Something in the rafters chuckled.

  “Nustoti!”

  Dee stepped off her levitating strimmer onto the balcony. She’d flown along the front of the house several times before deciding to investigate that weird jerking silhouette in one of the upper windows. It had looked like a guinea pig throwing shapes in an illicit rodent rave.

  She pushed aside the net drapes to discover that the thing in the cage was a small and unbelievably hideous gargoyle: part goblin, part cow, part STD scrapbook and all manner of hideous.

  “Ugly animals need love too,” she murmured as she approached.

  “’Old yer ‘orses” said the creature. “A bit of ’ot lovin
’ sounds smashin’ but we ain’t been introduced yet.”

  Dee gasped, automatically rifling through her handbag, thinking of all the lessons that Norma had taught her. “It’s an imp! It’s an imp!” she whimpered.

  What did she need to defeat the imp of a wicked witch? That must surely be what this creature was. It was tiny, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t harmful, and she needed to be very careful. Could it ensnare her with its voice? She wasn’t sure why else it would have manifested itself to her.

  “Not listening, not listening,” she chanted under her breath.

  “Gawd, yer a bit ’ot under the collar aintcha?” said the imp. “I know it can be a shock to see such an ’andsome and well ’ung imp such as myself for the first time, but you really need to get over yourself. Jenny’s in trouble.”

  “Jenny?” she blinked. “You’re her imp.”

  “Jizzimus Ruff-Diamond Parallelogram at your service. Or at hers anyway. Although that might all change shortly as I will become an ex-imp as soon as these bleeders carry out their murderous plot.”

  “Jenny’s still here?”

  “Darn tootin’, sister. Let me out of here and I’ll take you to her. Reckon you could take me to ’er on your sky-rocket. I ‘’as been wavin’ at you fer ages.”

  Dee’s hand hovered over the cage’s lock and she fixed the imp with a firm gaze. “I’m choosing to believe you, imp. If you corrupt and ensorcell me once you’re out of here, I want you to know that I will be very, very disappointed,” said Dee.

  “I ain’t ensorcelled no one. S’vicious rumour.”

  “Anyway, aren’t you meant to be invisible?”

  “Yeah, but I can switch.” He gave a grunt and a tiny fart and was gone. “See?” said an invisible voice. Another grunt and miniscule trump and he was back again. “Ta-dah, biatch.”

  “Is the flatulence strictly necessary?”

  “Nope. Jus’ a special bonus for the ladies,” he said with a click and a wink.

  Kay ran with Zoffner into the stable yard and hung back in the shadows when she saw George was there. He hung his goggles on a wall peg and went through the chain curtain into the kitchens.

  “You’re not dead!” exclaimed a voice behind Kay.

  Kay turned and saw Dee approaching her, a hedge-strimmer in her hand and something that looked like a zombie turd on her shoulder.

  “But the ice-cream van—” said Dee.

  “We weren’t in it,” said Zoffner.

  “That was lucky.”

  “The universe watches over us all, my dreamy lady.”

  “Oh,” said the turd thing in apparent recognition. “It’s Gandalf Grey-pubes, the one who speaks bollocks in a cardboard cave for a livin’.”

  “My fame grows ever further,” said Zoffner.

  Kay pointed at the weird creature. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Long story,” said Dee. “You probably won’t believe this, but I’ve got Jenny’s imp here and he says Jenny’s in trouble.”

  Kay nodded at the creature. “I thought they were meant to be invisible.”

  “Shall I show her?” said the imp.

  “Not now, poppet. But Jizzimus says that all the other witches imps are in that stable and they are invisible.”

  “That cum-burger George uses magic goggles to see ’em,” said Jizzimus.

  Kay ran over to the wall peg and snatched up the goggles.

  “But Jizzimus says we should let him go in first,” said Dee. “He has a plan.”

  “Plan wiv a capital Fuck Yeah,” said Jizzimus.

  The creature beckoned and they walked further into the stable block. The distant buzzing of a saw guided them to the correct building, but when Kay approached the doorway she stopped, her brain struggling to process what she saw before her. Were these all witches’ imps? How could there be so many, and what on earth was the big one? She was only dimly aware of the small creature scampering past them.

  Sabrina was the last of the witches to be airlifted out of the dungeon ward.

  “Time to go, Sabrina,” said Caroline.

  “Ur, I don’t want to go out in a shroud,” said Sabrina.

  “Let’s call it a sling,” said Caroline carefully.

  “No, thanks.”

  “It’s no time to get picky, posh-knickers.”

  Sabrina fixed her with a hard stare before casting around the room. Her eyes settled on a wheelchair by the wall. Norma’s face appeared in the hole in the ceiling and gave Caroline a stern look when she saw her next fare wasn’t ready to go.

  “Problem, ladies?” she asked.

  “Ur, not at all,” said Sabrina.

  “As long as that thing can take the weight,” said Caroline.

  The saw blade was between Jenny’s knees now. She was generally unhappy about this.

  Something landed on her chest.

  “Jizzimus!”

  “Shut it, wench!” he said.

  “Quick! I haven’t got long!”

  “I’m not ’ere to rescue you, you piss-poor excuse for a wicked witch!”

  “But—”

  “If I let you go, these other imps ’ere would just tie you up again.”

  A low chortle in the cobwebby darkness confirmed this.

  “And damned right, an’ all!” spat Jizzimus. “I’ve ’ad it up to ’ere wiv you. Ooh, look at me. I’m Jenny Knott. I don’ eat ickle kiddy-winks. I jus’ eat vegetables an’ fart all night. I don’ smoke. I don’ do drugs. I don’ have sex wiv random strangers in lay-bys. I won’ even fund my imp’s sure-fire imp porn business! You’re a fackin’ joke, woman!”

  “Jizz,” she trembled, “I’m sorry I’ve not been the best—”

  “Shut it, you slag. I’m jus’ gunna sit back and watch you get sliced up like sushi and then go solo.”

  “Fool,” a deep voice laughed from the darkness.

  Jizzimus whirled. “Who was that?”

  A shadow fell to the ground, suddenly visible. It leered with a face that was more scar tissue than skin, apparently held together by pus.

  “Me, Clappoxian,” it snarled.

  “An’ you dare call me, Jizzimus Girthmighty, a fool?”

  “I do. You’re a worm, and a brainless worm at that. Soon as she dies, so do you.”

  Jizzimus gave him a look of utter contempt. “Is that what you think?” he spat. “Is that what you think? Little baby’s gunna die wivout ’is muvver?”

  “It’s fact,” said Clappoxian. “You can’t change the world.”

  “You know nuffin ‘’bout the real world,” said Jizzimus. “You wouldn’t survive five minutes out there. Fancy being kept in a stable like a bunch of slave monkey losers!” There was a low growling sound from the other imps. “Tell you what,” he continued. “I bet you all have some sort of imp groomer who comes round and shampoos your scales and trims your claws, like show poodles. When you’re a street imp you learn to do stuff like this.”

  There was a change in the noise the saw made. Jenny strained to look up. Jizzimus stood over the blade and was holding out a hand, claws extended. The tips splintered in the path of the blade.

  “See, proper hard, that is! I wouldn’t even care if it cut my fingers off. None of you lot would have the brass balls to do that, eh, eh?”

  As Jenny watched, Clappoxian stepped forward and pushed Jizzimus out of the way.

  “Little punk!” it growled. “You got no idea who you’re dealing with!”

  Clappoxian thrust his hand into the saw blade and sliced it off at the wrist without a moment’s hesitation. He guffawed and picked up the amputated appendage for all to see. Jenny knew that for imps, bound as they were to the life of their witches, such self-mutilation wasn’t permanent. That didn’t stop it being stupid.

  “Zat is nussing!” declared another imp, dropping down and becoming visible. “Vatch me cut my leg off!”

  With a roar of pure aggression, it lifted its leg onto the saw blade. The leg flew off into a corner and the imp shouted in pain and t
riumph, toppling over as he lost his balance.

  Jenny stared at the curious new dynamic rippling through the group of imps. It would not be true to say it took her mind off the saw blade: between her thighs and heading north. Whatever Jizz’s plan was, she hoped it was going to reach fruition soon. In something like the next thirty seconds, she reckoned—

  Imps were popping into visibility left, right and centre, seizing the opportunity to show how tough they were by mutilating, amputating and generally knocking themselves silly. One was head-butting the rafters. Another had found the spare circular saw blades and was trying to fit as many as possible in his mouth. A third had picked up Caroline’s apple moonshine still and was repeatedly smashing it against his face.

  Then the largest of them, the hulking Malunguibus, stepped forward. He aimed a callous and dismissive kick at the one-legged imp struggling on the floor. When he spoke, it was a deep grinding sound: a rockslide modulated into something that barely qualified as speech. “You wrong. I show you. Nobody beat Malunguibus.”

  The giant imp lowered his monstrous head. He thrust it into Jenny’s lap, his neck across the saw blade. Jenny felt the splatter of his bodily fluids up her legs, but the blade only partly penetrated his neck. He gave a gargling grunt and pressed down harder. The saw stuttered and jammed. The motor beneath her whined as it struggled for purchase. Malunguibus jerked his head up in disgust and the blade came completely away, embedded deeply in his neck.

  Jenny released a huge breath she hadn’t realise she’d been holding. The saw was broken. But she was still strapped to a table, at the mercy of her enemies and her enemies’ imps.

  Malunguibus turned to the group of imps and gave another gargling grunt, clearly expressing his triumph and superiority over all other imps.