Beezley and the Witch series Box Set

by Willow Mason

  Was this part of his grand plan? Had my teacher placed me in desperate straits to show what I could do?

  With a sob of despair, I turned to the water, eyeing up a clean line to the bobbing platform with Mrs Harris halfway along. I wanted to throw out the magic, save her, but my arms collapsed back to my side.

  “You have to do it,” I shouted, my voice cracking. “I can’t and she’s about to die!”

  He cast out the magic, making it appear easy. A knife of air cut through the ocean. Trevor put his glowing hands together, palm to palm, then wrenched them apart.

  Desiree fell onto the ocean floor, gasping in an enormous breath. She coughed it out again, throwing up a glut of the seawater she’d swallowed. Ahead of her, cheated out of the prize goal of their family swim, Tom and Annie cried out in frustration and fear.

  I ran. Unsure if he was still holding the water back or if it would collapse in on me, I sprinted for Mrs Harris. My socks were tugged off by the sucking wet sand, my progress slowing to a crawl.

  Behind me, Trevor must have worked some extra magic as the seabed abruptly dried to concrete. I stumbled across the desiccated sea flora and fauna, dropping to my knees next to Desiree.

  “Can you stand?” I yelled out, the blood pumping through my ears with such force it deafened me to other sounds. “We need to get back to shore.”

  The woman’s eyes turned to me, but her face stayed fixed, her body rigid. I tried to lift her up but couldn’t bend the tight muscles.

  With a howl of frustration, I turned back to Trevor. He was staring with horror at the children, still crying their woes to the world. “Can’t you help me?”

  He ran over to assist and with his added muscle, we moved Desiree to the safety of the beach. As soon as I let go of her arm, she turned and headed back towards the sea.

  “What’s happening to her?”

  Trevor stared back at the children. “She’s under a spell. Unless we break it, she’ll just keep doing as instructed.”

  “You think they’re doing it?” I shaded my face with one hand and stared at Tom and Annie. They were so young. So innocent.

  “They don’t know about consequences,” Trevor said, pulling Desiree back from the surf again and heading out for the two kids. “But they’re about to find out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m not leaving them alone with her,” Trevor said later, once we’d got the trio home. “If they don’t understand placing their mother under a spell is wrong, I don’t fancy her chances of making it through to tomorrow safely.”

  Although Tom and Annie had expressed regret and worry when Trevor dragged them from the water to witness their mother’s distress, neither one of them had come clean over what they’d done.

  “We need to have a serious talk with the whole class,” I said, thinking of James Sloan and Bailey Majors.

  The caretaker at the cemetery had been my first guess as a troublemaker but I couldn’t figure out how he fitted in. Most likely, he had hessian from the bags of seed to sow on new graves and the doll belonged to the children. James and his unidentified friend.

  I called Glynda to let her know what had happened, and she agreed to meet us the following morning. As the leader of our coven, she had a great deal of influence with the local witch school. Raising a child right when they had magic powers took a community and Greenmount Primary was an integral part.

  “You’re sure the children are behind it?” Glynda’s tone verged on horrified.

  “Not one hundred percent but close.”

  “Are you still at their house?” When I answered yes, she said, “Hold tight. I’m coming around.”

  “Well, Tom and Annie, this is quite a large entourage you have,” Miss Armitage said with a smile as Glynda, Trevor, and I followed the children into the schoolroom the next day. Beezley had cried off the meeting, pointing out he had police work to do. “Did you become famous overnight and forget to tell us?”

  The children didn’t respond to the banter, and a frown creased the teacher’s forehead before Glynda spoke. “We want to have a word with you.”

  I’d been on the receiving end of that tone before and, just like me, Miss Armitage complied immediately.

  “Open your exercise books and turn to the word search on page forty-nine. Anyone who completes it before I come back will get a gold star!”

  The children eagerly opened their books, and I felt a sense of wonder at how easily they could be manipulated. I had vague memories of stickers once being a lot more important in my life than they now were but hadn’t expected the attraction to still work. Pre-internet kids were a lot more gullible, but it was worrisome to see nothing much had changed.

  “How can I help?”

  Miss Armitage looked like she’d stepped straight out of the pages of an Anne of Green Gables novel. An elderly schoolmarm, grey hair tucked back in a tight bun. A woman who’d never married and now never would but who wanted the best for every child in her classroom. I imagined she’d have a stern frown for misbehaving and a kind smile for those who performed well.

  “We believe some children in this class have been using voodoo,” Glynda said, getting straight to the point.

  “Oh, no.” The teacher raised a hand to cover her mouth. “But all the boys and girls are so well behaved. I can’t believe they’d use black magic.”

  “Hey,” both Trevor and I said at the same time. “It’s nothing to do with black magic,” he continued. “This is about accessing information well before these kids know right from wrong.”

  “They’re old enough to know that,” Glynda said through thin lips. “And if they haven’t learned it by now, I’m happy to teach them a lesson.”

  I shuddered to think what being schooled by the coven leader would entail. Those children were far too young to experience such a thing.

  “Have any of the children earned access to the occult library?” I asked. Usually, the treasure trove of information that Harriet guarded would be off-limits until they were fourteen, but advanced skills and a responsible nature could earn a younger child an exemption.

  “If they’ve been granted something like that,” Miss Armitage answered, “it didn’t come via the school.”

  And Glynda shook her head. “I think it’s pretty clear from their behaviour that none of these children would qualify for such a privilege.”

  From Miss Armitage’s face, I guessed she wanted to take exception to that, but she wisely chose to keep her mouth shut instead.

  “Look, standing out here bickering isn’t going to get us where we need to be.” Trevor pulled the door open. “James Sloan, Bailey Majors, Tom and Annie Harris, and Maude and Jack Connor, come out here please.”

  “But I haven’t finished the word search,” Bailey cried out, slouching in her chair. “It’s not fair.”

  Trevor glared at her silently until she decided a gold star wasn’t worth the aggravation. “Fine, I’m coming.” She stomped into the corridor, hands clenching into fists.

  The other children didn’t mount any protest, hanging their heads as their classmates stared at them in open curiosity.

  “What’d they do?” a boy in the front row called out. “Are they going to be expelled?”

  “Never you mind,” Trevor said, pointing at the boy’s open book. “Concentrate on your schoolwork.”

  “Are you planning on chastising them out here in the hallway?” Glynda asked, her arms folded across her chest. “If this is an example of your teaching ability, I should probably cancel your black magic instruction right now.”

  “Do you have a free room?” Trevor asked Miss Armitage while curling his lip in Glynda’s direction.

  “Y-you can c-come along here,” she stammered, one hand pressed to her chest. Her sensibly low heels clacked on the old wooden planks that made up the floor. “This is the stationery cupboard, but we don’t have much call for it now.”

  A few old boxes were stacked against the wall, partially blocking the wire-reinforced w
indows. I took a few steps inside, hesitant to touch any of the furniture, coated in thick sheets of dust.

  “Now, we know you kids have been up to no good, raising the dead and influencing your parents and whatnot.” Trevor perched his hands on his hips, legs wide apart. Even if he wasn’t so tall and broad-shouldered, he would have been intimidating. “It’s time to fess up to the trouble you’ve caused and tell us where you learned how to do this stuff.”

  In the back of my head, Beezley told me precision was the name of the game. “If you cast a wide net, you’ll catch a load of old rubbish while the fish you want swims free.”

  “What Mr Wiltshire means,” I said when sullen silence greeted his statement, “is we suspect James raised his dead grandfather, Bailey influenced her mother to buy her sweeties, Maude and Jack made their dog drive a vehicle, and Tom and Annie forced their mother to swim.”

  My gaze followed my accusations. Bailey met my eyes head-on while the other children dropped their heads, preferring the view of the floor.

  “You did what?” Miss Armitage wavered between shocked and disappointed. “How did you even know how to do these awful things?”

  James glanced up quickly, then his eyes flitted away. I stared along the line, waiting for one of them to offer more than an awkward grimace.

  The seconds stretched out into minutes. Glynda’s face grew darker with every passing moment, blood rushing into her cheeks and large splotches creeping up from the collar of her blouse. If a child didn’t break soon, our leader’s head might burst.

  I’d had enough explosions to last a lifetime, thank you very much.

  “James, did you use this doll to raise your grandfather from his grave?” I pulled the old hessian toy out of my pocket, hard kidney beans bouncing off the floor as they tumbled free.

  Out of the line up in front of me, it seemed Welly going to visit his sweetheart was the only action performed to the benefit of someone else. The other children’s spells were selfish.

  The boy’s lower lip trembled, and he ran a finger under his nose. I exchanged a glance with Miss Armitage whose eyes were now blazing.

  Feeling like a bully, I stepped in front of him and crouched down to his level. “James, can you tell us where you found the information about performing voodoo?” I waved the doll, another few beans dropping free from the stuffing. When he reached out to catch one, I pushed the object into his hand. “Amber Smithers was very frightened when your grandfather went into the bank. She couldn’t see him at all at first until he grabbed her.”

  “I didn’t mean to frighten her,” James said, his eyes wide. “Granddad would never do anything to hurt her. He thought the sun shone out of her—”

  “James!” Miss Armitage’s sharp voice stopped the boy short.

  “I’m sure if he was alive, he wouldn’t frighten Amber, but he walked into the bank smelling like a grave and dropping sods of earth onto the ground.” I tossed up telling the boy about how Welly’s eyes had been shut, his mouth stuffed with cotton, and decided that was a nightmare I could spare him. “Meeting someone after they’ve been buried isn’t the same as talking to them when they’re alive.”

  A tear rolled down the boy’s cheek, dripping onto the floor next to a kidney bean. Too late, James wiped his eyes. “I got the idea from a book on voodoo that I found tucked away in the attic of the school.”

  His eyes turned upwards, as though he could see through the tiny soundproofing holes straight into the rooms above.

  “Where in the attic?” Glynda asked, her voice squeaking. “Show us at once.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Miss Armitage asked, her voice shrill. “I’m appalled the children were up in the attic, nosing about. It’s a dangerous place.”

  “Doesn’t it have a staircase?”

  “No. It has a pull-down ladder with half the treads missing. Honestly”—she shook her head, tears welling in her eyes—“it’s not safe.”

  “I can fly up there if need be,” Glynda said, tilting her head back to look down her nose at the trembling teacher. “Now show us.”

  While Trevor led the children back to their classroom, Miss Armitage took us through the school corridors, into a cloakroom. “It’s up there,” she said, pointing. “I don’t know if I’d even be able to reach the rope.”

  Glynda tried, jumping up and snagging the end. It broke off halfway down, letting the trapdoor back up with a thump while the loose rope snaked onto the floor.

  Before Miss Armitage could say ‘I told you so’ and earn herself a spot in Glynda’s little black book of revenge, I dragged a bench beneath the spot. Even on tiptoe, I couldn’t reach.

  “We need Trevor back,” I said, then spied another man striding past the window. “Who’s that?”

  “Marcus,” Miss Armitage said, squaring her shoulders. “He’s the new PE teacher.”

  The job description fitted nicely with his athletic build. If our local theatre troupe ever wanted to put on a show, he could fit quite nicely into the role of Thor. Or better still take a part in The Full Monty.

  “We have a new teacher?” Glynda said in surprise, squinting at the elderly woman until her gaze dropped to the floor. “Since when?”

  “He came to the school a month or two ago. I’m not really sure of the date.”

  Glynda turned to me. “Go fetch him. I’d rather send a well-built man up those stairs into the darkness than myself if it comes down to it. He’s a warlock?”

  Miss Armitage nodded, a flush of colour rising in her cheeks. “But he isn’t involved in magic lessons. Strictly sports and physical education.”

  I was more than happy to give chase to the strapping young man and ran out the nearest side-door, catching up with him before the end of the block. When we reached the cloakroom, Miss Armitage’s face was crestfallen and I guessed Glynda had taken the opportunity to give her a dressing down.

  “I heard you need a bit of help,” Marcus said, strutting between the two women like a peacock splaying his tail feathers. “Just let me grab hold of this…”

  He jumped up, pulled down the ladder, and stepped out of the way with fluid grace. My clumsy limbs shuffled off to a corner to think about what they’d done.

  “Would you mind checking out the room for us?” Glynda asked with a simpering smile.

  I guessed Miss Armitage also had a crush on the new PE teacher because she shot a look full of pointy metal ends at the coven leader. How cute. Rather than a May September romance, it would be closer to February November.

  “I don’t suppose anyone knows where the light switch should be?” Marcus called down once he reached the attic. After receiving a chorus of noes, he illuminated the space with a small sphere of light. “What was it you’re looking for?”

  “Move back, I’m coming up,” Glynda called out before alighting the steps. When her foot slipped through one, she floated, propelling herself through the air instead. “Doesn’t anyone ever dust up here?”

  “Nobody goes up there at all if they can help it.”

  Miss Armitage stepped back, waving me up the ladder ahead of her. Without access to Glynda’s skills, I took my time and made sure every step was secure before adding my weight.

  I clambered off the side of the ladder on my hands and knees, showing a complete lack of grace. When I raised my now-dirty hand to rub at my nose it set off a string of sneezes.

  “Stay down there,” Glynda said, poking her head through the trapdoor to yell down at the teacher. “No sense us all dying when a floorboard gives way.”

  We moved away from the entrance, Marcus leading with his magic glow ball. I yanked at a chain hanging in the centre of the room and was rewarded with a weak beam of light from a single, naked bulb. Considering the amount of dust covering the glass, it was amazing any light came from it at all.

  “Kids come up here?” I said, doubt colouring my voice. “They might like an adventure, but this is just nasty.”

  “Children are into nasty,” Marcus said with a wide gri
n. “Haven’t you ever seen their fascination with scabs or dead bugs? They’re fully weird.”

  “Great attitude for a primary school teacher,” Glynda said with a sniff she soon regretted as she burst into a protracted bout of coughing.

  “If they were up here, they must’ve been practising their flying skills.” I swept my arm in a circle. “The only footprints in the dust are ours.” I felt so discomforted, my fingertips began to glow crimson. Although I put a clamped down on the magic quickly, I saw a matching glow from further along the filthy attic floor.

  “Don’t go too far!” Glynda ordered as I made a beeline for the crimson light.

  A song erupted as I got within a step of an old, leather-bound book. The beauty of the creation gave me pause, and I closed my eyes for a second to enjoy the music. The moment I put my hand on the cover, it stopped.

  “It’s a volume on voodoo.” I brought it back to the other two, holding the front close to Marcus’s ball of light. “I guess the children were telling the truth.”

  “One point in their favour, though they should’ve known better than to muck about with it.” Glynda took the book into her hands and I felt an immediate pang of loss. I pressed a hand against my stomach, willing the selfish impulses away.

  When she opened the book, it fell to a page with a voodoo doll illustration, along with a list of invocations. “How to control another’s mind. How to get what you want. How to raise the dead.”

  Glynda closed the book with a snap, her lips curling. “Let’s get back downstairs. It’s time I gave those children a piece of my mind.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I’m ashamed that I have to tell a class full of young witches not to fool about with things they don’t understand.” Glynda strutted back and forth in front of the class, her face radiating disappointment. “For many years, Greenmount Primary has been one of the best schools for witches in the country, if not the very best. Now, I find out some pupils…”

  She trailed off into a choking sob, upsetting half the class enough for tears to well in their young eyes. When she recovered her composure, most of the children had enough empathy to appear ashamed.