by Elle Adams
Then I spotted three figures apart from the others, trekking down the hillside. The glowing purplish light of the sceptre was unmistakable. This was no hallucination in the fog, but Grace and her daughters, sneaking up on the oblivious witches and wizards gathering on the hillside. Judging by the way they carried on chatting, they had no idea they were about to be ambushed. The Rosemary witches might not have created the fog themselves, but they’d used it to their full advantage. Ghosts appeared, surrounding the three Rosemary witches as though drawn by the sceptre’s presence. Shivering, I flew overhead, hoping my glamour remained in place, and pointed my wand at Grace from behind.
My spell bounced clean off her. She must have used the sceptre to shield herself—unless it was the ghosts.
Grace turned on the spot. “Don’t bother hiding, Blair. I knew you’d wriggle out of our trap. You think I’m unaware of your special fairy powers?”
I should have known. The last thing I wanted was to show myself, but if they froze me again, they’d have total control.
“I have something I think you want.” I dug my hand in my pocket for the book. “You can’t use the sceptre without knowing how it works.”
“You mean to bargain with us?” she said. “We know how to use the sceptre, and we don’t need a guidebook to know that it will pick one of us at the end of the ceremony. We already have its power on our side. The spirits know that, too.”
My heart gave a sickening dive. The sceptre was glowing in her hands, the same way it had done in Aveline’s, surrounded by flickering spirits.
Did that mean it was already too late?
“What are you going to do to Aveline?” I said. “It still belongs to her by right.”
“Not for much longer.” She held the sceptre high. “Let’s see how Madame Grey deals with this.”
The thickening fog turned solid, and my wings stopped mid-beat as though caught in a net. But the spell had a worse effect on the crowd. The procession ground to a halt as the fog pressed on them from either side, a solid force caging them in position.
I heard Aveline’s shout drifting over the crowd. I beat my wings, attempting to fly towards her. It was like moving through thick mud, but inch by inch, I drew closer. Aveline hobbled along, muttering angrily to herself.
“Hey!” I shouted at her. “Stop the line. You’re walking into a trap.”
“What are you blathering on about, girl?” she said.
“Grace Rosemary faked her death, and she has the sceptre. She and her daughters are controlling this fog and they’re planning to claim the sceptre’s magic for their own. They killed Shannon and they’re coming for you next.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, girl,” she said. “Nobody but me can use the sceptre.”
“Not for much longer.” My wings beat so hard they hurt, and the fog continued to press against me like a solid force. The air was as thick as sludge
Several disgruntled shouts echoed down the line. Nobody could see where they were going, but they hadn’t broken into a panic yet. They didn’t know the worsening fog was the result of a spell.
“Believe me, Grace isn’t dead,” I said. “She has the sceptre right there—”
Grace appeared, parting the fog with a blast of violet light.
Aveline turned her way, her eyes widening. “She really is alive.”
“You don’t say.” How can I stop this? Even wings weren’t much of an advantage against the fog or the ghosts, let alone the sceptre.
Aveline grabbed for her wand, as did several others who were quick on the uptake, but their spells bounced off a solid wave of ghosts cloaking the three Rosemary witches, preventing anyone from touching them.
“Stop!” screamed a voice. A blast of air flew at the three witches from behind, smacking into the shield.
Sammi appeared behind them, running down the hillside. Oh, no. She must have left Rebecca and followed me in an attempt to make up for stealing the sceptre—but one novice witch was no match for three dangerous killers. I tried to catch her eye, but she wasn’t looking at me.
Rebecca appeared behind Sammi, panting hard.
“STOP!” she screamed at the three witches.
Amazingly, they did. The shielding spell hadn’t blocked her powers—but she’d never used it on three people before, let alone three adult witches wielding a powerful magical object.
“Get out of the way!” she yelled at Sammi. “I don’t know how long it will last.”
“I can’t move!” Sammi said. “The ghosts—Blair, help me!”
I beat my wings as hard as I could, but it was hopeless—while the Rosemary witches might be trapped by Rebecca’s magic, the fog and the spirits remained, keeping the rest of us held in place.
Then a flash of glittering light drew my eyes. The pixie flitted past… and he wasn’t alone.
A flock of other winged creatures flew alongside him in a flood of light. The ghosts cringed backwards from the brightness, and even Grace shielded her eyes against the wings’ reflective light. The pixie had brought friends.
A cry from Sammi alerted me to the sceptre in Grace’s hands. I flew through the thinning fog as a flood of pixies descended on her. The sceptre dropped from her hands, rolling down the hillside.
Several people grabbed for it at once, but Rebecca got there first. Her hands closed around the sceptre’s base, and a cry escaped her as it lit up with a dazzling purple light.
“NO!” screamed Grace. “I won’t allow it.”
Rebecca straightened upright, the sceptre in her hands, looking bewildered. “What do I do with it?”
“The sceptre has chosen you,” Aveline said. “You’re the next Head Witch.”
Rebecca swayed on the spot as though she was about to faint. With an impatient noise, the former Head Witch flicked her wand, sending all three Rosemary witches sprawling into the mud.
Before she could do more, Madame Grey herself swept towards us, waving her wand. In an instant, the three Rosemary witches lay in a heap, their hands and ankles bound.
The crowd looked on, dumbstruck at the sight of the sceptre in Rebecca’s hands.
“Is this a trick?” said Sammi. “It can’t have chosen her. I mean, she’s a kid, right?”
“It’s never happened before,” said Madame Grey. “But the sceptre’s choice cannot be doubted.”
Rebecca trembled the spot, her face pale. “No way.”
“She’s right,” Grace called from the ground. “No way. It’s a mistake. We didn’t even finish the ceremony. Try again and it’ll pick one of us for sure.”
Rebecca swung the sceptre around, pointing it directly at them. “It won’t pick any of you. You’re liars and murderers.”
“The message is clear,” Madame Grey put in. “The sceptre stays here in Fairy Falls.”
Silence fell. Then applause rippled through the crowd as the witches and wizards caught on to what was happening.
“Rebecca Dailey!” The voices rang out in a chorus. Hats flew into the air in a flurry, caught in their owners’ hands.
Rebecca stared at the crowd calling her name, lost for words, as I landed at her side.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “Madame Grey will help you.”
I hoped so, because I was clueless. But the murderers lay tied up at our feet, the fog was clearing, and a flock of glittering wings passed overhead before disappearing from sight.
16
The morning after Samhain, I woke bright and early and determined to join Alissa and restore my flat to its previous condition. The first item on our agenda was to replace that ghastly pink sofa with our old comfy furniture. Sky’s contribution was to wander around and leave cat hair on everything, meowing at the top of his lungs. I was so relieved to have my purring familiar back again that I didn’t even mind when he destroyed the last piece of bubble wrap he found under the bed.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I whispered, stroking him behind the ears.
“Miaow.” Sky seemed oddly subdued, perha
ps because he’d been left out of the Samhain ceremony after suffering through so many rehearsals. He hissed in Aveline’s direction when she stomped into the room, looking at the restored furniture arrangement with a disgruntled expression on her face.
“You might have waited until I was gone before you set your little monsters loose in here,” she said.
“We’re not running a hostel, Aveline,” Alissa said, ducking out of her bedroom with a purring Roald in her arms. Leaning close to me, she whispered, “He peed in her bed last night.”
I stifled a laugh at the furious expression on Aveline’s face. Before she could lash out, Vanessa came into view.
“Oh, Blair, Alissa.” She gave us a watery smile. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Sorry your stay wasn’t a pleasant one,” I said. “And for the ghosts, the thievery and the murders.”
“Miaow,” said Sky, which might have meant, and for the cat hair. Or it could have meant, go away. He’d made his feelings on us ever having anyone to stay in the flat again crystal clear.
Thanks to Madame Grey, the Rosemary witches were on their way to jail where they belonged, while Aveline intended to take her daughter back home and enjoy her retirement in peace. She’d had a more eventful trip than planned, and despite her behaviour, I felt kind of sorry for the way her reign as Head Witch had ended.
“Someone’s here to see you,” Vanessa said, peering out the window.
An instant later, the doorbell rang. Nathan? He’d been on the night shift again, preventing me from talking to him face to face about last night’s events. No doubt he’d heard it all—everything I hadn’t been able to fit into a text message, anyway.
It wasn’t Nathan. I opened the front door to find Rebecca outside, holding the sceptre in her hand like a giant baton that made her look even younger than usual. Behind me, Aveline came out of the room, and Rebecca shot her a nervous glance.
“Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?”
“Uh, fine.” She bit her lip, glancing at Aveline again. “I’m sorry. For using my power on you.”
She grunted. “You have a gift, girl. A dangerous one. See to it that you listen to your mentor in future.”
Rebecca blinked in surprise. “I’m not ready for this,” she blurted. “You’re a more experienced witch than I am. I can barely use a wand, let alone the sceptre.”
“Experience?” she said. “You have more experience than most witches your age, I’d wager. Ignore the naysayers. It never did me any harm.”
I raised an eyebrow. Treating people’s houses like hostels was a step too far, but Rebecca had way more sense than a lot of adults I’d met. The former Head Witch being one of them.
“But I have no idea how to use it,” she mumbled.
“Do you think I did when I was first chosen as the bearer?” said Aveline. “Just point it in the direction of your enemies and you’ll be fine.”
I opened my mouth to berate her for encouraging Rebecca to make enemies, then closed it. Besides, the way Rebecca’s face lit up was almost worth the last week of indignity.
Almost.
“How was it with Sammi?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “She apologised.”
“You might find you understand one another better now.” The whole thing might turn out to be a learning experience for all of them. Even if not, with the sceptre in her hand, her classmates would think twice before challenging her in future.
She nodded. “I guess. Thanks, Blair.”
Vanessa walked into the hallway, her eyes taking in the sceptre with evident disappointment. “So it did choose you. A child as Head Witch? How can this be?”
“Better than a murderer,” I said.
“The girl’s right, for once,” Aveline said. “The sceptre’s just a ceremonial piece. You won’t need to use it most of the time.”
“You used it to put your shoes on,” Vanessa pointed out. “And to clean the kitchen. And…”
“Yes, but I’m older,” said Aveline. “And more experienced. You would have been a terrible Head Witch.”
Vanessa dropped the suitcase she was holding. “Maybe I never wanted the title to begin with, mother. Perhaps I wanted it out of your hands so you couldn’t use your power to belittle me.”
“If you’re going to argue, don’t do it in our hallway,” Alissa called.
Sky chose that moment to wander out of my room and transform into a huge fuzzy monster. Vanessa took one look at him and stumbled backwards. Eyes wide, she grabbed the suitcase and hauled it out of the hall, fleeing the house with her mother yelling obscenities behind her.
When they turned back at the front gate to make sure Sky wasn’t following them, he resembled a cat again, sitting on the doorstep and licking a paw.
“You were saving that, weren’t you?” I whispered to him.
“Miaow.” He planted himself in front of the door as though daring either of them to come back in.
Fighting a grin, I turned to Rebecca. “You okay?”
“Sure.” She hesitated, then dropped her voice. “Blair, I’m told today is the last day. To contact the dead. I mean, if you wanted to speak to your mother…”
My heart dip-dived. “She’s not buried in the graveyard. I checked.”
“I know,” Rebecca said. “I—my mother mentioned a cottage in the woods. I think it’s where she lived.”
“In the woods?” I echoed. “Are you sure?”
Her shoulders hunched. “Yes. She said it’s near the elves’ territory, on the west side of the woods.”
My mother lived in the woods? It would explain why my dad had ended up on the elves’ territory when he’d been on the run, and why I’d never run into anyone who knew where Tanith Wildflower had spent her time when she’d lived here.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” she said quickly. “I didn’t know—I mean, we thought your mum was alive, and then she wasn’t, and—”
“No worries.” I put on a false smile, genuinely grateful. “I’d like to at least try.”
Yesterday, I’d seen fairies fly from some other world into this one. I’d seen spirits rise to speak to the living. While the number of ghostly encounters was rumoured to have slowed overnight, I wouldn’t get another chance.
Rebecca and I walked through the town in silence. Despite the sceptre’s size, she held it in a firm grip and kept her head high, no doubt as Madame Grey had instructed her to do. On my other side walked Sky, while Toast accompanied his witch, purring nonstop. He didn’t seem put off by the sceptre at all.
We passed the hospital on our way to the path leading into the forest. Briefly, I wondered if old Ava knew Tanith Wildflower’s address, too. If she did, it didn’t matter. I just hoped I hadn’t left it too late.
We meandered down the path into the woods, skirting the elves’ territory. No sound pursued us except the chatter of birdsong and our own footsteps. Sky was the first to turn off the path, jerking his tail towards a half-collapsed fence surrounded by trees.
On the other side of the fence sat a small cottage. The garden was overgrown and unkempt, while the cottage itself had fallen into disrepair. The windows were matted in cobwebs, several roof tiles were missing, and the door rotted in its frame.
Sky meowed and brushed against my ankles in a show of support. I stroked him behind the ears and opened the creaky old gate into the garden. Rebecca followed, looking around nervously.
My mother must have liked growing herbs, by the look of the overgrown garden. Fragrant smells surrounded the house, making my nose itch. I peered through the windows, but the house was as abandoned as it looked. Silence hung over it, as thick as the scent of herbs.
“Where do you want me to do the spell?” Rebecca whispered.
“Here in the garden will do.” I halted in the middle of an unkempt patch of grass. My pulse fluttered as I knelt down and laid out the herbs in the same pattern as I had when I’d summoned Shannon’s ghost.
Rebecca held out the scep
tre over the herbs and muttered under her breath.
Then I whispered, “I want to speak to Tanith Wildflower.”
A thin layer of fog sprang up at my words, flowing from the sceptre until it solidified into a human-like figure. Rebecca let out a soft exclamation.
As for me… I froze. The person standing before me looked almost solid. Medium height, long curly dark hair, pale skin.
She looked like me. Tears sprang to my eyes and flowed over.
“Oh, Briar, don’t cry,” she whispered.
“It’s Blair,” I mumbled. “Briar… is that the name you gave me?”
Old Ava had called me Briar, on more than one occasion. Briar Wildflower. Would that have been my name?
My mother floated down, her feet touching the ground as though she was alive, not separated from me by the barrier between the dead and the living.
“I did,” she said. “I knew they wouldn’t keep the name when I gave you away. It tore me apart, but your father and I had no choice in the matter. Have you… have you had a good life, at least?”
Where to start? I’d lived with three different foster families before I was three. Mr and Mrs Wilkes, meanwhile, were as oblivious to my magical state as it was possible to be. And yet I’d still found my way into the magical world. I wasn’t the same person who’d obliviously wandered into Fairy Falls.
“Yeah.” I blinked hard, several times. “I have. And they called me Blair. My foster parents, I mean. They’re great, but they’re not… paranormal. Why did you leave me outside the magical world?”
You were never meant to be part of this world, Mr Harker had said. And he hadn’t lied. That’s what he’d believed, but despite knowing he was trying to hurt me, his words had wormed their way into my head.
My breath caught as my mother’s ghost moved closer, close enough for her finger to brush against my chin. “I wish I could have had you raised in the magical world, but Fairy Falls is built on secrets. I feared for you, especially given… your father.”