Witch Oracle in Westerham

by Dionne Lister

  I turned the handle and opened the door.

  It was even darker in here than the hallway. There were two windows on a wall to my left, both covered by thick blinds. The little light seeping in made shadowed shapes of the furniture and boxes. It looked to be a large, old office-cum-storage room.

  Goosebumps peppered my arms. He was in here. So close. Against every survival instinct, I stepped all the way in and shut the door—I didn’t want him running again. Time was as much my enemy as Owen.

  Should I just call out and tell him to show himself? If he could feel me through the net like I could feel him, he’d know I knew he was here. But if he didn’t realise I could sense him, it would give me an advantage. But then, searching for him would waste time.

  A throb started in my temple, and it was as if someone were pushing me away. It was the slightest sensation. Was that Owen feeling for a way out of my net? Another dizzy spell hit, and I swayed. It took everything I had not to drop to the floor.

  Decision made.

  I forced as much strength as I could into my voice—show no weakness, pretend I’m the most powerful witch who ever lived. Yeah, ha ha. Hopefully, he wouldn’t see through my ruse. “Owen, show yourself. I’m not leaving here without you.” Silence met my demand, my words falling dead around me. I moved further into the room and stopped to listen. “Your stupid magic is killing my friend. If she dies, you’ll be going to jail forever.” I decided not to mention the fact that he would anyway since his magic had killed a ton of other people. A man with nothing to lose would be even more dangerous. “So just stop wasting my time and show yourself. As I said: I’m not leaving here without you.”

  I took a few more steps and stopped. It was near impossible to tell if he lingered behind the boxes to my right, or under the desk in front of me. Or was he in that cupboard that sat against the far wall? I supposed I’d have to methodically check one after the other. But what was I going to do when I caught him? Jesus, Lily. I could’ve slapped myself for being so stupid. Who comes this far without a plan? Me, apparently…. To be fair to myself, I’d thought Will and Imani would be taking him in.

  Right. Think. I had a spell that stopped Owen from leaving the premises, which meant I’d have to quickly drop that so I could take him through my doorway, and I’d have to do that by dragging him. If he struggled against me and accidentally touched my doorway, he’d potentially die or lose a limb, and then he wouldn’t be in any state to reverse the spell killing Liv. And if I dropped the spell without having control of him, he could just leave via his own doorway. Argh! Why did this have to be so difficult? Maybe I could just make an extra-big doorway around us? That might take too much power, but maybe it wouldn’t. I’d just have to try because I had nothing else. I ignored the universe when it prodded me with its bony finger of despair.

  My head jerked to the left. Had that been a rustle of fabric or a breath? As much as I wanted to head to the boxes to see, I was going to check under the desk first. If I headed to the boxes, I’d leave a clear pathway to the door from the desk. Not a wise move.

  I crept towards the table, ignoring the power buffeting my senses. Whatever was going on out there was some kind of epic battle. Not good. I stepped around the table, my heart thudding loudly. Damn. I leaned over carefully, quietly. Part of the underneath of the table was in my line of sight, but it was too dark under there to see anything. Crap. I supposed I could risk reaching out and feeling for him because there wasn’t a gap big enough for him to squeeze through—the front of the table facing the door had a panel that went almost to the floor.

  Holding my breath and straining both eyes and ears, I reached under the table. Cold air feathered my fingers. I silently, slowly breathed out in relief. I bent in further just to make sure, but, nope, he wasn’t under there. That left the boxes.

  I straightened. A wave of tiredness crashed over me, and I momentarily shut my eyes. Come on, Lily. You’re almost there. I opened my eyes and crept back around to the front of the desk. There was that prod against my power. It was as if someone was pushing against my brain or thoughts. Hard to describe, but I just knew it was Owen testing the net. As he did, vibrations of his magic skittered over my scalp. I shuddered. He may not be able to escape, but he could still cast a spell. My return-to-sender was up, but it was an effort to keep it there. Sweat tickled my forehead. What if he just punched me or used his magic to throw the table into me and knocked me out? Unconscious, all my spells would disappear. But was he strong enough? The spells he had out in the world killing and maiming must have been getting sustenance from somewhere. Either he was incredibly powerful, or he was close to burning himself out to keep it all going. Or had he managed to develop some kind of method where he tied off the source to the spells so they only tried two or three times to obtain the objective of making the person’s dreams come true? Kind of like three wishes from a genie. Even so, he’d be using a mass of power.

  I would only know the answer if he told me. Time to get this guy.

  As I noiselessly approached the pile of boxes, I delved into the river of power. Oh. There was a wide, fast-flowing rush of magic coming into me. Normally, it was much thinner, except when I was trying to kill Jeremy’s mother. I’d put everything I had into that and almost died as a consequence. I must have gotten stronger since then. Thank the universe for small favours. There was no way I would’ve been able to manage all these spells simultaneously if I hadn’t. But would one more spell tip me over the edge?

  I was about to find out.

  I reached the boxes and slid my phone out of my pocket. I’d need to see clearly to do this right. I flicked my phone to silent, unlocked it, and, as I stepped around the boxes, turned the torch function on.

  Yes! Owen was crouched against the wall, making him look small, pathetic. I shone my light into his eyes. “Coward. Narcissist pig.” Oh, okay, I hadn’t expected to say that, but my anger came rushing to the surface, way hotter than my magic. “Stand up. You’re coming with me to the PIB. You have to take back your spells.”

  He blinked up at me and shielded his eyes with his hand. He slowly stood, and I stepped back, his eyes gleaming with malice. He spat at me. My eyes widened. “Oh my God, you’re gross. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  He sneered. “You’re messing with the wrong witch. I’ve stepped over far better than you on my way to the top, and no snivelling Aussie convict is going to tell me what to do. I’m a god among men. I grant people their wildest desires, and some that aren’t so wild. They worship me. Do you know how hard I’ve worked to get here?” I opened my mouth to respond, but he kept talking. “I’ve sacrificed for this my entire life. I’m finally where I deserve to be, and I haven’t finished yet. No one, least of all you, is taking my magnificent future away from me.”

  Power pulsed from him. Sharpness, like the blade of a knife, sliced into my stomach. I doubled over and grunted. He’d tried to break through my net spell, and because he hadn’t thrown a spell at me, my return-to-sender was no protection. Jeez was his magic strong. He went to push past me. No way, mate. This Aussie convict wasn’t a quitter.

  I stuck my foot out. He caught it and went down. Take that, fraudster. My eyes were still watering from the magic sucker punch, but I didn’t care. I hobbled to where he was trying to stand, and he pushed me. I tripped backwards but managed to keep my feet. He stood and headed for the door. Not so fast.

  I sprinted, overtaking him, then turned at the last second and slammed my back against the door. “You’re not going anywhere but to help my friend.”

  He faced me, a look of disgust on his face. His calculating gaze figured I was just one small blip between him and the corridor to freedom. “Are you going to move, or am I going to have to lay hands on you? Don’t make me. It won’t be pretty.”

  I tilted my chin up. “Nothing about this is pretty, trust me. And you’re the least attractive thing about it. You’re the equivalent of someone who’s bought their way into an art prize, or a sports person
who’s a drug cheat. You’re just a dishonest loser. If it wasn’t for your magic, none of that stuff would come true, would it? You’re a fraud.” I angled my phone so the light shone in his eyes. Take that, craphead. He was still a little bit too far in front of me for what I was going to do. I had to get right next to him and quickly build the doorway. But he had other ideas.

  He lunged for me and slapped his hands on my shoulders while simultaneously assaulting the net. He threw me to the side, and shooting pain gored my middle as I landed on the floor. He reached for the door handle, then opened the door.

  Tears from the pain coursed down my face, but I wasn’t giving up. The net held, thank God. He took one step through the door. I gave it everything I had and lunged to grab his ankle. I wrapped my hands tightly around it and squeezed. I was going to be a leech to the death.

  He tried to shake me off. I mumbled my doorway spell, hoping I’d allowed enough room for his head—since I was on the ground, it was hard to tell how tall it should be—stuck the coordinates to the PIB on it, then dropped the net spell. The river of power turned into rapids as it gushed into me.

  Everything spun into black.

  * * *

  ***

  * * *

  There was a mad rushing in my ears and pressure on my throat. An alarm blared, but it sounded far away, maybe outside. I was tired, so tired. I forced my eyes open. Red-faced, Owen kneeled next to me, his enraged eyes boring into mine while he strangled me.

  I hooked my fingers under his hands, but there was no way they’d budge. Panic buzzed through the fog in my head. Air. I needed air.

  “I’m not letting you ruin everything, convict scum. I have a sold-out show tonight, and I’m going on.”

  What was it with the constant convict insults? I gasped out, “You have no imagination.” He contorted his face as he squeezed harder. If I could’ve told him what a loser he was, I would have, but even though my lips moved, my voice was throttled by his grip. Looks like they would be my last words. Ever.

  A slamming sound, far away. God, I needed a breath. I dug my nails into his skin. Magic, where was my magic? The edges of my vision darkened—such a cliché, but it was a thing. Who knew?

  Owen’s face disappeared… so did the pressure on my neck. “Lily, Lily!” I was jostled. Air gushed into my mouth, throat, then lungs. The encroaching blackness brightened. I sat up, coughing. After every cough, I sucked in sweet, sweet air, more delicious than a double-chocolate muffin. I’d never thought I’d see the day where I’d say anything was more delicious than that, but there you go—there really was a first time for everything. James crouched next to me, concern in his eyes, his hand on my back. “What year is it?”

  I croaked out a “huh?” I was so happy to see him, but why was he asking me this? “Owen. Where’s Owen?” My head jerked around. We were in the PIB reception room, and Owen wasn’t there. A zing of adrenaline shot through my stomach. “Oh my God, James. We have to find Owen. He was just here.” My voice was a lot quieter than I’d intended. Being choked really put a dampener on things. I tried to stand, but James put his hand on my shoulder and forced me to stay. “Stop, James! Liv’s dying. We have to find Owen.” I slapped his hand out of the way and tried to get up again, but my legs were too jelly, and I sat back down with a thud.

  “We’re on it. Angelica has him in custody—arrested just then in fact, mid strangling you. They’re taking him to the hospital to see Liv now.”

  Right, so I’d gotten as far as the PIB, but I must’ve used too much magic and blacked out, which meant we’d only just arrived. I sighed out my relief. I’d gotten him here in time. I looked up to the ceiling. Thank you, Universe, but you better make sure he saves Liv. I looked at my brother. “What if he refuses to save her?”

  “I don’t think that’s an option.” His mouth quirked up in a grim smile.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t wanna know.”

  Did that mean they would stoop to threats and torture? Somehow that didn’t bother me in the least. My eyes widened. “Oh my God! Will and Imani! They were battling it out with Owen’s henchmen. We have to help them. There were other agents there, but I have no idea what they were up to. They were there for the mindwiping later, but Imani was down, and Will was struggling.”

  “It’s okay. We’re onto that. About two minutes before you got here, one of them called in the magic use and gunshots.” James’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and stood. He made a few “I’m listening” noises. “Okay, thanks. Bye.” He turned to me. “Will and Imani are in with our healers. Let’s go see how they’re doing.” James bent, grabbed my hand, and helped me up.

  I took a second to steady my legs. Drained didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. “Did they catch Owen’s thugs?”

  “Will killed one with his gun, the other is in custody. So, tell me what happened.” As we ambled slowly to the medical rooms in the PIB—I couldn’t walk much faster than a shuffle—I gave James a rundown of what had happened. The whole time I talked, though, all I could do was worry. Were Imani and Will really going to be okay? Would Owen stop that spell from killing Liv, or would Ma’am’s plan—whatever it was—fail? It wasn’t as if she were a god. Maybe she threatened his life, but he was an arrogant bastard. Maybe he’d choose to die over admitting he’d cheated to make his predictions come true.

  We arrived at the infirmary. James pushed open the door and led the way in. Somehow I knew Will was okay. Our connection on the magical plane—the connection that meant we could talk mind to mind—meant I could feel if he was alive. I’d discovered that in the warehouse incident when the snake group kidnapped Will. If it wasn’t for that, I’d be a basket case about now. It was also a good sign that both he and Imani had made it this far. The witch healers were incredible and could work miracles. If they were here, it was likely they’d be fine.

  We walked through a sterile white room with a couple of waiting-room-type chairs, an empty hospital bed on wheels, and filing cabinets. The next room was where it was at, it being all the good stuff. Will and Imani both lay on hospital beds that sat against the far wall. They were awake and smiling. I ran to Will and threw my arms around him; professionalism could go to hell right now. He was warm, ruffled, but alive. I breathed him in and snuggled into his chest. My voice came out muffled. “I’m so glad you’re okay. What did those guys do to you?”

  He stroked my head. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. But what about you? You ran off after our friend. The only reason I didn’t go after you is, I could feel you were okay.”

  I released my grip on his warmness and straightened, looking across his bed to Imani, who was watching us with half-closed eyes. “You okay?”

  She nodded and gave a sleepy smile. “Yeah, but, boy, do I have a sore back.”

  The witch in a white lab coat with a stethoscope dangling around his neck said, “She’s one very lucky witch. She was almost a paraplegic. We could have cured it, of course, but even with magic, it’s never a perfect job, and she would have had months of rehab. Anyway, I’ll leave you to your reunion.” He left the room, which was good because even though he was an agent, maybe some of what we had to say was confidential.

  I scrunched my face and cringed. “The way you landed on that chairback, I’m not surprised. It was painful to watch.” I shook my head—she’d come close to losing her life, but she hadn’t, and now we only had one person to worry about.

  Will grabbed my hand. “So, what happened?”

  “Oh, um, I managed to find Owen hiding in an office. I brought him back here, but I’d used so much magic that I passed out. I came to while he was strangling me.”

  Imani gasped. “Oh my goodness, love. Are you okay?”

  I shrugged and rubbed my still-sore neck. “I’m standing here, so I guess so.” I smiled. “Ironic though—waking up while being strangled.”

  James scowled. “It’s not funny, Lily. If we hadn’t gotten to you when we did….”

 
“But you did, and I’m fine. Anyway, Ma’am’s taken him to Liv’s, to cure her.”

  “What if he refuses?” Imani asked.

  “That’s what I said.” My gut twisted. What if he wasn’t cooperating? She might already be dead. God, no. I looked at James. “Can we go see what’s happening?”

  He shook his head. “Just wait. Trust me.”

  I sat in a chair next to Will’s bed. He and Imani were still exhausted after being healed, so we decided to wait it out right there. No one said a word for fifteen minutes. Then James’s phone rang, and I started. We all stared at him as he answered. “Hello. Yes?” He nodded and bit his lip. “Mmhmm. Okay… yes, right. Bye.” Gah, his poker face gave nothing away.

  I leaned forward. “So? Spill.” He stared at me a beat too long. The silence turned into a solid mass that sucked all the oxygen out of the room. My nose tingled with the pressure of impending tears. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be telling me she didn’t make it.

  The outer door to the infirmary opened. Everyone stared at the door. A trolley nosed in, pushed by a droopy-shouldered, dark-under-eye-bagged Beren. On the bed, head propped up by pillows, was a wan but smiling Liv. My eyes widened. I jumped up. “Oh my God! You’re okay!”

  I ran to the trolley and practically threw myself onto the bed and gave her a hug. “You have no idea how worried we all were.” I leaned back to look at her. Her face was even more gaunt than this morning, and her curls were limp and half the volume of normal. But she was alive. Alive! “What about your parents? How did you escape the hospital without them having a heart attack?”

  Beren looked at me. “We had to mindwipe a lot of people and implant false memories. Ma’am is still there with the team. They’ll be there for another hour or so. We’ve given Liv’s parents the memory of me taking her to the hospital to see what was wrong. They’ll be expecting me to drive her back in an hour. But she’s cured.”