Slouch Witch

by Helen Harper

He was silent for several seconds. ‘Oh,’ he said finally. ‘I didn’t think of that. Maybe you can source it somewhere else.’

  ‘Have you any idea where?’

  ‘Um, no.’ He pondered this conundrum. ‘Ebay?’

  Pah. I cupped my hand over the receiver. ‘Have you heard of ossombe root?’ I asked Winter.

  There was a line forming between his eyebrows and his expression was tight. ‘No.’

  If even Winter hadn’t heard of it, then it was highly unlikely that such a rare ingredient would be easy to find. And I didn’t know any Mongolians. ‘Thanks,’ I said drily to Iqbal.

  ‘You’re welcome!’ he trilled. ‘So how does next weekend suit?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Karaoke, of course.’

  ‘The binding is still in place,’ I said. ‘And you don’t know where to get ossombe root from. Ergo, you’ve not fulfilled the terms of our agreement.’

  ‘Oh yes, I have. I’ve told you what you need to do to gain your freedom.’

  I shook my head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Ivy…’

  ‘You really should get back to that thesis. It won’t write itself, you know.’ I ended the call.

  Winter drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. ‘What was that about?’

  My phone rang again. Iqbal’s name appeared on the screen and I turned it off. ‘I asked someone to look into our binding,’ I said, trying to sound casual. ‘To see whether there was any way of breaking it before the hundred days were up.’

  ‘And?’ Winter asked stiffly.

  ‘Ossombe root.’

  His mouth tightened. ‘But you don’t know what ossombe root is or where to get it?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Winter commented. He didn’t look at me.

  ‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘It really is. We could be free of each other if only we could find some.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Winter put his foot down on the accelerator, narrowly beating the next red light. Neither of us said another word until we reached the library.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Winter cracked his fingers as we entered the library’s front doors. I guess he wanted to show that he really did mean business. He strode up to the front desk and barked at the man behind it. ‘This entire area needs to be closed off immediately. Make sure everyone leaves.’ He checked his watch. ‘You’ve got two minutes.’

  Just when I thought he’d been softening up. The man stared at him. ‘Adeptus Exemptus Winter,’ he began, his left eyebrow twitching furiously.

  ‘I’m sure we don’t need everyone to leave,’ I said helpfully. Winter glared at me. Somewhat belatedly, I realised I’d called his authority into question in public. Oops. I hastily backtracked. ‘What I mean is it would be fabulous if you could stay on this desk,’ I said, addressing the man. ‘You seem like an excellent gatekeeper and someone who can keep everyone away from the library for the time being.’

  The man’s chest puffed up slightly. ‘I could do that,’ he sniffed. ‘But what I can’t do is kick everyone out. There are a lot of people carrying out important research here. Unless there is a health and safety issue, I can’t simply order them off the premises.’

  Thinking about it, I suppose that it was vital to the Order – and by extension, Winter – that no one discovered the Cypher Manuscripts might have been compromised. There was the potential for mass panic if the news got out; even I felt shaken by the possibility and I didn’t care whether the Order lasted one more day or one more millennium.

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered to Winter. ‘Don’t forget I’m new to all this.’

  If my words appeased him, he didn’t show it. He crossed his arms. ‘Ninety seconds.’

  Flustered, the man picked up a phone. His fingers were trembling and he had trouble finding the right numbers. He appeared to be wilting under the pressure of Winter’s impatient glare and he was starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got a better idea.’ And it would mean a lot less hassle. I held out my right palm and, using my left, sketched the rune for fire. I knew how much fire was feared in the library; this would have them running for the hills before I could toast a marshmallow. I was becoming a dab hand at this rune. By the end of the week, the Scouts would be looking to hire me as their personal mascot – or better still, the fire brigade. I pictured myself on their annual calendar, surrounded by broad-chested firemen. Now there was an idea.

  A second after my tiny flame flared into life, a god-awful screeching filled the library. From all corners, red-robed witches came rushing forward looking like they were ready to do battle.

  I extinguished the flame. The siren, however, kept up its alert. ‘Evacuate the building!’ I shouted. ‘Fire!’

  ‘Ivy,’ Winter said over the racket, while rubbing his forehead as if he were in pain. ‘This isn’t an office block. In the event of fire, every witch in the vicinity is trained to come here to try and prevent the flames from spreading. You’ve just achieved the opposite of what we wanted.’

  Oh. Now that I thought about it, that made sense. I would run from fire; these idiots would run towards it.

  A witch standing nearby raised his palms. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be concentrating hard. ‘There’s the source of the fire,’ I heard him mutter. Before I could react, he drew the rune and drenched me from head to foot in ice-cold water. Oh bloody hell.

  Winter flicked his fingers, performing a rune so nimble and fleeting that I barely caught it. The front doors to the library sprang open, then his voice boomed out as if from a loudspeaker. Cool. ‘There is no fire but everyone must leave the building for safety purposes until we discover who set off the alarm.’

  The witch who’d just doused me in magical water frowned. ‘She started the fire. She set off the alarm.’ To emphasise his point, he sent out another ice-laden gush of water in my direction.

  She was soaking wet yet again and starting to get mightily pissed off. I shook off the worst of the water and hissed, ‘Plonker.’

  ‘Ivy,’ Winter warned. He took the watery witch by the elbow, drew him into a corner and murmured something in his ear. The witch paled, nodded, then immediately left the library like a good little boy.

  Through the window I saw a crowd of red-robed witches running towards the library from all directions. Winter’s reckless spell-casting witch began to yell at them, gesturing at them to go back. ‘It’s not fire!’ he shouted. ‘It’s a black cat!’ He paused a beat for dramatic effect. ‘And she has a litter of kittens!’

  I looked quizzically at Winter. He shrugged. ‘All those Order superstitions have got to be good for something. Until the Ipsissimus says otherwise, and until we know for sure that the Cypher Manuscripts have been taken, we need to keep this on a need-to-know basis.’

  I was impressed by Winter’s quick thinking. All around us the witches who had remained in the library decided they weren’t taking any chances. They streamed outside, willing to do anything to avoid a black cat – or indeed several of them – crossing their path. The Order normally went to great lengths to keep black cats away from their grounds. Despite my own superstitions, I felt a bit sorry for the cats; they couldn’t help their colour.

  ‘Adeptus Exemptus Winter is such a hero,’ I heard one of the departing witches murmur to a friend. ‘He’ll make sure the cat is kept away from us even if he has to risk his own safety.’

  ‘You know,’ I said to Winter, ‘people will avoid you for weeks after this in case they’re tainted by your potential bad luck.’

  ‘Then at least I’ll be able to do my job unimpeded,’ he growled. He glanced at me. ‘Doesn’t it bother you that you’ll be treated the same way?’

  I snorted. ‘Hardly.’ I shook myself, sending a spray of water in Winter’s direction. He stiffened fractionally but didn’t comment.

  ‘Do you think,’ I asked hopefully, ‘that I could go home and change first?’

  ‘Your wet condition is your
own fault, Ivy. Besides, those witches out there shouldn’t be kept away from the library any longer than is necessary. The Cypher Manuscripts might be untouched.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, knowing I sounded unconvinced. Perhaps these repeated soakings would give me a cold then I’d have an excuse to stay at home for a few days. Every cloud, etc.

  The last witch was Maidmont. He approached us, his brow furrowed. ‘There’s no cat, is there?’

  ‘No.’

  He looked momentarily relieved. That wouldn’t last. ‘So what is it?’

  Winter gave him a hard look. ‘If I tell you,’ he said, ‘you are under oath to keep it quiet until further notice.’

  Maidmont nodded vigorously. ‘Is it asbestos?’

  ‘We think the Cypher Manuscripts might have been stolen,’ Winter said, without any preamble.

  The words didn’t seem to register immediately. Maidmont gazed at us both blankly. ‘Wh – what?’

  ‘The only reason that we can think of for the sceptre’s theft, other than trying to assassinate my good friend Winter here, was to cover up another more serious crime,’ I offered helpfully.

  Maidmont blinked rapidly. ‘But the Cyphers?’ He wrung his hands. ‘That’s impossible.’

  ‘When you reset the wards yesterday,’ Winter asked, ‘did that include the ones around the Cyphers?’

  The poor librarian scratched his head. ‘Um, yes. We did all of them.’ Panic appeared on his face. ‘Did we do wrong? Oh God, this is all my fault. The Cyphers…’

  ‘We don’t know they’ve been taken yet. Let’s confirm that first of all.’

  Maidmont licked his lips. ‘Yes, yes. Good idea. Let’s do that.’ He didn’t move a muscle.

  Winter tapped his foot. ‘Let’s go then.’ His mouth flattened. ‘The more trustworthy witnesses we have while we check, the better.’

  He had a point. Given my reputation within the Order, I wouldn’t be surprised if the coincidence of my return and the Manuscripts’ disappearance would end up being linked. I’d go down in history as the most infamous, evil witch that ever dared to walk the earth. Not to mention that I’d be locked up for the rest of my natural life.

  The three of us headed up to the third floor. Part of me hoped that Winter and I had got it wrong and someone merely wanted to send us to cold, desolate graves. Right now, that was more comforting than the thought that someone had stolen the Cypher Manuscripts and all the power they contained within their ancient scrolls. If they had, the amount of work Winter and I would have to do would be never-ending.

  Winter had permission to enter the warded room where the Cyphers were kept but I had to wait outside until Maidmont released the ward. Rather than make him go to all that trouble, I stepped out of the way; I could watch from the doorway. At least then there would be no chance that my fingerprints would compromise the scene.

  Winter opened the door and he and Maidmont strode inside. My eyes searched beyond them. There were a lot of oak shelves; even from here, I could see that several of them still contained Cypher documents. I let out a sigh of relief.

  ‘It’s alright! They’re still here.’ I wiped my brow. It was difficult to tell whether the dampness was sweat or drips from the water spell. Either way, the world wasn’t about to end.

  Winter slowly examined the shelves. Although he was still frowning, I sensed he felt the same relief. We’d been jumping at shadows. As soon as I thought that, however, Maidmont let out a small cry. ‘Volume 9,’ he gasped. ‘It’s not here.’

  Winter leapt towards him. ‘Show me.’

  The librarian pointed shakily. With both their bodies blocking the view, I couldn’t see anything but it didn’t matter; there was no doubt that the librarian would know whether it really had gone missing or not.

  ‘Could it have been checked out?’ Winter demanded.

  Maidmont stuttered, ‘N–no. No one apart from the Ipsissimus himself is allowed to remove the Manuscripts and he’s not been in here for several months.’

  ‘Double-check the room,’ Winter growled. ‘Maybe it’s just been returned to the wrong shelf. Ivy, get in here and look around too.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I said unhelpfully. ‘The ward won’t let me.’

  Winter flicked his fingers at me with another lightning-quick rune. The slight pressure that had been holding me back immediately vanished. I wrinkled my nose and inched forward. The less involved I was with all this, the better. I really didn’t want to go inside.

  ‘It’s not here,’ Maidmont whispered. ‘It’s definitely not here.’

  I released a breath. ‘I don’t suppose you know what Volume 9 contains?’

  A deeply troubled voice sounded behind me. The Ipsissimus. ‘Authority,’ he said. ‘Volume 9 includes all the spells for increasing power and authority over others.’

  I bit my lip and turned towards him. ‘Well, things could be worse, right?’

  His pale eyes looked at me. ‘If you’d be happy to live in a magical dictatorship, where the leader goes permanently unchallenged and can do whatever he or she wants to, including torture, death and corruption of the highest order, then yes, Ms Wilde, things could be worse.’

  Ah. Well, when he put it like that…

  Chapter Fifteen

  The four of us regrouped in the Ipsissimus’s study. ‘It was wise to keep this matter to ourselves,’ the Order Head said to Winter. ‘We will have to allow the witches to return to the library or it will raise suspicion. Let’s make sure that the Cypher room is sealed off from everyone.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Winter said. ‘Until we know who is responsible for the disappearance of Volume 9, we have to assume everyone is a suspect.’

  The Ipsissimus rubbed his chin. ‘Indeed. This is worrying. Most worrying.’

  ‘Why would those kind of spells exist?’ I asked. ‘And why would they be written down where anyone can access them?’

  ‘We don’t generally believe that our witches have the desire to rule the world, Ms Wilde,’ he answered. ‘And witches who have access to any of the Manuscripts are carefully monitored. We can’t go around destroying ancient artefacts because we don’t like what they contain. One cannot unknow what is already known. Once the atom was split, it could not be undone.’

  ‘Nobody goes around teaching nuclear physics to children though, do they? It’s bullshit. The Cyphers could have been locked away in a sealed room. People would forget about them.’

  ‘We live in the free world, Ms Wilde. We are not in the business of concealing knowledge. Besides, that volume contains information that is still used today.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘The less powerful spells include details on subjects such as how to gain the attention of a room,’ Maidmont interjected. ‘They can imbue the caster with confidence. There are also a few spells for dealing with bullish familiars who are unwilling to do as they’re ordered.’

  I imagined how Brutus would react if I tried to put a spell like that on him. There would be feline carnage and my corpse would be left undetected in my flat for months.

  The Ipsissimus drew back his shoulders and stared at Maidmont. ‘Have you read it?’ he enquired icily.

  ‘Oh no,’ the librarian denied, suddenly alarmed. ‘I wouldn’t. I’m simply well versed in the catalogue. Besides, my skills aren’t high enough for the spells to have any effect.’

  Winter sighed. ‘And therein lies the rub.’ I looked at him questioningly. ‘Only high Level witches can absorb the magic and cast the spells from the more complicated Cypher pages,’ he explained. ‘If a less able witch tries them, they’re liable to destroy themselves in the process.’

  ‘And,’ the Ipsissimus added, ‘just in case you think that we give anyone access to the Manuscripts and the opportunity to abuse their power, all Order witches are only allowed to view the Manuscripts for short periods of time. It would take days to fully understand and utilise the higher Level magic.’

  ‘Which is why,’ I pointed out, ‘they were probably stolen in the
first place. So the thief could study them at leisure and implement the spells without fear of being stopped before they finished.’

  Everyone fell silent as we absorbed this. Frankly, it was all becoming a little too worrisome for me. ‘Ipsissimus,’ I began, ‘do you happen to have any ossombe root?’

  Winter stiffened. The Ipsissimus frowned. ‘It’s not an ingredient I’m familiar with,’ he admitted. ‘Why? Will it stop our would-be megalomaniac?’

  ‘No,’ I said cheerfully. ‘But it’ll enable me to get as far away from here as possible.’

  If anything, he was now even more confused.

  ‘That’s enough, Ms Wilde,’ Winter barked.

  So we were back to Ms Wilde again? Before I could say anything, the Ipsissimus regained control. ‘I hope, Adeptus Winter,’ he said, ‘that you have a plan for tracking down this witch, whoever he or she may be.’

  ‘Assuming there’s only one,’ Winter growled. ‘I have a few ideas.’

  ‘You have carte blanche but time is of the essence. It’s imperative that you find them before they can absorb all of the magic they are after. If that happens, we will be helpless.’

  I met Winter’s eyes. It was obvious where to begin; we both knew that Diall was mixed up in this somehow. We could probably have him under lock and key in the next hour – if eager Mr Smythe hadn’t already brought him in. It was possible – just – that this entire catastrophe could be solved by teatime.

  There was a knock on the door. ‘I said I wasn’t to be disturbed!’ the Ipsissimus roared. I jumped. Had he partaken of a little of Volume 9’s magic himself?

  A woman put her head round the door. ‘I apologise, Ipsissimus,’ she said. She didn’t look in the slightest bit sorry. I already liked her. ‘But there’s a witch here to see Adeptus Exemptus Winter. A Practicus Smythe. He says it’s an emergency and he won’t take no for an answer.’

  Winter’s face shuttered. The Ipsissimus frowned and gestured to the woman to let him in. A moment later, a bespectacled witch shuffled in. He was wearing a red robe and looked as skinny and pale as most Order witches. There was also a distinct aura of panic about him. I examined him more closely. There were a few odd stains around the cuffs of his robe. It was difficult to tell for sure given the robe’s colour but I had a horrible feeling I knew what they were.