Aconite and Accusations
Page 20
“Why are you telling me all of this?” I felt like I was balancing on a knife-edge, about to take a dive into a pool of violence. Why wasn’t Aleister trying to curse me into oblivion and force me to hand over the weapon? His hired muscle had been only too willing to go to those lengths.
“Because I thought you might share my opinion that this weapon could be your greatest chance against the coming doom. You might even save the town, who knows?” Aleister shrugged his shoulders.
“You’ve never seemed bothered by the plight of Wormwood up until now. You weren’t really going to stick around and help us fight the monsters once I’d handed over my father’s invention, were you?” I folded my arms.
Aleister raised his hands. “Look, I see no reason why we can’t have a good go at these monsters and do the right thing by the magical and non-magical community of this town. No one needs to die.”
“Or we could just blast the mayor,” Sean muttered.
I raised my eyebrows as I considered it. Aleister Root had already pointed out the benefits of technology mixed with magic. Perhaps it might get around the invincibility thing.
“It’s better that he is left to do what he desires,” the Council leader said, tugging his collar and looking nervous. “We at the Council have already tried our own methods to probe for weaknesses. Don’t think we’re not aware that what’s happening here has implications beyond the town’s boundary! I don’t believe that he could be stopped by any weapon in this world. It is better to cooperate.”
“Roll over and let him rule the world, you mean. No thanks,” I muttered.
“Look, I’m offering a compromise. I think we all know it’s inevitable that some tough times are ahead of us. It’s our duty to protect the magical community. Your father’s invention can do that. It can save witches and magicians everywhere.”
“And what about the rest of the world?” I countered, thinking it probably wasn’t going to go so well for them.
“They’ll have to take their chances. Be reasonable, Hazel. You can’t save everyone, and you can’t save this town. I think you know that. I’ve heard the prophecy.” He sounded grave.
“Is it hot gossip now?”
Aleister’s eyes clouded for a moment. “The Council is well connected. We hear things. We know people… and not people.”
I got the message. He talked to deities. I was betting he only chatted to the holier-than-thou annoying ones who’d got us into this mess in the first place by manipulating a devil deal to fit their own ridiculous prophecy.
“So… do we have a deal? Blast some monsters, do the honourable thing, and then leave this town to the dogs. The Council will be able to defend itself and, who knows? Perhaps in time we can manufacture enough replicas to be able to tear up the prophecy and put things back to rights. At the very least, we’ll always be well-defended,” Aleister said, continuing to sound oh so casual about all of this.
“If this thing really does what you claim it can do, an army with those in their hands… nothing could stand against that. No one should have that kind of power!” Sean countered, voicing my own thoughts.
“That’s exactly what James thought, and everyone with any sense in the magical community agreed with him,” Minerva said, walking back through the open shop door carrying a pint of milk. “It’s nice of you to personally come and steal from us instead of sending your inept lackeys to do your dirty work. You haven’t changed a bit, Aleister.”
“I wish I could say the same for you, Minerva, but there are definitely cracks appearing in your veneer. How is it you stay so young, by the way? I’m sure the Witch Council would love to know,” Aleister Root replied.
“Face cream and a taste for vengeance,” Linda replied for her, stepping past with another pint of milk and looking like she was considering tossing the contents over the Council leader. “You’re not getting anything from us. Go slime your way somewhere else. Or better yet, come back after tonight and pick your way through the rubble like the vulture you are. Hopefully, you’ll meet your match against an even bigger scavenger than yourself.”
“Well said,” Minerva told her younger sister.
Aleister looked grave. “I see that logic has no place here. I am sorry that’s the case.”
“Logic? You came in here pretending to be her father,” Sean said, gesturing to the cloak on the floor.
“You used the infiltration cloak to try to trick Hazel?” Minerva said, looking outraged. “It was given to the Witch Council to be used only in the most dire situations, when magic was in danger of being exposed, or when there was a non-magical disaster that a magical infiltrator could solve - if they could get in through security undetected.”
“It’s almost as if you can imagine how someone might misuse all of these inventions in terrible ways…” Linda said, frosting her voice with sarcasm.
“It is why we turned him into slime,” Minerva agreed.
“We should have done worse than slime. He was willing to have you killed to get his hands on James’ invention. Why should we behave any differently? I know it’s not saving the town, but at least it would mean I can die knowing he got what was coming to him,” Linda said.
“No,” I said, stepping forwards to stop my aunts from lashing out at the man who had done so much wrong. “You are not making yourselves enemies of the Witch Council again.”
“That’s a very sensible decision, Hazel,” Aleister said, doing his best to squirm out of a situation he’d never wanted to find himself in - especially not outnumbered. “I can see a sparkling career for you in the Witch Council. There are many opportunities for a young witch like yourself. Who knows? One day you may even find yourself standing in my shoes. Your donation of your father’s last work to the Council will be remembered and appreciated by magical generations to come, I’m sure of it.”
I stood up a little taller and stepped towards him. “I’m not giving you anything, and I’m never joining a Witch Council that has you in it.” My lips curved upwards. “I think there’ll be a job vacancy opening up sooner than you think… I just don’t want my aunts to have to go on the run again.” I looked down to the left of my unwanted visitor.
“Does he look like a double-crossing deal-breaker to you?” I asked the hellhound who stood there salivating at the prospect of a new quarry. He let out a low growl which made Aleister jump a metre to the right.
“I heard rumours that…” he started to say, but I cut him off.
“Hearing rumours isn’t the same as hearing it yourself,” I said as Erebus made an even louder rumble in his throat.
“This is madness. I’m the leader of the Witch Council. You have no right to do this! You shouldn’t even have this… thing. Witches can’t have hellhounds. You’re an abomination.”
I smiled. He’d suddenly changed his tune to something that sounded a lot more genuine. “You’re right. I’m not a normal witch. I’ve got a lot of devil running through my veins. Enough to land me a hellhound. And you, Mr Root… went back on the deal you made with me. Do you remember? You said that we would agree to no longer plot against one another. I’ve not done any plotting against the Council, but you haven’t held up your side of the bargain.”
His eyes bulged when he finally realised what I was saying.
“Run,” I advised him.
Aleister Root didn’t need telling twice.
He stumbled and spun, as if already dodging the patiently waiting hellhound who watched him curiously. He found the door and turned sharply to the left.
“Ooph!” he said when he ran into a man walking the other way. “Out of my way, idiot!” he spat, before giving his unsuspecting obstacle a shove - hard enough to push him into the window and crack the glass.
“Oh, go on… send Erebus after him,” Linda said, visibly furious.
I was genuinely considering it when there was a small ‘pop’ noise and Aleister Root vanished.
“Did he… teleport?” I suggested, baffled by what had just happened.
The innocent bystander rubbed his back and bent down to collect whatever he must have dropped in the collision.
“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing outside to check on him now that the Council leader had so mysteriously vanished. I could stop pretending to be as ruthless as my adversary. Unfortunately, it had been necessary to get my point across. Men like Aleister Root only responded to their own methods.
“I’m fine,” the man replied. He was looking at something he held in his hand.
I looked down at the yellow rubber duck keyring he was examining. It was like something you won as a loser’s prize at the fair.
“Is it damaged?” I asked, fearing it meant something to him.
To my surprise, he chuckled. “Nope. Something this cheap and tacky is pretty darn hard to destroy. It’s like toxic waste. A fitting end for a man who matched that description perfectly, don’t you think?” He lifted his head for the first time and looked at me with an amused twinkle that I’d always imagined I’d see on a stranger’s face one day.
I opened my mouth to say something meaningful. Instead, a question came out. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to be the man I should have been for the last twenty-odd years. I’m here to be your father,” he told me, his eyes crinkling up. The man in front of me was a close match to the image Aleister had presented to me when he’d worn his misappropriated cloak. The difference was, this man was the real deal.
I was talking to my father.
18
The Fatal Fiesta
“I won’t say it isn’t good to see you, James, but now, of all times?” That was how Minerva had greeted my father when we’d gone back into the shop together. He’d replied that it was good to see her cheerful face too, and since then, my aunts and my father had slipped back into the easy relationship they must have had a very long time ago, before they’d plotted to turn the Witch Council into slime.
Everyone had agreed that the duck keyring was a convenient way to keep tabs on Aleister Root, but I’d reminded my father that his slime spell hadn’t held him forever the last time. He’d explained that it had never been his intention to keep the Council that way. He’d hoped to come up with something that would render his initial invention moot during the time the Witch Council was out of the way. He’d wanted something that could destroy his weapon with ease, so even if someone tried to force him to manufacture copies, they could be made useless immediately.
Unfortunately, he’d failed, and Constantine had betrayed everyone who’d helped with the magic needed to make the slime technology work when he’d released the Witch Council. The rubber duck transformer was, in my father’s words, ‘a convenient, hand-held advancement of the original slime technology’. He’d showed me what it was that he’d used on Aleister Root.
It looked like a cheap water-pistol that sprayed a clear liquid.
“Don’t go firing that at any old thing,” he’d warned me good-naturedly.
“It’s not me you need to worry about,” I’d told him, before looking around to see where Hemlock was hiding. The idea of a cat with opposable thumbs armed with a rubber-duck-making water-pistol was not a problem I wanted to add to my growing list.
Jesse had turned up after the action had finished. We’d all endured an awkward reunion between devil and deal maker. In the end, I’d forced them to shake hands and forget the past. I’d forgiven Jesse, so my father could, too.
The rest of the day had strangely been spent catching up on the lives we’d missed. Everyone knew what was coming to the town tonight, but no one wanted to talk about it. In truth, there was nothing to talk about that didn’t mean going around in circles. No great plans could be hatched, and no one was under any illusion that a manic research session would shine a great light on the murky future of Wormwood. Instead, we focused on family, friendship, and building bridges that had never had a chance to be constructed before today.
Even whilst we enjoyed each others’ company, I knew I wasn’t alone in noticing the rising number of people walking past the shop. I’d seen the tourists who’d been in town all week go by, but they were far outnumbered by the new groups - presumably shipped in by the busload specially for the festival. Little did they know, they were lambs to the mayor’s slaughter.
I’d caught myself clenching my fists a few times, but no amount of screaming at these people would convince them to turn away now. They’d come to experience the weird town of Wormwood and its Midsummer’s Eve Festival. I didn’t want to become an extra sideshow to the mayor’s big event. Instead, we pretended they weren’t even there. But the people kept coming. I knew that even as we talked, the mayor’s power grew. Each person contributed their magical power or their life-force to the town, making it thrive.
“It was a bad deal, wasn’t it?” Jesse said when the daylight finally began to fade.
For once, I didn’t berate him for making a bad decision. If I’d learned anything in these past few days, it was that bad decisions happened to everyone. And once they were made, it was pointless to dwell in regret, or remind others of their failings. All you could do was try to figure out a way to unravel the knots you had tied yourself into.
Somewhere in the distant square came the sound of a PA system being tested.
It was nearly time for the main event.
We all jumped when the bell on the shop door clanged. The sign had been flipped to closed all day and Aleister Root had broken the lock with his cack-handed spell, trying to pretend he was using my father’s technology.
“Who is it?” I called, walking out from where we’d finally settled in the lounge, when it had been too difficult to watch the many people filing into the town.
“So sorry to interrupt your… whatever the heck this is…” a sneering voice said, “but would I be right in thinking that the festival is still on… so we’re still going to die?”
I ended my eye contact with Sean and turned to see Natalia Ghoul lounging in the doorway. She wasn’t alone. Gathered behind her, in the most nervous looking posse I’d ever seen, was the rest of the Wormwood Coven… or at least, what remained of it. Once again, our ranks had been diminished in the most tragic of ways.
“It doesn’t look particularly promising,” I said, understating it. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you sooner. It would be a good idea to leave town now, while leaving is still an option. With enough focus on getting out of here and to safety, you should be able to get beyond the boundary. I’d go through the forest, if I were you. Leave before the gate opens. I think once that’s happened, the barrier will be fixed in place.” At least, I hope it is, I silently added, not wanting to think what might happen if the monsters could roam anywhere they pleased.
“Urgh. I knew we couldn’t rely on you,” Natalia said, looking disgusted. “Let’s have a vote, right here and now. Who thinks Hazel should admit she’s the worst high priestess ever and hand over the coven to me. Say I!” She held up her hand and a couple of ayes were called out.
“All against,” Heather jovially said.
A strong chorus of ayes rang around.
I smiled at those who’d supported me, even when we were here at the bitter end. “Thank you for your loyalty. Time is of the essence. Get yourselves and anyone else you can persuade to go with you and get out of Wormwood. It’s the only chance you’ll have.”
“What will you do?” Tara asked in a quiet voice. The young witch usually didn’t speak up at coven meetings, so it was a surprise to hear her.
“I’m staying to do whatever I can to try and stop this… even if it’s an impossible task.”
“Then I’m staying, too.”
Mumbles spread around the group, before others chimed in with their agreement.
“You’re all crazy,” Natalia said, shaking her head. “Come on, Victoria and Aurelia, we are not going down with
this sinking ship. Remember that bonus we’re owed by the Witch Council for reporting on Hazel’s suspected criminal activity? It should be enough to set us up somewhere new. Bye, losers,” Natalia said with a smirk so wide it looked painful.
I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of someone squeaking a tiny rubber duck.
Natalia frowned at my father, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Stop staring, creep,” she said, before whipping her hair around and stalking off with her cronies in tow.
“I move to suggest that for showing no loyalty towards their town and their coven we excommunicate Victoria Aven, Aurelia Ghoul, and Natalia Ghoul from the Wormwood Coven,” Heather announced.
The loudest chorus of ayes yet rang out.
“Motion carried,” she said with grim satisfaction.
I smiled when my father came and stood next to me, still holding the keyring.
“She’s going to get quite the surprise when she arrives at Council HQ,” he said.
I grinned. “It’s just the reward she deserves… at long last,” I added. Natalia Ghoul had been pushing people around and profiting from their weakness for far too long. A taste of her own treacherous medicine when Aleister Root and his reward failed to materialise was long overdue.
“So, Hazel… what are we going to do?” Heather asked.
I suddenly discovered that I had several pairs of eyes looking my way.
I bit my tongue before I spoke, not wanting to offer false hope, but not wanting to take all hope away. “We go to the Midsummer’s Eve Festival, and when the gate opens and all hell breaks loose, you try to save everyone, whilst I hold off the things that come through the gate for as long as I can.”