by TJ Green
Avery was so flabbergasted that she couldn’t move, but Caspian was already thrusting her aside.
Sally, however, was quicker than both of them. She had been behind the counter, as surprised as everyone else, but that quickly turned to fury. Her hands on her hips, she stood in front of Rupert and yelled, “Shut your mouth, you vicious little man, and get out of this shop!”
Rupert leaned over her. “You’re just as bad. You’re in league with the witch!” He glanced around, sneering, and then seeing Avery said in a low, threatening tone, “And there she is!”
Sally didn’t stop, her anger blistering. “Don’t you dare look away from me when I’m talking to you,” she said, drawing his attention again. “You are a madman! And besides,” she drew herself upright, refusing to back down, “what is wrong with being a witch? Witches are good people who protect their communities. What do you do? Nothing, except be a pretentious prick who seems to have appointed himself as a witch hunter, deluded with jealousy and fear! I won’t have it!” She pointed at the door. “Get out now!”
“I have work to do first,” he said, planting his feet firmly. “I will see this place shut down.”
“And I will have you arrested! Get out!”
By now Dan had moved to one side of Rupert in an effort to usher him out of the door, and a few other customers had clustered around in support, eyeing Rupert with distaste, but he still wasn’t budging. It was clear he’d lost all reason. His eyes were wild, spittle flecked his chin, and his hands were clenched into fists. Avery desperately wanted to use magic to remove him, but had a horrible feeling it would backfire, and that her presence was inflaming things even further.
Caspian, however, moved swiftly to Sally’s side, addressing Rupert icily. “You have been asked to leave. I suggest you do it.”
“You will have to make me,” he said squaring up to Caspian.
Before Caspian could respond, Sally grabbed a besom broom from a display they kept next to one of the shelves. “I’ll make you!” She whacked him with the broom. “Get out of our shop! I will sweep you out like the rubbish you are!”
Rupert stumbled but shook Dan off, and Sally was about to whack him again when Helena manifested in the shop, smoke and flames billowing around her as she advanced on Rupert. He screamed and ran, and Sally chased after him, smacking him with the broom repeatedly as she yelled, “Scared of a little ghost? You chickenshit bastard!”
After a startled glance at Avery, Dan ran after Sally, as did Caspian, leaving Helena looking very pleased with herself. And then unexpectedly, rather than running, the customers applauded, and with a genteel smile, Helena’s smoke and flames disappeared and she drifted back to the bookshelves as if nothing untoward had happened at all.
Fortunately, as soon as Rupert exited the shop, a police car pulled up and two constables leapt out and stopped him as he was shoving Dan. A crowd had gathered on the street too, and within seconds the police had cuffed Rupert and pushed him into the back of the car as he shouted, “You are all cursed!”
“Are you all right, love?” a kind voice asked.
Avery looked around to see Mary, one of her older regulars, watching her. “I’m just a bit shocked at that outburst,” she admitted, feeling wobbly as she stopped leaning against the doorframe. And she was annoyed with herself. She’d frozen like an idiot, while Sally had been brilliant.
Mary tucked her hand under Avery’s elbow and guided her to a seat behind the counter. “I’ll make you a cup of tea. You need some sugar.” She thrust a pack of biscuits at her from the shelf at her back. “Eat these.”
The next few minutes passed in a blur as the regulars comforted her, others moaned bitterly about Rupert, lots were transfixed by Helena, and still others clustered at the window as the police continued to talk to Dan, Sally, Caspian, and another couple of regulars.
Mary pushed a few customers aside as she returned with tea, saying, “Leave her in peace! Can’t you see she’s in shock?” Then she winked at Avery. “Don’t worry, my love. With a bit of luck, they’ll ban his occult tours after this. Bloody madman. And trust me, no one will listen to that blithering windbag. Everyone loves your shop, and they love you. There’s nothing wrong with having a good, dependable witch in White Haven. Or even,” she winked, “the ghost of one, and a coven to boot.”
And with that enigmatic statement, she left Avery in peace.
Eleven
Alex kissed Avery’s cheek and passed her a healthy measure of red wine. “Here you go. I think you need that.”
She took it from him and had a large gulp before saying, “This has to be one of the worst weeks ever.”
He pulled his stool closer to hers and squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re a sensation. And I think you’ve just earned the title, ‘Most Haunted in White Haven.’”
They were seated around the table in the attic room where Avery retreated to after the shop had finally calmed down. Alex had left The Wayward Son early after Avery called him, fearful his own magic was starting to show. He was pretty sure he hadn’t achieved the Godlike appearance of Zee and the other Nephilim, but didn’t want to wait around in case he did. Besides, Avery sounded shaken, and he wanted to be with her.
“This isn’t funny, Alex,” she remonstrated, the pallor of her face accentuating her freckles. “Rupert was horrible!”
“He has shown his true colours, and lots of people saw him. That’s a good thing. I doubt we’ll ever see him again.”
She snorted. “Oh yes, we will. He’ll have to make amends if he wants his business to continue. But the thing is, if he truly loves the occult, why freak out about it? It doesn’t make sense. He bought the House of Spirits because of its association with séances.”
“I think it’s less about the occult, and more about you. You clearly annoy him, and in this weird, truth-state I think it all got mixed up in his mind. Besides, it sounds like he was ranting like a madman.”
She started to smile. “Sally was amazing! She chased him out of the shop with a witch’s broom! She called him a chickenshit bastard!”
Alex roared with laughter. “I wish I’d have seen that.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if somebody filmed it.” And then Avery groaned again, planting her face on the table where her red hair tumbled like a wave. “Someone probably filmed Helena,” she said, her voice muffled.
Alex started to laugh again and found he couldn’t stop. “Ave, you have all the fun! I wish I’d have been there. It sounds hilarious. Well, apart from Rupert being a shit, of course.”
Avery sat up again, laughing despite herself. “Sally and Helena really turned it around. It was ugly to start with, but as soon as Sally rounded on him, everything changed. And that bloody broom.” She giggled. “Rupert screamed—actually screamed—when Helena appeared. Even louder than that poor woman the other day.”
“Did anyone else?”
“In all the kerfuffle, I’m not sure.” She shook her head and took another sip of wine. “Dan and Caspian were great too, and my regulars.”
“You have good friends. You can’t buy that.”
“You know, the other good thing that came out of today was Caspian. He supported Sally—backed her up. Sally actually thanked him later, and he apologised for kidnapping her, and for waiting so long to make it right.”
Alex inwardly groaned that Caspian would have been there at Avery’s hour of need, but he didn’t say anything. He’d looked after Avery, and if things had become violent, at least he and Dan would have sorted it out. “I’m just glad that you’re okay. However, this really does escalate things, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “We have to act tonight. I just wish I knew how.”
Alex pulled the grimoires towards him and turned the now familiar pages over, admiring their age and the wisdom captured within. “These spells aren’t going to be of any use, are they?”
“No. I was terrified to use any magic today, in case it was revealed. Caspian suggested a veiling s
pell, but that wouldn’t work on a spell designed to reveal truths.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” All day Alex had been thinking about his vision and how rich in detail it was. When he closed his eyes, the room was still there. “I hate to suggest this, because of the care taken over that spell and all they risked to do it, but we have to do the simplest thing possible. We steal the costumes and burn them.”
“Are you sure we can’t persuade Stan to stop this? Especially after Rupert’s outburst and last night’s fight?”
“El and Briar asked him on separate occasions today. He’s still stubbornly wedded to the idea and so, apparently, is the mayor. The stocks have gone, but he still thinks the court is a good idea. He’s planning for them all to be in the parade on Saturday.”
“But Rupert is in a police cell!”
“And his wife is at the station with him, from the rumours I’ve heard,” Alex said, remembering the chatter in the pub over lunch. “We could split up tonight and collect all the costumes. With luck, Stan’s and the mayor’s are in the council building, and Newton could probably get Rupert’s off him if he’s in the station overnight.”
“But we’d have to go to the homes of the others, break in, and get them. And that means Rupert’s house as well for Charlotte’s costume.”
“The problem is, our shadow spells may not work.”
Avery groaned. “That bloody truth spell.”
“But we still have magic,” he reminded her. “The spell doesn’t stop that. We’ll just have to be extra sneaky.” He walked to the window and looked outside. It was late afternoon and already getting dark. The streetlights were twinkling below, and the town looked even prettier than normal with its Yuletide finery. Fortunately, the chill wind didn’t stop people from doing their Christmas shopping, and despite the recent odd events, most residents were still full of festive cheer. “We’ll have to wait until late again, and then go. We can have a fire in the garden. What do you think?”
Avery nodded slowly. “I think it’s our only option. We should make a circle of protection around it, too. But what about finding the addresses of the other two who play the Grandmaster and the Royal Fool?”
Alex grinned. “That’s what Newton is for.”
Briar arrived at Avery and Alex’s place, dressed in dark clothing ready for their midnight raids, and found Newton already there, complaining bitterly.
“I cannot condone this!” he said, clutching his beer in front of the fire in the living room and staring at the other witches.
“Of course not,” Reuben said, grinning. “You are the po-po, after all. But have you at least got the addresses for us?”
Newton glared at him. “The po-po? I really don’t like that term.”
“But it’s harmless. And silly,” Reuben added, stretching out his long legs towards the fire with an easy nonchalance. “The addresses?”
“Yes, I have them! But I can’t go with you—obviously.”
“That’s okay,” Briar said as she nudged him out of the way of the fire so she could warm her hands. “You can wait here for us. Prepare the fire outside.”
“Which makes me a collaborator,” he pointed out, annoyed.
Avery offered him a bowl of crisps. “Would you rather us do nothing and have more mayhem descend upon White Haven?”
He grimaced as he took a handful. “No, of course not!”
“So what would your suggestion be?” Alex asked, amused.
“Not breaking and entering!”
El laughed. “It’s not our first choice either, but we can’t use a spell. This old truth spell has made that impossible. Unless, of course, you found out something during your research?”
Briar shook her head. “No. We spent hours on the Internet but found nothing that even hinted at odd jesters’ costumes and sinister happenings all those years ago.” But, she thought happily, at least she’d spent the time looking with Newton.
Newton fished inside his pocket and dug out a piece of paper. “All right. Here are the addresses.”
Reuben leapt off his chair with surprising speed and took it from him. “Yes! Ninja witch night is on!”
Briar took in his long, lean form dressed entirely in black and laughed. “You really do throw yourself into these activities, don’t you?”
He winked. “It brightens my dull life.”
“You are such an idiot,” she said affectionately. “Go on, then. Who’s got who?”
Before anyone else could speak, Alex said, “Can I suggest that Avery does not go to Rupert’s house? That could be disastrous.”
“Agreed,” El said, casting a concerned look at Avery. “I will. I’d love to hex him while I’m there, but I guess I shouldn’t risk it yet.”
“No hexing!” Newton said, scowling. “No damaging anything, either. This is just a retrieval! And by the way, I couldn’t get Rupert’s costume. They ended up releasing him with a warning.” He huffed. “He was close to getting a psych evaluation, but his wife managed to calm him down.”
“That’s fine,” El told him. “I can get both.”
“We can,” Reuben corrected her. “I’m not letting you go there alone.”
Alex nodded. “Agreed. He’s too unpredictable. I can go to the council building again, seeing as how I know exactly where I’m going. If they’re not there, I may have to go to their homes.”
“Good point,” Reuben said, checking the addresses. “We have everyone’s on the list, just in case. Which leaves Arthur Lloyd, the librarian Grandmaster, and Jessica Chadwick, the Royal Fool. They both live in White Haven.”
“Those will be for me, then,” Briar said, looking forward to seeing an end to this madness.
“No,” Avery protested, “I’ll do one of them. That way we all have one place each to visit and can be back here relatively quickly.” She rose to her feet and headed back to the kitchen. “I’ll start some mulled wine for when we get back. We can turn this into a celebration.”
“Excellent,” Reuben said, rubbing his hands together. “Charades while we wait?”
El opened the House of Spirits’ back door and slipped inside, Reuben on her heels, and he shut the door quietly behind them.
For a few moments they stood silently, listening to the house creak and settle around them, and then El risked whispering, “I think we’re fine. They’ve gone to bed.”
They had arrived after midnight and watched the house for the last hour, but it had remained in darkness with no signs of movement. They then decided to move the car to the lane behind the fields that backed the house, and approach from the rear. They had hoped that after Rupert’s eventful day he would be tired and sleep deeply.
Reuben edged past her. “Let me go first. I don’t trust this slippery bastard.”
He led them through the kitchen and down the hall, and El noticed how much different it looked to when they had last been there. It was now restored to its former glory, and even though El didn’t like Rupert, she had to admire the work they’d done. It was a beautiful house.
As agreed, they searched the ground floor first and then edged their way upstairs, grateful that they knew the layout. The secrets they had uncovered when investigating the vampires still seemed to swirl around them in this mysterious place that radiated with the occult. It was here that Madame Charron had carried out her séances, and beneath the house was where the vampire Lupescu had his lair—before they killed him. Perhaps living here with two spell-soaked costumes had played on Rupert’s mind more than they imagined. It would also make sense that he and Charlotte were fuelling each other’s madness.
Reuben pulled her into the large room at the back of the house on the first floor and pushed the door closed. The curtains were open, and he was just visible in the grey light. “The bloody costumes are going to be in their bedroom.”
“We always knew that would be likely,” El reminded him. “If they wake up, we’re just going to have to go with plan B.”
They had discussed their options and deci
ded that they would have to use magic if they were discovered—something big and overwhelming.
“But we have to get the costumes first!”
El rolled her eyes. “I know, dummy! Come on.”
They walked back into the hall, treading softly down the carpeted hallway, and investigating every room they passed. But the odd scent of the costumes was becoming stronger now, and it was clear that they were stored in the master bedroom at the rear corner of the house. As they crept closer, they saw that the door was slightly ajar, and Reuben pushed it open and edged inside.
The room was dark, and when their eyes adjusted, El saw it was as she remembered. It was a large space, and the bed was on the far side. Other dark shapes indicated the chest of drawers and wardrobes, and a small sofa was in the corner. She edged to the window and pulled the curtains back slightly, allowing grey light to filter in and show two figures asleep beneath the duvet.
El hated doing this. It was horrible to invade someone’s privacy, but it had to be done. The costumes must be destroyed. While Reuben watched the sleeping figures, El followed the scent to the pile of clothes on the sofa and sighed with relief. At least they weren’t in the wardrobe. The outfits were piled on top of each other in a heap; the tops, trousers, and ruffs all mixed in together. She draped them over her arm as quickly and quietly as she could, and just as she’d reached what she thought was the final item, saw the jesters’ horned hats on the floor. Damn it. They were covered in bells.
El crouched and lifted the first one, but it was impossible to move it silently, and the bells jingled. Reuben spun around and glared at her, his fingers to his lips, and she glared back.
Despite the fact that a spell was risky, she uttered one to muffle the noise, but that was a horrible mistake. Light bloomed from the end of her fingers and Rupert and Charlotte shuffled in the bed, prompting El to quickly stop it. Moving with what felt like glacial speed, El picked up the second hat, and this time the bells jingled loudly.