All the Pretty Witches

by Lauren Quick

  “You know me, all I ever want is more. More information, more facts, more details. You and I are a lot alike. We both live for the story. Mine just happen to be true and yours are fiction, but it’s really the same kind of magic.” Her eyes gleamed. The journalist had seen right through her. “I want to know what you’re up to. Who is this friend of yours and why are you so keen on helping her?”

  “She’s a witch I admire. She’s a world traveler whom I often use for research and I wanted to pay her back with a nice exposé on her time in Stargazer City.”

  “Why have I never heard of her?”

  “I don’t know. She’s private, mostly.”

  “Really? World travelers aren’t usually the private types. They like to get out and be seen.”

  “Crystal, tell me what you want. Spell it out for me.”

  “You’re a great storyteller. That’s how I know your fabulous friend is fiction. Now, I’ll run the story for you, but I want to know what you’re up to and it better be believable.”

  “I’m in deep,” Clover leaned in close over the table and whispered. “I’m doing some undercover work for a new story I’m writing. I’m working on a nonfiction piece and I’m trying to lure someone out of hiding.”

  Crystal narrowed her gaze, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Really. I’m a little surprised. Is this person dangerous?”

  “No. At least I don’t think so. I can give you details later and you can write a behind-the-scenes piece about me and my methods, if my plan works.”

  Crystal gulped her tea. “Sounds interesting and it’s been brutally slow in the news department lately, so okay. I’ll help you. But I’ll keep you to your word, and if your story doesn’t pan out, you’ll have to give me an update to the family story series I ran.”

  “Of course.” Clover slid the parchment across the table for Crystal.

  She opened it and read the title aloud, “Crown Jewels. The Duchess of East Hazelton Comes to Stargazer City.” She smirked. “You’re good, Clover. Really imaginative.” She scanned the short article and tucked it into her bag when she was done. Crystal stared curiously at Clover. “I can get this to print today in the afternoon edition.”

  “That’s fast,” Clover said with a surprised lilt in her voice.

  “You came to the right witch. You’d be surprised at what I can accomplish.”

  “Thanks, Crystal. I owe you.”

  “I can’t wait to hear what pans out. I’ll definitely be in touch to collect my due reward,” she said and slinked away.

  A thrill washed over Clover. With the story cued to run, she had to hurry back to the hotel and meet Derek. Tonight was going to be a busy night, one where she hopefully caught a thief.

  17

  It was one of the worst days of Honora’s life. The interrogation room was stark and cold, filling her with dread of what was to come. Sitting across the table, Detective Corder read the charge against her from a roll of parchment—performance of black magic for the coercion, intimidation, and harm of another witch. It was like she was hearing about someone else, an alternate evil version of herself. If she accepted the charge and the sentence of twenty-five years in the Banishment, she would be transferred to the prison today.

  Her assigned lawyer, a wheezy wizard in a cheap suit, sat next to her. He advised her to take the deal and be grateful for it. His beady eyes narrowed; his mouth puckered. She disgusted him. The charges were despicable.

  Corder handed her a quill with a huge black plume. The quill thrummed with magic, recording her signature for eternity. A queasy wave washed over her. A stale biscuit and a weak cup of tea sloshed around in her stomach. Her hand trembled as she clutched the quill and the sharp inky tip hovered over the parchment. This was really happening. Honora needed to get a grip. If anyone could do this, she could. She signed her name with a quick flourish and handed Corder the quill. With the formalities over, her lawyer jumped to his feet, shook her hand quickly, and hurried from the room, relieved to be rid of her, no doubt.

  Honora slumped in her seat—her signature shimmered on the page. The police station had never felt so foreign to her. Once the plea deal was accepted, she’d officially become one of the condemned. She’d shifted from one side of the law to the other like a traitor to everything she held dear and she didn’t like the feeling. Every muscle in her body tensed as the ink dried on the deal. She’d accepted a plea of guilt in a black magic case, unable to tell her friends and family the truth, and was going to Everland’s most notorious prison of the past century.

  Technically she wasn’t going for twenty-five years. Corder had promised her that she’d be there for only a few days, maybe a week at most, but still, the idea was world shattering. What if something went wrong? What if he couldn’t get her out? What if an evil witch slit her throat while she slept? The irrational thoughts bombarded her. The fear made her skin crawl.

  Corder rolled up the parchment, waved his wand, and sealed the edges of the paper with a blob of black ink and the insignia of the court. A representative of the court took the parchment and slipped away, leaving Honora and the detective alone in the room.

  His brow furrowed. “I know this is hard, but think of all the stories you’ll get to tell when it’s all over.”

  Honora didn’t even try to smile. She couldn’t look at the bright side. She knew that the only way to conduct herself from this point on would be with the upmost professionalism if she wanted to make it through in one piece. “What am I supposed to do in there? What are you expecting from me?”

  Corder straightened his shirt as if taking her cue. “I expect you to observe and connect with Alana Burr, get close to her or as close as possible, and report back on her behavior. I need to know anything she tells you about the flying club, the members, and their activities, legal or illegal. No detail is too small.”

  “Do you think she knows who killed Constance Danbury?”

  “I don’t know, but she knows Ophelia Lockwood better than anyone. They formed the club together. They were like sisters until something went bad between them,” he said, sharing a small detail of his research.

  “And Alana ended up in the Banishment. Sounds like sisters turning on each other if you ask me.”

  “Which means she might talk, to the right witch. Someone with something in common.”

  A vendetta was a good icebreaker.

  In a rare moment of gentleness, Corder held her hand and gazed into her eyes. She wanted to stay in that second, to hold onto his warmth, to be safe. “I know you can do this. You’re the strongest witch I’ve ever met. You’re smart, dedicated, and the best investigator in Everland. I believe in you and I’ve got your back.”

  Honora swallowed her emotions. His faith in her was touching, but she needed to stay focused. “Who’s my contact inside?”

  “Her name is Harley Evans. I can’t tell you more. She’s in deep cover, working on multiple cases right now. She’s one of our best officers. Her handler is tight-lipped, refusing to give any details for fear of exposing her. She’s tough and talented.”

  “Do you have any idea what she looks like?”

  Corder shrugged. “Her handler said she changes her appearance to blend in.”

  That made no sense. “Inmates can’t use magic, unless she’s gotten around the restrictions. She can’t use glamors. How will I know her? Is she a guard?” Honora’s mind spun. Her backup sounded a little too casual. She was supposed to trust someone to show up out of the blue and help her. “You expect me to go on blind faith?”

  “All I know is she’s good. Don’t worry. She lives this stuff. I’m sure she’ll make contact when she gets a chance. Your lawyer will be by in two days to check on you. I’ve spoken with your lawyer and informed him to contact me directly if you have an emergency. Let him know if you need help, but keep it to emergenci
es only.”

  Honora was relieved to know she wouldn’t be totally alone on the inside. “That’ll have to be enough.”

  There was a knock on the door. Corder answered it and spoke to an officer before turning back to her. “I made arrangements for you to settle your business. You only have a few minutes to speak with them. Don’t talk about the mission,” he said and swung open the door.

  A rush of emotion overwhelmed her as Jenny and Sawyer walked into the room. Their faces were etched with worry. Jenny rushed forward and hugged her, followed by Sawyer. Honora gritted her teeth, keeping the flood of anguish at bay.

  Jenny clutched Honora’s hand. “What happened? What’s going on?”

  Honora’s mind raced. She swallowed her emotions. There was so much to say, too much. “I can’t get into the details right now. I need you to trust me like never before. I know what I’m doing. I can handle the Banishment. Please don’t worry about me.” Her words felt desperate, pleading.

  “How could this have happened?” Sawyer said, rubbing his hand over his hair. “You could have contacted us. We would have helped you. We need to get you a decent lawyer and fight this. No way are you going inside.”

  “We’re past all that now. I’ve made my decision.” Honora pleaded with her eyes.

  Jenny’s face tightened. “But you took a deal. I don’t get it. Why would you do that? You have friends and connections. We could have gotten you off. You aren’t a black magic witch. I don’t believe that for a second.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

  “That’s right,” Sawyer said. “When has Honora Mayhem ever given up this fast? This isn’t you. You’re a fighter. And we’re going to fight this.” He pounded his fist against the table.

  “No. We aren’t. Sawyer, think about what you’re saying. I would never normally do this and you’re right, so I must have a pretty good reason for my actions.” Corder forbade her from telling them the truth, but he said nothing about hinting.

  Both Sawyer and Jenny paused to let the information sink in.

  “I suppose we aren’t getting any more details,” Jenny said.

  “No. I’m sorry. But what I really need you two to do for me is to tell my sisters. Help them understand. I don’t have the heart to tell them and I don’t want them to see me like this. I need you to tell them that I’m fine and everything will work out. And I need you to go to my apartment and take care of Barnaby while I’m away. Can you do that for me?” Honora swallowed.

  Sawyer’s shoulders softened. Jenny nodded. “Of course. We’ll do whatever you need us to do.”

  “I can watch Barnaby. No problem,” Sawyer said and cut his eyes to Corder. “You’re in on this, aren’t you?”

  The detective remained silent. Sawyer shook his head. “Anything you need, Honora. We’ve got your back. But your sisters are gonna be furious. They’re going to freak out and storm this office the second they find out.”

  “Just tell them I’ve got everything under control and not to worry.”

  “Easier said than done,” Jenny said. “But we’ll help them understand, even though we don’t fully understand what’s going on ourselves.”

  “It has to be this way for now. But trust me. All of this will be cleared up shortly. I promise you. Right, Detective?” Honora asked.

  “Time to go,” he said, skirting the question.

  “Thank you both for believing in me. We’re a team and we always will be.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Sawyer said.

  “We’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry.” Jenny hugged Honora again, before Corder motioned for them to leave.

  Corder shut the door, leaving her alone. She felt terrible, like she was betraying them. It was only a matter of time before Witch World Daily covered the story. She was putting their business in jeopardy and leaving Jenny and Sawyer to run defense while she was inside. It was unfair. She should have thought this through and now she had to live with the consequences.

  Finally, there was a knock on the door. “It’s time,” Corder said.

  Honora stood. He waved his wand over her hands and a glowing band of magic cuffed her wrists together. He guided her out into the hall and led her outside to a waiting transport hover van to take her to the prison. Corder slid in next to her and they rode in silence. The cold metal seat seeped into her bones. Honora stared out the back window as she left the city she loved and traveled far out into the country. Soon the buildings all but disappeared and only rolling hills and farmland surrounded them for miles until they reached the isolated prison. They stopped at a huge black iron monstrosity. The prison was surrounded with a high brick wall topped with glass shards that looked like broken teeth. On the outside of the wall was a wide moat filled with murky water. Magic thrummed around them. It was jagged, harsh and powerful. It felt like it was scratching at her skin. She could feel the powerful enchantments radiating from the prison and surrounding grounds, making escape impossible.

  The van lurched through the gate and down the long lone road that led to the prison. It was a massive stone building with four stone towers on each corner. The windows were small, all lined up in rows along the sides of the building. Two wizards stood sentry at the huge wooden front doors. The prison held the worst of the worst—witches whose crimes were unspeakable. Only the truly wicked earned a bed in the Banishment.

  The van came to a stop at the inmate drop-off. Honora steadied herself.

  “Ready?” Corder asked, like she had a choice.

  “Harley Evans,” she said, repeating the name of her contact inside.

  “Harley Evans,” he repeated.

  “None of the guards know that I’m undercover.”

  “No. But we’re getting updates constantly on inmates’ conditions and status. Don’t worry. I won’t forget about you.” He squeezed her hand.

  Honora stared at him. “Catch Witches of a Feather and get me out of here.”

  From the second they left the van, Corder was indifferent to her. They didn’t speak nor did they exchange a casual glance. The detective left her at the door and the prison administrator took over.

  A burly witched eyed her up and down. “Welcome to the Banishment. You may call me Witch Cross. I’m in charge of checking you in and I also monitor your cell block, so we’re going to get to know each other well over the course of your stay. Let’s get off on a good foot and as long as you follow the rules, everything will be fine.” She was tall with broad shoulders and wore a dull greenish-brown uniform and thick-soled leather shoes. Her waist was cinched with a leather belt with numerous wands and charms dangling from it. Two huge wizards stood behind Honora as she went through the administration process, which included being stripped of all her possessions and examined from head to toe, magically and otherwise. The delousing spell was the worst.

  Once finished, Honora changed into a red shirt and pair of pants and slip on canvas shoes. Witch Cross bent down and attached a metal band around Honora’s ankle. She flinched at the feel of cold metal against her skin. It vibrated with magic. “It’s to keep you from flying. It’s not permanent, but we can’t have you flying around now, can we?”

  “It’s a magic dampener,” Honora said in more of a statement than a question. She’d heard of them. It was how the prison controlled the inmates’ persuasions. What had she expected? Her freedom to fly was stripped. Panic bubbled up inside her and she jerked upward, testing the cuff immediately. It felt like her legs were encased in cement and her effort jolted her bones. She tried again with no luck. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t fly and it terrified her.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Witch Cross said. “Everyone here does. Now I’ll show you to your cell and you can get settled.”

  There was no way she would ever get used to not flying; it
was who she was. She couldn’t imagine how Alana was taking it. Losing her magic was torture. Honora followed Witch Cross down a hallway that seemed to get darker and dingier with each step. “You will be staying in cell block eleven. It’s for black magic witches. We like to keep you all together, to keep a close eye on you.”

  Attention might not be that bad if it kept her safe.

  “Your cell is connected to a common area where you can socialize. Meals are taken in the dining room. You are given an hour of recreation time daily. After you acclimate, you will be assigned a job to occupy your time and contribute to society.” Her voice droned on, but Honora could barely listen. Coldness enveloped her. Compared to the outside world, the inside of the prison was practically void of magical energy and the warmth it brought with it. Magic was the lifeblood of Everland and this place had been drained of it, except for the limited magic the guards used to keep the prisoners in line.

  Her cell block was little more than a dungeon. Black bars with huge locks separated each hallway and doorway. The walls, floor, and cells were all a muddy stone color. The lock released, the bars sliding open. Witch Cross led her into the common room. Around the perimeter of the room were a dozen cells, two witches per cell, she surmised. Witch Cross clapped her hands, attracting the attention of the other witches, a group of about two dozen. Honora’s heart raced. She hadn’t expected so many of them, thinking they would be kept to smaller quarters.

  “Ladies, we have a new witch joining us today. I’m sure you will all make her feel welcome and help her get accustomed to how we do things around here.”

  Cackles and jeers filled the room. An array of witches dressed in red prison attire leered at her. Honora saw Alana Burr almost immediately. Corder had shown her a picture of the witch, so she’d know whom to target. With long black hair, heavy brows, and dark eyes, she was striking. Her skin was pale as moonlight and she wore a tight grin. She was the only one smiling at her, and Honora wondered for a second, exactly who was watching whom.