It was unusual.
“Anyway, this isn’t anything to do with who likes who, or who doesn’t, it’s to do with facts. The magic used for investments is fool-proof. For a good reason.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Do we know who left the circle of protection incomplete?”
They all shake their heads, no. They haven’t even tried to find out, truth be told.
“This is extremely serious. An absolute balls-up, if you will.”
“Is there anything we can do? Before...” Elodie hesitates, unsure if the crone knows about the rogue collective, the true nature of Adam’s death, the danger they all face.
“I know. I know everything, remember.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me, either?” Elodie is furious at being kept in the dark about such a serious thing.
“It’s not my job to tell you anything. I’m not beholden to you – and neither are Griff or Ember. We all have autonomy over our lives and decisions. Maybe they should have told you, maybe they did the right thing in handling it, but get off your high horse, Elodie. None of us are perfect in this world.”
Elodie is silent, stung by the reproach.
“Anyway, it is too late. They already know.”
It’s as though she enjoys dropping such a shattering bombshell; she pretends to flick through the book again, but she’s watching the faces of the people around the table: shock, horror, fear.
She smiles. “There’s a blonde fairy – Peri. She was at the investment. She saw it all. She’s in charge of the rogue fairies.”
Ember has her hand clutched to her heart. “Is it true, crone? Do they really know?”
She nods. “They do.”
“Why haven’t they come for us already? If they know? How are we still here?”
“I believe they are gathering all their troops. Their numbers have dwindled, thanks to the good work Griff and his team do, but there are enough of them to be victorious.”
“So what do we do? Can we undo this with Ellis?”
“Is there any point?” The crone points at a page in her book. “The damage is done. Ellis is a witch – head witch. The collective knows. They are angrier than ever since you found out about them, since you started fighting back. So many of their number are dead. This has just fired up their fury even more. They are ready for their independence from you, and they are ready to end your species for good.”
“Why are they so hell-bent on destroying us? Do you know? Why not just ask for independence, do it peacefully? Why kill all of us?”
The crone looks at Thea, sadness colouring her face. “Oh, lovely, they have. Each time a new head witch has been invested, the species would come and ask for help, autonomy, the doing away of the old ways, that kept them under our control.”
“And?” This is news to all of them, and they are all listening intently, leaning in. The crone delights in this.
“And each time we turned them down.”
The shock is evident on their faces. Only Ellis is neutral.
“Why?”
“Why do you think, Fletcher? Even your father refused their request.”
“He turned them down. Really?”
She nods.
“Power.” This from Ellis. They all turn to look at her and the crone laughs.
“You’re right, of course, absolutely. Power. We have had it for so long, taken it for granted for so long, that when each head witch was asked to undo these archaic rules from the past, they refused. Power.” She sits back and folds her arms.
Fletcher grins. “Well, that’s it then. We’ll go to the head of each species and give them what they want. Give them all their freedom. Then this collective will have nothing to argue about, no reason to hurt us.”
The crone shakes her head and smiles at him. “Lovely boy. Full of the idiocy of youth. So sure you can make the world a better place. So clueless. Fletcher, it is far too late. We have kept the other species cowed down for too long. We cannot just cheerfully give them back their freedom now. The collective is too strong, too determined. Yes, their numbers have dwindled, but their anger? Their fury? It is as strong as it has ever been. Maybe stronger.”
“So what do we do? Lie down and wait for death?” This from Elodie, who looks sick with worry.
The crone shakes her head and points at the words in the book again. “You mustn’t lie down. You mustn’t surrender. Whether we have been right or wrong, we are here now, and it’s not just us who is in danger, or poor Ellis, who stumbled into this mess, but every single witch in this whole country. And, if they get their way, they won’t stop here. They will go on and kill every witch in the whole world. This is a war, now, an attack on our very being.”
“We fight?” Talia’s voice is but a squeak. She sounds more than terrified.
The crone nods. “Absolutely. This accident has only served to further their fury and accelerate their nonsense. As well as Griff and co. have done by fighting back, it would have come to a head eventually. They have been determined to kill Fletcher, to end the reign, to ruin the magic. And it would have worked. Now they will want to kill Ellis.”
Ellis squeaks.
“But this brings the whole sorry mess out into the open. Whether they have been a completely rogue element, or an element with intrinsic permission from their heads, we don’t know. But now is the time to quash them. Fight back – in the open. Then their species will have to back them or prove their innocence in all of this.”
“So many of us have died at their hands.”
“True, Ember. And many more will before it ends, I fear.”
“There’s no other way? We can’t...” Elodie trails off, the hopelessness of the situation frustrating her. “How can we be in the middle of a war I know nothing about?”
“Elodie, I think when you realise the full extent of what’s gone on, the death, the destruction, the waste of lives, you’ll be glad that Griff and Ember tried to protect you – and Adam. Wanting to protect someone you love is the biggest declaration of love there is. Wanting to keep you safe at their own expense.”
Elodie has the grace to look embarrassed, and then looks to her sister and Griff, to all of them in turn.
“War it is.”
Ellis
WAR! THE MOST I’M GOOD for is putting a bit of blusher on a corpse. I can’t fight, I can’t use my magic to any good end. I’m not equipped for a species war, for crying out loud.
I shrink back in my seat. Maybe I could just go home. If this rogue collective wants Fletcher dead so badly, maybe I can just go home, say nothing, carry on with my dead people, and stay out of it?
I know it’s impossible to escape from this, and I feel the weight of fear squashing me, but also, a twinge of something else – fight? Fury? Indignance? I can’t think of the word, but I don’t want to slink away, I want to help Fletcher, I want to see him triumph. I want to help, if I can.
Elodie turns to Zeta, the beautiful crone – and I have to say, she is beautiful. She looks like a film star. I feel really dowdy next to all the women in this family. Elodie is the plainest of them all, and even she’s a hot potato. They are all glossy and glamorous and I’m just a teenage scruff bag.
I feel really self-conscious all of a sudden. I’m the most powerful witch in the country. I should look glossy and glamorous too. Not plain and boring.
I tune back into the conversation, embarrassed about my vanity at a time of crisis and wish I could tune back out.
“Elodie. They’re on their way.” The crone says, standing up.
They all jump up, a jumble of cries and panicked exclamations. I stand up too but I don’t know what to do or what to say.
“Are you sure?”
The crone gives Ember a look. If she knows everything, then she knows. I start crying. People who want me dead are on their way to this lovely little cottage in Mumbles. And I’m about to die.
Fletcher is at my side, hand in mine.
The crone nods at Elodie. “You have to go. You have to
keep the accident safe. She has everything. She knows everything. Gather the troops. The important witch families. Win this war. End this war. But keep her safe. You cannot let her die.”
This is reassuring. Ish.
“What about you?” Ember touches the crone’s arm.
“I’ll hold them off. You go.”
“We can’t leave you, Zeta.”
“You have to. I am ready to die. I have known it was coming. I’ll hold them off. You go.”
They all look shocked and it hits me then that everything they hold dear is about to be broken apart. The life that Fletcher thought he was leading was a lie. His father was murdered, people want him dead, and he’s about to fight a war he knew nothing about. This crone is about to die, she knew it was coming.
She ushers us out of the back door, and I am bundled along with everyone else. Not that I want to stay and face this collective, but it feels wrong that we are leaving this woman to die.
I open my mouth to speak, say something on her behalf, when there’s a pounding at the front door, followed by the almost deafening sound of the wood being kicked or bashed or slammed, and cracking open.
There is a lot of shouting and then Fletcher takes my hand and pulls me along. We flee down a back alley, along the back of all the little cottage gardens and a wave of absolute reality hits me, and I stumble.
Fletcher stops, pulls me up. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head. “Not even a little bit. Let’s go.”
Now I’m pulling him, away from the danger. At this very minute Zeta is being murdered. She might take a few with her, I have no idea of her strength or the depth of her magic, but I know – and she knew – that she was about to die.
I stop by a lamppost and throw up. An old woman walking her dog gives me a disgusted look and then I laugh; she probably thinks I’m drunk. I’d love to tell her the truth.
We stop in a pile of breathless bodies next to the fence and Elodie looks around the front. She squeaks and pulls back, muttering for us to follow her, her tone frightened and not to be argued with.
She stops behind the next row of cottages and puts a protective bubble around us. I can feel the change in the air. “This won’t hide us for long, but we’re going to have to fly home.”
“What’s wrong with the minibus?” Griff asks, fear evident in his voice.
“One of them is sitting in it. Three others are headed our way, to the back of Zeta’s cottage. Silence. Here they come.”
I hold my breath and peer out of the group huddle. Then I wish I hadn’t looked. I have never seen such a scary bunch of people. If Fletcher and his family look normal and nobody could ever guess they weren’t just normal humans, not witches, then this lot are the exact opposite.
Three of them.
Two women and one man.
They are walking quickly, too quickly, and so silently. Their feet aren’t making a noise on the gravel or the grass.
Even though they are dressed normally, something radiates from them and I think a normal person would see it too. They wouldn’t know what it was, of course, not like I do.
There’s a menacing gait to the way they walk, the air around them seems to fizz and spark. I know they aren’t witches, and I wish I knew if they were vampires, shifters or fairies. Maybe they are one of each.
They turn and I gasp, cover my mouth with my hand and accept the nudge off Thea, because I almost shouted out in surprise, and wonder, really.
One of them is a fairy. I can see her wings. They are exactly like you imagine them to be. See through, but sparkly, ethereal looking and ridiculously pretty. They sprout out through her clothes; she must have made holes for them – or bought her outfit in a special fairy shop. I have too many questions, and again, I’m been side-tracked from the awfulness of this situation.
Mere feet away from me are three people who want to kill me. The man whips around and glares in our general direction, but then they are gone.
Elodie turns to Fletcher. “She can’t fly on her own.”
Meaning me. At least she doesn’t call me the accident.
“I’ll hold her.”
Okay. Not going to argue with that.
Oh.
He stands in front of me and wraps his arms around me, one around my waist and one around my shoulders, so tightly that I can’t move. “Keep still. This will feel strange, but you’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Yeah, he does.
He’s taller than me, so my head is resting on his chest, and I can hear his heart beating. I breathe in the smell of him and enjoy the warmth of his body against my cheek and-
Waaaagh!
We are flying. I am flying.
This feels so weird. He’s not flapping his wings like a bird or a fairy, there’s no broom stick involved, but we are flying, no we are rocketing, that’s the word for it. We are just flying through the air like we’ve been shot out of a cannon ball. I keep my head tucked against his chest and grip onto his top with my fingers, until I’m sure they are white.
Then we land. Gracefully and elegantly, just down onto the ground. He unwraps himself from me and I feel cold without him next to me. I want him to hold me again.
Ridiculous.
“Are you okay? Was that okay for you?”
Was that okay for me?
I cannot speak, it was so good.
I nod and he grins, takes my hand and turns to the others. We have all landed, and none of them have a hair out of place. We just flew twenty miles in the space of about five minutes, and they look so unruffled.
“We need to get inside and call up the witches, the big families. We’ll take a few each – it’ll be quicker.”
“Elodie, stop.”
Elodie stops, mid step and looks up at their house. She sees what Griff saw – a tiny flicker of light, like a torch being turned off. They could easily have missed it.
“Keep walking to the house and talking,” she says in a whisper. “Like we haven’t noticed. When you get to the front step, fly.”
“Fly with me,” Griff says. “We have a safe house. Don’t lose me.”
The only good thing to come out of this, is that once again Fletcher has his arms around me, ready to fly again.
12
FLETCHER SCOOPS ELLIS in his arms again and can’t help but smile. She no longer smells of sick, though the smell of strawberries and apples has gone, she smells fresh and sweet. He likes holding onto her so tightly. He likes the way she’s gripping onto his clothes.
He shakes his head. The rogue collective has killed Zeta, and some of them are in his house. He has no idea how they breached the protections they have in place.
He flies, keeping his eyes on Griff, letting his uncle’s magic lead them all to the safe house. It doesn’t take long and reluctantly he lets Ellis go. She smiles up at him, shyly, now that they are with his family again.
“Inside.” Griff holds open the door to an estate agents and they all hurry inside. Nobody seems to notice as they pass through the middle of their working day, and into another room. “Upstairs.” They head up and he locks the door behind them.
Upstairs they head through three doors in a row, all along a dark corridor and then into another room. They are in the attic and it’s huge.
“It’s the attics of all ten shops in this row, knocked through into one. It’s our base.”
Indeed, down one end of the room, they can see desks, and computers, a few people bent over screens, talking amongst themselves.
This end seems comfier, a little cosier. “Through there are the bunk beds, and a bathroom, if any of you need the loo. It’s not fancy, but it’s completely safe.”
That reminds Fletcher. “How did they get into our house?”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Ember says, looking nervous. “Are you sure this place is safe Griff? And how did they find Zeta?”
He shakes his head. “I have no idea. But this place is safe. I’d bet my life on it.”
“Well
, if it isn’t, then you have.”
They are all silent. Thea and Talia wander down to the computers, strike up conversation with the witches working on them. Ellis sinks onto a sofa. Her legs have turned to jelly. They have just escaped two really close calls.
Fletcher sits opposite her on a chair and closes his eyes.
Elodie, Ember and Griff huddle in a corner.
Ellis picks at the skin next to her fingernails, pulling and worrying at it until she makes herself bleed. She sucks on her finger. Fletcher comes over and takes her hand from her mouth. “You’re a witch now. Look.” He rubs her skin with his finger, and the cut vanishes. She smiles up at him. “Thank you. I always do this when I’m upset.”
“I’m sorry. I feel just terrible that you’re mixed up in all this.”
“Again, it’s not your fault.” She pauses. “Did you know the crone, um, Zeta very well.”
He nods, eyes filling with tears. “We don’t spend a lot of time with her – she likes, liked, to keep to herself, but I can’t believe she’s dead. That they killed her looking for us.”
“I’m just glad we got away when we did. She was very brave, risking her life for ours.”
“For yours. Like she said, you have the knowledge, power, magic, all of our history inside you. We have to keep you safe.” He takes hold of her hand. “I want to keep you safe.”
Thea and Talia sit down on another sofa, looking pointedly at Fletcher and Ellis’s hands. He lets go of her, and rubs his hands through his hair, embarrassed at being caught being so soppy.
“What are they doing down there? Anyone we know?”
“No one we know. They’re contacting the families – everyone should be here within the hour.”
“That’s quick.”
“They’re messaging everyone. They’ll all fly in.”
Fletcher nods and clears his throat, overcome with awkwardness; he hates giving the twins a reason to tease him and he knows that even though they’re in the middle of the worst day of their lives, they are going to tease him mercilessly about holding hands with Ellis.
The Accidental Witch Page 11