Wrapping Up

by A. A. Albright

‘Neither,’ I said. ‘Well, they kind of get in on both holidays just for the laugh. In fact, we’ll be meeting Jasper in a little while at the bonfire, so he can hand Wolfie over to Max for the next couple of days.’

  I looked over at Max. Just the mention of that enormous dog made him grin from ear to ear. ‘But they do celebrate the December full moon in style apparently,’ I went on. ‘Only no one who’s not in their inner circle has ever been to one of those parties. Vampires have a ceremony tonight, though, but it’s kind of the opposite to ours. They’re mourning the coming of longer days, instead of welcoming them.’

  ‘Dayturners are probably happy about it, though,’ said Christine. ‘Hey, Wanda – it looks like there’s one more present for you.’

  I looked down at the pile of unwrapped goodies before me. ‘I don’t see anything.’

  ‘Not in here.’ She nodded at the kitchen window and winked. ‘Out there.’

  I followed her eyes, and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. In the field behind our house, now that the barley had finally been cut, I could see that my father’s work shed was lit up, with the door open. I glanced around the kitchen. Somewhere during my unwrapping frenzy, my dad must have slipped out.

  ‘He’s working again!’ I wiped a tear from my cheek. ‘Well, that is, without a doubt, the best present I could have received.’

  My mother came to the rug and pulled me up. ‘Maybe,’ she said, leading me towards the back door. ‘But it’s not the present Christine was talking about. Come on. Let’s go see what Dad’s up to out there.’

  As I walked along with my mother, I could feel everyone else trailing behind. Their glee was tangible, which meant that they knew something I didn’t.

  As we reached the door of the shed, I saw what that was. My dad was standing there, arms outstretched, holding the most beautiful broom I had ever seen, wrapped in a bright red bow. ‘It’s for you,’ he said. ‘You lost your old one in Chaos Chasm, so I thought you could do with something new. It’s ... it’s the first thing I’ve made since coming home. I hope it’s good enough for you – Amelia Albright tells me you’re a very promising flyer.’

  His hands were shaking, and so were mine as I reached out to take it. Just like the brooms he had been producing in Facility B, this one hummed with power. ‘I love you, Dad,’ I said, hugging him close. ‘And this broom is the best present in the world. Also, I think we probably have time to take it out before the bonfire.’

  18. Strangled

  As it turned out, the broom really was the best present I had ever received. Flying it was so exhilarating that I never wanted to stop. Max, though, seemed far from exhilarated. If anything, he was looking a bit green – but that might have had something to do with the fact that he was the last one I took for a ride.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I asked, laughing, as we returned to the back garden. ‘I thought you were going to squeeze the life out of me at one stage there.’

  ‘Yeah, that would have been around the same time that you decided to fly upside down.’

  ‘You were fine.’ I turned my head to kiss his cheek before swinging off the broom. ‘I bonded you to me. And seeing as I was bonded to the broom, you weren’t going anywhere. You know I’d never let anything happen to my Maxie.’

  His face went purple with the cold, and he poked me in the ribs and said, ‘Come on, you madwoman. Let’s get inside and get these stupid golden robes on.’

  ≈

  Max and I would be staying at Wayfarers’ Rest for the night (or what was left of the night after the Solstice celebrations), so I went to my old bedroom to change. The mice were in there, snoozing on my bed, while Dizzy looked worriedly on.

  ‘They’re not gone yet, Wanda. They’ve only fallen asleep because they ate so much food at dinner. I don’t think Mrs Dove is the murderer.’

  ‘I don’t either,’ I told him softly. ‘I think the evidence that leads to the real murderer is staring me right in the face. And I think those poor little mice are beginning to lose faith in me. They’ve been so quiet all afternoon and evening. Did they say anything to you before they fell asleep?’

  The bat looked away from me. ‘They said they hoped it was Mrs Dove, but they didn’t think it was, because her smell wasn’t right. Then they said ... they said that they were going to go to sleep anyway, in the hopes that they’d pass on and be with Winnie.’

  I gazed down at the three of them, curled up in a little ball on my pillow. I had no idea what it felt like to be a familiar. The idea of being so attached to someone that you would die when they did seemed unfair to me. But to every familiar I’d worked with so far, it was the natural course of things. It wasn’t the thought of dying that frightened them. They were far more upset to have to live on without their witch. All of them wanted me to solve the murder, and quick, so they could be set back on that natural course.

  ‘I’ll figure it out,’ I said determinedly, pulling my golden robes and mask from the chair by the bed. ‘Before the Solstice is over, I’ll have figured this out. But do you know what, Dizzy? The truth is, I’m far more worried about Mrs Dove than I am about the murderer.’

  ‘Because she’s crazy? The mice said she’s crazy.’

  I quickly dressed, looking at myself in the mirror. Shiny gold material was not a friend to my hips. ‘She has problems,’ I said. ‘Maybe even an illness. She definitely needs help, but I wouldn’t call her crazy. But Dizzy, whatever she was fighting over with Winnie was bad. Really bad. Bad enough that she’d rather admit to a murder she didn’t commit than tell me what it was. What could be that bad?’

  The bat shrugged. ‘Two murders?’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Yeah, Dizzy. Two murders. That’ll be it.’

  ‘Your necklace is nice,’ he said, snuggling into me. ‘Is it from Gabe? You don’t need to answer that. I already know it is, because it smells like him.’

  I picked up the spherical sun, and sniffed. Dizzy was right. Gabriel’s’ scent was all over it. He must have just spritzed himself before he wrapped the box. ‘Y’know, I looked everywhere for that cologne so I could buy him some for Solstice. I couldn’t even find a bottle in his flat. I wound up buying him a boring old watch even though he has a hundred watches already. And I don’t even know if I’ll give it to him now.’

  I sighed and looked at the holly brooch. It was so beautiful that it would be a shame not to wear it – plus, I’d be advertising Lassie’s wares. I picked it up and fixed it to the bodice of my robes. No, I hadn’t made up my mind about Gabriel just yet. All I knew was that, whenever he was near me, it was the only place in the world I wanted to be.

  ≈

  The market had been cleared of stalls, and a huge bonfire was lighting in the centre. By the time Arthur Albright and Agatha kicked off the short ceremony, most people already wore their golden robes, although they would be leaving their masks off until the ball began. Everyone looked so glamorous, shimmering in the firelight. Melissa looked particularly stunning, but then I sometimes thought she could make a bin bag look good.

  Max looked ... a little different. I had offered to do a warmth spell for him, but he decided he wanted to wear his new scarf, hat and gloves instead. And considering he was just about the tallest person at the fire, he definitely stood out.

  ‘I only wore the woollies so I could cover up my stupid Pendant of Privilege,’ he grumbled. ‘But they’re all looking at me anyway. I can’t win.’

  ‘If they are looking your way, then that’s just because they’re jealous,’ I said. ‘Witches might not need scarves, but we sure do love them. I wish I’d worn mine.’

  His eyes went to my neck. ‘But then no one would get to see your new necklace, would they? Seeing as it smells like that sickly sweet cologne he wears, then I guess it’s back on with Mr TV.’

  I linked my arm through his. ‘I really don’t know, Max. All I’m sure about is that nothing is going to happen unless it’s all right with you.’

  ‘What? Why does it matter what I think?’


  I looked up at him, all shaggy hair and caveman teeth and big brown eyes. The firelight was shining on him, making him look like a great big glowing symbol of all that was lovely in the world. ‘It matters,’ I said. ‘If you just thought Gabriel was a twat for no good reason, I’d shake it off. But you do have good reason. He’s flown off the handle way too many times. He says ... he says it’s because he’s jealous. Of us. You and me.’

  Max blinked. ‘Jealous? Of us? Give over.’

  ‘Well, not because he thinks there’s anything going on. Obviously.’

  ‘Yeah, well, obviously.’

  ‘He just thinks he hardly gets to see me, and you and me are always together,’ I went on. ‘But I mean, that’s just because we live together. And I like living with you. You like to eat nearly as much as I do. We like watching the same stuff on TV. We read the same sorts of books and listen to the same kinds of music. We don’t argue about anything. Living with you is as close to perfect as it gets, Max. Why would I move just because he’s having a hissy fit? You like living with me too, don’t you?’

  His face was turning a little red, and he was staring at me far too intently. ‘Actually, Wanda,’ he said, pulling at his scarf. ‘I’m starting to feel a bit strangled.’

  ‘What?’ I moved away from him, a wave of hurt surging through me. ‘By me? I ... do you really mean that? Do you want me to move out? To be less in your face? Just tell me, Max.’

  His eyes looked close to popping. ‘Not that,’ he said in a high–pitched voice. ‘I’m being strangled, Wanda! My scarf!’ He pulled desperately at the red and white wool around his neck. ‘My scarf is ...’

  I looked at the scarf, and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It had tied itself into a knot, and was tightening itself around his neck. I rushed back to Max’s side, furiously trying to undo the scarf. It was tightening fast, though, and I could do nothing to stop it. It took a moment for the rest of the crowd around the bonfire to realise what was happening, but as soon as they did, it was all hands on deck – well, all hands on the scarf – while poor Max’s face grew redder and redder.

  As I struggled to get a hand underneath the scarf, I had a sudden flash of what life would be like without Max. No popcorn and scary movies with Dizzy and Wolfie curled up by our sides. No veggie bacon sandwiches on a Sunday morning. No long chats in the Water Bowl over black bean burritos. No him. Tears streamed down my face as I worked, trying everything I could think of, from incantations to sheer brute force.

  And Max, the stupid fool that he was, began to smile and try to talk. ‘It’s been great living with you, Wanda,’ he croaked out. ‘And I want to tell you something before ... before ... Wanda, if I die ... I want you to know that I ... I ...’

  I shook my head at him, pulling the scarf with all my might. ‘Stop right there, Max. You’re not getting away from me that easily!’ I cried. And as I said it, I knew that I was right. Because in my state of desperation, the answer to a recent question became suddenly clear. ‘Oh my stars! Mam! Dad! We need to get Max over to the Wyrd Court. Right now!’

  ≈

  I used to think it was a sensible idea to block travel directly inside the Wyrd Court. It meant that criminals couldn’t easily escape. Or that politicians couldn’t do a runner when they’d been caught with their hands in the candy jar. But right now, I thought it was the stupidest idea in the world.

  We landed on the steps and rushed straight through to the interrogation rooms, with all of us pulling at Max’s neck, unsuccessfully trying out spell after spell to give him air. Finn, Lassie, Christine, Melissa, my father and mother and even Agatha were with us. But not a single one of us could manage to find a spell that would undo the scarf.

  I recognised the Peacemaker behind the desk, a guy called Darren. ‘Open Mrs Dove’s room. Now!’ I cried as we rushed Max past him. ‘Oh and ... Merry Solstice, Darren.’

  When we arrived at the interrogation room, Mrs Dove was staring miserably at the floor. ‘What are you all doing here?’ she said, barely inclining her head in our direction. ‘I’m not going to change my mind, Wanda. No matter how many people you get to come and convince me. I told you, I deserve to go to jail.’

  ‘Yes!’ I shouted. ‘You do! You did this to the scarves, didn’t you?’ I landed poor Max at her feet, while I kept pulling at his scarf. ‘Tell me how to undo it!’

  Her face paled. ‘Oh, my stars! How did this happen? Winnie said she was going to destroy the whole box.’

  ‘Well, clearly she didn’t get around to it. So get up off your self-pitying behind and do something to stop this!’ I heard the words coming out of my mouth. And whilst I normally would have felt terrible for saying something like that, just then I didn’t. The only thing I felt was worry for Max.

  ‘Well?’ My father stood forward, eyeballing Mrs Dove. ‘Can’t you hear what my daughter is saying to you? Do something!’

  For far too long a moment I thought she was going to freeze, but eventually she stood up on shaky legs and made her way towards Max. Once she got to him, she worked quickly, waving her hands in the air and saying, ‘Undo now this spell of mine, let this scarf cease to entwine.’

  I felt the scarf grow slack, and as Max began to gasp for air, I felt like I, too, had been holding my breath the whole time. While I fussed over him, giving him little sips of water and making sure he was all right, Mrs Dove began to wring her hands and pace the room.

  ‘This wasn’t supposed to happen!’ she shrieked. ‘I told you, Winnie took my box of scarf sets off me. She said she was going to destroy all of it!’

  ‘That’s what you were hiding from us all this time?’ Finn looked at her, a mixture of shock and disgust in his eyes. ‘Winnie found out that you’d put this horrible spell on your scarves? That’s what the two of you were fighting over?’

  She looked away from him. ‘Yes. That’s what happened. I wanted ... I wanted everyone’s Winter Solstice to be as miserable and lonely as mine, so I knitted an enchantment into the scarves. Once midnight hit, they’d strangle anyone who put them on. When Winnie realised what I was doing, she took the box off me. I was angry at first, but the more I thought on it, the more I felt grateful to her for not letting me go through with it. That’s why I went back the next day – to apologise. But ... she was already dead when I got there.’ She began pulling at her hair. ‘I was so wrong, so wrapped up in my own misery, feeling sorry for myself because I was going to have yet another depressing Solstice. Dozens of people could have died because of me.’

  ‘Dozens of people still could!’ Finn shouted. ‘Every single red and white scarf has that spell woven into it, doesn’t it?’

  Mrs Dove nodded. ‘Yes. But at least now you can see why I was so ashamed. You can understand why I wanted to go to Witchfield, even if I didn’t kill Winnie.’

  Lassie had been quiet for a while, helping me with Max, but she suddenly glared up at Mrs Dove. ‘You’re absolutely right to be ashamed of yourself, you crazy old bat. You do deserve to be in Witchfield, and I hope you stay there for the rest of your life.’ She turned back to look after Max, still red with rage.

  Finn moved close to me. ‘Wanda, what are we going to do?’ he asked in a low voice. ‘I mean, none of the witches will be wearing the scarves tonight. But any other supernatural could have bought them. And witches could put them on tomorrow, when their magic is too dulled by a hangover to manage a warmth spell. We need to find everyone who bought those scarves. But how the hell are we going to do that?’

  For a moment I felt almost as hopeless as Finn sounded, but then it hit me, like a wonderful, precious, Winter Solstice miracle. ‘Candace!’ I cried. ‘We have to get to Candace.’

  19. The Nice List

  Finn and I stood in Candace’s bedroom, a dozen hastily gathered Wayfairs and Peacemakers around us. Her mother had been reluctant to let all of us into the house, but Finn had pulled out his truncheon again, and forced her to move aside. I had hoped that kindness and concern for her fellow supernatural
s would have been enough to gain us entry, but apparently some people don’t let such bothersome irritations into their hearts.

  ‘I can’t believe Mrs Dove has done this,’ Candace said with a scowl, as she performed a nifty little copy spell, making enough copies of her naughty and nice list to go around. ‘I’ll have to move her onto my naughty list now.’

  Finn stared down glumly at the paper in his hand. ‘So is there any way to narrow down who bought the red and white striped scarves specifically?’

  Candace shrugged. ‘No. Most people bought a few things. I was only concerned with who was helping the fundraiser.’

  I gave her a brief squeeze. ‘Thanks, Candace. This is more than enough to go on. You are – quite literally – a lifesaver.’ I looked around the room. ‘I’ll network the lists, so that every time we check a name, it’ll be magically crossed off everyone else’s copy. You all have five people to check on, so let’s get going.’

  Fingers clicked all around, and we went on our way.

  ≈

  The next couple of hours went by in an exhausting blur. All of the witches on the list were safe, if a little bit miffed that we took their Solstice scarves away. But as for the rest of the people on the nice side of the list, we only just got to them in time. Even with Mrs Dove’s incantation to undo the strangling scarves, we still needed to get two vampires, one wizard and a werewolf over to Night and Gale to recover.

  ‘I still can’t believe Mrs Dove did something so ... so ... so ... ugh ...’ Finn shook his head, sitting down in a chair in the foyer of Night and Gale. We were done for the night, finally, and as I sank down beside him, I thought I might just fall asleep in that chair.

  ‘I know. I guess it’s like she said. She was so wrapped up in her own misery, she just wanted everyone else to feel the same. Ha, ha, wrapped up. That’s not a funny joke. Pretend I never said that.’