What The Cat Dragged In (The Celtic Witch Mysteries Book 1)

by Molly Milligan

  “I wanted to connect with them so I went out into the garden, just to meditate,” she said.

  Already I had a bad feeling about that. Unprotected? She really didn’t understand how powerful and morally grey these beings were.

  I kept quiet, though. She carried on. “I just wanted to say hello. I heard music and singing but I knew not to follow it. I know the story of Tam Lin. So I stood there and listened.”

  But she had followed. I said, “And then?”

  “That’s it.” She hung her head. “I guess I got bewitched anyway, huh?”

  “I think you did.”

  ***

  I was surprised that afternoon by another visit from Dean. I found him sitting in the kitchen with Dilys. They both looked at me with concern on their faces.

  “You’re going to have to do something,” Dilys said.

  “The ghost has been pretty quiet so far today.”

  “But you know it won’t last. It never does. I met a woman who’d been haunted in Istanbul.”

  We both waited for her to finish the story but instead she got up and went to the hallway, and shouted for Maddie to come and join us all. I lifted my eyebrows at Dean, and he just smiled back. He knew what my great aunt was like.

  “Right,” said Dilys when all four of us were around the table. She placed a plate of scones in the middle. As I reached out to pick one up, she slapped the back of my hand.

  “Ow! Why not?”

  “Not until we have a plan.”

  I was destined to starve, then, I thought bitterly.

  I outlined what had happened and the impasse we were currently at.

  Dean picked at his lips with his long fingers until I kicked him under the table and he stopped. “You’ve tried your methods, and it hasn’t worked,” he said. “You’ve spoken to Iolo, and got nowhere there. I think there is only one thing left to do.”

  “What?”

  Everyone stared at their hands.

  “What?” I asked again, more loudly.

  Dean looked up. So he had more courage than my mad aunt, did he? He looked me in the eye and said, “I think you are going to have to talk to the vicar.”

  “I’ve spoken with Horatio,” I said.

  “No,” Dilys said. “He means, you need to ask the vicar to do an exorcism.”

  “It’s not that sort of thing,” I protested. “And he’s not that sort of vicar. They really don’t go around flinging Holy Water at people. Robert Cameron’s ghost is just a ghost, not some evil demon.”

  “But it has a demand that we can’t fulfil and it shouldn’t be here on this earthly plane,” Dean said. “It needs to be put to rest, for its own sake as well as all our sanities.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Why?” Dilys said. “There’s nothing to think about. Just act. Go and see him right now.”

  “I will call in,” I promised. “But I have some things to do first.”

  “Such as?”

  “My healing work,” I said. It was not a lie. But I was forming a plan of my own.

  ***

  I did spend the few remaining hours of daylight seeing to my various animal and human charges. I wandered around our little town, slowly, taking it all in. I let my subconscious mind worry at the topic while I concentrated on the everyday tasks. I met Jemima who gave me a small bag of spirulina powder. Apparently it was a superfood but I just hoped I didn’t get stopped by Polly Jones because it looked like I was carrying drugs.

  I glanced through the windows of Caffi Cwtch but Billy wasn’t there. I hoped he’d got a few days’ work from someone. I had a very strong suspicion that in spite of all of Alston’s spite and grumpiness, he never asked Billy to pay for his drinks.

  I paused outside Sian’s hippy shop. There was a display of watercolour greetings cards in the window – flower fairies, not the real actual Faeries – sitting on toadstools and playing pipes. I shook my head.

  Everything seemed so normal and usual.

  I felt sick to my stomach.

  That night, I had decided that I would go to the sports centre and I would perform the first real banishing spell of my life. The first on a human ghost, at any rate. I suspected this would be a lot more difficult and potentially dangerous than anything I’d done on someone’s verrucae.

  And of course, this was why I hadn’t told Maddie, Dean or my aunt.

  This was too dangerous to involve them.

  I needed to prepare.

  Twenty-eight

  I pretended that I had to go out again that evening. I said that Mr Jones had asked me to call on his wife but she was out at work and would not be back till late. I said that I’d promised to call in, that evening. I also said that Horatio had not been at home when I had tried to speak to him.

  I felt ill and I knew that most of it was from my lies.

  But was I lying, I asked myself. Was this actually an example of integrity, like Horatio had spoken of?

  The sick feeling continued. I was lying even to myself, I realised.

  But it was too late to back out now. I didn’t want to put those closest to me at risk. Maddie’s powers were untrained and unpredictable. Dean didn’t even deal in this kind of realm. And Dilys was elderly and it would have been wrong of me to ask her to come along.

  I dashed out of the door with my backpack before any of them could question me any further. I was wearing a thick warm coat and good boots, and I was glad of it. The Welsh rain was particularly vicious in February. It was icy cold, and nearly sleeting.

  I pulled my scarf around my neck. Dilys had knitted it for me during her “homespun” phase and it was itchy and smelled faintly of sheep, but it was warm and even slightly waterproof, which was odd and something I didn’t look into too deeply.

  The rain plastered my hair to my face. My gloves were already soaked through. Few people were out at this time of night. Most people were now at home after a day’s work, sitting with their families or pets, eating and watching television. As I strode past a row of terraced cottages that came right up to the pavement’s edge, my crackling energy of anticipation caused a surge into each person’s living room. I caught the fuzz of static where people had left their curtains open. I could see their television and computer screens flicker as I went past.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, feeling the familiar pang of isolation and regret.

  This talent was a hard one to bear, sometimes. I felt very “outside” of normal life.

  I shook myself. The rain made everyone maudlin, didn’t it? I reached the sports centre and lingered in the far end of the uneven car park. A few cars remained but it was not long until their closing time and I assumed that the vehicles mostly belong to members of staff.

  I found a tree to shelter under until they had all left. There was no sign of any night security beyond some cameras which might, or might not have worked. I assumed they didn’t. Most of what passed for “security” in Llanfair was provided by dogs barking at strangers, and neighbours “looking out for one another.” Also known as “nosey parkers and curtain twitchers.”

  The lights were all left on. That was bad for the environment, I tutted to myself. Adam had explained to me that shops and businesses did it so that patrolling police officers could see in more easily and check that all was well.

  But, as Dean had exclaimed, what of the trees?

  Anyway, back to business. I was letting my mind wander and I should have been preparing for the task ahead.

  I pushed my hair out of my eyes and made my way around the sports centre. I knew there was a patio area at the back and it was out of sight of the car park. It seemed as good a place as any to embark on my ritual.

  I felt very funny unloading my bag. As I’d said to Maddie, I just didn’t do traditional-style rituals. But it was the only way I could think of to banish Robert Cameron properly. I didn’t know what he wanted and he couldn’t tell me. What else could I do?

  And better this way, I thought, than bringing Horatio into this
.

  I worked quickly. The rain was relentless. I laid out a circle on the slabs using some thin rope and set out the four quarters. I didn’t have the traditional tools of a witch such as the athame but I pushed my concern aside. I just had to get on with this. True magic came from within anyway, I reminded myself.

  My hands shook and it wasn’t just from the cold. I had scribbled out the words I needed to say on some scraps of paper but they were dissolving in the ceaseless rain. I called up the elementals as best I could and welcomed them to the space.

  Something felt wrong.

  Outside of the circle, things were gathering. I couldn’t tell if Robert Cameron was one of those things but I hoped so. I began to call him, very deliberately.

  I had a smaller circle within this one. I had forgotten to cut the rope into two, so I made the second inner circle by looping the rope around from the outer one. I assumed that would be okay.

  I assumed wrong.

  I moved around the circle, visiting each quarter. Earth, Water, Fire, and Air. In my hand I had a battered old oak wand, a gift many years ago from a shaman who had worked with me for a while as he travelled through Wales. I wished Harkin was with me.

  I called the ghost into the inner circle and with a smacking sound like a wet cloth on rock, he was there.

  “Robert Cameron, I mean you no harm,” I said. “But it really is time for you to go.”

  His form materialised and he looked angry. Furious, even. He pointed at the sports centre, then at himself. And then, menacingly, at me.

  I began to work the spell, reading as best I could from the smeared words on the paper. I stumbled over some of the phrases. I wasn’t used to speaking aloud in this kind of work, either.

  The ghost began to batter on the invisible fence around him. I kept circling, widdershins.

  He kept pace with me, spinning in a circle.

  Then he came to the bit where the ropes crossed.

  He stopped, and he smiled. My heart bounced in my chest. I had imagined the two circles as a figure of eight shape but now I saw it as something very different.

  It was the sign for infinity, folded in on itself. It was endless. And it wasn’t a secure circle.

  He began to pull at me. I leaned back, wondering how on earth I was going to plug that gap. I was halfway through the ritual. What would happen if I stopped now? I should just undo the circle and release him, but we were in the same circle and it would leave me too vulnerable to the gathering forces outside.

  I gripped the oak wand with both hands and pleaded with the steadfastness of the tree to aid me. I called out to Harkin and my own spirits and the spirits of Llanfair and those I rode with at night, on the hedge and the edge and I called desperately and I could feel things respond to me.

  But not everything that heard my call was benevolent.

  It was the risk I had to take.

  The oak wand in my hands was almost red-hot now and still I held on. An image flashed into my mind. I saw the oak carving of the harp that I had given, so rashly, to Iolo Pritchard.

  And his voice came into my head. “You stupid child.”

  I thought I was imagining it. It was exactly what he would say to me, after all.

  Then I realised that he really was talking to me.

  “I can hardly come to your aid,” he said in my mind. “Not even through the power of the mighty oak.”

  Something pressed down on me, between my shoulder blades. I staggered.

  “What do I do?” I called.

  A wind was rising and whirling around us. The ghost of Robert Cameron came right up to my face.

  Finally, he had found his voice. “I will not go. My place is right here.”

  I screamed out, “But what do you want me to do?”

  “Release me!”

  There were too many evil things outside us around the circle now. I could barely hear my own voice. “Mr Pritchard, please!”

  “Call those nearer to you,” he said, and I could feel the crossness in his voice.

  “I tried. Help me!”

  “You’re not used to saying that, are you?” I even heard him laugh.

  Now was not the time for great personality revelations like that. “Please,” I whispered.

  I actually heard him sigh. “I will lend you my strength, such as it is,” he said. “Who do you need to call?”

  Who did I really need?

  Adam was my first thought but I didn’t think that blue flashing lights and a screaming siren would make any impact here.

  “Maddie,” I gasped. “I need Maddie.”

  Twenty-nine

  “I remember her,” I heard the druid say though his voice was faint as he began to bend his will elsewhere.

  That left me almost alone with the raging wind that was battering my failing circle.

  And then there was something out there that had scared off the worst of them. It padded around on four hairy legs. I thought it seemed wolf-like though it could only have been a primal memory of wolves made real by magic of some kind. There had not been wolves in Wales for centuries. Perhaps it was just a very big, grey dog.

  It loped around and its face was split in a red grin showing sharp teeth.

  Then it spoke to me, directly into my head.

  “Look at you, pretty girl, all trapped by things you called to yourself, how lovely!”

  “Who are you?”

  “I am who I am. Who are you?”

  “You know me or you wouldn’t be here,” I said. The wind that was whipping around us had lightened slightly. The wolf stopped pacing and it looked at me with eyes that I recognised.

  I said, “You’re Rachel Harris! You are a shapeshifter. I did suspect as much.” For a moment, wonder overtook my fear. This was a different thing to what I did as a hedge-rider. I may have taken on attributes of birds when I flew between the worlds but I didn’t bring them back to this world. A shapeshifter like Rachel, however, could literally assume the form of an animal, or that is what I understood. I had never actually met one, and had half-thought they had just been a myth.

  Clearly not.

  “You didn’t think a thing,” the wolf said. Its pink tongue licked its lips. “And I am not Rachel Harris.”

  “You are. You have her eyes.”

  “Oh no,” said the wolf, laughing in my head. “She has my eyes. It is a two-way thing, this borrowing of another’s body, and leaves neither one unchanged, you know. She gains strength and I gain wisdom. And though she may be travelling with me and helping me to speak with you, she is not me and she is certainly not controlling me.”

  My mouth went dry. That was great. A wolf was bad enough but an uncontrolled one was just the worst.

  “So, what do you want from me?”

  The wolf began to walk again. Its head was held low, and the shoulders rippled with power. It was in stalking mode. “Rachel wants you to stop. I want to have some fun.”

  “Oh god no, Rachel, you have to get control here.”

  “She says she wants you to stop. But she doesn’t really care, I think. Do I even think?” The wolf barked. “It does get a bit confusing, being a shapeshifting wolf. What fun!”

  A wolf, I thought, out of control and literally insane. I reached out to the druid’s presence but he was a distant feeling. The winds picked up again. The wolf began to run and the circle began to fray. I stood in the centre and wondered if now was the time to begin to pray.

  The circle broke.

  Darkness rushed in at me and I flung up my hands, rooting my feet in the earth, calling in the sky from my hair and the water in my blood and the fire in my belly and every deity I had ever heard of to my aid.

  Something grey shimmered in front of me and the wolf stopped mid-leap, frozen in the air, for a long heartbeat.

  Then it was released but at an angle and it slammed to the floor to my right. It rolled over in a flurry of legs and then got upright, snarling.

  But between me and the wolf stood the fully materialise
d ghost of Robert Cameron.

  The druid came back to me then. The strain in his voice was tight as he said, “I have called her and she will come…”

  “Thank you. You must go!”

  “You need me.”

  “You mustn’t put yourself in danger,” I said. “Please. You’ve done so much for me.”

  “You are a stupid girl…” I heard him say, faintly, as he retreated.

  I longed for him to stay but it would have endangered an old man and that was not right. I had to do this on my own.

  No. Not on my own.

  “Robert?” I said. “Mr Cameron?”

  “Call me Robert.”

  Then he waved his hand at the wolf. “You, too. Rachel. Call me Robert.”

  I fell to my knees.

  Thirty

  The wolf roared. At first I thought it was attacking us but it kept its feet on the ground. A blackness descended on it and I realised it was shifting its shape. My curiosity was aroused. What would it look like when it transformed from one shape to another?

  Let me just tell you that it was a good thing I had a relatively empty stomach.

  The mist, the darkness and the rain was a blessing as it obscured my view of the twisting sinew and bulging skin and I realised, then, I really didn’t want to watch. Being a shapeshifter looked painful. I’d stick with hedge-riding, thank you very much.

  Then I was treated to such a vision that I nearly laughed with the obviousness of it.

  Rachel Harris stood there in the rain, and she was entirely naked.

  Of course she would be. The wolf hadn’t been wearing clothes, had it?

  She stared at me, her chin raised up defiantly, as if she had been dressed in a power suit and high heels. She had no shame about her body, and quite frankly, she had every right to be proud of it.

  I stopped staring at her abs. She had abs! My brain was screaming. Actual abs! I thought they were a myth on people. Well, who knew?

  “Robert,” Rachel said, and her voice did not hold the fury that I had expected it to. “Dad?”

  He shook his head. “Barry did a good job in raising you and he is a fine and decent man. He is your dad.”