Star Witch (The Lazy Girl's Guide To Magic Book 2)

by Helen Harper

  ‘No way. I’m not doing it.’

  He looked up. ‘Are you complaining that you have to work for thirteen hours or that you have to work?’

  ‘It’s slave labour!’ I protested. ‘No one should have to work for that length of time. Even Order geeks probably don’t…’ My voice faltered when I saw the expression on his face. I gritted my teeth. ‘Fine.’ I’d just have to seek out a quiet corner where I could snooze for a few hours each afternoon. If all I was doing was ‘running’, that shouldn’t be too hard.

  Winter took out two pieces of paper. ‘Here are Benjamin Albert’s details. It’s your job to find out more about him and whether his death is connected to the show itself or to anything magical. If you can find evidence of the latter, the Order can get involved. You’ll also need to keep any eye out for any suspicious behaviour, particularly involving the remaining contestants. We can’t have anyone else getting hurt. Check out the crew. I have details here about all of them and basic information on their backgrounds. We’ve not uncovered anything worrying yet – but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.’

  I stared at him. ‘I assume you want me to have time to eat and breathe as well.’

  ‘Don’t be facetious.’ He pointed to yet another piece of paper. There was a photograph in the right-hand corner. I craned my neck, catching a glimpse of a man in his thirties and who was wearing a witch’s hat of all things. I grinned. I knew instantly who he was.

  ‘This is Trevor Bellows,’ Winter explained. ‘He’s the magical consultant for the show. Any spells are run through him and he’ll sniff you out in a second if you’re not careful.’

  ‘I know. I’m a fan of the show, remember?’

  ‘Indeed. Do you know his background?’

  I thought about it. Nope. He was obviously not much of a witch or he’d be in the Order rather than working for Enchantment. He’d always struck me as more of an actor than a magician.

  Taking my silence as an answer, Winter continued. ‘This is his official background story, which was released by the production company several years ago. He’s not an Order witch and never has been, so we have no way of knowing what his actual abilities are.’

  I put aside the long list of orders from Winter for now and focused on Bellows, glancing down at his meagre biography. ‘He grew up in Tibet? Seriously?’

  ‘His story is that his parents were seconded there by the British government.’

  I looked up. ‘You don’t believe it?’

  Winter’s lip curled. ‘We have traced him so far to Slough. It appears that the nearest he’s been to Tibet is getting his photo taken with a yak at a local petting zoo.’

  Hmmm. ‘I’m not convinced he possesses much magical ability. I’ve seen him perform a few spells in previous series but they never really amounted to much.’

  ‘As I said, we have no idea what he’s capable of. I don’t think he can do much either but, until we know otherwise, you should assume that he’s dangerous and has a battery of abilities and knowledge at his fingertips. He has, after all, been the main consultant for Enchantment for years. There must be something to his claims.’

  I frowned. ‘The target audience isn’t witches. All the magic is fairly low-level stuff which is designed to provoke loud whistles and create big bangs but isn’t really anything of substance. The challenges don’t require much in the way of magic knowledge either.’ I tapped my mouth thoughtfully. ‘For example, the big show-stopper last season when it came down to the final two contestants was to create a spell to make as many people as possible stop in their tracks and watch. One contestant designed a light show that failed epically because it was high noon and there was too much sunshine for it to make an impact. Most of what she created was simply enhanced fireworks. The other one turned the Thames pink.’ I shrugged. ‘It was more of a murky purple really.’

  Winter blinked at me. ‘And you actually watch this? Regularly?’

  ‘It’s not about the magic,’ I said earnestly. ‘People want to see showy shebangs but they prefer it when the contestants fail spectacularly and when they fall out with each other. It’s about making good television, not about who can create the best spells, regardless of what the producers might want you to think. It’s highly entertaining. You should watch it. In any case, there’s not enough evidence from the programmes themselves to suggest what Trevor Bellows can do.’

  ‘Well,’ Winter said with a dismissive grunt, ‘there will be plenty of opportunity for spectacular failures and fallings-out in the Highlands of Scotland.’

  ‘That’s where the expedition is happening?’

  He nodded. ‘I’m still working on a way to regularly debrief you.’ He reached into his pocket and took out a neatly folded map. Jabbing at what looked like a massive mountain, he started to explain. ‘Most of the filming is taking place here but there’s a small village where the crew will be based.’ Winter squinted. ‘Tomintoul. It looks like it’s pretty.’

  ‘It looks like it’s in the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘It is supposed to be the wilderness, Ivy.’

  I wrinkled my nose. I’d been hoping for the sort of wilderness that involved a tropical island with swaying palm trees and butlers carrying multi-coloured drinks with mini-parasols in them. Up a freezing mountain in the Scottish Highlands didn’t sound like my kind of thing.

  ‘Anyway,’ Winter continued, ‘in Tomintoul, there’s a small square. Each night, at the stroke of midnight, we will meet there and you can tell me what you’ve discovered.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ I said slowly. ‘You want me to start work at 5am. As a runner. I’ll be on duty for thirteen hours. And then you expect me to come and find you at midnight?’ My voice was getting higher and higher.

  ‘It’s the safest way.’ He checked the map again. ‘Everyone else will be tired out and sleeping by that time, so there’s no chance you’ll be seen.’

  ‘I’ll be tired out! I’ll need to sleep!’ I shook my head. ‘Nope. I’ve changed my mind. Get the Ipsissimus back here. I’m going to stay at home instead.’ I patted the sofa. ‘I’ll stick to the original plan and watch it from here then report in afterwards by telephone.’

  The tiniest smile played around his lips. It was the first time since he’d shown up tonight that he’d looked at me with anything other than irritation, annoyance or downright disdain. ‘You did say you were willing to put in the effort.’

  I growled at him. ‘I can change my mind. It’s a lady’s prerogative.’

  ‘Too late. We’re counting on you now, Ivy.’ There was a faintly mocking edge to his words.

  I narrowed my eyes. ‘Have I done something to annoy you?’ I asked. ‘We were getting on well last time I saw you.’ I softened my voice. ‘Very well.’

  ‘What could you possibly do that would annoy me?’ Winter’s fleeting amusement vanished and he glanced down, pretending to inspect the map again.

  ‘You keep looking at me like … like…’ I fumbled for the right words. ‘Like I’ve disappointed you or something.’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Winter stood up. ‘I should go. There are still lots of preparations to put into place before filming starts.’ He pointed at the folder. ‘And you’ve got homework to do.’

  No. I wasn’t going to let this go. ‘Winter, just tell me. If you’re angry that we slept together then I’m sorry. I didn’t do it to try and compromise you or your position.’

  His jaw clenched. ‘I am not angry that we slept together.’

  Hope flickered. ‘You’re not?’

  ‘I’m not angry at all, Ivy.’

  I remained still. ‘Yes, you are.’

  Winter’s expression shuttered. For a long drawn-out moment he didn’t say anything. Finally he took a deep breath and gazed down at me. ‘I just don’t understand why you’re carrying with that Villeneuve fellow after everything he’s done to you.’

  I stared at him. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘It was obvious what was going on t
onight when we showed up. The very fact that he’s even living here…’

  I felt a flash of sudden understanding – and glorious happiness. ‘I didn’t know he’d moved here until tonight. He got into my taxi and demanded I drive him or he’d make a formal complaint. There’s nothing between us. There never will be.’ I tilted my head. ‘Were you really jealous?’

  Thinking about it now, it was clear how compromising the scene had probably appeared, considering I’d been a hair’s width away from Tarquin when the Ipsissimus and Winter showed up. Not to mention that it had probably looked like I’d been whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

  Winter turned away from me. ‘Why would I be jealous?’

  A massive smile split my face. ‘I can’t imagine.’ I touched his arm. ‘There’s nothing going on between Tarquin and me. I promise, Rafe. You’d know that if you’d been in touch since last month.’

  He grunted in response. I hoped he was going to say something else, or at the very least turn back around and face me. Unfortunately, Brutus took that opportunity to stroll back in.

  ‘Foooooooood.’

  ‘In a minute.’

  ‘Food. Food. Food. Food.’

  ‘I should go,’ Winter said quickly. He glanced over his shoulder. ‘I’ll see you next week, Ivy. Read through the files before then.’ He hesitated then turned round, leaned down his head and kissed me gently on the cheek. ‘Take care.’

  I was left standing in my own living room with my skin burning and my thoughts awhirl. Now what was I going to do?

  Chapter Three

  I took Brutus with me. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Eve to look after him while I was away so much as I didn’t trust Brutus with Eve. He was none too impressed at being shoved into his cat carrier like an ordinary cat, although he did cheer up somewhat when I informed him that we weren’t going to the vet. What I neglected to tell him was just how long it was going to take us to get to Tomintoul. All these witches around and not one of them had ever managed to make a broomstick fly. One day, perhaps.

  In any case, so that I could maintain the fiction that I was a poor non-witch willing to work nonsensical hours for the minimum wage I took the train, ostensibly travelling on my own. It was a long trip up to the north of Scotland, with several changes. It was nice to just sit back and relax. With the cart coming by every hour or so selling all manner of junk food, not to mention tea so strong you could stand up a spoon in it, I decided there were far worse ways to pass my time. Until, that was, someone came along and sat beside me after we’d passed Crewe.

  I’m not averse to people. While I’m aware that my apathetic tendencies can sometimes be mistaken for misanthropy, I’m really not that bad. I’d not be much of a taxi driver if I were. However, when I end up sitting next to a man who spreads out his legs almost as wide as they’ll possibly go, squeezing me against the window, before falling asleep with his head dropping uncomfortably onto my shoulder, I happen to get rather tetchy.

  I twice attempted to shove him away from me but, despite my best efforts, he stubbornly remained put. Even worse, when I sharply nudged him the second time, he just started to snore. It wasn’t a delicate little wheeze either. No: this man sounded like a warthog on a mission to wake up the devil.

  Brutus appeared equally disgruntled by his presence, edging out a sharp claw from inside his cage to swipe at the space-hogging fiend. He had as little effect on the man as I did which, given just how sharp my familiar’s claws were, was quite something. I shook my head. This simply wouldn’t do. I’d have knocked my lukewarm tea off the little tray table onto his lap if it didn’t seem like a terrible waste of a good drink.

  What I really needed was something organic. I’d dabbled in herblore for a week or two after my magical binding was removed, not because I enjoyed that particular strain of magic but because Winter was rather fond of it. In the end, however, it became too irritating when I never had the herbs I required to hand and I soon abandoned my efforts.

  I dug around in my jacket pockets on the off-chance that there were a few sprinkles of something still lingering around. Unfortunately they were empty apart from a twisted sweet wrapper. Then I caught sight of the crisps trodden into the floor under the seat in front of me. Not perfect but, if I got lucky, they’d be one of the more pungent flavours. I was hoping for cheese and onion. The discarded corner of an egg mayo sandwich or a few lost scampi fries would be better, but the train was just a bit too clean for that. I’d have to work with what I had.

  I stretched out one toe, arching it past Brutus’s carrier and snagging a few of the crumbs. Bringing them closer to me, which was no mean feat given just how little space I had to work with, I began drawing out the rune I required.

  It didn’t take long for the magic to do its job. I’d barely finished the rune when the most godawful reek began to rise. Rotten vegetables with an extraordinary odour of foul fish. It appeared whoever had been sitting here before me had gone one better than cheese-and-onion crisps – they’d been munching on prawn cocktail flavour. Not my snack of choice but it was perfect for this scenario.

  The smell grew into a cloud of foul air. My annoying companion choked in mid-snore and opened his eyes. Yep. It was pretty disgusting. I turned my head in his direction and looked as embarrassed as I possibly could. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I have a dodgy tummy and simply the worst case of wind.’

  The corners of his mouth turned down and he looked faintly nauseous.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I assured him. ‘It’s contagious but it rarely lasts for more than a few hours. By mid afternoon I promise you won’t be able to smell a thing and the odds of you catching it from me aren’t too bad. Five to one at worst.’ I paused. ‘Well, maybe three to one.’

  The man’s mouth tightened and he let out a guttural grunt. Then, without a word to me, he grabbed his bag, stood up and walked away to find another seat, preferably in an entirely different carriage.

  Way to go, Ivy, I grinned to myself, although the smell I’d created was becoming quite overpowering and I could see a family down the other end of the carriage looking very disturbed. I hastily cancelled out the rune, sure that the nasty odour would disappear quickly. That’s when a familiar head popped up from one of the seats and fixed me with an icy blue glare.

  ‘Manspreading,’ I called out by way of explanation. ‘It’s a recognised phenomenon but there’s very little you can do to combat it. The easiest way is to get rid of the offender as quickly as possible. The less confrontation the better.’

  Winter’s glare only grew. I guessed he was pissed off that I was talking to him directly instead of wholeheartedly throwing myself into our concocted story that we didn’t know each other.

  I shrugged. If he really thought that this production company was so thorough that they’d bother tailing a nonentity like me, then he thought too highly of them. No one would go that kind of trouble. All the same, he really didn’t look very happy.

  Deciding that this would be the perfect time to put my head down and take a nap, I leaned back into my seat and avoided looking at Winter again. But it was nice to know that he wasn’t far away.

  ***

  Winter might have said that Tomintoul looked pretty but when we finally arrived, it was difficult to make out much of anything at all. It was dark, it was cold, and there weren’t any helpful chauffeurs with limousines to pick me up and take me to where I needed to go. I wasn’t even sure where I was supposed to go, if I were being honest.

  The crowd of other passengers who’d disembarked appeared to disappear almost immediately whilst Winter strode off without so much as a glance in my direction. It occurred to me that he’d probably used his almost perfect memory to map out every street of the small town in his head. He’d have a nice little B&B set up and waiting for him. I had a heavy suitcase, Brutus and his cat carrier, and absolutely no clue.

  With no one around to ask for help, I set off at a shuffle down what looked like a main street. At that time of night,
there appeared to be nothing open. I passed a few tearooms, an art gallery and a pub that seemed to be dark and dead. Brutus growled in irritation.

  ‘I know, I know, but I can’t remember the name of the damn hotel,’ I muttered to him. My excitement at being part of the Enchantment team had long since dissipated.

  I was just about to turn on my heel and head back to the station to demand to be returned to civilisation when a young guy in his twenties ambled out from a side street, pausing to light a cigarette as he went. Feeling hopeful, despite his somewhat unkempt appearance, I trotted up to him. ‘Hello!’

  He lifted his head and looked at me, glancing up and down with an assessing eye. ‘Tourist or TV?’ he asked in a heavy Scottish brogue.

  Excellent. ‘TV!’ I beamed. ‘I’m here for the Enchantment filming but I’m not sure where the rest of the crew are staying.’ I stuck out my hand. ‘Ivy.’

  He shook it briefly but there was very little enthusiasm behind the effort. In fact I had the distinct impression that he wished I’d go away and leave him in peace. ‘Gareth.’ He raised a bushy eyebrow. ‘You important? Some TV bigwig or something?’

  ‘Of course! I’m vital to the entire production. Without me, they’d all be lost.’

  He considered this. ‘But aren’t you the one who’s lost right now?’ he finally enquired.

  Ha! Gareth was smarter than he looked. ‘You’ve got me. Between you and me, my driver didn’t show up to pick me up from the station.’ I leaned in closer and added with a dark edge, ‘Heads are going to roll.’

  He watched me for a moment. ‘Interesting choice of words,’ he murmured.

  I frowned. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because heads have already rolled. Literally.’

  Hang on a minute. ‘Are you referring to…?’

  ‘The contestants. Or, more specifically, that bloke who managed to get himself killed here just last week. There’s not been a suspicious death here in decades then, within days of your company showing up, there are body parts strewn across the Highlands.’ He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small flask before taking a swig and shuddering.