My heart sank all the way down to my feet, and they felt like lead as I was forced down the street. “Yes, I remember Blythe.”
Chapter 5
Blythe was a three-hundred-year-old witch. She was in charge of Brimstone. She ruled with a steely-eyed fairness. She never missed a trick. She always knew when someone was up to no good.
Unfortunately.
It had been Blythe who’d discovered Luca and I were behind the butterfly incident. She’d reprimanded us in front of the town. I still remembered the deep shame of it. I had trembled in front of her, but Luca had held my hand throughout the ordeal. Blythe gave us our punishment in front of the town too. We had to go around to each and every citizen and apologise profusely for all the messages we’d sent via the butterflies. There were hundreds of citizens, and it took us days.
If that wasn’t bad enough, we had to then apologise to each and every butterfly. There were thousands of butterflies. But we had to deal with our punishment and Luca and I tirelessly started our apologies. We’d been saying sorry for two straight days, and my voice was barely audible. Blythe must have felt sorry for us at that stage. She told us to apologise to the butterfly trees one-by-one rather than the individual butterflies. There are fifty-five butterfly trees in Brimstone Vale. I’ve talked to the residents of each one personally.
My mouth lifted slightly at one side. It had been worth it. Luca and I had sat inside the gazebo that wonderful day when the butterfly chaos happened. We laughed until we gave ourselves stomach ache.
Gran nudged me. “Take that guilty look off your face. I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but I’ll bet it’s nothing good.”
I immediately straightened my lips into a thin, serious line.
We walked along the street and turned left at the first crossing. A huge house faced us. It was Blythe’s house. It was the largest building in Brimstone. One of the perks of being in charge, I suppose.
Blythe’s house is built of red brick with a pale red-tiled roof. I don’t know what the bricks were made of but tiny flecks of gold shone out and it gave the house a shimmering look, almost like a heat shimmer. The house had a dreamlike aspect as if it was a figment of your imagination and could disappear in the blink of an eye. I suppose that’s one of the benefits of being a three-hundred-year-old witch. You could have a magical house that sparkles and twinkles.
You’d think a three-hundred-year-old witch would be as wrinkled as a prune. Perhaps with a bowed back and an evil glint in her beady eye. Maybe she’d have the obligatory green wart on the end of her nose, complete with a few stiff hairs on her chin.
Blythe isn’t like that.
The door to the twinkly house opened, and Blythe stepped out. I was immediately reminded of how mouth-droppingly beautiful she is. If that’s even an expression. But that’s what happens when people meet her for the first time. Their mouths drop open and their eyes widen as if they’re unable to take in her beauty. Blythe has long, raven-black hair which flows over her shoulders in perfect waves. Her skin is radiant, and her plump mouth is always ready to smile – although, she didn’t smile when she told Luca and me off. She’s tall and slim and wears flowing clothes in many shades of purple. To match her eyes. Yes, she’s got purple eyes. A light, beautiful shade of purple.
Those purple eyes now twinkled at me as she came to a stop. Her voice was warm as she said, “Cassia. You’re a wonderful sight for sore eyes. My! Look at how you’ve grown. You’re almost as tall as me.” She studied me closer and then turned to look at Gran. “Esther, you were right about her. You were right to bring her here.”
Gran gave Blythe a slight incline of her head. “I should have brought her here years ago. I just hope it’s not too late.”
“Too late for what?” I asked.
Blythe turned her purple eyes my way. She put her arm around my shoulder. “We’ll discuss this inside. You never know who’s listening to our conversation.”
I looked behind me half expecting to see a group of people with their heads cocked in our direction. The only person I saw was a slim man with extremely pointy ears. He looked like an elf. Or some foolish man trying to look like an elf.
Blythe led us up the glittering path and into her house.
As soon as I entered, something weird happened to me. An enormous variety of memories swooped into my head. One by one. One after the other. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Severe pain accompanied each memory and I let out a cry. It was a good job Blythe still had her arm around me, otherwise I would have collapsed to the floor when my knees gave way.
Blythe caught me in my faint, whipped me into her arms as if I weighed nothing, and took me into her large living room. She settled me on the sofa in a half-sitting position.
Blythe placed a hand on my forehead and said to someone behind her, “Pink lemonade, Brin, please. And quickly. Thank you.”
Brin. I knew that name. I flinched as another memory crashed into my brain.
Blythe smoothed my hair back. “Let the memories come, Cassia. Let them in. Don’t fight them. This will be over before you know it.”
“But it hurts,” I said. I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks. I felt stupid for crying over such a silly thing. But it really did hurt.
Gran pulled a padded stool over to the sofa and sat down. She took my hand and said, “You’ve been suppressing the memories for too long. This is all my fault. I should have done something about this years ago. I should have reminded you of your true nature. Look what I’ve done to you. You’re a mess! A broken, crying mess.”
“Thanks,” I muttered. A fresh spasm of pain attacked me. It was like someone had opened my skull up and was dropping sharp bits of plastic into it.
There was the sound of feet walking into the room, an exchange of quiet words and then a glass of something pink and bubbly was pushed towards me from Blythe.
“Drink this,” she ordered.
I did so. An immediate feeling of peace came over me. The pain vanished, and I blinked in surprise. I took another drink, and a happy feeling bubbled in my stomach. I smacked my lips together and was about to take another drink when Blythe whipped the glass away.
I reached out for it. “I’d like some more, please.”
Blythe shook her head. “Brin must have made it extra strong. It’s got herbs and a secret ingredient in it. You’ve had more than enough.”
Gran looked at the glass and said to Blythe, “Is the secret ingredient gin?”
“No, vodka. I ran out of gin last week.” Blythe turned to someone at her side. “Thank you, Brin. Keep this for later. I might have it as my nightcap.”
I sat up straighter. “Brin! I remember.” I moved my head so I could see the small creature at Blythe’s side. I waved to the elf who was dressed in brown clothes and a white apron. “Hi, Brin! It’s me, Cassia. Hi! You’re a house Brownie. You work for Blythe! Hi!”
Brin gave me a shy wave.
Blythe said, “Brin doesn’t work for me, she works with me. Cassia, you’re very loud all of a sudden.”
I flapped my hand at Brin. “You told me about being a house Brownie when I was little. You told me how they sneak into people’s houses in the middle of the night to clean up. Ha! I wish I had a house Brownie in my apartment.” I made a shushing motion and whispered loudly, “Brin, come home with me. I’ll look after you. I know where all the best pizza takeaway places are.”
Gran made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Cassia, you’re drunk. Blythe, how much vodka was in that drink?”
I swung my feet off the sofa and grinned at Blythe. “I remember everything! Absolutely everything!” I jabbed a finger at her. “I remember you. And Brin. And Gran.” I hiccupped. “Of course I remember Gran. I never forgot Gran. I love you, Gran.”
“That’s nice to know,” Gran leant over and patted my hand. “There’s no need to shout.”
I got unsteadily to my feet and looked towards the large window at the front of the room. I could see the town square and
the gazebo. I could see the residents clearly now.
I pointed at the window. “This town is full of supernatural beings! Gran, did you know that? I can see a vampire and a werewolf. They’re having a chat. That’s nice, isn’t it? I can see a minotaur. He’s got huge shoulders. And there’s a unicorn prancing down the road. Wow. What a beautiful unicorn. And I can see little fairies flying around.” I squinted. “I’m not sure what that creature is with two heads. Hello!” I waved at the creature in question.
“Cassia! Stop making an exhibition of yourself,” Gran called out. She stood up and reached out a hand to me. She wobbled on her feet, and her other hand came out to steady herself. Pain crossed her face, and both hands went to her chest. The colour drained from her cheeks, and she collapsed back on to the stool.
I was immediately sober. Blythe and I rushed to Gran’s side.
Blythe said to Brin, “Get the room ready.”
Brin nodded and scampered away.
I looked at Blythe and said, “What’s wrong with Gran? You know what’s wrong. I can see it in your face. You have to tell me.”
Gran muttered, “Blythe, don’t tell her.”
“Esther, I have to. You know that.”
Gran flinched as she slowly shook her head. “You can’t tell her. She’s not ready.”
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” I said more roughly than I meant to. “Gran, tell me what’s wrong with you.”
Chapter 6
Blythe said, “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with your gran. She’s been working too hard, and she hasn’t rested when she needed to. Just like you. You Winter witches are the most stubborn witches I’ve ever met. And I’ve met thousands of witches.”
I was about to argue that I wasn’t a witch and that I didn’t believe in that sort of thing, but I didn’t say the words. I knew without a doubt that I was a witch and that Gran was too. It was like a veil of lies had been lifted from my mind as soon as I stepped into Blythe’s home. I’d been lying about my true nature for years, just like Gran said. What a waste of my years. But this wasn’t the time to wallow in self-pity.
I gave Gran a loving look. “Why didn’t you tell me you were doing too much? I could have helped you with the housework and the garden. I would have done all the shopping for you and all that volunteer work you do.”
Blythe said, “Cassia, I’m not talking about her work in your world. Although, it does sound as if she’s doing too much there too. I’m talking about the witch work she does here. She takes on enough work for three witches, maybe even four.”
“Somebody has to do it,” Gran said through clenched teeth. “I might need some of that pink lemonade.”
“What kind of witch work?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”
Brin came running back into the room. “The room is ready for Esther.”
“I’ll tell you everything in a minute,” Blythe said to me. “Let’s get your gran sorted out first.” She reached into her pocket. I wasn’t entirely surprised to see her retrieve a slim wand. It was the same purple as her eyes.
She aimed her wand at Gran, and her eyes narrowed slightly.
Gran let out a sigh of relief and said, “Thank you. The pain has gone.”
I said to Blythe, “What did you do? Did you put a spell on her? Did you use magic? You must have. Aren’t you supposed to use magic words? Something in Latin?”
“Shh. I haven’t finished yet.” Blythe gently raised her wand while keeping her attention on Gran.
Gran moved upwards. Her legs were bent as if she was still sitting on the stool. As she moved higher, I could see the stool was still on the ground. I blinked. Seeing your gran floating in mid-air wasn’t something you saw every day.
Gran winked at me. “Look, Cassia, I’m as light as a feather. Move out of the way.”
I did so and watched in astonishment as Gran floated past me. “Where are you going?” I asked.
Blythe answered on Gran’s behalf, “To the recovery room. Brin’s got all sorts of lotions and potions in there. Things that will take away years of stress from your gran. She’ll be a new woman when Brin’s finished with her.”
Gran ruffled my hair as she went past. “Don’t look so worried. I’ve been in the recovery room before. It’s wonderful. Brin’s potions are amazing. I’ll try and smuggle us some out.” She winked again before floating out of the room. Brin walked after her.
Blythe held her wand up for a few more seconds and then lowered it. “Esther’s in the room now. All her cares and woes will be gone in minutes along with her aches and pains. If only I could do something with that stubborn streak of hers.”
“Can’t you use magic on her stubborn streak?”
“Not on Esther. She’s too strong-willed. Like you. Take a seat. We need to talk. Are you hungry? I am.”
Blythe sat in the middle of the sofa and flicked her wand at the empty table in front of her. A selection of delicious-looking food appeared on the table. Sandwiches and cakes, scones and crisps, cucumber slices and thick chunks of chocolate. Saliva rushed into my mouth, and a tiny bit of drool escaped. A pot of tea appeared at the side of the food with two flower patterned cups.
I wiped the drool from my mouth and sat next to Blythe. My stomach rumbled, but I said, “The food looks lovely, but no, thank you. I’m not hungry.”
“Your stomach is telling me something different.” Blythe hooked a finger under a strand of my hair and lifted it towards her nose. She sniffed it. “What sort of food have you been eating? Gluten-free. Fat-free. No wheat. No sugar. Low sodium.” She dropped my hair. “Why are you eating that kind of food?”
“I’ve got allergies,” I defended myself.
“No, you haven’t.”
I tried another tactic. “Everyone eats like that. You have to watch what you eat. There’s all sorts of hidden stuff in food these days.” I pointed at the food in front of me. “There’s loads of sugar in that chocolate. And I haven’t had white bread in over a year.”
Blythe shook her head. “Why would you deny yourself such a treat? I don’t eat this kind of food all the time, but a treat now and then does you good.”
My stomach rumbled again. Traitor. I looked away from the food.
Blythe said, “Would you eat it if I made it compatible with your so-called allergies?”
I looked back at her. “Possibly.”
Blythe aimed her wand at the food. After two seconds she said, “There we are. It’s safe to eat. And there are barely any calories in it so you can go mad and stuff your face. Tea?”
“Yes, please.” I was already reaching for a cheese sandwich. I shoved it in my mouth. My tongue tingled with joy, and I closed my eyes to appreciate the savoury taste of the cheese and the softness of the bread. The suspicious side of my brain said Blythe could be lying about changing the food. But the other part of my brain said it didn’t care and pass me a chunk of chocolate.
I was soon stuffing my face, and for five minutes I completely forgot about my worn-out gran. When I did remember her, my eating slowed down, and I reached for the cup of tea that Blythe had poured for me.
I said, “Shall we check on Gran now?”
Blythe tilted her head and listened to silence for a moment. “No, she’s already recovering.” She picked up her cup of tea and gave me her full attention. “We’ll talk more about your gran soon. First, I want to hear about you and your life. Although your gran talks about you all the time, I’d rather hear from you about how things are. Begin.” She took a sip of her tea.
I took a sip of my tea too and then said, “Begin where?”
Blythe lowered her cup. “At the beginning, of course. Start from when we last saw each other. That would be shortly after the incident with the butterflies.”
My cheeks flushed warm again. I didn’t know I could feel embarrassed so many times, and over the same incident too.
Blythe’s gaze went to my pink cheeks and she smiled. “Cassia, there’s no need to feel embarrassed. It was
quite funny. Not at the time, but afterwards. I never got the chance to tell you what happened as a result of your little prank with Luca.”
I put my cup back on the table. “I know what happened. I nearly lost my voice apologising to everyone.”
“You actually did some of the residents a favour.”
“How?”
“Well, you made sure that every citizen got at least a dozen messages. Some of our more reserved and lonely citizens barely get one message a year, so for them to get a flurry of butterfly messages all in one day was a great gift. Even the grumpy dwarf who lives two mountains away was happy. He actually smiled. I didn’t think he could smile.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” I said.
“And that’s not all,” Blythe continued. “Each and every butterfly was in action that day. Some of the shyer ones don’t often take messages and they hide in the middle of the tree where no one can see them. They all got out that day, and even though some of them grumbled about being exhausted by the evening, they had a marvellous time. They still talk about that day. I think they’ve even made a song up about it.”
I settled back on the sofa. “So, Luca and I did the town a favour.”
“Don’t look so smug. You didn’t intend to do us a favour, and you know that.” Blythe put her cup down. “Why did you stop your visits to our town? I haven’t seen you since you were seven.”
My eyes stung, and I looked down at my jean-clad knees. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yes, I can see that. But I need to know.” She shuffled along the sofa. “If you’ll allow me, I can look at the memories inside your head, and that will save you having to vocalise them.”
I looked at her. “How do you do that? Are you going to aim your wand at me? Are you going to stick it in my ear or something?”
“Goodness me! Of course not. I don’t need to use my wand at all when I do magic. But it’s a beautiful wand, and I do like to show it off.” She rubbed her palms together. “I simply put my hands on your temples. It doesn’t hurt.”
Murder Of A Werewolf (A Brimstone Witch Mystery Book 1) Page 3