Murder Of A Werewolf (A Brimstone Witch Mystery Book 1)

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Murder Of A Werewolf (A Brimstone Witch Mystery Book 1) Page 13

by Fernsby, April


  It was time for me to perform my first magic spell.

  Chapter 23

  We headed back across Brimstone town square, and as we did so, I could feel heads turning to watch us.

  I said to Stanley, “We’ve been back and forth across this town square all day. We’re not very professional are we? I bet Gran and Oliver don’t do this back-and-forth thing. They probably find their suspects immediately, and get to work with their investigation. Everyone is watching us and probably wondering what we’re doing. I feel such a twit.”

  Stanley said, “We’re still new to this business. I’m sure we’ll get the hang of it soon. Don’t pay any attention to anyone else’s opinions.”

  “I’ll try.”

  I tried not to care as we were blatantly gawped at as we hastened across the square, but it was more difficult to ignore the pointing and the sound of laughing. How rude.

  As we headed past the butterfly tree on the cobbled road, I gave it a quick inspection and saw the butterflies were in the very same position as they had been earlier with their wings closed.

  I said to Stanley, “If I’m to take on the memories of one of the butterflies, how will I know which one to focus on?”

  “I’ve no idea. Let’s leave that to your gran to sort out.”

  We hurried through the cellar door, and I was relieved to close it behind us. I’m sure I could hear jeering now.

  We found Gran in the kitchen, thankfully nearer the floor than the ceiling this time. She was sitting at the table doing a crossword puzzle. I sat opposite her and told her what Mrs Merryweather had said. Stanley jumped onto my knee and added the bit about him lapping up the double cream.

  Gran gave me a sharp look when I mentioned the spell for the butterfly. She said, “Mrs Merryweather shouldn’t have mentioned that to you. It’s a dangerous spell, and it’s only for witches with advanced education.”

  “Why is it dangerous?”

  Gran explained, “When you take on someone’s memories, they could be highly painful memories which could implant themselves into your brain. You would then think the memories are part of you. I’ve known this happen to witches and it changed their lives entirely. And not for the better. The other thing is that you could take on the physical attributions of the creature you’re connecting with. Cassia, you could turn into a butterfly forever, and there would be nothing I could do about it.”

  I considered the matter. “Being a butterfly wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I wouldn’t have to worry about paying my mortgage.”

  Gran said, “Don’t be flippant about it. I’ve seen this happen more than once, and it’s not something I want to happen to you. I prefer you as you are.”

  I wouldn’t let the matter drop and continued, “You’re an experienced witch. If you were at my side guiding me through the spell, would it work?”

  Gran hesitated. “We could do a weaker spell, but there’s still an element of danger. The good thing about the Brimstone butterflies is that they have a collective consciousness and we wouldn’t have to use the actual butterfly who delivered the message to Jonathan. One of the other butterflies could have a weaker memory of that incident.” She tapped the kitchen table while she thought about it. “Yes, we could do that. Henry would be the best butterfly to use.”

  “Henry? I didn’t know the butterflies had names.”

  “Of course they’ve got names. Why wouldn’t they? Henry is the butterfly I use most often to deliver my messages. I suspect he’s the one who came to your office that day to let you know I’d been injured. He must have been nearby when I called out for help and recorded my voice. He’s highly intelligent. Goodness knows how he found his way to your office.” She called out for Oliver.

  Oliver came into the kitchen, looked at Gran and said, “You called?”

  Gran said, “Oliver, can you go and collect Henry for me, please? Take Stanley with you. Show him how to beckon the butterflies. It will be good training for him.”

  Oliver gave her a nod and said, “Will do.” He looked over Stanley and made a beckoning motion with his head. Stanley leapt off my knee and followed Oliver out of the kitchen

  I said to Gran, “Do I need to open the cellar door for them?”

  “There’s no need. There’s a cat flap in the door. Didn’t you notice it?”

  I shook my head. “No, but it does make sense to have one. What do we do now? How do we prepare for my first ever spell?”

  “You can put the kettle on.”

  “Ooo. Is there a special potion I need to mix with hot water? How exciting.” I stood up.

  Gran shook her head. “No, I’d like a coffee and I can’t be bothered doing it myself. Make yourself one too. You could do with a caffeine boost. You’ll have to keep your wits about you when we do this spell.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  I busied myself with making hot drinks for Gran and me. By the time the drinks were ready, Oliver and Stanley had returned to the kitchen. A pale yellow butterfly was resting on Oliver’s back.

  Oliver said, “I’ve explained the situation to Henry, and he’s happy to help.”

  Gran gave the butterfly a kind smile and said, “Thank you, Henry.” She looked at me. “Take a big drink of coffee while I get the spell ready in my mind. I haven’t used this spell recently, and it’s going to take me a minute or two to search for the right words.” She tapped the side of her head. “The words are in here somewhere. Hopefully.”

  I concentrated on drinking as much coffee as I could while Gran mumbled incoherently to herself. I tried to swallow my nervousness with the coffee. Was this a good idea? Then I thought about the kind things everyone had said about Jonathan. I had to help him in some way. If he had been murdered, I wanted to find out who had done it.

  Gran slapped her hand on the table and declared, “I think I’ve remembered all the words now. Right, let’s begin.”

  She looked towards Henry who was still resting on Oliver’s back. She gave him a nod and said, “Henry, fly over to Cassia.” Gran looked back at me and said, “Open your left hand and keep it steady.”

  I did so, and watched as Henry flew over to me. He landed gently in my hand. I could barely feel his weight.

  I said to Gran, “Now what?”

  “Close your eyes and clear your mind. Hopefully, the memories of the butterfly who delivered the message to Jonathan will come to your mind through Henry. Don’t fight it.”

  I gave her a small nod. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind. It wasn’t that easy to do considering Gran’s spell might go wrong and that I might turn into a butterfly forever.

  I took some deep breaths and concentrated on clearing the thoughts one by one from my mind. I felt a slight pressure on my left palm and wondered what Henry was doing to me. Was he giving me a butterfly kiss?

  I took more deep breaths and slowly, very slowly, a different feeling came over me. In my mind’s eye I see myself flying above Brimstone town square. I wasn’t at all scared, and it felt like a joyful experience. I flew right over the square and towards the forest. The tops of the trees looked amazing from this height. I carried on flying and went past the big oak tree where Jonathan had met his end. I carried on, knowing exactly where I was headed. I saw a man in the distance near a fence, and I knew it was Jonathan Tidewell.

  As I came closer, he turned around and saw me. He smiled at me and held his hand out. I landed on his open palm. There was a twitchy feeling on my back which I assumed was the written message appearing on my wings.

  I heard Jonathan say, ‘They want to meet me at the oak tree? Okay, tell them I’ll be there in ten minutes. Thank you for the message.’

  I felt the twitch of my wings again as I lifted off his palm. I flew back over the trees. As I did so, the name ‘Sarah’ came to my mind. Who was Sarah? The butterfly who’d delivered the message to Jonathan? Or the being who had sent the message to him?

  I continued soaring above the trees and then started to head down. Someone was beckoning me,
but I couldn’t see who it was, I just had a feeling I was needed.

  Downwards I went. All of a sudden, something was flung over me which dragged me to the ground. A net? My heart sped up, and terror shot through me. I could hear a mumbled voice, but I couldn’t work out where it was coming from or what they were saying. The world went dark around me, and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to burst.

  The next thing I could sense was being somewhere completely dark. I felt resistance as I tried to open my wings. It was soon obvious I was trapped somewhere. I tried to catch my breath, but it was getting harder and harder for me to breathe. I blinked into the darkness. Where was I? Panic rose in me, and I felt as if I was going to stop breathing at any second.

  I could hear someone shouting ‘Cassia’ over and over again. Then I felt a sharp prod on my arm. My eyes sprang open, and I saw the concerned face of Gran who was now shaking me roughly.

  Gran shouted, “Cassia! Breathe! Please!” She slapped me on the cheek and shouted again, “Breathe! Cassia!”

  My right hand clawed at my throat and I gasped, “I can’t! I can’t breathe!”

  Gran put her hands on the side of my face and looked straight into my eyes. “Cassia, take a big deep breath like me.” She proceeded to inhale deeply, and I tried to do the same. It was another minute before I was breathing normally.

  I looked down at my left palm and said, “Henry? Where did he go?”

  Gran explained, “As soon as I saw you in distress, I asked him to fly over to Oliver’s back. What happened to you? You were gasping for breath, and I could see sheer terror on your face.”

  I took a sip of the coffee which was now cold before telling Gran and the cats what had happened. I looked at Henry and noticed his yellow wings were firmly closed.

  “Gran, what does this all mean? And who is Sarah?”

  Gran said, “We’ll ask Henry. He can’t talk, but he can indicate yes or no with his wings.” She turned to face Henry and said, “Who is Sarah? Is she the butterfly who delivered the message to Jonathan?”

  Henry slowly opened his wings and flapped them twice.

  Gran explained, “Cassia, that means yes. One flap of his wings is no.” She carried on talking to Henry. “Has Sarah returned to the butterfly tree?”

  Henry flapped his wings once.

  The butterflies strange behaviour suddenly made sense to me. I said to Henry, “Is Sarah lost somewhere?”

  Two flaps of his wings. Yes.

  I continued, “Have all the Brimstone butterflies been looking for her?”

  Yes.

  I hesitantly asked my next question, “Is Sarah still alive?”

  Yes.

  “If she lost somewhere? Perhaps trapped somewhere?” I asked.

  Yes

  Gran said, “Poor Sarah. The butterflies must be feeling her fear and despair. That must be why they all disappeared recently; they were out looking for her. Whoever has trapped her is an evil, evil creature, and we must do our best to find Sarah immediately.”

  I nodded. “It’s obvious that whoever captured Sarah has something to do with Jonathan’s death. Gran, this is awful. What can I do about it?”

  “You have to go back to Brimstone and be more forceful with your questions. There is evil lurking in the town; the kind of evil that has never been there before. Murdering a werewolf is bad enough, but trapping one of the town’s beautiful butterflies is beyond belief.” Gran put her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. “I’ll come with you. I’ll need to take a couple of painkillers before I do. This stupid ankle is bothering me again.”

  I got to my feet. “You’re not in a fit state to help me. Gran, you need to go back to bed and rest. I can deal with this.”

  Gran looked as if she was about to argue with me, so I said more insistently, “Gran, if I’m going to be a witch and help you, I need all the experience I can get. This is something I want to do. And I’ll have Stanley with me. You have to trust me.”

  Gran gave me a helpless shrug. “It doesn’t look like I have much choice, does it? Can you help me upstairs? I’ve still got a bit of levitation potion in me so I should be able to float most of the way. Cassia, I’m still not sure about this, but I can see the determination in your eyes.”

  Oliver said, “We’d better take Henry back to the tree. Stanley, you come with me again.”

  The cats left the kitchen, and I managed to manoeuvre Gran upstairs and into bed. I put the book paperweights at the corners of the bed cover again, just in case. I gave Gran the painkillers that Dr Gilbert had prescribed. I didn’t know what was in them, but they were certainly strong as Gran was asleep within a minute.

  I went downstairs and into the living room to wait for the return of the cats. I paced about the living room and thought about what I was going to do next. I really didn’t have any idea at all and kept waiting for inspiration to strike me. It was taking its time.

  As I continued to pace, the sun shone through the window and landed on something which stopped me in my tracks. There was something catching the sunlight on the back of the sofa. I moved closer to inspect it. I saw a couple of strands of long hair lying across the sofa. I carefully picked them up and held them up to the light. The strands of hair were of a burnished copper colour.

  Anju.

  She must have been in this room. The only reason she could have been in here was to carry Gran back from Brimstone following her attack. My jaw clenched in anger. Why hadn’t she told me the second I met her? Had she sent the butterfly message to Jonathan and then murdered him? Had she attacked Gran in the hope of killing her too? Or was she covering up for the one who was guilty? Strom? Flint? Were the werewolves all covering up for each other?

  When Oliver and Stanley padded into the room, I said, “Stanley, we’re going back to Brimstone and we’re going to face that evil, conniving pack of werewolves.”

  Chapter 24

  I was furious as I headed back across Brimstone town square. I didn’t care that everyone was turning to watch Stanley and me as we stormed along. How dare Anju not tell me about Gran?

  I was still mad as I headed towards the werewolf village. My anger kept me going as I walked over to the first man I encountered in the werewolf village.

  I jabbed him on the shoulder and demanded, “Where is Anju? Is she here somewhere?”

  “What’s it got to do with you, witch? Your sort is unwelcome around here. Clear off if you know what’s good for you.”

  I jabbed him again on his shoulder, briefly noticing how hard his muscles were. “I need to talk to Anju right now. Do you know where she is or not?”

  The man snarled, “Jab me once more, and I’ll bite your fingers off.”

  “Oh yeah? Just try it.” The sensible part of my brain was trying to get through to me and was telling me to stop arguing with a big werewolf, but I ignored it.

  Stanley curled around my legs and called up, “Cassia, I can see Anju going into that cabin over there.”

  I glanced over to where Stanley was looking, and I saw Anju walking into a cabin a short distance away. I turned back to the man in front of me and attempted to give him a disparaging look. “Luckily for you, I have to go now.”

  He sneered, “Yeah, lucky for me.”

  With Stanley at my side, I walked over to the cabin Anju had entered and knocked on the door. She answered it, and I blurted out, “You’ve been in Gran’s house! I found your hair there! Why didn’t you tell me you’d been there?”

  Anju blanched, and her hands shot to her chest. In a quiet voice, she said, “You’d better come in. I can explain everything.”

  I followed her into the cabin, and even though I was still feeling angry, I took a moment to appreciate the cosiness of the interior. All the furniture had been made out of wood, and there were comfy-looking cushions everywhere. A welcoming log fire was burning in a hearth at the far side of the room. It was all very homely and welcoming. But I wasn’t in the mood to feel welcomed; I was in the mood to vent my
anger over Gran’s attack.

  Anju indicated for us to take a seat. We went over to the large sofa and sat down. It was incredibly soft, and I felt myself sinking into the cushions.

  Anju took a seat opposite us, and before I could say a word, she broke down and started to cry. My eyes narrowed. She’d cried in front of me before. I wasn’t going to be fooled by her crocodile tears again.

  She said, “Yes, it was me who took your gran back home. But I didn’t have anything to do with her injuries. I promise. I would never do that to Esther. Never. Please, you have to believe me.”

  I studied her for a moment. I could feel the genuine remorse coming from her. All my anger vanished, and I shuffled along the sofa until I was able to pat her on the arm.

  When Anju had composed herself, she said, “I was near the oak tree when Esther was injured. I heard a cry of pain, and when I went to investigate, I found her unconscious on the ground. I couldn’t leave her there, so I picked her up and took her to her house. I used the back paths to get to the door so that I wasn’t seen by anyone in Brimstone. Jonathan had spoken to me many times about his human life, and I knew how much you humans rely on doctors. I knew that’s what I had to do for Esther. I put her on the sofa and soon found the doctor’s telephone number.” She gave me a wry smile. “I’ve never used a telephone before, and it took me a while to work out what to do. I waited at Esther’s side until the doctor arrived. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you this earlier.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s illegal for me to enter your world. If Blythe had found out, I could have been sent away from my pack.” She gave me a searching look. “Cassia, it wasn’t me who hurt Esther. Honest.”

  I wasn’t sure I fully believed Anju’s story yet. She did seem genuine, but that could mean she was an expert liar. I couldn’t quite read her feelings.

 

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