by J. R. Wallis
His final word was lost as the hook came flying out of Mrs Easton’s hand and up through the ‘In and Out’ and snagged Jones’s overcoat with its sharp curved end. There was very little time to react as the chain attached to the hook yanked him hard through the passageway. Thomas Gabriel and Ruby screamed his name as he travelled, but the speed and force of the journey ripped the sound of their voices clean from his ears and all he heard was the rattling of the chain.
He landed hard on the grass in the garden beside the cage, with the hook still snagged on his overcoat.
Mrs Easton looked down at him as the hook retreated back into her hand and she grinned a smile so sharp it cut his mind loose from his body for a moment. And then all at once he was fumbling with the Dark Bottle, trying to pull out the dagger in it and stand up. But, before he could do either of these things, the Witch whispered something and the long grass surrounding them shot out like tentacles and wrapped around his body, pinning him to the ground with his arms tight to his sides, rendering him motionless, except for his short, sharp breathing.
When Mrs Easton saw the Dark Bottle in his hand, his fingers around the neck, she frowned. ‘Someone’s been busy,’ she growled, walking towards him, as Jones struggled to get free.
Before Mrs Easton could take the Dark Bottle from him, a blood-curdling scream rang down out of the sky, and Thomas Gabriel came flying out of nowhere, from the ‘In and Out’, knocking the Witch back against the cage with a clang!
Thomas Gabriel rolled as he landed and stood up. He muttered some words and his fists started to glow blue, and he pointed both hands and shouted the final part of the spell.
‘Déaþspere!’ A flash of white sparks streamed from his fingers, sharpening into a long white spear that flew towards the Witch. But the point of the weapon stopped centimetres from Mrs Easton’s throat and dissolved.
The Witch cackled and waved a hand dismissively towards Thomas Gabriel, whose fists were already glowing blue again, his One Eye fluttering up out of his pocket and urging him on. But, before Thomas Gabriel could utter another word, his mouth disappeared, leaving in its place a bare patch of skin. Unable to release the charge in his fists with a command, the colour in his hands seeped away.
Thomas Gabriel felt for where his mouth might be, his eyes almost popping out of his head with the effort of trying to scream. As he looked up again, a black point of light came rushing at him from the Witch’s hand and caught him side-on as he tried to turn away. He hit the ground hard, but without a mouth there was no cry, so he fell silently. He didn’t get up. In fact, he didn’t move. His One Eye vainly tried to wake him as the shadow of a huge spider crept over him. The creature had emerged from the tall grass and now it stood over Thomas Gabriel, studying the boy, wondering what to do.
Mrs Easton brushed herself down then folded her arms and shook her head as she looked at the two boys, one caught up in the grass and the other being wrapped up in silk spun from the spider’s spinneret.
She walked towards Jones, her eyes fixed on the Dark Bottle in his hand. But, before she reached the boy, something else came flying from the ‘In and Out’, just missing her head, and landed in the grass in front of the cage.
Mrs Easton whirled round to see what it was. A silver revolver lay on the ground.
‘Cooking and eating these folk wrapped in foil is going to put on a few pounds, isn’t it?’ said the gun. ‘Not such a good idea at your age. I mean, who are you kidding? You’re not the woman you were, not even your Wiccacraeft can hide it. You can’t keep time at bay for ever, not even a Witch like you. The wrinkles get deeper eventually. The hair turns greyer, the double chins turn into triples—’
Mrs Easton growled like an angry bear.
‘Hmm, looks like someone’s got anger issues. You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack if you’re not careful.’
Mrs Easton shouted a stream of words and pointed an arm which this time stretched out like a piece of gum until her hand grabbed the gun and started to squeeze it, making it buckle and bend.
‘Ow,’ roared the gun. ‘Ow.’ And then it shouted at the top of its voice, ‘Behind you, love!’
The Witch felt something hit her in the back, and the last thing she heard before everything went black was the gun shouting, ‘Told you!’
‘One . . .’ counted Ruby nervously as she knelt beside Jones bound up in the grass . . .
‘. . . two . . .’ she shouted as she felt the Slap Dust still ringing in the palms of her hands . . .
‘. . . three . . .’ she said as she withdrew the dagger from the Dark Bottle that Jones was holding . . .
‘. . . four . . .’ she said calmly at the blurry circle in front of her . . .
‘. . . five . . .’ she whispered as Mrs Easton came hurtling back through towards her.
Ruby held up the dagger and speared the Witch with the end of the blade as they collided. The force knocked her off her feet and Ruby landed on her back on the grass with Mrs Easton on top of her.
She could smell the Witch’s foul breath. See right into her eyes. And, for a moment, Ruby wondered if the dagger deep in the Witch’s heart was going to work.
‘Ruby Jenkins,’ gasped Mrs Easton.
‘That’s Ruby Jenkins the Badlander, actually.’
The Witch gasped again and began to tremble. The tremble grew into a wobble and then her whole body began to swirl as if she was made of smoke. Ruby heard a very faint scream as the formless, swirling shape that was now Mrs Easton was sucked down into the open Dark Bottle still in Jones’s hand.
Other things were sucked down into it too . . .
. . . the giant spider standing over Thomas Gabriel . . .
. . . another one that was lifted out of the tall grass.
The oven went too.
And out the house came Poppets, screaming as they flew through the air . . .
And the cage was swallowed up too, leaving behind two figures wrapped in foil.
Thomas Gabriel’s mouth returned and he shouted with joy as he tore apart the threads of silk binding him. The revolver, having returned to its normal shape, started hollering too.
The grass wrapped around Jones released him and he set down the Dark Bottle as he stumbled to his feet and rushed over to his mother and father. He watched them slowly opening their eyes, blinking in the sunlight, waiting to see how they were as an inky black cloud uncoiled from each of their mouths and sailed towards the Dark Bottle.
‘Not too shabby for a girl, right, Jones?’ said Ruby, dusting herself down.
Jones gave her a thumbs up and nodded. Before he could say anything, a blurry hole formed in the air and Victor Brynn came hurtling through and landed on the grass. The No-Thing just had time to grin his pointy, black-toothed smile before his body convulsed and a black billowing cloud was sucked out of his body through his mouth. Just like Mrs Easton, the cloud swirled round and round in the air before being pulled down into the Dark Bottle.
Victor Brynn lay on the ground, blinking up at the blue sky. He was no longer a No-Thing but a man again. His teeth were not pointed and black. His bald head was now covered in grey hair. His face glowed with a healthy pink colour.
Victor Brynn propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Ruby and Jones and they could see that his brain was ticking over.
‘We killed Mrs Easton!’ shouted Ruby. ‘All her Wiccacraeft is going into the Bottle. It looks like it even brought you back to cure you too.’
Victor Brynn nodded. ‘That Dark Bottle is stronger than any magic you can do,’ he said and smiled as he watched the Dark Bottle absorbing more and more of Mrs Easton’s Wiccacraeft. ‘Thank you,’ he shouted to Ruby and Jones as a whole mass of cakes came flying noisily out of the house in a great cloud of colour and was sucked down into the Bottle. When Jones saw more inky black clouds come sailing over the wall surrounding the garden, he knew the other people Mrs Easton had cursed must have been saved from the Witch too.
‘What about my parents?’ asked Jones.
‘Are they going to be all right? Will they recover from the Witch’s curse?’
Victor Brynn nodded. ‘I can help them. But you need to cancel your spell on me whilst you have the chance.’ He pointed at the blurry circle in the air in front of him and Jones rushed towards Ruby with his hand outstretched.
THREE MONTHS LATER . . .
THIRTY
Thomas Gabriel smoothed back his hair in a ridiculous quiff as he studied his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He struck a couple of poses, making sure he looked good from all angles. Satisfied, he checked his teeth too. Gave them a rub with his finger. They looked good. In fact, all of him looked good. He nodded admiringly as his One Eye swooped down from the top of the mirror and landed on his shoulder.
Thomas Gabriel winked at himself before he turned round and reached for his herringbone coat, lying on the bed. As he put it on, he patted the right-hand pocket to check for The Black Book of Magical Instruction. He never went anywhere without it now. Because it had saved his life, he considered it his lucky charm.
Taking it out, he ran his finger over the leather-bound cover, exploring the tiny crater where the blast of Mrs Easton’s magic had hit. Somehow the book had absorbed the full force and stopped it going through into his body. All he had felt was a jolt so hard it had knocked him to the ground. The next thing he remembered was looking up at a huge spider.
He kept the Dark Bottle on his desk as a memento of everything that had happened. It would no doubt strike fear into the hearts of any apprentice he eventually took on. They would worship him for it.
As he let himself out of the house, he took a deep breath. The night air had the usual drone of traffic noise wafting through it. Thomas Gabriel found it comforting, not just because it was always there like an old friend, but it made the streets seem alive, ready and waiting for him to come and explore them. He couldn’t understand how Ruby was so comfortable with the quiet of the countryside.
Putting up his collar to keep out the chill of the air, he walked on down the street, alert for anything that might be lurking in the Badlands of Hampstead tonight, his One Eye flitting like a bat in front of him.
Ruby was out in the Badlands too. She was lurking in the dark beside the whitewashed wall of a thatched cottage she knew well. As she looked back down the drive, she imagined the ordinary girl she’d been once, struggling to ride over the gravel on her bike, not knowing Maitland was about to appear, followed by Jones – the boy with one name who’d changed her life. And how it had changed. Now she had her own house where everything worked with magic because Thomas Gabriel had wanted her to have it as a ‘thank you’ for saving his life.
She’d received most of the money that Maitland had left for Jones too because he hadn’t wanted any of it, but Ruby had made him take some. It meant she could buy pretty much anything she wanted although there was really no need for much. The garden produced far more fruit and vegetables than she could eat on her own. All she ever spent money on was the occasional bill from the baker or butcher in the nearest village who sent over the odd delivery, no questions asked, just as they had done when Maitland was alive. Jones had tried to give her the VW van too. But, as he’d handed over the keys, she’d seen his hand shaking, so she’d told him that teaching her to drive when she was ready wouldn’t mean he was still a Badlander, just that he was being a friend. He’d grinned at that and put the keys back in his pocket.
‘Remembering the first time around?’ whispered the gun in her hand.
‘Something like that.’
Ruby crept down the path beside the cottage and continued on beside the fence until she reached the door.
‘Careful,’ whispered the gun.
Ruby nodded as she lifted the latch. All her senses were alive. Opening the door, she saw the lawn in front of her. Sitting cross-legged in the centre of the grass was a man wearing a dark suit with his back to her. He was looking up at a sharp-pointed crescent of moon.
‘Moon-bathing,’ whispered the gun. ‘I told you there was something about this place. Careful now,’ it said as she stole quietly across the grass.
When Ruby was just metres away, the man looked round, a look of surprise on his face as he took in the girl and her gun that was currently pointed at his face.
‘Evening,’ said the revolver.
The man blinked. Ruby could see his brain trying to work out what was going on.
‘Just to clear things up. I am a Badlander.’ But the man just looked more confused. Ruby sighed. ‘I’ve killed a Witch, you know, a Wretch, blah-blah-blah. So, I’m not afraid of you, mister man. Whatever you are.’ Her finger tightened on the trigger.
‘Don’t shoot,’ he said quickly.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I can tell you something every Badlander would want to know about this place.’
‘Go on.’
But, before the man could say anything, a third person emerged out of the dark. A man. Grey-haired. Wearing a dark overcoat. He tutted loudly and shook his head.
Ruby sighed. ‘What’s wrong now?’
Victor Brynn hefted the large axe he was holding higher onto his shoulder. It had become his weapon of choice after Ruby and Jones had cancelled their spell on it. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt such kinship with it, and had been wondering about researching the effects of magic on people and objects affected by the same spell.
He cleared his throat. ‘Before conversing with any creature, you should bind it securely.’ He pointed to the silken rope hanging from her waist. ‘I didn’t give you that rope as a fashion item.’
‘But—’
‘Ruby, what’s the point in me teaching you things if you don’t do them?’
‘But there’s so many rules.’
‘And rules save your life.’
Ruby sighed. She started to bind the other man’s arms behind his back. ‘Sorry about this. We’re still figuring out the whole teacher-pupil thing.’ She leant in as she pulled the rope tight. ‘You wouldn’t think I’m the one who saved his life,’ she whispered.
Jones was sitting on the doorstep of his parents’ house, the street lights throwing down cones of yellow light, when Thomas Gabriel turned up.
‘Still can’t sleep?’ he asked and Jones shook his head. ‘It’s bound to take some getting used to after working with Maitland. At least you look like an ordinary boy.’ Thomas Gabriel frowned. ‘I still can’t get used to seeing you with your new haircut or without your overcoat.’
‘I’ve had to get used to a lot more than that.’
‘Like what?’
‘My new name for starters. And all the things people use. How they speak. What they do.’
‘But you like it?’
‘Yeah.’
Thomas Gabriel looked at him and wondered if he was telling the truth. ‘What about school?’ he asked.
‘It’s not as hard as learning to be a Badlander. The teachers ain’t as strict. And it’s not as dangerous either.’
‘And no one’s asked any more questions about you? Where you’ve come from?’
Jones shook his head. ‘I’m good at making up stories if anyone asks why I was adopted. Ruby taught me what to say. And my mum and dad don’t mind telling people that’s how they got me. I think they’re just so happy to have me back. They want to feel like normal people again.’ Jones shrugged. ‘I think they’re slowly improving, anyway. At least from how they were at the start.’
‘Wasn’t pretty, was it?’
‘No.’ Jones sighed. ‘Victor Brynn’s potions have helped a lot, though, and I keep explaining things to ’em about the Badlands so they don’t feel like they’re losing their minds. It’s going to take time, though.’
‘Are they still having nightmares?’
‘Yeah. I hear ’em. And not sleeping much means they argue a lot.’ He sighed, shuffled his feet and hung his head.
‘Mrs Easton cursed them for a long time,’ said Thomas Gabriel, sounding slightly concerned. ‘No one really knows w
hat the long-term effects of a Witch’s Wiccacraeft are on acolytes. There aren’t any books on it. Not many people survive.’
Jones nodded and then smiled as something occurred to him. ‘Love helps with anything bad, I reckon. At least, that’s what Ruby told me.’
‘Any problems, let me know. I’ve got the Order keeping an eye on me and my territory now I’m not an apprentice any more. Apparently, if you lose your Master, you’re on probation for the first few years after you Commence. I have to go to classes to replace everything Simeon would have taught me. I think some of the old Badlanders are jealous. It’s a prime patch. And I got Maitland’s house too because of the way the Ordnung works, seeing as you and Maitland are both dead.’ He grinned as he thought about that. ‘But I see the way the older ones look at me sometimes. They’re watching. Waiting for me to trip up.’
‘What about your Commencement?’
‘What about it?’
Jones shrugged. ‘Just wondering, that’s all.’
‘I need to get to work,’ said Thomas Gabriel, standing up as if the last question had annoyed him. When they shook hands, Thomas Gabriel looked into Jones’s eyes. ‘Any problems with your parents at all, tell me. Okay?’
After Thomas Gabriel had left, Jones crept back into the house and shut the front door. He stood in the quiet dark of the hallway. He reminded himself he wasn’t on the lookout for a creature now, that there was no reason to hunt through the house for anything beastly or dangerous. But some habits were hard to break.
He made his way upstairs to his bedroom. A couple of days earlier he’d slipped into Deschamps & Sons and bought the largest scrying mirror he could find with all the money he had left. It was full-length and encased in oak. It was going to be a difficult item to wrap, but he was determined to do it. The tag was already written out. It read: