Reaper Rituals in Witchwood

by Jessica Lancaster

  “It could be her sister,” I said. “Did she give a time? A day? Anything?”

  “She said it would be soon.”

  “How soon?”

  She gave a shrug. “I tried asking, but she wouldn’t give me anything.” Petting Jinx behind the ears, she nodded to the tote. “How many did you get through?”

  “Half,” I said. “I figured we could use some for the forest.”

  “Something is telling me we shouldn’t do it tonight,” she said.

  Kicking my shoes off and letting my feet breath, I nodded. “I was thinking the same. Especially with all the police around this thing. We’d sooner be imprisoned than find out any information.”

  “I think we need to sleep on it tonight,” she said. “I don’t know what else there is to do.”

  I snapped my fingers as the TV turned on in the living room. “Well, I have a plan—”

  “The body of Milly Thompson has gone missing from the mortuary while forensics ran tests,” Martha Mandel spoke. “Currently, officers are being pulled in from across the country. More on the story later.”

  My jaw became slack, watching the woman shuffle papers on her desk. “There goes that plan.”

  Clink. The letterbox flap opened, and a letter dropped to the ground.

  “My plan was to try and see the body,” I said, heading for the letter.

  It was a plain white card with writing on the reverse.

  Your time is running out.

  -Phil

  I swallowed the hard knot in my throat, handing the card over to Cassandra.

  The Council were wanting us to have solved this entire case already, and there was a second body to add now. Just like how the police were pulling officers in from across the country, I figured the Witches Council should have been doing something similar. Cassandra and I couldn’t do this on our own—but when we did, we’d take our commendations.

  “Great,” I grumbled to myself. We were useless. We couldn’t do anything right now. We couldn’t go into the forest, we couldn’t go to the mortuary. Someone was playing chess and taking up all our moves. Someone was one-step ahead of us at each and every corner.

  “Do you think we should be worried?” she asked.

  I shrugged. Perhaps it was good to be worried over this. “I wanted to go to the mortuary,” I said. “I figured that would have been our best shot at finding out more information on whatever this was that had been acting in such a way.”

  “We can still, right?”

  “And get caught?”

  She scoffed. “We’re witches. Rules don’t apply.”

  Except they did. Just because we were witches, it didn’t mean we could do whatever we pleased, we could do a lot, granted, but if we ended up on the wrong side of the police and found ourselves arrested—ack. “Were you ever told the story about the Abbott witch?”

  “Angie Abbott?” she asked.

  I pulled the conversation into the living room where we both sat on the sofa. “Angie Abbott,” I began, “was an asset to the Council. She was strong, a powerful witch, and one day while doing something—illegal—the police got involved, she was arrested. Can you guess what happened?”

  “The Council got her—”

  “No.” I snapped my fingers. “They stripped her of her power and she died several weeks later.”

  “What? Why would they do that?”

  It was a lot to take in, her confused face squinting and puffing out into red blotches. “She was an extreme case, getting arrested is fine, but if they’re going to charge you with something, that’s when the Council are involved, and they figure they’re cutting the loses—an imprisoned witch is a loose witch—ironically.”

  She gasped. “Oh.”

  “And that is why we can’t go in all guns blazing on this one,” I said. “Small town cops and detectives, sure, they have no real power anyway—and there isn’t a news channel focused on you.”

  “Why don’t they tell you this stuff?” she grumbled.

  “Perhaps because they expect us to mentor every single detail into you,” I chuckled. “And if you do ignore the commands and end up on the chopping block, you can always run—but you’ll find yourself being hunted by another investigator.”

  “Is that what happened to—”

  “To who?”

  “The witch that got away,” she said. “Number one on their list.”

  That one, in particular, was a sore subject as I’d come close to catching her a number of times already, but it was true, she did originally start out as an investigator. “Yes,” I said plainly. “Nobody knows her names or what she looks like anymore,” I added. “But the last report I read, she was somewhere in Europe—Spain, most likely.”

  “But what was her name?” she asked.

  “Xandra,” I said, “that’s the name I knew her by when I was close to catching her.” I didn’t want to talk any more about the failed missions and cases I’d been in charge of. It was difficult to relive those memories. “It was her or one of her cronies that brought Elliott back to life.”

  “Aw, Elliott,” she said, clasping a hand over her chest. “I get it,” she said. “We can’t do anything right now.”

  “Except plan and wait.”

  She grumbled. Waiting didn’t appear to be her strong suit. “I’ll plan for tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll think of something. It will put us ahead.”

  Dun. Dun.

  The thuds came from the front door. I wasn’t interested in entertaining any more guests or any more information. I had too much going on already. There were only two people it could’ve been, Phil or Greg, and my money was on Phil—after that note card, he was probably checking in, giving us an almighty pep talk, the type the witches who assigned me tasks used to give.

  It didn’t feel like Phil—the air was still, not wispy the way he made it.

  “Greg?” Cassandra said in a grumble from the front door.

  “Don’t mind me, I’ve just come back for my gloves,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Let me go grab them for you.”

  “No bother, I can get them,” he said.

  “No, no, that’s quite okay.”

  I didn’t possess the energy I might have needed to talk with Greg—or anyone else for that matter. I snapped my fingers and slammed the living room door. I just wanted to sleep and hope tomorrow would have brought greater news, something we could use to get further ahead. With any luck, the tripwire outside the Graves’ house would have gone and we’d be on the scene.

  But now there two girls, both of them missing.

  THIRTEEN

  After the evening meal, Ivory entered the house—she squawked about the tension. I let it fall on my ears, I didn’t need to listen to someone else talk about the case with, even if I knew Ivory was quite astute and our relationship was growing apart as we no longer operated on the same nocturnal schedule.

  “What’s got your tongue?” she snapped at me as I watched the news headlines run by on the television screen. I was on the lookout for a break.

  Cassandra had already retired to her room with Jinx, most likely pouring over her brain trying to find something to occupy us tomorrow. It was her first encounter with a postcard from the Council, they could be blunt from time-to-time, but they happened frequently, especially for high-profile cases.

  “We got a new case today,” I grumbled. “A dead girl in the forest.”

  “Really? When?”

  “Today.”

  “When did she die?” she asked. “I don’t venture out into the forest as often as I’d like. I stay central, watching over the neighbours.”

  I petted the top of her head. “I know you do,” I said. “If I thought you knew anything, I would have woken you earlier this morning.”

  “I would’ve ripped your head off,” she snapped her beak.

  I knew she would have. I swallowed hard. “But there’s more to it than that,” I said. “The body went missing—bot
h of them.”

  “Both?” she grumbled. “I thought it was one.”

  “It was. Then it was two.”

  Ivory cocked her head to the television. “Now I see why you’re glued to this.” She tapped her talons on the carpeted floor. “I’ll look tonight, and I’ll wake you tomorrow if I find anything.”

  “Yes, wake me,” I said. “Even if you don’t. Just wake me. I can’t be waiting around all afternoon for you to wake up.”

  “Charming,” she squeaked back. “You don’t do yourself any favours by sleeping when I’m awake anyway.”

  Ivory soon left with hunger on her mind and a taste for whatever she could find.

  I took a notepad to bed and scribbled notes about what we’d found out and what we’d set in motion. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and the pressure to have this thing solved was weighing me down.

  Ideally, we needed to find a body to find out what we were dealing with. The whole situation was leaving us blind to any possibility. If we found out what the marks looked like, or if there were any missing organs, we’d have a ninety-per-cent chance at finding the monster at work.

  I circled the word ‘monster’ and added an ‘s’ followed by a ‘?’. It could have been a team, and Cassandra needed to be prepared for that.

  After writing and scribbling, circling, and drawing—I feel into a deep sleep, pen and paper in hand.

  The following morning, I woke to Ivory calling out my name and pulling my duvet with her beak. It felt like I’d only been sleeping for an hour, my brain was preoccupied in the time it took for me to process all the information of what had happened during the day yesterday.

  My eyes opened to see through wonky glasses sat on my face. It was rare I’d sleep in glasses, but when I did, it meant I’d been busy at work.

  “Nora,” Ivory said. “There was absolutely nothing out there,” she said. “I watched over the police officers and where they were going, but nothing. Not a single thing. Other than the mice, and they were delicious”

  Not what I’d expected. “Nothing? Not a single thing.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “What time is it?”

  “After 6 A.M. at least.” She expanded her wings inside the room. “Let me look at my watch—oh—I don’t have one.”

  Great. Sarcasm. Just what I wanted in a familiar. “I can easily replace you into something that can wear a watch,” I chuckled.

  “Over my dead body.”

  Ivory rushed off, puffing at her feathers as she walked. I wish she knew how to shut the door after herself as well. I snapped my fingers and willed it shut instead. The guide to magic from a lazy person was one of my many favourite pieces of literature inside the witch community, it was a comical piece in the Witch Post, detailing tricks and tips to live your best life the laziest way possible.

  I pulled my glasses away and put them on the bedside table. I turned in bed and instantly felt the call of slumber soothe my eyes.

  “Nora,” a knock came at the door, in what seemed like minutes later. “It’s nine,” Cassandra said.

  “Nine?” I grumbled through the grog in my throat. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I just had a couple thoughts.”

  “Well, put the kettle on, I’ll be out in five.”

  I had thoughts of my own, but this was her case and I was her mentor. My mentor didn’t interrupt in any of my cases, in fact, she was only around during the important stages, not holding my hand through every part—she had been part of the Court of Witches, before her death two years ago. There was more to my life yet, I knew it wouldn’t always be retirement or training the next generation of investigators.

  Cassandra had set a small spread of food on the table, including the tea I’d requested. She greeted me with a smile and thumped her notebook down. She wiped at her brow and sighed into the seat. “So,” she began. “I know what we need to do next.”

  “You do?”

  “I do. Don’t sound too surprised.” She opened her book and flicked through pages.

  Drinking the tea, I smiled, I was surprised, but it was a good surprise. I was excited to hear what she had to say.

  “Doing what we did to the Graves’ family home, we need to do that with the entrance and exits of the forest,” she said. “The main points. I know, these creatures might fly in and out—or whatever, but it’s somewhere to start. I also think we should get the points of where both bodies were found, and plant some around there.”

  “Good idea, but what do you have to say about the story I told last night,” I said. “Police are arresting anyone inside the forest—or at least cautioning them. Have you thought of a way around that?”

  She wagged her finger in my direction. “There’s a search party taking place,” she said. “I was watching the news after you went to bed last night, and they want to find the girl who went missing in the mortuary. They’ve organised a search party in the forest today at noon.”

  “Oh.” I smiled, a genuinely wide smile. I was pleasantly shocked to listen to the plan. It was excellent. “And we won’t look out of place.”

  Cassandra’s eyes looked me over. “Well,” she grumbled as if to insinuate I would look out of place. “I’m kidding.”

  “I like the idea, but planting the wires takes time lining them and speaking the incantation,” I said. “Not to mention, I’ll be kneeling every few minutes.”

  Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Okay, okay, okay!” I huffed, standing up from my seat. “I wonder what Greg forgot this time.”

  “His manners,” she scoffed.

  Approaching the front door, I noticed the silhouette behind the glass and the air pressure in the halfway change. It certainly wasn’t Greg. It was Cassandra’s current case manager, Phil.

  My heart let out an extra squeeze as the sight of him.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  He bared his teeth. “You’ve done nothing since I sent that letter.”

  FOURTEEN

  A scowl etched into my forehead and thinned at my lips. I slapped a hand against his chest, catching a feel for the cold skin he wore.

  I scoffed. “You’ve got some nerve.”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  “Who is it?” Cassandra asked, her voice growing closer.

  “Phil,” I said

  He wormed his way inside. “I’m just here to chat with Nora, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

  I wish she wouldn’t, but off she disappeared into her room anyway.

  He made himself comfortable in the living room, sighing into my large sofa like he owned it, resting his arms along the back.

  “So?” I said, closing the door. “What’s really going on here?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

  This was like he had always been. Carefree and careless. He never did anything if it was to the benefit of someone else. He had an angle, and he had to have been doing this for one reason or another—probably nothing good.

  “I mean, why the stress on finding out? We only just got the assignment.”

  He pulled up his trouser leg, revealing a neon blue bracelet. “I’m property of the Council,” he said. “They can’t afford witches anymore. They don’t have to pay me. They don’t have to pay any of us they pulled up from the dredges of the hell we’d be put through.”

  “Not the answer,” I said, even though it was juicy gossip. “You know something.”

  “I know that Witchwood is lively.”

  I knew that much. I knew there was more to this place, after everything that had happened. It was almost like an energy beacon was forming, and I’d need to shut it down soon, otherwise end up with a town overrun by supernatural creatures—and now, the Witches Council didn’t have the funds to afford witches to clean up the mess. They’d have to do it all on their own, and that would never happen.

&nb
sp; “What do you know about the girl?” I asked.

  “Which?” he shrugged.

  “Both.”

  He shrugged once again—getting on my nerves. “As much as you do, and we would have known more if you’d found them before the authorities.”

  “How were we supposed to know there was a second body?” I asked.

  “We didn’t know either,” he added. “But imagine if you’d been out in the forest before the police, maybe you’d have found it instead.”

  I stomped a foot down hard on the floor. “It’s been an entire day,” I said. “We’d been to the funeral home, which was a dead end—literally. Then we found out about the second body. You think we were about to risk our lives to go into that police feeding frenzy?”

  He chuckled, flashing his teeth as he wiped his tongue across the top of them.

  “Not to mention, you gave the case to the girl,” I said.

  “Because you’re no longer an investigator, Nora,” he said, licking his lips. “Which, of course, you know that means this is no longer an issue.”

  “Oh, please, Phil,” I grumbled and rolled my eyes. “That was years ago. I was in my twenties. It wasn’t happening then, and it’s not happening now. And I’ll have you know that I will still be an investigator until my dying breath.”

  “Great. So, what’s your plan now?”

  “The plan is not to be micromanaged by you.”

  He scoffed. “Well, I do have to keep an eye on you.”

  I pointed to the door. “Out.”

  “I guess you don’t want my help at all then?”

  “You’re not helpful,” I said. “Unless you can tap into those underground connections to tell me who might be stealing dead girls or murdering them.”

  He tapped the monitor on his ankle. “I wish I could,” he said. “If I even tried, this thing would zap me into dust.”

  “Now there’s a thought,” I grumbled.

  Cassandra knocked on the door. “You two okay?”

  Phil disappeared as the door opened and Cassandra stood with her notebook against her chest.

  “We’re fine,” I said. “What did you need?”