21 Cemetery Road

by R Stoneman

  "Liz's coven doesn't usually end like that," said Thor, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

  “It seemed a bit more exciting than usual," said Gordon. "I thought it was more circle dancing and songs, not screams.”

  “I’ve lost them; I’ve lost my coven.” Liz stood halfway down the stairs in tears. “We did the usual opening, which went very well, and I said that as we had covered water in the last session, we would call on earth. We raised the cone of power, which was surprisingly much stronger than usual, because of Trevor’s aid. I invoked the earth and brought through an elemental to help us with gardening. I think it was a Grindle, a friendly type of Gnome like figure, not handsome but earthy and always glad to lend a hand with trees and plants.” She paused and sat down on on the step with Trevor beside her lashing his tail. “When the women saw the Grindle appear in the circle,” said Liz, “and it was obviously male, all hell broke loose. The women panicked, the circle disintegrated, the Grindle vanished, probably angry, and then they all ran out.” She sighed. “You know the rest.”

  Thor went to her and sat on the step below her.

  “Liz, I don’t think those women had ever seen an Elemental before and never practised magic, or I guess, really meant to get in too deep. For them, it’s a woman's club with singing, meditation, dancing, cakes and ale. I believe in this place wherever it is, there’s no magic, or if there is, it’s well hidden.” Gordon walked over to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her.

  “Darlin', they were playing at being a witch; you could never have trained them up, so don’t feel too bad. It wasn’t you – it was them.”

  I had a troubling thought, and I couldn’t shake it.

  “I don’t want to alarm anyone, but when the word gets out, we are going to get visitors. We don’t even know if the working of magic of any sort is allowed in this world. The police will almost certainly be interested in the appearance of a naked male elemental in front of a group of young ladies. Even worse, the full weight of publicity by the newspapers will tell everyone that there is a real live witch that can actually conjure up a gnome and can be found on 21 Cemetery Rd."

  "I don't conjure him up," said Liz, "and he wasn't a gnome." She sat down; her shoulders sagged, a look of abject misery on her face. "What are we going to do?"

  “I think we go down and see what’s in the cellar and try to find a way back to our own time and fast before things get too awkward, I said. “Mrs Tilling said we bent time around here. Let’s do some bending ourselves, instead of being swept along by fate. Liz, are you up to coming with us or will you rest for a bit?”

  “Try and stop me.”

  “Down in the kitchen we lined up; I took a deep breath, opened the door and we walked down the steps into the cold cellar.

  DECISIONS, DECISIONS

  "Oh, no," said Liz. "Now what?"

  “Bloody concrete,” said Gordon looking around. Surrounded by whitewashed walls, instead of the stone flags, we stood on a smooth wall to wall concrete floor. Old sports equipment and boxes stacked around the walls showed that it was used only for storage and junk.

  "If there ever was a well here it's gone, filled in," I said, "we have to find a time or place where there is a well mouth, hopefully with Albertus's bones." I felt cold and despondent; we could be hopping forever around, through magical door after door, lost in Limbo, never reach our own time and place.

  “No well mouth?” said Thor.

  “Nope,” said Gordon. "And I can hear a wailing noise.”

  “That’s a siren. Is there going to be a Zepplin attack?” asked Liz, “I thought we were at peace with Germany.” The wailing got louder then stopped outside our house. “Whatever it is, it’s here.”

  “I have a feeling that it’s the police,” I said. "I think they use sirens here instead of a bell.”

  “Oh damn, we’re stuck here like rats in a trap,” said Gordon looking around to see if there was any way out.

  “No,” Trevor said. “for Eris' sake, stop thinking like Mundanes. Use the door summons. Liz, you do it. I feel like giving up on these idiotic men.”

  Gordon and Thor glared at Trevor; I pulled my Rowan wand from my sleeve and concentrated on it. This wand would be our link to the right place. Part of this tree was growing by our house when we left, and I willed it to be a key to our return to the right time and place. Liz spoke the four words of summoning, and we watched anxiously as a green, paint peeled old door rippled into view in the wall.

  “A moon?” asked Gordon. “Why has the door got a hole the shape of a moon carved into it?”

  “It’s an old privy door,” said Thor. "We had one like this on the island.”

  I knew that things could get strange if you had a grumpy familiar. We were lucky we didn’t need to crawl through a catflap.

  “Look,” said Liz. “As long as there isn’t a seat with a hole in it on the other side, we use it. Or you can stay here and face whatever comes down those steps.”

  Gordon pulled the door open, and we looked in.

  “Another bloody cellar,” said Gordon.

  Above the steps, the kitchen door burst open.”

  "Stay where you are and put your arms above your head.” The stentorian shout echoed around the cellar.

  “I don’t think so,” said Liz and ran through the door followed by Trevor and the rest of us. I looked back as Gordon swung the door shut just as several uniformed men descended the steps holding large assault rifles.

  “They’ve got guns,” I said, “what the Hell for, were not terrorists?”

  “In that case, close the door Liz, please,” said Thor, looking visibly shaken. “The sooner we get back to our own time and place, the better.” Liz dismissed the door, and we looked around; this place seemed familiar, with a flagged floor and rough stone walls.

  “Hey,” said Thor.” There’s my circle with the candles burned out.”

  “And the well,” Liz said. “Hopefully with the bones of Albertus in it.”

  “Back to square one,” said Gordon. “And I’m starving; it must be lunchtime.”

  I walked over to the lip of the well and looked down, but saw only darkness. I relaxed and using that area of the mind where all magic come from, tried to sense if there was anything down there. I felt the power; like standing next to an electric generator, operating at full capacity. The hairs on my head rose, and a prickle of energy rippled through my mind. I stepped back, and the feeling vanished.

  “I’m sure we have the bones of Albertus Grammaticus down there,” I said, “but I think we should go up and look around just to make sure this really is our time and place.”

  “I’ll make some sandwiches and a pot of tea,” said Thor.

  We looked around our house and found things the same as when we left, even to the broken window in the sitting room. With Trevor curled up on Liz’s lap, we relaxed in the kitchen munching toast and discussing our adventure and what to do next.

  “I think we contact the council,” said Thor. “If what Will has found are the bones, we’re back to square one with the Necromancers versus the Dark Council, with us in the middle.”

  “At least this time, we appear to have the genuine articles,” said Gordon.

  “And,” said Thor, “we don’t have to worry about Ms Black.”

  Liz looked across at me and raised an eyebrow; I knew what she meant. Just because there wasn’t a body didn’t prove she was dead, she might be in hiding. If she was killed, with the Necromancers and their vile spells, they could animate the corpse and use her as a useful tool. I shuddered and took a swig of tea. The front doorbell rang, and Gordon left the table to answer it and came back with a smile on his face.

  “Liz, you’re Sisters of Hecate are back. Again.”

  “Aradia give me strength,” she whispered and stood.

  “Are you going to go through with it? asked Thor.

  “I have to, it’s a duty, and I hope the Grindle isn’t angry.” And with that, she walked out, head held high
to greet her coven. We listened for any sounds that would indicate a problem, but from the faint sounds of chanting and long silences, we all guessed things were back to normal. I was buttering my second slice of toast when there was another ring from the doorbell. This time it was Gordon who answered the door. Thor and I listened and heard a man's voice; we tried to listen to what was being said, but it was too quiet for us to make out the words. Gordon came in and looked around the door.

  “My client has come for his session; see you later.”

  Thor and I heard them going up the stairs and looked at one another.

  “Okay, Will. Who does what now?” he asked.

  “I’m going to call Mrs Tilling; oh damn, I can’t.”

  “Oh damn, what?”

  “I don’t have her number, and I’m pretty sure the operator won’t know where to start looking. The Dark Council are secretive, and it won’t be in the phone directory. I’m going to have to go back to Somerset House again..”

  “Seeing as I’ll be on my own,” Thor said. “I’ll strengthen the wards and guards around the house; my room needs a good clean too.”

  I left the house and set off for Somerset House.

  The tram ride was uneventful, and through the window, I watched people going about their everyday business. Closer to the centre of London, I saw banners celebrating the forthcoming ‘King John's Glorious Coronation' and Union flags going up on the buildings around the streets where his golden carriage would pass. It had been a long time coming. It was rumoured around the Magical fraternity that the Royal family had a few Magicals working for them, but this was of course gossip. But did make me think that if the king to turned out to be more enlightened, then Magicals might have an easier time in future under his rule. The activity on the streets reminded me to stay well away on the day. Any magic worker knows that too many people in crowds resulted in a deadening of perception and loss of magical strength. I let my mind wander as the tram clattered through the cobbled streets. We had all been back and forwards through time and descended into the Netherworld, and we now had the bones of a powerful sorcerer down a well in the cellar. I wanted to get back to my magical workings, it would be good to get back to a normal life, or as stable a life as a Magical can achieve. The clang of the tram's bell broke my introspection and recognised my stop outside Somerset House. Inside the echoing main hall, I found reception then followed the glowing magic line away from the hustle and bustle of office workers. It seemed to go on forever; down gloomy and echoing green corridors smelling of magic and dust until finally, the line ended at Mrs Tillings office. I knocked and entered.

  "Good Morning," said the young girl with the green hair. "We've been expecting you; please go through, you know the way."

  I knocked and entered, and as before, Mrs Tilling sat by the little fire in the grate with Pickle, her cat familiar at her feet.

  “Well, Mr Greenwood, the same again? Please take a seat and tell me everything."

  THE END