Lucky Witches Page 13

  His breath grew heavier as his fingers brushed my neck, and as he clasped the locket in place my own breath hitched. I pictured him kissing the back of my neck. I pictured all sorts of scenarios, most of them ending at his lighthouse, with a barefoot Dylan bringing me coffee in the morning.

  The lighthouse!

  I turned to him. ‘Okay, I have the locket on, so now will you listen to me? Dylan, you already told me you’ve seen the state of the town. Well, it’s not just here. It’s Riddler’s Cove, too. It’s even happening in Warren Lane. And it’s all because of a bunch of chaos coins.’ I began to tell him about the Crossroads, the chaos demon and the wishes that were going very wrong.

  His face had been growing paler and paler the longer I talked, but when I mentioned Sean’s death, he gasped. ‘It can’t be. It can’t have anything to do with the lighthouse. I mean … poor Sean. But I still had Roarke as a back-up. And Greg. I had it covered.’

  ‘And … no one after Greg?’

  He furrowed his brow. ‘No. Three seems more than enough to cover the job, don’t you think?

  Oh dear. I was just about to tell him why he most definitely did not have it covered, when Jared walked in with a bag of doughnuts in his hands.

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘You’re here, Dylan. That’s … unexpected.’

  An awkward look passed between the two men, and I became acutely aware that I was wearing a very thin robe.

  ‘Before you two start arguing and this gets off track again …’ I looked pointedly from one to the other. ‘Dylan, you’re going to have to tell us what’s going on with the lighthouse. Because Roarke was hurt too. And then Greg. Someone tried to kill them, the same way they killed Sean. We went and looked around, and we can’t figure out what the big deal is. It doesn’t look like Greg not checking up on the plants this morning caused any great catastrophe. But then why were all three of them targeted? And why …’

  I let my voice trail off as Dylan stood up and stared at me. ‘Greg didn’t get there on time this morning?’ He swallowed. ‘Oh, dear goddess, I have to get to the lighthouse.’

  He spun on his heels and ran for the door.

  ‘Wait!’ I called after him. ‘I want to come with you!’

  He glanced back from the hallway, still on the move. ‘Follow behind me, Ash, but I have to go right now. I can’t waste a single second.’ I stood there, staring, as he changed into a bat and flew out the door.

  ≈

  I watched him fly for a moment, thinking that this was the first time I’d seen him behave like the vampire that he was. I began to run out after him when Jared grabbed me and said, ‘Ash, you’re in an incredibly short and thin satin robe right now. Not that I don’t think it’s a good look on you but … Oh, and also – unless you’ve learned to click your fingers, then there’s no way you can keep up with a vampire in bat form.’

  I didn’t pause to argue. I just ran up the stairs, threw on the first outfit I could see, and then ran back down again.

  As I reached the front door again, Jared was waiting. ‘My car is ready to go,’ he said. ‘It’ll be a lot quicker that way.’

  I considered the offer for the merest second. Sure, the detective hated Jared with a furious passion. But Jared’s car was fast. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘I mean, I could carry you there faster than I can drive,’ he told me as we rushed outside and got into the Porsche. ‘But somehow I don’t think you want to be quite that close to me.’

  As we drove along, I couldn’t help but notice that there were still no Wayfarers on the streets. By many accounts they were the best policing force the supernatural world had seen in a long time. The fact that they’d been imprisoned so easily was worrying, but I had a feeling that it was purely down to the chaos coins. Darrell Plimpton had wished for a world where he was Minister, and Wayfarers had no power. Until the effect of the coins wore off, they might never be able to break out of Witchfield. They might just have to ride this one out.

  While I was busy noticing the unfortunate lack of Wayfarers, Jared was noticing something else. I could feel his eyes on me and, as I turned to look at him, I saw that he was staring at my new locket with a sad expression on his face.

  ‘Well, seeing as I know exactly what a vampire has to go through to get one of those, then I guess it’s safe to say I’m no longer in the running.’ He nodded, as though he’d just come to a decision for himself. ‘Well, he’s a good man. I wish you both the best. But I think it’s time for me to stop flirting with you now, don’t you?’

  I was trying to think of the correct response, when I noticed that the road in front of us was very much blocked. ‘Look out, Jared!’ I cried. ‘We’re about to knock down half of the people in town!’

  Jared screeched to a halt. As he did, the people on the road encircled his car and began to bang on the roof and the windows. It was about that time when I noticed that half of them were armed – some of them with garden shears, some of them with hoes, and some of them with pitchforks.

  ‘Fan freakin’ tastic,’ said Jared through gritted teeth. ‘A horde of townsfolk carrying gardening tools. I haven’t encountered one of these little love-ins for at least a hundred years.’

  20. Poke Her with the Pitchfork

  There was one unquestionable fact about the people who had surrounded the car, and that was that each and every one of them was human. Hilda, the town’s florist, was banging the hardest and shouting the loudest.

  Tractor-obsessed Mark was there, too. As was Marius the postman, Mossy the tractor salesman, Leo who owned the hardware store, and six or seven more whose names I didn’t know.

  ‘Hey, you!’ shouted Hilda, hitting the handle of her gardening shears against the car’s bonnet. ‘We know what you are! Come out so we can question you.’

  ‘You think they’ve been affected by the chaos coins?’ Jared whispered.

  I’d briefly wondered the same thing earlier on, but I knew it was impossible. ‘They can’t have been,’ I replied. ‘There were no humans at the casino. But I saw a load of them getting involved in rows earlier on today, so … I have no idea what’s wrong with them.’

  ‘I guess the only thing to do is ask them, then,’ said Jared, taking a deep breath and rolling down his window. ‘Well, hello everyone!’ He smiled at them all. ‘And what can I do for you lovely people this afternoon? Nice day, isn’t it? I always say a nice Midsummer is a good omen for the remainder of the year.’

  Mark was at Jared’s window, but Hilda quickly shoved him out of the way. ‘Well you would say that, wouldn’t you? Midsummer indeed. I’ve seen you turn into a bat, Jared Montague. I know what you are.’

  To his credit, Jared simply cocked a brow and said, ‘Really, Hilda? And what am I?’

  Hilda’s mouth and nose twitched. ‘You’re … you’re a man who can turn into a bat. And you!’ She pointed the sharp end of her shears in my direction. ‘You’re something funny, too. I never liked you from the moment I saw you. And why is it that over and over again, I forget that I’ve seen you with that strange old broom? Eh? Why is it that up until now I’ve completely overlooked the fact that the broom flies around the town after you?’

  I wished the broom was still flying around after me, because if it was, then it might be whacking her across the head right now. ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ I said, trying to keep my expression even. ‘A broom? Flying all over town after me? Hilda, maybe some of those flowers you’re selling are a little bit illegal?’

  The postman stepped nearer to the window. ‘And why do we keep calling Riddler’s Edge a town?’ he demanded. ‘Because there are only two hundred people living here. That barely even makes us a village.’

  Leo, the owner of the hardware store, stood forward. He was one of the pitchfork holders and – naturally – his was bigger and sharper than anyone else’s. He held the enormous pitchfork up and pointed it in the direction of the Wandering Wood. ‘But more importantly, what’s over that way? What’s in that creepy fo
rest?’

  Jared and I shared a look of panic. Humans couldn’t see the Wandering Wood. It was hidden by the same protective wards that kept the entirety of Riddler’s Cove from their view.

  Hilda shoved her way to the front again. ‘And why did I see a wolf peeing on my tulips this morning? Eh?’ Her eyes narrowed and she gave us a look that was filled with hatred and fear. ‘What are you people?’

  Jared gave me a nervous glance, before turning his attention to the townsfolk once more. ‘Excuse me, everyone, but I believe this began with you saying you knew what we were. And yet you still have to offer a decent hypothesis. Perhaps you’ve all gotten up close and personal with Hilda’s illegal flowers.’

  His eyes had grown deeper in colour, and become oddly focused. I wondered if he was beginning to compel them. Could he compel so many people at once? Although the others were staring into his eyes and beginning to look complacent, Hilda moved away and shook Leo, saying, ‘Poke Aisling Smith, Leo. Drag her out of the car and poke her with the pitchfork. I heard witches bleed black blood!’

  Jared flicked the locks on the doors and stared harder. ‘No, Hilda. No one’s poking anyone today – with a pitchfork or anything else. If you’d just calm down and focus on me, I’m sure I can explain quite satisfactorily what’s going on here.’

  Hilda wasn’t the only one who had stopped focusing on Jared. Everyone else was moving around the car again, banging on it with more ferocity than ever.

  ‘If I can’t stare at them, I can’t compel them,’ said Jared. ‘There’s only one thing for it. I’m going to have to get out. Do you think you can hold your own while I calm them down?’

  I bit my lip, thinking that over. After what I’d done in the holding pen, I had no doubt that I could hold my own. Plus I had the Impervium now. But what if I hurt someone – or all of them – in the process?

  As the pointy end of one of the pitchforks smashed through the windscreen, and Hilda’s shears came right through my window, though, I was beginning to think I had no choice. If Jared didn’t calm these people down with his vampire powers, then I was going to have to stop them.

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Try it.’

  He reached for my hand. ‘You’ll have to get out behind me. Stand in my shadow and I’ll do my best to protect you. If they get too hard to handle, I’ll fly you out of here. Okay?’

  I nodded. Flying away from the mad people sounded like a much better option than killing the mad people. I shuffled out behind Jared, my body staying close to his all the time.

  Jared’s eyes took on that same odd look, and he spoke in a commanding but soft voice. ‘Listen to me, everyone. You want to listen to me. You want to calm down and go home now, until the effect of Hilda’s flowers wears off.’

  For a moment, they moved back, staring at us and slowly circling. But I could see that they weren’t meeting Jared’s eyes. Even if they were, I feared they were too far gone for hypnosis. This was it, then. I was going to have to do the thing that I really didn’t want to do.

  As one of the men poked a hoe at Jared, I wished I’d remembered to bring my training wand. It would have been useful last night. It would be even more useful right now. If I had it I might stand a better chance of actually focusing my power instead of sending out a thrust of magic that could hurt them all. Note to self: never leave home without a wand.

  Just as I was about to try something, a shadow fell over us all.

  As I looked up I almost wept with relief. Grace was flying on a sleek-looking broom, with Greg clutching her waist. Even flying a broom into a dicey situation, Grace managed to look amazing. She was wearing mint green heels and a lovely summer dress.

  ‘Conáil!’ she bellowed, holding her arms wide.

  The crowd froze in place and, when it did, Hilda was holding the pitchfork about two inches from my behind.

  ‘Oh thank the stars!’ I wiped my forehead. ‘If Hilda had met her mark I wouldn’t have been able to sit down for a month. Grace, what’s going on here? Why can they all see the forest?’

  Grace sighed. ‘Because someone’s been messing about with the lighthouse. Dylan finally phoned me. He’s trying to sort it out, but I don’t think he’s going to manage it without a lot of help.’

  ‘Where’s Pru?’ Jared questioned.

  ‘At the Vander Inn with Nollaig,’ said Greg. ‘Grace put about a hundred protection spells on the house, so they’ll be fine. Come on – we need to hurry.’

  Grace flew off with Greg, and Jared and I got back into the Porsche, racing behind the broom and reaching the lighthouse in under a minute. When we got there, though, I almost ran back out again.

  The front door was open, and as we walked into the main living area, I saw Arnold Albright seated on a stool.

  21. Randall’s Riddles

  Arnold was seated next to another member of the Albright coven, a man close to my own age named Arthur. And whilst a coven in which everyone’s name begins with the letter A might seem like the most annoying thing in the world, the sight of Arnold himself was even more annoying. Or at least it was, until I noticed the bruising on his face.

  ‘Aisling!’ His eyes lit up when he saw me, and as he struggled to get down from his stool, he reached for his cane. A rush of sympathy coursed through me, and I looked around for it, but couldn’t see his usual spiral-designed walking-stick anywhere. There was, however, a much plainer cane that I assumed must be his, so I handed it to him.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said in a choked-up voice, resting his weight on the cane. ‘I thought you’d quite enjoy seeing me fall flat in my face.’

  My natural instinct was to look anywhere but directly at him, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. ‘That’s not your usual walking-stick. You need to be careful, Arnold, until you get used to it.’ Close up, I could see just how bad the bruising on his face was. His right eye was a bluish black, and a large bruise covered his left cheekbone. I pointed to the bruising. ‘What happened?’

  He shook a hand dismissively, wobbling on his bad leg. ‘I’m old is what happened. Don’t worry about me.’

  Oh, criminy! I was worried. And despite the fact that I still didn’t trust this man, that stupid wave of sympathy was rushing through me once again. I tried to push it down, turning to Arthur instead. ‘Where’s Dylan?’

  ‘In the basement. I was just about to lead Arnold down there, but he needed a bit of a rest first. They’re steep stairs, and you can’t use magic to descend.’

  He put a hand to Arnold’s waist, and they walked ahead of us. The stairs really were steep, and I almost tripped a few times. Grace was faring a lot worse than me in her high heels.

  ‘Dylan should have told us all about this,’ she muttered. ‘This could have been avoided if he’d just explained things to the people he had looking after the place.’

  ‘He couldn’t,’ said Arthur with a sigh. ‘It’s one of the conditions of looking after the lighthouse. He’s only been able to tell us now because the wards are down.’

  Jared was frowning in confusion, and I couldn’t say I understood things much better. I knew that the job of the lighthouse was to make sure no one from Riddler’s Edge accidentally strayed into the fully magical neighbouring town of Riddler’s Cove, but the more I learned about the magical world, the odder the whole thing seemed. No other enclaves needed a failsafe like the lighthouse.

  ‘Is that why all this is happening?’ I asked. ‘The humans can see the Wandering Wood and they can see us or … or see what we are … because something’s gone wrong with the lighthouse?’

  But even if that were the case, I thought, it still wouldn’t explain much. I had no idea why the wards were down. I had no idea what Sean, Roarke and Greg had to do with it. And I definitely had no idea where the chaos coins came into play.

  ‘In a way,’ said Dylan, reaching out a hand to help me down the final two steps. Seeing as Jared had also reached out a hand, I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do. Take hold of both their hands? Maybe whilst kicking
my feet up and breaking out into a musical number?

  ‘I’m okay,’ I said, brushing them both off and nodding down to my flat-soled black boots. ‘Sensible shoes.’

  I looked around the basement. Yes, there were a few boxes of dusty old files, but it was becoming clear that they weren’t the reason why Dylan kept this room locked up.

  Most of the room was taken up by a huge circular stone, with a series of smaller stone handles jutting out. There were bright golden symbols atop the stone. The symbols looked like ogham, an ancient Irish alphabet.

  ‘This is a lock stone,’ said Dylan. ‘And it’s part of the reason why Riddler’s Edge and Riddler’s Cove are named as they are.’ He turned to Arthur. ‘You’re the Tall Tales teacher, Arthur. I think you can explain it a lot better than I can.’

  Arthur nodded, took off his glasses to polish them, and then put them back on again. ‘Okay, everyone. Listen closely, because it’s a long, boring and – some say – confusing tale. One you’re only going to want to hear once.’

  ≈

  Long, long ago, when witches and wizards were at war, there lived a wizard named Randall. Randall’s magic was hard won, channelled through dark objects and ancient spells. It was a power many witches envied, for their own natural magic could never come close.

  Long before Riddler’s Edge had its name, Randall was the lighthouse keeper there. But his cleverness was too vast for him to be happy with looking after the lighthouse. He devised a spell that meant it would operate without him. With the lighthouse looked after by magic, Randall used his time to work for many great and wealthy witches in their nearby enclave – then known only as the Cove. He helped them to craft spells, make brooms and track down objects of unusual power that they could use to increase their magic and their riches.

  Though these witches were happy to use Randall’s services, they sent him back to Riddler’s Edge each and every evening, never allowing him to live in their enclave. Randall had wanted to be one of them for so long – had studied, and searched, and worked himself to the bone to earn their respect – and yet they never accepted him as one of their own.