All Hallowed Out Read online

  Because Miles Master was rolling in money, they had all the funding they needed, and had opened up a headquarters in Dublin. Thanks to Miles’s generosity, the Nemo Foundation offered accommodation to any who needed it – which was lucky, because some of the members were so different from their covens, packs and families that they had even been outcast from their homes.

  Today, Melissa would be keeping an eye on Candace and the other members while they decorated the community hall and practised for their A Trick for a Treat performances (each year, supernatural kids showed off their talents in front of an audience, and received treats in return).

  ‘I thought Miles would be with you,’ I commented. ‘Is he already at the community hall with the Nemo people?’

  Melissa slurped some hot chocolate, then wiped her lips before saying, ‘Miles has been leaving most things to me lately.’ She didn’t sound too happy about that. ‘For his sake, he’d better have a good reason.’

  Tigger looked agitatedly around the room. ‘I don’t know who Miles is, but I do know I’m thirsty. Could you pour some out for me, please? My paw is not designed for holding bottles. I think I’ve done myself an injury.’

  I resisted the urge to laugh as I plonked him into a free chair, grabbing a saucer and pouring him a drink. His paws probably weren’t designed for the kitty karate he’d been attempting a short while ago either, but that hadn’t stopped him. ‘There you go,’ I said. ‘So now that you have your Kapow Meow, maybe you can finally tell me why you need my help.’

  Tigger ignored me, lapping up most of the energy milk before running over to one of the little cat beds by the stove. Mischief, my mother’s familiar, hissed at him and said, ‘If you want to share this bed, then you’d better lie down and sleep.’

  The cat considered the offer, then hopped out of that bed and onto an armchair instead. Then he ran around the entire room three times before finally returning to the chair I’d put him in in the first place. ‘Sorry.’ He wiped his brow. ‘Sometimes the Kapow Meow works a little too well.’

  ‘So don’t drink it.’ Princess, Melissa’s familiar, exaggeratedly rolled her big green eyes.

  Tigger sighed. ‘If only it were that easy, gorgeous. I have to drink it. Otherwise I’ll fall asleep, just like Ariadne did. She’s my witch.’

  I took a sip of my hot chocolate, grinning at my dad in thanks. ‘I’m confused. Why would you fall asleep just because your witch has? And why is she asleep? I thought you said she was in rehab.’

  ‘She is,’ he replied. ‘She got put in the Night Rooms by her agent, because she collapsed late yesterday afternoon. They’re saying it’s because of exhaustion, and that she just needs to be allowed to sleep for a few days in a tranquil environment. But I know better.’

  He tapped his chest with a paw. ‘I feel it in here. I feel Ariadne communicating with me. She’s trying to tell me this is serious. But no one will believe me. They think I’m just a hyperactive cat with an energy-drink problem. But the truth is, ever since she nodded off, that’s all I’ve wanted to do – to close my eyes and join her. I don’t want to drink it. I have to.’ He yawned. ‘I’m so tired. But I have to stay awake for Ariadne’s sake.’

  My mother stroked him gently. ‘You poor little man. And what did they say at the clinic? The Night Rooms, you said?’ She whistled. ‘Very expensive, that place.’

  The cat shrugged. ‘My witch is wealthy. She could afford to live in a fancy hotel for the rest of her life if she wanted. And yes, I told them something is wrong – that this is more than just exhaustion – but they wouldn’t listen to me. So I came here to find the Wayfarer.’ He stared at me, twitching all the while. ‘You have to help me, Wanda. Nobody listens to me, but they’ll listen to you. Something’s really wrong with my witch, I know it.’

  I patted his head and looked around at the others. ‘I think I should check it out, at least. What’s the Night Rooms like? Will they answer my questions or will I need to get a lawyer involved?’ I wiggled my brows at Melissa.

  ‘If you’re there at the request of Tigger, they should answer.’ Melissa pushed her empty plate away. ‘As he’s her familiar, he has a right to know her medical details. But I’m not sure they’ll make it as easy as they ought.’

  Christine and my mother shared a glance. ‘No,’ said my mother. ‘From what I’ve heard of that place, Melissa is right – they won’t make it easy. It’s so exclusive it doesn’t even have its name over the door. But a familiar knows their witch better than any doctor ever will – and has the right to have their questions answered, just as Melissa said. I’ll go along with you, if you like, just to remind them of their legal responsibilities.’

  Oh, I loved my mammy. Sure, I was in my twenties, and I was perfectly capable of looking after myself. But it was ever so nice to have a mother who always wanted to help out when she could. Not only was she head of our coven, but she was also the Minister for Magical Law. And Christine, Melissa’s mother, was the commissioner of our police force, the Wayfarers.

  Yes, Tigger had called me the Wayfarer. I was named after the original Wayfarer, a witch called Wanda who had roamed from place to place, righting the supernatural wrongs. It had taken me a while to come into my magic, but once I did I discovered that I shared more than just a name with the first Wayfarer – my aforementioned knack of attracting the mourning familiars of murder victims being the biggest.

  It had been my mother’s idea to call our police force the Wayfarers, and I couldn’t think of a more suitable name. Every person on the force was passionate about doing right by Ireland’s supernatural citizens. As well as being a student at Crooked College, I worked as a detective in the Major Crimes section. There was no other job I’d rather have.

  ‘I think I’d like to go too,’ said Christine. ‘If that’s okay. All of the psychics and empaths in the Crime Prevention division are on edge this morning, and I’m not feeling so great myself. There’s …’ She paused, shivering slightly. ‘I don’t know. There’s just something in the air. And Max told us what happened in the woods just now.’

  ‘We helped tell the story,’ Wolfie announced.

  Christine giggled. ‘Yes, Wolfie and Dizzy both helped Max to tell us. With a dramatic re-enactment, no less. It was an incredibly moving performance.’

  Dizzy smiled proudly. ‘It was, wasn’t it? It’s tuckered me out, matter of fact. I think I might go for a lie upside down.’ He placed a little kiss on my cheek. ‘Wake me up when you get back?’

  I smiled at the bat. Of course he was exhausted. He’d just eaten an enormous serving of his favourite food. ‘I’ll wake you in the afternoon,’ I told him, watching fondly as he flew out of the kitchen.

  When he was gone, I returned to the conversation. ‘The thing with the leaves was weird,’ I admitted. ‘But it could have just been someone messing with magic.’ I’d said the same when we were in the woods. I didn’t believe it then, and I didn’t believe it now.

  My dad was standing at the kitchen window, looking outside. ‘I suppose it could have been,’ he said. ‘But then how come no more leaves have fallen since then?’

  A collective shiver ran through the room. ‘You know what?’ said Melissa. ‘I think I’ll head over to the Night Rooms with you guys. Candace can handle everything just fine.’

  Tigger gulped down some more Kapow Meow and, with a purr, said, ‘Thank you. I have a feeling that my witch needs all the help she can get.’

  3. The Night Rooms

  My father had to return to work, and Max had his final meeting with the bank manager, so we said our goodbyes and headed off without them.

  By the time we arrived at the Night Rooms, Tigger had downed another bottle of Kapow Meow, and was more hyperactive than ever.

  According to Melissa, the clinic had many branches. Tigger told us that Ariadne had been placed in the Riddler’s Cove branch, a building which was on the eastern side of the town, just beyond the houses of the rich and famous. It was in an elevated spot, with nice views of
the bay, but the building itself was hidden by a concealment spell. The idea was to ensure that the paparazzi couldn’t take any sneaky pics of the clients.

  After a long and annoying chat with the security guards, we were admitted to the Night Rooms, and we finally got to see the exclusive clinic for ourselves.

  ‘Wouldn’t mind booking myself in here – if I could afford it,’ said my mother as we walked inside. I knew what she meant. This place was Fancy with a capital F. Guests lounged about on beanbags and hammocks, while the clinic’s staff handed them drinks and food.

  Through an open door I could see a yoga class in progress, too. It wasn’t the kind of yoga Melissa took me to, where I sweated and fell over a lot while I tried to wrestle my body into impossible positions. This looked like nice, gentle stretching. They even had pillows and blankets on their mats. Yum.

  ‘Minister Wayfair. Commissioner Wayfair.’ The receptionist looked first at my mother and Christine, before shifting his gaze to Melissa and me and lowering his voice. ‘Are you here to book your daughters in? Those two are rather well-known, aren’t they? Some of their haters might even call them infamous. But whether we love them or hate them, we all know how stressful their lives can get. You can count on our discretion if they need some intervention. No matter what their addictions may be. I’m guessing some kind of flying potion. Am I right?’

  ‘You’re wrong. I don’t have any addictions,’ I said. ‘Well, unless you count apple tart. And burritos. And … oh, look, we’re not here about me.’

  ‘Or me.’ Melissa’s hands flew to her hips. ‘And gossiping about how “infamous” potential clients may or may not be is hardly a wise way to go about your business.’ She narrowed her eyes, focusing on his nametag. ‘Is it, Marcus?’

  Marcus – a short, rotund man with bleached blond hair and a tan that was definitely not natural – gave her an insincere smile. ‘Please be assured, Miss Wayfair, we’re very professional when it comes to client confidentiality. When the Call of the Wild’s drummer was in here with his addiction to cheese and onion crisps, we didn’t tell a single soul.’

  I glanced at Melissa. Callum Cool, the band’s drummer, had gone through a stint here because he ate too many packets of crisps? I could think of a lot of things Callum Cool ought to cut back on. Dating, for example, or making sexist comments, or sending unwanted presents to Melissa … the list was endless, and cheese and onion crisps should not be his priority when it came to habits he needed to kick.

  Melissa gritted her teeth. ‘Case in point, Marcus. You shouldn’t be discussing Callum’s so-called addictions with me, should you? But we’re not here about him. We’re here to see a witch called Ariadne.’

  My mother nodded to Tigger. ‘This cat’s witch. We’d also like to speak to any healers who are looking after her.’

  Marcus shook his head, giving Tigger a look of pure exasperation. ‘This again? Listen, little fella, you know your witch is in good hands here. You have to stop panicking.’ He turned to us. ‘I can’t tell you the details of Ariadne’s condition, but suffice to say she’s in precisely the right place.’

  Melissa began to ball her fists. ‘You can tell us all about Callum and his crisps, but not about Ariadne? Do you even know the law, Marcus? We’re here at Tigger’s request, so you most definitely can tell us about Ariadne.’

  Christine put a calming hand to Melissa’s arm. ‘My daughter’s right, Marcus. And seeing as she’s a lawyer, you should listen to her. In fact, you should listen to all of us. Standing before you is the Wayfarer Commissioner, the Minister for Magical Law, a successful public defender and a detective with Major Crimes.’ She gave him a vicious smile. ‘Not that I’m pulling rank here, Marcus – but we do demand your full cooperation. Now.’

  While Marcus swallowed and blinked, my mother cleared her throat. ‘Ahem? Any time this year, Marcus.’

  Marcus swallowed again, then said, ‘Bear with me, Minister Wayfair, Commissioner Wayfair. I’ll see what I can do.’

  As he scurried away, Melissa grinned at our mothers. ‘Marcus nil, mammies one. Glad you came with us.’

  My mother grinned back. ‘So am I. Passing laws and bossing people around is all well and good, but I miss being hands-on.’

  ‘Me too,’ Christine agreed. ‘It’s a long time since we’ve worked an actual case.’ A troubled look took over her features. ‘And no matter what Marcus says, this is a case.’ She scratched behind Tigger’s ear. ‘I’ve spent enough years in this game to know that if a witch’s familiar thinks something is iffy, then something is iffy.’

  A few minutes later, an incredibly thin man arrived. He had sunken eyes, pale skin, and looked like he needed more spinach. His jet black hair made him look all the paler.

  ‘Fintan Night, head healer at the clinic.’ He extended a hand to my mother. ‘Very glad to make your acquaintance, Minister Wayfair.’ He shook Christine’s hand next, and then – after ignoring Melissa and me – he smiled down at Tigger. ‘Been causing ructions again, have you? You left this place in a right mess when you ran off. You scratched three of my best healers, and knocked over an entire shelf filled with expensive potions.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll charge Ariadne a whole lot more than the damage I did.’ Tigger glowered at the healer. ‘That’s if you ever let her out of here.’

  Fintan sighed. ‘Of course she’s getting out of here. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you – your witch is in the best place, Tigger. But to put your mind at rest, let’s go to her room. You can bring this very impressive group of lawmakers along, too, if you insist.’

  He led us to a plush room on the west side of the building. A woman of about forty or so slept soundly in a comfortable looking bed. She had pale red hair and flushed cheeks, and appeared perfectly healthy. A drip filled with a clear liquid was going into one of her arms, while a healing nurse monitored her progress.

  ‘You can leave us now, Jinny,’ said Fintan. ‘I’ll see to Goodwitch Albright.’

  Jinny tiptoed from the room, and we stared down at Ariadne while Tigger went to her side, digging his claws into her, saying, ‘Wake up, witch! Please, wake up!’

  ‘As I’m sure you can all appreciate,’ said Fintan in a hushed voice, ‘a woman as famous as Ariadne Albright has quite the busy schedule. She’s just released six books in the last year alone, plus had a gruelling promotional tour.’

  Now that he had mentioned her books, I knew who the patient was. Ariadne Albright was one of the most famous authors in the supernatural world. Most of her books were about witches having adventures in the human world. Her latest bestseller was called The Witch Who Drove a Car. I’d devoured it in a single sitting.

  ‘It’s not unusual for her to need to rest after such a busy time,’ the healer continued. ‘In fact, she’s been with us before under similar circumstances.’ He turned to Tigger. ‘Or did her familiar forget to mention that?’

  Tigger narrowed his moss-green eyes. ‘Yes, but she didn’t sleep for three days straight the last time, did she?’

  Fintan shrugged. ‘No. But she did sleep for nearly two.’

  ‘But that was different,’ the cat insisted. ‘I didn’t want to fall asleep back then. Now I can barely keep my eyes open.’

  ‘You look fairly awake to me.’

  ‘Only because I’m living on energy milk!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Tigger, but you should know better than anyone that your witch is prone to overwork – writing around the clock, fuelled by caffeine.’ Fintan turned to us once more. ‘Right now, Ariadne is on a course of reviving fluids, which will make her feel like herself in no time at all. She’ll probably wake up tomorrow, and we’ll keep her here for a few more days after that, making sure she’s well rested before she returns to work. I can assure you, this is all quite normal for a woman of her temperament.’

  4. Lord of Tiggerton Manor

  We walked outside of the clinic gates before discussing our next move.

  ‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ T
igger hopped from my arms and raced around all of us in circles, shaking his head. ‘I knew it! I knew no one would believe me.’

  ‘Woah!’ I scooped him back up into my arms. ‘Calm down, kitty cat! What makes you think we don’t believe you?’

  He sniffled. ‘Because of what the healer said. And it’s true – I should have told you that Ariadne collapsed before and slept for ages afterwards, but I was afraid if I told you that, nothing else I said would matter.’

  ‘Well it matters.’ Melissa kissed the top of his head. ‘I know how connected I am to Princess. She knows everything I’m thinking and feeling. If you and Ariadne have even half the bond we do, then of course your suspicions matter.’

  ‘Really?’ He gave her a surprised stare.

  ‘Really,’ she confirmed.

  ‘We all believe you,’ said Christine. ‘That’s why I’m going to head into the Crime Prevention office right now. I have a whole team of psychics and empaths at my disposal. I need to look into what happened with the leaves ceasing to fall, too, but I’ll devote as much time as I can to making sure there’s no funny business going on with your witch.’

  ‘And I have a meeting I can’t miss,’ my mother informed him with a sad smile. ‘But before I head there, I’m going to ask another healer to have a look at Ariadne. We’ll get a second opinion, okay? Will that put your mind at rest?’

  The cat grinned. ‘My witch always said the Wayfairs were the bestest coven. Did you know she modelled the Waver coven in The Witch Who Flew a Plane after you guys?’

  My mother giggled. ‘Betty Waver is based on me?’ I could see why she looked so proud. In the book, Betty Waver was the formidable but loveable head of the crime-fighting Waver coven.

  ‘And Wendy is based on you, Wanda,’ Tigger added. ‘You know – the member of the coven who has the superpowers and who eats way too much sticky toffee pudding?’