Star Witch

  ‘He’s a teenager.’

  ‘That doesn’t excuse him.’

  Gareth’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘There’s still hope for him. He’s only fifteen.’

  I passed a hand across my eyes. Gareth was right: Alistair was just a kid. Who was I to pass judgment on him? I’d done things I wasn’t proud of when I was that age. I defied anyone to put their hand on their heart and say they’d been teenage angels. But what Alistair was doing was different to a few childish shenanigans. This wasn’t a bit of graffiti or drinking alcohol or breaking a window.

  ‘I don’t need you to stand up for me,’ Alistair yelled at Gareth.

  ‘He’s a child, Ivy.’

  I sighed.

  Gareth persisted. ‘Our parents haven’t been any kinder to him than they were to me. He’s desperate to prove himself and he wants attention. He’s not evil.’

  I had my doubts about that. I stared at Alistair, looking past the furious bravado. Immature eyes looked back at me with a mixture of fear and defiance.

  ‘Give him a chance,’ Gareth urged.

  ‘It’s not as simple as that,’ I whispered. I knew what I had to do.

  ‘Ivy…’

  I raised my hand to hush him. Alistair was on the edge of being consumed by the magic he’d unleashed but his blood was still red. He’d not gone so far that his death wouldn’t contain the power. If he’d pushed ahead with trying to raise Granny Morag it would have been too late but he’d not managed it. And he couldn’t have known what horror his actions would have created. Except … he knew what had happened to Benjamin Alberts. His zombie had done that. A man had died as a result of this child, whether he’d intended that death or not.

  I pulled out the incantation scroll from under my shirt and unfurled it. Then I glanced at Gareth. ‘You need to promise me that you’ll get him help. That you’ll do everything in your power to stop him from using magic without appropriate supervision.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘He can’t stop me!’ Alistair shouted. ‘No one can stop me!’

  ‘I promise, Ivy,’ Gareth said, ignoring his brother’s rant. ‘I’ll speak to the Order first thing in the morning and we’ll get him what he needs. He’s an angry young man but I know his heart is good.’

  I still wasn’t convinced but I knew I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t kill a kid. ‘If he hurts anyone else, with or without magic…’

  ‘He won’t.’

  ‘Ask for Raphael Winter. He has the patience of a saint. If anyone can help Alistair then he can.’ I took a deep breath. And then I started to read. ‘Per potestas penes me iubes me in magica.’

  ‘What is she doing?’ Alistair screeched. ‘What is that witch doing?’

  ‘Et tollet a vobis eo quod habetis.’ Goosebumps rose up along the length of my body.

  Morris Armstrong nudged Barry in the ribs. He coughed in response and opened his mouth. ‘Ivy!’ He started forward then, when Alistair flung an irate look in his direction, seemed to think better of it and fell back again. ‘Can you tell us what you’re doing? What kind of spell is this?’

  ‘Ego relinquam vos…’ My heart rate increased just as Alistair clutched at his own chest.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Gareth shouted. ‘You’re hurting him!’ He grabbed hold of my arm but I shoved him away.

  ‘…et irrumabo magicae…’

  Alistair let out a high-pitched scream. My knees trembled as my veins filled with power. I could feel it surging through me. Everything else around me dimmed and there was a dull roar in my ears. I sensed Gareth yelling again and Armstrong, Barry and Amy shouting. I dismissed them all. I was almost done.

  ‘…intrinsecus cava erat.’ The scroll fell from my hand. Magic thrummed through me and I felt my body being lifted upwards. I stretched out arms as far as they could go. Dying wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, with the euphoria that was coursing through me and increasing, I could have started to enjoy it. Of course, that was exactly when the pain started.

  My little toe tingled. Then it hurt. It wasn’t like a stubbing your toe kind of pain, it was more like the pain that would make me saw my entire foot off just to get it to stop. My mouth opened in a silent scream as the pain began to move, travelling up my leg and spreading up and up and up. I was on an all-encompassing rollercoaster ride of screeching, mind-numbing physical anguish. It ripped through my body and my muscles jerked impossibly in every direction. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of my chest.

  From beyond Armstrong and his little group, I thought I saw Winter sprinting towards us through the gloom and the graves like a demon on speed. Hallucination or otherwise, I still managed to smile. That man really ought to learn the pleasures of a slow stroll.

  ‘I love you,’ I whispered.

  ‘Goodness,’ said the disembodied head of Benjamin Alberts’ floating next to me. ‘And we’ve only just met.’

  For a very long time after that, I was aware of nothing else at all.

  Epilogue

  Bellows was shaking. It might have been with anger or it might have been with fear. Either way, Winter didn’t really care. ‘You abused your position to take advantage of several younger women. You assaulted them.’

  ‘Nobody said no!’

  ‘Oh, I think we’ll find they did.’ Winter leaned forward. ‘You tout yourself as a magical consultant. You pass yourself off as a witch. That means we can try you under Order jurisdiction, rather than the normal courts.’ He allowed himself a small smile. ‘Our methods and punishments are somewhat … harsher.’

  Bellows blinked and paled. ‘I’m not in the Order! I’m not even a witch! I barely have any magic at all!’

  ‘That’s not what you tell everyone.’

  ‘I’m lying!’

  Winter knitted his fingers together in satisfaction. ‘Indeed you are.’ He eyed Bellows. ‘Why are you using necromancy?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re raising the dead, Trevor. You’re responsible for at least one death.’

  Bellows bolted to his feet. ‘I bloody well am not! Okay, I blackmailed Belinda. Okay, I might have seduced some of the crew members. But I have never tried to raise a corpse!’

  Winter’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Seduced? Is that what you’re calling sexual assault?’

  Bellows began to bluster and babble. Winter would have stayed to listen but frankly he’d had more than enough. Trevor Bellows was a bastard and he deserved to be locked up for a very long time but Winter knew that when he’d denied the necromancy, he’d been telling the truth. Bellows’ alarm was genuine.

  Winter wasn’t surprised. Regardless of what Ivy had suggested, the sleazy supposed witch simply didn’t have the magic to pull off those kinds of spells. He stood up and walked out while Bellows continued to talk. Plonker, as Ivy would say.

  Out in the corridor, a familiar floppy-haired witch pushed himself off the wall and bounded forward. ‘Adeptus Exemptus Winter! How’s the interrogation going?’

  Winter glared at Tarquin Villeneuve. ‘Fine.’ He pushed past him. Dawn wasn’t far off and he could do with a few hours’ sleep before he went to check on Ivy. The last thing he needed was this idiot getting in his way.

  ‘Wait! There’s something I have to tell you!’

  Winter rolled his eyes and halted, reluctantly turning round. ‘What?’

  ‘I made that vial. The one Belinda Battenapple had round her neck.’

  ‘I know. So what?’

  Villeneuve was nonplussed. ‘Well, my talent is obvious. I think I would be an excellent candidate for Arcane Branch. In fact, I have a few ideas for questions you should ask Mr Bellows.’

  ‘Good for you. But Arcane Branch is full. I suggest you put your … talents to use elsewhere.’

  Villeneuve thrust out an arm to stop him from moving away. Winter stared at it in astonishment. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘You need to listen to me, Adeptus. I don’t know what Ivy ha
s said about me but I can assure you that I have nothing but integrity and…’

  Winter sighed. ‘Shut up.’

  Villeneuve gave him a knowing wink. ‘You like her, don’t you?’

  Winter growled, ‘What are you wittering on about?’

  ‘Ivy.’ Villeneuve smiled, flashing white, even teeth. ‘I can understand it. She does have a certain allure, doesn’t she? And I can tell you from personal experience that blondes definitely do have more fun.’

  Winter bunched up his fists. Unfortunately, Villeneuve wasn’t done and clapped him on the back as if they were the best of friends.

  ‘I’m prepared to step out of your way and let you have her. It’s the least I can do for an Adeptus Exemptus like yourself. Of course,’ he added, ‘I wouldn’t expect anything in return. You wouldn’t have to put in a good word for me at Arcane Branch. Not that it wouldn’t be welcome but I believe in hard work and earning the position I deserve.’

  Any second now, Villeneuve would receive exactly the position he deserved. ‘You will step out of the way,’ Winter demanded in a tone that would have sent almost anyone else – Ivy included – running for cover.

  ‘Sure. Anyone with half a brain can see how much you like her. It’s the way your eyes follow her when you think she’s not looking.’ Villeneuve’s smile changed to a smirk, as if suggesting that something lascivious went through Winter’s mind every time Ivy appeared.

  ‘Maybe,’ Winter said through his rising anger, ‘Ivy would like to decide for herself. Maybe I don’t need you to step out of the way and neither does she.’

  ‘Whoa, chillax, Adeptus! It was just a suggestion.’

  Chillax? Was that even a word? Winter had never been prone to violence but he was itching to wipe the smile off Villeneuve’s face. He took a deep breath, counted to three, then turned and started to walk away again.

  ‘Did you ask Trevor Bellows about the spells he’s been practising in between filming?’ Villeneuve called.

  Goddamnit. Winter stopped. This time he didn’t waste his time turning. ‘What spells?’

  ‘You should ask him. All I know is that he’s been punching above his weight and trying things he should know better than to attempt. He’s still in the interrogation room. The police won’t mind if you speak to him again.’

  Something was going on here – and Winter didn’t think it had anything to do with Trevor Bellows. He decided he’d shake the truth out of Ivy’s stupid ex-boyfriend and damn the consequences.

  ‘Meow.’

  He glanced over. Brutus had appeared in an open window to the left and was peering at Winter with an uncharacteristic wide-eyed stare.

  Abandoning Villeneuve, Winter strode over. ‘What is it? Is it Ivy? Is she alright?’

  Villeneuve chuckled. ‘You’re not expecting the cat to answer, are you?’

  ‘Man,’ Brutus said. ‘Go.’

  ‘Go where? The hotel?’ Terror coursed through Winter’s veins.

  Villeneuve stared. ‘Did you throw your voice, Adeptus?’

  Brutus gave him a withering look and returned his attention to Winter. ‘Ivy is positioning herself in severe and immediate jeopardy. She has departed the hotel in order to locate some local human named Gareth and is under the impression that she will not return from this encounter. One might suggest that you leave this place post haste and go to her aid.’

  Shit, shit, shit. ‘Where exactly did she go, Brutus?’

  ‘A farm. I believe the name is McAllan? If she does not discover her quarry there, she believes he will be at the cemetery. She departed over an hour ago. You must hurry.’

  Brutus was still talking when Winter sprinted for the door. Villeneuve started to shout, ‘Wait! You can’t go! Ivy doesn’t want you to!’ There was a pause. ‘Ouch! You’ve pierced through my damn flesh! You bloody cat, what did you do that for?’

  Winter burst outside just as his phone started to ring. Thinking it might be Ivy, he answered it.

  ‘This is Iqbal,’ Ivy’s friend burst out in a rush. ‘Something’s wrong. We keep trying to get hold of Ivy. She left a message asking about someone named Gareth. His counsellor is a friend of my ex and … never mind. She called me because Ivy’s not picking up. She said that Gareth’s a good guy but she’s worried about his family. There’s a brother. Stepbrother or adopted brother or something like that. I don’t know. Adeptus, you have to get to Ivy now. I think something’s happening. I think…’

  ‘I’m on my way,’ Winter ground out. ‘I’m on my way now.’ He ran even faster.

  ***

  Every time he reached a red light, Winter flicked a rune out towards it and changed it to green. He’d never normally condone such behaviour even in an emergency but this was different. Ivy was different. When he got hold of her, he’d throttle her. Then he’d hug her and kiss her. After that he might tie her up to ensure she never did anything like this again.

  He told himself that the reason his hands were shaking was because of the adrenaline. If he recognised his fear for her he’d be a mess – and incapable of doing anything to help her. But Brutus had genuinely been worried. Winter drew in a ragged breath.

  Locating the farm, and ignoring the dirt that flew up around the bike’s wheels, he forced it up the narrow lane to the farmhouse at speed. He reminded himself that panic never helped anyone then he leapt from the seat without bothering to turn off the engine and hammered on the door. ‘Open up!’

  When the door didn’t open immediately, Winter raised one leg and kicked it. There was a crash of splintering wood and he stalked inside. ‘Ivy! Where the hell are you? Ivy!’

  From out of nowhere a woman appeared and Winter’s body tensed.

  She brandished a shotgun in his direction. ‘Get out of my house.’ She raised the muzzle.

  Winter’s hand snapped forward and he yanked the weapon out of her grasp. ‘Where is she?’ he demanded. ‘Where is Ivy Wilde?’

  The woman’s eyes were as wide as saucers. ‘I don’t know who you mean,’ she stammered. ‘No one lives here by that name. It’s just me, my husband and our two boys – Alistair and Gareth.’

  Gareth. Winter hissed through his teeth. ‘Where is he? Where is Gareth?’ He took a step towards her.

  The woman obviously felt threatened because she stepped back and he could see her trembling. ‘He went out after a sheep. It got lost. A woman came round looking for him. Blonde with crazy hair and crazier eyes. She…’ Her voice faltered slightly at Winter’s look. ‘She went after him. She said he was a good friend of hers.’

  ‘Where’s your husband?’

  She swallowed. ‘In the pub.’

  ‘And your other son? Alistair?’

  ‘I … I … don’t know. Out with his pals, maybe.’

  Winter’s fists clenched. ‘And where exactly did Gareth go to find the sheep?’

  ‘I don’t know that either! I…’

  He spun round, abandoning her to return to his bike. Ivy wasn’t here. His next stop had to be Dead Man’s Hill. With his fear increasing, he ignored the woman who had altered her course of stuttering fear to one of rage.

  ‘You bastard! Coming into my house and threatening me! I’ll have the police on you! My son can do magic, you know. He’ll hurt you for what you’ve just done! He’ll turn your insides out!’

  Winter revved the engine and took off without once glancing back.

  ***

  He was still a long way from the cemetery and the hill behind it when he saw the lights. As far as he could tell, they were man-made and nothing to do with magic. All the same, he continued to gun the engine. What the hell was Ivy thinking? What was really going on? Winter pressed down on the accelerator. He’d ask questions later.

  The moment he reached the entrance to the graveyard, he flung down the bike. Its wheels were still spinning when he took off in the direction of the lights. There were shouts and screams, each one sending a bloodcurdling chill down his spine. Then he saw Ivy, suspended in the air above a small group of peop
le, her face contorted in an expression of pain and horror.

  No.

  Winter ran forward, his hands raised. In quick succession he threw out every single protection rune he could think of. Each one bounced uselessly off Ivy’s body. Her mouth opened as if in a scream and her body began to shake violently.

  Winter sped past a kid, who was pulling himself up from the ground with a dazed expression, and headed directly to her. Her eyes moved to him and for the briefest moment she seemed to relax. Her lips formed three unmistakable words that made his heart stop. Then the life seemed to go out of her, like someone had flipped a switch.

  He was less than a foot away when she dropped like a stone. Winter held out his arms and caught her just before she hit the ground. There was an odd, beatific smile on her face.

  For one brief moment, her eyelids fluttered open and his hope flared. ‘Benjamin?’ she asked. Less than a second later, her body went limp and her eyes closed.

  Doing his best to quash his panic, Winter laid her down gently. He couldn’t feel a pulse. He dipped his head closer to her mouth. No breath. Shit. With his mouth dry, Winter began compressions, pounding on her chest. ‘Call a fucking ambulance!’ He breathed into her mouth. Then he continued compressions again.

  ‘Let me help.’ A youngish man with a Scottish brogue knelt down next to him.

  Winter didn’t stop what he was doing but raised his eyes for long enough to scan the man’s face. ‘Name?’ he barked.

  ‘G … G … Gareth.’

  Winter gave Ivy another breath. Then he took half a beat to draw a rune and send the man flying backwards.

  The kid let out a cry and ran towards him. ‘Gareth! What did that bastard do to you?’

  Winter paid them no further attention.

  ‘Adeptus! I know first aid. We can work together.’ Barry, Ivy’s erstwhile producer, fell heavily to his knees and took over the compressions. All the while, Ivy’s skin turned paler and paler and she didn’t move once.