Crown of Magic Page 15

  “Oh, no. Are you?” Avery asked, feeling another rush of guilt for not checking in with Sally sooner.

  “I’m still getting that jealous itch, and he’s still a bit more flirty than normal. I think that protective bundle you gave me is helping.” Sally reached for a biscuit, and absently took a bite. “Beltane magic is so unpredictable, have you noticed? I’ve been thinking about this, a lot! It enhances some people’s feelings...sort of brings them to the surface. And for others, it’s just random and not real at all! And it’s flattering to have someone have such feelings for you. You entertain thoughts you wouldn’t normally. You and Caspian are an obvious example. You are now thinking about him in a completely different way, because of what you know about his feelings for you. It’s inevitable.”

  “I suppose it is,” Avery confessed. “And, yes, of course it’s flattering.”

  Sally smiled. “You just have to remember your priorities. As do I, in my marriage.” She paused again, and then noted, “I’ve seen it in the customers, too. You’ve probably been so wrapped up with this play in the last few days you haven’t noticed, but everyone is a little edgy, fragile. I think it can only get worse as the day itself approaches.”

  “It’s not only here, either.”

  “I know. If only this fog would clear, it would be better. It’s so oppressive. And tomorrow, they name the May Queen and Green Man. There will be an announcement in the middle of town. Let’s hope the fog lifts for that. Anyway,” Sally stood and lifted the plate of biscuits. “I’d better go and help Dan. Who, by the way, is having his own Beltane fun!”

  “Is he?” Avery asked, intrigued. “How?”

  “He has a girlfriend!” she said, with raised eyebrows. And with that, she left Avery to her thoughts.

  ***

  At about seven o’clock that night, Avery and Alex hosted the witches, Hunter, and Newton at their flat so that they could catch up on each other’s news.

  Alex had arrived home at just after four when his shift finished. He spent an hour doing accounts in his study off the living room that had been a guest bedroom, and then started to cook a curry. Avery wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, because at the moment everything was coloured by her guilt, but Alex also seemed subdued. She had decided to wait until after the meeting to tell him about Caspian, and for a while she shoved the issue to the back of her mind.

  When the others arrived, they sat around the table, filling their plates and chatting idly. Avery had spent time cleaning her flat and decorating the table, wanting to make an effort like El had, and for a while felt content with her closest friends gathered around her. It was Alex who jarred her out of it, declaring, “I think we can manage this Beltane script spell without Caspian’s help.” He frowned at Avery. “You shouldn’t have called him.”

  “I disagree,” El said, straight away. “I’m really struggling to decipher those sigils. I’ve tried various combinations of runes, and none of them work. I’m looking at other things.” She shrugged. “I can’t work it out, and therefore I can’t counteract it.”

  “Neither can we,” Avery said to her. “Besides, we all know it’s very hard to break another witch’s spell. As for the ghost, if it’s not Rufus Faversham, then who is it?”

  “I think it’s a leap to say it was Rufus,” Reuben said, “suspicious though it is. We shouldn’t close our mind to other possibilities.”

  “But we’re running out of time!” Briar reminded them. “It’s Monday night, and the play ends on Saturday. The last time it also ran for a week, which suggests that this spell will culminate on the final performance, just like last time. We also need to check on the welfare of the actors. They’re two days into the performance. Do we know if they’re okay?” She looked around the table, and they all shook their heads. “We need to address this, soon!”

  “We spoke to Ian, who plays King Mark,” El said, “and he seemed okay at the time.”

  “What’s he like now, though?” Alex asked darkly.

  “Maybe we need to watch a performance,” Hunter suggested. “Or get in there after the performance, maybe tomorrow?”

  Reuben reached for a piece of naan bread and topped up his bowl with curry. “I think we need to steal all the scripts, actually.” He nodded at Newton. “You could get us the addresses for the actors, and we could break in and grab them. That might work.”

  Newton glared at Reuben. “I am not about to search for addresses and let you break into peoples’ houses!”

  “But we’re sneaky, and no one would know. Besides, it’s for the greater good.” He grinned, pleased with himself.

  “The likelihood is that there are a few scripts at the theatre now, maybe left overnight,” Briar reasoned. “And we found modern copies that weren’t spelled. It’s not like we’d be leaving them without a script. Crazy though Reuben’s idea is, I think it would work.”

  Reuben beamed at her. “Thanks, Briar.”

  “But,” she added, “if the spell has already taken hold, stealing the scripts might not stop anything.”

  “I’ll think on it,” Newton said cautiously, also helping himself to more curry. “But maybe you should go there after the performance and see if you can get some copies. You could go backstage to congratulate them—they know you now.”

  “Maybe tomorrow, then,” Avery suggested. “I’m not sure I can face it tonight. I’m knackered.”

  Alex nodded. “I agree. I am, too. And Caspian may have some news tomorrow, I guess. What’s happened to Jamie, the woman who stabbed Lawrence?”

  Newton sighed. “We released her on bail today. She does not have any other criminal charges, and Lawrence does not want to press charges. She’s lucky. Obviously she’ll go to court, but she may get away without being imprisoned.”

  “That’s good,” Avery said, feeling relieved.

  “You know, we should involve Ben, Cassie, and Dylan, too,” El said, sipping her beer and half watching Reuben put away another bowl of curry, an amused look on her face. “White Haven Little Theatre is obviously haunted! They will be furious if we don’t tell them.”

  “But they’re revising for exams and finishing up their experiments,” Briar said. “I don’t think they’ll have time.”

  El shrugged. “We should tell them anyway.”

  “All right,” Briar said, nodding. “I’ll call Cassie. I need to talk to her about work anyway, to see if she wants some hours in the summer.”

  “And maybe we should contact Eve, too,” El added. “She might be able to help shift our supernatural fog.”

  El was right, Avery mused. Eve was a very skilled weather witch, but Avery knew St Ives had its own problems. “If it’s still foggy in the morning, I’ll call her.” Another thought struck her. “Did Rupert come by your shops today with his occult tour?”

  El and Briar both nodded, and Briar said, “I made some decent business from it, too.”

  “He didn’t really linger outside my shop,” El told them, “but that’s fine. I think I picked up some business from it anyway. How did it go here?”

  “Rupert announced that I was Helena’s descendant, obviously, but it was fine. Dan did a very popular talk on the origins of witchcraft, and we sold a few books, so I think we successfully capitalised on Rupert’s drama-mongering, and righted a few misconceptions.”

  For a while they chatted idly, agreeing on their plans for the next day. El said she had time to keep trying to identify the sigils, and depending on what Caspian found out, they formalised their idea to go backstage after the next night’s performance.

  By the time everyone left, Avery was tired, the night before catching up with her, but she knew she couldn’t go to bed until she talked to Alex. They started to clear the table, and Avery summoned her courage. “Alex, I need to talk to you.”

  He paused, his arms full of plates, his face serious. “That sounds ominous.”

  “It’s not really, but I want to be honest with you.”

  “Is this about Caspian?”


  That shouldn’t have surprised her; Alex was always suspicious of Caspian, although he controlled it well.

  “Yes. Can you sit down, please?”

  Alex’s face turned to stone, and he put the plates down. “I’ll stand, I think.”

  Avery went to sit, but realised she couldn’t talk with Alex standing over her. “I need you to listen until I’ve finished.”

  He didn’t answer, instead just folding his arms and looking at her.

  She swallowed and rushed into the explanation of what had happened before the meeting at Oswald’s, and with every word she uttered, Alex became even quieter, if that was possible. Avery could hear her voice rising as she explained about Beltane magic, until eventually he said, very quietly, “You kissed Caspian.”

  “He kissed me, actually—and I stopped it! I pushed him away!”

  “Not quick enough, though. Did you enjoy it?” His dark eyes, normally teasing and lively, were like steel.

  “No! Of course I didn’t. I was quite annoyed about it, actually. I should have told you at the time, but I’ve been trying to pretend it didn’t happen.”

  “And this afternoon? Did you kiss him again?”

  Alex’s complete immobility scared her. “No! And it never will. And Caspian knows that, too.”

  “And yet you didn’t think to see him with me around. Interesting. Clearing up unfinished business, obviously.”

  “No.” Avery inwardly cursed herself. “As soon as Dan mentioned Rufus Faversham, I saw red and had to call him. And it is important!”

  “Yes, and you could have waited for me.”

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to speak to him,” she said, a dangerous edge to her voice. But then, realising that getting angry wasn’t going to help, tried to subdue her annoyance. “I love you, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. I promise it will never happen again.”

  “Sometimes you are so naïve! You are giving him opportunities, but why? Does it give you a thrill?” Alex shook his head and took a deep breath. “I’m going to sleep at the pub tonight.”

  He walked down the steps to the entrance hall, pulled his jacket from the hook, and Avery ran after him. “What? Why? We need to talk!”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. It happened, and now I need to decide what to do with it.” He shot her a long look, then walked out and slammed the door, leaving the glass shaking and Avery staring after him.

  For a second, Avery contemplated whether she should run after Alex, but decided in the end that he was entitled to be furious, even if she thought it was an overreaction. She felt tears start to prick and blinked them away. Tears made her look guilty, and she had nothing to be guilty about! However, she had to admit that she would be annoyed if he’d kissed another woman. She’d been annoyed enough to hear him confess about flirting with Kate in the bar.

  Avery sat on the bottom step, thinking through their conversation. He called her naïve. Was she? Maybe he was right. He’d virtually said the same as Sally...that she gave Caspian opportunities, and maybe she was guilty of that. It was flattering to have Caspian’s attention, but it was also selfish. She wasn’t a teenager; she was a grown woman, she really did hate love triangles, and she was damn sure this wasn’t going to be one. If Alex even gave her a second chance... She groaned at herself. Of course he would. This was an argument, and if their relationship couldn’t survive this, they were in trouble anyway.

  She felt Medea’s warm nose edge under her hand, and she rubbed her thick fur. “I’m such an idiot, pussycat,” she murmured softly. “Come on. We need to tidy up.”

  She walked up the stairs and started to clear the dishes, wishing she had let Briar help when she’d offered earlier, but normally she and Alex would do it together. It was their time to chat about the evening, and wind down. She spelled all the lamps off except for one, and by mostly candlelight she tidied up, filing the dishwasher and wiping down the table, straightening the cushions, and generally trying to work off her nervous energy.

  By the time she’d finished, it was clear she wouldn’t be able to sleep despite her exhaustion, and Avery looked out the window and shivered. The fog was still so thick. She felt like she was in Victorian London. She drifted from the window back to her sofa, and started to read some of the articles Dan had left with her about the actors in the 1960s and their deaths. She had put them on the coffee table in case anyone had wanted to read them, but in the end no one had, and Avery was planning on reviewing them tomorrow. Now however, with her mind racing, she sat down and started to flick through them, depressing herself further with tales of gloom and lost love before she eventually read something that made her pause. In the final few months before her death, Yvonne Warner had worked at a quayside pub called The Silver Dolphin. There were many pubs in White Haven, but there weren’t many by the quay, like Alex’s. Could that mean something? Her eyes finally started to close, and putting the papers aside, she headed to bed.

  17

  When Avery woke the next morning, she was gritty-eyed.

  She had slept badly, having dreamt all night about arguing with Alex. She headed straight to the shower and then got dressed, and it was only afterwards that she looked outside and had a shock. The fog had gone. She opened a window in her attic and stuck her head out, taking deep breaths of the fresh, sharp air, pleased to see the higgledy-piggledly tops of houses winding down to the coast, the sea spreading out like blue silk beyond. And then she frowned. There was still a patch of mist leading out to sea. She shook her head and turned her back on it. It was likely only a lingering mist, nothing mysterious.

  She headed downstairs to make breakfast, and as soon as the hour felt respectable, she called Briar to check if it would be okay to visit later that morning, hoping that Caspian would call early. Once that was arranged, she toyed with the idea of calling Alex, but decided against it. She didn’t want to crowd him, and decided if she hadn’t heard from him by lunch, she’d call him then.

  Dan had already opened the shop up when she went downstairs, and the front door was open, letting in the fresh spring air. He’d also put some music on, and she heard a blues voice singing, “I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine.” Despite her subdued mood, she found herself smiling as she walked across the shop.

  “Who sings this, Dan?”

  Dan was leaning on the doorframe, coffee in hand as he looked down the street. His dark hair was ruffled, and he appeared to be content. He grinned at her. “Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. Like it?”

  “Love it!”

  “Good. I thought I’d kick off the day with good vibes.” He eased away from the door and walked back into the shop. “I’m sick of Beltane woes, and I am determined to make this a good day! Beltane is a celebration! Is it wild and unpredictable and a little bit dangerous? Yes! Is it fun and flirty? Yes! Let’s embrace it, Avery!”

  “Blimey,” she said, following him back into the shop. “I didn’t know we’d been so gloomy and doomy!”

  “Well, we have, and I’m over it. The sun is out, and the May Queen and her consort will be announced today, so I’m celebrating.”

  “Is this something to do with your love life?” Avery asked, as he fiddled with the music and the same song started again, but a different version.

  “Nina Simone,” he explained, before giving her a sly grin. “And maybe, or maybe not. This could be Beltane trickery, but I’ve decided to enjoy it while it lasts.”

  Avery leaned on the counter. “Is this Caroline, the lucky lady who got the benefit of the Goddess’s little tease the other night?”

  Dan looked at her, wide-eyed. “She might be. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  She laughed. “Too late for that, you already did!”

  “Damn it! Pretend I didn’t.”

  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

  While they were talking, Sally came through the front door, looking flustered. “Sorry I’m late, the kids were playing up. What
’s going on with you, Dan? You look...different!”

  “The joys of spring,” Dan said, spreading his arms wide.

  Sally just eyed him suspiciously, looking as if she was going to say more, and then decided against it. Instead she asked, “What time is the crowning of the May Queen?”

  “Midday,” Dan said. “We should close the shop and all go to see it.”

  Sally nodded as she put her bag on the counter and shrugged out of her jacket. “That’s actually a great idea. What do you think, boss?”

  “I agree,” Avery said brightly. “An hour in the sun will do us all good. When’s your next talk, Dan?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully we’ll have as many come to it as yesterday.”

  “Any funny questions about Helena?” she asked tentatively.

  “Not really, just about the witch trials in general. Most people were horrified.”

  Sally snorted. “So they should be.” She glanced behind her as a couple of customers came through the door. “I’m heading to the back to put in an order, and then I’ll be done.”

  As Sally disappeared, the door chimes rang again, and Caspian came in, frowning, and headed straight to the counter. “Hey Dan,” he said, with a nod. “Avery, I’ve found some photos.”

  He was carrying a large brown envelope, and he handed it to her. “These are some of my grandfather. I’m not sure if they’re exactly from that time, but they’re close enough. The script is in there, too.”

  Avery pulled the photos out and smiled as she looked through them. Caspian’s grandfather wasn’t as tall as Caspian, and his hair wasn’t as dark, but there was still a strong family resemblance. “He’s not really the hippie type, is he?”

  Caspian laughed. “Did you really think he would be?”

  Dan was looking over Avery’s shoulder at the images, too. “Your family doesn’t strike me as the bohemian type, Caspian.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. My great aunt Rosalind was quite unorthodox, or so I gather, anyway.”