Witch's Bell Book One (44 page)

“
Are you sure, do you remember
that exactly?”

“
I don't know ...” she took a
rattling sniff. “I fought the man though, because I thought he was
aiming for the woman. I managed to get the book out of his hands,”
Ebony's skin began to prickle, “and just as I did that woman
screamed. Right in my ear, Harry, and it distracted me. That's when
the guy managed to slash me,” she cupped at her injured
arm.

“
Where did the blood go, Ebony?”
Harry's voice was very subdued. “Did you see it afterwards, did you
clean it up with your own hands?”

Ebony shook her head.
“I didn't have
time; the Coven got me just as everything settled down. And then,”
she raised her wrists and tapped her bracelets, “these.”

Harry was silent for a
moment.
“Who
retrieved the book?” he asked with a snap, indicating just how
important he thought it was.

Ebony gulped, suddenly feeling
very cold indeed.
“No one. When I asked Nate, he claimed he didn't know what
I was talking about.”

“
What?” Harry spat, the floor
shaking beneath Ebony's feet. “You left it there?!”

“
Not me, Harry,” she protested.
“I woke up in a hospital bed the next day, and people told me it
had been sorted. Ben assured me that the Coven had solved
everything, that the case was done and dusted. And I just
....”

“
Forgot about it?”

“
I had other things to deal
with,” she croaked through a laugh. “I didn't imagine that the book
hadn't been retrieved, that the spell hadn't been
repealed.”

Harry grumbled, several
bookcases giving a wobble.
“I think we have our answer, Ebony.”

Ebony resisted the urge to sink
through the floor and bury her head in her arms.
“You don't think
...”

“
That your blood got on the book
and consummated the spell? That's precisely what I think. It would
account for what is happening to you now. Your life, your story, is
being rewritten – deleted, destroyed. And in its place, the
Grimshores grow stronger.”

Ebony didn't breathe for a long
while, then suddenly sucked in a gasp.
“But, but, Harry, those files in the
police station suggested that the Grimshores have been untouchable
for years, for almost a century! No matter what's happening to me
now, I can't account for that.”

“
It just means they've done it
before, Ebony, and that they've probably had help. You wouldn't be
the first unfortunate soul that has given over their life so that
the Grimshores can write themselves a wonderful future. And unless
we can stop this, you won't be the last. I've seen it before, you
know, spells like this. Families that maintain their grip on power
through various illegal, inhumane, and thoroughly dark magical
rites. And this is Vale, Ebony. If it was going to happen anywhere,
it would happen here.”

“
But, Harry, isn't this huge? I
mean, the Grimshores own most of Vale, and if those files are
anything to go by, they've had this strangle-hold for years. With
magic like this backing them up, wouldn't the witches and wizards
have gotten wind of it?”

Harry was silent for just a
second.
“You
put too much faith in them, you know. Just because the Coven and
the Council of Wizards purport to regulate magic, it doesn't mean
much. Power and position do not eliminate corruption, Ebony, only
Truth does. Now, can you tell me with total confidence that you
know the truth of your Coven? Do you know their ways, their plans,
their desires?”

Ebony shook her head. Her mother's
face came to mind. The crackling power, the wild hair, the dazzling
skin.

“
All you know is they have the
power, and they'll do anything to keep it. And this, Ebony, can be
said about all ruling-bodies – the wizards and magicians too. You
mark my words. It is absolutely not impossible that a powerful
witch or wizard knows of the Grimshore spell, and even aids them as
we speak.”

Ebony's heart sank.
“Oh no ... Harry,
what do we do then? What happens now? I mean, if it's true, and my
story is being taken over by the Grimshores, then how do I get
away? Won't it simply continue taking away my life?”

“
There are ways and means, dear,
there always are. Nothing is over until the book
closes.”

“
But Harry, I don't get it ...
why is everyone turning against me? I understand that the spell is
taking over my life,” Ebony paused, a sharp memory of Nate grabbing
her wrist and snapping at her to get out coming to mind. “But why
is it working like this?” she gestured towards the front of the
store. “Why have everyone attack me, why have everyone hate
me?”

“
The spell is directed towards
the Grimshores, and away from you, dear. It is a funnel connecting
your life, your history, your soul to them. It also protects itself
from any attempt to be destroyed. Tell me, when did you know for
sure that this spell was taking effect?”

“
When ... when I realized I
couldn't talk against the Grimshores.”

“
Are you sure? What about the
mugging last night?” one of the upstairs blinds gave a
rattle.

Ebony sucked air through her
teeth.
“Just
before I left work last night, I found a box about the Grimshores.
It made me remember about the case,” she shook her head. “It was
after that I was mugged.”

“
My guess is, child, that the
Grimshores were trying get a hold of you,” Harry grumbled, “the
blighters,” he added for good measure.

“
But they've had ample time to
try, why now? And if they have the book, then why not consummate
the spell completely?” she raised her hands to the sky. “It doesn't
make sense. Why draw this out? Why attack me so slowly?”

“
Perhaps they don't have
it.”

“
Don't have what?” she
huffed.

“
The book. Perhaps they don't
have it; perhaps that's why they choose to rewrite you so slowly
and painfully. Because perhaps they have no other
choice.”

Ebony shook her head,
thoroughly confused.
“Why wouldn't they have the book? It was their
spell, after all.”

“
Perhaps someone else does,
child. We can't say for sure. It's simply a hunch, but it's a
strong one. I'd wager that if the book were in their possession,
you would be gone from history now, Ebony Bell.”

Ebony closed her eyes
tightly.

“
So the spell is gathering
slowly – faster, now that you have brought attention to it, tried
to act against the Grimshores – but still, the spell is
incomplete.”

“
So I'm in limbo, then,” she
swallowed. “The more I act against the spell and the Grimshores,
the more my life will be rewritten. The more people will turn
against me,” she sighed, thinking of the welcome kindness Mohammed
had showed her. The more she spoke out though, the less friends
she'd have. Soon all of Vale would be after her ....

“
Limbo? You are in my store, get
a grip, girl! And no, there is always something you can do. It is
the rule of life. Movement and action are ever present.”

“
What then, what do I do?” she
heaved a horribly deep sigh.

“
Think,” he trilled. “Think
wide, think deep – think better than they do, and we'll win
this.”

Ebony pressed her lips into the
barest, thinnest, tiniest smile she could manage.
“I doubt thinking
is going to stop the police from bashing down my door, or my life
from being rewritten ....”

“
Ha!” he chortled, the stairs
rattling. “Thinking is all you have. Thinking comes before magic,
girl, you know that. Without it, magic is nothing. It is the
random, the chaotic, and the unmanageable. But with the right
thought, magic becomes power. If we think better than them, we
become more powerful than them. And if we have more power, we can
reverse this spell. We can stop them from rewriting you, and start
rewriting them. Trust me,” he added with a satisfied chortle, “it
always works on dragons.”

The sound of more sirens
suddenly blared from outside and Ebony turned over her shoulder to
stare in their direction, even though she couldn't see through the
blinds.
“What do they want, Harry?”

“
Ah. That would be what came in
the post. It's downstairs.”

Ebony shook her head.
“What do you mean?
What came in the post? And why didn't you tell me
earlier?!”

“
Because we're planning, Ebony,
and planning can't be interrupted for post.”

Ebony took the stairs heavily, her mug
bouncing around in her hand, shedding little droplets of tea this
way and that.

Even though she knew Harry would last
against the hoard trying to break down his door, Ebony still walked
carefully towards the front of the shop.

The post arrived twice a day: in the
morning and in the afternoon. But never on the weekend. And today
was Saturday.

When Ebony wasn't there, Harry
usually just let the postman in, and made some general noises from
upstairs as if to pretend someone was home. Who knows, he probably
even imitated Ebony's voice and called to the postman to
“put the blasting
post on the bench, you trotters.”

But today was Saturday
....

Ebony very slowly walked up to
the counter and the box that was sitting there. She didn't like
this. Harry accepting post on the weekend.
“Harry, what were you doing letting
the postman in on the weekend?”

“
Oh, it wasn't the postman. It
was a courier,” he said more importantly.

“
Do they work on the weekends?”
she said offhand, as she kept making her careful way towards the
box.

“
I imagine so, they are
important, you know. Hand people far more important post than the
postman,” he said, derision obvious.

“
Okay,” she said with a sigh,
and just grabbed for the damn thing. “What do you think it is?” she
asked as she snatched at the scissors by the counter, cutting at
the packing tape with quick, expert movements.

“
Oh, something magical. I can
feel it.”

“
But if you know it's something
magical, and you know the police and wizards are after it, why did
you let it in?!”

“
Ebony,” he said, the blinds
ruffling with a puff, “I didn't know the police wanted it at the
time. They came later, with those wretched little nancy wizards. I
thought it was just some book from one of your
suppliers.”

By that time, Ebony had opened the
package. Inside wasn't a book, that was for sure. It was a pouch of
Wizard Gold.

Wizard Gold wasn't like the ordinary
stuff. It wasn't shiny and pretty, and you certainly wouldn't be
making rings out of it. It was black, sooty, and looked, for all
the world, like coal. But it was also a powerful alchemical
substance that could be used to turn any metal into gold. With the
right incantations, and a pinch of this black stuff, a trained
wizard could turn a handful of iron ore into a gold
ingot.

It was, obviously, incredibly
valuable. It was the equivalent of having your own fully functional
money-machine.

“
Ah, Harry,” she said, voice
shaking, “this isn't a book.”

Harry had grown momentarily
silent, then all the books sitting on the counter gave a tremendous
flutter.
“Gadzooks,” Harry said, very seriously.

“
Something like that,” Ebony bit
into her hand, pushing the package away from her. “I didn't order
this,” she said weakly.

“
Yha! They would never have
given it to you! That stuff is regulated by the International
Wizard Bank. They have inflation to think about, you
know.”

“
No wonder they're trying to
break down my door,” Ebony leaned on the bench and took heavy
breaths, the desperation of the situation spiraling around her
again.

“
Calm down, child.”

“
Calm down? Where are these even
from?” she spluttered back.

“
Oh, only place in Vale
registered to print gold is Praytors.”

“
Praytors!” Ebony replied, voice
catching. “But there was a break-in there only this
morning!”

“
Well then, I fancy we've just
found out what was stolen,” the books by Ebony all fluttered closed
with a snap.

“
This is terrible,” she groaned,
head collapsing on the bench. “What are we meant to do now? That's
why those wizards are outside, and the police. But how did they
know? I mean,” she straightened up for a second, “maybe they know
it was posted here, but they don't actually think that I'm
responsible,” she patted her chest, hands a little floppy. “So I
can just open the door and give it to them, and everything
will—”

“
Blow up in your face like TNT
in your pocket. Are you mad? Have you learned nothing about today?
Do you really think those wizards are just knocking politely to
have their stuff returned? Get wise, girl, this is all part of the
Grimshore curse. Mark my words, they not only think you are
responsible, and will gloss over the fact that the Gold was
patently posted to you – they will drag you off to prison and
likely bring back witch-death by burning.”