Page 49 of Familiar of the Witch

‘What is your purpose in coming here?’ the ogre asked.

‘I intend to pay an exorbitant amount of money for the harkan crystal,’ Bastion responded.

‘True,’ the lady murmured. Was she an empath relying on the truth runes we stood upon, or a truth-seeker like Jinx? I hadn’t heard of another one in at least a generation. I studied her with interest. She looked like a firm breeze would push her over.

‘Obviously,’ the ogre snorted. ‘He’s standing on enough runes to force Nixon to tell the truth.’ In a less dire situation, I would have laughed. ‘Have you killed someone recently?’ he asked.

‘Of course,’ Bastion said smoothly.

‘And you?’ The ogre pointed to me.

‘Yes,’ I said simply.

‘Do you have any phones onyou?’

‘No,’ Bastion declared.

‘No,’ I confirmed. Bastion had warned me that it was unlikely we’d be able to take phones or weapons inside, so my tote bag, potions, athame and our phones were tucked behind a bin a few streets away. I hoped they’d still be there when we got back. Bastion still had his backpack in his hands, which looked somewhat incongruous with the cloak.

The ogre patted us down impersonally and we walked through the metal detectors. He rooted around in Bastion’s bag then looked impressed. I should have looked to see what was inside it; it couldn’t be weapons because he handed it back to Bastion without further comment.

I heard steps behind us and turned. Another cloak wearer was waiting patiently. Huh. How many of these bespelled cloaks did the Seers make?

The ogre waved us in. ‘What is your purpose in coming here?’ he started asking the next entrant.

We swept inside.

Chapter 39

The room was depressingly large, as was the number of its occupants. I stared around in dismay, though thankfully the cowl hid my reaction. There were so many witches here. How could so many have followed a path of evil?

I heard some words in French and then some German. Relief sank in as I realised this wasn’t just the UK’s black witches but evidently some of Europe’s, too. It appeared that the black Coven was a worldwide outfit. Brilliant.

I tried not to let my apprehension slide across my bond to Bastion. We were in a room full of people who killed for power and they weren’t going to let a spying white witch walk away; if we were discovered, it would be curtains for me. I tried to shove down my apprehension. Didn’t the prophecy say that the black witches would tremble at me? At the moment it felt like the other way around.

Everyone was in disguise and, almost without exception, they were using Seer-bespelled cloaks. How much were the Seers making out of the black witches? That was certainly a line I could tug; if I could get names of who purchased them, I’d have one heck of a suspect list. I wasn’t sure if Liyana would share that information, though she’d seemed to warm a little to me by the end of our meeting. If she refused, the only way to get that list would be through the Connection and I was loathe to involve the Inspectors.

There was a tangible aura in the room. Power and darkness crackled in every recess and alcove of the building. Everyone here used blood, torture and death to augment their magic. There were obvious cliques, too: huddles of four witches here or five witches there.

Bastion and I stood out like a sore thumb as the only twosome. Witches, even black witches, need to be a part of a Coven. Heads twisted towards us and, although I couldn’t see the suspicious glares hidden under the cloaks, I was certain they were there.

I threaded my arm through Bastion’s and deliberately moved us a little closer to another group under the guise of examining the room’s centrepiece. It helped us blend in a little more. I hoped.

The sumptuous room had polished teak floors. Teak is hardwearing and I dreaded to think what use these floors had seen. Black columns rose floor to ceiling and the walls were freshly painted a soft cream that complemented the red carpets on various raised daises. Chairs had been set out, and in the centre of the room there was a vase on a pedestal holding an opulent floral display.

The items that were up for sale weren’t on display. There was no catalogue to browse through, so I guessed they were planning a big dramatic reveal. Waiters and waitresses circulated offering sparkling wine and I looked at it longingly. I took one in order to fit in, but I didn’t dare sip it. The last thing I needed was to consume some sort of hidden potion or poison. My entanglement – and poisoning – with Becky was fresh in my mind.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ Frogmatch piped up. ‘I was nervous that killing that fly last week wouldn’t count as me properly killing someone.’

‘You killed afly?’I was aghast. We’d risked his life by bringing him, believing that he’d recently killed. There I was, imagining Frogmatch sabotaging cars and buses and killing innocent humans, and this whole time his crime had been to kill a fly.

‘It was a really big one,’ he said defensively. ‘And it wouldn’t get out when I opened the window.’

I couldn’t see Bastion’s face but I knew he was grinning. ‘You could havedied!’ I hissed.

‘We’ll discuss it later,’ Bastion interrupted. ‘Eyes on the prize, everyone.’ His gentle rebuke was enough to calm me. He was right: now wasn’t the time, but we would examine Frogmatch’s foolhardy attitude later. I was going to write him a full report about all the things he’d done wrong, but for now I shelved it. We didn’t need to draw any more unwanted attention.

Bastion and I waited patiently for the auction to begin as our wine slowly warmed in our hands. The murmur of voices around us was infuriating because it was next to impossible for me to differentiate the voices to get any useful intel. I hoped Bastion, with his super hearing, was having better luck.

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