Page 24 of Slouch Witch
‘Allergic reaction.’
I gaped. ‘Half of what the Order believes in is rooted in superstition.’
Winter looked at me. ‘So?’
‘I had you pegged as a full convert, worshipping at the knees of the Ipsissimus.’
‘Oh, but I am,’ he murmured, mockingly. ‘But I don’t blindly believe in nonsense.’
He could have fooled me. We started walking again. Winter was more of an enigma than I’d realised. We drew level with the group of witches, whose chatter immediately subsided in case I was in any doubt about what – or rather who – they were talking about. In their midst, Tarquin gazed at me and quirked an eyebrow. I blew him a kiss and kept on walking. As soon as we were past, the whispering started again.
‘You know the way to stop all that?’ Winter asked. His fingers brushed against the skin on the back of my hand and I felt a strange electric shock shiver through me.
I moved my hand. The whole lot of them could gossip and tattle all they liked. I didn’t care. Much. ‘How?’
He grinned. ‘Succeed.’
Chapter Seven
The library was much the same as I remembered. The old rule about technology was still very much in place, with a total ban on anything that might hint at twenty-first-century know-how. Every so often some bright spark came up with a method to scan the old books onto a computer and, without fail, every time they tried the ink on the original pages vanished forever.
It is one of the reasons witch haters give for their ardent anti-magic protests: that the Order are antiquated and have no place in today’s society. Sometimes I wonder if they have a point.
Nothing in the library building ever seemed to change. Even the smell was the same – that memorable aroma of ink and vellum and leather. Sure, some of the more dangerous books were bound in human skin and the like and rumour had it that some of the Cypher pages were written in blood. Most of what was here, however, was paper. The only thing the librarians seemed to fear more than mobile phones was fire.
Winter directed me to a study carrel that reeked of stale marijuana. I was happy to wait while he ventured out to get me the books I was apparently required to read in order to be deemed good enough to work alongside him. I kicked off my shoes and leant back in the chair. Catnaps are good for the soul. Unfortunately, as seemed to be my lot these days, my opportunity for twenty winks was interrupted by yelling. A lot of yelling.
A few minutes later, Winter burst back in. ‘Training is over,’ he said.
I jumped up and clapped my hands. ‘Excellent! You mean I’m free? I can go home?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. It means we have an assignment.’ Compared to his usual demeanour, he seemed positively aglow.
‘Oh goody.’
Winter noted my lack of enthusiasm. ‘We can go back to the gym if you prefer.’ He flung a pile of books at me. ‘And you still need to read those.’
‘Gee, thanks.’ I left the books where they were. ‘What’s the assignment?’
‘The sceptre belonging to the Ipsissimus was on display up on the third floor,’ he told me. ‘It’s been stolen.’
‘Someone stole a big stick?’ Who cared?
‘A big gold stick encrusted with rubies and diamonds,’ Winter said.
Oh. Okay then. ‘Lead the way.’
Winter turned to leave. ‘Bring the books, Ivy.’
‘They’re heavy. I’ll fetch them later.’
‘Be sure that you do.’
I was tempted to stick out my tongue at him. ‘Do you ever get out?’
‘Out?’
I waved my hands around. ‘You know. To a pub? Or a party? Maybe even just to the cinema?’
