Page 50 of Spirit Witch
Maidmont spotted the ladder and started to hyperventilate whilst the Ipsissimus definitely appeared concerned. Winter just looked a bit puzzled. ‘What’s wrong? Is someone there? Is there a problem?’ he asked.
Jeez. I gasped, trying to catch my breath. ‘Ladder,’ I wheezed.
‘Huh?’ There was a pause. ‘Oh.’
I twisted my head towards him in time to catch his beautiful blue eyes rolling in amusement and exasperation. ‘It’s just a superstition.’
I managed to straighten up, although my breathing still wasn’t back to normal. ‘It’s not just a superstition, Rafe!’ I shook my head and jogged over to Maidmont and the Ipsissimus. At this rate, I’d give myself an aneurysm.
‘How can you let ladders onto this campus?’ I yelled, admonishing the Ipsissimus. ‘And who the hell would leave one lying around like this?’ I swung my head from side to side as if expecting a ninja assassin to appear at any second.
Ipsissimus Collings didn’t look particularly happy but he wasn’t panicking either. ‘There are renovations taking place. We’ve recruited a non-witch construction firm. One of them must have left the ladder here by accident. I’ll have words with them. It won’t happen again.’
I was tempted to continue yelling at him to press home the potential consequences of such death traps in the Order headquarters. Given the circumstances of our visit, however, there were probably more important things to talk about. Brutus, almost as shaken as I was, leapt into my arms. I stroked him, as much to calm myself as to calm my cat.
‘We need to talk about Blackbeard,’ Winter said. ‘There have been some developments with our investigation.’
The Ipsissimus nodded. ‘Excellent. We have some new information too, although I’m not sure how helpful it will be. We should move inside for some privacy.’ He looked around. ‘And so that we’re not in any further danger from construction equipment cursing us to eternity.’
Maidmont looked ready to turn tail and run screaming for the hills. I didn’t blame him; I was tempted to jump on his back and demand a piggyback to the same place. Instead, I stroked Brutus a bit more and remembered to breathe.
‘Sure,’ I said, the epitome of casual behaviour. In fact, if anyone looked up ‘relaxed’ in the dictionary, my photo would be right there. Nobody would be able to tell that I was actually quaking in my boots. ‘That sounds fabulous.’
Winter patted my hand. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘The nasty ladder has fallen down and can’t hurt you any more. We’re all perfectly safe. You don’t have to panic.’
Darn it.
Rather than take us up to his office, the Ipsissimus led us towards a small room on the ground floor of his building. No wonder renovations were underway around the Order; we were in the room that time forgot. It was cramped and, quite possibly, dustier than the top shelf in my bedroom that I couldn’t see over so I never cleaned it. One side of the room was crammed full of books, most of which probably hadn’t been opened in decades. The other side was filled with the strangest examples of taxidermy I’d ever seen.
‘Is that a stuffed deer?’ I asked.
The Ipsissimus didn’t look up. ‘Yes.’
‘With floppy rabbit ears?’
‘Hare,’ Winter interjected helpfully.
‘My favourite is the cat,’ Maidmont said.
I looked round. ‘The one with the horn?’
He nodded cheerfully.
I stared at the three of them. Still in my arms, Brutus growled. ‘What the hell is this place? Have you lot been experimenting with magically spliced animals?’
The Ipsissimus waved a hand dismissively. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. These were all completed post-mortem, and not even by a witch.’
‘They were donated,’ Maidmont said. ‘Along with a generous annual stipend on the proviso that the collection is on display.’
I didn’t care how generous the stipend was, these things were damned creepy. ‘That winged bear is staring at me.’ I bent down to Brutus. ‘Kill,’ I whispered to him. ‘Kill the bear.’ I released him onto the floor with a gentle nudge in the bear’s direction. Brutus threw me a baleful look and darted under the table to avoid the creature’s glassy-eyed gaze. I shuffled over to Winter and hunkered down next to him. He was a bigger target.
‘So,’ the Ipsissimus said, settling back into an ornate mahogany chair with flea-ridden velvet cushions. ‘What exactly have you discovered?’
Winter spoke clearly and succinctly, outlining everything we’d found out so far from Clare Rees, her family and Professor Wiggins. As he spoke, it occurred to me that none of it was good.
The Ipsissimus pursed his lips. ‘I’ve been back here for several hours. I’ve had reports from Human Resources regarding Rees and her coven’s application for admission to the Order. I have to say, there’s not much information. Their application was received two months ago and background checks and initial interviews with friends and family members were started.’
Two months ago. By that point they were all already dead.
