Page 7 of Sparkle Witch
I sighed. ‘I thought so.’ I ran a hand through my tangled curls. ‘Some angel thing has gone missing. It was supposed to be on top of the main Christmas tree in the square out front but no one can find it. Apparently its loss will trigger at least one terrible curse.’ I raised a shoulder. ‘Effectively, we’re all doomed – but whether through green pustules or smoking volcanoes, I’m not sure.’
For a moment, Winter’s expression was nothing but pure bafflement. Then it seemed as if a light went on behind his eyes. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said slowly. ‘Are you talking about the Angel of the Order? Made out of pure silver?’ He made a shape with his hands. ‘About this high?’
I pursed my lips. ‘I have no idea,’ I told him. ‘I've never seen the thing. What I do know, Raphael Tobias Sexy-Arse Winter, is that at least one curse is attached to it. If the Angel really has gone missing, disaster will ensue.’ Cue dramatic music.
Winter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I had heard that,’ he admitted.
I jabbed him repeatedly in the chest with my finger. ‘See? See? You're not even the slightest bit superstitious and yet you believe this curse.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Hey, wait a minute. I didn’t say that I believed in the curse. I simply said I had heard of it.’ He frowned. ‘The Angel of the Order is a very valuable object. I hate to think that somebody would steal it.’
‘Maybe,’ I suggested, ‘we should send someone down to the sewers underneath the library to look for it.’ I was referring, of course, to where the sceptre had been hidden after it was supposedly stolen. On that occasion, as well as almost drowning in rotten sewage, I finally realised that Raphael Winter was not the idiot I'd taken him for. Order geek, yes. Highly desirable Order geek? Most definitely.
Winter allowed himself a small grin at the memory before sobering up. ‘I will send someone down to check it out just in case. I think it's most unlikely that Angel is there though, don't you?’ He looked at me. ‘I might not believe in curses, Ivy. I may not be superstitious. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t think the Angel has value. It has always been the centrepiece of each year's Christmas tree. Witches like tradition, and the Angel of the Order is all about tradition. It's not a good thing that it's gone missing, not good at all.’ He shook his head. My Winter was troubled. I wasn’t having that.
I folded my arms and drew myself up, while puffing out my chest and feeling an angry ripple shudder through me. There could only be one reason why the Angel had gone missing: somebody was trying to scupper Winter’s reign as Ipsissimus. Despite everything that had gone before, he still had his detractors. Well, they hadn't banked on me by his side. I would not let anyone hurt him. I didn't want pus-filled pustules on my skin or fiery volcanoes exploding on top of me, but those were beside the point. I was going to find the Angel, find who took it and save the day, dammit. Besides, if I could become the hero of the hour then surely I'd be able to wriggle out of this Santa’s grotto disaster in which I was extricated.
‘You look angry,’ Winter observed.
‘I am angry! But don't worry, I will find this Angel and I will stop the curse, whatever it may be. And I will make sure that no one, witch or otherwise, even thinks about ruining my first Christmas with you. I want you and me alone on the sofa watchingIt’s A Wonderful Lifeand eating turkey and chocolate. Not necessarily turkey and chocolate at the same time but it’s something we could think about. Both are good.’ I didn’t even pause for breath. I was on a roll. ‘There will be mistletoe. There will be snuggles. There will not be evil witches causing curse-filled mishaps and interrupting our holiday.’ I glared at him for full effect. ‘Got that?’ I demanded.
Winter held up his hands and took a step back. ‘You're a scary lady, Ivy Wilde.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Scary?’ I scoffed and scrunched up my nose. ‘You ain't seen nothing yet.’
Chapter Five
I was halfway to the train station when I realised that I’d been so diverted by Winter that I had forgotten to check the train timetable. There were some days when I really missed being a taxi driver.
Despite my pleas to the contrary, my driving licence had been revoked as a result of speeding. I tried to point out that speeding was out character and that I preferred to take things slowly; in fact, the only reason I’d been speeding at all was to stop a serial killer in his dastardly tracks. My words fell on deaf ears, however, and I was now forced to rely on public transport or the goodwill of others to get around. Normally it wasn't an issue; it was easy for me to prevail upon witches of various Levels to drive me to where I wanted to go. But this time I was going it alone. If this really was a plan to destabilise Winter, I didn't want any witnesses when I smooshed the perpetrator into the December-frosted pavements. And smoosh them I would.
Unfortunately, when I finally arrived at Oxford’s railway station the train I wanted was already pulling out of the station. Letting out a small shriek of alarm, I did the only thing that I could.
On the far side of the embankment, and just beyond the platform itself, stood several pretty trees. Given that this mission was a result of a Christmas tree having almost fallen on top of me, I didn't feel bad about sending out a surreptitious rune in the direction of the nearest oak and causing its trunk to snap so that the tree careened onto the train tracks with a heavy thud. There. Magic might not affect the technology of trains but that didn’t mean I didn’t have plenty of tricks up my sleeve to get them to do what I wanted.
A moment later the train came to a juddering halt and it dawned on me that it had been pulling into the station rather than leaving it. All I’d succeeded in doing was delaying its departure. Oops.
There were several gasps of horror from the hovering commuters and two station guards rushed over and gazed in dismay at the blocked railway line. I coughed awkwardly and sidled up.
‘I don’t understand,’ the older one was saying. ‘There’s not been a breath of wind all day.’
I winced.
‘Those trees were planted by the great engineer, Isambard Kingdom Brunel!’ the other guard said. ‘They’re part of our heritage! They’ve stood there for close to two hundred years. I can’t believe one has fallen down.’
To be fair, there were still two left. All the same, I felt distinctly crappy. I cleared my throat. ‘Uh, I can help.’
They both turned to me and I noted a flicker of recognition in the older guard’s eyes. ‘You’re that witch,’ he said. ‘The one shagging the new Hippopotamus.’
‘Ipsissimus,’ I said helpfully.
He frowned slightly. ‘That’s not a word. The leader of the witches is the Hippopotamus.’
I opened my mouth to argue then decided the effort simply wasn’t worth it. If he thought he was the magical witchsplaining expert in this conversation then that was up to him. ‘Whatever. Look, I can help you with this.’
Both guards brightened. ‘You can?’
‘Sure,’ I said easily, inwardly cursing at landing myself in this situation. I glanced over at the fallen tree and sucked in a breath before performing a quick double-runed spell. There was a vast creak and the tree uprighted itself.
