Page 8 of Sparkle Witch
I focused carefully, using magic not only to return it to its original position but also to transplant back its living cells. There was no guarantee it would work; returning what was essentially dead back to a state of being alive was impossible with fauna and almost impossible with flora. But with the correct concentration and effort, I could just about knit the broken tree back together. Only time would tell if I’d succeeded but, given this was my fault, I had to try even if the spell left me feeling weak and gasping for air.
‘That was amazing,’ whispered the older guard, his eyes wide.
His companion stared at me. ‘Are you okay? You’re looking rather green.’
I clutched his arm for support. ‘I’m fine,’ I wheezed. ‘I’ll do anything for the environment. And for the railways. It’s for the good of us all.’ It took just about everything I had not to keel over. I raised my other hand and pointed at the train. ‘I’m supposed to be on that.’
‘We’ll arrange a first-class seat for you straight away!’ he exclaimed.
‘A cup of tea would be great too,’ I murmured.
‘No problem.’
‘And some chocolate biscuits. They help with the, uh, recovery.’
He gave me a benevolent twinkle. ‘You can have whatever you like. You’ve really saved our bacon by sorting out that tree. It would be chaos otherwise and you’ve no idea how cross people get when there are delays. It’s our lucky day that you were here.’
Lucky indeed. I looked up to see a disapproving male ghost wearing what looked like a nineteenth-century suit. Hopefully it wasn’t old Isambard himself. Hastily muttering that I needed to sit down, I avoided his gaze and made my way onto the train.
***
The tea and biscuits helped. By the time I arrived at Banbury half an hour later, I’d managed to stuff several small packets into my pockets and was feeling more like myself.
It was just as well that Iqbal’s new workplace was close to the station because I wouldn’t have made it otherwise. There was still a distinct wobbly feeling in my legs but that might have been the sugar hit. All the same, I told myself to stop playing around and start acting like the witch I was supposed to be, not the witch I was.
I found my old friend in a small windowless office, buried under what seemed to be a mountain of paper. I wasn’t the only one whose life had changed dramatically in recent months. With his thesis finally finished, Iqbal had found gainful employment with the Arcane Historical Society. None of us were certain what he did – I didn’t think that even he knew – but he’d landed on his feet. While it might be annoying that the society members maintained arcane standards and avoided technology as if they were witches themselves – which was why I’d had to travel here rather than simply telephoning – Iqbal’s office was deep in the bowels of the building so he was rarely disturbed. He managed to spend most of his days reading. In fact, he was so intent on whatever ancient document he was attempting to decipher that he didn’t notice me until I called out a chirpy hello. Then he leapt up out of his chair in shock, almost tripping over the nearest pile of dusty books.
Clasping his hand to his heart, he stared at me. ‘Flipping hell, Ivy! You scared the life out of me. Don’t you knock?’
I shrugged. ‘The door was open.’
He peered at me more closely. ‘Are you alright? You don’t look well.’
‘I had to perform an elaborate spell to get a tree off the railway lines. Essentially I re-rooted it.’ Boom boom.
Iqbal blinked. ‘Seriously? A tree fell down and you bespelled it alive?’
‘I think so.’ I was keen to get off this subject. I reached over, narrowly avoiding his wastepaper basket which didn’t look as if it had been emptied since the Victorians opened this society, and gave him a hug. ‘It’s good to see you. I don’t have long though. I’m on a mission.’
He grinned at me. ‘Sounds fun.’
More fun than Santa’s grotto. Death by a thousand cuts would be more fun that that. I held up my hands. ‘Look.’
He leaned forward. ‘What?’
‘My fingers are being worked to the bone.’
Iqbal snorted. ‘You need to get Winter to take you away for a holiday. Somewhere warm and exotic.’
‘I think he’s booked one for some time around the year 2050.’ I smirked. ‘Don’t worry though. I’m working on it.’
He punched me lightly on the arm. ‘That’s my girl. Anyway, what can I do for you? I assume you’re here because you need my help yet again.’
‘I need to know everything I can about an object called the Angel of the Order.’
He bowed with a dramatic flourish. ‘Then, my darling, follow me. You can fill me in along the way.’
‘Thanks, Iqqy.’ I reached into my pocket and pulled out some biscuits. ‘And I even brought snacks.’
