Page 10 of Sparkle Witch
Chapter Six
Given that initially I’d been trying to stop someone from making life difficult for Winter and that I was now attempting to avert an actual apocalypse, I was feeling remarkably chipper. Maybe it wasn’t just my giddiness at seeing Eve and Iqbal get it on; maybe I was also being infected by the holiday spirit. I might not have worn the Santa suit for long but it could have rubbed some Christmas magic onto me. I wouldn’t put it past Maidmont to have imbued the fabric with some kind of happy-making spell. If that were the case, of course, then it was even more miserable being St Nick than I’d already experienced. The real Santa certainly had a cushy enough life though – I wouldn’t mind only working one day a year. Assuming I wasn’t swallowed by the earth. Perhaps I’d suggest it to Winter later.
With that thought in mind, I made my way back hastily to the Order, avoiding any more interaction with trains or trees at the station. I had good reason now to involve as many witches as possible in locating the Angel. Certainly Abigail and the other Neophytes who’d been dressing the tree knew about the Angel’s disappearance so they were already panicked. I didn’t have to worry about worrying those who were already worried. I turned that over in my head a few times; it made sense to me.
Munching on another biscuit as I walked, I followed the nearest pale-faced witch. Before too long I found myself faced with a large group of them.
‘Ivy!’ Abigail dashed over to me. ‘You’re still here! We’ve been searching and we can’t find the Angel anywhere.’ She pointed behind her. ‘Adam found its box but it’s empty apart from some odd gunk.’
Smoothing my features to make myself appear as brisk and business-like as possible, I glanced over at the box and then at Abigail. ‘Odd gunk?’ Odd gunk was never innocent.
Adam, another Neophyte who looked about the same age as Abigail, pointed. I squinted. There was a small clump of something brown, dried and crusty. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t pretty. I leaned over to get closer and gave it a cautious sniff. There was a faint fishy odour but I couldn’t detect anything else.
‘Perhaps,’ Adam interjected helpfully, ‘the thief left this as a calling card.’
‘A little pile of dried goo?’ I could think of more elegant ways of leaving your mark. ‘Was the box open or closed when you found it?’
He bit his lip. ‘Open.’
‘So this odd gunk might be mouse droppings.’
He shook his head. ‘No. Mouse droppings look more like grains of rice.’
I gave him a long look. ‘First of all, mouse droppings were just an example of how anything could have fallen, or been deposited, into the Angel’s box. Second of all, how do you know so much about mouse poo?’
Adam’s eyes lit up. ‘We’ve been using it in our herblore studies. Apparently if you combine mouse droppings with some dried rosemary and—’
I held up my hands. I really didn’t want to know. ‘Has anyone done a tracing spell?’ I enquired. ‘You know, to see who’s been near the Angel recently and provide a shadow of what’s past?’
The expression on Abigail’s face told me what I didn’t want to hear. ‘Several of us. We even combined our magic to give it a shot. Nothing came up. And of course we have no way of knowing when the Angel was stolen. It might have been the first week of January for all we know.’
It wasn’t likely, given that the curse had not kicked in yet, but it was a nice thought. I gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure it will turn up but let’s put all our efforts into finding it. Where is the Angel normally kept when it’s not on top of a tree?’
‘The Antiquities department.’ Abigail paused. ‘We’ve been over it from top to bottom. The Angel’s definitely not lurking in some corner.’
I considered this. ‘Is anything else missing?’
Abigail’s eyes went wide. ‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. But perhaps the Angel was just the subject of a random theft. If that’s the case, other things might have been stolen too.’
She straightened. ‘We didn’t think to check. I’ll send a group back over there now.’
‘Good.’ I tapped my mouth thoughtfully. ‘Have most witches heard of the curse?’
‘Yes. I mean, I thought everyone knew about it until I spoke to you.’
I snapped my fingers at a couple of witches hovering nearby. ‘Go to HR. Find out which witches have put in complaints over the last year.’
Eager to please, they bobbed their heads with vigorous, youthful enthusiasm. They’d learn. ‘What kind of complaints?’ the shorter witch asked.
‘Anything against the Order or against Ipsissimus Winter. It’s possible we’ll find someone who is holding a grudge and is looking for revenge.’ After all, it was difficult to imagine that a non-witch had snuck in and stolen the Angel; the rest of the world tended to be wary of the Order. ‘There might be some non-Order covens looking to make their mark as well.’ I gestured at some other Neophytes. ‘You lot start investigating the local covens. Have any been seen in the neighbourhood recently?’
They bowed deferentially, making me feel oddly flustered. Abigail stared at me with something akin to awe. ‘You’re so good at this.’
‘Delegation? I’ve had a lot of practice.’
‘I meant investigating crime.’
