17

As soon as Avery was back in White Haven, her mobile phone rang. It was Briar, and she sounded excited.

“Avery, I got hold of Newton, and he agreed.”

“Agreed to what?” she asked, trying to pull into the side of the road while she spoke. She still felt flustered by her encounter on the beach.

“To let us into the museum.”

Avery was silent for a moment, dumbfounded. She hadn’t really thought Briar would call him, and she certainly didn’t expect him to agree. “Are you kidding? I mean, you actually asked him?”

“I said I would. I told him we would try to close the doorway, and he agreed.”

“Wow. I did not expect that.” She gazed out of her window at the traffic which snaked its way through the narrow streets in the centre of the town. Sundays did not make the place any less busy. “What time?”

“Late. After midnight. But can we do it?” Briar sounded worried. “I mean, have you got a spell ready?”

“I have something that may work, but I’d like to see if El or Alex have had any luck.”

“Alex is working, remember?”

Avery exhaled slowly. “I forgot. Look, Briar, I met someone on the beach, and he threatened us.”

“Are you all right? What happened? Who was it?” she asked in a breathless race.

“I’m fine. He materialised out of thin air, and he’s called Caspian Faversham. It’s a stupid name.” She snorted, glad she could ridicule him in some way.

“Who the hell is that?”

“I have no idea. Look, I can’t talk now, I’m parked precariously. Come around to mine later, and I’ll explain everything. And we can talk through the spell I’ve tweaked.”

Briar was silent for a moment. “I’m not sure I can cope with demons again.”

“I’m not sure I can either, so we better seal that doorway.”

***

Avery returned to her worktable in the attic, and this time spread Anne’s research around her. The need to find her own old grimoire was now more urgent than ever. There was no way that she would let Faversham get it.

Anne had been rigorous in her documentation. Her family tree was exhaustive and fascinating. It was strange to see her family line travelling back so many generations. Her finger ran across the paper as she focussed on old names, all of them unfamiliar except for the most recent and Helena; her name was a beacon for all the wrong reasons. She could kick herself for not going to the museum sooner.

And what if Briar was right? What if Newton was from another old family who had abandoned their witchcraft and their place in the town history? What did this mean about the DI? It seemed he knew more than he wanted to say. Any normal person would have scoffed at supposed doorways to another dimension, but he didn’t blink. And moreover, who was Caspian Faversham? And were there others they had no idea about? What did these old grimoires really hide? She sighed. So many questions. Avery thought she knew the history of White Haven, and her place in it, but now she sensed there was a lot that had been hidden.

She soon abandoned Anne’s histories, and instead pulled a couple of books towards her that described the history of White Haven. They were small imprints, written by local authors. One was only a few years old, and the other had been written decades ago.

She looked at the most recent. The cover had a black and white photo of White Haven on it. She skimmed the contents. It seemed the book described the history of the town from the Doomsday records, but a lot of the content was on the witch trials, and then progressed on to the smuggling in the later centuries—the Cornish coast was renowned for it—before it reached the present. She flicked to the back cover and found a picture of the author, an older man named Samuel Kingston, and wondered if he still lived locally. She’d check later.

She glanced at her watch. She’d text Alex and El about meeting later; she was sure they’d be around to help. But for now, everything she needed for the spell was prepared. She could finally relax and read.

***

Avery roused later from a light sleep, stretched out on the old sofa, her book on the floor. Shadows were creeping across the room, the temperature had dropped, and her stomach was uncomfortably empty.

She headed down to the kitchen to heat some soup and thought about what she’d learned from the history book. It seemed the Witchfinder General had come searching for several locals who were renowned as cunning folk—the term used for those who helped their local communities through pagan beliefs and healing. Although they were generally respected, when hysteria started to sweep the villages, fear superseded rational thought and a few were accused of witchcraft. Kingston mentioned the names of several women and men who had been interrogated, but she only recognised a couple. Helena’s, and the surname Jackson, which she presumed must be Gil’s ancestor. According to the records, two locals had been drowned through the testing of their witch abilities—if you survived the attempted drowning you were condemned as a witch anyway, and Helena was burned at the stake.

Avery was embarrassed by how little she knew about the actual facts of the investigations. All she’d really known about was Helena. She had no idea about the drowning tests. And disappointingly, there was no name of Faversham in the records, or Newton, for that matter. Kingston must have had access to all the records of the trials, and she wondered if she could access them, too. Maybe there was more he hadn’t published; more names that could explain what had happened. Avery still couldn’t believe that Helena wouldn’t have used her powers to escape, despite what Alex said about saving the others. Something just didn’t add up.

She sighed, frustrated, and took her soup and toast to the sofa and switched on the TV. She needed a distraction, something normal. Unfortunately, she found the news. There was a local report about the break-in at the museum and the cleaner’s disappearance. At least there was no mention of sorcery and doorways to other dimensions. The trouble was, would it stay hidden?

There was a knock at the door, disturbing her musing, and she found El outside, looking determined.

“Are you okay?” Avery asked, as she welcomed her in.

El slung her heavy backpack onto the sofa. “That grimoire is baffling, amazing, and frustrating. I’ve already found out so much that I could use in my metal work, but there’s stuff I need time to get my head around. And,” she paused, looking at Avery as if wondering how to phrase what she was going to say next.

“Go on,” Avery said. “I have a feeling things are going to get a lot weirder around here.”

“Well, I now have spells to summon demons and spirits, specifically to help work with metals and fire. I’m pretty freaked out.” She looked around the room. “Have you got beer?”

“Sure,” Avery said, her heart sinking a little as she headed to the fridge and pulled out two bottles. She popped the caps off and handed one to El. “If I’m honest, I was expecting this. It seems there was a lot of magic our ancestors used that we’re not comfortable with now. Necromancy was common in the medieval period. And it was all in Latin. The church condemned it, and yet the priests controlled it.”

“But I really didn’t expect to find this in our family grimoires.” El took a swig of beer and leaned on the counter, her long hair falling forward and framing her face.

“I think we all have to expect it.” And then Avery had a thought. “Hey, this is actually really good timing, El. I’ve been working on a spell to seal the doorway. Those spells in your grimoire could help—although I think I have one that will work. Have you brought it with you?”

“Sure, it’s in there,” she said, nodding towards her pack. “Briar told me what we’re doing later. Have a look.”

Avery put her beer down and gently pulled the grimoire out, putting it on the counter between them. She couldn’t help but grin. “Wow, El, this is so cool! I mean, look at it!”

The leather cover was dark brown, and a triangle, the sign for the fire element, was burnt into the centre of the cover. Avery ran her hand over the leather, marvelling at how soft it felt, worn over the years by thousands of hands. She looked at El. “I’m jealous. I want to find mine.”

El smiled encouragingly. “You will. I’ll help.”

Avery turned the pages made of old, thick paper, the handwriting changing as the owners had over the years. The language of the early spells was difficult to decipher, and some were in Latin. She found the spells about summoning demons early in the book, written by the witches from the medieval times. The drawings were complex, but made carefully and precisely. There were pictures of pentagrams, circles, double circles, inverse pentagrams, and invocations, all with instructions beneath them.

Avery took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, looking at El. “Wow. Again. Let’s go upstairs, compare it to what I have, and see what you think of my spell. Although, I’m not planning to mess with the doorway. I just want to seal it into a protection circle.”

“Sure,” El said, gathering up the book. “I’m going to call Gil and Reuben about tonight, if that’s okay. Strength in numbers.”

Avery nodded. “With luck, we’ll seal the doorway and won’t see any demons at all.”

***

The museum stood dark and forbidding that night, and the group sheltered in the shadows of the back wall. Police tape sealed the front and rear entrances, and the only sound around them was the crashing of the waves against the sea wall.

They had parked up the road, out of sight, and walked down, immediately heading to the back of the building where they couldn’t be seen by the casual pedestrian.

Alex looked at them and grinned. “Is this ninja witch night?”

Briar shivered, despite the warm night air. “I don’t feel like a ninja.”

“I don’t either, but I’ll do my best,” Reuben said, from where he stood next to El, his silhouette lean and tall.

Avery looked at them, and despite her nerves, had to laugh. They were all dressed in black—black tops, black jeans, and boots, and everyone with long hair had tied it back. Reuben and El had even pulled black hats over their bright, light hair. She looked at Alex. “Well, we do need to be discrete.”

“Even with a police escort? Where is he, anyway?” he asked, referring to Newton.

“He’ll be here soon,” Briar assured them.

“I’m not sure I even like the guy,” Gil said. “He could arrest us after this.” Gil had been reluctant to come, thinking the whole thing felt like a trap.

“I’m not sure there are laws about prosecuting witches anymore,” Alex reasoned. “Anyway, here he comes.”

They looked across the car park and saw the tall figure of Newton approaching. When he reached them, they could see he had come dressed in similar clothing to them—the suit had gone. He looked more approachable in his casual clothes, and his short hair was ruffled.

He glanced at them all, but spoke to Briar. “Thanks for the call. You did the right thing.”

“We’re not murderers, Newton, despite what you think of our beliefs,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Gil stepped forward, his face grim. He was shorter than Newton, but he looked up at him, meeting his stare. “Forgive my disbelief, but the police don’t normally encourage magic on the site of a murder. In fact, the police, like the general public, usually refuse to believe in magic at all.”

Newton’s face was implacable, especially in the dark. All Avery could see were the firm lines of his cheeks and chin, and a dark glimmer in his eyes. “Well, I’m not most police, and I certainly don’t want any more deaths in White Haven. Are we going to get on with it?”

Gil remained silent, trying to assess Newton, but Alex answered. “Yes, let’s get it over with.”

“Have you got what you need?”

“Yes,” Avery answered. “It’s all in my pack, and Briar’s.”

Newton nodded and led them to the back door, pulling away the police tape and taking a key from his pocket. Avery watched him as he turned the key, opened the door and listened for a moment, then stepped inside and gestured to them to wait.

Avery swallowed nervously, her heart pounding, hoping he’d return and that something wasn’t already lurking. The wait seemed to last forever, but then he was back, calling them inside, and they shuffled in after him, the last one in shutting the door behind them.

The inside of the museum was pitch black, other than the broad beams of their torches, and Newton led the way into the main room. “Watch the floor. The blood’s still here, but it’s dried now. And don’t go in the kitchen.”

Avery glanced in there as she passed and saw there was a large pool of congealed blood still on the floor. The smell was stronger than ever, and she stepped quickly past the opening, focusing only on what she needed to do.

Once in the main room, she looked around, assessing the space and where best to position themselves. She looked at the archaic symbols drawn on the wall with renewed interest now that she had been studying others like it all afternoon. There were similarities, but also strong differences. It looked even more menacing than she remembered.

“So, what’s the plan?” Newton asked.

“We have no idea how to close the doorway,” Avery said, “so we can’t prevent anything from coming through. But, we do know how to make a powerful protective circle around it, and we can make a devil’s trap within it.”

“A what? I thought this thing let demons and spirits in?” Newton asked, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s called a devil’s trap, but essentially it will trap any spirit, ghost, or demon form that comes through there. In theory.”

“So, it might not work?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not something we do every day, Newton, so no, we’re not sure.”

“But you are witches?” he confirmed, his arms crossed as he looked at them.

Avery felt the knot in her stomach intensify. This was a subject they’d been dancing around with Newton.

“Yes,” El finally said, looking him squarely in the eye. “Good ones. And by that I mean good in intent. But we’re not as powerful as whoever made that.”

“What were you doing up at Hawk House the other night?” he asked.

“None of your business,” El snapped.

“I’m just going to get on with preparing everything,” Avery said jumping in, and placed her bag on the floor, well away from the blood and the area they were going to seal.

Alex and Briar bent down next to her while the argument and interrogation about the other night continued. She pulled out a selection of candles, incense, her chalice, cauldron, the chosen herbs, and the potion she had made earlier.

Briar fetched a huge bag of salt from her bag and Avery’s grimoire. “Here you go, Avery. I’ll mark out the circle.” She walked off and left her with Alex.

“So, how are you feeling?” Alex asked, watching her. He sat on the floor, his presence unexpectedly calming.

“I’m okay. Getting used to dealing with demons, I guess.” She looked up at him, and he held her gaze.

“You should come over to my place later. There’s safety in numbers.”

Avery’s heart immediately started racing, but instead she said, “Er, yes, maybe.”

He looked slightly nonplussed. “Maybe?”

“You’re distracting me, and I need to concentrate,” she said, looking away and feeling flushed. Was she suddenly fourteen again?

“I make a great breakfast,” he said, still watching her with a speculative look on his face and the hint of a grin. “But I’m serious. There’s safety in numbers, and there’s a lot of crap happening.”

She smiled, but it faltered as she thought of her encounter on the beach. “I know. And there’s something I need to share with all of you later. Something that happened earlier.”

“What?” he asked, his grin disappearing.

“Later. We need to get this done.”

He sighed. “All right. Now, tell me what we need to do again.”

Avery had already outlined the spell she’d planned, but she went over it again before pulling another old book on necromancy from her bag. She flicked through it until she found a picture of a pentagram surrounded by a double circle, filled with images and runes. “This is the devil’s trap. We need to draw it on the floor under the doorway.”

“What with? Please don’t say blood.”

“A mixture of my own design.” She pulled a dark bottle out of her bag that was stoppered with a cork and cupped it gently, a warm glow suffusing out of her hands and into the potion in the bottle. She said a few words quietly under her breath, and the light increased, even as she passed it to Alex. “There you go. I’ll be with you in a minute—don’t start it yet!”

He leapt to his feet, taking the bottle and the necromancy book with him. Avery called over to El, Gil, and Reuben, who were still arguing with Newton. “Hey, guys. We need to prepare the room. Here are some candles, and we need them placed at certain points.”

The arguing stopped immediately and they placed the candles as instructed, while Briar placed some just outside the large salt semi-circle she had made that touched the walls on either side of the dimensional doorway.

While they were getting the room ready, Avery prepared the altar on the floor within the semi-circle, and she saw Newton watching. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave?”

“No. I need to see this.”

“But nothing will happen, hopefully. At least nothing will come out of that doorway.”

“You don’t know that.”

She sighed. “No, I don’t. Something may come out of it right now, and then we’ll all be in trouble. But you know more about this than you’re letting on.”

He remained silent.

“Now who’s being stubborn?” She looked around at the others. “Are we ready?”

They nodded and she turned back to Newton. “Stay back—whatever happens.”

Alex stood ready to begin marking out the trap, the dimensional doorway looming over him. The rest lined up along the inner edge of the salt circle, the altar in front of them. Avery recited the spell line by line, the others repeating it. She felt the energy in the room start to rise as Alex daubed the floor with the mixture she’d given him, copying the trap carefully and precisely.

It took some time to complete, and as they continued to chant the spell, the air crackled with power and the complex design of the trap glowed in the muted light.

As soon as Alex had completed the final outer circle, he stepped back to meet the others, their hands linking as he joined them in the spell, and their voices rose on the air as if they had developed a life of their own.

There was one final step Avery needed to complete, and she reached for the bowl containing the other herb spell mixture she had brought, looking up at the complex shapes and runes of the doorway. It pulsed with a dark power that emanated from whatever was beyond; she could feel it far more acutely now. She sensed its malevolence and an age-old evil that was unlike anything else she’d experienced. When she started this spell, a large part of her was worried, fearful even. It was so different from anything she had done before, but now as the power of the others flooded through her, she felt excited at what they could do together. They were far more powerful than Faversham realised.

While the others continued to chant, Avery daubed the mixture on the cardinal points of the devil’s trap, the salt circle, and on the wall. She then stepped back to the altar and invoked the Horned God and the Goddess, calling on them to strengthen the spell.

Once again Avery floated off the ground, pulled upwards by an invisible force as energy raced through her like a lightning bolt. There was a crack in the air like thunder, and for a brief moment, the devil’s trap and the protective semi-circle flashed with a dazzling bright white light, throwing them all out of the circle. They landed with a collective thump on the floor, and the candles went out, leaving them in complete darkness.

For a few seconds, there was only silence.

Avery was bone tired. The floor felt cold, hard, and dusty, and the energy that had raced through her body had gone, leaving her spent and exhausted.

Gil called out, “Is everyone okay?”

There was a general rumble of consent, and someone lit the candles, their warm glow once again illuminating the museum.

“I don’t think I’ve ever channelled that much energy before,” Briar said.

“I think I need to sleep for a week,” Reuben added. He lay motionless, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not used to that.”

“You did well,” El said, reaching over to pat his arm. “You’re just out of practice.”

“But it worked,” Alex replied. She could hear the excitement in his voice. “That was amazing.”

Avery rolled onto her side and looked over at him, grinning. “I know.”

She heard footsteps and looked up to see Newton emerge from the shadows, his face grim in the half-light. She sat up. “Newton. I’d almost forgotten you were there. Are you okay?”

He stood looking over them. “I don’t think I fully appreciated what you were before.” His voice sounded flat and hard. “I didn’t like it then, and I certainly don’t like it now.”

Disappointment coursed through Avery, but what did she expect? He wasn’t a witch, whatever his background may be.

“Like it or not,” Alex said, “we have protected that doorway. Now it doesn’t matter what comes through. It won’t get any further.”

Newton glared down at them, his arms folded across his chest. “I will be keeping an eye on all of you, and for now, I’ll be checking in every single day. And I expect one of you to come and check on this place every single day. Do you understand?”

Gil rose to his feet, belligerent. “Yes, we understand. But we’re not the enemy, Newton.”

“Well, until I know who the enemy is, you will remain firmly under my observation—unless, of course, you want to tell me exactly what is going on here?”

They remained silent, and he sneered. “No. I didn’t think so. Well, I have a new job for you. You need to work out exactly how to get rid of that demon doorway so it’s gone for good.”

***

The group met at Alex’s flat. By then it was nearly three in the morning and Avery was tired. The flat was warm and inviting after the chill of the museum, and they lounged around on the sofa or the floor, sipping beer or coffee. Avery had just told everyone about her encounter on the beach.

“So, who is this Faversham guy?” Alex asked. He lay on his side on the rug in front of the fireplace. “I already want to punch him.”

Avery shrugged. “That’s the trouble. I have no idea. He’s not local—well, to White Haven anyway, and he’s not in the written histories we have so far.”

“Well, he seems to know a lot about us,” Gil said, annoyed. “And Newton’s pissed me off, too. We’re not his bloody lackeys for him to be giving us stuff to do.”

“Well, no,” Reuben reasoned. He sat on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him. “But we want to get rid of the demon doorway, anyway.”

“But how dare he tell us what to do! Like he controls us or something,” Gil continued to complain.

“He was pretty mad,” Briar agreed. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with him knowing that much about us, but we don’t have much choice.”

“Wrong, Briar,” Gil said, turning on her. “We could easily have broken into that place and done it without him.”

“But we’d have risked being more implicated in the whole thing,” El said. She was curled up in the corner of the sofa, sipping coffee. “I’m glad he was there. At least he knows we’re trying to help, even if he was being a miserable git.”

“What are we going to do about Faversham?” Alex asked. “At least in our homes and at work, he shouldn’t be able to materialise out of thin air and attack us. But we’re vulnerable anywhere else. We need to know more about him so we can defend ourselves.”

“I’m going to go and visit that local author, if I can,” Avery said. “He may have information he didn’t share in his book.”

“That’s a good idea,” Briar agreed, nodding. “I’d come with you, but I have to open up the shop all week.”

“Me, too,” El said, and most of the others agreed with her.

“That’s okay. I’m happy to go alone.”

“I’ll come, if you can visit on Thursday. It’s my day off,” Alex explained. “I think from now on, we should probably work together.”

Gil had been silent for a few minutes, but now he spoke. “This guy, Faversham, isn’t a ghost. He’s real. Have you looked him up?”

Avery suddenly felt incredibly stupid. “Er, no, actually. I was busy preparing spells. I didn’t think.”

Gil pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Let’s look now.” It only took him a few minutes. “Thank the gods for Google. Caspian Faversham, head of finance at Kernow Industries in Harecombe.” Harecombe was the next town down along the coast. He turned the phone around and showed Avery a photo. “This him?”

She reached for the phone and had a closer look. His smug, handsome face was looking back at her, all smiles in his sharp suit. “That’s him!” She passed the phone around so the others got a look at him.

Gil grinned. “Well, at least we know who he is now. Our enemy number one.”

“I’ve heard of that company,” Briar said.

“Everyone’s heard of them, surely,” Alex said, handing the phone back to Gil. “They’re huge.”

“And,” Gil added, after looking at his phone again, “his father is the head of the company. Mr Sebastian Faversham. And what a silver-haired fox he is,” he said snarkily, showing them his photo, too.

“So,” El said, “he doesn’t mind us knowing who he is, or he’d have never told you his name. He’d have known you’d look him up.”

“Eventually,” Gil said, teasing Avery.

“Oh, sod off, Gil. I was busy,” Avery said, fearing she’d never live this down. “So he’s a powerful witch—or sorcerer. Do you think silver fox Faversham is a witch, too?”

“Probably,” El said. “Feels like a declaration of war to me. Sort of—this is who we are, and there’s nothing you can do about it. They have money and power. And he must be the one who placed the doorway on the wall.”

“So he’s a murderer, too,” Reuben said.

“But we have what they want,” Alex put in, grinning from his spot on the rug.

Avery nodded. “I presume then that you two,” she said, looking at El and Alex, “are not prepared to give up your grimoires?”

“No!” they both replied.

“Good. Not sure how he’ll take that news, though.”