I was going to meet Patrick at the café, but he’d insisted on picking me up, and he even drove normally. Maybe there was hope for him yet. He certainly looked dapper in black jeans and a white T-shirt that wasn’t crazy tight, but showed off his fit physique. The V-neck revealed that he wasn’t hairy, which was awesome. Everyone liked different stuff, and I wasn’t into super hairy. Which was fine because we couldn’t all compete for the same men, now, could we?
He picked a table in the corner—nice and cosy. He ordered the pea-and-ham soup, and this time, I ordered a hot chocolate and a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich.
He took his black sunglasses off and tucked one sunglass’s plastic arm over the V of his T-shirt, letting them hang. “So, what did you get up to this morning?”
“Just a workout at home. Nothing exciting. What about you?”
His expression turned serious. “We had a work meeting. Mrs Valentine’s still missing, and we were deciding whether to have a special tribute show in the next few weeks or wait. We were all hoping she’d have turned up by now, but it’s looking worse and worse the longer it goes on.” His shoulders sagged, and he looked genuinely sad.
“Does anyone know what could have happened to her?” How had I gotten so lucky that he’d brought the subject up without my prompting?
He shook his head. “Nope. Her brother came in late yesterday, asking questions. He seems to think one of the art society members did something to her for the inheritance, but that’s crazy. Why would we? We don’t benefit personally—it’s the people of Westerham and Kent who would get the most benefit.”
“Oh, how so?”
The waitress arrived with our food and drinks. I sipped my hot chocolate—which was definitely yummier than their coffee had been— and Patrick had a sip of his orange juice before he answered. I mini-scrunched my face—I couldn’t help it. Who has orange juice and soup at the same time? I bet he even drank orange juice after he brushed his teeth. Weirdo.
“Well, the society plans to move to bigger premises and hold more shows and competitions—they’re all free for visitors, so not only do the residents win, but it attracts visitors to the area, and we support local artists at the same time. We can also afford to run a couple of free art lessons per week for pensioners and students.”
“That sounds good.” This conversation was okay, but it wasn’t getting me any really juicy information. I stared into his eyes, making sure I looked as earnest as possible. I clung to the fact that I was asking because I wanted to find her—she was a nice lady, and Knight needed justice too. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to her? I mean, I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt her.”
He looked around the café, as if checking for eavesdroppers. He leaned forward and whispered, “Her brother was more than annoyed that we inherited most of her estate—not that we’ll be getting anything soon. No body means a longer waiting time for probate. Don’t get me wrong—I hope they find her alive somewhere. Maybe she was so upset, she became confused and wandered off.” He must have seen my sceptical expression because he quickly added, “It’s happened before, you know.”
“Hmm, maybe. How do you know the art society is getting an inheritance from her?”
“She told us. She decided about six months ago. Ida’s always been one of our biggest supporters, including selling her artwork exclusively through us.” I could swear he sat up straighter and puffed his chest out. I wasn’t in art circles, but was that such a big deal with a lesser-known artist? Who knew?
“So, if something awful has happened to her, you won’t get any more artwork to sell. Which is bad, I’m assuming.”
He nodded. “Anyway, let’s talk of happier things. Do you play tennis?”
I almost suffered whiplash from the change of subject. “Ah, I had some lessons when I was a kid, but I haven’t played for a few years. Do you play?”
“Yes. I was school champion two years in a row. My parents and I play every Monday night. It’s doubles, so nothing too strenuous, and my mother isn’t very good, bless her heart. We normally have another couple who play with us, but they’re on holidays next week. Would you like to attend this coming Monday? I could pick you up at quarter to six. We play for two hours, not even five minutes from here.”
Surprisingly, that sounded like fun. A bit of exercise outdoors would be nice. “I’d love to, but I don’t have a racquet.”
He smiled. “I’ll lend you one. I have several.” Yes, he was being nice, but why did he come across as so pompous? It had to be more than the posh accent. I mean, who brags about having several tennis racquets? Maybe I was being harsh because the PIB were investigating him and his colleagues. From what Patrick said, though, there didn’t seem like much reason for them to need the inheritance, unless the art society was struggling financially. I’d have to ask Angelica later.
We finished lunch, and he dropped me home.
I spent the rest of the afternoon looking through the book Will had given me. The most effective protection spell that covered pretty much everything was the return-to-sender spell, but it used the most power when one was attacked. Because it wasn’t specific to, say, a lightning-bolt spell, it used more magic to pull together the correct way to deflect each different spell. It might only survive three or four attacks before you had to run, providing you still had the energy. The more specific the spell, the less power it used. But the problem was, if you had protection in place for four specific spells, your opponent could see which spells they were by looking at your aura. They could then create a spell you weren’t ready for. The only answer to that would be a quick blocking spell. That would take hours and hours and hours of practice to be able to do on a whim.
I was tired just reading about it all. Because I wasn’t a quitter, I managed to memorise the blocking spell—I’d just have to practice using it. I figured that was the most efficient use of my time, and I’d read over the return-to-sender spell and memorised what it looked like, just in case someone else had it in place. Something nagged at me, though. And then I realised an important point. Very important. If I learned an attack spell—like lightning bolt—I would need to put that protection spell on myself, in case I needed to use the spell against someone with a return-to-sender spell. Providing I was just as strong at magic as they were, I could withstand it far more times than they could if I was specifically protected against that spell and they only had general protection. Hmm, I was cleverer than I thought. I laughed.
“What are you laughing at, dear?” Angelica entered the sitting room. I hadn’t even heard her come home because I’d been so wrapped up in my brilliance.
“Just musing about how awesome I am.” I grinned. “I’ve been reading through this.” I held up the book.
“Ah, yes. William told me he gave you that. Good. It’s time you learned more taxing spells. I think we should practice now. How many spell symbols did you memorise?”
“I wouldn’t say memorise, exactly, but I think I could recognise three or four symbols, but I could be wrong, because if there are other similar ones, I might mistake them for the ones I know.”
“Which one would you like to start with?”
“The main one—return-to-sender.”
“Okay. I'm going to cast a protection spell, and you tell me if it’s return-to-sender.” Her lips barely moved, and then she raised her arms. “Now, pretend I'm about to cast a spell, and read my aura quickly.”
I didn’t waste time agreeing; instead, I tapped into the ever-running river of power and concentrated my thoughts to my third eye while I looked at Ma’am. A golden symbol shone brighter than her aura, although with all the light and similar colour, it wasn’t easy to see. “I don’t think that’s it. It’s hard to tell, but it looks like there’s an extra line cutting across the middle.”
Ma’am smiled. “Very good, Lily. Or was that luck?”
“I’m pretty sure it was my awesomeness.” I rubbed my fingernails of one hand on the top of my shirt, then blew on them and snorted.
“Beginner’s luck, maybe? Are you ready for the next one?”
“Just a moment.” I needed to change the colour of the symbol because it would be clearer. Black would probably work, but now I had to come up with some stupid rhyme. I bit my lip and thought.
“This century, dear.”
“Okay. Go.” I mumbled, “The golden protection symbols are hard to see; make them black and easy to read.”
Ma’am’s aura glowed golden around her, maybe a handspan thick. Embedded in the incandescence directly above her head was a black symbol. And that was the one. I was sure about it, but then I was scared it wasn’t the right one because whenever I’d been sure at school, that was the time I was wrong, as if I expected this to be a “trick question.” “That’s return-to-sender.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ah, will something bad happen to me if I’m wrong?” My mouth went dry. Maybe she’d hurt me a little bit—an electric shot to the bottom?
“Not this time, but if I were an enemy…” She raised her brows.
“Point taken. But I stand by my answer.” A wrong decision was better than no decision; at least that’s how I’d always lived my life. Act now, pay later.
Her expression remained neutral when she spoke. “You’re correct. Good work, Lily.”
I grinned and fist pumped the air. “Yes!” So her praise wasn’t super enthusiastic, but compared to usual, it was a resounding endorsement.
Ma’am shook her head, but I saw the miniscule lip twitch. “Okay, now for the next one.”
We repeated the process for an hour, and I made two mistakes out of dozens of tries. Not bad, if I did say so myself. By the time we finished, I was drained of energy and starving. Ma’am looked at her watch. “Time for dinner. Would you please call Olivia down?”
“Yes, Ma’am. And thanks for working with me.”
“It’s all part of my job. Sorry I haven’t had time to help you much lately. Just some advice: learn the electric shock spell and other subtle ones. It’s not good if you find yourself in public to call down lightning bolts. You’ll create a ridiculous amount of memory wiping for my team. And if a witch causes too much trouble, they can be fined, even jailed. Our security is very important, dear. Our lives could be very different if the public found out who we really are and what we can do. Fear is a motivator for horrific things, Lily. So always put the safety of the witch community before your own.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll make sure to be careful.” I pouted. All those exciting spells I’d been itching to do were pretty much forbidden, unless you were in an empty field or room. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed I couldn’t go zapping and smiting in the most obvious ways. I imagined it would have been very satisfying. A small electric shock to the posterior didn’t have quite the same oomph, kind of like saying fudge instead of f—
“Lily, are you going to get Olivia? I’m sure she’s just as hungry as you.”
I shook the cobwebs from my head. I also remembered I hadn’t tried to see if I felt warmth from Ma’am’s aura. Maybe I didn’t really want to know. “Sorry. Going now.” I hurried up to our floor and knocked on Olivia’s door. Within five minutes, we were all sitting around the dining table in the kitchen, digging into a delicious dinner of lasagne and garlic bread, care of Ma’am’s magic.
As much as I didn’t want to, it was time to ask Ma’am’s permission for my outings. Sweat slicked my palms. I hadn’t felt this nervous about asking something for years. The last time was probably when I was twelve and asking my dad if I could go to the school disco. He’d been strict, and whenever I wanted to do anything, it was a big drama and usually ended in a “no” and me crying in my room for hours. Knowing now what they knew then, no wonder he’d wanted to keep me close to home. “Ma’am, I have a couple of outings I need your approval for.”
She put her fork down. “And where and when are they?”
“I’ve been asked to play tennis with Patrick and his family on Monday night at…” Ah, crap. He hadn’t said where exactly. “I’ll get back to you on the where. It’s apparently five minutes from here. The other thing is that I would like to visit Churchill’s house and garden. That would be during the day. Maybe tomorrow or Thursday?”
“Monday night should be fine; just get me the location by Sunday so I can plan. Yes to Churchill’s. However, I can’t confirm the date. I was going to ask you something after dinner, but since we’re almost finished… We need your unique skill to find out where Mrs Valentine went. I’m sending you and Millicent out on the road tomorrow morning. She’s picking you up at seven. I’d like you to start outside Mrs Valentine’s brother’s place, but you’re not to put yourself or Millicent in any danger. I’ll have two other agents following, so don’t be too obvious about taking photos. Stay in the car when you take them, if it’s at all possible.”
“I can do that. I’d take them with my phone to be even more discreet, but the zoom and photo quality isn’t good enough. Could I hide what I’m doing by casting a spell to make the windows look dark from the outside without making it darker from inside looking out?”
“Yes, you could. But maybe ask Millicent to do it. It will be easier for her. And don’t tell anyone else. We won’t have a formal PIB meeting once you have the results. We’ll have a get-together at James’s, but Millicent will let you know. It all depends on what you find tomorrow, and if your search leads you to Brighton, you’ll have a long day ahead. I’ve left other instructions with Millicent, and she’s in charge, Lily, so you do whatever she says. Understood?”
I nodded and resisted the urge to wriggle. The thrum of excitement built inside at the thought of finally finding out where Mrs Valentine had gone. “Yes, Ma’am.”
She raised a brow. “No deviations. I mean it. You don’t want to endanger her or the baby, do you?”
“Of course not!” I knew I deserved her scepticism after the whole Paris car crash incident, but I’d promised I’d learned my lesson. Okay, so going “undercover” was a bit risky, but not much, and I was keeping her up to date on where I was and when.
She gave me a stern glare; then her expression relaxed to her usual poker face. “So, why do you want to visit Churchill’s?”
Oh, she was good, attacking me with that when I wasn’t prepared. I practiced my poker face. I was an amateur, but everyone had to start somewhere, right? “I’ve been living here for ages, and it’s silly that I haven’t visited the most famous former inhabitant’s home. It was probably one of the first things I should have done.” I shrugged. I could have told her the truth—that it had to do with Mum’s diary, but bringing it up would only upset her, and my theory that I might find out something about their disappearance by going there was only that—a hunch.
“I’d love to go with you, Lily. If you’d like some company.” Olivia smiled. Either she was backing me up because she suspected there was a more important reason I didn’t want to share or she just had really good timing.
I grinned. “That would be great. I’ll let you know the date when I know.”
She laughed. We both looked at Angelica. “Yes, ladies. I’ll give you an appropriate date once we know where Mrs Valentine’s investigation is going. I have so much happening that I don’t want to rush things and end up putting anyone in danger. One thing at a time, please.” She was starting to sound like my brother.
I nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Everyone had finished eating, and Angelica magicked the food and mess away. I yawned, then bade Angelica and Olivia goodnight. Today had been exhausting, and I had an early start the next morning. The sooner I went to sleep, the sooner tomorrow would come, and we’d be that much closer to finding Mrs Valentine.
I made sure all my camera equipment was ready to go before I hopped into bed. I didn’t want anything slowing us down.
As I slid into bed, the cold breath of foreboding feathered the back of my neck. I shuddered. Why couldn’t I get a kiss goodnight instead, like a normal person?
Oh, that’s right: I was far from normal.