Sixteen

 

The middle-aged woman that opened the door wore a paisley dress and tied her bright red hair up in a messy bun. Smudges of soil marred her pale cheeks and coloured her fingertips. She greeted us with a sad smile and spoke in a thick accent.

“Come inside; you’ll be here about Daniel.”

We followed her through a narrow hallway where the ceiling was covered in herbs in various stages of drying. The smell was bizarrely light and fresh, given everything. She must have used some magic somewhere to stop the scents from being overwhelming. We were led into a small square living room at the back of the house that overlooked a vibrant garden that filled the walled space to the brim.

“Daniel was a good boy. He was always respectful and worked hard in his studies. He didn’t have much prospects, but he didn’t let that get him down. We were in negotiations with a talented hedgewitch to marry him to her daughter. It might not have been a glamorous life, but she’d have treated him when he was of age,” she said as she sat down in an armchair that was soft enough it tried to swallow her whole.

I chose to stay standing, not wanting to risk the patchwork coloured sofa with a green throw along the back of it. It had the look of a sofa that was very soft and would be difficult to rise from. Alasdair’s words were still ringing in my ears. I didn’t want to get trapped.

“And he went missing almost two days ago?” Grayson asked gently.

“We think so. He spent the night on a gathering assignment, so we didn’t expect to see him ’til afternoon, but he never showed. It wasn’t until seven that night that Moira checked his room and found him gone. His wardrobe was full and his laptop was still here. Who would take him?” she said as she fought to keep her voice steady.

A younger red-headed woman came into the room in a flowery shirt and pair of jeans.

“This is Moira, she’s the coven second. We don’t use those silly terms like coven mistress, and I am no crone. I don’t care what the other covens say, taking her name as a title is disrespectful to our mistress,” the older woman said.

“You’re here to bring Daniel back to us?” Moira asked.

She stood with her hand on the older woman’s shoulder, her grey eyes cool and unwelcoming.

“Do you know if he used any social media to talk to other witches? Did he have any friends we could speak to, or…?” Alasdair asked.

“He was seeing Mary. She was a good girl, but she had too much magic. She’ll be ascending in two nights, so they had to break up,” Moira said.

“And how did they take that?” I asked.

It couldn’t have been easy to be in a relationship you knew had a hard end date. It would have been even more difficult given the situation that was causing them to end, and having the marriage arranged for Daniel could have been the final straw.

“Mary wasn’t very happy, but she was talented. She’d have been given a good strong witch to marry in a couple of years. Daniel took it well; he knew his place,” Moira said.

I took a slow calming breath. Daniel’s “place” was as a good boy who kept his head down and did as he was told without argument or complaint. A glance at Alasdair and a reminder of my place at his side helped dissipate the rest of the anger.

“And the social media, did he use any?” Grayson pushed.

The older woman frowned. A cluster of wrinkles formed across her forehead and aged her some fifteen years.

“He used that… what was it called, Moira? The one where he talked to other people?”

“Buzzed? No… Zap? Zapped?”

Grayson smiled. “Zapped is an app. Thank you. Can we look in Daniel’s room?”

“No. We told your priestess everything we know. You can have ten minutes with Mary, with my supervision,” Moira said firmly.

Alasdair’s mouth quirked at the corner, where the flicker of a satisfied smirk began to form. Of course they were hiding something, and I likely didn’t want to know what. Grayson’s mother’s plan to bind all witches was growing more appealing by the minute.

“Mary is three houses down. I’ll take you there now. She has studies to attend to,” Moira said as she left the older woman’s side.

“Thank you for your time,” Alasdair said with a nod to the older woman.

Moira practically marched us out of the house and down the road to a pale-yellow house. She didn’t bother to knock or otherwise warn the inhabitants she was entering.

Grayson and I shared a look that said, ‘wow, seriously?’

The scent of vanilla and sandalwood hit me like a brick wall the moment I stepped into the pale pink hallway. I cough and frowned at the empty air. How many candles and burners did these witches need? Grayson gave me a sympathetic look as we followed Moira into a very floral living room where five girls sat on the sofas in their pajamas. I felt like I was invading their private space and hung back at the edge of the room with Alasdair and Grayson. Alasdair kept his eyes down and moved his hands behind his back.

“Mary, these wolves are here to talk to you about Daniel,” Moira said sharply.

The girls all shared a look before four of them got up, leaving their notebooks and pens scattered in their wake, and left out of the other door. I pricked my ears and heard them whispering in what I thought was the kitchen. This would likely be the highlight of their month.