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Alex paced the room while Avery again examined the map that appeared on the book they’d stolen from the Witch Museum. She lit a witch light, closed the blinds to block out the sunshine from the bright afternoon, and stared at the fine white markings that must be tantalisingly close.
“Come on, Alex, we need to be logical about possible hiding places for Helena’s grimoire. We need an old building, something that’s likely to have passages underneath, someplace accessible to her.”
“Churches. There are four in White Haven. Old Haven Church where the Jackson’s mausoleum is. And where there’ll be a crypt. Then there’s the Parish Church of St Peter’s...”
“And the Church of All Souls in the centre of the pentagram,” Avery said, finishing his sentence. “All will have crypts, all are old. The fourth is that Methodist church, but that’s far too new.”
“True. Then there are a lot of old, 16th century houses, but how likely are they to have tunnels beneath them?’
“And to have been accessible?” Avery added.
Alex continued to list buildings. “The old pubs along the harbour front and the centre of town. They have a big smuggling history, lots of tunnels there, probably.”
“What if it’s under Helena’s family house, the point of Air on the pentagram?”
Alex rolled his eyes as the suggestions grew. “Where’s the house she shared with her husband? It might be under there. In fact, the map may not be showing passages at all. It could even be a floor plan of a house, with the grimoire hidden in the walls.”
“Or an attic.”
“Elspeth’s was hidden in the grounds of her house, Reuben’s in the mausoleum—again, their property.”
“But what about yours and Briar’s? Who knows where they were originally hidden.”
“There’s the aquarium, that’s an old building, recently converted, right by the sea wall.”
“Or, of course, the Witch Museum.”
“Or White Haven Museum?”
“I didn’t even think of that.” Avery said, annoyed with herself. It was another stone-built house that was on a street sitting along the harbour, with a commanding view over the sea. It had been gifted to the town by the family who owned it, and was now owned by the National Trust.
“But, what link would Helena have to it?” Alex pointed out.
“Excellent, very logical. Let’s rule that out.”
Alex was already looking for Helena’s second address. “Penny Lane, that was Helena’s house with her husband,” he said, looking up. “That must be the one leading off the high street.”
“It is. It’s a lovely old street actually,” Avery said, remembering its mellow stone and half-timbered buildings.
“Let’s try to imagine Helena’s thoughts. The five witches—or witch families—have just performed a big spell, one that mustn’t be undone, the Witchfinder’s coming, and you need to hide your book. Where would you go?”
“I would avoid my house, it would feel too obvious. I’d also probably avoid my mother’s house, too,” she said, thinking of the tiny cottage she’d stopped in front of the other day. She searched through the papers on the table and consulted her family tree to check dates. “Helena’s mother had already died by then anyway, that’s why I didn’t see her name in the trials—at least she was spared that horror.”
Alex frowned. “We’re missing something.”
Avery smacked her head with her palm. “We’re forgetting the Newtons! Is it worth finding where he lived?”
Alex shrugged, “We can, but why would she hide it with the Justice of the Peace?”
“I would have thought it’s the perfect place to hide it. Who would think to look there?”
“Fair enough, that does have a certain logic.” He consulted the letters that had been sent to Newton by Thaddeus Faversham, scanning them quickly. “Also Penny Lane! Next door to Helena’s!” He looked up at her, his pupils large in the muted light. “They were neighbours—he’d have known her well.”
“No wonder he felt so annoyed when he couldn’t save her. Do you think he knew she really was a witch? But knew she was trustworthy, too?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, unconvinced. “They may have had cellars that could be linked. He would never have known what she had concealed. It’s worth checking. Those buildings are shops now, right?”
Avery consulted Google Maps again and then laughed. “Of course they are! I’m so stupid.”
“What?”
“Both Helena’s house and Newton’s are now one building.” She looked at him expectantly, as if he should know.
“So? What building? A big shop?”
“It’s a restaurant, quite a flash one—Penny Lane Bistro.”
Alex grinned. “Public access! Great! What you up to this evening?”
“What I’m up to every evening—looking for this bloody grimoire.”
“May I take you out for dinner?”
Avery laughed. “Really? You don’t want to sneak in after they’re closed?”
“Of course I want to sneak in after they’re closed, but we can check it out officially first.”
“It’s expensive!”
“So?” He frowned, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the table. “You don’t want to be seen in public with me?”
Avery huffed at Alex’s annoyed expression. Was he serious? “I’m seen with you all the time! Are you crazy?”
“As friends. This is a date.”
“A date—like a proper, wine-and-dine date?”
“So you’ll sleep with me, but not go out to dinner with me?”
Now she knew he had to be winding her up. “I had a pint with you today! Besides, I wasn’t sure how serious the whole sleeping together thing was.”
His face darkened, and she realised she had made a serious error. “So you’re back to thinking I’m just a womaniser? And you’re what, the female equivalent? I’m just a quick roll between the sheets for you? You know what? Maybe I should go.”
He put the book down, and turned.
“No! Alex, please—I’m sorry!” Panic flooded her at the thought that she’d ruined a perfectly great, if uncertain relationship. “You know what, we’re both to blame—we sleep together, and then that’s it! I don’t know what to think this is!” She softened her voice. “You are not just a quick roll in between the sheets. You’re more than that. And, I know you’re not a womaniser. I’m sorry, sometimes I feel a little insecure. You’re very...” she hesitated.
He turned back to her and leaned back on the table again, his eyes narrowed. “Unreliable, arrogant, annoying?” He quoted all the things she’d said before.
“Hot. Very, very hot. And clever and quick-witted. And I wonder why you’re interested in me,” she said in a rush, fearing she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t say what she really thought right now. “This past few weeks has been great, but I didn’t want to presume too much.”
His shoulders dropped and she felt his anger ebb slightly. “Have you noticed how hot you are lately? And brave, and funny, and powerful?”
She flushed. “Alex, don’t tease. I’m not those things.”
He reached forward and brushed her hair from her face, his hands sending a tingle all down her spine. “I think you’re very beautiful, Avery, and I can’t stop thinking about you. And, as well as being gorgeous, you’re a kick-ass witch who I trust implicitly. And trust me when I say that I haven’t had as much fun with anyone for a long time as I had with you today. Now, would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?”
She held her hand over his, pressing it against her cheek. “Yes. I would love to.”
“Good. I’ll meet you here at seven-fifteen.” He kissed her softly and then left, a hum of residual energy left in the space.
Holy shit. What had just happened? Her heart was racing, and she paced the room nervously, the cats watching her through their narrowed eyes as they half-dozed on the sofa. Breathe, Avery, breathe. He hadn’t declared his love, he’d just told her she was beautiful, and gorgeous, and brave, and powerful. And he’d looked at her in a way he hadn’t before, even when they were having sex.
What the hell was she going to wear?
***
By the time Alex arrived at 7:15 Avery had wasted hours, unable to concentrate on any of Anne’s paperwork, or Helena’s map. She had eventually given up and showered, and then tried on and discarded half a dozen dresses and shoes before sternly reminding herself that she knew Alex, had slept with him, and didn’t need to panic. She finally settled on a black, knee-length dress and three-inch tan wedges, which showed off her legs. It seemed with this simple request for a date that everything had changed, had become more serious. Official. But of course, it hadn’t. She was imagining things.
When Alex turned up, she couldn’t help but gasp. “Wow, you look good.”
“So do you,” he said, kissing her cheek.
He wore black boots, dark jeans, a black V-neck shirt, and a dark suit jacket. His hair was tied in a man-bun. It was still Alex, not too groomed, but just groomed enough—he still had dark stubble and his usual grin on his face.
He took her hand. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she agreed, grabbing her leather bag.
Avery couldn’t help but smile as they strolled down the street, but for once they both seemed a little awkward. They ended up both speaking at the same time, and they laughed. “Ladies first,” Alex said.
“I’ve brought the plans with me, just in case.”
“You’re not planning on having a witch light floating over our table, are you?
“No! Are we planning on breaking in tonight?”
“I think we should, if it looks likely.” He squeezed her hand, “Maybe not in those shoes, though?”
“Oh ye of little faith,” she laughed, echoing his line from earlier that day.
Penny Lane, as Avery had remembered, was a narrow, cobbled street lined with 16th century buildings, made of stone and timber. The stone was a warm amber colour, quarried locally, while the wood not only framed the windows but covered some of the upper walls, and were painted in soft whites and muted yellows and pinks.
Most of the buildings were now shops, the lower floors for retail, the upper floors either storerooms or flats. Some buildings were Bed and Breakfasts, and were very popular with tourists. Hanging baskets filled with a profusion of summer bedding plants were hung all down the street, as they were all over the town.
The bistro’s entrance was a discreet wooden door, set back under a deep porch. Mullioned windows on either side of the door, with candles glittering on the sills, provided a glimpse into the interior. Once inside, a small counter had been set up by the entrance to receive guests. The inner walls had been knocked out, and it was now a large, open space, broken up only by columns and archways. The ceiling was still timbered, and the whole place was an artful blend of old and new.
Across the room was a long wall of paned glass revealing a courtyard garden, and she heard the clink of glasses and murmured conversation drifting across the room.
Avery breathed deeply with pleasure as she gazed at the white linen tablecloths, soft lighting, glasses, and silverware.
Their table was in the corner, overlooking the courtyard, and as they sat, Avery noticed that many other tables were already filling up. “We were lucky to get a table here.”
“Perks of being in the trade—I sort of know the manager.”
“Do you think he’d let us in the cellars as a sort of favour?”
“I don’t know him that well,” he said, looking at the wine menu.
She sighed. “I’m trying to avoid breaking in again. It’s becoming a habit.”
“Fun, though,” he mused, glancing up at her with a smirk.
“I don’t think Newton would think so.”
“He’s got Briar to distract him. And besides, I don’t think it will be as bad as attacking Faversham Central.”
Avery looked at the menu, finding it difficult to concentrate. Their friends were split into two camps, possibly vulnerable to attack. Briar was on her own, magically speaking, and so was El. Avery wasn’t sure how effective Reuben would be right now. The more she thought about this morning, the more rash she felt they’d been. And here they were, having a meal in the gorgeous Penny Lane Bistro. She looked up at Alex, his head bent over the menu, and her heart tightened. What if he got hurt?
Alex looked up, startling her out of her thoughts. “Stop worrying and tell me what wine you’d like.”
“Sorry. We’re all split up tonight. I was just thinking how vulnerable we are.”
“All the more reason to find your grimoire, find out what the spell really is, and get more bargaining power.”
She nodded. “You’re right. A very large Tempranillo, please.”
“And this is a date, remember. People will think I’m a crap date if you don’t cheer up.”
She laughed, “Sorry, this is great, thank you. I haven’t been anywhere like this for a long time.”
“Me neither.” He looked around. “Have you noticed? No cameras in here.”
“I should think not. They’re hardly conducive to romance and fine dining. I bet there’s some out back, though,” she said, nodding towards the courtyard.
They were interrupted by the waiter, and once they’d ordered, Avery said, “It’s weird, isn’t it? This is where Helena once lived. She walked through these rooms, slept here, ate here. Her children were born here. And she’d have been arrested here.” She felt a rush of emotion and stopped for a moment, trying to calm her thoughts.
“And now we’ll get revenge for her,” Alex said. “Somewhere in these walls could be her legacy to you.”
She nodded. “There are a couple of doors to restricted staff areas—do you think there’s still access to cellars?”
“This is a restaurant now. I bet they use it for storing wine. In fact,” Alex said, staring outside, “I can see a large hatch set into the floor. Must be an outside entrance.”
Avery followed his gaze and saw a dark rectangle in the courtyard, butting up against the wall of the building. “I see it. Perfect!”
“How agile are you in those shoes?”
“Extremely. Why?”
“Wandering around White Haven in combat gear at night, in the centre of town, will be very suspicious. When we’ve finished here, we’ll head to the pub and then come back after closing. Sound good?”
“Great.”
“Excellent, and now we can enjoy our date,” he said, teasing her, and making her feel self-conscious all over again.
***
After the meal, Alex and Avery headed to a small pub called The Startled Hare a few doors down from the bistro, and stayed there until closing.
They tried not to talk about the missing grimoires, the Favershams, or magic, and instead talked about anything and everything else. Avery wasn’t sure if the meal was a good idea or not, as she now knew that she was pretty much head over heels with Alex. And they had so much fun together. She felt she was like a schoolgirl again, and every now and then she’d find him looking at her speculatively, which made her heart race even faster.
They were nearly the only people left on the street as the bar staff ushered them outside after last orders. They strolled past the bistro, and seeing it was now empty, other than a couple of waiters doing a final clear up, they walked up and away from the town, and then tried to find the alley that ran behind the bistro. The cool night breeze caressed her skin, and Avery pulled her lightweight cardigan close. Alex pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her as they tried to look as inconspicuous as possible.
Towards the end of Penny Lane they paused outside an alley that disappeared around the back of the buildings.
“This way,” Alex said, checking down the street and then pulling Avery after him.
They passed wheelie bins full of rubbish outside the side entrances of the shops on either side, and then turned left heading down towards the bistro. The fences were high at the back of the shops, and most places were quiet as it was long past their closing. They passed the pub and then paused as they saw a gate open and close further down. A waiter emerged from the shadows to put some rubbish into a bin, and then disappeared back behind the fence.
“That must be it,” Alex said, and they moved closer, peering through the wooden planks.
“How long until they go?” Avery asked.
“Can’t be long now.”
They wrapped themselves in a shadow spell, waited another fifteen minutes after the lights went out, and then they eased the gate open with another spell and edged into the courtyard.
Two cameras were high on the wall, one angled towards the glass doors leading into the restaurant, and the other towards the cellar door, and there was a security light. Avery immobilised them all with a whisper, and after checking that the restaurant was in complete darkness, they unlocked the cellar door in the floor and headed down the steps into darkness, pulling the door shut above them.
They stood listening for a few moments, but there was only silence.
Avery conjured a witch light, and its cool, white light showed a paved stone floor, and racks of wine and other stores stretching away into darkness. She pulled the book with the map from her bag and studied it.
The map was long and narrow, much like the cellar space. “This could be it,” she whispered, showing Alex.
“Well, there’s not much cellar to our left. We’re at the edge of the building, but it should go all the way down there,” he said, pointing under the main restaurant area.
The cellars, unlike the restaurant above, were still made up of small rooms, all interconnected by archways. The map showed similar-sized blocks, and a tiny pentagram was marked on an interior wall.
“Come on, let’s get our bearings,” Alex said, leading the way.
They snaked around the free standing shelving housing wine bottles and other supplies, heading into the centre of the cellar. A steep staircase rose to a door set into the wall, but they passed it for now, checking what else was down there. They came to a thick wall, which looked as if it marked where the two buildings would have been divided, and walking through the archway in it, passed another set of stairs which had been bricked up at the top.
The stores ended, and the rest of the rooms were empty, other than a few old boxes, chairs, and endless dust. Avery suppressed the urge to sneeze.
“Which house was which?” Alex asked.
“The one that’s now the main dining area was Helena’s, the kitchen area is Newton’s.”
“So we’re under Helena’s now. Where’s that pentagram marked?”
“It’s hard to say, I’m not sure which way up the map should be. It looks to be on an inner wall of the first or last room, depending on how it’s placed.”
“Let’s check here then first, just in case.”
They headed to the old stone wall and examined it carefully. The stone work was rough and almost a foot thick, but looked intact. Even with the witch light floating above them, nothing was marked or looked suspicious. Then they tried the surrounding walls for good measure, before heading back to the side of the building where they’d entered.
They headed to the far wall, and worked their way back.
“It should be here,” Avery said, confused. “If this is the right place. See, the second wall in has the pentagram mark, but there’s no wall.”
“But there is,” Alex said, pointing upwards. Above them was a couple of feet of wall spanning a third of the cellar and forming an archway, separating one section from another. “It’s just a very small wall.”
Avery pulled a torch from her bag and pointed it at the stones above them. “They’re so tightly fitted together, but I think I can see an edge sticking out.”
“We need a closer look.” He looked around searching for a ladder, but there was nothing in sight. “There’s no way I can reach that, it’s a least nine feet up.”
“But I can, if you boost me.” Avery decided there was no way she was leaving without checking this out.
Alex crouched down. “All right. Get on my shoulders. And keep your voice down, just in case.”
Avery juggled the torch as she got into position, and Alex rose to his feet slowly.
“Shit,” Avery said, as she wobbled and grabbed the wall to steady herself.
When she was in position, she shone her torch onto the spot. Close up there was definitely a seam. “Alex, I’m right,” she whispered.
“Well, get on with it,” he hissed back, and shone his torch up towards the wall.
For a few seconds Avery worked at the bricks, trying to pull them loose and failing miserably. When Alex shifted position, she wobbled and leaned heavily on one of the surrounding bricks, and with a distinct click, the entire section popped forward. Her heart was now pounding in her chest. She wiggled the bricks free until half a dozen in an uneven rectangle eased into her hands.
“Alex, hold this,” she said, passing them down.
For a few seconds they juggled torches and bricks, and then with both hands free, Avery turned her own torch into the hole. It was a small, dry space hollowed out of the wall, and something was in there. She pulled out a thick, heavy object the size of a large book wrapped in oilskin and put her torch in the gap left behind.
“I think we’ve found it,” she whispered. She carefully opened up the oilskin, and beneath it was a leather-bound book.
“Well?” Alex asked, adjusting his position and making Avery wobble again.
Triumph and relief filled her voice. “Yes! It’s Helena’s book. The sign for air is on the cover.”
“Excellent, let’s get those bricks back in place and get out of here.”
