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The rest of the group arrived within half an hour, having slipped into the now closed church and down into the crypt.
They were laden with their grimoires and the herbs required to break the binding.
As they stepped into the chamber, their eyes widened, and Alex whistled. “Wow. This is pretty impressive!” He saw Helena standing by the altar and gasped. “I can see Helena.”
Helena turned and appraised him, a slow smile spreading across her face, and then she looked at Reuben, El, and Briar standing next to him. Her gaze returned to Reuben, her eyes narrowing speculatively, and then they settled on Alex.
Helena desired Alex, Avery could tell; she looked again at Avery, and a knowing smile crossed her face.
Another chill ran through Avery. She had the feeling that once Helena was in her body, she wasn’t going to want to leave it. She subdued the thought. She needed to trust Helena. She was going to save them all.
“Can anyone else see her?” Alex asked.
“A ghost, only barely visible,” El said, echoing Newton earlier.
“Same for me,” Reuben and Briar agreed.
“I can see her far more clearly,” Alex said, looking at Helena warily. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen spirits, but she is far more...” he struggled for words.
“Solid?” Avery suggested.
He nodded, and they both watched Helena pacing up and down, impatient to begin.
“I don’t like this at all,” Briar said, pulling her herbs from her bag. “I don’t trust her.”
“We haven’t got much choice,” Avery said. She turned to Alex. “Any tips for expelling a spirit from my body?”
Alex grabbed her hands. “Stay strong. Remember who you are. Hold tight to cherished memories.” He pulled her close and kissed her, taking her breath away.
“Guys, get a room!” Reuben said, smirking.
“Sod off, Reuben,” Alex said, breaking away and pulling his own grimoire from his pack.
Avery tried to ignore the tingle on her lips. “According to this,” she said, reading the instructions in her own grimoire, “we all stand on our respective points of the pentagram. I need to place the glass jar next to the devil’s trap. Helena has already indicated to me that she’ll lead, so just do what she says. Have you all had a chance to study the spell?”
They nodded, and El clutched the red gemstone necklace that she had been gifted in her wooden box. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Where should I stand?” Newton asked.
“Just out of this room,” Alex suggested. “In the doorway. I suspect that when we start the spell, the demon in that devil’s trap will manifest, and it might even get out. Keep well out of the way.”
“In fact,” Briar said, “maybe you should wait in the church, just in case the vicar comes to call?”
Newton nodded in agreement. “I’ll wait in the small side chapel.”
“I’ve brought something for you, just in case,” Reuben said, reaching into his sports bag for a large object wrapped in a blanket. He unrolled it to reveal a shotgun and a box of shells.
“Where the hell did you get that?” Newton asked, alarmed.
“Don’t worry, we’re licensed. We keep it on the estate. The shells are filled with salt.”
Alex nodded and laughed. “So that’s what you went back for. Good idea.”
“Is it?” Newton asked, taking the gun from him and inspecting it.
“Yes. Salt repels spirits, just in case a certain someone needs a reminder of who’s in charge.” Reuben nodded towards Helena. “Can you use it?”
“I’ve had firearms training,” Newton nodded. “Right then. If you need me, shout.”
While they had been preparing, the power in the room seemed to shift and change, as if the energy was rising.
“I can feel the anticipation, can you?” El asked as she took her place on the pentagram.
“Like a charging battery,” Reuben agreed, squaring his shoulders. He looked more animated than he had in days.
Apart from Briar, they had all dressed in jeans and boots and jackets, ready for combat. El was wearing her black leather trousers and looked like the angel of death with bright white hair flowing down her back.
Briar, however, still wore her long, flowing clothes, and now she slipped her shoes off, standing barefoot on the cold stones. She saw them watching her. “It grounds me,” she explained.
“What do I do about Helena?” Avery asked Alex, once she had moved the glass jar to the right place.
“Stand ready on the Water element sign,” he said, bringing a small potion bottle out of his bag and then walking over to join her. “This potion will drug your senses, but only slightly,” he added, seeing Avery’s alarmed expression. “It will be like when we spirit-walked. There are a few words you need to say, an invocation, to invite her in. Are you sure you want to do this?” Helena was now standing next to Avery, an eager, hungry expression on her face.
Avery summoned her courage. “Yes. We have no choice.”
“We do have a choice. We could tackle the Favershams without extra power.”
“We’d fail and you know it,” she said, casting a wary glance at Helena.
Helena hadn’t tried to communicate since they had first arrived, and the sense of calm that she’d first given Avery had now completely gone. Instead, Avery felt Helena resented her, rather than supported her.
Alex took one final worried look at Helena, and then gave Avery a slip of paper he’d written the spell on. It was only a few lines, and she read through them quickly.
“All good,” she nodded encouragingly, and Alex returned to his place on Spirit, the point of the pentacle closest to the altar and directly to her left.
She took a long look around the room, taking in the hundreds of candles, the bright braziers, now giving off a smoky heat, and the long shadows from the stone pillars supporting the ceiling, and hoped this would not be the last room she ever knew. Finally, she looked at Helena.
They were strikingly similar, other than the colour of their hair and eyes. They were the same height with small, slim builds, and both had pale skin, but Helena’s eyes burned with a fierce desire that Avery wasn’t sure she was equal to. Nevertheless, she drank the potion Alex had prepared.
It scorched her throat, and she coughed as the liquid burnt its way down into her stomach. She tasted cinnamon and blackberries, then something peppery and sharp, and then something acrid.
No. That was Helena she could smell.
The scent of burning flesh was back, and smoke now seemed to swirl around Helena as she stood barely an arm’s length from Avery, fixing her with a piercing stare. Avery’s vision started to swim, and she looked down at the note, quickly saying the words of the spell while she still could.
As soon as they were uttered, she felt her consciousness recede, slipping back into some distant part of her being.
Avery felt Helena ease into her, turning and twisting her way into her body. It was like a cool breeze was running through her veins and tickling her skin. For a few seconds it was pleasant, and then her mind was filled with hundreds of images, some too swift to focus on, others searing in their intensity—particularly one.
The sharp, bitter fear of being dragged to the stake, stumbling on unwilling legs. Anger and the desire for vengeance was so strong that she felt she could almost break free. But the men holding her were too big, their grip like iron around her arms. In a second she was tied to the stake, a huge pyre prepared below her. The firebrands touched the wood and flared beneath her.
Avery tried to scream, but couldn’t, her mouth clamped shut by Helena. And then the image was gone, replaced by the memories of her nights with Alex. She could feel Helena examining them minutely, and if Avery could have blushed, she would, but then that disappeared, too.
Avery now started to panic. She felt suffocated; crushed beneath Helena’s mind and her considerable will.
If Helena was aware of Avery’s panic, she didn’t show it, instead focussing on the room and the need to perform the spell.
Avery saw the room through her eyes, the other witches standing ready, looking nervous but determined. She felt Helena’s excitement, but also her annoyance and disappointment. She looked down on them and their lack of knowledge, she could feel it simmering in her. Except for Alex. She wanted him.
As if Helena suddenly became aware of Avery’s presence, she mentally shoved her, and it took all of Avery’s concentration to hold on. It was as if she was trying to displace her from her own body.
Alex spoke. Avery could see his lips move, but she couldn’t hear him. It seemed as if she was under water.
“I am ready. Are you?” Helena asked. Her words came out of Avery’s mouth, making Avery’s skin crawl. And it seemed to repel the others, too. They all took one long look at her, glanced at each other, and then nodded.
Helena began.
She spoke the words of the spell cleanly and with authority, her voice growing stronger as she progressed. She never faltered once, and she nodded at each of the others in turn when it was their time to join in.
Power was building in the room, and as the spell was uttered and repeated, each part layered on top of each other, line by line, full of intention and conviction, the devil’s trap began to glow with a strange, blue light.
The shape of a demon rose up from the floor, streaming like smoke through a vent, and at the same time, an awful, gut-wrenching growl rumbled around the room.
Helena’s excitement began to rise and she pointed her finger—Avery’s finger—at the glass jar, which sat a short distance from the devil’s trap, and uttered a final command.
The swirling liquid became agitated, speeding up like a whirlpool, until the jar rocked violently and fell over, smashing instantly, the liquid spreading over the stone. A shriek pierced the room, bloodcurdling in its intensity.
And then it seemed as if all hell broke loose.
A wave of sheer power exploded from the centre of the room, throwing all of them off their feet and out of the pentagram.
Avery sailed through the air, and then felt the bone-shaking smack of cold stone at her back, and also Helena’s shock. She struggled to breath, wincing at the ache through her entire body, but Helena bounced back to her feet, threw back her head, and called the power to her.
Avery sensed rather than saw it, feeling a rush of power flood through her with such force that her spirit left her body with a jolt, thrown up to the roof above them.
She had a moment of shock as she saw her body below her, now possessed by Helena. The silver cord attaching her to her body curled below her, swaying in the power that had rocketed around the room.
Avery realised she had a birds-eye view of the action below. She could see the aura of magical energy spiralling around the room like a tornado, all different shades of reds, blues, purples, oranges and greens. The different colours were honing in on the different witches, flowing into them. All five witches now stood tall, with their heads thrown back and mouths wide open as the magic poured into them.
In the centre of the pentagram, the demon and Octavia continued to form into their full shapes, as the powerful bonds that had contained them disappeared.
But there was too much energy to be contained in the small room. Avery saw it flood out the door and up through the ceiling, and she followed it, passing through the church and out into the night air.
In the skies above White Haven, a dark purple mass rippled out across the town like a tidal wave, and the giant pentagram that connected the town to this point sparked like fuse wire.
For a few moments, Avery watched, mesmerised, as the magical energy poured into the night, hanging on the air and casting a veil over the town.
Below, people on the street looked around in shock, as if they had heard or seen something, but then with a shrug, they carried on, and Avery realised they subconsciously may have registered something happening, but they had no idea what.
Avery hovered above the church, her cord streaming below her. They had released something fundamental tonight, she could feel it in her spirit body, and with a sense of excitement, but no little worry, she wondered what the consequences would be.
And then Avery experienced a short, sharp tug on her cord and with a feeling of dislocation, she instantly knew Helena was trying to sever her cord.
