Chapter 13
CHAPTER
Thirteen
When Thea returned to the Magic Quarter, she went directly to the Lantern.
Dusk stained the sky like blackberry cordial and a weather-witch stood in the centre of the street, holding her hands out to conjure a single flame of witch light that flitted from street lamp to street lamp, lighting each one.
After exchanging brief pleasantries with the witch, Thea let herself into the Lantern.
There, she was not the only one feeling out of sorts.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked Zofka, who was sitting in the comfiest chair, looking more frazzled than usual.
‘I’ve caught something.’ Zofka’s sigh was heavy enough to loosen some of the flour in her chestnut ringlets. It dusted the table between them like a fine layer of snow.
Thea turned back towards the door. ‘I’ll go and fetch my lemon and fire-ginger tonic.’
‘No, no, no.’ Zofka waved her back over. ‘I’ve caught a spirit.’
Talibah ventured over with a tray, upon which sat her polished silver teapot.
Gifted with second sight since birth, Talibah could see traces of magic woven through the world.
This gift, combined with her penchant for travelling, meant she had a habit of stumbling across enchanted objects.
From a candle whose light would never die, to shoes that changed size depending on the wearer.
But the women’s favourite was this teapot that Zofka had poured her signature hot chocolate into one day, only to discover that the teapot returned many, many cups.
More than Zofka had made by far. It was still going to this day, some four years later, and she had never needed to refill it yet.
Nor was it anything other than the perfect sipping temperature.
Talibah held it aloft now, pausing to consider Zofka. ‘Like a ghost?’
‘Not like a ghost. An actual once-living, no-longer-breathing ghost. A spirit, a phantom, and now the bane of my bakery.’ Zofka flopped her head back, gesturing at the teapot Talibah held. ‘Forget the cup, I’m going to need the biggest hot chocolate you can pour.’
Talibah obliged.
Thea flumped down in a neighbouring chair. It had been a long afternoon and her headache was creeping back with a vengeance.
‘His name is Radim,’ Zofka continued, shooting Talibah a grateful look as she handed her a small bowl of hot chocolate.
‘And he’s rather lovely, only he has such suggestions and won’t stop meddling with my recipes.
’ Zofka pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘We haven’t had any hauntings in the Quarter for decades – spirits prefer human homes. ’
‘Really?’ Thea accepted her own cup from Talibah with a smile of thanks. ‘Even ghosts of magical folk?’
‘The wards mostly keep them all out,’ Talibah informed her, coming to sit down. ‘Something about the clashing energy between the two. Now and then a persistent one slips through, though.’
Zofka groaned.
Thea exchanged a baffled look with Talibah. ‘Perhaps a banishment—’ Thea began.
‘Oh, I couldn’t! He’s admitted that baking was his lifelong dream.
I can’t take that away from him now, he’s already lost his life, the poor thing.
It isn’t his fault that he died in such a ghastly manner, all that blood, you know.
’ Zofka pulled a face, picking up her hot chocolate and taking a deep, gratifying gulp, seemingly immune to Thea and Talibah gaping at her.
‘Such a shame. I really think that the customers would enjoy chatting to him if they gave him half a chance.’
‘I . . . I don’t know what to suggest,’ Talibah said.
‘Me either,’ Thea admitted.
‘Well, enough about me, how’s your headache?’ Zofka turned to Thea.
Thea grimaced. ‘It ebbs and flows, but it hasn’t gone yet.’ She hadn’t told them that she was suspicious that it was linked to refusing prices for her fate-weaving; if Jasper found out, she would incur his wrath upon herself and herself alone. What they didn’t know, they couldn’t be blamed for.
‘Still?’ Talibah frowned behind her cup.
Zofka raised her eyebrows. A fleck of cream graced her pert nose.
‘Even after those biscuits I baked for you?’ She tsked.
‘You should mention it at the meeting, see if anyone has had anything similar. Ah, I see Rose already.’ Looking through the window, she jumped up, knocking her bowl over.
Chocolate spilled everywhere. Talibah and Thea leapt for cloths but Zofka flicked her fingers and it vanished.
She pushed her bowl, now empty, towards Talibah, who refilled it automatically.
‘Keep it coming; I’m going to need buckets of chocolate to get through this meeting. ’
Thea, Talibah and Zofka, teapot of hot chocolate in hand, walked down the street to the Gingerbread House, where the residents of the Magic Quarter were amassing quicker than last time, as if they sensed the growing threat.
Zofka placated them with endless cups of hot chocolate and Rose glowered any time someone pointed out how much nicer the café was as a meeting venue over the the Rose Basket.
Poor sunflower-allergic Sarah, who could shift into a beautiful black cat with silky fur, bore the brunt of most of those glares.
‘—and the hot chocolate,’ Zdenka gushed.
‘That’s it.’ Rose stood. ‘Thea has been waiting to speak for yonks, I suggest you listen to her.’ She beckoned Thea up.
Thea told the congregated magical folk everything she’d recently remembered about her eavesdropping in the forest, near the Crossroads.
How she suspected the unknown bragging fate-weaver was to blame for their failing wards, and that they’d been riling up the Hunters and informing them that the Magic Quarter existed, though for what purpose she couldn’t guess – and worse, how she’d immediately forgotten everything she’d overheard and didn’t know why.
‘By chance, did you encounter any bludi?ka on your travels?’ Paní Dagmar enquired, scooping the cream off her hot chocolate with a spoon and slurping it up like one of Rose’s spring-cleaning tulips.
‘Yes, the fate-weavers sent them after me,’ Thea exclaimed. ‘How could you have possibly known that?’
‘Ah, they’re tricksy little sprites. Some call them memory thieves.’ She waved her cream-flecked spoon at Thea. ‘That’ll be why you forgot what you overheard. Not to worry though, their effects are temporary, they wear off with time.’
‘So, they’re different to my missing memories then?’ Thea said dryly.
‘Very,’ Paní Dagmar enthused.
‘Any time you’d like me to consult my crystal ball on your behalf—’ Zdenka began, but Talibah shook her head at them. She and Zofka were well used to evading the well-meaning but usually unwanted offers from the rest of the Magic Quarter when it came to Thea’s missing memories.
The alpha of the vulpine shape-shifters stood. ‘While the wards are down, we’ll be starting dawn and dusk patrols to ensure the safety of the Magic Quarter, particularly since one of our own has been threatened now, too.’ He nodded to Thea before sitting back down amidst his skulk.
‘Oh, thank you,’ Thea said, touched. ‘I haven’t found anything that might help repair the wards in my Compendium,’ she admitted, ‘Has anyone else had any luck?’
Talibah frowned. ‘Not yet, though I’m sure it’s just a matter of sifting through the material. If I were to have a few volunteers—’
‘I’ll help,’ Gretel offered.
Zdenka, dressed in viridian green, raised a hand. ‘Count me in, too.’
‘Thank you,’ Talibah told them.
‘Have any of you witches had any luck in assessing the wards?’ Thea asked, though she wasn’t quite certain what that might entail.
Whoever the group of witches or fate-weavers had been that had conjured it into place, their magic was immense, fabricated into such an intricate lacework of stitches and knots and graceful tangles that Thea couldn’t understand it one bit.
A couple of weather-witches detailed their experiments with bolstering the wards, but it seemed they’d only caused adverse weather patterns.
Zofka shrugged as she topped up Rose’s hot chocolate. ‘What am I going to do, throw a biscuit at it?’
‘Well, Jasper’s looking into it,’ Thea said without thinking.
Zofka’s hot chocolate ran over the lip of Rose’s cup and over the table as everyone began speaking at once. Swirling her fingers, Zofka caught the escaping hot chocolate and reversed the spill’s direction, pouring it back into the teapot.
A pixie hid behind one of the cups on their table, the shape-shifters growled in response, and Rose pursed her mouth. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she said pointedly.
‘For once, I agree with her,’ Zdenka added.
Thea suffered an unexpected pang of sadness on Jasper’s behalf.
She couldn’t stop dwelling on how she’d found him kneeling in the forest with a handful of crushed wildflowers, surrendering to grief.
How he’d quietly stated nobody would attend the meeting if he had come.
She swallowed hard. ‘He’s more powerful than I am, perhaps he could—’
‘If your information is correct, it was a fate-weaver who got us into this mess to begin with,’ Rose said hotly, Zdenka nodding along. ‘They can’t be trusted. Have you considered that Lord Stiltskin may be behind all of this?’
Thea’s heart-spell gave a fierce flicker. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘His apothecary is in the Magic Quarter and that’s been affected by the failing wards too, with the crack running through our ceiling. No, he’d lose a considerable investment . . . It just doesn’t make sense.’
‘Fate-weavers can’t be trusted,’ a weather-witch said. ‘They walk around like gods with all that power at their fingertips, it isn’t right. They’re dangerous.’
Thea’s cheeks were beginning to warm. She knew the other Quarter folk didn’t take issue with her using Jasper’s power – or if they did, they’d never voiced it, since she herself was only human, a mere conduit – but it rankled all the same.
Jasper’s power was her power and yes, it could be terrifying what he was capable of but she’d also seen how much that power had helped countless people.
‘But his involvement doesn’t make sense – if he meant the Quarter any harm, he never could have opened an apothecary here.
This is a pointless vendetta and we don’t want to waste time investigating dead ends. ’
‘Thea’s right,’ Paní Dagmar piped up. ‘Jasper’s a sweetheart, he wouldn’t have done this.’
Thea stared at the ancient witch.
‘A sweetheart?’ Zofka asked, holding the teapot in mid-air.
‘Of course,’ Paní Dagmar chuckled. ‘He’s an old friend of mine. I’ve lived in this Quarter for over five hundred years, you know.’
Rose kneaded her forehead. ‘Paní Dagmar, it’s near impossible for witches to live that long—’
Paní Dagmar raised her cup of hot chocolate as if it was champagne. ‘That’s why it’s a good idea to befriend a fate-weaver, dear.’
Thea’s lips twitched despite herself.
‘Right.’ Rose closed her eyes for a beat. ‘Well,’ she said on opening them again, having composed herself. ‘Now that we have volunteers to go through all our material, we can find the answers faster . . .’
‘What about Pan Novak?’ Zdenka interrupted. ‘What should we do about him?’
Rose sighed. ‘He’s human. We repair the wards and he and his Hunters can no longer even enter. Neither can these fate-weavers. But if we fight back now, we run the risk of bringing a greater threat down on our shoulders.’
‘I agree,’ Talibah added. ‘More research and twice-daily patrols seem our best options.’
‘I could always . . . intercede.’ Wojslav’s hint of a smile bared his elongated canines.
‘I’d let you feast away on him if I didn’t think there’d be a line of other Hunters in the wings, waiting to step into his shoes,’ Rose told him.
The meeting took a while to disperse as it was drizzling outside, and the magical folk were reluctant to leave the biscuit-scented warmth and endless hot chocolates of the café.
Eventually Zofka retired the magical teapot and they left.
Thea, Talibah and Zofka stretched out, as Zofka wondered aloud if she should bake singing gingerbread people or if that was a bad idea, if her spirit would ever haunt another café, and whether or not Talibah ought to get a cat.
Sarah, the feline shape-shifter with a serious sunflower allergy, rehomed all kinds of lost animals at her sanctuary, World of Whiskers, and had recently had an influx of kittens with white socks.
But eventually, Thea’s head ground back to the same worry she’d entered the meeting with. ‘The fate-weaver mentioned another prolific Hunter, but we’ve only seen Pan Novak,’ she thought out loud. ‘Should we be investigating who the other one is? They claimed it was a city councillor.’
Talibah turned to her. ‘You need to be careful. Those notes, that raven—’
‘Biscuit,’ Thea said automatically.
‘Biscuit,’ Talibah continued. ‘Someone wants you to be afraid.’
Zofka set her hands on her hips. ‘Then we won’t rest until we get to the bottom of this.’