22. Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
M adigan’s tea was lukewarm, the remaining half covered in a scummy film. I tipped it down the sink. Though unlikely someone would drink it, it would be safer disposed of. I cleaned down the kitchen, chucking the tea bags that had accumulated on a dish into the bin, hiding the now empty, tiny, blue bottle with the red gem lid that I’d thrown away fifteen minutes ago without Madigan noticing.
He didn’t snore, but from his slow, steady breathing, I knew he was sound asleep. Hopefully, he’d get enough rest before his fight with Ivan. He needed it, and there was little chance he’d have managed without my intervention.
I watched him sleep, taking in every detail of his relaxed, peaceful face, aware that this was likely the last chance I’d have to do so.
Brushing a strand of hair from his face, I said, “I hope this isn’t goodbye, but I think it probably is. Thank you for everything.” I planted one last kiss on his forehead before tearing my stinging eyes away.
I crept to the opposite end of the caravan, where I peeled back the duct tape that encircled the blind on my window. Last time I’d escaped the tape had been brittle with age, whereas this was freshly placed. Fortunately, the sleeping draught kept Madigan snoozing, even through the ripping noises as I tugged at the tape. I peered through the small gap I’d made. Only a small beam of light streamed inside, but Madigan stirred with a sudden intake of breath. I wrenched my curtain closed around my bed, praying I’d been quick enough. After a few seconds of silence, the soft sounds of Madigan’s breathing emanated from him once more as he settled.
I peeked through the gap again. One of the twins had her back to me. It was 9.50 in the morning. Hopefully the witches were changing shifts every hour, though it wasn’t guaranteed that Latisha’s shift was next. To my dismay, it was Alex who relieved the blonde from her duty, leaving me to wait until the next changeover. It was a struggle to keep myself from clock watching, with my heart hammering inside my chest and stomach writhing.
11 a.m. came and went, and Alex remained at her post.
Shit. I guess they aren’t changing hourly.
At midday, my heart leapt into my throat as Latisha approached the caravan. This was my first time seeing her during the day, a golden shimmer of sunlight shrouding her curls like a halo. Once Alex had retired to her caravan, I peeled back the remaining tape and, careful not to let the hinges squeak, opened the window.
“Latisha!” I tried to call in a whispered shout, but either she ignored me or had not heard. “Latisha!” She turned her head, jumping when she saw me leaning out the window.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“I need to speak to you.” I gestured for her to come closer.
Wrinkling her brow, she scanned the showmen’s yard before approaching.
“You need to be careful about letting light in there.”
I dismissed her warning with a wave of my hand, getting straight to the point. “I need your help. I have an idea that might save Madigan.”
“Just Madigan?”
I shrugged noncommittally; I might survive, but it wasn’t exactly my idea of saving myself.
Latisha’s eyes narrowed, tilting her head to one side, unable to hide her intrigue. “Go on.”
“Am I right in thinking that Madigan has to kill Ivan himself? No one else can do it?”
“If you are thinking about killing Ivan now, before the fight, forget it. His minions guard him at all hours.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, during the fight, no one else can get involved?”
“Correct, and no one will want to. We’re no match for Ivan, assuming we could reach him without Dominic or the other vampires killing us first.” She looked at the ground, shaking her head. “Besides, if one person gets involved, then others will, too, and we wouldn’t know whose side they’d choose. It would be a bloodbath.”
“That’s what I thought.” I nodded slowly, rubbing my chin, my mind racing as thoughts tumbled over each other. “We need to handicap Ivan without anyone noticing.”
“Yeah? How?”
“We’d need a shifter’s help. Someone who could become something tiny, crawl onto Ivan, and give him a bite; something painful enough to distract him and give Madigan the upper hand.”
Latisha studied my face, frowning, perhaps trying to work out if I’d lost my mind. I stared into her eyes, silently pleading, though the doubt on her face didn’t fill me with optimism. She scrunched the curls at the back of her head, running her tongue over her upper lip.
“Get back inside and I’ll try to convince Billy. He’s the only one who might give this some consideration. But I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me just yet,” she said, turning to leave. “I don’t think he’ll help, but I’m willing to do this to give you and Len a fighting chance.”
I closed the window and patted down a corner of duct tape, keeping the light out for now, but could open it again with minimal noise. Though I tried to keep myself distracted while waiting for the knock at the window, time dragged, the clock hands ticking in time with the blood rushing in my ears.
An hour passed and still nothing. I glanced through the window. Latisha stood with her back to me, completely alone.
Another half an hour passed and my palms started sweating. How long would the sleeping potion last? Would Madigan wake soon? Had Billy refused to come? Had Latisha contacted him at all? Had she even tried?
After another fifteen minutes, my stomach felt as though it was trying to push itself up my throat. Latisha’s shift would be over soon. What would I do then?
My heart leapt as a soft tapping noise of long fingernails on plastic interrupted my thoughts. I opened the window to find Latisha and Billy wearing grim expressions.
“Thank you for coming,” I said to Billy, opening the window.
“I’m only here to say sorry,” he said, not meeting my eye. “Tish has filled me in, but I’m sorry, Ava. I like you and Len, but I can’t risk my life and the lives of the shifters to help you. I’m the only venomous shifter in the coven, but my venom isn’t strong enough to—”
“Stop.” I held up a hand, aware of the ticking clock. “That’s not what I need. I want you to steal something from Trevor’s menagerie that would be suitable. Another spider, perhaps. Can you do it?”
“Ayyye,” he said in a slow, drawn-out voice, eyes narrowed in confusion. “But how would that help?”
“Here’s my idea: I’ll escape the caravan and you’ll get the creature. We’ll all meet up somewhere and carry out the ritual for me to become a shifter.”
“What?!” they said in unison, but before they could stop my train of thought, I continued.
“I’ll attach myself to one of you and wait until nightfall. When Ivan comes to collect me and Madigan, it will appear like I’ve run away again. I’ll wait until you get close enough to Ivan for me to crawl onto him, and when the fight begins, I’ll give him a quick nip.”
“Aye, right,” Billy said, rolling his eyes. “And how would we explain your escape while under constant watch?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came. Shit. I hadn’t thought of that.
“The next person on watch is Cassandra, a familiar,” Latisha said, running a thumb over her lower lip, squinting. “I could temporarily knock her out, no problem. We could say that Ava gave her the slip after using one of Madigan’s potions—the Slumber Smoke. If we leave the bottle lying around, Ivan will draw his own conclusions.”
Billy nodded slowly, still unconvinced. “And how would you stop Dominic from finding you like last time?”
“Last time he could smell me. Would he be able to smell me if I was a creepy-crawlie?”
Latisha and Billy blinked at each other for the answer, Billy’s sceptical frown subsiding. “I don’t think so. Shifter’s blood is different to a human’s—even while in human form,” he said, rubbing his temple with a finger.
“If we’re doing this, we need to decide fast,” Latisha said. “Cassandra will be here soon to take over my shift. I’ll play my part if we’re committed. Ava, have you got the Slumber Smoke?”
“I’ll grab it,” I said, ducking back into the caravan to retrieve the bottle from my bag.
“I’ll wait until she’s been there a while, then knock her out.” Latisha took the bottle from me, giving it a little shake, listening to the liquid sloshing inside. “I’ll tap on the window once the coast is clear, then take you to the Sacred Ground. Billy, will you find the creature and meet us there?”
We both looked at Billy, awaiting his answer, putting him on the spot. He opened and closed his mouth as he internally argued with himself before answering. “Fine, I will do this for you.” He shook his head, ruffling his copper hair before murmuring to himself, “Eejit... you’re a bloody eejit...”
I reached out and clasped his hand. “Thank you so much. Both of you. I know you’re putting your lives on the line doing this.”
“You won’t thank me later,” Billy said, unable to hide his grumpiness. “You don’t know what you are getting yourself into.”
“I know the consequences of doing this,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I also know the consequences if I don’t do it. If I do nothing, Madigan will die.”
“True,” Billy said, cocking his head, but remaining surly. “Pity about the demons that will hound you for eternity, but you can cope with that, right?” And before he turned to leave, he momentarily shifted so that instead of his usual, kind eyes blinking at me, I was met with eight, jet-black, beady ones.
Waiting for Latisha’s knock at my window—it was only twenty minutes, but felt more like an hour. That time was spent internally arguing with myself.
Billy said, ‘Shifter’s blood is different to a human’s—even while in human form’. That means I could escape after the ritual and Dominic wouldn’t be able find me. But of course, that leaves Madigan to fight Ivan... alone...
That wasn’t an option, not after he’d tried to steal my blood to spare me from becoming a vampire. He was willing to face death as means of escape... and so was I.
I jumped when my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Latisha’s knuckles on the plastic windowpane. As I opened the window, Latisha jerked her head to signal the coast was clear.
I stuck my head out, looking around for any signs of movement. The only person besides Latisha was Cassandra, lying face down on the gravel floor, the blue bottle patterned with moons and stars beside her. I wanted to ask if she would be ok, but I dared not speak.
As I’d done before, I squeezed through the window. Latisha put a finger to her lips, before twitching her head again, toward the containers. We slipped through the showmen’s yard in silence; the only sounds were our feet crunching on the gravel and the song of birds—a sound that I’d almost forgotten—but they sounded like screaming sirens, warning of my escape.
Latisha led me to the farthest container, identical to the rest. Catching her eye, I squinted and shrugged with raised hands, as if to ask, ‘What are you doing?’
Latisha pointed to herself, then me, and finally at the container’s door, telling me we were going inside. I held my breath as she unfastened the bolts and prised the door open. The door screeched, making me wince. It was pitch-black, but I didn’t hesitate to dart inside, glad to be hidden from the outside world. She followed, closing the door behind her and plunging us into darkness.
I could hear her fumbling around. With a scraping sound, the smallest glimmer of light appeared, a lit match at the end of Latisha’s fingers, and she set about lighting candles that littered the container. As each of the candles flickered into life, they filled the container with a soft, orange glow that didn’t quite reach the shadowy corners.
“Why are we here?” I asked in a low voice, saying aloud the question I’d wanted to ask outside.
“This is the Sacred Ground. The spot were a coven’s witches can perform their rituals.”
“Doesn’t look so sacred to me.” Besides the candles and a huge wooden chest carved with intricate patterns, it appeared identical to the other containers that held the funfair’s equipment.
“Yes, well, Ivan doesn’t like rituals. It was hard enough getting this container. But I’ll take what I can.”
She waved out the flame on the match after lighting the last candle and bent down, unlocking the chest with a chunky, old-fashioned key. Inside was a vast array of materials. More candles, dried herbs, bottles containing different coloured liquids, and scrolls of parchment. I could have spent hours looking at the different objects, but the nerves that twisted my stomach dampened my curiosity; I was looking, but not really seeing. Latisha gathered the supplies she needed from the trunk before pulling more items from a bag that she’d brought with her. Whatever ritual we were about to carry out, it involved a lot of materials.
I wasn’t sure how long we were there for, but neither of us spoke as she began her preparations.
The screeching of the container door broke the silence. My heart leapt, and for a moment, I was sure it was Ivan, but sighed in relief as Billy entered holding an ice bucket, an ominous scuttling sound echoing from inside.
“Are you ready, Tish?” he asked, closing the container door and stepping into the glow of the candlelight.
“I have everything I need. I’ll finish setting up while you explain everything Ava needs to know.”
“Have a look, Ava.” He held up the bucket. I didn’t want to look inside, but taking a steadying breath, I peered over the rim. Inside was a tiny, yellow scorpion. My breath hitched in my throat.
I’d never seen a scorpion in the flesh. The sight of it made my skin crawl.
“Are you alright?” Billy asked, sensing my fear.
I nodded in response, though I was anything but alright. The scorpion was about two inches long, its pincers slender like a pair of scissors, not like the broad ones I’d seen on TV. Its tail was thick, curled to one side, the stinger just visible. I counted its eight legs that clicked against the metal as it scurried around. My plan to shift into something small and creepy wasn’t scary whilst conjuring my plan, but now, seeing the creature before me, the horror of what I’d signed up for hit me like a sledgehammer.
“This,” Billy said, holding the bucket out towards me, “is the most venomous creature Trevor has in his collection. It’s called a deathstalker.”
He waited for me to take the bucket from him, but my hands remained firmly at my sides.
“Obviously it’s not native to this country and would usually hibernate during the winter but given the short time it—or should I say, you— will be exposed to the cold, I think you’ll be alright. It will probably be uncomfortable, but we have known scorpions to survive being frozen.”
“Great,” I said, the single word sticking in my mouth like glue.
“Though deadly, someone like Ivan will survive being stung. But it’s extremely painful and will certainly give him a shock. Aim for the face if possible—somewhere sensitive—for maximum effect.” Billy tried handing me the bucket again, but I still couldn’t bring myself to take it. “If you’re too afraid to take the scorpion, how do you plan on becoming one?” he snapped impatiently. “This isn’t temporary. Once you have bonded with the scorpion, you and it are one. Forever.”
I held out trembling hands, and Billy thrust the bucket into them. I couldn’t take my eyes off the creature at the bottom, staring at my fate.
“Will it hurt?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Aye,” Billy said, folding his arms. “The more you transform back and forth, the more you get used to it. But the first few times are agonising.” He gripped my shoulders and gave me a little shake. I prised my eyes away from the scorpion, returning Billy’s gaze, his face full of a fierce determination. “But as painful as it is, once it is over, you’ll adjust quickly. And if you are still afraid, ask yourself this: is it worse than stoning? Or what if Ivan changes his mind and decides flaying is a good idea. I’ve seen him do it once before. You want to know the worst part? After the poor bastard had his skin sliced and ripped away, it took him days to die. It was the middle of winter, and Ivan locked him away in a container, with nothing but his own flayed skin for warmth.”
“Alright, I get the point!”
“Good.” Billy licked his lips, then tightened his grip on me. “This was your idea, remember? You got this.” He forced a smile.
“Are you two finished?” Latisha asked.
I turned to look at her. She was done setting up. I hadn’t even noticed that the container was brighter now, as eight black candles encircled a white ring that Latisha had painted on the floor. Within the ring were patterns that reminded me of crop circles.
“I’m ready when you are, Ava.” She gestured to me to step into the circle, seating herself on the floor in front of me beside a large, open book, so old that the pages had turned yellow.
“Take the scorpion with you,” Billy said. “Tip it out and throw the bucket to me. Latisha will begin the ritual, and neither you nor the scorpion will leave the circle until it’s complete. Just stay calm.”
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped into the circle. I glanced into the bucket one last time, squinting at the scorpion. For a second, I thought about dropping the bucket and running from the container. But then I thought of Madigan. Was I really that fond of him I was prepared to become a shifter? I pictured his face. The way his lip twitched when he was trying to suppress a smile, the perpetual furrow of his brow, the sadness behind his eyes. My decision was an easy one.
“Let’s do it.” I tipped the bucket upside down so the scorpion dropped to the floor, then threw the bucket to Billy. As soon as I had done so, Latisha spoke.
“Astra, lend me your light.” She held her hands peculiarly, the tips of her thumb and forefinger pressed together, the rest of her fingers interlocked. The paint on the floor changed from white to luminous-green, and the scorpion scuttling on the floor froze.
Latisha continued, chanting words I couldn’t understand, “Cono Simul, Tighin Comla, Enono, Yukta...”
Her hands were almost a blur, switching from one hand sign to the next before I could get a proper look at what they were. I shook as adrenaline pumped through me, gritting my teeth to stop them from chattering, clenching and unclenching my fists. At first I felt no different. But then, I was compelled to do the unthinkable: touch the scorpion.
I knelt down as the scorpion inched closer towards me, then glanced at Billy, who nodded in encouragement, a slight smile on his face. With one finger, I reached out, and the scorpion mirrored me, extending one of its tiny pincers. We connected.
One second of calm, before the chaos.
What started as a burning at the end of my fingertip became a tidal wave of pain that pulsed through my body, turning a gasp into a feral scream. The bones in my legs vibrated before cracking, distorting, tearing through my flesh as I crumpled beneath the weight of my upper body. I reached out to stop myself from hitting my head on the floor, but the movement only caused my arm bones to snap. I collapsed, shapeless, as my bones crushed into dust. The screams that had issued from my mouth silenced, but still rang in my ears—in my mind. I was suffocating beneath the weight of my... whatever had piled on top of my lungs. The bones shifted inside my flesh, organs slipped and slid inside me, gliding over each other, finding their new positions, or melted into nothing. I was no longer suffocating, and yet I wasn’t breathing.
Bones reformed, pushing up to the surface, pulling my skin taut until I was sure it would rip. My skin hardened, itching as what felt like fine hairs sprouted over me.
A crunching noise reverberated through me, as what I believed to be my hands split down the middle, a tear that reach my mid forearms, as they morphed into pincers. What had once been my spine stretched behind me. I couldn’t see what was happening; even if I’d had a neck to turn, I was totally blind as my eyes split in half, then halved again. Six more appendages burst from my sides.
A compressing sensation followed, my body becoming hotter and hotter until I was certain I was on fire.
My mind was blank, save for the silent screams that still echoed inside my head.
Then it stopped, as suddenly as it had started.
I laid still. Exhausted. Terrified. Vulnerable.
I opened my eyes, or at least, that’s what I thought I’d done. Nothing but darkness. The hairs that now covered my body prickled, sensing. Was I in a cave? The walls were soft and covered in tiny holes that looked strangely familiar—like something I’d seen before, but magnified beyond recognition.
I scuttled down a tunnel, towards warmth and light. My hairs prickled again, and slowly I sensed more. My vision was terrible, but I could build a picture in my mind of my surroundings. Latisha and Billy towered above me. To call them giants was doing them a disservice. If I hadn’t known who they were, I would have considered them monsters. That was when I realised, despite my scorpion body and senses, I still had my mind.
“Ava? Are you ok?” Latisha asked, her voice a vibration on the air that I could translate. I waved a hand—or rather, a pincer—to show that I’d understood. Moving my appendages felt wrong, like when I’d had too much to drink, unable to control my limbs.
Billy had been right about the cold. The temperature was unpleasant while human. Now, it was almost painful. And I longed for someone to huddle beside and sleep.
Billy knelt down. “If you want to return to your human form, wish it.”
Wish it? What does he mean? Of course I want to be human!
As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the world beneath me seemed to fall away, Billy and Latisha raced toward me. Bones reformed, organs shifted, muscles knitted together. My eyes merged and the container that once seemed so dark flooded with light. Someone was screaming. It was me! I had a mouth, with teeth, and a tongue, and a voice. I was kneeling on the floor, panting, drinking in air with aching lungs. I raised my head to find Latisha giving me stiff sideways glances, while Billy had turned away from me completely.
“What’s wrong?” I asked through ragged breaths. I looked down to see I was completely naked. “My clothes!”
“Over there,” Latisha said, pointing to the pile of clothes I’d lost during my transformation.
I scrabbled to pick them up and cover myself.
“Don’t be shy. That will happen every time you shift. You’ll get used to it. Some covens don’t bother with clothes at all.”
“I thought it would never end,” I said. I was shivering, but it had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with my transformation.
“From our perspective, it only took a second.”
“Forget all that,” Billy waved his hand impatiently. “We have more pressing matters at hand.” He stepped towards me, making forced eye contact before taking me by the shoulders again. “Ava, there are two important things you should know.”
I nodded, staring at his lips in concentration, but my transformation back and forth dominated my mind.
“First, shifting consumes energy. Do it too frequently and you will tire out and find you can’t shift again until you’ve rested.”
I nodded again to show I understood.
“And the second—” Billy began but was interrupted by a sound that made my heart stop.
The container door screeched open.