Buried Magic Page 5

  “I choose to hide these tools beneath his very eyes, and he will not see them. These items are covered with wards and seals. The others think I am mad, but I am confident of my own magic. He will not find these objects, although the book I will put elsewhere.

  “I am hopeful that he will leave town without finding anything, and then in a few months I can reclaim what is mine, and my family’s heritage. But if not... I cannot shake this fear that something will go wrong and that we will all die before any of them can be found. We prepare for the future, however. Our magic will not die. It will course through the veins of our children — it is our legacy. But it is this fear that causes me to write this note — just in case. I see things others don’t, and I see the long, dark shadow of the Witchfinder General and I see blood and fire. I tell myself it is my imagination, but that is to deny my power.

  “If someone else finds this note then I am dead, but I hope it will not be too late to find the book. I believe I have hidden it wisely. Our book has old spells from the dark times, and our power of spirit and fire. Whoever you are, when you choose to look for it, think of what we do. It will be there. And then guard it well.

  Imogen Bonneville.”

  Alex shot upright, looking at Avery in shock. “Did you say, ‘Bonneville?’”

  She swallowed, “Yes.”

  “But that’s my surname.”

  “I know. I did warn you it might be one of our ancestors!”

  His dark eyes were troubled, and he stretched his hand out and took the note. “I know, but thinking it and knowing it are two very different things.”

  Avery leaned back, watching him and thinking. “At least one of your ancestors wasn’t burnt at the stake.” She shuddered. “I know it happened a long time ago, but it suddenly feels like it happened only last year. It’s one of those things I push to the back of my mind. I still can’t believe Helena didn’t use her powers to escape.”

  “It would put everyone at risk, the letter said as much. Can you imagine if that happened now?”

  “There must have been more to it than that. She said, “Our magic is not as powerful as it once was.“ And I don’t want to think about that happening again. We may have to use our magic more openly if we get threatened, and then what?”

  “I’m not sure we can afford to do that now, any more than they could then.” Alex looked at the note. “Imogen mentions a prophecy, and a legacy of fire, so they are clearly skills that run in my family. But how did this box end up at Gil’s house?”

  “Another mystery to add to the many,” Avery observed, thinking that life was about to get far more complicated, and probably dangerous.

  ***

  Briar, El, and Gil looked at them both in amazement. The box sat in the middle of the attic floor in pride of place, the rest of the files and books surrounding it, spread on the floor in all directions. They perched on floor cushions, rugs, and the sagging sofa. Candles filled the room, and the scent of incense drifted around.

  “So, you found this box in Anne’s attic?” Gil asked, again.

  “Yes. I know it’s weird, but she’s been hiding it for years,” Avery explained for what seemed the hundredth time. “And she got it from your great-aunt.”

  “But it actually belongs to me,” Alex added.

  Gil closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa. “I need time to think.”

  “But Gil,” Briar said insistently, “you really had no idea about your crazy, black magic-seeking uncle?”

  “Great-great-uncle,” he murmured without opening his eyes. “No! I did not.”

  “And what about your brother?” she asked, referring to Reuben, Gil’s younger brother who generally avoided all magic.

  “I doubt he knows, either.” He remained prone on the sofa, hands over his eyes.

  Alex interrupted, “Briar, can we give Gil a moment without the twenty questions?”

  Briar looked at him wide-eyed. “They’re important questions, Alex. Some crazy person from his family is after some old hidden grimoires, and we are at risk!”

  “Yes, thank you, Briar, I know that. But this is not the time for blame. It’s not Gil’s fault. And actually, we don’t know what we sense yet. It could be Gil’s family, or it could be someone completely different.”

  Avery suppressed a smile, enjoying the fact that Briar was at the receiving end of Alex’s sarcasm and not her. If she was honest, Briar was a little brittle tonight. As soon as she’d arrived at Avery’s flat, she looked around suspiciously, and narrowed her eyes when she saw Alex already there, leaning against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand. Did she fancy Alex? Avery wouldn’t be surprised. He was very good looking, she had to admit. He had that rugged self-assuredness that was infuriating but mesmerising all at the same time. She found his closeness surprisingly unsettling.

  Avery tucked a strand of her dark red hair behind her ear and coughed slightly. “So, to get back to our plan. We need to go through all of this paperwork and see if we can work out where the old grimoires are.”

  El spoke for the first time in ages, “And see what else our old histories may show us.”

  “Exactly,” Avery looked at El gratefully. “We also need to look at the old town plans, records, and anything else. And we need to work quickly, before someone else works it out before us.”

  “How come none of us knew about the old grimoires?” Briar asked. “Surely family members would have passed them down.”

  “Oh, I can tell you why.” Gil said, sitting up and rubbing his hair so that it spiked upwards. “Fear. After Helena died, I would imagine they were only too happy to let them disappear completely.”

  “But the grimoires are our strength,” Avery reasoned. “Surely when the risk was over, at least one family would have gone back for theirs.”

  El shrugged. “Another mystery. And what about the box? Have you examined it?”

  “Every inch,” Alex said. “I recognise some symbols, but not all. Runes are not really my speciality. It’s a bit weird that it may have been carved by or for my family.”

  El shuffled forward and sat next to the box, her silver bangles jangling as she ran her hands across the surface. “It must be several centuries old, right?” She looked up at them, “And we think these objects are from the 1500s?”

  “We think so, yes,” Alex confirmed. “If we use the letter to date it.”

  “I’m familiar with runes, and these ones offer protection. They ward off evil, and hide it from prying eyes.”

  “If they could do this, why didn’t they do it with the grimoires?” Briar asked.

  “Still too big a risk, I would imagine,” Avery said. “Anyway, I’ve started looking through the history of the town. Do you know where your old family houses would have been?”

  “Well, you know where mine is,” Gil said. “We haven’t moved in years. I would imagine our grimoire is hidden within the grounds, but maybe I’m being simplistic.”

  “Well, it sounds like your great-great uncle Addison had been looking for it, and he must have looked everywhere,” Alex reasoned. He looked at Gil, puzzled. “Did you really have no idea about him and your disappeared line?”

  “No, none.” Gil looked at them, still raking his hand through his hair. “I’m in shock, actually. I’ll have to speak to Reu about it, but I’m sure he knows nothing, either. As you know, he prefers to ignore our magic.”

  Avery didn’t really know Reuben, but he was closer to her age, and very different to Gil. “Are you sure he doesn’t like magic, Gil? I would have thought he would have moved from White Haven if he wanted to ignore his history. Like my sister did.” Sometimes magic didn’t run strongly in all family members, and sometimes they just preferred to ignore it and bury their talent. Her sister, Bryony, had buried it for years and moved away, unlike Avery who had honed and practised her magic, becoming stronger every day. The thought of finding the old family grimoire filled her with excitement.

  “I don’t know what he thinks, Avery, we just do
n’t talk about it anymore.”

  “How does it work with your wife, Gil?” Briar asked. She sat cross-legged on a cushion, watchful, and it seemed to Avery, still annoyed about something. “Does she know about your magic? I mean, I presumed she did, but…”

  “I hide it,” he said. “All of it.”

  Avery felt a jolt of disbelief, and looked at him, shocked. Gil was the only one of them who was married, or in fact in a relationship of any kind. It wasn’t that any of them hadn’t been in relationships, but they didn’t last that long. She presumed for his marriage to have lasted, his wife, Alicia, must have known.

  “Really?” Alex also seemed surprised. “How is that even possible? You live with her every day. Aren’t you hiding part of yourself? Your real self?”

  Gil thought for a moment. “I’ve broached the subject, you know, of the history of this place, and what would she think if there really were witches, but she looked at me like I was mad.” He looked at the others, a rueful smile on his face. “I left it, and kept promising myself I’d bring it up later, but chickened out.” He looked at them all and laughed. “You should see your faces! I know it’s mad, but I’ve made it work.” He became serious, dropping his gaze to the floor for a second, and then he looked up sheepishly. “I was lonely, and I needed her. I need her now. I don’t know how you do it. We’re so different from everyone else, I just needed a connection.”

  El, Avery, Alex, and Briar all looked at each other, a flash of understanding passing between them. “It’s all right, mate,” Alex said awkwardly. “You don’t need to explain yourself to us.”

  El smiled sadly, and leaned against the wooden box. “I envy you, Gil. It is hard, that’s why I came back here. It’s why I like hanging out with your brother. He might not practice magic, but at least he understands it. And me.”

  Avery tried to hide her surprise. Elspeth, like Briar, had moved back to White Haven a few years ago. Their families had moved away when they were children, and both had felt White Haven’s magical pull, returning in their early twenties. She had no idea El spent time with Reuben, and realised there were so many connections she didn’t know about.

  Gil obviously knew, because he just nodded. “I know. I’m hoping you’ll change his mind.”

  El shook her head. “I think it would take something big to do that.”

  “Well,” Briar said, looking regretful, “My last boyfriend loved that I could make all these cool potions and creams, except when he suspected they might really work. He just couldn’t get his head around it, no matter how much I tried to play it down. It was the midnight herb gathering that really freaked him out. The whole relationship thing exhausts me. Unless I meet someone who understands me, I’ve sworn off it for the future.” She glanced at Alex and then stared into distance, lost in thought.

  “And what about you, Avery?” Alex asked.

  His stare was so direct; it felt intimate, even with everyone else there, and Avery stumbled over her words. “I guess I’ve had the same experience as everyone else. Old boyfriends have thought I was odd, with endearing hobbies—you know, my tarot reading and book obsessions—and I really played them down. I thought my last boyfriend was okay with it, but it turns out, he wasn’t. But lucky me, we remain good friends!” She shrugged, feeling embarrassed, even though there was no need to. “And what about you, Alex?” she asked, returning the question. “No secret girlfriends hidden away?”

  He laughed. “Several, all at arm’s length.”

  “No surprises there, then,” Avery said, rolling her eyes as everyone laughed.

  “Liar,” El said, unexpectedly, watching Alex with her head tucked speculatively on one side. “You don’t fool me, Alex Bonneville. That ladies man thing is just an act.”

  Alex’s response was just as unexpected. He threw his head back and laughed. “No comment. I reserve the right to privacy. As do my women. And there’s always room for more.” He winked at El, Briar, and Avery.

  “You’re revolting!” Briar shrieked in mock horror, and threw a cushion at Alex, who laughed again.

  Gil tried to bring them back to order. “If we can move on from Alex’s harem, what’s the plan with these grimoires?”

  Avery answered, trying to shake off the memory of the glint in Alex’s eye. He was way too dangerously sexy. And unobtainable. Instead she voiced something she didn’t really believe, but thought she’d say anyway. “Maybe we should leave these grimoires alone. To find them could change everything. We’ve managed all these years without them.”

  “It’s too late for that, “Alex said. “I think that the moment Anne Somersby died, something was set in motion. And we both know something else is coming,” he said, looking pointedly at Avery. “We have no choice, we have to find the grimoires first, and whatever else is hidden from our past. And we have to stick together.”

  “I can’t take any of this home yet,” Gil said. “Do you mind if I leave it here?”

  “No, of course not,” Avery shrugged. “Where do you hide your grimoire at home, though?”

  He grinned. “There’s a hidden panel in the attic, and a secret room. But I rarely go up there. The spells I need for my garden I know by heart. Alicia just thinks I have eccentric gardening habits. She doesn’t like gardening, anyway, and her job keeps her busy.”

  “Well, I don’t want to move this box, not in the daylight, anyway,” Alex said. “If that’s okay, Avery? I’ll take the files, though. Exciting bedtime reading!”

  “Sure, whatever you want.”

  El agreed, “I’ll take my family papers, too, but all the general stuff on the town and that, maybe we should leave here?”

  “I agree,” Briar added. “Let’s meet again, soon. Share what we have.”

  Avery nodded, “All right, Wednesday night?”

  “What are we all doing for the Solstice?” Alex asked. “That’s only a week away. We should celebrate it together.”

  Avery had never celebrated it with anyone else before, but before she could protest, a chorus of agreement rang out. Alex grinned, a triumphant smile as he glanced at Avery. “Good, I’ll start planning.”

  7

  When she wasn’t working at the shop, Avery spent every spare moment in the attic looking at her family tree and piecing the history of her family together, while also reading up on White Haven’s history. Anne had really done her research, and Avery’s head swam with details.

  She had a meticulous family tree, going back to the 1500s. Whether Anne couldn’t find anything before then, or had given up at that point, it wasn’t clear. She’d also glanced at Gil’s, and that went back to the 1500s, too. It must have taken Anne years. It was odd, to spend so much time on someone else’s history. Some of the names on her family tree coincided with names written in the front of her grimoire. She remembered adding her own when she was sixteen, her mother encouraging her in the family traditions. The only time she had, actually. Shortly after that her mother left White Haven, and she hadn’t revealed anything about a previous spell book, lost or otherwise. Maybe she didn’t know about it.

  Amongst Anne’s papers was a map of White Haven and the surrounding area, marked with numbers and letters, and Avery pinned it to the wall, removing a few prints to make room. She marked Gil’s house on there. It was the only one that they knew had belonged to the family through the years. But where had everyone else’s family once live? She was pretty sure that the bookshop and the house it was in only belonged to the family in the late 1800s.

  Avery looked around at her attic, and wondered about the other witches who had stood here working their spells. It was cluttered with papers and books from Anne, her own spell books, and books on herbs, metals, and gems. Her tarot cards were on the table, folded in silk and placed in their own special box. The carved wooden box still sat on the floor, although she had pushed it to the side, under the window. It drew her eye all the time, no matter where in the room she sat.

  As the light was fading and the shadows lengthened ac
ross the floor, Avery felt unsettled and restless. She grabbed a bundle of sage from the shelf and lit the end with a flash from her fingers. The sage sizzled and smoked, and she marched to a corner of the room, chanting a cleansing spell as she worked around the room, clearing the air.

  With another click of her fingers, she lit the candles around the room, and the dark corners pooled with a warm yellow light, immediately comforting her. She sat and pulled out her tarot cards, shuffling them thoroughly and focusing on what she wanted to ask them. Alex’s image came to her mind, but she pushed it away. She wanted to know if something was still coming. A stranger, a threat, or what?

  The cards warmed beneath her hands and she slowed her breathing as she started to place out the cards. As she turned each card, she saw herself, she saw Alex, and a card that could be Gil, and then the major arcana cards came, chilling her blood. The Devil, the Tower, and the Moon, and too many sword cards, ending with the King of Swords.

  She swept the cards up in a hurry, jumping when she heard a knock on the door. Attackers didn’t usually knock, she reassured herself, as she ran down the two flights of stairs to her front door. She could see Alex’s silhouette through the glass and she felt relieved, if puzzled. She opened the door and he stepped in, grinning and waving a bottle of wine. He looked good tonight, his long hair loose and freshly washed; he smelt of something musky.

  “I come bearing gifts!” He hesitated as he looked at her. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, I’ve just read the cards again and they look awful. You made me jump, that’s all.”

  “Well, good job I’m here then. Do you mind if I look at that box again?”

  “Of course not, it’s yours.”

  He looked at her expectantly. “Glasses?”

  She grinned. “Carry on up, I’ll grab them.”

  By the time she returned to the attic, Alex had dragged the box to the centre of the floor again, and now sat cross-legged in front of it, examining it closely. He had pulled a book from his canvas pack and it lay open on the floor next to him, revealing pages illustrated with drawings and descriptions of runes.