How to Stone a Crow (Witch Like a Boss Book 2) Read online

 

  “Sure.” Enough of the existential babble. Witches were in danger of popping out of existence. “Do you know how to mix potions?”

  Ferdinand ran up my arm and stuck his hands on my chin. Although adorable, being scrutinised from such a close distance made the hairs on my neck rise.

  “Well, I’m sure Annalisa would make a quip about needing them if she were here, but we’re after information. Two witches have disappeared and the ingredients for a disappearance potion were stolen—”

 

  I frowned at the lizard. “Semantics aside, Paisley took things that didn’t belong—”

  Meep this time.

  “We think that—”

  Meep raised his head and scanned the entire group, now crowded close together in the dim clearing.

  “Fine.” I raised a hand in frustration, curling it into a fist. “I think that Paisley took ingredients that can be used to make a potion to disappear witches. What do you know about that?”

  —Ferdinand glanced over to Meep, who nodded—

  “Well, I’m assuming that Paisley didn’t want to conjure a Fae out of nothing.”

  He retreated to my shoulder, standing with one hand resting on my ear.

  Aunt Florentine snorted. “They eat things that shouldn’t ever go near someone’s mouth. Hardly lovely.”

 

  “Could you just answer the question?”

  Ferdinand the Great ran down my arm and jumped back to his tree.

  “The potion can also be used to bond witches to a familiar against their will,” Aunt Florentine said, stepping forward. “Do you have the collective knowledge to perform that spell?”

  Meep earned himself another black look.

  I moved closer, squatting and holding out my hand until he came near. “You’re such a good dog,” I cooed to him, giving him a heap of head pats until his tail wagged in circles. “Who’s a good boy?”

 

  At Ferdinand’s sharp retort, Meep skittered a few steps away, out of my reach. “That wasn’t my idea. Mum moved us up to Auckland.”

 

  “If it had been up to me, I wouldn’t have gone.”

  Genevieve sighed. “Sometimes things happen. You can hardly blame Desdemona for moving away. She was only five.”

 

  “Okay.” I stood up, knees cracking, and raised my hands. “That’s a bit on me and a bit on whatever Mum did to muck up my memory. Until Annalisa mentioned you yesterday, I’d—”

  My aunt cut me off. “What she means to say is she’s sorry and of course you’ll be part of her life from now on.”

  I nodded. “That is exactly what I mean to say.” It was hard to read Ferdinand’s expression with his eyes rolling everywhere. After a moment of silence, I added, “Unless you don’t want me in your life.”

  Meep raced forward, jumping up at me until I picked him up off the ground. His long tongue found my face and licked it until I giggled.

 

  Meep gave a wheezy bark that I guessed was his version of a laugh.

 

  “This is part of my property, so there’s no need to leave. You’re welcome to come into the house whenever you want to.” Under my breath, I muttered, “Everyone else seems to.”

 

  Genevieve folded her arms. “It’d be more settled if you told us exactly what is happening with the stolen ingredients.” After ten second’s silence, she tapped her foot. “Come on. I don’t want to have to command you as the coven supreme, but if you make me, I will.”

  I raised my eyebrows, frightened at what that might entail, but a glance at my aunt’s dismissive expression relaxed me.

  It appeared Aunt Florentine wasn’t the only one who rated the supreme’s influence low on the scale.

  Ferdinand scurried down the tree and plunged into the intertwined ferns, finally popping his head up near my feet.

  Genevieve’s expression was clearly instructing me to say yes, but I shook my head. “No, it doesn’t. Hop aboard and we can go home right now.”

  As we retraced our steps, Patrick moved over, tapping me on the shoulder. “Take a look at this.”

  The needle on his counter wavered wildly back and forth, tipping so far into the red it hit against the far side and bounced back again.

  “It’s getting all this from the clearing?”

  “No. Well, some. There must be a few animals hidden—”

  “Familiars,” Jared growled. “There’s a difference.”

  “Right. Some familiars must still be hiding out of sight, so they’re causing a higher background reading than normal, but most of this is something else entirely.” Once again, he gestured towards the path to the cemetery. “Whatever’s causing it is coming from over there.”

  Jared raised his nose into the air and took a deep sniff. “There’s something weird going on. Do you think Andrew’s having another go at ruining his burial ground?”

  In the awful commotion of the morning, I’d forgotten our original troublemaker. We set off for the cemetery, Aunt Florentine and Genevieve following with reluctance.

  When we emerged from the forest and tugged open the iron gate, I saw immediately that Andrew’s grave had been further disturbed. This time, it wasn’t just some petals tossed around. The ground looked to have been scooped out in chunks and a spattering of mud obscured his name.

  “Do you think he did this?” Jared leant forward, using a snatched handful of grass to cut through the worst of the damage. “Is he trying to eradicate his death?”

  “Who knows?” Patrick said idly, his concentration focused on the whirring machine in his hands. “This is so far off the scale, I don’t even know how to measure it.”

  “Oh, pity. Your one skill is now rendered useless. Shame.”

  Jared winced when I slapped him on the forearm. “Don’t start that nonsense again.” I moved one plot over, startled when a large black bird landed on the imposing headstone. It fixed me with one beady eye, leaning forward to tap a tuneless beat on the marble. “What’s that? A crow?”

  “We don’t have crows in New Zealand,” Patrick said, peering at the bird.

  “Don’t have wolves either, but…” I gestured to Jared whose beard seemed to thicken with every passing hour.

  “They have rooks down in Otago,” Aunt Florentine said, stepping back as another bird landed on the grave. “Perhaps it’s come up to warmer climes for a holiday.”

  Another bird landed a second later, crowding the first off its perch, so it landed near its companion on the grave. The way it tilted its head, catching a still photo of me with first one eye then the other, creeped me out.

  “Shoo.” I waved my hands and stepped closer. “Get out of here.”

  Instead of moving, the birds just pecked at the ground whi
le the one on the gravestone tapped out a new beat. Another bird joined the pack, pulling a juicy worm out of the soil and tipping it down its gullet while it squirmed.

  “Benedict Kelburn,” I read off the headstone. “Isn’t that the guy who owned Kelburn Manor?”

  “And the old dentist,” Patrick added. “Remember Wes told us that, this morning?”

  A bird landed behind me, giving an indignant squawk until I stepped aside to let it join its friends.

  “What’s a group of these things called?” Jared asked with a nervous laugh. “A squadron.”

  “A murder,” my aunt supplied in a dry voice.

  “Do you think…” Patrick trailed off until I gave him a nudge in the ribs. “Sorry. It’s stupid, but… Do you think that’s the murder Andrew was talking about?”

  “Given the number of times he mentioned a killer on the loose as well, I doubt it.” When his face fell, I jerked my chin at his meter. “What are they registering on your thingamabob?”

  He turned the machine on, then snapped the switch off when it went crazy. “Uh, high.”

  A new arrival landed to my side, then stepped forward and pecked at my sneaker. “What?” When the bird attacked it again, I kicked at its head, unease making me cruel. The crow swerved easily, keeping me in its sight until I relaxed my foot, whereupon it pecked at my shoe again.

  “Raaahhhhh!” Jared screamed.

  His efforts went unremarked by the birds but made me jump a foot.

  “This is not right.” Genevieve stepped back, taking a photo of the birds on her phone. “Anyone got a scarecrow spell in their pocket?”

  “It’s something about keeping the crops safe and…” My aunt rubbed her forehead. To see her so flustered made me more scared than the birds themselves. “Desdemona, can you just rustle up some magic and throw it at them?”

  I obliged, sending out a ball of sparkles twice as strong as the one that had rolled Evelyn’s door up like paper. The magic hovered in the air as though uncertain what to do. “Move them on, for goodness’ sake. Get them out of here.”

  It spread out in a layer, then the sparkles dissipated, some wafting away in the gentle breeze and the rest sinking into the ground.

  “Good work.” My aunt pulled me back and stepped forward to take my place. “How about bibble, babble, bros, get rid of your crows.”

  All the jazz hand flourishes in the world couldn’t make that spell stick. The birds continued to peck at the ground and the headstone, undeterred.

  “This is nonsense. I’m a thousand times bigger than they are. Stupid things.” With a few hand gestures learned from old karate movies, I advanced on the group. “Get out of here, now!” I shoved my hand at the one perching atop the stone, recoiling as my fingers touched its feathers. They felt slick and oily, nothing at all like the soft feathers of a duckling I’d held as a child.

  The bird cawed, then chased my hand as I withdrew it, pecking at the back and raising a talon to claw at my wrist. Blood spilled from the small line it drew in my flesh and I shoved at it, this time connecting with force.

  “Protect your eyes.” Genevieve’s warning came in the nick of time. I threw an arm across my face just as the sneaker pecker decided to aim for a juicier target. The flutter of wings in the air made me want to cancel my subscription to hearing. I staggered backwards, reassured when Patrick caught me and guided me away.

  “I can’t believe I’m being driven out of my property by a bunch of souped-up blackbirds.” Not that I let my disbelief hinder my efforts to run away. “What’s the number for the nearest exterminator? I want their best here, right now.”

  My indignation was still strong when we reached the safety of home. I opened the front door with a shaking hand, drawing a deep breath to calm myself in case Gareth still lurked downstairs.

  He didn’t. We stumbled into the dining room and I flipped a switch on the kettle. Coffee would deal mischief to my nerves, but a hot drink was the only solution my shattered mind could think of.

  “That was freaky,” Patrick said.

  The inadequacy of the statement sent me into a gasp of startled laughter. “You can say that again.”

  “That was freaky,” he and Jared chorused.

  “We need the entire avian section of the library,” Genevieve said. “I’ve asked Maribelle to pull anything that might be relevant.”

  “Do you think they were possessed?” I turned to Patrick. “Is animal possession even a thing?”

  “There’s stuff in the literature, though I’ve never seen a case of it myself. If a spirit needs to harbour in a body and a human isn’t available, they can take refuge in animal form.”

  “So each of those crows was a potential ghost?”

  This time, he shook his head. “I doubt it. It’s far more likely the spirit is too large to be contained in one form.”

  Genevieve snapped her fingers. “That’s why they were acting in concert. Because they were one being.”

  “One being who needs to get sent back to the grave, quick-smart.” I pulled a sticking plaster out of the drawer and awkwardly stripped the back off, applying it one-handed. “Do you think I need a shot?”

  “Here.” Aunt Florentine leant over and cast a quick spell. The flash of sparkles that settled into my skin took away the worst of the sting instantly. That and a chocolate digestive put me on the road to recovery.

  “Why are all these spirits attacking simultaneously?” I pushed my hair back and sat at the table, dusting crumbs off my top.

  “Remember the dentist office smoke?” Patrick said, then quickly explained to the rest of the group. “Somebody or -bodies brought this forth. It’s not a natural phenomenon.”

  “Who’d want to raise Benedict from the dead?” Aunt Florentine sniffed. “The man was a ruthless brute when he was alive. Apart from his vast fortune, he had no redeeming qualities.”

  “How much of a fortune?” Jared’s eyes lit up. “Would there be a reward for solving this mystery?”

  “I thought you didn’t want payment,” I said with a grin.

  “Not from you and Patrick. However, a modest inheritance would go a long way towards making me more comfortable.”

  “There was nothing modest about Benedict Kelburn’s inheritance,” the supreme said, shaking her head. “And the money’s all gone offshore, to distant relatives.”

  “Apart from—” My aunt clamped her mouth shut as Genevieve glared.

  “What?” I poked her in the knee. “Out with it. Forget about your boss and think about my safety.”

  “It’s nothing to do with safety and the whole thing is just a rumour,” the supreme answered with a sigh. “After he died, half of Briarton was in financial distress, waiting for confirmation of who would be settling his estate. There were business loans, private mortgages, suspended dividends, you name it. For decades, if there’d been a buck to be made in the area, Benedict had a finger in the pie.”

  “How does that affect anything?”

  My aunt was the one who took over. “It doesn’t. Not really. The only thing you need to know is that there were rumours at the time—”

  “Rumours that persist to this day.”

  Aunt Florentine inclined her head to the supreme. “You’re right. To this day people in town believe he had a gigantic fortune hidden somewhere in the town. He loved spending cash and flaunting bling, but when the lawyers divvied up the goods in his house for auction, nothing like that was ever found.”

  “Corrupt lawyers?” Patrick said, his mouth pulling down at the corners. “That’s usually the reason.”

  “No. Not with a witch. Our old supreme would’ve seen straight through something like that.”

  “Benedict Kelburn was a witch?”

  “Yes, but never a powerful one.”

  My interest deflated as quickly as it had been piqued.

  My aunt pressed her lips together until they disappeared. “I think that’s why he became so obsessed with gathering wealth. If he couldn’t assert his
power over people one way, he’d do it another.”

  Annalisa slipped into the room and curled up against my legs.

  “I’m glad she’s safe.” In all the excitement, the Paisley problem had slipped my mind. “Oh!” I sat bolt upright, making another connection. “Of course. This is nothing to do with Benedict Kelburn.”

  “Riiiiiight,” Patrick drawled. “Care to explain that?”

  “It’s Pru.” I pressed my palms flat on the table, side by side. “Andrew’s grave was right next to Kelburn’s. That can’t be a coincidence.” My gaze travelled from Genevieve to my aunt to Patrick to Jared, seeking support. “Andrew was the one who turned before everything else. Pru must be the originator of everything that’s going wrong.”

  A flurry of knocks hit the front door like a hailstorm, and I ran to answer it. Carson stood on the front porch, cradling Sara in his arms. “You must come. Evie’s gone and there’s a… It’s the same…”

  As his words trailed off, Carson’s eyes flicked away from mine, then widened. “You,” he shouted, freeing one hand from supporting his baby’s back to point at the staircase. “This is all your fault. To think I tried to convince Violet you should stay.”

  Paisley gave a strangled howl, jumping into the safety of Wendy’s open arms. “She hasn’t done anything,” the girl shouted back. “I’ve been with her the whole time and she never left the house.”

  “A familiar doesn’t need to leave the house to cause trouble.” Carson’s whole body shook so much he jolted Sara awake and she began to wail. He grabbed hold of the supreme’s hand and dragged her in front of him, pointing to the cat. “You need to lock her up. She’s a monster!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Aunt Florentine and Genevieve joined Annalisa in standing guard over Paisley at the house while Patrick, Jared, and I hightailed it to the other side of town to examine the new crime scene.

  Carson refused to re-enter Evelyn’s house and I couldn’t blame him. With two close relatives disappearing in a matter of days, I’d want to steer clear of any possible route to joining them.