An Embittered Witch, page 4
‘I’ve been honing my Dragon Magic and brushing up on my language skills,’ she said acidly, without turning to look my way. ‘Preparing for this. I knew this delegation was coming, and I was determined to be included.’
‘Languages?’ That threw me for a loop. Win was all about her magic arts. Languages – anyone could learn them. Even I had a smattering of French and German from my misspent university years.
‘Mandarin. Cantonese. Bayingolin. And Tibetan.’ She bit off each word as she listed them. ‘We are going to Asia, after all. I wish to be as useful as I can be. I have positioned myself so they will need me in the heart of the Discussions. That is the proper way to advance in this organization. Not stealing magic and bungling and being mixed up with shady sorcerers.’
Ouch.
‘I have no doubt you’ll be with the Huxor’s group,’ Win carried on proudly. ‘As you have fooled her into becoming your sponsor. As such, you will be working with land claims.’ She gave a sniff as she looked down her perfect nose, showing her disdain. ‘She’s going after the adamantite rights. If you’d had any foresight, you would have learned Mandarin at least. I don’t see how you’ll be much help at all.’
I gathered together what feeble pride I could muster.
‘Actually, I’m pretty sure I’ll be assigned to Hugh’s group,’ I told her, matching the loftiness of her tone. I nodded toward the front of the room where my fiancé stood in discussion with all the other honchos.
‘You think so, eh?’ She sneered, just as Johanna approached the microphone and a loud feedback squawk filled the space.
Dammit, she’d gotten the last word in.
The next hour was filled with a lot of bla-bla from those on the podium. The welcome statement, the statement of intent for the mission, the introduction of the key players. It was dead boring, and I was starving by this time. I stood up quietly and sneaked over to the entrance to see if the caterers had set up anything yet in the lobby for the morning break. This was Edinburgh, after all, and the Scots understood the importance of butter and pastries. I intended to get first pick at the goodies.
I glanced round before darting out the door. The blond spook was nowhere to be seen.
As I wandered by the long tables set out with refreshments, I frowned. There were no buttery pastries here, only the standard packets of shortbread and biscuits, individually wrapped in cellophane. Nothing to get excited about. I shoved a handful into my hoodie front before realizing there was no way I’d be able to eat them in the main room. It would be like unwrapping a candy in church, the noise would draw every eye in the room to me. I hastily opened one shortbread packet, shoved the contents in my mouth and, trying to munch as quietly as possible, went to slip back into the room unnoticed.
And there he was, just to the left of the doorjamb, partially hidden behind a large potted plant.
‘Wait, I need to speak with you.’ His voice was urgent.
‘Well, I don’t need to speak with you,’ I informed him through my mouthful of biscuit even as I arrogantly flicked my hair back.
He ignored my efforts to quell him. ‘You’re friends with Margaret Forsythe,’ he whispered, laying his hand on my arm.
I looked at that intrusive hand like it was a nasty big spider. He coughed and let go of me, but didn’t move away.
I washed down the shortbread with my coffee before I spoke.
‘I may have had run-ins with that witch, in the past,’ I loftily informed him. ‘But if you know the lady at all, you’ll realize that doesn’t necessarily make us friends.’
‘I need to get in touch with her.’
‘You and the rest of the Kin,’ I snarked. He was persistent, I’d give him that, even if he was piss-poor at his job. Did he really think I couldn’t see through him? ‘Good luck with that.’
‘I know you’re not like the rest of them,’ he said, flicking his head toward the room full of witches.
I drank another sip of coffee to hide my amazement at his nerve. Who did he think he was fooling?
‘Oh, well done,’ I remarked to him dryly. ‘Pretending you’re not one of them, and that your job isn’t to ferret out Margaret’s whereabouts, eh?’
I shook my head, lifting one eyebrow. ‘Sorry, they’ll have to look for another route to get to her,’ I continued as I pushed past him to enter the room. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed at the airport, she didn’t leave me her business card or address. So I’m afraid you’re out of luck.’
The speeches came to a close, and people began milling around the room, looking at the lists which had just been posted in large fonts. There was a lot of buzz and chatter.
I spotted Win standing in front of one of the boards and headed directly over. I wasn’t finished with that witch yet.
‘What’s happening?’ I asked around the mush of crumbs in my mouth. I washed them down with the last of my coffee and wiped my mouth with my sleeve.
She turned to me, and if looks could kill, I’d be a goner. Daggers flew from her flint-black eyes and her face screwed up with rage.
‘You!’ Win shook so hard she could hardly spit out the word. ‘You...’ Squeezing her eyes shut as if holding in a scream, she stormed off toward the entrance.
Her extreme upset must have something to do with the assignments. I jerked closer, scanning the list for any mention of her name, or mine. My mouth fell open when I found them, realizing why she’d been so furious.
On the bright side, Win wasn’t assigned to the inner circle, but that was the only good news. Hugh was, of course, but I wasn’t either.
Dammit. My name was listed under Cate’s division, together with Win’s. Not only was I going to have to work under Cate, but I would have to endure Win constantly trying to outdo me, every step of the way. How annoying. How exhausting.
I swallowed the bitter lump which rose in my throat.
Not only that, but it looked like a really boring assignment. How could I get excited about mining and distribution rights? There was no magic involved in that.
Seven
Cate gathered her tiny group at The Witchery restaurant. We were so few in number that the three of us didn’t even merit a room, just the corner table at the back with an intricately carved wooden lattice screen for privacy. The white linen tablecloth glowed in the soft light cast by a single overhead fixture, and the silverware glinted like old money. At least we were being treated to a three-course lunch.
Win and I sat as far away from each other as we could, considering there were only three place settings. We had nothing to say to each other as we waited for Cate.
‘Well, this is a happy group, isn’t it?’ Cate remarked drily as she took her seat and looked at both of us in turn. ‘Cheer up, it’s not the end of the world. I think you’ll both be grateful for the opportunities I’m offering you.’
A waiter quietly poured us glasses of white wine without first asking us our preferences, and another laid a bowl of soup in front of each of us. It was a cream soup with bits of carrot visible in its thickness, and the smell was divinely hot and garlicky. The accompanying bread must have been fresh out of the oven, small rectangles of sourdough. My mouth watered and my belly rumbled, but Win’s haughty expression showed she wasn’t impressed.
‘With all due respect, I feel my talents will be wasted with this assignment.’ She punctuated her words by crossing her arms over her chest. ‘I must object and request another posting.’
Cate’s finely etched brows rose, intrigued by this declaration and not showing the slightest offence. She tore her bread into quarters, then buttered one piece. I took that as a sign it was okay to begin, so I immediately put spoon to bowl and started shoveling it in. I only dripped a bit on my hoody.
‘And furthermore.’ Win pointedly stared first at me and then Cate.
‘What?’ I asked. ‘Finish your thought.’ I used the linen napkin to wipe the creamy mess off my front, dabbing very delicately, or so I thought.
‘She doesn’t even have basic table manners! How can you subject me to this? We will be a laughing stock at the negotiations. No one will ever take me seriously again after this.’ Win was so upset tears sprang to her eyes and she hit the table with both fists.
I wanted to reach over and smack her one, I was so embarrassed. What was she on about, table manners? I hadn’t spit on my napkin to wet it first. Was I supposed to tuck the stupid thing in like a bib? We were eating soup for God’s sake, and soup dripped.
The older witch merely smiled, and reached over to pat Win’s hand. ‘Things are not as dire as you believe them to be,’ she said softly. She flicked a smile at me, including me. ‘Table manners are easily acquired, and I think you will be quite surprised to learn the true nature of our mission.’
Cate refused to say more on the matter except, ‘Business will be discussed over coffee.’ Instead, she showed me by example the correct way to lift the soup spoon away from me, lightly touching the silver against the far side of the bowl to capture any rogue spills.
It worked, I was surprised to find, although it felt counter-intuitive to move the spoon away from myself instead of hunching over the bowl to prevent the inevitable drops.
I was still narked at Win for pointing out my ignorance, though. And I despised Cate just as a matter of course. But the food was too good to waste, and for the rest of the meal I waited to see how they approached the dining intricacies and followed suit, using the right forks and even to the point of laying my silverware at a prescribed angle on the plate when finished. I would never, ever allow myself to be embarrassed by Win again.
‘Now then. To business.’ The final dessert plate had been removed and coffee poured into the exquisite tiny cups. Cate leaned forward.
‘As I was saying, the true nature of our small delegation. Yes, officially we are in charge of determining the mining rights of China’s adamantite, and advising on the best, most ecologically sustainable methods of extraction.’ She laughed and looked at us, as if expecting us to share the joke.
‘Ridiculous really,’ she murmured. ‘Such a flimsy excuse when these discussions could easily be held over a Zoom meeting.’
Cate smiled again at us both, knowing she had our full attention now. Even Win’s frown had disappeared.
‘You have, of course, heard the terrible news about Zande the Great. He lies still in his hotel bed in Nairobi, apparently asleep.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘It’s simply unnatural, for him. His claim to fame is that his magic is so strong, he has no need for the recuperative powers of sleep. Obviously, he’s under a curse from a worker of magic, but who? Who is powerful enough to cause such a thing? What witch or sorcerer has the means?’
She shook her head again, but then all pretense dropped from her face, looking seriously at both of us in turn. ‘Beneath the façade of mining rights, our actual mission in China is to find out what has really happened in this case.’
Neither of us had expected her to drop this bomb. The three of us were to be part of a real investigation, a magic one, and an undercover operation to boot. My heart beat fast. Never mind that I would have to work alongside Win. I could deal with that later.
And never mind Cate, either. Perhaps this was an opportunity to actually show my skills and prowess for real.
‘But,’ Win started, giving me a quick glance.
‘But why China, you ask,’ Cate said, nodding her acknowledgement. ‘Why Asia, when the Great Zande sleeps in Africa? That, my dear fledglings, that is where you come in. We need to find the source of this enchantment, for he is most certainly under a spell. A spell so intricate, so devious, that the finest magical minds can’t decipher it.’
Win’s lips were a perfect ‘O’ as she listened to Cate’s words. Her mind was far away, no doubt picturing how she would solve it.
‘But,’ I had to interject. ‘If they can’t decipher it, how do you know it’s a spell?’
‘I know firsthand. While I was on my recent travels to Zanzibar, I was requested to confer, being in the neighborhood, so to speak.’ Cate sat straighter and lifted her chin. ‘There is no fingerprint to the magic.’
Her eyes narrowed. I couldn’t allow my face to show the shock flashing through my mind. Cate had been in Africa.
‘I have my suspicions, of course,’ she continued, after a pause. She glanced between the two of us. ‘And this is why I specifically requested both of you for my team. Win, we need you because of your language skills. I fear we are up against a mighty foe.’
Win nodded eagerly and squared her shoulders, practically preening.
‘Dara, you also are invaluable to this mission,’ Cate said softly, her dark eyes luminous in the overhead light. ‘For you are perhaps the only witch in this world who knows the culprit. You will help us find her.’
She caught the dawning comprehension, and she smiled. ‘Yes, we need to find Margaret Forsythe and stop her before she strikes again.’
Margaret. No, this was all wrong. And Cate had been in Africa when the Great Zande had been cursed? Oh, no. That could not be a coincidence.
Eight
Margaret would not have had anything to do with a sleeping spell placed over some ancient sorcerer in Africa. It was a ridiculous, ludicrous accusation. Meg would have no reason to be there. She liked beaches and sunshine to warm her bones. Considering the discussion we’d had on the Bridge to Nowhere, this whole thing stank.
‘That’s preposterous, and you know it!’ No way was I letting her do this.
Cate merely cocked her head in my direction, inviting me to explain myself.
‘Meg... Margaret Forsythe would never do such a thing, casting spells like that. For what purpose, except to wreak havoc?’ I shook my head. ‘What reason would she have to do that? That’s – that’s just crazy talk.’
My eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Win’s mouth was a thin line of disapproval that I would dare speak in such a manner to Cate, yet her eyes reflected the never-ending calculations inside her head.
‘Is it?’
‘Of course it is, Cate.’ I leaned back, and consciously adopted a more reasonable, calm tone. ‘You don’t know Margaret. I do, a bit at least. And the last thing she would ever do is cast spells on other magic workers.’
‘And why is that?’ Cate’s tone remained cool, civil even, interested in what I had to say.
‘Because she doesn’t care! She doesn’t give a damn about the Kin or their politics or anyone.’
‘Doesn’t care? Or is she, in fact, holding a deep grudge against the Kin? One perhaps nurtured during her imprisonment, the long years underground. I would certainly be perturbed if they’d done it to me. Perhaps you misinterpret her disdain for all things Kin. A witch of her power surely would never stand for such treatment. No more than you or I would.’
I shook my head stubbornly. I couldn’t let her cast false aspersions on Margaret. The Scottish witch had many faults – I’d witnessed more than a few – and she could hold a grudge with the best of them, but Margaret had no quarrel with the Great Zande, not that I was aware of.
‘And what if I tell you she had been in the area all that time? Since leaving Tomnahurich, excepting of course her visits to.’
‘She’s not in Africa! She’s on a beach somewhere.’ Admittedly, my geographic knowledge of Asia was somewhat sketchy, but I knew that the first would be on the coast of the Indian Ocean while the other was inland. Wasn’t it? I ignored the fact that distance was irrelevant for Margaret, conveniently dismissing how quickly she’d come to me when I was half a world away. ‘The only thing her confinement in that damp dungeon left her with, was an overwhelming need to soak up the heat of the sun.’
Although, that wasn’t all of it. Those long years underground with nothing better to do than think had also given Margaret a wisdom that surpassed the petty political machinations of the Kin. And that was the real reason I was almost one hundred percent sure that Margaret could have nothing to do with the Great Zande’s long nap.
But of course with Meg, there was always that one percent of uncertainty.
‘Besides, she doesn’t believe in spells,’ I added, somewhat belatedly. I looked up from the table to meet Cate’s gaze.
‘And she’s a good friend of yours?’ she asked softly. ‘Seen much of her lately?’
‘Well, no,’ I began, then hesitated.
Had news of our airport meeting reached Cate’s ears? Her eyes told me nothing. Perhaps it hadn’t been her who’d put the spook on my trail. Perhaps that had been the work of the Covenanters. I had no way of knowing for sure.
Cate wouldn’t have used such a poor specimen to do her dirty work, though. I thought back to the spy’s ill-fitting clothes and unfashionable hair cut. No, she would never have hired him.
But even if he worked for Cromwell and the Covenanters, surely some word of the meeting would have reached Cate, if only to pass on the glee of Margaret’s terrible anger when she left me so abruptly.
Cate knew full well that when we’d last seen Lady Margaret Forsythe back home in Newfoundland, the Scottish witch had left in a flurry and a snit because she believed I had tricked her into opening the ley seams to allow Cate to soak in the energy.
Margaret was honorable, and that was precisely why I believed she would never have bothered to commit this crime. But I couldn’t say all that aloud, not with Win present. My hand reached up to the little adamantite stud hidden beneath my hair. I couldn’t say a word.
‘She’s no friend to the Kin, and you know it,’ Cate drawled.
Win had been watching us both during this exchange, her narrowed eyes going back and forth as we lobbed the weight of suspicion. At last she spoke up.
‘In the light of all this new information concerning our mission, I for one am thrilled to be included on this assignment, Cate,’ she said, sitting herself up even straighter in her chair.
