Witch Hunter (28 page)

‘Which is?’

‘That you’d be better off dead,’ she says flatly. ‘Racked,

hanged, burned at the stake. It’s what you deserve.

I guarantee no one would miss you.’

I flinch at the hate in her words, at the truth of them.

‘But until you find this tablet for Nicholas, you’re better

off alive. And for the next few hours it’s up to me to keep

255

you that way. So when we get to this party, stay close

to me. Be pleasant to people, but don’t talk too much.

Not about magic, or curses, or, for God’s sake, witch

hunters. Don’t say anything about Nicholas, or about his

being ill. Don’t mention Humbert. Or John, for that matter,

or George.’

‘Maybe I just won’t talk at all,’ I mutter.

‘And whatever you do, stay away from other

revenants,’ she continues. ‘I can protect you against

Schuyler, but you saw how fast he had you figured out. If

any of the others realise what you are, I don’t know what

might happen.’

I do. It happened to a witch hunter, once. He tried

to take on three revenants alone and wound up torn limb

from limb, eviscerated. There wasn’t even enough of him

left to bury.

‘Scared?’ Fifer smirks.

‘You wish. Now get out of my way.’ I push past her

to the window, climb up on the ledge – hard to do in

this dress – and look down. Schuyler is standing below

me, grinning.

‘Go on then, little mouse. This wolf isn’t going to

hurt you.’

I scowl. Schuyler laughs. Then I jump.

With a muffled thud, I land securely in Schuyler’s arms.

He stares at me a moment before setting me down. ‘Not as

heavy as you seem, are you?’

256

I don’t know what he means by that, but there’s no time

to figure it out. He sets me to my feet and catches Fifer, who

leaps out the window without hesitation. Then the three of

us take off across Humbert’s vast property in the direction

of the nymph lights.

We walk along for several miles, Fifer on one side of me

and Schuyler on the other. I feel like a prisoner. A tortured

prisoner at that, since I’m forced to listen to their inane

flirting. For a boy who’s been around as long as Schuyler

probably has, you’d think he’d have more interesting ways

of talking to a girl.

‘Where’ve you been hiding, love?’

‘I haven’t been hiding.’

‘Then why haven’t I seen you?’

‘You know why.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘No, I don’t.’

On and on they go. Eventually I start daydreaming of

different ways I could kill him. I’m halfway through a plot

that involves a tree branch, a knife, a length of rope and a

sock full of gravel when Schuyler turns to me.

‘So, Elizabeth,’ – the way he says my name sounds like

‘Elizabef ’ – ‘you’re a bit bijoux for a witch hunter, hmm?’

I haven’t a clue what he means, but Fifer leans around

me and slaps his arm.

‘Did you just call her cute?’

257

He shrugs. ‘She is a bit twee. Doesn’t look as if she

could harm anyone.’

‘She’s a violent, deranged, lunatic murderer!’

Schuyler laughs. ‘So am I. But you still think I’m cute.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘No, I don’t.’

I go back to plotting his death.

Eventually the nymph lights grow closer and brighter.

When a shower of them erupts in the sky directly above us,

Schuyler lets out a little whoop and takes off running.

When we catch up to him, he’s lounging against a tree,

an enormous grin on his face.

‘I hope you’re ready, Elizabeth. ’Cause this here’s an eye-

opener.’ He takes me by the shoulders and pushes me

forward. I suck in a breath. I can’t help it. I’ve seen a lot in

my life. But never anything like this.

Through the trees is a valley, like a bowl sunk into the

middle of a forest. Inside is a dizzying array of people,

creatures, magic. And somehow, it’s not dark here. It’s as

bright as a summer day: blue skies, dotted with puffy white

clouds and brightly coloured birds.

I don’t know where to look first. At the beautiful naked

women lounging in the lake? The lush grass that grows

around the water, dotted with brilliantly coloured flowers I

know only grow in spring? Or the trees that sprout lemons,

limes, and figs, fruits I know don’t grow here at all?

258

Music drifts through the air, so beautiful, like nothing

I’ve ever heard before. And are those butterflies? I watch

one flutter by, its blue wings unnaturally bright, even

against the unnaturally bright blue sky. Fifer looks around,

nodding approvingly.

‘How is this happening?’ I ask.

‘Nymphs,’ Schuyler says, still grinning. ‘I love when

they’re in charge of decoration.’

We make our way down the hill. The vast space below is

crowded; there are witches and wizards everywhere. Where

did they all come from? Shouldn’t they be in hiding

somewhere? How are they not afraid? And with this

much magic in one place, why haven’t I heard of this party

before?

‘Doesn’t anyone worry about getting caught?’ I wonder

aloud.

Schuyler shrugs. ‘Who in their right mind would try to

take on this crowd?’ He looks relaxed, bouncing on his toes

and looking around. But Fifer seems wary, looking from me

to Schuyler to the crowd then back to me again, as if she’s

afraid I’m going to charge in and start attacking.

‘Settle down, love.’ Schuyler turns to her. ‘She’s not

getting stabby, so stop worrying.’

‘She’d better not. But if she does’ – she glances at me, a

nasty gleam in her eye – ‘you have my permission to rip her

to shreds.’

Schuyler winks at me and blows a kiss.

259

Finally, Fifer spots a group of people she knows. They

see her and wave.

‘Fifer, where have you been hiding?’ says one boy as we

approach. He’s got dark hair and a nose that looks as if it’s

been broken several times. ‘We were worried something

happened to you.’

Fifer laughs. ‘I’m fine, fine. Just keeping my head down.’

‘Studying, I imagine,’ says another girl, short and blond.

‘How is it coming along? He as tough as he seems?’

asks a plump, brown-haired girl. She looks at Fifer

with admiration.

‘Is he well?’ asks another boy. ‘We heard rumours he

was sick—’

Fifer grabs my arm and pulls me next to her. ‘I haven’t

introduced my…friend.’ She nearly chokes on the word.

‘This is Elizabeth.’ She proceeds to tell them a story that

paints me out to be some kind of nitwit: too stupid to

know I was a witch until recently, too foolish to hide it

once I did. The only truth she does tell them is that I came

from Upminster, where apparently I spent my time

wandering the streets like an idiot magical vagrant until

Nicholas came along and rescued me.

They look at me with sympathy.

‘We’re so glad he found you,’ says the blond girl, Lark.

‘Imagine if you’d been caught! I hear the burnings are

getting worse—’

‘And all those rebellions,’ adds Bram, the boy with the

260

crooked nose. ‘Just adding fuel to the fire, so to speak.’

Another girl, who has been glaring at Fifer ever

since we walked up, breaks in.

‘Where’s John?’ she demands.

‘Hello to you, too, Chime.’ Fifer gives her a cool

look. ‘He couldn’t make it this year. He’s attending to

some patients.’

A shadow crosses the girl’s face, then she smiles. ‘That

sounds just like him. So responsible! Well, that’s too bad.

We had such a wonderful time together last year.’

I look at her. She’s tall and pretty, with long, straight

black hair and big blue eyes. Tall enough that she wouldn’t

have to stand on her toes if she wanted to kiss him. I push

the thought away immediately.

‘I’ve got a letter for him,’ Chime continues. ‘Would you

mind passing it on?’ She pulls out a carefully folded piece of

paper and hands it to Fifer. It’s got a bright red wax seal on

it in the shape of a heart. Ugh.

‘A letter?’ Fifer holds it gingerly between her thumb and

index finger, as if it were a dead rat.

‘Yes. We’ve been writing to each other since last year!

Didn’t he tell you?’

Fifer raises her eyebrows.

‘No? Well, John never was one to kiss and tell. As I say,

very responsible!’

I’ve got half a mind to grab a fistful of that black

hair, drag her into the woods, and cram that letter down

261

her throat, but then Fifer speaks.

‘Oh, Chime. I can’t believe John didn’t tell you. Well, so

much has been going on, all the preparations. It’s been so

whirlwind…but then, that’s what makes it so romantic!’

She looks at me, a gleam in her eyes. ‘Go on, tell her

the news!’

I look at her blankly. Surely she doesn’t want me to talk?

Especially when I have no idea what she’s talking about?

‘Oh, Elizabeth,’ Fifer says. ‘You know I’m talking about

you and John getting married!’

My mouth drops open. It feels as if a thousand of those

bright blue butterflies have flown down my throat and into

my stomach, beating their wings inside. Lark and Reverie

shriek with glee and start hugging me.

Chime looks at me with undisguised hatred. ‘I don’t

believe it.’

‘No? Elizabeth, show her the ring!’ Fifer grabs my hand

and shoves it in her face.

Chime reaches over and snatches that hateful note out of

Fifer’s hand and stomps off. Lark and Reverie besiege us

with questions.

‘When is the wedding?’

‘We’ll be invited, won’t we?’

‘I can’t give away all the secrets!’ Fifer laughs. ‘I promise,

you’ll all know soon enough. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I

want to introduce Elizabeth to some more people!’

Fifer loops her arm through mine and leads me away.

262

‘Ugh, I hate that girl,’ she barks once we’re out of earshot.

‘I saw her and John together last year, but I didn’t know

they’d been writing. And all year, too.’ Fifer shudders, then

bursts out laughing. ‘I can’t believe I told her John was

getting married. It was the ring that gave me the idea. He’s

going to kill me when he finds out! Serves him right, though,

for not telling me about her.’

‘What are you going to tell them when there’s

no wedding?’

Fifer stops laughing, then pushes me away as if she’d

forgotten who she was talking to.

‘Never you mind. Besides, if you don’t find that tablet,

I’m going to have bigger problems than a fake wedding.’

She turns away from me. ‘Where’d Schuyler go?’

We see him standing by the lake talking to the nymphs,

who are naked save for a piece of fabric tied strategically

around their hips. They giggle and toss their hair at him.

‘I swear, I can’t leave him alone for a minute!’ Fifer

stomps off towards him. Schuyler sees her coming and

breaks away.

‘Why are you talking to them?’ Fifer demands.

‘What, can’t I?’

‘Why do the girls you talk to always have to be naked?’

‘They’re not always. You aren’t.’

‘Not today!’

‘Fifer, I was simply admiring their—’

‘Don’t say it!’

263

‘Decorations. I was going to say decorations.’

They carry on arguing. I stand there, fidgeting and

waiting for them to stop when Bram and another boy walk

up. They’re both carrying cups of something giving off

purple steam.

‘They’re at it again, eh?’ Bram laughs. ‘You might be

here for a while. I figured you might need a drink.’ He

hands me a cup.

‘Thank you.’ I take a tentative sip.

‘What does it taste like?’ Bram’s friend asks eagerly.

I stop drinking immediately. ‘Why, what is it?’

Bram laughs. ‘Relax. He just means it tastes different to

everyone. It’s supposed to be the essence of who or what

you want the most. Mine, for example, tastes like ginger.’

I notice his eyes flick to Fifer as he says this.

‘What is it, some sort of love potion?’ I peer inside

the cup.

‘More like a truth potion. The fun part is figuring out the

truth.’ They both drink deeply. ‘Careful, though. It’s strong

stuff and a little goes a long way.’

I shrug. I know a thing or two about strong drinks. I’ve

been drinking Joe’s ale since I was eleven. But a truth

potion? I’d just as soon drink poison. Even still, I take

another sip just to be polite.

‘Congratulations on your wedding,’ Bram says, and the