Page 18 of Dead Serious Halloween Special

“Oh, sure,” Sam says. “I’ll just pop home and grab my magic carpet. It’s a nippy little three-seater and gets great mileage.”

“As fun as that would be”—Nick grins—“I was actually thinking about the wishing tree I passed just back there.”

“A wishing tree?” I repeat.

“Yep. I thought I recognised it when I ran past, but I couldn’t place it until you mentioned fairy tales. It was in a story Mum used to read me when I was little. If magic is real tonight, then wouldn’t it stand to reason that the wishing tree would actually grant wishes? So all we’d have to do is wish for it to take us to the bookshop.”

“Clever kid,” Sam murmurs.

“Take us to the wishing tree.” I pause. “Wow, that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say with a straight face.”

Nick chuckles and sets off at a fast pace, Sam and I keeping up right behind him. After a few minutes, we round a corner, and sure enough, there, in the middle of the bus lane and surrounded by a river of moss, is the most stunning tree I’ve ever seen. Its trunk and elegantly twisted branches are pure gold, and its lush canopy of leaves is a deep magenta.

“Wow,” Sam whispers beside me.

“Come on.” Nick marches up to the tree and we follow, our feet sinking into thesoft cushion of moss. “I’ll do the wishing so the wires don’t get crossed. Each of you put a hand on one of my shoulders and don’t let go.”

“Okay, Nick. This is your show.” I take a deep breath and lay my palm on his right shoulder while Sam lays a hand on his left.

“I wish for us to be taken to the bookshop,” he says loud and clear.

It happens so fast; everything dissolves around us and it feels like I’ve been yanked off my feet. There’s a brief sensation of falling before I hit a hard surfacewith a pained groan, then two more bodies fall on top of me.

For a second, I lie still, trying to catch my breath after taking an elbow to my ribs and a knee to my groin. Eventually, we allroll away, disentangling ourselves from each other. I look up and recognise the occult bookshop. Even though it’s Harrison’s place and has been for months,I still think of it as Viv’s,and it always makes me feel a little sad.

“Well, we made it, I guess.” Nick pushes himself up.

“Take us to the bookshop,” Sam mutters. “Lucky we didn’t end up in Waterstones.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Nick glances around the deserted shop. “Where is everyone?” he wonders aloud, and I haul my aching body off the floor.

I glance around and my worry ratchets up into the stratosphere. Thepartyseems to be over. Decorations have been torn apart, some of the fairy lights have been ripped down and dangle aimlessly, and the long table which had held finger foods has been overturned.

“Oh my god,” Sam gasps. He rushes across the room. It’s only then I see a lone black-clad figure lying unconscious on the floor.

“It’s Chan!”Nick shouts as he joins Sam and dropsto his knees, reaching for Chan’s throat to find a pulse. “He’s alive.”

I hurry closer, watching anxiously as my nephew peels back Chan’s eyelids to check… I don’t know what they’re teaching him at nursing school. To check his pupils, I think?

“He doesn’t seem to be injured.” Nick frowns. “Chan?” He taps Chan’s facegently, and when that doesn’t work, he pushes his knuckles into Chan’s breastbone. “Chan? Open your eyes.”

Nothing.

“Pick up that table,” Nick says, easily lifting Chan’s petite form into his arms.

Sam and I both set the snacks table back on its feet, and Nick gently lays Chan down.

“What happened?” a voice interrupts, and I look up to see Harrison hurry into the room, clutching an old leatherbound book to his chest. A woman follows behind him, and when heshifts, I get a better look. With a jolt, I recognise Olivia, the witch who’d helped with the whole demon crisis.

“Prickles,” Sam breathes in relief when he sees Harrison. “You’re okay?”

“What happened?” he repeats, looking confused. “Where is everyone and what happened to Chan?”

“We were about to ask you the same thing,” I say.

“What’s going on?” A deep, authoritative voice cuts through our conversation, and I shift my gaze to where Death has appeared. He immediately moves to Chan’s side, his eyes scanning Chan’s unresponsive form. Touching his face tenderly, Death leans in and inhales slowly.

“Fae magic,” he growls. “A sleeping curse.”