Page 27

Chapter 27

It turned out that Frogmatch’s tugging on my shoes during my meeting with Voltaire had been him making art with my boots. He had apparently lost all interest in our chatter and focused instead on my shoelaces. Resting in Rosie’s main apartment, I watched bemused as the imp happily re-worked knots of ever-increasing complexity. I guess everyone needs a hobby.

My stay at Rosie’s was unremarkable. We had wangled a night in the main flat, Bastion and I in one bedroom and Oscar in another. Frogmatch insisted on patrolling the corridors whilst we slept. It seemed ridiculous to me that an eight-inch-tall imp could do anything in a real fight, but I knew better than to say so. Imps can be sensitive, and if I said the wrong thing my bodyguard would become my prankster and tormentor instead. Perhaps Frogmatch could tie any would-be attacker’s shoelaces together .

The main apartment at Rosie’s was far more spacious and opulent than the tiny hovel I’d stayed in last time, though I thought of the place with fondness since my stay there had saved my life. There was plenty of room for us all, even with the addition of pint-sized Frogmatch.

My skin crawls the whole time I am in the Common realm; I miss my magic like it is another limb. Bastion manfully distracted me to the best of his abilities – and the best of his abilities was very, very good.

The next morning I was eager to walk back through the portal, so I hustled downstairs at 6am after untying Frogmatch’s artwork. I stalked through the portal and gave a happy sigh as my magic zinged back. We ate a leisurely breakfast at the café, watching the comings and goings of the Other folk. I nodded to those that I knew; there weren’t many that I did not. I’d made it my business to network with all of the species and to make myself indispensable to them.

With my promise to Shirdal fulfilled, I had another outstanding vow: I had promised Krieg that I would find his mate. I’d told him that I would need time to design and make the potion, but that wasn’t strictly true; I knew full well that Grimmy had such a potion in his pages because, as a teenager I’d been sorely tempted to use it. I hadn’t because it had involved bloodletting, and if Mum had found out she would have been furious. Knowing a little more about Dad and his background, I could understand why. She would have been terrified that I’d slide down the slippery slope to black-witch territory.

I couldn’t recall the full potion but I remembered that most of the ingredients were commonplace. I’d have to ask Grimmy for the details but I knew that I needed some milk thistle and bupleurum, both of which I was fresh out of having used the former in Ria’s potion and the latter in Shirdal’s final-defence potion.

After breakfast, we headed to the car. I opened the door but Frogmatch didn’t hop in. ‘I’m going to follow the vampyr,’ he said firmly, braced for an argument.

‘Which vampyr?’ I asked.

‘Voltaire. He knows more than he’s telling us, Ellie, oath or no.’

‘And what about your tail?’ I asked archly. ‘If he catches you following him, I’ve no doubt he’ll chop it off as punishment.’

‘I won’t be enchanted a second time,’ he groused. ‘He won’t see me coming.’

‘It’s a bad idea,’ I stated firmly.

He grinned impishly at me. ‘I disagree. And unless you really do consider me your slave, I have the free will to determine where I go and what I do.’

My mouth dropped open. ‘Of course I don’t consider you a slave!’

‘Good. Off I go, then. I’ll be in touch.’ His red skin flashed as he scurried away. Try as I might, after a second I could no longer spot him. Vampyrs can phase, darting in one shadow and darting out of another. I had no idea how Frogmatch thought he could possibly find and then keep up with Voltaire.

Sighing, I turned back to the car. ‘The Spice Shoppe, please,’ I instructed Oscar as I slid onto the seat. I’d get all the ingredients that I could; if I needed more, I’d get one of the acolytes to run out for them.

I turned to Bastion. ‘Can you reach out to Krieg? We need an appointment to get his blood for the mate potion.’

He frowned. ‘Won’t it be sufficient if he drops off a vial?’

I shook my head. ‘This is a promise I’ve made. I’m not running the risk that it goes wrong because Krieg doesn’t give me enough blood, or something like that. It needs to be gifted willingly, too. I don’t want someone else drawing it in case Krieg begrudges it. After we’ve been to the shop, we’ll swing by and get the blood. I can knock up the potion, deliver it, and then focus all my energy on this necromancer who keeps pissing me off.’ And killing people.

Bastion pulled out his phone and started dialling while I opened my laptop and logged in remotely to the Coven’s network. I fired off a couple of emails, pleased with how well things were running in the face of so much adversity.

By the time we arrived at The Spice Shoppe, Bastion had secured us an appointment with Krieg. Outside were two men – wizards, I guessed by the way the second one was casually juggling three cans with the IR. A Common realmer would see the man juggling but in reality his hands were still.

Bastion gave the two men the side eye and they bowed respectfully before scuttling back and giving him wide berth. It was weird to see his deadly reputation in action, especially when I knew what a sweetie he was.

I bustled around the shop. It was my happy place; the instant I walked in I was assaulted by an array of scents that took me back to long potion-brewing sessions with Mum. She had always been far more into her runes than her potions, but she’d made sure to encourage my love for them .

We’d come to The Spice Shoppe for as long as I could remember, back when it was owned by Old Man Jones. He’d died when I was young, so I couldn’t remember his full name, but I remembered his smile and his blue twinkling eyes. He’d encouraged my love of potions too, sneaking extra ingredients into my shopping bag.

I wondered if there’d been a Young Jones or a Mrs Jones to mourn him. I’d been sad when he died, though I’d brushed off his death quickly in the way that children do. He’d seemed so old, though with hindsight I realised he was probably only in his sixties. He’d seemed ancient to young me, and now I felt ancient in turn.

I pulled myself out of memory lane and focused on the matter at hand as I zoomed around the store gathering the ingredients I needed. I indulged myself in a few that I didn’t need but I couldn’t quite resist as well. As usual, when I approached the till my shopping basket was overly full.

Henry, the shop assistant, had the triangle of the Other realm on his forehead. Angry red spots were dotted across his cheeks, but despite them he was a handsome lad. I could see why Ria was so taken with him.

‘Hello, Coven Mother,’ he greeted me respectfully. He looked around. Ascertaining that we were alone – bar Bastion – he continued, ‘Have you heard from Ria? I’m getting really worried.’

‘They’re just having an extended holiday,’ I reassured him. ‘Taking an unplugged break.’

‘Ria would never go this long without talking to me.’ He frowned. ‘I’m her soulmate. We’re going to get married.’

Goddess save me from young love. I smiled. ‘I’m sure she’ll be back before we know it,’ I said confidently. ‘She’ll be glad to know she’s missed.’ Like Henry, Ria was tempestuous. In her youth she’d been wildly erratic at times, and she had darkened my office door frequently, for one infraction or another. But as she’d hit her teen years, she had found her stride. She had thankfully matured into the lovely young woman that Henry was currently obsessed with.

‘It’s like my right arm is missing,’ he complained morosely. ‘I’m incomplete without her.’

I pressed my lips together and fixed him with a stare. ‘Henry, nobody needs anybody to complete them. You are a person in your own right. Your love interest doesn’t complete you, they complement you.’

‘I do like being told my hair is nice,’ Henry conceded.

‘Complement, not compliment.’

‘What?’

I shook my head. ‘Never mind. Just ring these through,’ I sighed.

Bastion laughed quietly in my ear. ‘You tried.’

‘More fool me,’ I grumped.

As usual, when my bags were packed, John slid out of his office to greet me. He gave a deferential bow before making a point of looking over my purchases. ‘You have an excellent eye, Coven Mother. You’ve picked out the finest specimens.’

‘As always, there are only the finest specimens to be found here.’

‘You’re too kind, Coven Mother, too kind.’ He bobbed his bow again and touched his hand to his heart.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. ‘Thank you for coming to Edinburgh – for coming to my aid.’

John grew serious and his professional customer-fronting smile faded. ‘It was my honour to come to your assistance. Should you have need of me in the future, I will do it again without hesitation.’

I smiled. ‘Thank you, John, I appreciate that.’

‘Let me help you with your purchases.’ He lifted the box and carried it out to the car. ‘Footwell?’ he asked.

‘Please,’ I confirmed .

I suddenly felt nervous. The last time I’d been here, someone had chucked a fireball at me. My car had been wrecked and Oscar had lain in a pool of his own blood. For a heartbeat, I was in that moment, filled with terror and fear.

John met my eyes. ‘It won’t happen again, Coven Mother,’ he all-but growled fiercely. ‘You have my word. An attack outside my shop! Unthinkable. I’ve hired wizard guards.’ He gestured at the two men loitering by the open door, one of whom was the IR juggler we’d seen earlier.

I raised an eyebrow. I hadn’t seen a request for further employees through the Coven. ‘Paid for by you?’ I queried briskly.

‘Yes, Coven Mother. No need to bother the Coven’s coffers for this.’

My phone blared and an unfamiliar number showed up. I frowned. ‘Excuse me, John.’

‘Of course.’

I swiped to answer the call.