A/N: So this chapter takes place directly after chapter ten but it's from Constance's perspective. Hope you enjoy!
Constance folded her arms and with a puff of smoke she reappeared in the woods beyond the castle grounds. She walked between the trees, feeling the crunching of twigs beneath her boot-clad feet as she ran her fingers across moss-covered bark, wanting to feel something. The news that had been relayed to her during the headmistress' outburst had made her numb.
She was never going to be deputy...
Amelia's words rang in her ears like church bells – harsh and unforgiving, all of the things Amelia wasn't. She had been forward, abrasive... everything a headmistress should have been. For a fraction of a moment Amelia Cackle had proven herself to be the leader that the school deserved, the deputy headmistress that Constance wanted to be. Now she was out of the running for that. There would be a stranger walking into the office on a morning, a stranger delivering speeches alongside Amelia during the morning assembly – a woman without a face but Constance hated her anyway. That job was meant to be hers. Was.
She wondered if perhaps Amelia had been considering her for the role before their argument in the staff room. Maybe she had been leading her down the garden path, giving her false hope of a promotion, without any intention of actually making Constance her second-in-command. This seemed more likely, she was never destined for happiness or greatness or to be in any position of power.
Constance kept walking, walking until she reached the edge of the forest and the path leading to the village of Old Noxby. There was no destination, she just wanted to get away, to escape. She had always wanted to escape – to escape her father, to escape Broomhead... Now she was escaping Amelia - the one person she had never imagined wishing to escape from.
The wind struck her face like a cannon blast of ice as she stepped out of the protective veil of woodland, walking down the familiar path towards the cottages. Her cottage sat just at the middle of the terrace. It wasn't hers any more but a part of her still felt like it was.
Constance walked past it, lingering for a moment. The garden had been dug up and replaced with a patio, the buddleia around the front of the house cut back. It was unrecognisable. It was cold, heartless... Not the home that Constance remembered.
In the window sat a little tabby cat, blinking slowly at her as she walked away, tears prickling her eyes.
I won't cry, I will not cry, she told herself.
For what felt like an age she just did loops around the village, walking backwards and forwards, down one side of the street and up the other. Thoughts clouded her mind, feelings that she hadn't felt in so long; worthlessness, fear... She had always felt lonely. She could have been in a room full of people and still felt lonely. Constance knew she would never fit in, no matter how hard she tried. It got to a point where she was just too tired to keep trying.
Patricia was just too boisterous for her, Davina was too eccentric, Edith was kind but she was fickle. Amelia was the only person Constance felt like she had a connection with but... she was wrong.
She stopped for a moment just outside the newsagents and sat down on a rusty bench. Her legs were shaking, her hands sweating. Had she not sat down she may have just burst into tears. Time to think was dangerous, she was better off burying her head in the sand and pretending that everything was okay, putting on the chain-mail armour that she wore everyday. It was too late now. She was submerged in her own thoughts, thoughts of losing what she and Amelia had built; the trust, the friendship, the love Constance had for this wonderful woman who had taken her under her wing and had protected her when life seemed so bleak. When the imminent threat of self destruction seemed so great Amelia had been there to stop her from pressing the red button that would end it all. Now that red button seemed so tempting, so welcoming, like an old friend waiting for her with open arms.
No..., Constance told herself, stop thinking like that.
Constance never knew her mother, Amelia had never had children... They found each other in a dark period in both of their lives and somehow they helped one another recover. At least that's how Constance saw it. Now however she was pushing her away and she had pushed her so far that she was now, once again, alone.
Alone.
Something Constance had always felt, in all her years on planet Earth, she had only ever felt truly in company when she and Amelia were together. No amount of fair-weathered friends would be able to substitute the relationship that she had built up with the headmistress over these twelve years. No amount of people beforehand, offering her the hand of friendship, could suffice. From a young age she had always wished to isolate herself and for so long she had resisted. Now she was receding back into her shell where she belonged; out of sight, out of mind, out of the way.
"Constance!" A voice called down the bank towards her.
She looked up, seeing a mass of floating shawls and skirts waving at her. She closed her eyes and sighed. The mass of clothing finally stopped running and halted, panting beside her.
"Can I sit down?" Asked Edith, "That is one steep hill."
Constance nodded, not saying a word as Edith sat down with a groan.
"That feels better," She sighed, "You know, being five months pregnant does come with its perks but honestly I think I may have nearly given myself black eyes going down that bank." She stroked her nearly flat stomach tenderly and with a little chuckle to herself, continued, "It's a shame I'm not showing more. Apparently the baby is laying quite far back. It'll need a lounge chair if it lays any further back... What brings you out here anyway?" She asked, changing the topic.
Constance snorted, "It's quite clear, Edith, why I'm sat on my own away from the school and should I be under the impression that you have been sent out here to fetch me back? I'm not wanted at that school, so I'm staying away."
Edith smiled sweetly, "I feel like we've had this conversation before," She tucked a strand of her long, blonde hair behind her ear, "So we won't cover old ground. The situation with Davina, do you mind if I voice my opinion on this?" Constance shook her head, sighing, "Okay. I think Davina is just very clumsy, she can't help it. Fair enough she did damage school property bur it could have been worse. She could have been injured or worse. It was quite funny what happened, but someone could have been seriously hurt-"
"That's the point I was trying to make to-"
Edith shushed her, "The fact, however, is that no one was hurt were they? We can learn from it, put things in place so this never happens again but just look back on the day with fond memories rather than negativity. Come on, Davina stuck in a drum? What's not funny about that?"
Constance ground her teeth, "She's far too eccentric and unprofessional for that school. It will happen again with something else and next time someone will get hurt."
Edith rolled her eyes, "Stop predicting the future. You don't know what's around the corner do you? Well except the chip shop, that's just over there, I think," She pointed in the direction of the infamous chip shop that the students seemed to haunt every night, then seeming unsure of herself she placed her finger at the edge of her lips, seemingly pondering the location of the take-away restaurant, "Come on. I need to get back to the school. The girls have all mysteriously fallen asleep, well all but three."
"Amanda Honeydew and her band of followers?" Constance asked wearily. Edith nodded, "How did I guess? It's probably all the workings of Amanda, slipping the whole school a sleeping draught. I'd like to say she hadn't done it before but I would be lying. Well we shall get back to the school and amend the situation shall we?"
"There's another thing." Edith added, "They said it wasn't a potion."
Constance furrowed her eyebrows, "Not a potion? Well what else could it possibly be?"
"A spell... I think she said the Vodka Morrigan... Something like that. I don't know what that is. What is it?"
"The Voca Morriganus? It's a summoning spell. We need to get back to the school now!" Constance cried frantically. "You won't be able to teleport in your condition will you?" Edith shook her head, "Right," She took a deep, gulping breath, "As quick as we can. Come on."
Edith nodded quickly and, although she struggled, she managed to get to the top of the bank and keep her breath. Constance took long strides back to the castle, Edith had to practically jog to remain by Constance's side.
"What... is... this... thing?!" Edith gasped, trying to keep up with Constance.
"There's no time to explain. We need to get back to the school now. In fact," She turned sharply, making Edith jump out of her skin, "You stay out of the school entirely. We don't know what the curse could do to you and the baby if she was to catch you."
Constance walked away, Edith stood in the middle of the forest staring at her as she walked away.
"I don't care what you say, Constance Hardbroom. I'm coming with you."
Raising an eyebrow at the use of her full name, Constance turned back, "This beast is dangerous. If you get caught by her you could lose the baby."
"Well I'll just have to make sure I don't get caught then." Edith said brightly, "You aren't facing this on your own. You need to have someone by your side. You've been alone for too long."
"How do you-"
"When I was at my old job I was trained to pick up on these things and you scream inferiority complex to me. You think you're worthless, probably because of a bad parental relationship, so you put on this facade of being tough to compensate for that."
Edith had read Constance like a book. She lingered for a moment, her mouth hanging ever so slightly open. Blinking, Constance turned around and headed back to the school, Edith on her tail.
"So what kind of monster does this spell summon?" She asked, still struggling to keep up.
"A rather dangerous one – The Morrigan, you may have heard of her. To mortals she's but a character from Irish myths, to witches however she's a threat. If she sings to a witch she is capable of putting her into an everlasting slumber. The worst part of it, however, is that she is able to shape shift."
Edith looked confused, "Shape shift?"
Constance nodded as they passed through Walker's Gate, "Into a crow. So be careful and watch out for crows in the building. It could be possible that after she left Amanda and her friends that she shifted and sang to the girls in her bird form."
"Crows can't sing."
Just as they reached the heavy wooden front door, Constance turned, "All birds sing, Edith, sometimes however their song isn't always what you expect to hear."
The school was peculiarly quiet when Constance stepped inside. Of course. All of the girls had been put under a sleeping curse, she reminded herself. There were no arguments going on in the corridor, no shrieking laughter. It was quite peaceful actually.
Suddenly, however, from the top of the stairs there was a noise that broke the silence.
"Constance!" It was Amelia. She raced down the stairs and wrapped her arms tightly around Constance. She had not been expecting such a warm welcome after their fall out, "I'm sure Edith has told you what has happened," she said in a hushed voice, "The Morrigan has caught the girls but all of the staff are okay. Patricia was right, you were in the village. I must say I'm relieved Edith convinced you to come back. You're the only person I trust to be powerful enough to defeat this creature." She sighed, her blue eyes pleading, "I am sorry for my outburst."
Constance rolled up her sleeves ever so slightly, "Where was the last place that she was seen?"
Amelia pointed towards the stairs going down to the kitchens, "Please," Amelia grabbed Constance's arm, "Be careful."
With a soft smile, Constance whispered, "Don't worry." And lowering her head and her voice, she added, "And I apologise for being so pushy."
Amelia smiled almost imperceptibly as she stroked Constance's arm, "Please just be careful, both of you."
Edith beamed, "We will be fine. Now, to the kitchens?"
She and Constance tread carefully down the stairs towards the kitchens, being careful not to make too much noise and alert The Morrigan to their presence.
Edith pressed a finger to her lips just as they reached the bottom step and the closed wooden door. Constance, knowing that complete silence would be necessary should they come face to face with the beast, directed her casting fingers at the door which glowed bright blue. Knowing that the silencing charm was working, Constance gently pushed the door open. The hinges didn't creak, the bottom of the door did not scrape across the flagstone floor as the two witches stepped into the kitchen.
Their eyes slowly grew accustomed to the lack of light. The flickering flames crackled and squeaked in the hearth as Constance and Edith stepped into the kitchen and they noticed a cloaked figure standing in front of the table, its face shrouded by its black hood.