Huge thanks to the patience of those who've managed to stay with this story. Nearly there now.
"Miss Hyssop." Mildred spoke up nervously and watched as sparks of energy danced around the elderly inspector. "You can't let it do this. Please Miss, you have to stop it."
Verna arched an eyebrow "Do I?" she asked, amusement plain in her tone. "Do I really?"
Mildred nodded. "It won't keep its promise to you.... I think deep down you know that too."
"Don't presume to know what I think," Verna told her testily.
"I'm sorry," Mildred apologised immediately. "It's just I don't think that you really want to be responsible for the deaths of everyone within the school…You do know that that's what's going to happen, don't you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"The entity." Mildred was determined to get through to the Guild inspector before it took over her mind completely. "All it wants to do is feed on magic; it will take everything from you and from Miss Hardbroom, and then it will feast on us."
Verna shook her head. "You are the one who misunderstands its intentions," she explained as though she were speaking to a small child. "Whilst it's true that the entity needs magic to survive, it doesn't have to kill to do that."
"So what's it doing to Miss Hardbroom?" Mildred pushed the question.
Verna shook her head sadly. "Constance doesn't understand it," she exclaimed. "The entity has explained it all to me. She is trying to fight it and so it has to keep her subdued to keep the rest of us safe."
"It said that?" Mildred questioned.
Verna nodded.
"Then it's lying to you," Mildred retorted. "Miss Spellbinder cast some sort of spell prevention upon Miss Hardbroom. There was nothing she could do to fight against it, even if she wanted to."
Verna shook her head. "That's just not possible. The entity wouldn't lie to me."
"It's the truth," Mildred pleaded with her. "It's killing her to take her magic. When it's done with her it will do the same to us and then eventually to you."
Verna looked at the earnest expression on the young witch's face and something about the girl reminded her of when she was that age; reminded her of a time when she thought that she could change the world, could make anything happen if she tried hard enough. She'd learnt the hard way that the world wasn't that simple
She followed the gaze of the young witch and was slightly surprised to find that she was checking out the status of her potions teacher. From what she'd learnt about the relationship between staff and pupils at the school; this was one scenario she hadn't envisaged.
"What do you care for the health of Constance Hardbroom?" she found herself asking.
Mildred looked at her uncomprehendingly.
"She saved the life of everyone in the school from the entity. She may be a little on the scary side but I wouldn't wish anything bad to happen to her."
Verna tilted her head to one side. "The entity would never harm anyone."
Mildred shook her head. "You're wrong," she said firmly. "When it was here before, it offered Miss Hardbroom power and she turned it down… and then it tried to kill her."
Verna shook her head. "She tried to attack it and it was forced to defend itself."
Mildred closed her eyes as her heart sank.
"Don't listen to it," she implored. "Please Miss Hyssop, don't listen to it."
Verna turned her attention to Constance who was standing motionless, like a statue, and for the first time there was a spark of doubt in her mind. The entity had told her that Constance was trouble and that it was keeping her subdued to ensure the safety of everyone else. It had told her that Constance didn't understand its true nature and would only try to destroy the work that it was doing.
If that was the case, Verna wondered why the witch had been there at her shoulder earlier on. The entity had told her that she wasn't alone; had told her that there was someone else who understood. She was certain that the entity had been referring to Constance. She wondered just what had happened to change that.
She shuddered as she felt the entity's presence in her head; it ghosted in as though sensing that she was beginning to have doubts.
'Don't listen to the young witch,' the velvety soft voice in her mind told her. 'Don't listen to the girl; she is another unbeliever.'
High up in the rafters energy spun and wound itself together. It had to stop the young witch from putting ideas in the old woman's head.
Mildred heard the crackle of energy in the air before she saw it. Her eyes darted around the hall, looking for the telltale strands of coloured light.
"Miss Hyssop," she called out fearfully. "Please Miss Hyssop, you've got to believe that I'm telling the truth. If you don't believe me, then listen to Miss Hardbroom."
Strands of bright light burst from out of the shadows, twisting and turning as they sped in her direction.
"Miss Hyssop," she called out nervously. "Please Miss Hyssop."
Verna spotted the approaching strands of the entity and moved to stand in front of Mildred.
"No," she told it firmly. "No-one is to be hurt. You promised."
The energy spat and hissed and voiced its obvious displeasure, but still it held back and the strands broke apart and disappeared into the air.
Verna cast another glance at Constance and came to a decision. She wanted to decide for herself the sort of threat that the potions teacher posed. She closed her eyes and called to mind the magic suppression spell that she'd been taught so many years before. She was surprised at the swiftness of her memory. Usually it took her a good few moments to remember even the simplest of incantations. The words of the spell tumbled from her lips without her having to even think about it - there were definite advantages to letting the entity into her life.
In the shadows, the entity bristled as it realised what Verna was doing. When it had approached her, it had been convinced that it could bend her to its will. It hadn't envisaged any interference from outside. It crackled angrily. Whatever happened, the unbelievers had to be stopped.
Verna turned her attention to Constance, watching as the tall witch staggered and struggled to regain her senses, willing her to hurry up.
"I need to know," Verna called out across the room. "I need to know what it did last time."
She cast her eyes towards the ceiling, watching as the strands of energy swarmed and swirled angrily above her. Although they weren't talking to her, it was obvious that they were gathering their strength together.
"I need to know," she called again, her voice growing in strength, feeling the way that the magic was shifting inside of her.
Constance blinked, once again trying to cope with the sudden intrusion of light and sound. As her eyes found focus, she could make out two figures standing at the other end of the hall. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she realised that one of those figures was none other than Mildred Hubble.
She shook the surprise out of her head as she heard the urgent tones of Verna demanding an answer. She automatically flexed her fingers and was surprised to feel the familiar rush of magic.... It was there...where it belonged...at the very tips of her fingers.
She glanced again in Verna's direction and read the confusion on the woman's face. She had to have lifted the suppression spell; she was at a loss to explain otherwise how her magic had returned.
"There isn't time for this," Verna yelled above the slowing increasing sound of magic swirling around them. "It knows what I've done and it's not happy. I just need to know from you...what did it do last time?"
Constance opened her mouth to reply but was hit by a wave of magic. It raced through her; tearing at her nerve endings and pushing through her memories with the force of a hurricane. She clutched at her head with her hands and struggled to find her voice.
"Having power doesn't mean you can abuse it in this way," she yelled at Verna, knowing instinctively that the older witch was the source of the pain.
"I'm sorry," came the reply, and almost immediately the magic dropped away.
Constance raised her head and glared at Verna.
"I would have told you," she hissed. "There was no need for that."
"We are running out of time," Verna answered by way of an apology. "There isn't the time for niceties."
Constance glared at her, but said nothing.
"Miss Hyssop," Verna felt a tug on her sleeve and turned her head to see Mildred nervously pointing towards the strands of magic that were spiralling around the walls of the Great Hall. "You have to stop it Miss."
Verna took a step back as the entity made another circuit around the room, gathering in size as it did so. She was finally beginning to realise that Mildred might be right. She'd seen the way that it had tried to attack the young witch and she now began to seriously doubt the promises it had made.
She closed her eyes and called upon it, trying not to flinch as it ghosted into her mind and turned her eyes into pools of blackness.
'What do you want?' it demanded to know; its earlier patient, sweet, tones forgotten. 'Why are you acting against our wishes?'
"You told me that no-one else would be hurt," she reminded it. "You told me that all you wanted was a chance to exist in this world." She glanced in Constance's direction. "I'm beginning to see that things aren't quite the way that you paint them. You said that you wouldn't hurt anyone."
She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as the voice in her head let out a long chuckle.
'Is that what I said?' it queried. 'Is that what I promised?'
"Yes," Verna told it firmly. "You said that no harm would come to any of the girls; you said that you just wanted the chance to live and to breathe again."
'Maybe I did say that,' it admitted. 'Maybe that was once enough for me…but not now. Now I have the chance to be everywhere, to taste everything, to be everything.'
"Stop it," Verna cried out as she felt the energy surge through her; her joints aching with the feel of a power that she had long ago relinquished.
"Stop!" it laughed, finally giving voice to its thoughts as it swirled back into human shape. "I've no intention of stopping. Not now, not ever."
Verna jerked her head back as the entity pulled away from her and rose, twisting and turning into the air, still maintaining its human shape.
In that moment she saw everything clearly, saw the frightened face of the young witch in front of her and the resolute expression on the face of the potions teacher. She knew in that moment that she had made a dreadful mistake in dealing with the entity.
"I m taking back my offer," she yelled into the air. "I'm taking back everything."
The entity laughed as it swept back down to earth. "You think that you have a choice in the matter... how quaint."
It whirled towards the two witches. "I may have needed you to gather strength, but it looks as though another soul has just made herself available." The entity fixed its attention upon Mildred. "One that is going to be infinitely easier to control."
"I think not," came a calm voice from behind.
The entity yelled in pain as it was hit by a blast of concentrated magic. The magic engulfed it, causing the entity to twist and unravel as it struggled to fight back against it.
"If you are hoping that Mildred Hubble will prove to be a satisfactory vessel, I'm afraid that you are going to be very disappointed," Constance continued as she launched another attack upon the reeling shape. "She is the most disorganised individual I have ever come across. If you are looking for stability in your life you are most definitely knocking on the wrong door."
The entity called more of itself down from the ceiling and struggled to regain its shape.
"The door," Constance yelled to Mildred and Verna. "I suggest that you make use of it."
Verna glanced at the way that the entity was quickly reforming and knew that there was little time. It appeared to be pulling itself together for a full on assault.
"We will have a vessel," the entity crackled as it pulled itself back into human form.
It drew its strength together and launched a bolt of magic in Mildred's direction. It allowed an expression of pleasure to form on its face as it saw the fear that lit up the young witches face. There was no time for the witch to react or get out of the path of the oncoming magic.
The entity stumbled as it felt something else pull at it. It roared in anger as the bolt of magic fizzed past the young witch and cannoned into the wall.
It turned, swirling angrily as it sought out the source of the interference.
"You," it snarled at Constance, finally identifying where the disturbance had originated.
"Me," Constance replied simply and closed her eyes, reaching out to find the stands of the entity that were still residing within her. She concentrated all her efforts on them; feeling the magic in the air and using it to pull apart the shape that the entity had formed for itself.
"No," the entity shrieked as it felt its grip falter, losing its human form and disseminating back into formless strands.
Constance opened her eyes and glanced at Mildred. "I'll not tell you again," she warned. "Door!"
She was going to add something else to the word, but the entity chose that moment to launch its counter attack. She knew that it would be coming, but she had underestimated the power that it could generate.
It slammed into her, knocking her from her feet and pushing her back against the far wall of the Great Hall. She felt the air being forced from her lungs as the entity relentlessly pushed home its advantage. She struggled for breath, but the air in front of her was filled with the magic of the entity. Her vision tunnelled and she felt the corners of her world begin to slip away.
"We have to get out of here," Verna grabbed hold of the young witch's hands. "We have to get out of here now."
She was surprised when the young girl shook her head.
"We can't just go," she implored. "We have to stop it somehow."
Verna shook her head. "I can't stop it," she yelled above the roar of the magic that was now swirling and whirling around their heads.
"You have to," Mildred implored the elderly witch. "You're the only one who can."
Verna shook her head. "It's too powerful for me to take on by myself." She looked around and her eyes fell upon the now prostrate form of Constance. She grabbed hold of Mildred's arm. "I have an idea." she shouted. "Will you help me?"
Mildred fought against the powerful gusts of raw magic that were swirling through the air and managed to make eye contact with Verna. She took in the desperation on the woman's face and decided that she could trust her.
"What do you want me to do?" she yelled.
"Get ready to get out of here when I give the word."
"What are you going to do?" Mildred wanted to know.
Verna shook her head. "It's not for you to worry about."
"I can't just leave you here."
"You have to," Verna implored. "If you stay it will use you against me." She placed her hands on Mildred's shoulders. "Please, just trust me."
Mildred opened her mouth to argue but promptly closed it again as the pressure around her seemed to change. She closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to shift the uncomfortable feeling in her head. Her ears popped loudly and she opened her eyes again to find herself staring at the incredulous expressions on the faces of those around her.
"Mildred Hubble," Miss Cackle finally found the words. "What on earth are you doing here?"
Mildred looked around, trying to understand what had just happened. She was no longer in the middle of the Great Hall with Miss Hyssop; she was standing in the corridor in front of Miss Cackle, Miss Drill and Miss Spellbinder...wandering if her face was mirroring the look of complete bemusement that was currently plastered on theirs.
Verna fought her way across the hall, trying to avoid the hungry strands of multicoloured magic that now snapped and snarled at her.
She crouched down next to the slumped and motionless figure of Constance and grabbed her wrist, checking for a pulse.
Closing her eyes and fighting to maintain a level of concentration, she recalled a spell that she had been taught a lifetime before. She wasn't sure that it would do any good, but she knew that she had to try, she knew that she had to try and do something to put things right.
She muttered the words beneath her breath and waited to see if there was any change in the other witch's status.
"Miss Hardbroom?" There was no reaction. "Constance," she shouted louder; fighting against the deafening noise that the magic was now making in the air. She needed the other witch to be awake and alert if her plan was going to work.
Constance blinked and then screwed her eyes shut against the intensity of the light that assailed her senses. She struggled to understand the information that was trying to flood into her brain; after the heavy fog-like existence she had endured, the world now seemed to bombard her senses with more information than she could possibly handle. Light and sound assaulted her and she wanted nothing more than to retreat back to the safety and quiet of the darkness.
There was persistence in the voice at her elbow and something inside of her told her that she had to listen. She forced her eyes open and reached out to hear the words that were being spoken.
The entity swirled and whirled above the heads of the two witches, not understanding how its hold over the tall witch had been lost. Angered, it pushed out again, seeking its way back into her mind. Where there had been a clear way through, there was now a hastily erected barrier. Thwarted, it searched around, seeking out another way to re-establish control.
"Come on," Verna urged Constance. "We don't have much time."
Constance arched an eyebrow. "Things seem to have moved on," she noted.
"Let's just concentrate on getting out of here," Verna replied testily. "I'm sure the recriminations can wait till later." She held out a hand. "Are you going to help me?"
Meeting her gaze for a few moments, Constance finally reached forward and accepted the proffered hand.
She never had the chance to hear what Verna was about to say as the entity chose that precise moment to launch an attack against her.
Constance clasped both hands to her head as she felt the entity push home its attack. It had sensed her returning strength and was doing all it could to put her out of action.
"There isn't much time," she told Verna simply. "It's too strong."
Verna shook her head. "You have to hold it off Constance; you have to do this."
"We need to do more than hold it off," Constance told Verna sharply, despite the pain.
"Leave that to me."
"You're not strong enough," she warned. "Let me do this."
Verna gave Constance a watery smile. "This is my fight. I'm sorry that this is going to hurt, but I need the entity to believe that you are the main threat."
"What?" Constance shouted, not certain that she had correctly heard what Verna was saying above the buzz of energy that was thrumming in her head.
She watched, uncomprehendingly as Verna stepped away from her side and raised her arms to the heavens.
"She is trying to attack you," she heard Verna shout out to the strands of energy that were swirling round above their heads. "She's plotting against you and she thinks that she has the strength to beat you."
"What are you doing?" Constance struggled to her feet and took an unsteady pace across the room trying to stop Verna from continuing. She had not managed more than a handful of paces when the entity appeared between her and Verna, the tendrils of magic spitting and writhing as they were forced into a human shape.
The entity selected a form for itself in a split second and, with a speed that was impossible to follow, it changed its appearance. Constance found herself glaring at a glowing and crackling version of Mildred Hubble.
"You seek to stop me?" it queried. "I thought we had you safely locked away in your own dark depressed little mind." It swirled around her, losing and re-forming its human shape fluidly. "How did you manage to break free of the spell?" It hissed. "Still, you are of little consequence now."
"I wouldn't bank on it," Verna shouted, trying to draw its attention. "She's been hiding her strength from you. All this time, she has been hiding her real power from you."
The entity spun to face the elder witch, tendrils of red magic crackling with raw energy.
"What do you mean? I know this witch's brain. I know the power she has."
Verna shook her head smugly. "There is more to this witch than meets the eye. Did you learn so little from your last encounter with her? Are you really still that naïve when it comes to the power of Witches?"
The entity held Verna's gaze for a moment, looking at the washed out blue eyes that stared firmly back at it. It seemed uncertain for a moment and then raised its arms to the multicoloured streams of magic that were racing across the ceiling of the Great Hall.
"Come," it yelled.
Constance drew all her strength together and tried to prepare for the onslaught that she sensed was coming. What hit her was excruciating; it was as though every nerve-ending, every fibre of her being was on fire. The energy attacked her from all sides and she knew that there was no way she could stand against it.
Verna stood and calmly watched as the hundreds of strands of crackling energy swarmed around Constance. She watched as they jostled for position; each one looking for an opening where it could launch an attack. She closed her eyes; this was the moment she had been waiting for. She took a deep breath and concentrated on forming the correct spell; there was only a limited window of opportunity and she didn't want to think of what would happen to Constance if she was to fail.
Constance felt her resistance crumble as the entity pushed home another attack. She felt the magic as it raced through her; felt its hunger and knew that there was little time left.
Verna spread her arms wide and released the magic that she had been building up inside. The words of her spell grew louder and louder until they began to fill the air; magic causing the words to repeat themselves and grow louder into a crescendo of noise that caused the very foundations of the castle to shudder.
The entity screamed in anger as it suddenly felt itself under attack. It ignored the powder-fine dust that was now beginning to fall from the ceiling as it felt its own strength being used against it.
"No," it shrieked as strands of itself automatically attacked the source of the disturbance. As more strands followed, trying to stop the pain that was eating away at it, the entity felt itself being pulled towards the centre of the room and the old woman.
"We are attacking ourselves," it cried out. "We must stop."
The entity screamed in pain as it felt itself being torn apart; energy rushing at great speed towards the frail looking witch who stood, with arms held aloft, in the centre of the hall. She was summoning it, but was using its own power to do so. She was forcing it into a container that couldn't hope to hold it.
Constance forced her eyes to remain open as she watched the multi-coloured strands of energy race across the room, hundreds upon hundreds of them, twisting and turning around each other, jostling for position.
She felt the pain lessen as the attack let up and the focus of the strands was shifted.
The words of the spell were still echoing around the walls of the hall, the strands of the entity providing the energy to keep it going. Constance heard the words and realised just what Verna was trying to accomplish.
"You don't have to do this," she hissed through gritted teeth. "There are other ways of stopping it."
"I'm sorry," Verna called out weakly, as she felt her strength ebbing. "I needed a distraction and I couldn't think of anything the entity would enjoy more than a good meal."
"Hold on," Constance managed to form the words and tried to move but found that her legs refused to obey her.
"This is the way it should be," Verna told her calmly as the remaining strands of magic were drawn towards her.
"No…" Constance tried to protest but darkness filled her vision and she was forced to give in to her body's exhaustion.
Verna turned her attention back to the remaining energy. She could already feel the effect of trying to contain the magic that was flowing through her; she could feel it as it searched fruitlessly for some way of escape. She had it trapped, but she knew that she couldn't hope to hold it.
The corridor outside of the Great Hall was slowly filling up with pupils. In the last few minutes the girls had started to gather in the corridors. None of them could explain what had been happening to them during the last couple of hours, but all had been left with the definite feeling that something was very wrong.
Fenny and Gris had been at the head of the first party to make it to the corridor leading to the Great Hall, and Miss Cackle had immediately put the two 3rd years in charge of keeping order.
The level of chatter in the corridor had been growing but it began to fade away as the girls watched mesmerised as the strands of energy that had been arcing across the door seemed to pulse and lose a degree of their brilliance.
Miss Cackle shuddered and pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. "What on Earth is going on in there?"
Imogen watched as the heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall heaved and shuddered as though some immense force were pushing against them.
"Do you think we ought to retire to a safe distance?" Hortense suggested; a quaver obvious in her voice.
"This is my school and I'm not leaving it," Amelia replied firmly.
"Not even when it's falling around your ears?"
"Especially not then!"
Without warning, the doors to the Great Hall flew open and the girls let out an involuntary squeal of alarm as a powerful gust of wind whipped through the corridors, as though trying to escape the confines of the castle.
The pupils were pressed back against the walls by the force of the blast, their hair sweeping out behind them as it rushed past them on its way through the school.
Despite Miss Cackle's urgings to remain where they were, as soon as the gust of wind petered out there was an immediate stampede for the doorway; everyone wanting to see what the outcome had been.
The body of girls all stopped as one as they reached the doorway and a hushed silence fell upon the group.
Miss Cackle made her way to the front of the party, Miss Drill at her shoulder.
The air inside the Great Hall was impossibly still. It was as though someone had been through the room and systematically removed every trace of life from it. A few tattered strands of bunting still hung from the walls, but there was no longer a draught causing them to flutter pathetically at regular intervals. They hung, limp and lifeless against the battered walls.
"Miss Hyssop!" Imogen was the first to find her voice and break the silent sterile atmosphere, as she spotted the prone figure of the elderly witch in the middle of the hall. She made to take a pace forward but Miss Cackle held her back.
"Fenella, Griselda, get all the girls together and get them out into the courtyard," Miss Cackle ordered sharply. "I don't want anyone coming in here until I say so."
"Yes Miss," Griselda replied quietly, and with Fenella's help, ushered the unresisting party of girls away. Only Mildred hung back, not wanting to leave until she knew what had happened.
"We have to proceed carefully," Amelia warned Imogen. "We have to make sure that it really has gone this time."
"What do you suggest we do?"
"Tread carefully!"
Rolling her eyes and wishing that Miss Cackle's words had been a little more reassuring, Imogen ventured into the room, her eyes darting from side to side looking out for anything nasty that might still be lurking in the darkness.
She heard a sharp intake of breath from Amelia and turned to see what had caught her attention.
Moments later her eyes took in the still form of Constance Hardbroom. Imogen froze in place and hoped that she was wrong; hoped that nothing had happened to either witch. She had heard the unearthly shriek from within the hall and knew deep inside that it meant that one of the two were no more; she didn't want to face finding out who it was who had died.