The celebrations in the great hall were drawing to a natural close. Where earlier there had been large groups singing and whirling around to the surprisingly lively tunes Miss Bat had managed to produce from the school organ, there were now much smaller groups and they were mostly slumped in tired heaps around the edges of the room. Some of the younger witches had already drifted away towards their rooms, their own desires to stay up as late as was possible defeated by sheer tiredness and a general overindulgence in sweet foods that weren't usually to be found on the school's menu.
Enid Nightshade watched them stumble out of the room, tripping over their own feet with tiredness and shook her head at their lack of staying power. She was determined to stay up until Miss Hardbroom clapped her hands together and demanded everyone retire for the night. She'd made a pact with Mildred and Maud. They would be the last witches standing. There might be stencilled rolls of honour hung on the walls that boasted of the various academic achievements of past pupils, but there was an equally important honour roll that was scratched into the wood on one of the panels in the broomshed. It detailed those witches who had stayed up until morning after Halloween, who had out lasted their classmates and claimed the honour of being the last to fall. Enid knew she'd never get her name up on one of the stencilled boards, so she'd set her sights on something she was more certain of being able to achieve.
Enid glanced at the offerings that remained and helped herself to another cupcake from the nearest table, trying to ignore the uncomfortable warning lurch from her stomach. It was free food; it was free food that wasn't fruit. She made a half-hearted effort to peel the casing away from the soft sponge and then changed her mind, putting it back down on the plate again letting out a defeated sigh. "Sometimes there is such a thing as too many cakes." She looked immediately towards her two friends, her eyes narrowing. "Tell no-one I said that."
Maud's eyes glanced over the remnants of the Halloween feast that were scattered across the long wooden table next to them. "Not another mouthful," she agreed. Her face lit up moments later as she caught sight of a bowl of jelly snakes. "Well, maybe just one," she admitted as she sidled off towards them.
"She's one of the only girls I know who loves snakes." Enid joked. When Mildred didn't reply, Enid glanced towards her friend. She rolled her eyes as she realised what had caught her attention.
"Stop fangirling and just go and talk to her."
Mildred slapped at Enid's arm by way of a response.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" The reply was fired back quickly enough, but Enid spotted the blush that coloured Mildred's cheeks.
"It's just Esmeralda Hallow for heaven's sake." Enid had told herself that she wasn't about to be impressed by the older girl just because she had somehow managed to regain her power from a founding stone. Yes, it was something that was pretty much unheard of, but that didn't mean she had to be impressed by it. Certainly not in the way that Mildred seemed to be. "You've spoken to her often enough. If you've got something to say, just go over there and say it."
"But that was before…"
Enid sighed again. "Magic is magic Mildred. There's nothing…"
"It's Hubble magic," Mildred cut across her, as she twisted the end of one of her plaits. "Until today I thought I was the only witch in my family, but I'm not."
A frown formed on Enid's face as she struggled to follow Mildred's train of thought.
"You do know she's a Hallow…." It was possible that Mildred had muddled the situation in her head. With her track record in the school so far, it wasn't completely beyond the bounds of possibility.
"The magic in the founding stone belonged to my family." Mildred's attention was fully on the elder Hallow now. Enid had the impression she could wave a hand in front of her friend's face and it wouldn't make a blind bit of difference. "All the magic my family might have wielded." Her eyes shone wider with the thought. "I should talk to her."
"Maybe not just now," Enid suggested, thinking that perhaps Esmeralda had already been through enough for one day. Getting your magic back and then being responsible for nearly causing the complete destruction of the school was bound to take the edge off your mood.
"I ought to say something though," Mildred wound the plait around her finger a few more times before it finally spun off and smacked against her shoulder. "Find out if there's any difference between Hallow magic and Hubble magic."
Enid shook her head; there was going to be no getting through to Mildred until she'd sorted things out for herself. She nudged her friend. "That particular conversation might have to wait. I don't think you're going to get her away from Miss Cackle any time soon."
A smile formed on Mildred's face. "I'm not so sure about that."
"Miss Cackle…. Miss Cackle…" there was a level of persistence in the tone that made it very hard to ignore. Ada Cackle had been teaching young witches for longer than she cared to remember and there was definitely a sliding scale when it came to persistent voices. There were those you didn't ignore because the last thing you had instructed the speaker to do was make a potentially volatile potion, and at the other end there were those who were scared of their own shadow and were merely afraid they would choose the wrong ingredient. This particular persistence came in the form of a whine and a hopping about from one foot to the other. It was down near the bottom of the scale, but sufficiently irritating enough to draw her in. Reluctantly, Ada turned her attention away from Esmeralda and down towards the slightly damp first year whose name she regrettably couldn't quite recall. "My dear girl, what on earth have you been doing?"
"It's raining rather heavily out there Miss Cackle," the young witch replied earnestly as rainwater dripped steadily from the bottom of her cloak onto the floor. Ada noted the way the girl's eyes widened slightly as she realised who she'd interrupted. She took a step backwards. "The bell rang… at the front gate. I was passing and…" she tailed off. Her words were still directed at Ada, but her eyes were now fixed firmly on Esmeralda. Ada frowned; she'd noticed a few of the first years keeping their distance during the evening. There had been gossip amongst that group at the start of the year regarding Esmeralda. It looked as though interest in her had just increased again.
"You were passing and…." Ada tried to get the young witch back on course.
There was a vague waving of an arm in the direction of the hallway. Ada clicked her tongue against her teeth. She risked a quick glance in Esme's direction, but the young woman's eyes were cast towards the ground as she nervously fiddled with the hem of her jacket, oblivious to the affect she was having on those around her.
"Come along." She put her hands on the shoulders of the girl and turned her around, pushing her gently towards the door. "Why don't you show me what it was you discovered at the front gate."
As she headed away from the room, she managed to catch the eye of Hecate, who was standing in the corner as though waiting to be summoned into action. She'd wanted to talk to Esmeralda, but it seemed as though she wasn't to be permitted a moments peace. Hecate acknowledged the look and somehow managed to straighten up further before heading off to take over where she'd left off.
The rain was coming down in torrents. Julie Hubble was soaked to the skin and beginning to bitterly regret turning down the offer of a magical lift home. It had been the supercilious sneer on Hecate Hardbroom's face that had caused her to fold her arms and insist she was fine. She was certain the witch was now having a private cackle to herself, imaging the drenching she was on the receiving end of. She didn't know why she let the potions teacher get to her on this occasion. She always told herself she wasn't going to be impressed by anything the witches in the school did. The more she told herself it was nothing more than some slightly offbeat boarding school, the more she was able to treat the magic as just another subject her daughter was taking that she didn't understand…. Like algebra. It had, on reflection, been something of a momentous day. Mildred had spent the whole of the previous year trying to find out if there was some sort of magical skeleton in the closet somewhere, and she'd done her best to let her daughter down gently, but here she was today finding out that they were both descendants of the very witch that had given up her magic to reignite a founding stone. Mildred had asked her if she'd wished she'd been magical and she'd surprised herself with her quick reply. She thought on the matter again as she turned a corner and decided that all things considered, she was much happier exactly as she was.
She turned up the collar of her coat in a wasted effort to stop the rain from running straight down the back of her neck. There was still a good way to go until she reached the bottom of the hill and then she'd have the unparalleled joy of trying to find a bus. She was so caught up in trying to remember if the number eighty eight ran until late that she nearly tripped over the broomstick that was lying on the path.
"Honestly girls!" Her first thought was that someone needed to take better care of their possessions. Julie ran the thought through her mind again. A year ago a discarded broom wouldn't have attracted even the slightest bit of attention beyond a tut that someone had left some naff Halloween prop out in the forest, but now, now that she knew that there really were witches who flew about the skies on creaking bits of old wood… and that really wasn't something she wanted to think about someone with Mildred's level of clumsiness doing…she looked at the bedraggled looking broomstick in a whole new light. She slowed her pace, uncertain still if the things really did have a life of their own, or if they were only responsive when bossed about by those of a magical persuasion.
"Good broom," she said experimentally, and was quietly relieved when there was no response.
She stepped closer. The heavy rain was restricting her vision, but she was fairly certain there was something else near the broom. She just wasn't yet sure what shape that something took.
"Good broom," she said again and edged ever closer.
Blinking the rain out of her eyes she made out a dark shape at the side of the path ahead. It lay only a few metres away from the broom, almost lost within the heavy undergrowth. Pushing her soaking hair back from her face, she forgot all about her broomstick unease and ploughed through the thick mud and greenery towards what was now revealed as a distinctly human shape.
The woman was young, barely out of her teens from what little Julie could see of her. A black cloak was swathed around her, a hat with an unmistakable point lay only a short distance away. What was the young witch doing out on her own on Halloween? She knelt beside her and nervously pressed two fingers against her neck. Her skin was freezing to the touch but there was the faintest of pulses. She let out a breath she'd not realised she'd been holding and sat back on her heels. How she was going to get the woman to somewhere she could receive medical attention she had no idea. She glanced back up the way she'd come. It was probably further to go to get to the castle, but probably less time to get help to the stricken witch. There was precious little by way of cover, the rain penetrating the canopy of the trees and soaking everything beneath.
Not expecting much joy, she pulled her phone from her coat pocket and saw the expected lack of coverage. Not even a single bar. The mobile reception, that was patchy at the best of times, had completely given out. Dimity had said something to her earlier in the evening about the accelerated levels of magic in the air having an effect and she'd nodded but not really understood.
She glanced once again in the direction of the broom. Witches flew on them…. Eleven year old witches flew on them. Eleven year old witches who had only recently discovered their magical heritage flew on them.
She gave the broom a tentative nudge with her right foot. "If I was to tell you to hover, what would you do?" She let out what could only be described as a yelp as the broom twitched. She clasped a hand to her chest and quickly glanced around. She'd seen Mildred practice with the broom in the living room before. She'd warned her that flying indoors was most definitely not on the cards, but she was happy for basic broom control to go ahead. She briefly closed her eyes and then held her right arm out straight in the way she'd seen Mildred do. "Hover," she ordered; feeling immediately self-conscious. There was no movement from the broom and Julie wondered if perhaps it had been some small rodent that had caused the broom to move. "Hover." She tried putting a bit more 'mum' voice into it and that seemed to do the trick. There was a definite rustle as the broom considered responding to her call. It rose a few inches off the ground and then dropped back down again. "HOVER, YOU BLOODY STUPID PIECE OF WOOD, HOVER." She was past being patient with it now.
There was a twitch and a jump and then, without warning, the broom shot up in the air. It arrowed straight up towards the topmost branches of the trees.
"I said hover not achieve orbit," she yelled after it. She tried shielding her eyes to see if she could track its progress, but it had to all intents and purposes vanished. Writing the broom off as a bad idea, she turned her attention back to the stricken witch. She had to get help to the woman, she just wasn't sure how to go about achieving that.
Ada bustled along the dark draughty corridor that led to the main door. It was one of the parts of the castle that had proved impossible to keep warm. She had seen a number of people down the years who had tapped the stones, sucked the air in over their teeth, thoughtfully chewed the ends of their pencils, and then vanished off without ever providing any sort of satisfactory solution. Ada had reluctantly come to accept that freezing draughts were a feature of the school, although she wasn't yet ready to write it into the prospectus.
She had managed to get a few details out of the first year pupil once she'd persuaded the girl out of the hall and finally remembered that her name was Lottie something. The details provided by Lottie were on the sketchy side though and amounted to little more than 'there's someone at the main door for you.' She'd thanked the young witch anyway and ushered her back towards the main hall.
She patted down the front of her cardigan, checking that she wasn't still draped in any of the Halloween decorations that had been strung about the place. It was a little undignified to be having a conversation with someone and not know that a cat toy was hanging from a loose thread.
The first thing she noticed as she approached the visitor was the puddle that was gathering on the stone flags. The woman's clock was dripping with rainwater.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," she began. The witch turned around at the sound of her voice and Ada was surprised to see such a young face beneath the sodden hat. She'd half-expected the visitor to be some concerned parent, or guardian. The witch standing in front of her was decidedly too young to be either of those.
"Melody Evensong. New addition to the council," the woman introduced herself with a nervous smile, and Ada realised she'd not offered the new arrival any sort of greeting. "Well met Miss Evensong," she said rather belatedly.
"Well met Miss Cackle."
"I'm sorry, I was rather surprised to see your cloak so wet. Is it…"
"Absolutely heaving down. Started as I neared the castle. Rather a localised storm, but if the stories coming out of this castle are anything to go by, then that's not entirely unexpected. I hear it was rather colder here a few hours ago."
"Bad news does travel fast."
"I'm here at the behest of the council. They'd like a report or two before morning."
Ada glanced down at her watch. "At this hour. It is a little late."
"The Great Wizard was rather insistent." There was a tone in the witch's voice that told Ada she'd rather be anywhere than standing dripping water onto cold flagstones.
"Of course, but perhaps we should get you in out of the cold." She offered to take the cloak and the hat. "Perhaps I could sort these out for you."
"Thank you." She undid the clasp at her neck and peeled the cloak from her shoulders. "Magic is not working in the way it should out there," she explained as she lifted the sodden hat from her head and tried to tuck the stray strands of blond hair behind her ears. "I'm assuming it's some leftover hoodoo from the earlier unpleasantness."
Ada frowned. There had been no mention of iffy magic when Miss Mould had been collected, but then again she assumed that at that precise moment in time, the Great Wizard may have had one or two more pressing things on his mind. "Please Miss Evensong, you must think me a dreadful host. Come this way and if you permit, we can sort out getting you a little warmer."
She took the soaked garments from their guest and attempted a drying spell on them. She frowned as nothing happened.
"As I said, things haven't been working entirely as they should."
"Dear me," Ada fretted as she gestured for Miss Evensong to follow her. "I do hope this doesn't last long."
She led the way down the corridor, trying her best to put her guest at ease. What she didn't see were the dark shadows that clung to the walls and swirled around every item of furniture. They had their foothold in the school. Now they just had to wait.