Chapter 14

14

R hi

“Get your things,” Azlan says, marching towards the stairs and calling Stone’s name.

I hurry into the kitchen, the Cloudpuff still in my hand.

“What’s wrong?” Winnie asks, registering my face as she looks up from the table where she’s sitting on Trent’s lap, sipping tea.

“There’s someone here.”

“Who?”

“An enforcer and two others – magicals who work for Christopher Kennedy. They were looking for us.” Winnie leaps up from Trent’s lap, spilling most of her tea in the process. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “They can’t get through the shield, but they think they’ve found us. They’ve called in for reinforcements. Azlan says we have to leave.”

Winnie’s face pales and she stands dumbstruck.

“Winnie, the potion.”

“Is there time?” she says, glancing at the Cloudpuff in my fist.

“We’re going to have to make time.”

Winnie nods and turns to Trent.

“Will you pack up our stuff? I mean there isn’t much, just the–”

“I’m on it Winnie. You help Rhi.”

When he’s out of the kitchen, I ask Winnie if she told Trent what we were brewing.

“No, of course not and he didn’t pry.”

I smile at her. “He is the best.”

“Yep,” she says. “I know you have five extremely hot dudes and I only have one but mine is far better.”

“Hmmm,” I say and Winnie laughs, plucking the Cloudpuff from my hands and beginning to grate the stalks.

It’s only a few minutes later that I’m drinking another dose of the potion and everyone else is back in the kitchen.

“Where are we going?” Spencer asks when we’re all gathered.

Several of us speak at once.

I shake my head at all the suggestions. “We’re going to the Albany convent,” I say firmly.

“The Albany convent,” Tristan says, “are you crazy? We’re still sticking to that plan?”

“Of course, we are. Nothing’s changed. They’re still after us. Like they were yesterday. Like they are today.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Tristan says.

“It’s not,” I say. “Your dad and everyone else thinks I’m out here and the last place they’ll expect me to turn up is at the Albany Convent. We can sneak in, search for that prophecy and then leave. ”

Everyone starts telling me how stupid this plan is. Everyone but Stone.

“Rhi’s right,” he says, which is a sentence I never expected to hear fall from Professor Stone’s mouth. “We need to see that prophecy. We need to understand what it really says. All we have is second-hand garbled bullshit. We need the truth.”

His best friend considers him. “You truly believe it will help?”

“Those prophecies aren’t some two-bit fortune-telling hack crap, Azlan. Over the centuries, they’ve been proven to be accurate. If there is one about Rhianna, we need to see it.”

“Okay, then,” Azlan says. “Stone and I will head to the convent. The rest of you will go to the Mulhony caves and we’ll meet you there.”

I shake my head vehemently. “We’re stronger together and we’re not splitting up again. Ever. Winnie and Trent will go to the Mulhony caves. The rest of us are going to the convent.”

“You think I’m going to agree to being left behind?” Winnie says.

“Winnie,” I say, “this is my battle – our battle,” I add, pointing to my mates, “not yours. You’ve already done enough. Go to the caves with Trent and wait for us there.” She shakes her head as adamantly as I had done. “Winnie, we need your brains and Trent’s expertise intact. Please.”

Winnie glances at her boyfriend, then caves. “Okay, but only if you promise to take one of these,” she presses one of the radios Trent was building yesterday into my hands, “so we can keep in contact. Plus, you’d better come back and–”

“We will,” I say firmly.

“This is all good and well,” Spencer says, looking anxiously towards the door, “except, how are we getting out of here?”

My shoulders slump.

“It’s a good question,” I admit. “Azlan?” I know he spent most of yesterday poring over his map. I also know there’s an enforcer and two others standing guard outside the property, Winnie’s car isn’t big enough to fit all of us inside and the last time Renzo tried to transport so many people it nearly killed him.

“Silas and the others are no problem,” Azlan says in a way that leaves me in no doubt.

“But we can’t walk all the way to the Gray Isle,” Spencer insists. “It would take us forever and Kennedy’s forces would catch up with us.”

“Barone,” Stone says.

“Will not be transporting us,” I say. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll do it,” he says.

“You won’t,” I say firmly.

“What would you suggest instead then?” Stone asks.

But I have no ideas.

None at all.

“Erm,” Trent says, scratching his head. “There are some broomsticks in the attic.”

Stone bursts out laughing but Renzo’s eyes light up like a kid’s on their birthday and he runs from the room.

I know I’m missing something,

“Broomsticks?” I say to Winnie. “I’m assuming this is relevant somehow.”

“Broomsticks, Rhi. It’s how magicals got around back in the olden days.”

“Really? I thought that was more fairytale bullshit stuff.”

“No, I mean it wasn’t super common. It’s a pretty dangerous method of travel and so most magicals were happy enough to stick with horses and coaches. Then the steam train and the motorcar came along and the practice of broomstick flying pretty much died out.”

“Because it’s girly as shit,” Spencer scoffs.

Winnie fixes him with her most penetrating stare. “Do you have a problem with ‘girly shit’, Spencer Moreau?”

Spencer’s gaze drops to the floor. “Errr, no.”

“They also banned broomstick travel,” Trent pipes up, “for being dangerous. It’s not like a broomstick comes with a seatbelt or an airbag.”

“But you think we could use them to take us to the Albany convent?” I ask Trent.

“It was just an observation,” he mutters, glancing at Azlan.

“Do any of you actually know how to fly a broomstick?” I ask the others.

Azlan, Stone and Spencer all scoff, like the idea of any of them climbing onto a broomstick is the silliest thing ever considered. Obviously far too girly for such big burly men like them. I roll my eyes. But both Trent and Winnie nod and after a pause Tristan does too.

“Even though it’s illegal?” I say, raising an eyebrow at Winnie.

“We used to do it behind my mom’s back,” Winnie confesses. “We used to steal the broom, take it out back and bewitch it, take turns to have a ride. It’s really not as dangerous as Trent is making out.”

“That’s because you’re really, really good at magic, Winnie,” Trent says, smiling at her. “We could never get our broomstick under control. It used to kick us off like a bucking bronco! That’s how I broke my arm when I was ten – although I told my mom and dad I fell out of a tree.”

“And you used to do this too?” I ask Tristan, surprised. Tristan Kennedy is all about looking cool. Riding broomsticks doesn’t seem to fit his image.

“Sometimes, when I was bored,” he says while Spencer gapes at him like his best friend just confessed to having three dicks. “It’s not that hard.”

Trent meets my eye. “It is. Those two are just …” He shrugs just as Renzo returns with his arms full of broomsticks. Ancient-looking broomsticks made from twigs and sticks tied together with string that must be about to disintegrate.

“There are more up in the attic,” he says, dumping them on the ground. “Along with lots of other weird shit. The people who lived here were freaky.”

I reach down and pick one up, the handle had been sanded down and polished and despite the advent of time, is still smooth to the touch. The broom is also lighter than I expected it to be, so light I can almost feel its buoyancy.

“How do I make it work?” I ask Tristan.

“You heard Trent,” Azlan says. “Broom flying is dangerous.”

“So is staying in this mansion,” I snipe, “and do you have any better ideas?”

Azlan considers this question. “No,” he admits, “I don’t.”

I turn back to Tristan. He sweeps his hand through his hair uncomfortably and takes a step forward.

“Broomsticks are female,” he says.

“Of course they are,” Winnie says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because housework is women’s work.”

“I didn’t make the rules. They just are, okay?”

“Really?” Trent says. “I never noticed that.”

“No offense,” Tristan says, wrapping his hand around mine, “but that’s probably why you could never stay on. You need to ask her permission to ride her. ”

Spencer sniggers but I can tell Tristan is serious about this.

“And how do I do that?”

“Hmmm,” he groans, “it’s just something I knew how to do. I don’t know how to explain it.” He closes his eyes, his magic humming in the air, and the end of the broomstick lifts off the ground, the entire thing hovering two feet from the floorboards.

I test my weight against the broom, it gives a little, but remains in the air as if it’s floating on water.

“Give it a try,” Tristan tells me.

I rest my backside against the trunk of the broom and when I’m sitting on it, I lift my feet carefully from the ground. The broomstick supports my weight perfectly but I have to grip the handle tightly, working my core to remain balanced on the skinny piece of wood.

I grin. Renzo is wrestling with a broomstick in a corner, the thing hissing and writhing at him and Spencer is struggling to get another broom to lift from the ground.

“How do I make it go?”

“With your magic.”

I huff. Why is that the answer to everything?

I let my magic curl around the broom, sensing like I had with the dragon, that it has a magic of its own, a sleepy dormant magic that’s only just emerging and awakening. I go on instinct, my magic coiling and curling into this old magic, until the broom is vibrating beneath me.

Forward , I say in my head and the broom shoots across the room, leaving me hanging on for dear life.

“Stop!” I yell and the broom comes to a screeching halt, sending me hurtling forward to the floor.

Tristan offers me a hand and helps me up to my feet.

“We’re finding another way,” Azlan says .

“It was my first go. Give me a chance!” I jump back on the broom and try again, this time urging the broom forward more slowly. I glide forward, swinging to the left when I ask it to and then to the right, circling the room and stopping right in front of Azlan.

“Looks like we’ve found our way to the Gray Isle.”

“Will it be any quicker than walking?” Stone asks skeptically.

“These things can go really fast if you let them,” Trent says. “I mean not as fast as Winnie’s car, but a lot faster than walking or traveling by most normal forms of transport.”

“I really don’t understand why people stopped using them?” I say.

“On account of the falling off and smashing their skulls open,” Azlan harrumphs.

I admit that doesn’t sound like much fun, but neither does falling back into the hands of Christopher Kennedy.

Winnie, Trent and Tristan spend the next few minutes showing the others how to make their brooms work and how to ride them. Renzo brims with enthusiasm. The others less so, grumbling and bitching the entire time. Once they have them working though, Stone seems a little more on board with the idea, especially when he manages to do an impressive swerve around the room. Spencer and Azlan – the biggest of our group – do look slightly ridiculous hunched over their brooms, like giant grizzly bears clinging to the teeniest, tiniest of branches, but tough shit. Escaping Chistopher Kennedy’s clutches is worth a little dented pride.

Once we’re all confident enough, Winnie goes over some safety precautions, suggesting we all use our magic to lock ourselves to our brooms, refrain from any crazy maneuvers (she directs this comment towards Renzo) and remembering to listen to our broom .

“It knows better than you do how to fly,” she says.

“So how are we going to do this?” I ask. “As soon as we pass through the shield, we’ll be seen.”

“We’ll leave out the back. That will put some distance between them and us before we’re spotted.”

“Pip?” I say.

We all glance down at my pet who for once has been sitting patiently without complaint while the rest of us have been playing with our broomsticks.

“I can’t see little man sitting good and proper on the back of your broom,” Renzo says and I have to agree. Pip has never had a great sense of balance or acrobatics.

“Want me to knock him out?” Azlan asks.

I peer down at Pip with a look of sympathy.

“Sorry Pip,” I say. He stands up alarmed about to snort at me but in the next moment, Azlan waves his arms, and Pip slumps to the floor.

“I’ll put him in my rucksack,” Renzo offers.

I scoop Pip up and hand him over.

“Okay, but, you heard Winnie, no fancy tricks. Our aim is to get there in one piece as quickly as possible.”

“And when we get there, how exactly are we getting into the convent?” Spencer asks. “Isn’t the convent on the Gray Isle? That place is surrounded by haunted waters. You know there’ll be–”

“Haunted places are not so bad,” Tristan says with an unconvincing shrug. “Trekking through the Haunted Forest is how I left the academy a few days ago.”

“Okay,” I say, squaring my shoulders and taking a deep inhale. This is probably as stupid as our last plan to rescue Spencer. Then again all my plans seem pretty stupid and yet somehow – despite the odds – they work out. I just have to trust in myself and these five men. We’ll make this work. We’ll find a way. “Let’s go.”

We stride through the old mansion to the room at the back of the house. It’s long and grand and I assume it was used for parties and dancing. Glass doors line its back wall and I can almost imagine all those fancy gentlemen and ladies spilling out onto the terrace with a drink in hand.

Stone unlocks one of the doors; a cold wind sweeping in immediately and sending the usual ghostly dust spiraling up into the air. We step out onto the terrace. There’s an old dried-up fountain and several large plant pots, cracked and broken. The carcass of a dead bird lies sprawled across the old paving stones, the fine bones of its wings as white as the clouds above our heads.

I hope it’s not an omen, a sign.

“We’re heading north,” Azlan says, pointing up into the sky. “You’ll all follow me. Winnie, Trent, you’ll need to head east about an hour into our journey. Then it’s straight from there to the coast. You’ll hit the caves when you hit the sea.”

Winnie nods.

“We’ll meet you there later, once we’ve read the prophecy,” I confirm.

“Everybody happy?” Azlan asks.

Spencer snorts, clearly anything but happy.

“What happens if we get separated?” Tristan asks.

“We won’t,” I say adamantly.

“It’s better to be prepared.”

“If you’re separated from the group, head for the beach across from the Gray Isle and wait for the others there.”

“And if they don’t turn up?”

“There’s the bond,” I say, “we can feel each other through the bond. ”

Spencer fidgets on his feet and I know why. The bond between us isn’t sealed. I can’t feel him like I can feel the others. That connection isn’t cemented. I almost feel guilty about it, but we’re not there yet and so it’s just the way it’s going to have to be.

“Let’s go,” I say, fearing we’ve already wasted too much time.

My broom obeys my magic, rising from the ground and I sit on the polished wood, gripping the handle. Then I kick off from the ground and soar up into the clouded sky.

It takes a moment for the enforcer and his companions to spot us. There’s a shout from below us and then magic streams towards us like bright fireworks. We dodge and weave between them and plunge our way up into the thick cloud. The magic stops. They can’t see us anymore. They’ve lost us.

I let out an exhale and shake the hair from my face, counting those around me just to be sure we have everyone here.

“You still have Pip?” I call out to Renzo.

“Yep,” he answers, patting the rucksack on his back.

Then I grip the handle of my broom and dip my head.

We made it.

Somehow, by the skin of our teeth, we made it again. I just pray our luck will last.