Blackheath Resurrection (The Blackheath Witches Book 2) Page 5

  “Which he isn’t,” Maggie concluded as they burst through the school’s double doors. They were met with a frigid blast of wind.

  “Yeah,” confirmed Joel, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “So hurry before she changes her mind. I’ll meet you at the car.”

  While the girls raced across the snow-covered orchard to gather a few essentials from their room, Joel leaned over the Jeep’s steering wheel and started the engine. Then he went around the back of the vehicle and began clearing off the snowy rear window with the sleeve of his jacket. Of course he’d still have to run the new houseguests past Evan and Ainsley. But they’d be fine with it.

  Probably, he decided with a nervous breath.

  Just as Joel climbed into the front seat of the Jeep, Evan walked up and opened the passenger’s side door. He shook the snowflakes from his fair hair and frowned over at Joel.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Uh . . .” Joel fiddled with the indicator, flipping it on and off. “I did something.”

  “No kidding,” Evan noted as he climbed into the vehicle. “You look guilty as hell. What did you do?”

  “I told Maggie and Isla they could stay with us for a while.” He looked down at the gear stick. “There’s some problem at the boarding house and they had nowhere else to go, so . . .” he trailed off.

  “Oh,” said Evan, pressing his palms together. “Okay.”

  “It won’t be for long,” said Joel, looking up to meet his brother’s eyes. “At least, probably not.”

  Actually, he had no idea how long it would be for.

  “Okay,” Evan said again.

  “Is it, though?” Joel asked. “I mean, I know I should have checked with you first, but—”

  “No, it’s fine,” Evan said, breaking into a relaxed smile. “Really. We’ve got room.”

  “You think they’ll notice that we’re—”

  “Witches?” Evan guessed.

  Joel laughed under his breath. “I think they may be on to us already,” he said with a wry grin. “Actually, I was going to say ‘head cases’.”

  Evan laughed now, too. “Nah. We hide it well.”

  As if on cue, Ainsley jumped into the back seat of the Jeep and slammed the door shut behind him. Immediately, he tilted his head in the air and sniffed loudly. “What is the mood in this car?” he demanded with a groan. “Freakin’ love fest, that’s what. It makes me noxious.” He made a show of dry-heaving.

  “I think you mean ‘nauseous’,” Joel corrected, eyeing his younger brother in the rearview mirror.

  “No, I mean noxious.”

  “Ainsley,” Evan said, glancing over his shoulder into the back seat. “Maggie and Isla will be staying with us for a while.”

  Ainsley’s jaw dropped. “Um, no much?”

  “Yes much,” said Evan.

  Ainsley gawped at his brothers and knotted his fingers through his blonde curls. “Excuse me? Are you two tapped?” He gave an exaggerated shake of his head. “We can’t have non-witch girl things roaming around all over the place!”

  “We’ll make it work,” said Evan.

  Joel cast a sideways glance at Evan and chewed his lower lip.

  “We’ll make it work,” Evan repeated.

  Joel flipped on the wipers and cleared the windscreen just in time to see Maggie and Isla racing back across the parking lot. They were carrying backpacks on their shoulders and their arms were raised to shield their faces from the blowing snow. A moment later, they breathlessly clambered into the back of the Jeep. Ainsley hissed at them.

  Please don’t let this be a bad idea, Joel silently beseeched the blizzard.

  “Hi, girls,” Evan said amiably.

  “Hey, Evan,” they echoed.

  Joel notched up the wiper speed and the blades swept away the remaining build-up of slush. Then he pressed his foot down on the accelerator and they lumbered out of the parking lot.

  They drove in silence down the quiet, wintery road. After a while, they veered off into the wooded hills towards the old mansion. The Jeep gave a groan as it struggled through the deep snow. The wind picked up speed, and weighed-down frosted branches scratched at the side windows.

  As they moved steadily upwards along the vague path towards home, Joel felt a strange sense of foreboding—a darkness that was glaring in contrast to the white world around him. He felt it move across his skin and sink into his veins. It whispered to him in words unspoken.

  A darkness was coming.

  In fact, it was already there.

  JOEL PARKED THE Jeep in a clearing beside the mansion. The old witch house rose tall into the white sky. It was a towering black and grey expanse of a building, almost castle-like with its turrets and broad curving walls. Rusted balconies with snow-covered railings jutted out from the old brickwork, and crawling ivy had spun its ascending web four storeys high. The surrounding forest was still, muted by snow and frost.

  Joel was first to step out of the Jeep. As he jumped down onto the slushy ground, he glanced briefly back to where he knew the narrow path wound through the forest beneath the new dusting of snow. The deep-set tyre marks he’d just created were the only blemish on the otherwise white silken blanket that covered the entire landscape.

  Evan, Ainsley, Maggie, and Isla followed behind Joel as he trudged towards the mansion.

  Climbing the porch steps, a wave of trepidation tugged at Joel’s stomach. Should he really be inviting these non-witch girl things to stay in their very witch home?

  Pushing the thought aside, he blew out a deep breath that disturbed the feathery snow from the brass lion’s head doorknocker.

  We’re doing this, he decided, jamming the house key into the lock.

  Joel heaved the iron door open and led the troupe into the dark entrance hall. The wall-mounted oil lamps’ flames trembled in the sudden gust from the open door. Before them, the wide sweeping staircase was lit by a lance of pale winter sunlight streaming through the tall windows. The broken banister glistened where it caught the path of light.

  Joel cleared his throat and gestured along the corridor in front of them. “That’s the kitchen,” he said, pointing towards an elaborately carved archway leading off the hallway.

  “And that’s the dining room,” Evan added, thumbing towards a huge black door open just enough to reveal walnut floorboards and darkly stained floor-to-ceiling beams. In the centre of the room sat a long mahogany dining table, above which hung a crystal chandelier.

  The girls made approving noises.

  “There are more rooms,” said Joel, glancing to the dozen or so other doors leading off the twisting corridor. “But we don’t really use them.”

  “We haven’t gotten around to sorting through our late Aunt Pearl’s possessions,” Evan explained, extending his hands to take the girls’ coats. “She lived here before us. She left us the house in her will.”

  Ainsley grimaced. “And she had a lot of junk,” he said emphatically. “There’s years of crap to sort through. We’re probably not going to do it.”

  Evan shot him a warning look. “We will do it, Ainsley,” he said, hanging the girls’ jackets on a couple of hooks by the door. “We’re just building up to it.”

  The girls nodded in a show of understanding.

  “Ainsley’s right about one thing, though,” said Joel, attempting to smooth over the awkwardness. “She did collect a lot of junk. I mean, there’s at least a century of ornaments here. She was old.”

  “Really old,” all three boys said in unison.

  “Anyway,” Joel moved on, “we appear to have some alleged relatives squatting in these lower-floor rooms.”

  “Don’t let that scare you, though,” Evan added.

  Ainsley guffawed.

  “But you’re welcome to stay upstairs,” said Joel hospitably. “You can choose from any of the unclaimed bedrooms.”

  “But, um, unfortunately we haven’t really gotten around to cleaning them,” Evan admitted, his nose twitching sli
ghtly.

  “We’re probably not going to do that, either,” Ainsley said with a yawn.

  Maggie gave a quick wave of her hand. “No worries,” she said. “You don’t have to clean for us. We’re just grateful you’re letting us stay here.” Her olive green eyes met Joel’s and she smiled.

  A shiver moved through him. “No problem,” he said.

  Isla linked her arm through Maggie’s. “So, can we go explore upstairs?” she asked as she looked between the Tomlins boys.

  “Sure,” Evan replied. “Make yourselves at home.”

  “Thanks!” Isla dazzled them with a megawatt smile before hauling Maggie towards the sweeping staircase.

  “Just don’t get too comfortable!” Ainsley yelled after them.

  “And watch out for the third step on that staircase,” Evan added quickly. “It goes straight from two to four.”

  “Maybe just be careful where you step in general,” Joel elaborated. “There are a couple of loose nails we haven’t gotten around to fixing yet.”

  “And we don’t intend to!” Ainsley hollered.

  Evan shot Ainsley a look.

  Ainsley ignored it. “Seriously,” he called after the girls as they took a generous stride over the missing third step, “just a short visit, okay?”

  Joel elbowed him in the ribs. “Stay as long as you want!”

  But Maggie and Isla’s attention was already elsewhere as they happily ascended the grand staircase.

  Alone now, the three Tomlins boys stood anxiously in the entrance.

  “Damn it,” Ainsley muttered, pressing his knuckles to his mouth. “I should have told them to keep out of my bedroom.” His lavender eyes widened. “Oh, hellfire! What if they think they can sleep in my room? I should go up there and tell them it’s off limits.”

  He moved towards the staircase, but Evan grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

  “They won’t go into your room,” said Joel. “No one would want to go in there, trust me. It’s like a toxic landfill.”

  “Just let them settle in a bit,” advised Evan.

  “And try to be normal,” Joel added.

  Ainsley withdrew in horror. “You be normal,” he shot back.

  Evan held up his palms. “Look, everyone just . . . be normal.”

  The boys let out a collective sigh.

  “Okay,” said Joel, clapping his hands together. “So we’ll warn the relatives to keep a low profile for a couple of days. Topaz should be back with Pippin by now, so let’s call a quick family meeting and figure something out.”

  Ainsley smirked. “I can’t wait to tell Toppy what you did now,” he muttered. “As if stealing Dad’s spell book wasn’t enough . . .”

  “I didn’t steal it,” Joel defended himself before turning to Evan. “But while we’re on the subject,” he continued, lowering his voice, “we’ll find a room where we can practise. Somewhere out of the way—”

  “We can do that after they’re gone,” Evan interrupted, casting his gaze down to the floorboards. “It can wait.”

  Joel rubbed his jaw. “I’m done with waiting around.”

  “But Dad—” began Evan.

  “Dad’s not here,” Joel cut him off. “Get over it. Move on.”

  Evan didn’t say anything. He just lowered his eyes and ran the toe of his sneaker through the little puddles of water left by the snow they’d tracked in.

  “The more we practise our powers, the stronger we’ll get,” Joel said calmly. “If anything happens—with the Fallows or otherwise—we’ll have to defend ourselves. So we need to get better, right?”

  Nobody said anything. Somewhere upstairs, some loose boards creaked.

  Joel lowered his voice even further. “Who knows? Maybe we can find a spell that will help us understand exactly what happened to our mother and Kaden that night.”

  Ainsley looked at the floor now, too.

  “So it’s settled,” Joel went on. “Having guests here isn’t going to stop us from practising witchcraft. It can’t. We’ve got to just keep going as normal.” He glanced to the staircase, but the girls were nowhere in sight. “Let’s get this family meeting over with.”

  Ainsley heaved an enormous sigh before stomping off along the oak corridor towards the kitchen with Evan and Joel in his wake. When the brothers emerged in the cluttered breakfast room, they found Pippin alone in his highchair, smiling amiably at a spider that was hanging from the ceiling by its silvery thread.

  Joel slapped his hand to his head. “What are you doing in here by yourself?” he asked the toddler. “Where’s Topaz?”

  Pippin’s attention strayed to his brothers now. His sweet smile stayed in place.

  Frowning, Joel lifted Pippin from the highchair and carried him back into the hallway.

  “Topaz!” Joel hollered while Pippin’s stubby four-year-old fingers tugged affectionately at a strand of his hair. “To-paz!”

  Farther along the corridor, one of the doors creaked open. Alleged Aunt Topaz, shrouded in a hooded velvet robe, poked her head out. She had claimed that room from the get-go, saying it was the only one auspicious enough to act as her Fortune Room. All Joel knew was that it was the place where she hosted her crystal ball readings—for a sizeable fee, of course.

  “Yes?” she trilled. The coins in the pockets of her robe jingled tunefully.

  Joel paced along the corridor holding Pippin tightly to his chest. Oil painted eyes stared down at him critically as he closed in on his alleged aunt. “Why was Pippin left alone in the kitchen?”

  “Because that is where he wanted to be,” Alleged Aunt Topaz offered, reaching out to pinch the toddler’s cheek. Pippin grinned in response.

  “You’re supposed to be watching him while we’re at school,” Joel reminded her tersely. “Not strapping him into his highchair and leaving him to fend for himself.”

  “Joel, my dear, I watch him from afar.”

  “If he needed someone to watch him from afar, I’d do it from school myself,” Joel snapped. “You’re supposed to be with him.”

  “I am with him right now, aren’t I?” Topaz said, playfully pinching Pippin’s rosy cheek again. “I am also presently with a customer,” she added, wiggling her fingers towards the room she had just emerged from. “So please do move on now. One is terribly busy.”

  Joel glared at her.

  Farther along the corridor, another door creaked open and Alleged Third-or-Fourth Cousin Opal poked her large head out. “Salutations, Tomlins boys. Middle and Youngest, I see,” she said gruffly, a thick cigar balanced between her thin lips.

  Joel’s eyebrows drew together. “Oh, you’re still here,” he noted. “I’d almost forgotten about you.”

  She peered over Joel’s shoulder to Alleged Aunt Topaz. “Middle is highly strung,” she observed through the opaque stream of smoke that was spilling from the embers of her cigar.

  Alleged Aunt Topaz nodded in concurrence.

  “Of course I’m highly strung!” Joel exclaimed. “Everywhere I turn, I see you people!”

  A little farther along the corridor, another door groaned open.

  Joel sighed as the wide face of The Incredible Psychic Madam Emerald glowered out. Pippin, still safely on Joel’s hip, cheered when he saw her.

  “Keep zee noize down!” she barked in her strangely unplaceable accent. “Zum ov uz are trying to zleep!”

  “Heads up, all of you,” said Joel, foregoing the idea of a family meeting. “We’ve got visitors of the non-witch variety, and they’ll be staying for a while. A day or two at least. So try to be normal, okay? Actually,” he backtracked, “try to be somewhere else for the duration of their stay. And longer.”

  The alleged relatives swapped disinterested glances.

  “And tell whoever else is hiding back here to do the same,” Joel added as an afterthought.

  While Opal and Emerald retreated to their respective rooms, Topaz craned her neck and peered down the corridor past Joel.

  “Oh!” she croaked when
she noticed Ainsley emerging from the kitchen. “Favourite child!”

  Ainsley’s head cocked. “Yes?”

  “Do come share your favourable energy to assist me with my reading,” Topaz cajoled.

  Joel could almost see money signs popping into her crow-like eyes as she shooed him away from her doorway.

  Brightening, Ainsley sauntered towards the Fortune Room, a look of superiority ageing him beyond his thirteen years. As Topaz swung the heavy door open to allow Ainsley access, Joel peered inside the room. Topaz had decorated it lavishly, with mauve walls and a plethora of hanging charms. On top of a small round table covered in purple silk cloth sat a crystal ball and a splayed deck of Tarot cards.

  One of the seats at the round table was occupied by a middle-aged woman with straw-like bleached blonde hair piled on top of her head. The woman’s eyes lit up when she saw a bona fide Tomlins stride into the room and two more hovering in the doorway. A moment later, Topaz slammed the door shut behind Ainsley, and Joel and Pippin were left alone in the corridor.

  “What do you think Ainsley can do that we can’t?” Joel asked his baby brother.

  Pippin blinked back at him.

  Joel thought about it for a moment, then laughed to himself. “Nothing,” he decided. “It’s just a scam. What do you think, Pip?” His gaze wandered to the dark door. “Probably just pulling the wool over their eyes, huh?”

  “Their eyes,” echoed Pippin with a little hiccup.

  A LITTLE WHILE later, Joel found Maggie and Isla upstairs. They’d chosen a room to share. It was one of the larger chambers at the end of the first-floor corridor—a corridor that even Joel had not fully explored yet.

  Actually, the room was a pretty okay choice, Joel decided. Maybe if he’d been more thorough when selecting his own bedroom, he would have chosen this one. The ceiling was higher in here, for one thing. It vaulted up to the next storey and formed a turret peak. A wrought-iron spiral staircase rose in the centre of the room, ascending up to the mezzanine level above. And, much like in Joel’s bedroom, French doors led out to a spacious balcony, offering a sweeping view of the snowy forest beyond.

  As with most of the rooms in Really Old Aunt Pearl’s mansion, the furniture was minimal but the clutter was plentiful. On either side of the staircase were two narrow beds, each made up with faded yellow linens. An antique dresser between the beds proudly displayed a collection of dusty snow globes.