Rosen is part of the Mundane Magecraft team engaged in house restoration, protection, and charm work across Southwest England. Unlike witches, they view magic as a tool rather than a religious connection, which keeps the team at odds with the local covens. In the past 48 hours, Rosen has discovered her car bashed, been possessed by a ghost and accused of murder during the latest magical surge. Nobody knows what is happening with the magical surges, but everyone agrees it’s dangerous. Catch up with the last episode or read the entire story (for free) from the beginning.
I paid for that petty spell. The power pull required to stick everything down took the last of my reserves, and I fell asleep in the ambulance. That’s a lot more impressive than it sounds – ambulances are hi-tech metal vans that rattle like maracas when they pick up speed.
I woke up to the scrape of cutlery on the hospital ward the next day, and for one dreadful moment, I thought I was still in the tearoom.
“Thought that would do it,” Em said next to my ear. I gave a half-jump, twisted round to see her grinning like the proverbial witch’s cat. She looked good today, decked out in skinny jeans, Doc Martens and a blue T-shirt with the words “NOPE -not today” across the front. Her pixie cut had feathered strands of blue throughout, matching the T-shirt. Latika sat next to her, decked out in a bright, pink midi dress with ruffled sleeves.
“Barbie meets casual punk,” I said, just to needle them both and grimaced at the taste in my mouth.
“Mages crack the Sleeping Beauty spell, more like,” Em said, poking me with one finger. “You’ve slept for 17 hours and nearly missed the end of breakfast. Latika here kicked your ultradian rhythm into working again.”
“Thanks,” I said, shifting upright on the bed. Everything felt slower and more sluggish than usual. A quick peek under the covers confirmed that I was naked from the waist down and had a catheter in place.
“Any chance of something to eat?” I asked, once the shock had worn off.
Latika scuttled off, leaving me to Em’s tender mercies.
I nodded at her T-shirt slogan. “That does a good job of framing your nipples,” I remarked. “Did Mike choose it?”
Em’s smile shrivelled to a glare.
“I did. If people are going to look down at me, they can damn well look where I want. And you’re not getting out of this conversation.”
I looked at her innocently.
“What’ve I done now?”
Em held up her hand and listed my offences on her fingers, causing me to groan.
“One – you got involved in someone else’s sloppy coven ritual without prior permission.”
“I was trying to save a life,” I protested.
Em slapped the side of the bed with a low electrical shock that jammed my teeth together. She ignored my muffled shriek and kept speaking.
“Two – you did a power pull that would have fried anyone else’s brains, without back-up or a regulator to soak up the aftermath. You are very, very lucky to be here today.”
I couldn’t argue with that. It was stupid.
“Three – your spectacular blowback melted every other spell in the area and gave Cecelia the perfect cover to claim negligence against our firm. Myself, Mike and John have been running around like headless chickens to fix the damage whilst you’ve been having your little power nap.”
I winced.
“Four – I had to unstick Glenda and her two baby witches who rushed in to help her after you left the tea rooms yesterday. You just broke the Pearce restraining order.”
“It was an honest mistake,” I said, trying not to laugh. “I had a magical misfire.”
Em shook her head. “Don’t pulll that crap with me, Roz. The cups, plates, tables and chairs are still stuck in place! Once you are out of hospital, I am placing you on official sick leave and unofficially sending you back to the tea rooms with an apology and an unsticking spell. Got it?”
I nodded, feeling the shame creep in. “I was aiming for the teacup,” I explained.
“Don’t feel too bad,” Latika remarked, coming back with a tray of tea, toast, cornflakes and an apple. "Em got to hex them to break your spell, so now they owe her.”
I slurped at the tea gratefully, before attacking the buttered toast. “What did you do to them?” I asked between mouthfuls.
Em smirked. “My patented voiceless curse. I thought about using it on you, but it’s not like you need to speak to do magic.”
I stared at her, wild-eyed.
“You wouldn’t..!”
Em waited, a beat too long, then shook her head. “I talked it over with Mike and John. We could bind you, but given how much power you can handle, the binding would have to be permanent to stay in place. Plus, it would make you look guilty as hell, and we’re trying to avoid that before the coroner and the police decide if it’s murder.”
I settled back on the pillows. “Thank you.”
Em sniffed. “You are welcome. As it stands, you’re losing a week’s worth of pay, and you’re back on probation until we are satisfied you’re safe to work alone.”
I reached for the apple. “That’s fair. I’m downsing with John, then?”
Em leaned back in her wheelchair and steepled her fingers, looking almost benign. “Oh no. John’s scheduled to work with Latika, and I’m not messing up her training just because you’ve messed up your magic. Mike’s down in Winchester for the next week, so you’re with me.”
“Oh.”
Latika glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, it’s 9 am. I need to get to the office. It’s good to see you awake again, Ros.” She leaned in for a hug.
“Thanks,” I said ruefully. “I’m lucky it’s you and not Mum.”
“She was here all evening,” Em said. “We told her we’d take the morning shift so she could sleep. I’m staying until you are discharged. We can do a case review of the Sion Hill ghost. What happened to that protection amulet I gave to you last birthday?”
My heart sank.
*
I got discharged three hours later, thanks to clear results and some desperate begging to the ward’s consultant. It helped that he knew Em, staying two steps back as most people do when they’ve seen her at work. “Go home and rest,” he ordered me. “No magic for at least a few days.”
“Not a problem,” I said fervently.
“She’s going to be buried in historical research,” Em said seriously.
The poor guy looked relieved. “Er…good. How’s the leg, Mrs Croft?”
“Boring,” Em said, tapping the brace. “I’m experimenting with herb combinations to speed up the healing.”
“Can we go now?” I interrupted. I was desperate for a shower and a break from Em’s scrutiny. My brother’s waiting for us.”
It took a bit of casting around to spot Aidan’s car – he swapped vehicles as often as drinks at a hen party, in the same spirit of reckless fun. I found him in a white Toyota Prius, parked in a disabled bay.
“You know you need a Blue Badge for that?” I asked, slightly breathless after I helped Em navigate the car park. Aidan shrugged. He had the giant genes of the family, over a foot taller than me, with gangly hands and feet to match. He was also rocking a handlebar moustache to annoy Mum and looked older than 21. “Em’s in a wheelchair, right? What more do we need?”
“Says the guy who parked his Uber in a taxi rank,” Em scoffed. She had been his passenger for that particular disaster. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Aidan shovelled us quickly into the Prius and carefully folded up Em’s chair for the boot. I stretched out on the passenger seat and thought about home-cooked pancakes at my parents’ house.
Behind me, Em’s phone beeped.
“Ready to go?” Aidan asked, sliding in through the door. His seatbelt fastened with a metallic snick that echoed my phone’s message beep.
“It’s a group text,” Em said from behind me. “Change of plans, Aidan. We need to go to Avonmouth.”
“I’m off-duty,” I wailed. I fumbled for my phone and swiped the screen open.
There was a text from Mike.
WATER SPIRIT AT AVON DOCKS. ALL HANDS ALERT.