Phantom Stag (A King's Watch Story Book 1)
Author: Hayden, Mark
Date: 2019-02-16
Keywords: Urban Fantasy
Description: A King’s Watch Story
Publisher: Paw Press

Phantom Stag

Table of Contents

1. Welcome
2. Prologue
3. 1
4. 2
5. 3
6. 4
7. 5
8. 6
9. 7
10. Author’s Note

1. Table of Contents

PHANTOM STAG

A King’s Watch Story - Book 1

by Mark Hayden

As told by Vicky Robson

08 Edition May 2020, with minor corrections.

Copyright © Paw Press 2019
www.pawpress.co.uk

Front Cover © Lawston Design 2019
www.lawstondesign.com

Images © Shutterstock

Welcome to the Phantom Stag…

This story is a shorter adventure from the tales of the King’s Watch.

It takes place about one third of the way through Tenfold, the Fourth Book of the King’s Watch.

You don’t need to have read any of the other books to follow this story.

All the characters mentioned here, and all the special magickal terms are explained in the Who’s Who and Magickal Glossary on the Paw Press website:

www.pawpress.co.uk

Prologue

The Hunter

It had been a clear night. A cold one, too. Over the Hunter’s shoulder, the stars in the east were dimming as the sun limbered up to replace them. Another half an hour and it would all end in failure, ignominy and recriminations. Unless…

There. A light in the trees. Two lights. Maybe three.

The Hunter didn’t take his eyes off the leading light as he picked up his bow and straightened up, his knees creaking just a little from squatting on the damp grass. He touched the Artefact on his chest and felt the threads and patterns of the Charm come alive under his fingers. He drew some Lux and wove the net of magick that would hide him from the onrushing deer. They were nearly at the edge of the forest, and he would soon have a clear shot. So would the enemy, the other Hunter who must be chasing them – deer wouldn’t break cover like this unless they felt in danger. He took an arrow and notched it to the bow.

The first deer broke through the bushes at the edge of the forest, and the Hunter started to draw the bow and take a bead on the stag…

Just in time, he saw it. That was no stag: it was a doe, heavy in calf and clearly in distress. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen if he’d brought her down. Then the second deer broke through and he saw them gleaming against the black trees – the curving, elegant points of silver antlers, the crowning glory of a Phantom Stag. The arrow was in the air before his head knew what his hand was doing. When the arrow struck the beast, an enormous flash of Lux burst across the meadow, blinding him and sending a horrible shiver up his spine.

The doe had disappeared into Home Wood before his eyes cleared, and the Hunter placed his bow carefully down before jogging a little unsteadily over the grass to finish the job.

He reached for his knife as he approached the beast, a few spots of light still cartwheeling around his mundane and magickal sight. And then he stopped, hand on his knife, jaw hanging slack at what lay on the ground before him.

With an enormous shudder, he took out not his knife but the short hunting horn.

The Priestess

She hadn’t moved for over an hour, and wouldn’t move until Bríd showed her face over the hills and brought the hunt to an end, perhaps with a smile, more likely with a frown at the horrible incompetence of the so-called Hunters. Eight hours they’d had to find the Phantom Stag. Nothing. They were a disgrace to the Foresters.

She had been looking at the main part of the forest, rising gently across the valley. The flash of Lux over to the left took her by surprise, and she gasped. So much magick. That could not be a good omen.

She turned to look at the source, well away to the south west and somewhere near Home Wood. She opened her Sight and saw a rising plume of Lux, a spirit dissipating and blowing away. That was some Stag indeed.

And then she heard the horn. Not the notes of a clean kill but the repeated blasts of distress. On and on they blared.

By her side, Tanya struggled to her feet. The Priestess turned to her handmaiden and said, ‘Quickly. Get me there as fast you can.’

Tanya lifted her skirts and jumped on to the quad bike, fumbling off her gloves as she reached for the ignition. The engine was roaring into life as the Priestess climbed more sedately onto the pillion. Neither woman bothered with helmets. Tanya flicked on the headlamps and set off across the field.

The lights picked out one of the Hunters in the meadow between Home Wood and the edge of the forest. The Priestess rose a little in her seat to peer over Tanya’s shoulder as they approached the scene. The Hunter was standing slack and slumped, the silent horn now lowered, and staring at something by his feet. Something large.

Something human. With a hunting arrow sticking out of its chest.

Tanya slowed and stopped. The Witches dismounted and stared. Not its chest – his chest. The dead man was heavily camouflaged, but there was no mistaking him. The standing Hunter was Colwyn, and at his feet was one of his rivals in tonight’s Royal Hunt. Ioan. The Priestess’s great nephew.

Tanya let out a whimper, chewing her knuckles.

‘What happened?’ snapped the Priestess to Colwyn.

‘The Stag,’ said Colwyn, half in a daze. ‘I shot the Phantom Stag.’

‘Clearly you didn’t.’

She heard a noise from the edge of the forest and saw a light bobbing towards them. She waited until the third Hunter, Aaron, had arrived.

‘In the name of Bríd, what’s happened?’ said Aaron when he’d seen the body.

‘The Stag,’ repeated Colwyn. ‘I shot the Phantom Stag.’

Tanya and Aaron looked at the Priestess. What happened next was up to her. She knelt down and touched Ioan’s body before turning to Tanya. ‘Get my phone and switch it on. It’s in the bag.’

‘Are you going out of the Circle?’ said Aaron.

‘Of course. If the Foresters are going to survive this, we need someone else to investigate. I’m calling in the Witchfinders.’

‘The King’s Watch? But Mack’s left the country. They’ll send Rick James. The Foresters will never speak to him.’

‘They’ll send the Dragonslayer,’ said the Priestess as she accepted the phone.

‘Why? How?’ said Tanya.

‘Because he’s a friend of my son, that’s the Why. The How is more difficult. The cost to me is going to be very high.’

She found a number in her phone and stabbed the green icon. Calling Chris appeared on the screen.

1

Captain Victoria Robson FGW MC KW RMP

At least, that’s what I think happened out in the Forest of Arden this morning. That’s what people told me happened. I wasn’t there. I was thirty miles away in Clerkswell and fast asleep in me bed.

I am not a morning person. Never have been, probably never will be. Besides, five o’clock isn’t morning in my book. More like the middle of the flipping night, though I do understand that other people think differently. One of them is Myfanwy.

I didn’t hear the hammering on the door. I didn’t hear her shouting my name. I didn’t hear anything until she came in and shook me. Credit her, she tried to be gentle.

‘Vicky! Wake up!’

‘Umngrr.’

‘Vicky! Wake up! I’ve got the Constable on the phone.’

By the gods, is that a huge pink bunny holding a phone?

‘Mngggrrr! Wha?’

‘Hannah. The Constable. Your boss.’

At that point, my conscious reflexes took over from my automatic ones, and I sort-of woke up. Sort of. The large fluffy shape by the bed turned into a blonde Druid and not a huge rabbit. She was still pink though. That dressing gown…

‘I knaa who she is, Myvvy.’

‘Yes, and she’s on the phone.’

‘No.’

‘Yes. Here.’

‘What time is it?’

‘Half past five.’

She held out her iPhone. At least she’d put call on mute. With some reluctance, I took it from her.

‘Put the kettle on, pet,’ I said, struggling to sit up. ‘And why did you wake me? Why not his lordship? And what was she doing ringing you in the first place?’

‘She said I wasn’t to wake Conrad until I’d given you the phone, and she called me because she knew you’d sleep through it if she rang you. I’ll be in the kitchen.’

I rubbed my eyes and unmuted the phone. ‘Ma’am?’

‘At last! I hope you feel like shit, because I do at this time in the morning.’

Good old Hannah. When it comes to suffering, she’s very much an equal opportunities employer.

‘Is everything all right, ma’am?’

‘No, and I’ll tell you why. You know that Cora’s only just come out of hospital?’

‘Aye. She’s not relapsed again, has she?’

‘I wouldn’t blame her if she did. Her poor husband is sleeping in the spare room and had her phone. He gets a call and has to wake her up. She rang me and now I’m passing it on to you.’

‘Right.’

I had no idea what she was on about. Cora is Cora Hardisty, Dean of the Invisible College and a Very Important Magickal Person. Also a very injured magickal person. I should know – I had held her hand while we waited for the ambulance and we had both tried not to stare at the metal spike sticking out of her abdomen. My mind wanders at the best of times. Half past five in the morning is not the best of times.

Hannah dragged me back to the present. ‘There’s been an incident in the Forest of Arden. One of the Foresters is dead and they’ve called us in to investigate.’

I sat up straight. ‘No way! They hate the King’s Watch. They still call us the Witchfinders, or so I’ve heard.’

‘They do. They tolerated Mack McKeever, but now he’s gone, and the Priestess has called in a favour.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. She called her son.’

I had no idea who the Priestess of the Arden Foresters might be, still less who her son was, and how come he had the Dean’s private mobile number.

‘Who’s he when he’s at home?’

‘Chris Kelly.’

‘Aah. I see.’ Chris Kelly is the Earth Master, professor of Geomancy and one of the big cheeses at Salomon’s House. He’s a really nice bloke, but sooo boring. He’s also a friend of Conrad’s.

Hannah gave a big sigh. ‘I doubt you do see, Vicky,’ she said. ‘Chris and his mother haven’t seen each other for years.’

I had no idea. Why should I?

‘Is that because she’s a Witch and he’s a professor of Quantum Magick?’ I asked.

‘They got over that years ago, and got over him changing his name. No, it’s his wife. His mother can’t stand her, and the feeling’s mutual.’

‘Ouch.’

‘Exactly,’ said Hannah. ‘I’ll text Conrad the location. Don’t hang about. You can have breakfast when you get there. Oh, and don’t let him mess it up.’

‘Am I not capable of messing it up on me own, ma’am?’

I was wasting my breath. She’d disconnected.

There was a light tap on the door.

‘Vic?’ said Conrad. ‘What’s all the racket, and why have I got a set of co-ordinates on my phone?’

‘Come in,’ I sighed.

I don’t mind Conrad seeing me with bed hair and no make-up. He’s seen me when I was both naked and dead, and you don’t get much more exposed than that.

He stuck his head round the door, and the rest of his great lanky body followed behind when he’d seen that I wasn’t armed. I have been known to attack people who disturb my beauty sleep.

‘We’ve got a case,’ I said. ‘In the Forest of Arden. We need to get a shift on.’

Conrad pulled his lip. It’s not so much that he’s a morning person, it’s more that he’s an ever-ready person. He was in the RAF for so long that he can switch himself on at a moment’s notice, day or night.

He nodded. ‘It’s nearly freezing outside, but it’s going to be hot later. I’d suggest layers.’

‘Yes, Uncle Conrad. Shall I lay me clothes out on the bed for you to check?’

He pulled his lip again. ‘I think I can trust you to get dressed on your own. I’ll go away now, shall I?’

If it wasn’t so early, I’d have chucked a pillow at him.

‘Swap?’ said Myfanwy when I got to the kitchen. She held out a slice of toast and a travel mug full of tea, and I swapped them for her phone.

Conrad had been down long enough to slurp an espresso and get a nicotine hit before I appeared. Men. They have it easy. He had a big map spread over the table and was staring at his phone. Other people, normal people, would have been staring at a map on their phone, but not Conrad. His phone doesn’t have GPS, or the Internet, or a camera. It doesn’t even do emojis when I text him. He says it’s to stop people tracking him. I’m not so sure.

‘Got it,’ he said. ‘Right. Let’s go.’

He folded the map carefully and slipped it in one of the enormous pockets of his Barbour, picked up his own travel mug and said goodbye to Myfanwy. He was out the door and expecting me to follow before I’d finished chewing one mouthful of toast.

Myfanwy gave me a kiss. ‘Take care, Vicky, love.’ Then she gave me a gentle push towards the door. Who needs enemies when you’ve got housemates like Myfanwy and Conrad? He already had the engine running and was de-misting the windows when I got round the front of the house. His house.

It’s a very nice house, of course. Big and old and comfy, and all that, but it’s not my house, nor even my parents’ house, and Conrad is my work partner, not my uncle. Myfanwy may be a friend, but she’s also part-prisoner and part-housekeeper. Neither of us are living in Conrad’s house by choice.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d start to wonder how I ended up in a guest bedroom in the middle of nowhere. Instead, I shivered. Conrad was right: it was bloody freezing out here.

‘What we got, Vic?’ he asked when we were racing along the A46 and I’d finished my toast. And a granola bar from the stash in the glove box.

I took a moment to relay what Hannah had told me about the death. I was keeping the business about Chris Kelly to myself for now.

‘That’s it?’ he said. ‘A death? That’s all we’ve got to go on?’

‘Aye. Obviously it’s suspicious, or they wouldn’t have called us in.’

He grunted. ‘What should I know about the Arden Foresters?’

‘It was started by a breakaway group from the Daughters of the Goddess sometime in the 1840s. It was one of the first Circles to admit men and women equally. Before that, all the mixed Circles had the men in charge. The Foresters were different from day one, and they’ve always been run by a Priestess with a man as her second in command. They thought it reflected ancient practices.’

He looked over at me. ‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘Is that all you know about them?’

Conrad thinks I keep things from him. I might have done, once, but not now. Not now it’s my life on the line, too.

‘Howay, man, they’re a closed group. You have to sign up to get in. I never met Mack McKeever before he tittled off to America, so how could I know anything about them unless I lived in the Esoteric Library? I know they’re very big in the Midlands, but that’s about it.’

‘Oh.’

‘And I know that they don’t like the Watch.’

‘Who does like the Watch? Don’t answer that, you might depress me with how short the list is.’

‘I know something else, too. The Priestess is your pal Chris’s mam.’

‘Chris Kelly?’ he asked, bemused.

‘Who else? She’s why we’re on the case. I don’t think she sees eye to eye with her son, though. Something to do with her daughter-in-law.’

There. Done. I thought I slipped that in quite subtly for me. He slowed down for a second, then raced past a milk tanker. It was the first thing we’d come across on the road, and at this speed we’d be there in … I hadn’t a clue. We were in the countryside, south of Birmingham, and that’s about all I could tell you. Conrad used to fly helicopters without an autopilot and can tell which way North is without a compass. Sometimes that skill is actually useful. I shut up and let him drive.

We bumped over a cattle grid, and Conrad pulled up next to a pair of black 4x4s. Definitely Mages.

‘Showtime, Vic. I’ll get my gear,’ he said.

I got out, too, and while Conrad fiddled with his arsenal in the back of the car, I soaked up the atmosphere. It wasn’t quite as cold out here, and the countryside was already giving off those smells that everyone gets so worked up about: cowshit, mostly. And then I stared.

I stared down the hill, where wisps of mist were hiding from the sun and a small stream cut through the grass like a bread knife through a warm cob. I stared across the grass, and I saw it. I saw the Forest of Arden. Wow.

Think of the greenest grass you can think of. Think of the perfect, pillowy shape of an oak tree in spring and multiply it by a thousand, by a hundred thousand oaks, ash, beech and elm, and every tree of an Old English forest, spreading away across the gentle hills. I let out a sigh.

‘What’s up, Vic?’

‘I never thought it could be so … perfect. Thanks for this, Conrad.’

He gave me that What have you been taking? look.

‘The forest,’ I said. ‘It’s beautiful.’

He turned and looked away from the forest and pointed at a scrappy piece of woodland on our side of the field. ‘That?’ he said. ‘That’s the Forest of Arden?’

I had a horrible feeling. I knew exactly what was coming next. I made a mighty effort to work it out: the sun was behind us, so that’s east. The forest must be…

‘Can you not see it?’ I asked. ‘Over there, to the north, running for miles.’

He sucked air through his teeth. ‘Nope. All I’m getting is a variety of arable fields and pastures, with some horticulture thrown in. Mostly arable, though. I take it there’s magick involved.’

Damn. This was going to be very complicated.

I lifted my arms in a gesture of defeat, just as a wisp of mist blew away and a group of Mages came into view. They were all clustered around something and arguing. The Forest of Arden could wait.

‘Come on,’ I said. ‘They’ve seen us.’

The Arden Foresters had set up base at a big black quad bike. There was even a camping stove on the go. The body was further along. I tried not to look. Yet.

There were six of them, and it didn’t take long to work out who was in charge, and not just because she was obviously Chris Kelly’s mam, based on her height.

She was wearing ceremonial robes of undyed wool, hitched away from the wet grass by a leather belt. The front of the topcoat was beautifully embroidered with an oak tree, acorns picked out in gold and surmounted by a small gold crown. Slightly more worrying were the small creatures flying around the tree. They were little sprites, not something you find in mundane nature. Another thing to worry about later.

Underneath the robes she wore leggings and walking shoes with thick socks. Sensible woman. Her hair, as you’d expect, was plaited into a Goddess Braid. So was mine, but there the similarity ends. The Priestess had obviously been out all night, yet looked fresh as the morning dew. Then again, she’d got dressed up first and not been dragged out of bed at half past five like I had. She looked a healthy, glowing sixty and her face was pointed, almost triangular. Handsome, you’d say. Scary is what I’d call her.

Standing behind the Priestess was a young woman, even younger than me, and also in robes. Her oak tree didn’t have the acorns or the crown. Or the sprites. She looked scared half to death, poor bairn. On either side of the Priestess were two couples, and I started to guess what this might be all about. The men were in camouflage hunting gear, all browns and greens and even camo paint on their faces. Two bows were propped against the bike.

The couple on the Priestess’s left were very much an item. She had her arm through his, both clutching him for support and acting as a shield; their faces were closed, defensive and aggressive at the same time.

The other couple were standing apart and showing very different emotions. The man was staring at the ground, slump-shouldered and in despair; the woman was bottling up a murderous amount of anger. Her arms were folded, and only just kept her from exploding. I could see her jaw quivering with rage well before we got close enough to speak. Even when everyone else turned to look at us, she never took her eyes off the lovers.

The Priestess lifted her chin and stepped forward to meet us. Conrad took the opportunity to put his foot straight in it. He’s good at that.

‘Ms Kelly,’ he said with a bow (he got that bit right). ‘I’m…’

‘I know who you are,’ said the Priestess with an air of disappointment. ‘I am not anything Kelly, let alone Ms. You may address me as Oma.’

His mouth twitched. Just enough for me to know that he’d come up with a joke. I held my breath.

‘Yes, Oma,’ he said, bowing again. I breathed out. ‘This is Watch Officer Robson, and I take it that this was no hunting accident?’

The Priestess made a face and turned to her flock. ‘Wait here while I talk to the Witchfinder … I mean, while I talk to the Dragonslayer.’

It’s great to feel wanted, isn’t it? I joined the King’s Watch especially for these moments of abuse, hostility and alienation.

She strode towards the body, robes swirling in a breeze she’d created for herself. When we’d crossed the thirty metres distance, she stopped and raised her arms. With a flick of her wrist, she wove a Work of magick and the dawn chorus died. Funny that, I hadn’t even noticed what a racket the birds were making until they stopped. Oma had put a Silence around us, and from the colour of the weave it looked like a ring – it blocked sound in and out, but we could still talk to each other. That’s hard. No way could I do a Work like that, and she barely broke sweat to do it.

I touched Conrad’s arm, and whispered, ‘Did you feel it?’ He shook his head. ‘We’re under a Silence.’ He nodded a quick nod, and we couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to look at him. The dead guy.

‘This is Ioan, my sister’s daughter’s child,’ said Oma.

‘We’re sorry for your loss,’ said Conrad. We all looked down. I’m glad she’d said his name. Much better than dead guy.

Ioan was dressed in camouflage gear, too, and there was another of those hunting bows tangled up with his arms in a heap. It was hard to tell under the black paste on his face, but he looked younger than the two men over by the quad bike. I’m telling you that because I’m trying to avoid talking about the bloody great arrow sticking out of his chest. I forced myself to look at it. Yes, it was an arrow. I looked away.

‘Tell us what happened,’ said Conrad. ‘Your presence suggests that this was more than just a bit of sport. Assume we know nothing about your Circle.’

‘Which you clearly don’t,’ said the Priestess. She looked at the Mages. ‘We need a new … King. Chief. Male leader. Call him what you will, but we haven’t had one for a few years now. We choose our King in the Royal Hunt. It was nearly over when this happened.’ She paused, and Conrad let her pause.

She pointed to the man on his own, the one who looked to be in shock. ‘That is Colwyn. The other Hunter is Aaron. Colwyn took up a waiting position, down there by the bushes. Three quarters of an hour before dawn, he saw a doe and the Royal Stag coming out of the forest, or he thought he did. When the shot hit, a huge Charm burst. I was on the hill, way over there, and I could see the flare of Lux clearly, so there’s no question about that.

‘We drove over as fast as we could, and when we got here we found Colwyn standing over Ioan. Someone had made a complex Charm and put it on Ioan, and did it so well that Colwyn really believed he was aiming at the Stag. The question is who.’

It was obvious that Ioan was lying where he’d fallen. I think someone had closed his eyes, but that’s it. Conrad turned round slowly, then said, ‘And where was Colwyn’s position?’

Oma pointed to a large bush, just behind the quad bike. ‘There.’

Conrad stared at the bush, and pointed to the scrappy woodland. ‘But the forest would have been behind him? That doesn’t stack up.’

He might have been talking RAF for all the Priestess understood him. I sighed both, inwardly and out loud.

‘I think there might be a problem, Oma,’ I said. ‘Watch Captain Clarke has a bit of a blind spot. He can’t see the forest.’

She looked at me as if I were insane. ‘Are you mad?’ she asked.

See? I told you she thought I was insane. Conrad was looking very confused. It was going to get worse.

‘I’m afraid not, ma’am. His strengths are more towards Geomancy than Sorcery.’

He grinned at the Priestess. ‘Yes, I’m no great Mage. Can we skip the abuse and move on? What’s this forest you’re both on about, assuming it’s not the nice little coppice over there?’

She wasn’t going to skip anything. ‘You can’t see the Forest of Arden when you’re standing next to it? How did you manage to slay a Dragon? That’s if it really was you.’ She turned to me. ‘Did you kill it and let the man take the credit?’

‘Oh no, ma’am. I was in an ambulance. He did that all on his own.’

‘With a lot of help in advance,’ said Conrad, smiling. ‘From your son. I couldn’t have done it without him.’

Damn. I’d hoped he’d forgotten about that.

The Priestess grunted, to show she’d heard him and wasn’t going to rise to the bait.

Conrad’s eyes flicked up the hill. There’s nothing wrong with his mundane vision. ‘We’ve got more company.’

He was right. Half a dozen more cars had arrived, and the occupants were getting out and doing a lot of pointing. At the quad bike, yes, but mostly at us.

‘The forest can wait,’ said the Priestess. ‘We must return Ioan to his family, so do what you have to quickly.’

‘Vic?’ said Conrad.

‘Aye?’

He frowned. ‘Do your thing. With the sPad.’

Oh dear. He was going to be in for more disappointment very soon. To keep him happy, I bent down, got my Focus out of my bag and turned it on. He calls it my sPad – Sorcerer’s iPad, I think he means. It’s my Focus, the Artefact I use to enhance my magickal sight, and it’s not much use on a dead body. Conrad thinks it’s some sort of Dr Who sonic screwdriver. I glanced at my sPad. Ooh. There was an email from my flatmate in Camden. She had forwarded the electric bill and wanted to know if I was OK, and was I ever coming back? I think that was her way of saying that she missed me. And my financial input.

I did look at the body, quickly, then I put out my hand for Conrad to help me up. ‘Cause of death was penetration by a sharp object,’ I said. ‘Probably the arrow sticking out his chest.’

‘Have a little respect!’ said the Priestess.

Conrad ignored her. I blushed. It was a bit tactless, I suppose, but I get like that near violent death. ‘Sorry,’ I muttered.

‘Nothing else?’ he said.

‘The Work on him disintegrated when it was struck by the enchanted arrow,’ I explained. ‘I can’t even see any residue of his Imprint. There’s not a trace of Lux anywhere.’

We really did have company now. More than two dozen Mages had formed a circle around us, and they’d been joined by the young Witch in robes and the angry woman. That left Colwyn, Aaron and his partner over by the bike.

How do Mages know that we’re the King’s Watch? We carry an enchanted Badge of Office that’s impossible to forge. Unfortunately, Conrad’s is stamped into the stock of a handgun. Drawing a gun on a crowd of Mages is not a good idea, even if it’s just to prove your identity, something Conrad didn’t need me to tell him.

‘I think you’d better vouch for us,’ he said to the Priestess. ‘But first, who were the women with you when we arrived?’

Oma pointed to the young Witch. ‘That’s Tanya, my handmaiden. She was with me all night. Over there, holding on to Aaron is his fiancée, Judith. The other one is Erin. She’s a friend and ally of Ioan. Was a friend. Erin and Judith were the boys’ sponsors. They saw them off into the forest at different locations and waited. They came here when they felt Ioan’s passing.’

‘Didn’t Colwyn have a sponsor?’ we asked.

‘Karina. No sign of her. She’s not answering her phone, either.’

The crowd was waiting. They had formed a loose circle, at a respectful distance. The circle was made of groups – friendship groups and family groups of two, three or four. Two women had already begun to comfort Erin. The Priestess checked her Braid and lowered her skirts to the ground, re-fastening the belt and adjusting her robes. She had an athletic top on underneath, and pushed up its sleeves out of sight. Finally, she raised her arms and cancelled the Silence.

We all took a couple of steps away from Ioan, and Oma spoke.

‘My children,’ she said, arms still raised. Her voice, freed from the damping effects of the Silence, boomed round the field.

There was a pause. A few of the Mages dropped to their knees. Tanya was the first. One by one the others followed. Oma didn’t repeat herself; she just waited. In the end, only Erin was left standing. That she was itching to speak was obvious.

The pause stretched out. How the Priestess kept her arms up like that, I don’t know.

Erin let out a low moan and dropped her head. Without looking up, she wheeled round and started running up the hill towards the gate and the parked cars.

I had to fight to stay standing myself. In situations like this, the Goddess Braid weighs heavily. I was wearing it as a mark of respect. Every other woman in the field was wearing it as a mark of dedication and worship.

Conrad didn’t kneel. He once told me that the King’s Watch only kneels for the King – or one of his family.

When Erin was away up the hill, Oma spoke again. ‘Blessings of the Goddess upon us. As she wills it, so mote it be.’

‘So mote it be,’ echoed the Circle.

‘This is a tragedy,’ she continued. ‘I did not see who did this, nor has the Goddess vouchsafed an answer to me. I will not have us torn apart. I will not settle this in blood. Here is the Dragonslayer. He has been touched by Odin and the Goddess both, and you can see that his partner wears the Braid. Let them pass in peace and be vessels of the Goddess, to take this burden from us as she wills it.’

No one spoke. No one got up either. Oma took that as a good sign and turned to us, lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘Go about your business. If you can.’ She raised her voice. ‘Tanya will be my voice and ears.’

The young Witch flinched, bringing her hand up to her mouth and staring at a woman behind us, on the other side of the circle. I turned to look and saw that not everyone had knelt. A heavily pregnant black woman was resting her hand on a man’s shoulder. Her bump was so huge that if she’d knelt down, it would have needed a team to get her up again.

‘Go, child,’ said the mother-to-be. She smiled. ‘There may be running involved, and I’m not doing that right now.’

Tanya got up and backed away from the circle, leaving a gap. That was our cue. Conrad turned and bowed to Oma.

‘Send someone you trust to search for Karina,’ he whispered. ‘She may be in danger.’

Oma nodded, and we followed Tanya out of the circle.

2

Conrad’s long legs quickly caught up with Tanya. I still can’t get used to how quickly he can move when he wants to, because most of the time he half limps. Today must be a good day for his bad leg, and I had to jog to catch up, and when I did, I unzipped my fleece. The sun was over the trees and Conrad was right. It would be a hot day.

‘How did they get here so quickly, and all together?’ he said to Tanya.

We were well away from the circle now. Tanya had led us in an arc, so we were out of earshot of the group by the quad bike, too. I glanced behind and saw that the circle had contracted until they were shoulder to shoulder around Oma and Ioan.

Tanya stopped and pushed some loose strands of hair away from her face. On closer inspection, she didn’t just seem younger than me (I’m twenty-three, in case you’d forgotten), she seemed barely out of adolescence. About nineteen. I was still an Aspirant to magick at her age.

‘Everyone was waiting at the Grove,’ she said. ‘It’s just west of Henley in Arden. They were waiting to acclaim the new King. Erin sent a message to say what had happened. Oma tried to stop her, but …’

‘Mmm,’ said Conrad, pulling his lip. He was getting nicotine withdrawal. I could guess what was coming next. ‘Any chance of a cuppa? I think Colwyn could definitely do with one. And food if you’ve got it.’

Tanya smiled nervously and looked over at the Circle. ‘Do you mind if I take these off, sir?’ she said, pointing to her robes. She looked scared of him. I don’t blame her.

I moved over and felt the fabric. Thick wool, soft and heavy. ‘You must be boiling in there, pet,’ I said. ‘Sort yourself out and we’ll take a minute.’ I leaned in. ‘And don’t call him sir unless you’re in the Army. You’re not in the Army are you?’

She snorted with laughter. That’s better.

We left her to sort herself out and get the stove going, and we drew back a bit. Conrad checked the breeze and stood downwind to light a cigarette. Colwyn, the one who’d shot Ioan, had slumped to the ground and was sitting hunched up, head in his hands. It was only then I realised that Judith had disappeared. I looked around frantically.

‘She’s coming back,’ said Conrad. ‘She’s been up to her car for something.’

He was right. Judith was up at the vehicles, talking to a man who was sitting astride a big motorbike and fastening a crash helmet. He’d be the search party for Karina. Judith touched him on the shoulder and he started the engine.

She jogged down the slope and handed a package to Aaron. He opened it and started to wipe the camouflage paint off his face. She had another packet of wipes with her, and she moved slowly over to Colwyn.

‘Do we think she’s going to get her story straight?’ said Conrad.

‘Why no, man. You’ve got such a suspicious mind. She’s just trying to be nice.’

‘Hmph. We’ll see.’

Judith tapped Colwyn on the shoulder and said something. He looked up and shook his head. She pointed at us and opened the packet of wipes. When Colwyn didn’t move, she steadied his head and started cleaning his face for him. They’d been an item once, I reckoned, and Aaron didn’t look too happy about it.

When she’d finished, she went back to Aaron, and he put his arm round her and kissed the top of her head. Men. Always trying to mark out their territory.

Tanya held up two plastic mugs and said, ‘Sugar?’

‘Not for us. Put two in Colwyn’s. He needs it.’

She spooned the sugar and added, ‘This is all I’ve got. Two giant Mars Bars.’

‘We’ll share one,’ said Conrad. ‘Give the other one to Colwyn with his tea.’

We blew the steam off the top of our mugs and took a sip. Boy, that was good. Conrad doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth and handed me the Mars Bar. ‘Enjoy.’

‘Cheers,’ I said and ripped the top off with my teeth. I was starving.

Conrad looked at Aaron and pointed to the hunting bows. ‘Which one’s yours?’ he asked.

‘The black one,’ said Aaron.

‘Thanks. You can sit over there, on that hillock. It looks dry and warm.’

Aaron and Judith moved away, and Conrad said, ‘Check the other bow, Vic, and tell me if there’s any magick in it. When you’ve finished chewing.’

Aaron’s bow – the black one – was all carbon fibre and flame detailing. It looked very similar to the one lying under Ioan. Probably top of the range in hunting circles. Colwyn’s looked a lot older and had more natural wood in it. I touched the string and ran my fingers down the curve of … ‘What’s this bit called?’ I asked.

‘The stave,’ said Conrad.

‘Right. Nothing on the string, and I’m not going to get much out of the stave. This has been sealed with a blessing. To get at the Works underneath, I’d have to unpick it.’

‘Fair enough. Right, let’s do it.’

He took the map out of his pocket and added his Barbour to the growing pile of clothes over the bike seat. I did the same with my fleece, and we crossed to Colwyn.

Judith had left him the packet of wipes and he’d finished the job himself before eating his Mars Bar. He looked up at us, and Conrad extended a hand. ‘Up you get, Colwyn.’

The Warlock accepted the hand and Conrad hauled him to his feet. Colwyn was definitely the oldest of the three Hunters, and looked the same age as Conrad (who’s thirty-seven). Conrad bent down and picked up the mug of tea. He handed it to Colwyn and said, ‘Watch Captain Clarke and Watch Officer Robson, here on the King’s Business and with the support of your Circle leader.’

Colwyn nodded and drank some tea.

Conrad continued. ‘Tell us everything that happened from the time you left the Grove last night until we got here. Take your time.’

Colwyn looked around, and quickly turned his eyes from the Circle of Mages. They were now holding hands, and the sound of prayers drifted over the grass. He turned to face the gate and said, ‘Is Karina here?’

‘Not yet. The guy on the bike’s gone to look for her.’

Colwyn nodded again. His voice had squeaked a bit when he spoke, and he cleared his throat. ‘The Hunters – Ioan, Aaron and me – we’d been on vigil in the Grove from dawn yesterday. We’d placed our bows on the altar at sunrise and waited all day. Long day it was. The Three and our sponsors came just before sunset.’

‘Three what?’ said Conrad. Oh no. Not again.

Colwyn gave him the look; I’ve seen it twice already today. It’s the look where the Mage is saying: how can you be a Watch Captain and not know that?

‘Oma, Eliza and Tanya,’ said Colwyn. ‘Who else would they be?’

I leaned up to whisper in Conrad’s ear. ‘It’s traditional. Oma is the old woman and Tanya’s the maiden. Eliza must be the pregnant lass who spoke up before.’

‘Right! Mother, maiden and crone,’ he said. ‘The Three. Got you.’

He scratched his nose and turned round. ‘Tanya!’

She jumped up from where she’d been leaning on the bike. ‘Yes, sir? I mean, yes, Dragonslayer?’

‘Nip over there and pull Eliza out, if you can. Ask her if any members of the Circle were missing when the news came through this morning.’

She looked nervously at the circle and set off slowly. Eliza looked like a nice woman. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind being interrupted. I couldn’t swear for the others, though. Tanya could look on it as a learning experience.

Colwyn pressed on with his story. ‘Our sponsors vouched for us before the Goddess and the Three blessed our bows as the sun went down. We split up then, and I got changed in the car. As soon as we could, Karina dropped me off, and I crossed into the forest.’

‘But not near here,’ said Conrad, avoiding the issue of the forest being invisible to him.

‘No. The last thing we did in the Grove was draw lots. The Goddess sent me to the Spernall station and way-marker.’

Conrad took out the map and unfolded it. ‘Show me where you were, and the others, if you don’t mind.’

Colwyn stared at the map as if it were in hieroglyphics. ‘Where are we now?’

‘Here. Just off the Wootton to Morton Bagot road.’

‘Haven’t you got a map of the forest? It’s easier to work out.’

‘Do your best.’

With Conrad’s help, Colwyn worked out four places on the map: the three stations for the Hunters and the viewing point where Tanya and Oma had waited. I didn’t pay much attention. Maps are Conrad’s department; I focused on the interaction between Tanya and Eliza.

I couldn’t hear, of course, but I could see Eliza put her arm round Tanya’s shoulder and whisper in her ear. Tanya said something back, and Eliza looked round the Circle. She thought for a moment, then said something that Tanya didn’t believe. I know that because she shook her head. Eliza said it again and shooed Tanya back in our direction. Tanya gave us a wide berth for now and started making tea for Aaron and Judith.

‘Good,’ said Conrad when they’d finished with the map. ‘This is Home Wood behind us, isn’t it?’ Colwyn nodded. ‘You were actually the furthest from Home Wood at the start. Why did you come here?’

‘I’d always planned to. It’s called Home Wood for a reason. If the Stag crosses that stream, they’re home free.’ He gave that rueful smile that blokes give when they’ve started to realise they’re not as young as they used to be. ‘I’m not the greatest Hunter, nor the fastest, and I haven’t got the stamina of the other two. But I am the best shot and I am the most patient. I reckoned that if I waited here, there was a good chance one of the others would flush him out.’

‘Him?’

‘The Stag. And it worked. Or so I thought.’ He sighed. I wondered for a second if he had the strength to go on. The poor bloke was starting to sway. I’d have sat him down, but Conrad just waited for him to continue with the story or fall over.

Colwyn took a deep breath. ‘About three quarters of an hour before dawn, I saw two lights in the forest. I waited until they broke cover and came towards me. I drew a bead on the first, then just in time I saw it was a doe. Pregnant. I nearly fired.’ He shuddered. He was showing more remorse at nearly shooting the doe than for actually shooting his comrade. ‘Then the Stag came out. It blazed. Magnificent. I’ve seen one before, you know, but even with all my Sight, I couldn’t tell that it wasn’t the real Stag.’

‘How did you know it wasn’t a big doe?’

Colwyn gave him the look again. ‘The antlers. What else would it be?’

It was Conrad’s turn to give Colwyn the look. ‘It’s May. Stags don’t have antlers in May.’

‘No, of course not, but we were hunting the Phantom Stag. A regular deer anointed by the Prince.’

I drew a sharp breath and interrupted. ‘The Prince of Arden?’

‘Yes,’ said Colwyn patiently.

I grabbed Conrad’s arm, something I rarely do. Usually I kick him to get his attention. ‘I think we should let Colwyn rest,’ I said. ‘Perhaps we can talk to Tanya next.’

‘Just one more question,’ said Conrad. ‘Has any Hunter ever died in the Royal Hunt before today?’

Colwyn shook his head. The weight of his answer overbalanced him, and I let go of Conrad to catch Colwyn as he fell.

We put Colwyn in the recovery position and left him. ‘We need to talk to Tanya before we talk to Aaron,’ I said, ‘and I don’t think you’re gonna like what we hear.’

‘I haven’t liked very much at all so far. I’m not sure it can get much worse.’

‘Believe me, it can.’

We glanced at the Circle. They were kneeling now, except for Oma and Eliza, who stood together in the centre. Right where Ioan was lying.

‘Do you want another cuppa?’ said Tanya.

I shook my head. ‘Maybe in a bit. Could you help us out, pet? We’re struggling here. We had no notice of this, obviously, otherwise we’d have done our … what did you call it, Conrad?’

‘Due diligence.’

‘Aye. Due diligence.’

Tanya looked impressed. She looked more impressed by Conrad than she did by me. She’s not the first.

‘How can I help?’ she said, nodding enthusiastically.

‘Tell us about the relationship between the Foresters and the Fae.’

Conrad has a good poker face. Mostly. I’ve known him long enough to work out his tells: when he needs a fag and he’s stressed, he pulls his lip; when he’s gobsmacked, he scratches his left ear. When I said the word Fae, he started going at his ear like he had fleas.

The Fae look human, sometimes act human, and most of the time pretend to be human, but they’re not human. Not at all. They lay eggs, for one thing. For another, they have wings when they hatch. They are also very powerful, and one of them was involved in a plot to blow us up not long ago. We’ve no idea who.

‘It’s mutually beneficial,’ said Tanya. What’s the betting she didn’t come up with that line on her own. ‘There’s been a coven of Witches here since forever.’ That sounded more like Tanya. ‘Until the business with Shakespeare and the Witchfinders.’

‘Shakespeare?’ said Conrad.

Tanya blushed. ‘It’s a long story.’ She looked at me. ‘I bet you were told differently in Solomon’s House.’

‘Aye, we were. Shall we stick to when the Foresters came on the scene?’

‘Yes. Of course. When the railways came, the forest was really under threat. The founding Foresters came down from Oxford and Glastonbury and made a treaty with the Prince of Arden. We act as conservators of the forest; in return, the Prince supports our Grove and blesses us with stuff. I mean, he anoints the Stags, for one thing. And during the Hunt, they keep the other animals out of the way.’

‘Other animals?’

‘Wild boar. The Fae love to hunt them. They also have a few Particulars. A talking lion. That sort of thing.’

Conrad was looking worried. I was probably looking worried, too. The Prince of Arden’s sídhe (his nest/mansion) was far too close to Conrad’s house for comfort. Then again, we had absolutely no evidence that this Fae was the one who’d tried to blow us up. Conrad was leaving this to me, and my gut said that what had happened last night in the forest was more human than Fae. Still, best to be sure.

‘Was the Prince or one of his nobles active in the Royal Hunt?’ I asked.

Tanya shook her head. ‘Only in anointing the Phantom Stag. After that, he retires underground and leaves the Hunters to it.’

I could hear Conrad breathe a sigh of relief, and he half turned to go and speak to Aaron. I wasn’t so sure we were ready. ‘Let’s get this straight, Tanya,’ I said. Conrad turned back. ‘Tell us why you have the Royal Hunt and what it means.’

‘Oh. Right. You don’t know?’

Conrad gave one of his smiles. ‘I’m more at home with Gnomes, Dwarves and Dragons. Underground stuff.’

‘I’ve never met one of the underground races,’ said Tanya. ‘Not sure I’d want to meet a Dragon, though.’

‘You wouldn’t.’

She made a vague gesture at the Circle. ‘Oma and Eliza are in charge of the group.’

‘And you, surely,’ said Conrad. ‘You’re one of the Three, aren’t you?’

She blushed again. ‘In theory. The handmaiden doesn’t always get listened to, especially in her first year, and I’ve only been doing it since the Equinox. Less than two months.’ She smiled quickly. ‘Handmaidens serve for three years, and you have to have been one to sponsor a Hunter.’

‘So Judith, Erin and Karina have all done it?’

‘That’s right.’

Conrad rubbed his jaw. He’d somehow managed to shave before we left. Blokes really do have it easy in an emergency. ‘So where does the King fit into the Circle, and why has there been a vacancy? How long?’

Tanya started to look uncomfortable. Our antennae started to twitch.

‘The last King died ages ago, before I was admitted to the Circle. When there’s no King, Oma appoints a Champion, but there can only be a change to our charter if there’s a King and he agrees to it. Oma said it was checks and ladders.’

‘Balances,’ I said. ‘Checks and balances.’

‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’

‘So why is there a Hunt now, and who wants to change the rules?’ I said. Conrad nodded.

Tanya looked down. ‘I can’t say. Oma and Eliza wouldn’t talk to me about it. I do know that we had the Hunt now because Colwyn petitioned for it and two thirds of the Circle voted in favour.’

We looked down at Colwyn. The poor bloke had gone to sleep. We wouldn’t get owt from him for a while.

‘Thank you, Tanya,’ said Conrad. ‘You’ve been most helpful.’ He looked at his watch. I checked my phone. It was a quarter past seven in the morning and it felt like mid-afternoon. My stomach made a huge rumble.

‘They’re moving,’ said Tanya.

The circle had broken up. Three men and a woman had picked up Ioan’s body and were carrying it up the slope towards the cars.

‘What now?’ I asked.

‘They’ll take him to the Grove and lay him out for the funeral. The actual cremation won’t be for a couple of days. We have to choose a tree and chop it down first. Oh, I forgot. You asked me to find out who was missing at the Grove. Eliza said that the only one missing was my mum, only she’s not here either, so it can’t be her.’

Conrad and I looked at each other. ‘What’s her name?’ he asked gently.

‘Alexandra. Everyone calls her Alex except me. She was Mother to the Circle before Eliza.’

She looked down when she said her mother’s name. ‘Have you been in touch?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. I tried texting her, but she hasn’t answered. Should I stay here or go with the Circle?’

Conrad took out a business card. ‘Text me Alexandra’s contact details. I think we should all go to the Grove. Can you bring sleeping beauty with you?’

‘Who?’

‘Colwyn.’

She looked at the Warlock and her hand went up to her mouth. ‘How can he sleep after … after what happened?’

‘Shock. Comes out in funny ways. We’ll follow behind Judith.’

Judith and Aaron were already on their feet and coming towards us. They were about to kick up a stink until Conrad said we were all going to Henley. Judith said she’d wait until all the other cars were gone, then lead the way. Aaron said something to her, and she unhooked a small Artefact from the chain round her neck.

‘You’ll need this,’ she said. ‘You won’t get through the Wards otherwise.’

I was expecting an oak tree, as worn by the Three on their robes. No. It was a little golden arrow. I couldn’t work out whether that was interesting or not.

Before we left to follow the Circle, Conrad lit a cigarette and said, ‘I know it’s been a couple of hours, but there’s one thing I need to know. Could you track the deer?’

‘I don’t know. Why is it important?’

‘Why was Ioan chasing it? He wouldn’t chase a doe, would he? I need to know if Colwyn’s telling the truth. Ioan could have been chasing the real Phantom Stag, in which case Colwyn is our killer. If Ioan wasn’t chasing the real Stag, then we’re looking at two substantial illusions: one on Ioan and one on the doe. Even then, it could still be Colwyn.’

I hadn’t thought of that. That’s why we’re a good team. Conrad is basically a sneaky sod; that’s the sort of thing he’d think of.

I looked at the sun and I looked at Home Wood. ‘Sorry, Conrad. Too late.’

He carefully put out his cigarette and went to pick up our coats. ‘You know the real reason I want to get to their Grove?’

He was smiling when he said it. That was a big clue. ‘You reckon they’ve got a feast there, don’t you?’

‘If I was going to be acclaimed King of the Arden Foresters, I’d expect a decent breakfast, wouldn’t you?’

3

We spent most of the journey updating the Boss on what had happened. Well, I did. Conrad focused on following Judith. Hannah’s advice was that we should be careful. I’ll give her this: she doesn’t interfere. Before I knew it, we were following Judith’s Land Rover down a farm track.

‘Watch out for Wards,’ I said. ‘I can feel the magick building.’

Conrad slowed the car, and the little Artefact started to pulse as we approached a pair of trees.

On the way down the lane, I’d seen a farmhouse and barn ahead of us. When we passed the trees, everything went dark for a second, then lit up again, and the farmhouse was replaced by a beautiful old manor house with a wood behind it. A large area in front of the house was already filled with vehicles.

‘Remind you of anything?’ said Conrad.

‘Miss Marple? Midsomer Murders?’

‘Have you never been to Stratford on Avon, Mary Arden’s House in particular?’

‘I’m guessing this has to do with Shakespeare, but no, never been to Stratford. Who’s Mary Arden when she’s at home?’

‘She was Shakespeare’s mother. We used to go every year from school. The half-timbering looks authentic enough to be from the period.’

‘Half-whatty?’

‘Half-timbering. All those bits of wood in the walls, see? That’s one way to build a house when you can’t afford bricks – put a wooden frame up and fill it with something cheaper. You’ll find them all over Germany.’

‘Wouldn’t know. Never been.’

Aaron was waiting, on his own in front of an open gate, and walked towards us when we’d parked up. I lowered the window. He looked the middle in age of the three Hunters (with Ioan being dead, it was hard to tell). He was wiry and built for speed rather than strength. Not my type, usually. Colwyn would have been worth a second look when he was younger, though.

Aaron looked shattered. ‘I’m denied the Grove, for some reason,’ he said. ‘Eliza told me it was a technicality. She asked me to take you into the hall and wait for them to finish the laying out. Same for Tanya and Colwyn.’

We followed him through the nail-studded front doors and straight into a big open space that went all the way to the roof. Very impressive. The same timbers that Conrad had been obsessed about featured on the upper walls inside (and were holding up the roof), but the bottom two metres of the inside was covered in dark panelling, just like great chunks of the  Invisible College. Unlike the Receiving Room at Salomon’s House, this wasn’t enchanted, so you didn’t have the sense of carved animals watching you all the time.

What their great hall lacked in creepy enchanted carvings, it made up for with heraldry. All round the wall hung coats of arms. Some were on shields, and mostly included stags, sometimes with lions, roses and other devices. They would be the Kings. The rest of the heraldry was on upright diamond shapes. If I remembered right, they would be the women’s arms, a line of Omas going back to Queen Victoria’s time. The building might be older than Shakespeare, but the Foresters were less than two hundred years old. Even the King’s Watch is older than that. A lot older.

One end wall had a gallery with a staircase up and doors underneath. The opposite end had an elaborate tapestry. I was going to study it further until my eyes were dragged away by my nose. A big, rough table filled the middle of the room and, aye, there was food. All three of us swallowed heavily as we salivated like a pack of Pavlov’s dogs. ‘I am so sorry,’ said Aaron. ‘I can’t offer you hospitality yet. Come through to the solar.’

‘Solar?’

‘Early modern conservatory,’ said Conrad, ‘but without the chintz furniture.’

Aaron managed a smile. ‘Sorry to disappoint. Up here.’

He led us up the staircase and through the minstrels’ gallery. Stools and instruments for proper minstrels were lying ready for music-making. Witches do like to party. The staircase carried up a bit further, into the top of the building and an open space with very non-Shakespearean Velux windows. And chintz. Lots of chintz. There wasn’t any heraldry up here, but there was a collection of quilts pinned up on the blank spaces. The lights weren’t on, so that put them in shadow, and I didn’t get to look at them properly. You can tell a lot about a group by its quilts, or that’s what me Granny says. Aaron collapsed on to a sofa and closed his eyes.

‘It’s a good job this isn’t a listed building,’ said Conrad. ‘You’d have to take those windows out for starters.’ Typical home-owner. More worried about the building than the view. Me? I was already looking out at the wood.

The sacred Grove of the Arden Foresters was formed out of the very top end of the forest itself. I felt the window frames – magick. There was something in the timbers that enhanced the view of the Forest of Arden. Conrad had joined me. ‘Is that south?’ I asked.

‘Yes. In Odin’s name, how is that possible?’

‘You can see it?’

‘I can. Just. It comes and goes.’

The Hall was at the top of a slope. As far as the eye could see, trees flowed away across the landscape we’d crossed on the way here – a landscape covered with fields, not a bloody great forest.

‘Do you remember me telling you that there is only one universe?’ I said, not taking my eyes off the sight in front of us.

‘Yes.’

‘You need to speak to your pal Chris about this. It’s one of the many strings to his bow.’

‘Vic! Poor choice of metaphor in the circumstances.’

‘Sorry.’ I waved my arm. ‘All these trees, they exist in the same physical space as the farmland, but they have a different energy level. Like ultra-violet light. They’re both real and not real at the same time.’

Conrad gave me a raised eyebrow. ‘Very helpful.’

‘I don’t really understand the theory.’

‘Do they have any physical reality? Do they soak up water, for example?’

‘A bit. A tiny bit. They definitely need sunshine. A Fae forest is a huge Collector. It filters Lux out of sunlight. This is the biggest in England. No human could create anything like this.’

Conrad glanced over his shoulder. ‘This is fascinating, but we’d better take Aaron’s statement before he falls asleep.’

We sat down opposite the Hunter, and he reluctantly opened his eyes. ‘You do realise I haven’t slept for twenty-four hours?’ he said.

‘We do,’ said Conrad. ‘We’ll be brief. Did you see any other Hunter, any other human, any Fae or any enchanted deer last night?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Or not that I know of. I did see a few does, but now I’ve heard Colwyn’s story, I can’t be sure I didn’t see the Stag in disguise, can I?’

Aaron had a pronounced Birmingham accent, more than any of the others we’d spoken to. Tanya had one, but much milder.

‘I was on the trail, though,’ he added. ‘Towards the end, I finally picked up the trail. The Phantom stag leaves a trail of Fae dust behind it, and I was on the trail when I heard the distress horn. I ran straight towards it, and when I got there, Oma and Tanya had already arrived. That’s it.’

‘Thank you,’ said Conrad. ‘Just for my notes, if you’d become King, would you have vetoed the changes?’

Aaron struggled upright. ‘You what? It’s me and Judith who want it changed. Who told you that?’

Interesting. Very interesting. Before Conrad could ask what the changes were, Tanya’s voice came up the stairs.

‘Dragonslayer? Aaron? Are you up there?’

‘We are.’

There was a stumbling and staggering on the staircase, and Colwyn weaved unsteadily into the room. He’d already taken his boots off and made a beeline for a dark corner where he collapsed onto a day bed. He was asleep before Tanya could get up the stairs. She was carrying two pillows, and put one carefully under Colwyn’s head. She offered the other one to Aaron, who took it gratefully and started unlacing his boots.

‘Any sign of Erin or Karina?’ he asked.

Tanya shook her head. Aaron grunted and lay down. I pity Judith: by the time we’d got back to the great hall, both Colwyn and Aaron were snoring. Poor bairn must be forced to sleep under a Silence. I’ve done it meself once or twice. I didn’t say that out loud, or Conrad would have started on about my love life again.

Tanya stood in front of the big table. Conrad, for some weird reason, looked underneath. ‘This is the original board,’ he said.

‘You sound like your dad,’ I replied. Alfred Clarke used to be an antiques dealer. Likes to pretend he still is when Mary isn’t around. Tanya just looked mystified.

‘Look, Vicky, trestles. When you’re not entertaining, you can collapse the table and put the board to one side.’

‘Looks like a load of planks to me.’

‘We get so many expressions from this set up,’ he continued. ‘Bed and board, chairman of the board, board and…’ I kicked him then. On his good leg.

See? I can be merciful.

‘Ow! What?’

‘I think Tanya has something to say.’

‘Erm, are you hungry?’ said the young Witch, not taking her eyes off Conrad.

‘You have no idea,’ I said.

‘Then eat and be welcome in our hall, as the Goddess wishes. I’d take your food through to Oma’s sitting room, if I were you, before the rest of the Circle come back.’

I left Conrad to issue the formal thanks and do the bowing thing. I already had the covers off half the plates before he’d finished. There was no hot food, but it all looked delicious: home cured ham, game pie, curried boiled eggs, potato salad, chunks of fresh bread. Lots of protein and carbs. Even thinking about it now makes me mouth water. I was on me second sausage roll before we got to the sitting room.

Conrad was much happier in Oma’s sitting room: no chintz. Tanya nipped out while I was still singing the praises of the game pie and feeling the depth of the cushions.

‘It’s a good job there’s no fire in here, or I’d be joining Aaron and Colwyn in the land of Nod,’ I said. ‘As it is, I may have to pop the button on me trousers.’

We both jumped when Tanya opened the door to the hall. A flood of sound washed in, a flood that had been held in check by an adapted Silence on the door. Handy when you’ve got work to do. Or private discussions to be held. Tanya had a big pot of coffee and three cups. ‘Oma will be with you shortly,’ she announced.

‘Time for a break,’ said Conrad, pouring himself half a cup of coffee and heading outside for a smoke. For half a second, I considered joining him. It was only the thought of standing up that put me off. Tanya followed him out and closed the door behind her.

If Conrad were in here, he’d be up and mooching around the pictures, opening the cupboards and sticking his nose into the nooks and crannies. Me, not so much. I closed my eyes instead.

‘Aah, the sleep of youth.’

‘Mnnh?’

I blinked and saw Oma leaning against the fireplace. How did she come in without me hearing?

‘Sorry, ma’am. Would you like coffee?’

Conrad and I had avoided the big armchair next to the fireplace. The embroidered cover with the Foresters’ sign and the gold crown was a bit of a giveaway. Oma lowered herself into it carefully and took a moment. ‘Yes please. That would be kind. It should be me offering to help, but … that was the worst thing I’ve had to do. Laying out one of our own when someone from the Circle has taken his life is not something that should happen.’

I poured her coffee, and one for myself. Conrad reappeared and topped up his own. When he came through the door, he’d started limping. That’s the only way you know he’s getting tired. He thanked Oma for the hospitality and made himself as comfy as he could, rubbing his leg and grimacing. When he does that, I try not to think of the scars.

He has a very good memory, does Conrad, so the notebook he got out was for effect. He made a couple of notes and said, ‘Tanya … Eliza … and? Are you Iris or Alice?’

What’s he on about now?

Oma said nothing. Conrad smiled at her. ‘Vicky doesn’t speak German, so she doesn’t know that Oma means Grandma. My grandmothers were Iris and Alice.’

‘Bridget,’ said Oma. ‘My given name was Bridget.’ She fixed Conrad with a look. ‘You’re going to ask, aren’t you? About my son? And about the changes to the charter.’

‘Yes to the charter.’

‘They’re connected. My son’s given name was Ruaidhrí. He should have learnt his Art here, not Salomon’s House.’

We waited. Oma moved a cushion behind her back. Then she stood up and said, ‘Excuse me.’ With a shuffle and shake, she worked off her robes and placed them on a window seat. She was suddenly a lot thinner and had an even stronger resemblance to Chris Kelly. She sat back down and drained her coffee. ‘That’s better. I hear you’ve been to the Grove at Lunar Hall. Both of you.’

‘We have.’

‘Mmm. Have you heard of Arianism?’

Conrad looked at me. I shrugged.

‘It was a heresy in the early Christian church. Very popular for centuries, especially in northern Europe. It left a legacy in the world of magick: Materianism. You won’t win any friends by talking about it. According to Ruaidhrí … I mean, Chris.’ She rubbed her temples. ‘According to my son, the texts on Materianism in the Esoteric Library are locked away. You need special permission to get at them.’

I shrugged again. Never heard of it.

‘In the world of magick, there was a group who believed that Mary was an aspect of the Great Goddess, and that Jesus was her son. They are the Materianists.’

‘Aah,’ said Conrad.

Eh?

He turned to me. ‘Do you remember that statue in the Grove at Lunar Hall?’

‘Aye. Athene, wasn’t it?’

‘On the surface. In the first moments after the Battle of Lunar Hall, when you were still outside the grounds, I saw it stripped of magick. Underneath, it was a statue of the Virgin Mary.’

‘And you didn’t think to mention that before now?’

It was his turn to shrug. ‘We weren’t proper partners then, and it was their secret.’

Fair enough, I suppose.

‘Quite,’ said Oma. ‘Materianists were doubly hounded – for being Witches and for denying the doctrines of Christianity. Very few survived. The founding Foresters included a group of Irish Materianists, from which I am descended, as is Aaron. Judith is a convert.’

‘But not Chris?’ said Conrad.

She shook her head. ‘This is all linked. I promise you. Ruaidhrí’s father was from another Circle. Ruaidhrí knew that James Kelly was his father from day one. James gave Ruaidhrí his second name – Chris. When he was a teenager, there was a big falling out. In a fit of teenage rebellion, he applied to the Invisible College and started calling himself Chris Kelly. He was perfectly entitled to do so, of course.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I said. ‘It must have hurt.’

‘It did. I’m glad he went through with it, though. He fits in to Salomon’s House in ways he never would have here. I am very proud of my son, no matter what he calls himself. Except for one thing.’

‘Your daughter in law?’

‘Precisely. I’d rather not talk about her, if you don’t mind.’

That was a relief.

‘I stopped being a Materianist when I became Circle Mother,’ said Oma. ‘It’s in the charter, and I was happy to let it go. That’s not enough for the younger generation. That and the rule on joining out.’

This time I actually knew what she was talking about. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ I said to Conrad. I did not want to have a discussion on the mating habits of Witches in front of Oma. He nodded.

‘To cut a long story short, Judith and Aaron want to allow joining in, and for the Circle Mother to have freedom of conscience. They have support. In due course, Aaron would have become King because he’s very, very good. I think that Colwyn forced the Royal Hunt before he got too old to do it.’

This time, Conrad made notes like he meant it. I leaned over to have a look, and this is what he’d written:

●                   Aaron – Materianist. Powerful Warlock.

●                   Judith – freedom of choice???

●                   Colwyn

●                   Ioan

●                   Erin

●                   Karina

●                   (Alex??)

Instead of asking Oma to fill in the list, he started on a tangent. ‘You said that Ioan is your great nephew. Are your sister and niece here?’

‘They are both Daughters, not Foresters, with a coven in Scotland. They, too, rejected Materianism, and wanted some distance.’ She looked hard at Conrad. ‘And yes, my sister may have wanted some distance from me.’

‘I know the feeling,’ he said.

‘Mmm. Ioan was the first Warlock in our family for generations and couldn’t stay with the Daughters once he’d reached puberty. He’s been here since he was eleven years old. It was his twenty-first birthday last month. I called my sister to break the news straight after I’d spoken to my son to ask for your assistance. Shall we go outside? It should be a bit quieter out there now.’

The thought of leaving Oma’s sofa was a challenge, but Conrad was on his feet and offering me a hand up before I could argue. ‘Can I …?’ I said.

‘Through the door to the left of the staircase,’ said Oma.

It was quiet in the hall. Eliza was sitting at the head of the table, in one of the few proper chairs. Everyone else had had to use benches. Tanya and another Witch were carrying stuff through to the kitchens, and that was it. Everyone else had gone. Eliza waited until I’d been to the Ladies before calling me over.

African hair does not go into a Goddess Braid easily. There’s a whole mountain of anger in the world of magick on that very topic. Eliza’s hair was defiantly, extravagantly big and bushy, but she’d  pulled it back with an undyed woollen skein, and what is wool, if not sheep’s hair? It was enchanted to mimic the patterns in a human Braid, and that’s why I’d not noticed when the Circle first arrived at the meadow this morning. It was a way of fitting in without compromising your identity.

My BFF, Desirée Haynes, is also of Afro-Caribbean heritage and she has her hair short or in cornrows. Then again, she is a confirmed Christian, not a Goddess-worshipper.

The Foresters have a special set of robes for their Circle Mother when she’s expecting. Eliza had put them on for the laying out ceremony and had taken them off after eating. They were folded neatly on the bench next to her; she looked hot enough without them, so goodness knows they must have been like a sweat box. Her dress was loose and green; at some point it had matched her eye shadow. Not so much any more.

‘I love your Braid, Mother,’ I said.

‘Thank you, child,’ she responded. ‘You look as tired as I feel. Oma and the Dragonslayer have gone outside; I think she’s going to have a relapse and cadge a cigarette from him, so I’d take the weight off your feet and join me until they’re done.’

Her accent matched her features – part Caribbean, part Birmingham. I pulled up a bench and sat down.

She sat back in her chair and rested her hands on her bump. There wasn’t really anywhere else to put them. She rested her eyes on me. I could feel her magickal Sight drifting over me, like butterfly wings.

To check me out like that would be considered beyond rude in the Invisible College and in every Circle I’ve visited, unless there were pressing reasons. Simple curiosity is not a pressing reason. I could have resisted, but I was intrigued.

‘There’s a gap,’ she said. ‘There’s a gap in your soul where you left the world for a moment. What brought you back?’

Interesting. She could see that I’d died – that my heart had been stopped by a homicidal Druid. Instead of asking how I’d died, she wanted to know how I’d come back.

‘He brought me back,’ I said, pointing outside. ‘With help, obviously.’

She chuckled. ‘Of course. He couldn’t have done it on his own, now could he?’

‘He’s full of surprises, is Uncle Conrad.’

Her eyes flicked outside and back again. Even more interesting. Either she hadn’t scoped out Conrad or she hadn’t been able to see his Imprint well enough to realise that we we’re not really related.

The smile on her face died a little. ‘You share a lot, don’t you?’ I took that as rhetorical. ‘Has anyone heard from Alexandra yet?’

What an odd question. Of all the things going on in the Circle, she picks on that.

‘No, Mother. Are you worried about her?’

‘It’s a bit more selfish than that. She’s my midwife, and I’m going to need her very soon.’ She patted her bump. ‘This boy’s already been trouble and he’s not going to make life easy for me. They should be finished with their smoking.’

I haven’t been dismissed like that in a long time. She didn’t actually say run along now, but you could hear it in her voice.

What I didn’t hear until I was nearly out of the door was a blessing. ‘Peace of the Goddess be on you, child.’

Conrad would have given her the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t. You don’t bless someone’s back.

The main path from the hall led straight to a wood – a real wood with real trees that was also part of the Forest of Arden. I wasn’t going to attempt to explain that to Conrad; his poor little head would burst.

The Foresters’ Grove would be in the middle, and in the middle of that would be Ioan. Conrad and Oma were coming out of a walled garden off to the side.

Before they got to me, they stopped and Conrad bowed to Oma. She gathered him in and kissed his cheek. He stayed put and she strode towards me. ‘There’s been a development,’ she said, grim faced. ‘Conrad will explain it all. If you decide to go ahead, you do so with my full support.’

Go ahead with what?

Before I could ask out loud, she reached forward and took my hands in hers. Her fingers were colder than I expected. Instead of a spoken blessing, calling on the Goddess, I got a quick burst of Lux and a picture in my head – a picture of two ash trees, their canopies mingling to form an arch. What’s that all about?

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, letting go of my hands. She quick-stepped back into the hall, and Conrad limped up to me.

He pointed to the walled garden. ‘Myfanwy would love to see their herbal garden. I wonder if Elvenham House will end up like that when she’s finished? This way.’

Before I could ask what was going on, he was heading round the side of the building and over to the car. When we’d got in, he shoved the key in the ignition and said, ‘Let’s get off the premises, shall we?’

Before he felt it was safe enough to talk, we weren’t just off the premises, we’d gone into Henley in Arden and parked up at the little railway station .

‘We have a problem,’ he said.

‘Really? I’d never have guessed.’

‘The Countess of Stratford called Bridget while she was showing me the gardens.’

Countess of Stratford? Where have I heard that name before? He saw the look on my face. ‘Oma said that she’s a Fae: the most powerful noble in the court of Arden. After the Prince, of course.’

This did not sound good. The Fae are quite happy with modern technology, when it suits them, but for a  Countess to make a personal call, something must be wrong.

Conrad drummed his fingers on the wheel. ‘Apparently, this has never happened before – an incomplete Hunt. Right now, there is an anointed Stag running round the forest. The Countess pointed out, politely but firmly, that the Hunters are still considered blessed, and the Prince expects them to finish the job. Tonight.’

‘Bugger me.’

‘Precisely. Can you help me see the forest?’

I could see where this was heading. ‘Perhaps. At night. With a suitable Artefact. And some practice.’

‘That would be a No, then.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Are you ready for this? On your own?’

‘Whaaat? You want me to go in there?’

‘You’re not a Watch Captain. You don’t have to.’

He left it there. Left it for me to come to my own decision. The Royal Hunt Part Two was tonight. We could probably get Rick James up here from Wells. He’d sort it out. If we didn’t, there could be further bloodshed, and the killer might get away with it.

‘Shall we call Rick?’ I said.

He shook his head. ‘Not an option, I’m afraid. The Circle don’t trust him, for some reason.’

Oh. Come on, Victoria, I said to myself. It’s not as if it’s underground, is it?

Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I imagine that Conrad has gone underground. Into the Old Network, down to a Dwarven Hall, something like that. And I imagine having to go down alone to rescue him, but I can’t. I literally can’t imagine putting one foot in front of the other and going through the opening.

‘Aye. I’ll do it. On one condition.’

‘You want me to cook you breakfast in the morning?’

‘Hell, no. That’s a given. I want you to give me your word. I want you to promise not to charge into the forest if you get worried. At night, with a Hunt on, the forest will be at its most powerful. For you, it would be like … running out of an Antarctic research station in your budgie smugglers. You’re gonna die, it’s just a question of how long it takes.’

‘I don’t possess any budgie smugglers. Is it really that bad?’

‘Worse. In Antarctica, it would be quick and fairly painless. In the forest...’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Mmm. So, what’s “joining out”?’

‘You wanna know that now?’

‘I want to know what’s at stake. Religious differences easily lead to violence, but I want the whole picture.’

I watched a pair of pensioners walking towards the footbridge to the other platform where they could catch their train to Birmingham and go for a nice day’s shopping in the Bull Ring. What a lovely thought. Wandering and mooching. I could pop the car door open and follow them…

My subconscious brain agreed, and I moved in the seat, half turning to the door. When I moved, I rustled. Too much quick-dry artificial fibre clothing and (almost) no makeup. I could not go shopping like this. When I die, tonight, in the forest, I will tell myself that it is a better fate than being caught on camera in rugged outdoor wear.

I sighed and got back on track. ‘You remember that fuss about Abbi Sayer’s dad?’

‘Deborah conceived by anonymous sperm donor. Yes, I remember. Oh, I see: joining as in coupling. Mating.’

I blushed. Well? So would you. ‘Aye. Witches want children, and there aren’t many Warlocks to go round. It happens almost everywhere. In mixed Circles, the joining out rule stops the men turning the Witches into a harem.’

Conrad looked appalled. ‘Is there no marriage in these places? No wonder Chris Kelly went to the Invisible College.’

‘Of course there’s marriage in the Circles, just not for the office holders.’

‘Right.’

‘So now you’ve got the big picture, what do you think?’

‘I think I’m glad I met Mina before all this magick business came along. Fair enough, Vic. I give you my word. I won’t enter the forest on my own. Now, what are our objectives, and what are the challenges?’

I hate it when he puts me on the spot like this. At least we didn’t have an audience. To keep him quiet, I said, ‘Stay alive is number one.’

‘Good. Glad to hear it.’

He opened the window and saw the look on my face. Rather than light up in the car, he got out and stretched his back. I had a minute to think this through before he leaned through the window and asked me again.

When he did, I was ready. ‘We’ve got a dead Mage. We have to find who put the Work of magick on those bows.’

‘We do,’ he replied. ‘I asked Oma Bridget, and she said that none of the Circle could have done it. They simply don’t have any Artificers who are that good. Someone brought those bows in, though, and used them.’

‘Right. We have three Witches unaccounted for: Erin, Karina and Alexandra. I spoke to Eliza, and she said that Alex is a midwife. I can’t see her being involved.’

‘I can’t see her as an actor, but she could be the Author.’

‘Eh?’

‘Someone cooked up this plan. I’m going to call them the Author. They may have used others as actors, but we have to find the Author, the one who dreamed it all up.’

‘I see what you mean.’ I paused to think that through. ‘Are there any of them you’d rule out?’

He crushed out his cigarette. ‘Erin. I think she’s a loose cannon, but you can’t fake that sort of rage. She defied Oma rather than shut up.’

‘Aye. That means any of them could be involved. Aaron, Judith, Colwyn, Karina, Alex… Plus any or all of the Mages who weren’t in the forest last night.’

He got back in the car. ‘Yes. I trust Oma, though. Completely.’

‘So do I.’

‘And I trust her to keep everyone else out of the forest. That will leave you in pole position to sort out who’s behind this.’

‘Good. What’s the plan?’

He started the engine. ‘Back to Clerkswell for some sleep. We’re both too tired to make plans.’

4

‘Why am I starting here?’ I asked.

The sun was kissing the tops of the trees to our right. The Hunt would begin as soon as it disappeared. Ahead of me, a small stone in the verge glowed silver. This was one of the entrances to the Forest of Arden, something that Conrad still couldn’t get his head round.

‘You tell me why we’re standing here,’ he said. ‘That looks like an impenetrable hawthorn hedge to me.’

‘No. Leave that to me. Why am I miles away from the action, not going in next to one of the other Hunters?’

He gave me a look. ‘Because it’s all downhill from here, and if you do what I said, you’ll sweep the area and won’t risk the action taking place behind you.’

‘Any last minute advice?’

‘Be very careful of men with asses’ heads.’

‘Howay, man. What are you on about?’

‘Doesn’t matter. This is your world, Vic, and you know what you’re doing. Trust yourself.’

It wasn’t my world at all. If anything, it was the Fae’s world, but I didn’t argue. The sun was behind the trees now, and I shivered. Conrad had made me bring extra layers and insisted on a rucksack. I’m glad. It was going to get very cold very quickly in there. Rather that than rain, though.

‘You’d better go,’ I said.

‘I’ll be waiting.’

Instead of a hug or a kiss, he saluted. It seemed right, somehow. I saluted back, and he turned away. When the rattle of the Volvo’s engine disappeared round the bend, it went very quiet. Above the trees, Venus was winking at me. Time to begin.

So, you’ll be wondering, how do you walk through an impenetrable hawthorn hedge? Or dry stone walls? Or cross roads with traffic without getting run over?

Simple: magick.

Less simple: Quantum Topology.

Totally not simple: solid matter is 99.9999999999996% empty space. You change the resonance of your atoms and just walk. It helps that a Fae forest has these enchanted way-markers.

I reached down and opened my magickal Sight. The glittering rock grew into a column of stone as real as the gateposts on Conrad’s house, except that Uncle C’s gateposts don’t glow like lighthouses. Starting at the bottom, I ran my hands up the marker, feeling the magick tingle through me as the light got stronger.

If any of you have noticed a phallic element in this procedure, you’d be spot on. That’s the Fae for you.

When I got to the top, the sparkling lights had spread up my arms and washed over my body. They were so bright that I couldn’t see anything except the marker stone. I let go and the light subsided. Instead of an impenetrable hawthorn hedge behind the stone, there was a pathway into the trees. A pathway into the Forest of Arden.

I jumped over the small ditch that marks the boundary of the forest and took a few steps down the path. It’s best not to linger too close to the edge: the Work that put me in harmony with the forest can wear off quite quickly, and it’s dangerous to do it twice.

Another question Conrad asked when I was telling him about it was, ‘How come you can see it from a distance but need to use these way-markers to go in?’

‘No idea,’ had been my answer. ‘Didn’t get that bit of the course, and it wasn’t part of the practical test.’

There is another way to get in to the forest – through a conjoined wood, like the Foresters’ sacred Grove. That wasn’t an option today.

I’ve been in enchanted woods before. The Daughters have one as part of their complex at Glastonbury, but it’s not on this scale. What does it look like? Like a mundane forest under very strong moonlight but even brighter.

We had a plan. Of sorts. This is what Conrad had written in his notebook after talking to Oma in the walled garden:

●                   Aaron – Materianist. Powerful Warlock.

●                   Judith – Freedom of choice??? Average Witch.

●                   Colwyn – Ambitious. Most powerful Mage of the whole group. Not noted for politics.

●                   Ioan – Eager. The outsider. Was not expected to win the Royal Hunt. Lots of raw talent.

●                   Erin – A close friend of Ioan. Aaron’s ex-girlfriend, supplanted by Judith. They broke up when Aaron became more religious. Wants to keep joining out as the policy. Explicitly blames Judith for what happened. Likely to be out for revenge. An apprentice Enscriber.

●                   Karina – Colwyn’s younger sister. Very, very quiet. Took a sabbatical after being handmaiden. Has performed little magick recently.

●                   Alex??) – Oma can’t believe she’s involved. Healer and midwife. Much loved by the women of the Circle, even Materianists. Has suggested that Materianists should leave and form their own Circle, but only as a way to avoid conflict. Tipped to replace Bridget as Oma.

‘I think Karina’s either in on it with Colwyn or she saw something and is in hiding,’ I had said after studying the notes. ‘My money is on Aaron, though. I think he knew perfectly well that there would be a re-run tonight. I think he got rid of Ioan to level the playing field.’

‘You could be right,’ said Conrad. He stared at the notebook again. ‘That would explain why it feels wrong – you’d think that Colwyn or Aaron himself would be the target otherwise. You know, Vic, I can’t help feeling that we’re missing something.’

‘We probably are. I can cheat, you know. I can find the Stag using Sorcery in ways they’re not allowed to.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I texted Desirée before I crashed out. There’s a copy of the Foresters’ charter in the Esoteric Library. I got her to look it up for me.’

‘Excellent. Sounds like a plan, then.’

And that was it: find the Stag and hope for the best. And try not to get killed. That’s always part of the plan.

Two stations further round the perimeter, Aaron would now be on his way into the forest. Judith was being watched by the guy on the motorbike to make sure she didn’t cross over. He is the former Champion of the Foresters and completely loyal to Oma.

With Judith under watch, there could be as many as five Mages in the forest with me: Aaron and Colwyn for sure, and any or all of Erin, Karina and Alex. Plus the normal forest dwellers, something I realised when I saw a gleam of golden light through the trees.

It’s always risky to leave the paths in an enchanted wood, but last night’s evil had been done off the path, and off the path I went. Very carefully.

Fae magick is silver, with rainbow highlights. Human magick is mostly primary colours, and Gnomes have a coppery tint. Gold means way up or way down. Dwarves give off a golden glow, but Dwarves do not hang around enchanted woods. That golden glow over there meant non-material: in other words, a Spirit.

I used the trees for cover, working slowly towards the glow; Conrad would have been proud of me, coming over all boy scout like that. I was about to peek round a huge oak when the Spirit moved, and I could see it clearly through a gap in the trees.

It looked human, or about as human as you can get when you’re wearing a monk’s habit with the hood up. Dæmons can look human, when they want to, but not when they think no one’s looking. That narrowed it down, but not by much. I tried to get a clearer view: monk’s habit is a bit generic. If I could see a sign or emblem, it might narrow it down further.

From somewhere out of my sight, he picked up a golden rake and started to draw it over the ground. What on earth? I couldn’t see them at first, but the tines on his rake collected small leaves of Lux, mostly silver, but other colours mixed in. I stepped round the tree to extend my Sight. Naturally, he spotted me straight away.

The golden monk stopped and turned to face me. He put the rake down and lifted his hands (normal fingers) and lowered the hood. I let out a deep breath when a normal looking old man stared back at me. He smiled, and beckoned me over. For the first time tonight, I asked myself what would Conrad do?

I could almost hear his posh voice in me head: I’d ask you what the Spirit was and proceed accordingly. He was right. I should have this.

Conrad had called the person behind all this madness The Author. This glowing figure was not going to be the Author. It just felt wrong. Whatever had led to Ioan’s death had human stamped all over it. This Spirit had once been human, but wasn’t now.

He beckoned again, and I came out from behind the security blanket of the oak tree and went up to him. He was shorter than I’d realised, and was about my height. He didn’t just look old: he looked like he’d had a hard life and that he wasn’t having an easy afterlife, either. Closer still, and I saw a cross hanging from a rope around his neck.

‘Well met, father,’ I said.

The monk pulled his robe further away from his neck, and I saw a gleaming silver chain, fine and delicate round his neck. Ooh. Nasty.

Enslavement of humans by magick has been illegal since the Dark Ages. Enslavement of Spirits is not illegal, and something the Fae have a bad rep for. I’m sure they also enslave humans when they can get away with it.

The monk opened and closed his mouth in silence, then pointed to the chain again. Worse and worse – the Fae had taken away his voice as well as his freedom. Not my business, not really, but this guy could be a witness. He touched his mouth with his hand and pointed at me, then held out his hands. He wanted me to give him a voice.

I made stag’s horn gestures with my fingers on my head and pointed around the forest. He nodded eagerly and smiled. No wonder he looked hard done by – the poor bloke only had half a dozen teeth.

‘I may regret this,’ I muttered. I closed the gap and knelt in front of him. He placed his hands on my shoulders and …

‘Ave Maria, gratia plena,

‘Dominus tecum.

‘Benedicta tu in mulieribus,

‘et benedictus fructus ventris tui…

The words flooded out of my mouth like a torrent. I couldn’t stop saying Hail Marys as fast as my lips would form them. I bucked and tried to break away, but his spectral hands pressed on the nerves in my shoulder and I couldn’t move. I felt it coming: the panic that takes over me when I’m underground or locked in a room with a spider…

‘Ave Maria, gratia plena…’

My head was bowed. I stopped trying to fight the words and let them flow for a second. There was peace in the rhythm, and the pressure on my nerves slackened enough for me to lift my head. The Spirit monk had his eyes closed, and he wasn’t using his Sight, either. Around his neck, the wooden cross had gone from a generic gold to jet black. Except at the edges. The arms of the cross had a brighter etching on them, as if someone were colouring them in. Another Hail Mary finished, and one more line was etched in.

I put two and two together and came up with an even bigger slice of evil. This monk had passed out of the mortal world on a promise: the Fae had promised him something in return for his service. This wasn’t slavery – it was bondage, and I bet the monk couldn’t tell the difference. And his service would last until he’d said a few thousands of Hail Marys and filled in the whole of his cross with etchings.

When you’re a Spirit, that’s no biggie. And then the Fae took his voice away.

‘Ave Maria, gratia plena…’

I don’t know much Latin. Enough to recognise a few key words of magick. What I needed was a three syllable word, preferably a name. Of course: Diana, goddess of the hunt.

‘Ave Diana, gratia plena…’

He didn’t notice the first time round. The next time, I said Diana a bit more forcefully, and he staggered back, letting go of my shoulders. Pain and sorrow washed over his face.

I moved towards him and lifted my hand. He flinched and covered his face, expecting me to strike.

‘Easy, father,’ I said. ‘I just want to bridge the collar. It won’t hurt.’

He backed into a tree. When I didn’t attack him, he slowly lowered his hands and gave me a pitiful look. I reached out and ran my finger over the Fae collar. There was no way I could take it off, nor would I want to (the Fae would not take kindly to that), but I could bridge it. I put my thumb below the collar and my forefinger above it, then I let the Lux flow up and down.

‘Try to speak,’ I said.

‘Ave Maria, gratia plena…’

I took my hand away and shook my head firmly. The pleading look came back, and he held up five fingers. I shook my head again and held up one. We compromised on two.

When he’d said his two Hail Marys, he went quiet.

‘Father?’ I said. ‘Have you seen the Stag? Did you see the Royal Hunt last night?’

He spoke. I’d tell you what he said, but I don’t speak mediæval Gaelic at all. Great. An Irish monk. Of course, in the last six hundred years, no one’s talked to him, so he hasn’t had a chance to pick up modern English.

I dropped my hand and started to play charades. Five minutes later, I figured out that, yes, he’d seen the Stag, but no, he’d run away from the Hunters. Marvellous.

I was about to head off when he came forward and touched my arm. He grabbed his rake and quickly heaped up a pile of leaves of Lux. I have no idea why the Fae wanted him wandering their forest doing this. It could be a crucial part of the magickal ecosystem, or it could be a pointless joke. That’s the Fae for you.

He rummaged in the pile and separated a few tiny silver acorns. He made the horns of a deer and pointed to the magickal seeds. Now that was worth knowing. He passed me the acorns and lifted his hand in blessing.

All the shenanigans with Father Patrick (which may or may not be his name) had cost me a lot of time. The Hunters would be well into the woods by now. I went back to the path and looked around. Father Patrick had mimed being frightened of the Hunters, and that gave me a clue. He wouldn’t be lingering in this part of the forest if the Hunt were nearby, so I made an executive decision: I was going much further in before I started a proper search. I shoved the silver acorns in my pocket and started a gentle jog through the wood. Don’t tell Conrad I was running; he might make me do it more often.

It was about this time that I realised that it was actually very quiet in here, compared to most forests (real or enchanted). I hoped that the Fae had remembered to round up the wild boar before sunset.

The path sloped down a bit, then twisted sharp left round a dense bit of matted undergrowth and tangled brambles. I’ll bet that corresponded to a mundane structure – a lambing shed or something rural. Because of the bend, I got no warning of what was round the corner.

She was sitting on a tree stump right next to the path, in a pool of silver light cast by her own hair. That’s just showing off, that is.

I’ve met the Fae in person before. There are always a couple knocking round Salomon’s House, for one thing, and they’re very popular as party guests, if you like seriously wild parties. Again, don’t tell Conrad, but everything you’ve heard about Fae anatomy is true. That was different. They were guests. On their best behaviour. Bound by the rules of hospitality. Not here, they’re not. This is their wood, their rules.

‘My lady,’ I said, bowing.

She giggled. ‘Well met by moonlight, my dear.’ She said it in a funny way, as if it meant something. No idea what.

I straightened up and took a good look (she was taking just as good a look at me). Her glowing, fine-spun hair was long, but not too long, and it managed to be both blond and silver at the same time. It was blond if you looked at the whole creature, silver if you looked at the hair. Her dress was one shouldered, long, and effortlessly satin in the way it clung where it needed to and draped where it didn’t. Her legs were crossed, and diamante strapped sandals showing off perfect toes completed her outfit. She was holding her knee with long, slender arms. I shivered all down my spine at the thought of exposed flesh on a night like this. Seeing a Fae on their home turf reminds you that they don’t feel the cold: they are the cold.

‘I am so loving the rambler-chic look that all the girls are going for tonight,’ she said with a toss of her hair. ‘Though I must say, it would have been nice to meet the Dragonslayer.’ As the light from her locks spread behind, I got a glimpse of a stocky male figure carrying a sword. That meant she was at least a couple of rungs up the hierarchy. Even more reason to be on my guard.

I ignored the comment about my appearance. I’ve heard a lot, lot worse. When she didn’t get a rise out of me, or a comment about Conrad’s absence, she stood up and rested her chin on her fingers. Her fingernails were blood red and pointed.

‘I am sent by our Prince,’ she announced. ‘The anointed of Nimue are welcome here, and we wish you well in your journey.’

The Fae will not utter the words The King’s Watch. They don’t accept our authority, but they don’t reject it either. To them, the Watch is the bodyguard of a Nymph called Nimue and not a police force.

In one sense, we are bodyguards, actually. Long story. Doesn’t matter. The Prince had gone out of his way to make it known that I had a free hand in here, and that was a relief.

‘Thank you, my lady,’ I said with another bow.

‘I also have a message for Oma Bridget. If this Stag is not taken by a Hunter tonight, there will be no Royal Hunt until the turn of another winter. We are not pleased by this.’

‘My lady.’

She considered me again. ‘You’d better hurry along before you miss the fun. Fare you well.’

I backed off and turned round. Then I ran.

I’d gotten off lightly back there. Only one insult, no dangerous illusions and no sexual propositions: just a message. She must have been under strict instructions, and she couldn’t have been more accommodating, which meant that the Prince wants this business over with as quickly as possible, and that holding me up wouldn’t have helped.

I kept jogging (again, the presence of the Fae Lady meant no Stag nearby), and what stopped me was a vibration on the thigh. Eh?

I pulled out my phone and checked. An enchanted wood is about as dead a dead zone as you can get for modern technology, so what was happening? On the screen was a message from Conrad: Can you get this? Any news?

It seems like years since the Battle of Lunar Hall. Just before the battle, I’d entangled our phones, and when he brought me back from the dead, we developed a magickal bond of some sort. Clearly, the bond was strong enough for his message to get through, somehow, because I was getting no mundane signal at all. I took a minute to text back: No luck so far. Met a Fae and got a free pass. They want it over tonight. No more Hunts for a year if not.

Conrad has an aversion to wishes of good luck. He text back: All quiet here. And that was it. Time to move things on.

‘Ow,’ I said when I put my phone back in my pocket: it had dug the silver acorns into my hip. Sharp little buggers. I took them out and was going to move them to a different pocket when I had an idea.

I left the path and found a space. With great care, I placed the five acorns at the points of a pentacle and took out my pick. Conrad’s Badge of Office is on a handgun; mine is on a little golden pickaxe, in honour of me dad’s time down the pit (and his father, and his father’s father etc.). What I was about to do was something I hadn’t tried since I took my final examination at the Invisible College.

I stood in the middle of the acorns and touched the pick to one of them. The golden pick trailed a thread of silver, like a spider’s web (ick), and I drew it from acorn to acorn, creating a pentacle of silver light. I wouldn’t have tried this without the Prince’s all clear – I was piggybacking off Fae magick here. That Lady and every other Fae who cared to look would know exactly what I was doing. I hope they’re impressed. I was.

When the pentacle was complete, I closed my eyes and let like call to like.

Little lights lit up around me, like stars in a dark sky. Crowns of them – ripening acorns on the branches of enchanted oaks, and carpets of them underneath. I turned round slowly to get a feel for the scale of the vision.

There were gaps, huge gaps of nothing then clusters of spectral oaks. I nearly turned round too quickly and forgot where I’d been, but one of the oaks had an extra glow. That was the tree these acorns had fallen from, so that was the way I’d come in. Turn round again and … Over there, to the right. A big group of oaks.

The Phantom Stag starts out as a real flesh-and-blood ruminant until the ghostly antlers lift it into the realm of the forest, like the way-marker had done for me, and a spectral animal needs sustenance. I imagine the acorns tasted delicious, and that cluster of oaks down there is exactly where a Stag would go looking for food.

The lights winked out. I’d overloaded the acorns and they’d evaporated, so I’d better not forget which way the oaks were. With a spring in my step, I set off up the slope of a hill in search of the Hunters or their prey. Either would do.

5

There wasn’t much to see until I got to the top of the hill and had to catch my breath. I’d been a bit keen up that hill, not that it was much of a hill by Conrad’s standards. I did get a better view from the top, though.

The Work I’d done with the acorns had given me enough of a sense of the oaks to try looking on my own now that I was closer. There. Down the other side of the hill. I was about to set off when a human figure appeared below me.  A mortal, Witch-shaped human figure, coming in from the right. Erin. Shit. I put on a Silence and started to run.

Erin was heading towards the cluster of oak trees and trying to look sneaky. She looked about as home in the woods as I did. With the Silence on me, she had no idea I was coming until I was nearly on top of her. She swung round … and lifted a shotgun.

I couldn’t help it. I hit the deck and rolled to the side. It was only when I hit a tree and the Silence broke that I cringed: not with fear, but mortal shame. My Ancile would have stopped the gun. Wait till Conrad hears about this. She didn’t even fire it.

Beyond the screen of oaks, I felt rather than heard the Stag take fright and run off. I got up just as Aaron detached himself from a tree. Bloody hell, I’d run right past him, and Erin had missed him, too. Not now, though. She’d been tracking me with the shotgun barrel; when Aaron appeared, she switched targets and brought the gun up to her shoulder. Aaron had no Ancile. Not allowed on hunts.

‘Stop!’ she shouted, but he was off in pursuit of the Stag, the stupid bloke. Who does that when there’s a mad woman with a shotgun? His only hope was for me to get between him and Erin.

I sprinted ahead and made it just in time for an arrow to whack into my Ancile from the left. What the hell?

Erin screamed, a roar of frustration, and charged after Aaron. I was right in the way, of course. She lifted the shotgun and went to take a swipe at me. My adrenaline was going now. I didn’t flinch this time. I used my magick to send a blast of air along the floor. It blew her feet from under her and sent her sprawling. The gun had a soft landing and didn’t go off, but it did fly out of her hand. Mine, I think.

‘Leave it,’ said a woman behind me.

A high-pitched voice. Totally unfamiliar to me, but not to Erin. ‘Karina!’ she said.

I did leave the gun, but I moved to put myself between Erin and the weapon before I turned round. The missing Witch, Colwyn’s sister and sponsor, was all in tight black combat gear and carried another of those bows with red flames licking along the stave. She was thin and wiry, her face almost gaunt with prominent cheekbones. She’d pulled her Braid right back, too, making her face look even tighter.

‘Who do you think you are, pet?’ I said. ‘Katniss Everdeen?’

Why did I have a go at her? She’d just tried to shoot me, that’s why. Conrad and I have that in common. We tend to get sarky when people shoot at us. She did look good, mind, if you go for that sort of thing, and a lot of blokes do.

‘I will have that Stag,’ she said. With the grace of a ballerina, she dropped to a squat and placed the bow gently on the ground. In one silky movement, she stood up, drew a knife and came at me.

I gave her the same blast that had floored Erin.

And it swept past her. Bugger. Hunters aren’t supposed to wear Anciles. They’re not supposed to be women, either. I started to retreat. Quickly.

The biggest danger was a tree root, and I swerved right to avoid it. Karina didn’t look as confident with the knife as she clearly was with the bow, and she knew that I had enough magick to fight back when she got close. If she didn’t kill me first. She got ready to take a run at me, moving to a half-crouch. I set myself to defend as if I knew what I was doing. We were both focused so hard on each other, we’d forgotten about Erin. And the gun.

Erin had put a Silence on herself, and must have used a Glamour, because neither Karina nor I knew she was there until she appeared at my side. The gun was pointing at Karina. ‘You bastard,’ said Erin. ‘You sneaky bastard. You killed Ioan.’

Karina went white (no camouflage makeup for her). She looked totally stricken.

‘This is gonna take some sorting out,’ I said and turned to my left. Conrad’s always on about priorities. ‘Give me the gun, Erin, before you make things worse.’

‘Ioan?’ squeaked Karina. ‘Ioan’s dead? He can’t be. I’ve just seen him!’

I ignored her and tried to channel my inner Vera Stanhope. ‘Erin? Let the Watch deal with this. C’mon, pet, give us the gun.’

We hadn’t got a good look at Erin when we arrived at the field this morning. She’d been wrapped up against the cold, and hadn’t stayed to be interviewed. She had a pleasant face, not striking or stunning, just open and wide-eyed with lovely fine blond hair. Much more my type, if I were into women, not that she looked very pleasant right now. She wasn’t holding the gun properly, and might break her wrist if she fired it. I saw the black smudges on her hands from her work as an Enscriber and shuddered. Last month, an Enscriber had tried to kill us. Several times. I’d bashed her head in with a metal crutch. That image still gives me the shakes. I forced myself to focus on the present.

‘Look at your fingers, Erin,’ I said. ‘Ink stains, not blood stains. Hand it over and help me out, eh?’

She held the gun out to me and looked away. I took it from her, and her shoulders slumped. It was my turn to stare at the gun. Conrad has run me through the basics of shotguns, just in case, but his shotguns are breech loaders. This was a pump action. ‘Is this even loaded?’ I said to Erin.

She perked up a bit. ‘Of course. And there’s one in the chamber. What are you going to do about her?’

We looked at Karina. She was wiping away tears. ‘Is Ioan really dead?’ she said.

‘Aye, he is. Colwyn shot him. That’s why we’re here.’

‘Who are you, anyway?’

‘A Witchfinder,’ said Erin. ‘There’s another one somewhere.’

‘Hey, less of that,’ I said as sharply as I could. ‘Oma called in the King’s Watch, and we’ll sort this out.’

Karina looked appalled. ‘No. No, no, no.’ She started backing away from us. From me. ‘I didn’t shoot to kill you. I was only going to tie you up.’

She was so light on her feet, she almost danced back to where she’d left her bow. There was no point trying to grab her, or shoot her. She fumbled her dagger, trying to sheathe it, and dropped it. She cursed and picked up her bow. Then she was off, a ghost slipping through the trees.

‘That bow,’ said Erin. ‘It was blessed.’

‘Eh?’

‘It had the same blessing as the other bows. Colwyn’s and Aaron’s. And Ioan’s.’

‘And it was identical to Aaron and Ioan’s.’

‘That model is one of the best for carrying on foot.’

A horrible thought ran through my head. Had we been set up by Oma? ‘Who did the blessing?’ I asked.

‘Eliza.’

‘Then Aaron is in serious danger. Serious, serious danger.’

‘Not now you’ve got the gun,’ said Erin. ‘I’ve failed Ioan, and Aaron will get away with it.’

‘It wasn’t Aaron you numpty. Or Judith. She’s under guard. It was Eliza and Colwyn, and maybe Karina, too.’

‘How come?’

‘Who else could have blessed Karina’s bow, and put a Work onto Ioan’s to make him look like the Stag. The reason Colwyn was in shock this morning was that he was expecting to have killed Aaron, not Ioan. Something must have gone wrong.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. Now, are you gonna help me or do I have to spend ten minutes tying you up?’

‘I’m no hunter. You probably noticed.’

‘Aye, well, neither am I, but I know someone who is.’ I put the gun down and got out my phone.

‘Wow!’ said Erin. ‘Does that work?’

I started typing and said, ‘It only works to Watch Captain Clarke’s phone. He … he’s outside the forest.’ I finished typing and sent this message: Karina has bow. Eliza cursed Ioans. Colwyn wants Aaron dead. Where would Stag hide?

Erin had picked up Karina’s dagger. ‘Do you want this?’

‘Shove it in my backpack for now. Never use another Mage’s weapons. King’s Watch 101.’

While Erin loosened the strings and stowed the knife, Conrad got back to me: A stag would hide in a dense thicket. Will also try to mask scent, or magick equivalent. I’ll look for Colwyn.

‘Right, Erin. Time to be useful,’ I said. ‘There must be lots of mundane buildings under this wood.’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘We want a big building that’s also a door to the Prince of Arden’s sídhe.’

‘Erm. Right. There’s half a dozen. Why?’

‘Because if the Stag gets in there, it’ll take ages for a human to flush it out.’

We needed some way to whittle down the options. ‘Forget about the ones near the way-markers. How many does that leave?’

She thought. ‘Three.’

Still too many. We needed better local knowledge. Perhaps Conrad could talk to Oma… No. He didn’t need to. She’d already given me a clue. ‘Does one of them have two ash trees bent to form a canopy?’

‘Yes! That’s the Countess of Stratford’s Door. How did you know?’

‘Never mind. Which way? And don’t tell me you’re lost.’

‘No. I love walking the forest. It’s about half a mile that way.’

I picked up the gun. ‘Does this thing have a safety catch?’

Erin knew that much. She locked it and we jogged through the forest.

I’ll admit it. We didn’t run very far. Both of us were out of breath pretty quick, so we settled for a brisk walk. I blame the stout outdoor walking shoes that Conrad made me buy: warm and rugged, but no good for running. Definitely the shoes. And the chafing. I will admit that there was chafing.

‘How close are Colwyn and Karina to each other?’ I asked, with lots of pauses to breathe. Erin was the same. We kept going, though.

‘Not very. Not until she came back from her sabbatical. He’s twenty years older than her, for one thing. Same father, different mother. They’ve definitely been hanging out more, lately. She’s so shy, though, it’s hard to tell who she’s close to.’

‘Where was her sabbatical?’

‘She never said. Down south, somewhere. May even have been abroad.’

‘And what’s with the midnight huntress thing? She’s not going to be King, no matter how many Stags she kills, is she?’

‘I have no idea what she’s up to, Watch Officer. Sorry. I don’t know your name.’

‘Robson. Vicky Robson.’

‘Sorry. Not everyone likes the Hunt. Some want it banned. Could be loads of agendas.’

‘Much further?’

Erin stopped and looked around. She squinted through the trees. ‘Down there, see? A blockage. That’s the back edge.’

‘Right. You stay here.’

‘What? With no Ancile and wait to get picked off? No chance. And you’ve got the gun, so I’m no threat. I can watch your back.’

For the second time, I asked myself what would Conrad do? Would he tie her up or let her tag along?  I’m sure I could hear him answer: Do you trust her? The thing that made my mind up was a bit less noble than Conrad’s question: I just didn’t fancy doing this on me own.

‘Come on, then,’ I said. ‘Keep quiet, keep down and keep your eyes open. We’ll skirt the thicket and look for traces of the hunters.’

‘Right. Gotcha.’

We crept up to the thick tangle of brambles and … rhododendrons? I don’t know. Whatever they were, they were big, bushy and in the way. I turned right and said, ‘You use your Sight, and I’ll watch for movement.’

Without thinking, Erin reached out to hold on to my arm. I nearly swung the gun at her, until I realised she’d closed her eyes and needed me to lead her. I moved off, scanning all round.

We’d got about a hundred yards (this thing was big) when she tightened her grip and pulled me to a stop.

‘Here,’ she said. ‘The Stag went in here. The trail has almost been washed away by Fae magick.’

We both used all our senses to scope the open woods and into the thicket. Nothing. No Hunter had followed the Stag into the undergrowth.

‘Do you fancy going in there? I don’t,’ said Erin. I had to agree with her.

‘Let’s cheat,’ I said. ‘If we work together, I reckon we can set a trap.’

‘How?’

‘Follow the Stag’s trail back a bit, then make a false one round to the front. We can meet them there.’

She looked at me blankly. ‘How do we do that?’

‘It’s not real scent, is it? It’s magick, and what can be analysed can be copied.’

‘Oh. Right. Did you learn that at Salomon’s House?’

‘Not as such. Let’s do it.’

Erin showed me the trail. It was easy enough to blow it away as we moved back into the main part of the forest. When we came to a fork, I stopped and we bent down to have a closer look at the trail of the Stag. We both opened our Sight and discovered something very quickly.

‘Eurgh,’ said Erin. ‘That stinks of wee. If you can duplicate that, you’re very weird.’

‘How is that possible? It should be a simple magickal echo.’

We looked up at the same moment and spoke at the same time. ‘The Fae.’

Erin sighed. ‘What now, Officer Robson?’

‘Get that dagger out of me backpack, and call me Vicky.’ She fumbled behind me and got out Erin’s knife. ‘There’s no Goddess death magick on that, is there?’

Erin looked at the dagger. ‘Not that I can see, besides, there’s no such thing as Goddess death magick.’

Despite rumours to the contrary, there is no such thing as blood magick, either. That’s not to say that blood isn’t magickal, though. It is. One of the first practical classes at Salomon’s House is How to Draw Blood Safely. ‘Cut me,’ I said to Erin.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Aye. Get a nice bladeful and smear it round. Then follow me.’

Now that we’d spoken a bit more, I reckoned that Erin was older than me. Twenty-five or six, perhaps. They must teach the same lessons in the Circles, because she drew blood from my left arm with practised ease and scooped a load on to the blade. I left her to it and jogged round the thicket, making sure I was dripping as I went. It sounds gross, I know, but being underground is far, far worse. To me, anyway.

I stopped when I saw the twin ash trees. The main track through the forest ran up to them, and through the arch I could see a silver path that would lead to the Fae door. Perfect. I dripped up to the trees and squeezed the wound closed. We also had classes on Stopping the Flow.

Erin caught up with me. ‘Let’s get behind the ash tree,’ I said. ‘We’ll have the drop on them.’

We moved into position. ‘Where’s the gun?’ I said.

‘You had it.’

I pointed to my arm. ‘I couldn’t carry it. I left it for you to bring.’

Erin didn’t answer. There was no point. Shit and damnation. Bugger. Arse.

‘Get ready to run,’ I said.

‘Why are you in here on your own?’ said Erin. I was beginning to wonder that myself. She deserved an answer, though.

‘Because Conrad can’t see the forest, that’s why.’

‘Oh.’

Erin went up in my estimation then, because a lot of people would have run screaming at that point. She did give me a look though.

We didn’t have long to wait.

Aaron had done the same thing as us – found the thicket and worked his way round, but he’d done it clockwise and came up from the left at the same moment that Karina followed the trail of my blood from the opposite direction. She’d also found the gun. Erin and I stood up as the two Hunters faced off.

‘Shall we try again?’ I said.

We made a triangle, about twenty metres a side, with Karina at one corner, Aaron another and Erin huddling next to me at the third.

‘Karina?’ said Aaron. ‘It is you. What the hell are you doing here, and what happened to Ioan?’

‘Let me…’ I tried to get the initiative, but they weren’t listening.

‘See?’ said Karina, holding out the shotgun. ‘Empty. And useless.’ She dropped the weapon and took out her bow. She notched an arrow and aimed at Aaron. He echoed her movements.

‘Aaron,’ I said. ‘She’s got an Ancile.’

‘What?’

‘She’s right,’ said Karina. ‘Put down the bow, Aaron, and break it. I’ll leave then.’

‘Just so that your dead beat brother can cheat and win the Hunt? No chance.’

‘Not Colwyn,’ said Karina. ‘Me. That Stag is mine.’

With slow precision, she drew back and loosed an arrow. I couldn’t follow it in flight, I just heard the low whoosh as it thudded into the ground between and behind Aaron’s feet, having passed through his legs on the way. It made me shiver, and I’m not a man. An arrow that close to their dangly bits would have made most men wince. There was another arrow in her bow before we could look up. ‘I mean it,’ said Karina. ‘Time is passing.’

Erin shoved me in the back and whispered, ‘You have to get between them.’

I started forwards.

‘Stop there,’ said Karina, ‘or he gets it now.’

Aaron was showing no signs of backing down. Idiot. Was he expecting me to pull a rabbit out of the hat? Fine. I spoke up. ‘Erin, go and knock on the Prince’s door. The Fae won’t be happy about this. They may not sort out these two, but they’ll pull the Hunt.’

Karina looked beside herself. ‘Don’t move, Erin. If you leave her side, I’ll have to stop you.’ She flashed the bow from Erin to Aaron. She could shoot both of them easily.

It was time to pass the buck to Conrad. In a manner of speaking. I took out my pickaxe and smeared it with some of my blood. Most Anciles are personal. With my blood, Erin should be able to work it. I took it from round my neck and gave it to her.

‘She’s going,’ I said. ‘And then I’m coming to arrest you. If you shoot me, you’ll have to answer to my partner. He’s waiting outside. You really don’t want that.’

‘So?’ said Karina.

Aaron finally lowered his bow. He didn’t drop it and break it, but it was a start.

‘You won’t know this,’ said Aaron, ‘but her boss is the Dragonslayer. If you hurt Officer Robson, he’ll track you down to the ends of the earth.’

‘Partner, not boss,’ I said. ‘He’s also a psycho. Dragonslaying is only part of it. The Allfather was once his patron. I wouldn’t put it past him to revive the Blood Eagle.’

‘No!’ said Erin, aghast. The Blood Eagle is so gruesome I’m not going into it here. You can look it up if you want.

‘I think he would,’ said Aaron.

‘I’ll take my chances,’ said Karina. ‘If Erin moves, you two will be dead and I’ll be after the Stag before the Fae have answered the door.’

Was she bluffing?

I’ll admit it: my nerve failed at that point. I was about to order Aaron to stand down when he heard something and looked away from us, deeper into the forest. Then Karina heard it, too. Finally, I picked out the sound of desperate running heading towards us. Surely that couldn’t be Conrad?

No. The approaching figure was definitely female. She ran into the space between Aaron and Karina then stopped, out of breath and leaning over to rest her hands on her knees. She had on a long parka, leggings and white sneakers. When she straightened up and turned to face me, her coat flapped back. Underneath was the royal blue of a nurse’s tunic. Oh.

‘Mutti!’ said Erin.

‘Alexandra, I presume.’ That was me.

‘Yes.’ She turned to Karina. ‘Stop it. Stop it now. You’re not going to shoot a Circle Mother, and you know you aren’t. In the name of the Goddess, desist.’

‘And you, Aaron,’ I said. ‘In the name of the King, put down your weapon or answer to the Cloister Court.’

Aaron put the arrow back in its quiver. As he unstrung his bow, he said, ‘Has it come to this, in Arden, that the word of the Witchfinders has more power than the Goddess?’

Karina let out a scream of frustration, anger and stress. She turned and aimed through the arch of trees, drew back her bow and fired. I jumped when a bass thud rumbled through the forest floor. ‘I’m coming back,’ she shouted at the archway. ‘Do you hear?’

I took my pickaxe back and moved quickly to Karina, but not as quickly as Alex. In seconds, Karina was sobbing on her shoulder.

‘Where’ve you been?’ I said to Alex. I know, I know. Priorities. That wasn’t the most important question, but I couldn’t help myself.

‘Delivering a baby. In Stratford on Avon. There were complications, and my phone battery died. My patient didn’t have a compatible charger. I only finished an hour ago, and Tanya told me what had happened.’

That was a pretty good alibi.

‘We’ll need to question Karina,’ I said.

‘Not now,’ said Alex. ‘She’s fragile. I’ll look after her and bring her to you at the Foresters’ hall. In the name of the Goddess, I promise it.’

‘So mote it be,’ I replied, ‘but we’ll need the bow. It’s evidence.’

Karina was out of it. Alex lowered her to the ground, taking the bow from her in the process. She handed the bow to me and put her arms round Karina. ‘Evidence of what?’ she said.

‘Of Eliza’s involvement in this mess. She’s the Author of this. Her and Colwyn.’

Alex looked down; Erin looked away. Neither disagreed with me, and that was pretty telling. It was Aaron who spoke up. ‘And now Colwyn will claim the Stag, become King and no one will be able to argue.’

‘I’ll be arguing,’ I said.

‘He’ll be exempt,’ said Erin. ‘Oma, the Mother and the King are exempt from justice in the Cloister Court. The King can only be tried by combat.’

I felt my phone vibrate and checked the message. ‘That’s moot,’ I said. ‘Watch Captain Clarke has Colwyn under arrest. Oh, and the Stag made it to Home Wood alive. Which is the quickest way out of here?’

6

It was all kicking off when we got back to the Foresters’ hall.

The car park was lit with a pair of halogen floodlights mounted on the hall; another feature that would upset Heritage England if they could see it. I got a tinge of magick – those floodlights were helping keep up the Occulting Works surrounding us. Clever, that. I made a mental note to tell the Royal Occulter about it.

The car park wasn’t nearly as full as this morning, and right next to the doors of the great hall was our trusty Volvo. Conrad had beaten us to it, and Colwyn was tied up in a corner inside. No one had been to dress his bloody nose or split lip. In the opposite corner, Judith was being guarded by the guy on the motorbike. I never did learn his name.

The hall looked even more spectacular at night. It was lit with Lightsticks placed in the roof beams and supplemented by a few round the wall. The light that came off them was warm and mellow, and echoed by a small fire burning in a huge fireplace. Eh? Where had that come from? Oh. The tapestry had been there this morning.

The hall has two sets of doors, one pair facing the car park where I’d just entered and the other pair leading to the wood, their sacred Grove and into the forest of Arden. Oma was standing in front of them, arms folded and wearing her robes and a look of thunder. About a dozen of the Circle were scattered around the room in groups.

I’d waited in the car park with Erin until first Aaron, then Alex and Karina had appeared. Karina looked stricken, as you might expect, but she’d recovered from total collapse. I led the way, and was about to say something when I heard a cry from upstairs that turned into a moan.

‘Eliza!’ said Alex. She dashed up the stairs towards the solar, leaving Karina to fend for herself.

‘Erin?’ I said, ‘Put Karina in that corner and keep an eye on her. Get someone to make her hot, sweet tea.’

‘Right.’

I left them to it and followed Alex up the stairs.

Eliza was in labour, and Tanya was holding her hand. Alex already had her coat off and was wiping her hands with sanitiser when I got there. Less expected was Conrad.

I’ve not been round many women in labour. Make that none, to be exact. I was starting to panic when Conrad got up and came over.

‘It’s early days, yet. Contractions have barely started,’ he said. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Aye. Since when are you an obstetrician?’

‘Twice in Helmand. Once in the back of my helicopter, would you believe. There’s a little boy in Afghanistan whose middle name is Conrad.’

‘Poor bairn.’

‘Take me to the Grove!’ shouted Eliza. ‘I will not be denied.’

I waved my hand around generally. ‘Why are we still here?’

‘When I arrived, Oma had already barred Eliza from leaving. Probably because of the text I sent her. Once Tanya heard that her mother was on her way back, the sensible thing was to wait for the real expert to turn up. And you, with the evidence.’

Alex finished her examination and came over. ‘She can’t stay here much longer. This is going to be difficult. She needs attention, in hospital or in the Grove.’

‘Let’s get her downstairs while we can,’ said Conrad. He stood well back while Alex and her daughter helped Eliza to her feet.

He bent down and lowered his voice. ‘Eliza admitted supplying Karina with a blessed bow, and putting a curse on Ioan’s. She says she had four bows on the altar and messed it up. Ioan’s bow should have gone to Aaron. She’s blaming Colwyn for coming up with the idea, though he had no idea about what his sister was up to regarding the Hunt. We can sort the rest out later.’

‘What now?’

‘Let’s see.’

Oma hadn’t moved from the door. A chair had been put in front of her, and Eliza had been lowered into it.

‘I demand the Grove,’ said Eliza, eyes locked on Oma. ‘I have confessed and will let the Goddess judge me.’

‘Watch Captain?’ said Oma. ‘Are you content?’

Conrad shook his head. ‘That’s not for me to say. Eliza is out of my jurisdiction, but will you be content if she doesn’t say who enchanted those bows? She may have blessed them, but someone else performed the curses and other magick. The King’s Watch is very interested in knowing who.’

‘Name them,’ said Oma. ‘Name them and I will stand aside.’

‘Would you turn me away?’ said Eliza. ‘No Oma has ever turned away a Mother from the Grove.’

‘And no Mother has ever killed one of the Circle. Name them or go. Forever.’

‘I will sit here until you let me pass or I die. Will you do that?’

Alexandra gripped Eliza’s shoulder. ‘Your child will die first. In your womb. I won’t let that happen. You were born to be a mother, so let the Goddess guide you.’

Eliza stared at Oma, and Oma stared back until Eliza was racked by a pain.

‘Take me,’ said Eliza.

Alexandra lifted Eliza out of the chair and said, ‘Someone get my coat from upstairs.’

‘Is it far to the maternity unit?’ I asked.

‘Alexandra Hospital in Redditch. Fifteen minutes max. We’ll be fine. Tanya? Go and get the car open. You’re driving.’

Alex’s daughter ran out. A Forester brought Alex’s coat. She shrugged it on and led Eliza outside. A couple of the Foresters got up to see them out. Through the open doors, I could hear Alex on the phone to the hospital.

‘Close the doors,’ said Oma. ‘Get out the board and let’s sit down.’

The Foresters moved with practised ease to get that table in place. OK, alright, the board. One of them handed out mugs of tea. Boy did that taste good. Conrad asked for a break and almost dragged me outside. While I went through what had happened in the forest, he smoked a cigarette.

‘What about you?’ I said. ‘Did Colwyn put up a fight?’

‘Stupid arse thought I wouldn’t use my gun on him and came at me. I whacked him with it.’

‘How did you find him?’

‘I thought about it. His strategy last night was basically good. Why wouldn’t he repeat it? I got Tanya to take me to Home Wood on her quad bike and there he was. We’d better get back inside.’

The Foresters were sitting at the board now, apart from Colwyn and Karina in their opposite corners. Seats had been left for Conrad and me next to Oma. She’d been sitting with her head in her hands, and looked up when we got back in. The strain on her face was there for everyone to see. ‘How did it come to this?’ she said. No one spoke, but a few of them looked as if they’d have plenty to say when the time was right. ‘I know you’re thinking it,’ she continued. ‘And yes, a lot of it has to be down to me. That’s for the future. When we’re alone. First, we have to decide what to do with Colwyn and Karina.’

‘And me,’ said Erin, in a very small voice.

‘The Watch has no interest in Erin,’ said Conrad. ‘Though we have confiscated her shotgun.’

‘It’s mine,’ said Aaron. ‘She took it without my permission.’

Oma waved him away with her hand. ‘Bring Colwyn here, Aaron.’

The Hunter dragged his rival over and shoved him into a chair off to the side.

‘Why, Colwyn?’ said Oma.

The Forester licked blood off his lip but said nothing.

‘Jealousy,’ said Conrad. ‘Jealousy of Aaron, I think. And Eliza worked on that. She wanted Aaron dead.’

‘How was that going to work?’ said one of the female Foresters.

‘Eliza played them both,’ I said. ‘I’m guessing that she knew about Karina’s ambitions to be a Hunter, and she played her by giving her a bow and getting her in the forest. She would have needed a sponsor to help disguise the four bows on the altar and the switch she made. I’ve seen the bow staves now, and there was a double curse, I reckon. One made the Hunter with the cursed bow think that all deer were Stags, and the other made him look like a Stag to everyone else. It only went pear shaped because she mixed up the bows.’

‘Is that right?’ said Oma. Colwyn said nothing. Oma sighed. ‘Then let the Cloister Court decide. I…’

Colwyn sat up. ‘I confess and ask for service in the forest to repay my crimes.’ The words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, to stop Oma finishing what she was going to say.

‘Eh?’ I said.

Oma looked at Conrad. ‘He has that right. We will hand him over to the Fae, and they will put him to work. Thirty-two years he’ll be in there.’ She shuddered at the thought.

‘Better than the Undercroft,’ said Colwyn.

‘Say hello to Father Patrick,’ I said. ‘If you’re nice to him, you might get time off for good behaviour.’

‘Put him in the store room,’ said Oma, ‘and bring Karina forward.’

Karina was brought to the chair that Colwyn had just vacated. Her glossy black outfit looked right out of place in the homespun surroundings of the Foresters’ hall, and she made a half-hearted attempt to undo a webbing harness. When she couldn’t manage the fastenings with her shaking hands, she dropped into the chair.

Oma softened a little. She clearly trusted her current handmaiden, Tanya, implicitly, and her attitude to the former holders of the office was quite revealing. She had little patience with Erin, that was clear, and I can imagine that Erin would make a great friend but a terrible officer. Judith, she treated with a wary respect. Don’t forget, Judith had dumped Colwyn and displaced Erin in Aaron’s bed. Then she’d converted to Materianism. I wouldn’t trust her either.

Karina was different. She looked at her like you’d expect a granny to look at their favourite, most indulged granddaughter. She tentatively reached out a hand, then pulled it back when she saw me staring at her.

‘What were you trying to achieve, my dear?’ she said. ‘You need to tell me, and I’m afraid that Officers Clarke and Robson need to hear it. Victoria risked her life tonight.’

Karina sniffed. Erin reached into her pocket, found a clean tissue and passed it over. Whatever deadly weapons the midnight huntress had in her pouches, a hankie clearly hadn’t been part of the kit.

‘Equality,’ she said. ‘For women and men. This is the twenty-first century, Oma. Women should be allowed on the Hunt, and men shouldn’t be forced to win the Hunt to become King.’

The other Foresters couldn’t stay quiet any longer. One of the women (I think she’d had a small child with her this morning) said, ‘We shouldn’t be doing the Hunt at all.’

Another woman said, ‘At least she doesn’t want the men eligible to become Oma.’

‘Enough!’ said the current Oma.

It may be the twenty-first century outside, but large parts of the world of magick have barely moved on from the 1300s.

Oma turned to me. ‘Was Karina’s arrow aimed at you, Officer Robson?’

‘Conrad’s the ballistics expert, Oma, but it struck my Ancile quite high up. I’ve seen what a good shot she is, so no, I reckon it was aimed to scare me. We don’t know if she’d have killed me later though. She did threaten to do it. And Erin.’

‘Karina?’

The young Witch dropped her gaze and fiddled with the tissue. ‘I don’t know what came over me, Oma. I don’t know.’

‘I think I do,’ said Erin. ‘I think she would have shot Vicky, and me, but I also think she sniffed a bit too much Fae dust.’

Karina didn’t look happy at that, but she didn’t argue.

Oma nodded. She looked round her flock and gauged the mood. Finally, she drew herself up and said, ‘You have lost your way, my child, and you have lost touch with the Goddess. I want you to go on a pilgrimage to reconnect with her. On foot. From Glastonbury to Bríd’s Well in Ireland. If you return, I will welcome you with open arms. Your key, please.’ When she finished speaking, there were no murmurs of dissent.

Karina, with shaking hands, removed the small golden arrow from round her neck. Oh, that reminds me. I got out the one I’d been given and passed it over. Oma slid my key back to Judith, its rightful owner, while we waited for Karina to come to a decision.

She held up the little golden arrow and placed it carefully on the board. ‘As the Goddess wishes. I will leave at the next new moon.’

Conrad had been sitting very still up to now. Always a dangerous sign. He coughed and reached into his pocket to pull out a badge. Oh no.

‘Take this,’ he said, offering the badge to Karina. She was so shell-shocked, she took it. On one side is this logo:

And on the other side is Conrad’s mobile number. And mine. ‘When you’ve finished your pilgrimage, you could join the King’s Watch,’ he said with a smile. ‘We have full equality.’

Erin had been leaning over to look. ‘Ooh, can I have one?’ she said. ‘Not that I want to join the Watch or anything.’

Conrad put on a stern face. ‘Can you play cricket?’

‘I have no idea. Why?’

‘Clerkswell Ladies is recruiting. If you fancy it, give me a call.’ He gave her a smile and handed over a badge.

Oma cleared her throat. During the nonsense with Conrad and Erin, Karina had pocketed her badge. Interesting.

Oma gave me Karina’s key. ‘And you should have this, Officer Robson. You are welcome here, should you wish.’

‘In the name of the Goddess, thank you,’ I said. That was generous of her.

‘And I shall remit a fee to the Constable. Thank you, both of you, for this service. The Arden Foresters are very grateful. Sadly, Watch Captain Clarke, I cannot extend the same gift to you.’

‘Can I ask a question?’ said Karina, in the tiniest of voices. She was looking at Conrad. Oma nodded.

‘Watch Captain Clarke,’ said Karina, ‘your partner said you might inflict the Blood Eagle on me if I hurt her. Is that true?’

Conrad shook his head. ‘The Peculier Constable has a policy: the King’s Watch is part of the solution, not part of the problem. I can’t enforce the occult law if I break it, and performing the Blood Eagle would be huge breach, no matter how much you deserved it.’ Karina looked a little disappointed at that, which was quite alarming, but Conrad hadn’t finished. ‘What I’d do is this: I’d come down to your cell in the Undercroft every day and watch you disintegrate. With a bit of luck, I’d be there on the day you took your own life.’

Karina looked down and swallowed hard. I heard a couple of coughs from round the board.

‘And on that note…’ said Oma. She stood up, and we all followed. All except Karina. ‘Erin, the doors please.’

Oma escorted us to the threshold.

‘There is one thing,’ said Conrad. ‘If you would truly do me a service.’

‘I can’t deny you, after this,’ said Oma.

‘Then see your son.’

She snorted. ‘As you wish. May the Goddess guide you. Travel well.’

We bowed, and she returned to face the company of Foresters. Conrad went to the car, but I lingered when Erin waved me over as she closed the doors.

‘Is Conrad the coach of this cricket team?’ she asked with a nervous glance at our car.

Bloody typical. You can’t take him anywhere for Witches (and stable girls) hitting on him.

‘Assistant coach,’ I said. ‘His girlfriend is in the team, too. So’s his housekeeper. She’s a Druid. I think you’d like her.’

‘What, a real Druid Mage?’

‘Aye. A good one, too.’

‘What’s she doing in Gloucestershire, then, and why is she his housekeeper.’

‘That’s her story to tell. Ask her yourself.’

‘I might just do that. See you, Vicky.’

‘G’night, Erin.’

She closed the doors and I headed for the car.

7

‘Well done Vicky,’ said Conrad, as soon as we’d driven through the Wards around Foresters’ Hall. ‘You did a superb job in that forest. You should be proud of yourself.’

‘I am. I suppose. It was nice to be above ground for a change, but I’m not so keen to have another encounter with the Fae.’

‘Was it that bad?’

‘No, and that’s the worrying thing. She was under orders to be nice. There has to have been another agenda going on there. Talking of agendas, what the hell do you think Eliza was up to? She never expected to get away with that, surely?’

‘You’d think not. Talk it through, Vic, what was her preferred outcome?’

‘Aaron gets killed and Karina shoots the Stag.’

‘Which creates all sorts of chaos in the Circle, doesn’t it? Would Oma Bridget have called in the Watch if it hadn’t her nephew who got killed?’

I thought that one through. ‘She’s a bit harsh, but I didn’t see her playing favourites.’

‘Don’t forget, Aaron was very unpopular in some quarters. A lot would have been glad to see him dead, and Oma Bridget was more concerned to be impartial because Ioan was her nephew. She couldn’t have pointed the finger at anyone without being accused of bias by someone else. And we shouldn’t underestimate the chaos that would have been caused if Karina had killed the Stag. Your Fae friends would not be at all amused. If we hadn’t been called in, there would have been too many suspects for Eliza to be proved guilty beyond reasonable doubt.’

‘I suppose. We learnt a lot from Karina, didn’t we? And if she’d succeeded in killing the Stag, her testimony would never have come out.’

‘Yes. And there’s something else.’

I waited for him to go on, and when he didn’t, I looked up. It was starting to get light out there, and Conrad looked a bit troubled. ‘What’s up Uncle C?’

‘While you were in the forest, I talked to Tanya about all sorts of things, just trying to get gossip, really. She said that Eliza was a week overdue. I think that giving birth in the Grove was a top priority for her, but I’m scared to ask why.’

I sighed. ‘It can go on our list of unanswered questions, but I’ve a horrible feeling you’re right: I doubt we’ve heard the last from the Arden Foresters.’

It was almost dawn when we finally reached Clerkswell. I was dead on me feet, but I wasn’t going to let Conrad get away lightly. I was also famished, and he owed me a cooked breakfast. The noise of the car woke up Myfanwy, and she wasn’t going to miss a fry-up, either.

‘You know what I think you two should do,’ said Conrad when he’d tied on his apron.

‘Go on.’

‘Myvvy should pour Vicky a large glass of wine and you should both go through to the drawing room while I cook. Put your voice recorder on, Vic, and tell Myfanwy all about it. You can turn it into a story later. After all, you’re going to have to write the report.’

‘Fine. Can’t argue with that. C’mon, Myfanwy.’

And that’s why I’ve been telling you this story, not Conrad. He hasn’t seen what I’ve written, but I’m sure he’d want you to know that his cooked breakfasts are worth staying awake for.

I started typing it up a week later, and I’d just begun when he passed by and dropped a tatty old book on the table.

‘That might help,’ he said.

I lowered the lid on my laptop (to stop him peeking), and looked at the book. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. ‘Eh?’

‘My GCSE English set book. It’s got all my annotations in. Don’t worry, I had to rub out the obscene ones before the exam.’

‘Eurgh. Why will this help?’

He gave me his especially annoying smile, the one where he knows something that I don’t. ‘Read it and see.’

‘Nah. I’ll Google it later.’

I pushed the book away and he left me to it. The phone rang shortly after, and I never did get round to Googling the play, and now I’ve finished typing this up, it doesn’t seem worthwhile.

Vicky, Conrad and the King’s Watch will be returning in more novellas.

Author’s Note

I hope you enjoyed this short departure from the main story of Conrad’s journey through the King’s Watch, and I hope you enjoyed finding out what Vicky really thinks about some of the things they get up to.

This story is also important because if features our heroes’ first real encounter with the Fae. They will definitely be back.

I hope to write more of these parallel adventures to fit in with future instalments of the Watch – beginning with Nine of Wands.

The story for Nine of Wands takes place in several locations around England, and has a spin-off story for Conrad set in the East Riding of Yorkshire - Wings over Water.

As ever, thanks are due to the brilliant Rachel Lawston for designing the cover and to Anne for reading the first draft.

Finally, Phantom Stag is a lonely little story. Please cheer it up by writing a review on Amazon, Goodreads or anywhere. It makes a huge difference.

Until the next time,

Mark Hayden.