The Enchanted Writes Book One (11 page)

Instinctively she clutched her hairpin and
pulled it free. She pressed it close to her chest.

Brick watched her move with interest, then
cleared his throat. “They are also... indistinguishable from
ordinary humanity. While the fire witch or water witch will stay
close to the dark, to the shadows, and never come out, a King and
Queen Witch are well-schooled in human behaviors. They can go
unnoticed amongst people, they can buy houses in suburbia, even
keep up the pretense of having a normal job and family....”

Wow. That was creepy.

A tumble of nerves jumbled in her gut,
sending sharp shivers climbing her back and shoulders.

“And not only do they command a great many
spells, but they can command other witches. They serve as a point
of organization. A King or Queen Witch can command a coven,
delegating tasks, building power.”

She kept pawing at her hairpin; it was the
only thing that could calm her.

“So, believe me when I say, Warrior Woman
Henrietta, you are not yet ready to fight a King Witch. However, if
the reports are correct, and one has moved into this town, then one
day you must address this threat. But not today.” Brick shook his
head with finality.

“But when? I mean, if this King Witch is
such a threat... shouldn't we address it as soon as we can?” She
wasn’t usually this proactive, but the very thought of this Witch
King gave her the creeps. She wouldn’t be able to sleep at night
knowing he was out there.

“When you are ready. There are still many
witches in this town of lower grade and skill, and it is upon these
that you must practice. But we will have the goal of one day
working up to the Witch King.” Brick lifted his chin, and his eyes
sparkled with determination.

“Witch King...” she said, but as she did,
she rubbed her hand too far down the hairpin, and cut her thumb
along the sharp side. With a yelp, she dropped it.

The hairpin landed on her bare floorboards,
just past her rug. She didn't immediately lean down to pluck it up,
which was a mistake. Within several seconds the wood began to
smoke.

Sucking on her thumb, she snapped down with
her good hand and grabbed it up.

She turned to Brick. “Just why the hell does
this hairpin burn wood?”

Brick shrugged. “I will be honest with you,
Warrior Woman Henrietta, I do not know. That hairpin is a
transformation wand of a warrior woman witch hunter. And I am a
warrior monk. The secrets of its design and use are not held with
my clan.”

Great. Another answer that didn’t answer
anything. “And another thing, now I come to think of it, if you
knew this burnt wood, then why didn't you warn me when you gave it
to me?”

Brick narrowed his eyes, his lips pressing
up, his face twisting around in confusion. “Sorry?”

“When you left this hairpin for me in that
manila package in the bathroom of Sizzle Cafe. If you knew that it
burnt any wood around it, then why the hell did you leave it so
close to the wooden door? And why didn't you warn me? Why didn't
you give it to me in person? I could have bloody well died that
day. It made the wooden door burst into flames.” Her eyes were
blazing.

“But I did warn you. Written on the inside
of the packet was a warning about the hairpin.” He looked entirely
unapologetic, and shot her a look that said she was
overreacting.

Well she wasn't bloody overreacting.

“This could have burnt my house down. Why
didn't you give it to me in person? Why did you bloody well leave
it in a manila packet tucked into the U bend of the toilet? What
would have happened if I hadn't found it?”

“But you did find it. And you didn't die. It
didn't burn down your house.”

Henrietta clutched her hands tighter. “You
are infuriating, Brick. I can't believe you are being so
unapologetic.”

Brick replied with another easy shrug.

She wanted to hit him. Instead she held onto
her hairpin and took an enormous breath. “And another thing, if
this hairpin burns wood, how come it seems to be okay when I'm
holding it? I mean, I understand that if it touches wood, it'll
singe within minutes or even seconds, but if it's even close to
wood it does the same. But I've been walking around all day long
next to a whole bunch of wooden benches, but nothing ever happened,
why?” She crossed her arms carefully, not wanting to stab herself
in the chest with the pin.

“Because you contain the magic.”

“What kind of an answer is that?” She glared
at him.

“The correct answer. Now, Warrior Woman
Henrietta, you have received your explanations. We must go to fight
the witches.” He pushed up from the bed, patted down his giant
billowing pants, and pulled his hat from his pocket, slamming it on
his head.

“Not so fast, Mister, you have left one
thing out. Just how old are you?”

“I have already located another fire witch,
and we must get to work before she can do anything we will
regret.”

“Seriously, how old are you?”

Brick nodded at the hairpin. “It is time to
write the word witch hunter in the air and to transform.”

“Brick, how old are you?”

No matter how many times she asked, he would
not answer. And soon enough she gave up and transformed.

Henrietta Gosling turned into a warrior
woman witch hunter, and then she followed the infuriating Brick out
the door.

It had been several weeks now. Henrietta
worked every single day, and every single night she went home to
find Brick playing with her dog, and then the two of them would
head out into the night and hunt down witches.

It was surreal, but with time she was
settling into it.

Weirdly, she wasn't that tired. Brick said
it was her magic, but Henrietta fancied there was another reason.
She’d never had direction before – she’d fallen from job to job,
house to house. She’d never had a sense of purpose, let alone
destiny.

Now here she was with an incredible
responsibility and power. She was finally doing something
meaningful with her life – saving the goddamn world.

She took a step back from the counter,
brought her arms up, stretched, and gave a yawn. It was Friday
afternoon, and the cafe was uncharacteristically quiet. A lot of
the other staff had gone home, but she’d offered to stay late. She
needed the money. Brick kept swanning into her house when she was
at work and eating all her food, and her grocery bill was now
astronomical. He kept promising to bring her some gold to repay his
debt, but he never did. Plus, he would probably bring her real
gold, and she would have no idea what to do with it. Could you go
down to the local jeweler, set a clump of gold on the counter, and
ask to exchange it for money? You'd likely go on some kind of list
or something, and you'd get a knock on the door from the
police.

Henrietta yawned again, bringing a hand up
and covering her mouth so she didn't show her tonsils to the whole
room.

It was around two o'clock, when she was on
her break, that she got a phone call. She hardly pressed the phone
to her ear before the screaming voice of her sister caused her to
yank it back.

Henrietta screwed up her face in fear and
self-pity.

“Where the hell have you been for the past
several weeks?” Marcia began, hardly taking a breath. “I've been
trying to contact you, I've left messages on your Facebook, and
I’ve sent several texts. What the hell is your problem?”

Henrietta pulled the receiver from her ear
again, twisting her lips into a pronounced grimace as she did. She
tried to take a steadying breath. “I've been busy, Marcia.”

“Busy?” There was a fairly obvious
derogatory tone to Marcia's voice. “Doing what exactly?”

Henrietta narrowed her eyes. Marcia had
never made any effort to hold herself back when it came to telling
Henrietta all her faults. Marcia thought Henrietta didn't try
enough, didn't take good care of her appearance, gave up too
easily, and was too shy around men.

“I asked you out to a double date three days
ago, but you never replied to my text.”

Henrietta rolled her eyes. That wouldn’t
have been the first time that Marcia had used Henrietta in order to
play two men off at the same time. Henrietta had been on plenty of
these so-called double dates. She would sit on one side of the
table, and both guys would sit around Marcia, with that glazed-eye
look and amazed expression that every single man on the planet got
around her. So of course Henrietta hadn’t jumped at the opportunity
when Marcia had offered it. Plus, Henrietta hadn’t even seen the
text, and she hadn’t hopped on the Internet for weeks. She didn't
have the time. When she wasn't working trying to keep Brick in
food, she was jolly well fighting the witches and trying to bring
peace to humanity.

But she held her tongue. “I'm sorry, look, I
really am; I haven't looked at my phone in several days.”

“
Well you are looking at it now, aren't
you?” Marcia asked, her voice wild. She was a drama queen. Every
single action, every single emotion, every single word, it was all
over the top. And somehow people loved Marcia for it.

Henrietta mumbled a yes.

“Good, because you aren’t getting out of
this one. I have a party tonight, and you are coming,” Marcia
commanded her, and it did sound as if there was no way Henrietta
was going to get out of this one.

But Henrietta didn't have the time to go to
parties; no doubt tonight she would be running around the streets
in her ridiculous outfit fighting witches. Plus, if Marcia's double
dates were bad, then her parties were worse. Not only would every
single eligible bachelor there be after Marcia, including some of
the non-eligible ones too, Marcia would trot Henrietta out and poke
fun at her. There would be baby photos, there would be stories
about all of the hilarious accidents Henrietta had gotten into as a
child, and it would go on and on all night. It would ruin
Henrietta's reputation even further; with every single one of
Marcia's parties she had ever attended, Henrietta had always wanted
to run away and join the circus afterwards.

“Marcia, I can’t, I'm busy—”

“So you're going to get here at 8:30?”
Marcia steam-rolled over her. “I would tell you to bring a date,
but—” she snorted, “never mind, just bring a bottle of wine. And
make it expensive.”

With that Marcia hung up.

Henrietta stood there and tried to remind
herself that Marcia was family and that she couldn't go around to
Marcia's house and throw a brick through the window. For all
Marcia's acting, for her terrible attitude to men, and for all the
embarrassing situations she had ever put Henrietta in, Marcia was
still Henrietta's sister. And when you stripped her back of all her
glamour and drama, she was nice and she was reliable. It was always
Marcia who came along to the hospital with Henrietta whenever she
had an accident, and it was usually Marcia who tried her hardest to
get Henrietta a job again after she'd been fired. She was reliable,
she was loving, but bloody oath there was a lot of drama that came
along with that.

The rest of the day dragged on slowly, but
eventually Henrietta found herself opening her front door, dumping
her bag on the ground, and giving an almighty sigh.

She walked into the kitchen, and she was not
at all surprised to find Brick with his head in the pantry, Barney
at his side.

Though Brick did not technically live with
her, he was around so much and had the uncomfortable knack of
letting himself in, that she should start charging him rent.

She cleared her throat as she walked into
the kitchen, pulling a chair out with her foot and sitting roughly
at the table. “Get your head out of the pantry. I don't get paid
until Friday, and I can't afford any more food.”

Brick turned to her, and he had a can of
baked beans in his hand, it was open, and he was using his fingers
to pick the sauce-coated beans out and plop them in his mouth.

It was disgusting.

She raised an eyebrow at him and then
clicked her tongue. “You better clean up after yourself.”

Brick finished off the beans and he smiled.
“Of course,” he assured her. He pulled open his jacket and shoved
the can into his pocket. And of course when he closed the jacket,
it was as if it was no longer there.

On several occasions Henrietta had asked
Brick exactly what was going on with his jacket. Was it magical?
Did it link to some kind of portal? But no matter how often she
asked, he never answered. He said it had to do with the many
mysteries of the warrior monk cast.

She pushed her lips up, scrunched her nose,
and shook her head at him. “Just use the bin,” she told him.

Brick didn't use the bin, and likely never
would, but at least he smiled at her. Then he walked over to the
kitchen table and sat down, that ubiquitous leather jacket of his
scrunching. Though she'd known him for a while now, she had never
seen him wearing anything other than the same scuffed boots,
jacket, and billowing clothes. Occasionally he would reach into his
magical pocket, pull out his hat, and tug it firmly onto his head.
But that was the only variation when it came to Brick's
wardrobe.

“So,” she leaned back in her chair and
tugged the hairpin from her hair, “who are we going after
tonight?”

Brick shook his head. “No one. There is no
witch activity to speak of at the moment.”

Henrietta frowned. She had started to get
into a routine here. It would be work during the day, and then it
would be hunting witches at night. While she did feel overworked,
now was not the night to have a holiday.

“I thought you would prefer to go to your
sister's party instead,” Brick said as Barney walked up to him,
barked, and demanded a pat.

“How the hell do you know about that?”