The Enchanted Writes Book One (19 page)

“Warrior Woman Henrietta Gosling,” the new
man nodded low to her.

She couldn't help but offer the same nod in
return.

“I usually just call her Warrior Woman
Henrietta, actually,” Brick pointed out easily.

“Really? Do you find shortening it makes it
easier to command her in battle?” The other man looked
interested.

Henrietta cleared her throat. She knew what
would happen if she let these two get deep into conversation: they
would never answer her question, and they would start talking about
the strangest of things. It would only take a minute or two until
they started discussing heels or the length of skirts. “What's
going on? Who are you?”

“Henrietta,” Brick turned to her and
gestured towards the man, “this is Warrior Monk Spanner.”

She'd opened her mouth, ready to say hello,
but she faulted on the word spanner.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Spanner
nodded low again.

Really, Spanner? This man's name was
Spanner? If Brick wasn't called, well, Brick, then Henrietta would
probably chuckle. But considering what was going on, she didn't
have the time. “Hello, Spanner, but seriously, guys, what is going
on?”

Spanner gave a nervous glance her way. “I
can see you are eager to acquire information so you can go into
battle and save humanity from the witches.”

“Something like that,” Henrietta conceded.
Now she was fully awake, and now the memory of last night was sharp
in her mind. The Witch King. The masquerade. “Do you know what's
happening yet?”

Spanner tugged down on his leather jacket,
then pressed a hand into his pocket and pulled out a poster. It was
rolled up, and it was large, easily a meter in length. Like
everything that Brick pulled out of his pockets, it was in pristine
condition and did not appear to be bent or scrunched in any
way.

Spanner unrolled the poster.

Henrietta took one look at it, then she
almost threw up.

Hellier. Witch King Hellier. It was the same
intensely handsome face. The same look. And though it sounded
impossible, Henrietta could swear that it felt like the picture of
him was looking at her with exactly the same interest that the real
man had bestowed upon her that one night she had met him.

“The information provided by the woman who
often blows her gasket, Marcia Gosling, is correct. Witch King
Hellier has organized a party. It is meant to be for charity,” he
added, making charity sound as sarcastic as he could.

“But...” she was about to ask how. How could
a Witch King organize a ball of all things? Then she remembered.
Unlike the other witches, who stayed to the shadows and enjoyed
their anonymity from the rest of humanity, the kings and queens of
the witches were different.

She looked at Brick expectantly, wanting him
to say that it was all a mistake, that Hellier couldn't possibly be
organizing a freaking masquerade, but Brick just shook his head and
grabbed the poster off Spanner.

“Though I have no evidence, I would wager
that this so-called charity ball will not, in fact, raise funds for
charity,” Brick said, his tone grave.

Of course it wouldn't raise money for
charity; a bloody witch king was involved. But what was Hellier's
plan? As a horrible shudder passed over her back, Henrietta forced
her gaze off the poster. “What is he going to do? Why would he do
something like this?”

“It depends.” Spanner shrugged. “He could be
planning on trapping everybody in the room and burning the place
down with a fire spell.”

“He could order up a tornado, and rip the
building down,” Brick suggested as he scratched at his neck.

Spanner clicked his fingers. “He could cast
an earthquake spell whilst the party was in full swing.”

Brick nodded. “He could cast a hole, and
swallow the building up with everyone inside.”

She stared at them in horror. The both of
them looked like two lads engaged in a thought experiment. “Are you
serious? Is that what he is going to do? Oh my god, we have to put
a stop to this! And how can the both of you be standing there and
suggesting these things so easily? This is horrible.”

Brick now turned to her, and he got that
expression on his face he always did when he felt like he had
something to teach her. “These are possibilities, admittedly, but
they are unlikely. It is my belief that either Witch King Hellier
is attempting to solidify his social status in the town, or he is
attempting to bring you out of the shadows.”

She turned her lips in and pressed her teeth
against them hard. “Bring me out of the shadows?”

Brick kept his gaze on her as he nodded.
“The Witch King is unlikely to go to all the effort of magically
disappearing everyone at that ball; while he would likely consider
it good fun, it would ultimately go against his ends. At this
stage, he is attempting to gather power, he is sending his witches
out at night to solidify his influence over the city. He would not
go to the extreme of killing off all the city's politicians and
elite; he would have uses for them yet. Until he is satisfied with
his power, or somehow finds a way to increase his influence, Witch
King Hellier will act, but he will do nothing so grandiose.”

She nodded, but it was an uneasy move. “So
you think he is after me then?”

“It is a possibility. But I feel the more
likely possibility is that he is simply trying to mingle.”

It was an odd choice of words, and if it had
been any other circumstance, Henrietta would have laughed at it.
The mental image of a witch king mingling with a bunch of
politicians over nibbles and wine was a comical one.

“If Witch King Hellier maneuvers himself
into power within the town, he will be able to use his position to
further his influence. There is word on the street that he is
attempting to run for mayor,” Spanner pointed out.

Brick swung to face him, his eyes blazing.
“No!?”

Spanner nodded. “Several warrior monk
brethren who work for the Council have confirmed this. It seems
likely that this charity function has been organized to further
that purpose.”

Though Spanner's admission calmed Henrietta
down a bit, it also made her nervous, but in a different way. The
prospect of Hellier organizing a party just to get to her sent the
tightest of fidgeting, frigid nerves shooting through her back. And
the prospect of him running for mayor and getting elected made her
throat dry and her hands wet with sweat.

“Whatever his desire, I suggest we act in a
way to upset his plans,” Spanner said with a nod.

Brick reached out a hand and patted Spanner
on the shoulder. “I agree, warrior monk brother.”

Henrietta looked at both of them and reached
a hand up to her hairpin. She wore it all the time now, and when
she was in bed, she held it in her hand. There wasn't a moment it
was off her person. Which not only meant it wasn't off burning down
the house, but also meant that she had it by her side in case she
needed to transform in a jiffy.

Now she clutched it closely to her
chest.

She had to stop him, the Witch King. And
yes, even thinking about him still made her nervous and sick, still
made her remember that horribly interested look he had given her
when he had invited her to come back with him to where ever he came
from.

“What do we do?” She pushed through her fear
and pushed her words out at the same time.

“This is obvious.” Brick nodded his head
low. “We go to the ball. We interrupt his plans. If he wishes to
mingle and gain the respect of the other people of this town, we
will cast aspersions against him and poison his punch.”

Henrietta screwed up her face at the
suggestion to poison his punch, but she got the general gist. Brick
was suggesting they head along to the party and do everything they
could to upset Hellier's plans.

“And if he is after me?” she asked through a
shaking voice.

“Ah, we run,” Brick noted with a shrug.

“Fast,” Spanner added.

“In the opposite direction,” Brick
qualified.

Henrietta pressed her eyes closed and kept
them shut for several seconds.

“Unfortunately there seems to be no other
way,” Brick assured her. “We must go to that party, figure out what
Hellier wants, and then we must react to it. Do not worry, Warrior
Woman Henrietta, I will mobilize the warrior monk brethren in this
town, and we will assist you.”

Henrietta opened one of her eyes to see
Spanner snapping her a salute.

“But if I go as a witch hunter, he is going
to know, he is going to come after me.” She swallowed.

“It is time to teach you a new spell,” Brick
said, and his eyes sparkled.

Spanner began to chuckle, but he also nodded
his head low, offering her another salute. “Warrior monk brother,
Witch Hunter,” he nodded at them both in turn, “I must go back to
my post. Text me if you need anything.”

Spanner backed off, offered another nod her
way, and then disappeared, without ever using the door to leave the
house.

Which just left her and Brick.

“Brick.... I don't know if I can go to that
party. What if he recognizes me? I barely got away the last time I
saw him.”

“He will not recognize you, Henrietta, and
you will not go dressed as a witch hunter.” Brick’s eyes were
sparkling again, and she had no idea what it meant.

“What do you mean I won't go as a witch
hunter? Then I won't have access to my magic.”

“There is much you do not know, and many
features of your magic you are yet to have learnt.” Brick started
to walk away from her, and as he did, he grabbed hold of her couch
and gave it a good shove into the corner.

“What are you doing with my furniture?”

“Pushing it out of the way so you don't
destroy it when you transform.” He moved over to the curtains and
tugged them shut, giving the street outside a wary look before he
did.

“What are you about to teach me, Brick?”
Henrietta's voice was uneasy.

“Style,” Brick answered, then he smiled, and
quite unusually for the warrior monk, it was cheeky and fat.

It was a week until the masquerade. It
seemed as if the entire city was buzzing over it. Nearly everyone
who came into Sizzle Cafe talked about it, and it was about the
only topic that could stop them chatting about Stiletto Girl. Even
Jimmy and Patrick had switched topics from Stiletto Girl’s nightly
activities to the upcoming ball.

It sounded like nearly every single man in
the city had asked Marcia to go with him, but as of yet, she hadn’t
accepted anyone's invitation. Every single night she would call and
ask if Brick had agreed to go with her yet. But Brick wasn’t going
to go with Marcia, because Brick was going with Henrietta.

With every single day that passed, Henrietta
felt steadily sicker, but she wasn't going to get out of this. She
had to go to the masquerade, because she had to find out what
Hellier was up to.

She wasn't sleeping well. She kept dreaming
of him.

“I am telling you, I saw a woman disappear,”
one of the construction workers sitting on a stool in front of
Henrietta's bench suddenly admitted to his friend.

Henrietta looked up sharply.

“But the police said they couldn't find
anything, there are no missing people, and nobody else saw it,” his
friend said.

The construction worker shook his head, and
his dark, stubble-covered skin looked sickly and pale. “I know what
I saw. She was just this little stick of a girl, wearing this torn
and dirty dress. And I'm telling you, I saw her jump down that
hole. Or maybe she fell, I don't know. But the point is, that hole
has got to be 10 meters deep. She would have broken her neck.”

“But nobody found anything, and nobody else
saw anything either,” the friend protested.

“I know what I saw.” The construction worker
waved one of his hands in a straight line, eventually letting it
bang onto the end of the bench lightly.

She had several coffees to make, but she
wasn't moving. In fact, it took Maria to come over and snap at her
before Henrietta pried herself away from the construction worker
and his conversation.

A witch. It had to be a witch. In fact, now
that Brick had set the other warrior monk brethren the task of
finding out what was going on at the construction site, it seemed
as if Henrietta's instinct had been confirmed.

It sounded as if there was a great deal of
magic emanating from that site, and, what was more, Henrietta had
been called to several witch sightings around that area. Brick was
convinced that the construction site must be sitting on top of a
coven, but as of yet he hadn't let her go down to investigate
it.

He was still protecting her, because, as he
told her at every single opportunity, she was still learning. She
was still training. And yes, of course, she still didn't have what
it would take to defeat the Witch King. Which was a problem,
considering she was meant to show up at his ball in a week’s
time.

The rest of Henrietta's day was a tense one,
and when she returned home to Brick that evening, she didn't get
any reprieve. She didn't have time to have a shower, or a bath, or
to conk out on the couch watching TV.

No, because Brick was teaching her about
style.

The man was adamant about it, fanatical
even, to Brick, style sounded like it was almost as important as
chicken.

Brick walked around her, prodding at the
dress. “This will not do,” he said with a disappointed sigh.

Henrietta looked down at the dress, and then
she looked over at the mirror she had hauled in from the bathroom
and had rested up against the couch.

To her mind, she looked incredible. The kind
of incredible that you didn't see outside of cartoons. Even people
in movies couldn’t look this good, because the way the lines of her
dress and the color and the form and everything worked together
wasn't possible in the real world.