Witch's Bell Book One (46 page)

She was going to end this
situation, rather than the situation finding a way to end her. She
was going to lift this Grimshore spell, drag the rotters to prison,
get back her friends, find a way to grow her magic until she could
break through her bracelets
– and then, well, she was going to win Nate, even
though that sounded like something the hero from a ‘50s b-grade
horror film would be trying to do. But it was true. She wanted to
fight off the bad guys and win the guy.

Clichés aside, that was all that Ebony
Bell really wanted.

Chapter 20

So here was what she had to do. Ebony
Bell had to find a way to break the Grimshore spell.

Ebony patted her hands on her skirt.
Let’s see, she thought to herself, what else? She had to somehow
get rid of the police and wizards trying to smash down her door to
grab back the gold. She had to arrest the Grimshores. She had to
get these darn bracelets off. And last, but not least, she had to
find out what Nate's secret was, and then, well, take things from
there.

Ebony swelled her chest, taking
in the deepest of breaths.
“Okay, Harry, we need a plan.”

“
Are you telling me we need to
think? You trotter, that's my line!” Some candy rolled out of the
bowl by Ebony's elbow and trundled along the table to the tune of
Harry's voice.

Ebony spied the bowl, grabbed
at a lurid purple lollipop, and pulled off the wrapper with a
tug.
“I
know. I get that now. But, seriously, this is the time,” she popped
the lollipop in her mouth and rolled it around for a bit. “So,
what's our plan?”

“
Blast them,” Harry said
triumphantly.

“
Yes, but that's an outcome, not
a plan. How do we get from being surrounded by police and
wizards—”

“
Nancy wizards,” Harry
clarified.

“
Whatever. How do we get from
being surrounded, to finding the Grimshores, taking their spell,
and smooshing it all in their faces? There's got to be some steps
here, Harry, and we'd better start taking them before those police
go and lease themselves a magical bazooka.”

“
Like I said, Ebony, I'm friends
with most of this street, if need be we can make our stand
here.”

“
Yes, but the Grimshores aren't
here, and their book isn't here, and neither are very likely to
come to us, are they?”

“
Hmm,” some thick dust-clouds
erupted off the top of a bookcase, “a good point.”

“
We need to be creative, Harry,
we need to be original. We need to do something the spell can't
contain – something fresh, something forthright, something
important.”

“
Atta girl.”

“
But what do we do? Where do we
concentrate our efforts? The Grimshores or the book? If I attack
the Grimshores head on, won't the spell just accelerate? But how do
I go about finding the book instead?”

“
Well, doing a location-spell is
out,” Harry mumbled. “If it's a magical creature that has that
book, we don't want them sniffing out our spell and knowing we're
after them.”

“
Hold on, maybe no one has the
book,” Ebony's voice pitched with excitement. “Maybe it's still at
the crypt!”

“
Ha, you think if those bozo
police officers had simply failed to retrieve it, that the
Grimshores wouldn't have crept back in and grabbed it after all the
heat had dissipated? No Ebony, my guess is someone has it. Not the
Grimshores, but someone.”

“
Great,” Ebony sighed, “but
who?”

“
Maybe that's the wrong question
to ask right now, kid. Let’s start with something easy, something
manageable. The Grimshores and the book aren't the only things
bothering you, are they? They aren't the only mysteries you want
solved.”

Ebony bit her lip, confused by
Harry's words. Right now the Grimshores and their horrendous spell
were the only things Ebony could think of
.... She stopped. No, that wasn't
entirely true, she told herself. She could think of Nate, for one.
The way he'd seemed unaffected by the Grimshore spell, but the way
he'd still viciously chased her out of the station. It had been
him, after all, that had brought her attention to the Grimshore
spell in the first place. If he hadn't pointed out to her that she
couldn't say a word against the Grimshores, then maybe she wouldn't
have gone against the spell and half of Vale wouldn't be after her
right now.

Ebony chewed on the edge of a
fingernail, not liking this train of thought. It had been Nate that
had saved her from the mugger the other night, just in the nick of
time. It had been Nate that had assured her the book had never been
recovered
....

“
What are you thinking, girl?
Fess up.”

“
Nathan,” she used his full
name, and it sounded so odd to her. But possibly because she felt
so odd about him at the moment. A swirling distrust was growing in
her stomach. A distrust that reacted with her feelings like
potassium reacting with water. She felt like her heart would just
blow up if she didn't do something soon.

“
Ha! I thought so, such a rotter
that one.”

“
No,” she protested
passionately. “He's not ... he's just.”

“
An enigma. A mystery. A
curiosity that must be investigated!” Harry's voice boomed. “I
agree, Ebony, I wholeheartedly agree. That boy of yours must be
investigated, there's something very odd about him,
indeed.”

“
He's,” she tried to form a
thought, but couldn't. What was Nate, really? He'd always seemed to
have a secret – something he kept from Ebony and the world,
something ensconced behind that mask of his.

“
A target for investigation,”
Harry declared. “And a good one.”

Ebony shrugged, feeling
incredibly conflicted.
“Okay,” she sniffed, “but how do we do that? I
can't very well go back to the police station to face him – they'll
likely shoot me, run me over, and then shoot me some
more.”

“
Ha, oh, I don't think you
should go find him, Ebony.”

“
What?” she shook her head,
confusion peaking her eyebrows. “But you said—”

“
Oh no, I say we go to his house
and look through his stuff. You know, do some detective work on the
Detective.”

“
We should go? Harry, you're a
building, how are you going to come along? I think the fuzz outside
are going to notice if you suddenly pull yourself from your
foundations and start walking down the street.”

“
Oh, silly girl, there's so much
you don't know about me. Really, you need to get more learning in
you – you haven't nearly enough,” a magazine by Ebony's feet
suddenly puffed open to reveal a man trundling along with a large
travel-case by his side. “I can travel; in fact, I'm very good at
it.”

“
I think you mean you could once
travel. You're attached to this building now, Harry. I may no
longer have magic – my magic may currently be contained, but even I
know that.”

“
You doubt the great Harry
Horseshoe? Do you have no sense of mind? I can travel, Ebony Bell,
because I have a traveling case.”

Ebony didn't reply, because that
little statement didn't deserve one.

“
It's upstairs,” there was a
tremendous thud from the mezzanine level, “and I'm already
packed.”

“
You are a spirit attached to a
bookstore, Harry,” she said, voice blank. “You're a bookstore. It
doesn't matter if you have a traveling case, you can't
travel!”

Harry didn't reply, and just for a
moment Ebony felt vindicated. Then whatever had fallen over
upstairs started to thump and bump with great
enthusiasm.

Ebony shook her head, heading
for the stairs. Then she took a sudden sniff, and ran up them with
all the speed she could muster.
“Harry, are they in?” she shouted. “Is
that the wizards?

She mounted the top of the stairs
carefully, staring around her with the quick, edgy movements of a
meerkat. There wasn't anyone up here, save for a large brown
traveling case that was currently dancing around on the floor as if
it were filled with hungry cats.

“
Harry?” she approached it
warily, still not sure it wasn't some curious trap from the wizards
outside. Maybe she'd get close enough and then a burly, hairy
wizard would spring out and wrestle her into a headlock.

“
Ha!” the traveling-case
suddenly said, its buckle moving like a mouth. “I told you I owned
a traveling case!” he gave another little dance. “I have now packed
myself inside and am now ready to travel.”

“
But,” she walked up to him now,
staring down at the curious case bumping around like a pinball in
an arcade machine, “you can't travel—”

“
Ebony Bell,” the buckle formed
a frown of sorts, “there are many things on this Earth, and in this
universe, that you do not understand. But if you stop to ask
questions of every curiosity you meet, you'll never get very far.
Now pick me up, girl, and let’s go and do some blasting together,”
the case gave a good wiggle on the word “blasting,” showing just
how enjoyable that concept was to Harry.

Ebony bent down and, after
giving the case a thorough looking-over, picked it up. It didn't
weigh a thing.
“Oh ... kay ... but—”

“
No buts! We go up the stairs,
onto the roof, and on with our plan.

“
But the store – and the
Wizard's Gold? I mean, shouldn't we take them with us?”

The case suddenly opened to
show the gold inside.
“Tastes like gold, funnily enough, and powerful
magic – spicy stuff. Probably give me indigestion.”

“
And it's a good idea to take it
with us, do you think?” Ebony found herself suddenly filled with
indecision. Okay, so she had a plan – but Harry tucking himself
into a traveling case had been a shock.

“
Oh yes. Valuable stuff, can't
be leaving it simply sitting around on the counter, can we? Plus,
never know when you need the Midas touch. Turning lead into gold is
quite a useful little ability.”

Ebony took a very deep
breath.
“Okay. But what about the store?”

“
Don't you worry about the
store, girl, there's still some of me left here. Plus, I've put
more hexes and blessings on this place than you've got clothes in
your wardrobe. I used to try out any new spell I'd learn on my
travels, or in my books, and pool them all around this store in one
epic-security-system of booby-traps. I tell you, I really wouldn't
want to break in,” the case bustled with laughter. “But it ought to
be fun watching someone else try.”

“
Okay,” Ebony steadied herself,
“then we can go.” She walked over to the second stairwell that led
up to the roof and then stopped. “Hold on, we don't even know where
he lives!” she realized with a sudden pang.

“
Oh, don't we? Did you forget
you so blithely loaned him my books? My precious little history
books on the criminal history of Vale? I've been to his house,
Ebony. Blast it – I've seen him eat! He'd sit at his ruddy table,
with a plate of toast and sardines, and pick up my books with his
oily little hands. Monster. Smelly monster,” Harry added with a
sniff.

Ebony shook with laughter at
that.
“I
never realized that you could transfer your consciousness to your
books,” she bit at her lip, not liking the idea that every single
book she'd ever sold had a packet of Harry's consciousness attached
– so he could leer at people as they snacked and read, or, heaven
forbid, read on the toilet.

“
And yet, there is more you do
not know about me. Not those silly little novels you get in for
your customers, Ebony. I'd rather burn myself down than extend my
Awareness to those. No, but the books of this store – my books –
well, they're part of me, aren't they?”

“
So, you've been to his house,
and you know how to get there?”

“
Oh yes,” the bag gave a little
kick, “and I'm going to enjoy going through that place like a
cyclone.”

“
If we're meant to be
detectives, Harry, then you ought to know they aren't known for
their cyclonic action. We have to be discrete.”

“
Discrete? Bah Humbug. Ebony, I
didn't see much of his house, he only kept me in the kitchen, the
rotter. But I tell you, he has a room.”

Ebony trotted up the stairs
quickly, the case so extraordinarily light in her hand.
“You know, having a
house, it doesn't surprise me that he has rooms in it. In fact, if
you said he had a house, and didn't have a single room at all –
then I might get suspicious and wonder if he doesn't really have a
shed instead.”

“
No, Ebony, a secret room,” the
bag gave a little hiss, like a jet of air escaping a high pressured
pipe.

“
Right. What kind of secret
room, and how do you know if you didn't see it?” she finally
reached the top of the stairs, and gently pulled the door open,
staring out at the suspiciously sunny sky above. Considering her
current situation, Ebony very much expected to see some seriously
foreboding storm-clouds gathering on the horizon like vultures
waiting for the wounded to fall.