Page 77 of Uncharmed

The rest of the leading family Heralds, including Vivienne and Harmony’s fathers, stepped out from the shadows and into the moonlight. They were surrounded.

Annie took a decisive side-step across Maeve to form a barrier, squaring her shoulders as she did so. It was time to play another part. The part of a witch who would never be bullied or browbeaten by such people. Inside she felt nothing but fear, but if she had learned anything from Maeve, it was how to keep that well-hidden.

‘What an absolute motley crew you lot are. Took you long enough to find us. You could look a bit happier to finally get here. Was there a Buy One Get One Free on sticks up your arse down at the ol’ Sorciety?’

‘Maeve!’ Annie hissed. Maeve was, of course, insistent on taking the first jab before anyone could rein her in. The older witch tugged the girl further behind her, a memory of that night when Hal had arrived at Arden Place and they had taken the same stance. Where in the universe was he?

‘No, Annie,’ Maeve said, shoving herself back to the front of the witches’ ring. ‘Let me talk to them. They’ve gone to so much effort to hang out with me, after all.’ Her tone was mocking.

‘She really is just as delightful as one would imagine,’ Glory said, her face so tightly restrained that it came to a dagger-like pinch. Annie could feel a white-hot temper seething from the Herald at the mere sight and sound of the girl who inadvertently posed a threat to their existence. ‘Stand aside, Annie. Do as you’re told.’

Annie swallowed and shook back her hair.

‘Annie, honestly,’ Vivienne chimed in, sounding tired of it all. ‘This is so beneath you, babe. It’s beneath all of us. Why am I wasting my All Hallows’ Eve traipsing through filth to come collect some spotty little toerag who probably doesn’t know a foxglove from a frogspawn?’

‘Sure I do,’ Maeve shot back. ‘Frogspawn’s the one that looks just like your face.’

‘Alright, that’s enough of that,’ Annie said as Maeve jolted forwards, as if about to step outside the witches’ ring. Harmony threw an arm out to stop Vivienne from launching herself at the teen.

‘She’s right, Annie,’ Harmony said pleadingly. ‘Just give us the bloody girl, will you? And then we can all go home. This is so boring and you’re making me miss the Spellbound Bay special. I’ve never missed an episode and . . .’

‘Both of you cease talking immediately, before I die of embarrassment on your behalf.’ Finally, Romily spoke, taking a slow, measured step towards the witches’ ring. Tension clung to the air, poised to break at the first swell of magic anyone dared to send.

‘This isn’t how any of us want this to go,’ Romily said, her hands clasped neatly behind her back. ‘But the fact of the matter is, Annie, your little friend here has been identified as a major, unfortunate glitch in the magic system.’ She smiled as she moved, a frightening combination of poise and simmering violence. ‘And no one likes a glitch, do they?’

Annie forced herself to answer calmly, although she could feel the sparks beneath her skin splintering into tiny weapons. These newly real, raw emotions were still proving difficult to keep caged. ‘I do,’ she replied. Her fists were trembling. ‘I like this glitch very much. I happen to love this glitch.’

Maeve took her hand and squeezed it tightly.

Romily rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, really?’ She gave her a pitying, upside-down smile. ‘As much as you loved your old life? C’mon, Annie. You know just as well as I do that nothing’s going to change, even if you throw yourself on the bomb. The Sorciety doesn’t allow for mistakes like this. What are you going to do, exactly? Bring down the whole system? This is how it works,’ she said emphatically, laughing with a shrug.

‘It doesn’t have to be,’ Annie said, although even she had to admit it was an uncertain declaration.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s better for everybody if this problem is simply . . . removed from the picture. We’ll see to it that she’s dealt with appropriately. It’ll be as though none of this ever happened. Think how beautiful your life could be again.’

Romily had been taking slow steps closer as she spoke and now she reached towards Annie. She twiddled a loose blonde curl that had sprung from her braid. ‘And, just between you and me, about all that “left behind” business: you know I’d never let that happen. I treasure our friendship. You’ve always been my favourite.’

‘Oh, give me a break,’ Maeve muttered.

‘Don’t you miss it, Annie?’ Romily said, eyes sparkling. ‘Us, thick as thieves? Just as it was supposed to be? And you, a part of something special. Your beautiful, charmed life. Don’t you miss being perfect?’

Annie swallowed, eyelids fluttering. In some ways, she did. She did miss it all. Celeste and the pastries like pillows of spun gold. Her immaculate home, everything always exactly where she left it. Her time at Hecate House, buried in the library, always bettering herself to make everybody proud. Everything fitted together so neatly when she did what she was supposed to do. There was no confrontation, no awkward, difficult feelings, no bumps in the road. It was true that, in some ways, Annie really did miss being perfect.

As though she could see Annie’s thoughts wander into the past untethered, beckoned by its rose-tinted embrace, Romily seized her chance. She snatched Maeve, tugging mercilessly at her hair and plucked her from the witches’ ring with grabbing hands, stumbling backwards into Glory with Maeve firmly in her grasp. With a delighted laugh of pure evil, Glory threw a bolt of magic at Maeve’s chest and sent her careering backwards into the tree behind them. Maeve hit the trunk with a sickening thud that made Annie feel hollow. Maeve winced at the pain, but her face quickly changed to a snarl as she realized she was trapped. The thick roots of the tree had bound themselves around her ankles, while the branches formed knots around her wrists.

‘Don’t leave the circle, Annie,’ she just about managed to shout, her voice straining as Glory pulled her palm back and stretched the roots even tighter around the girl’s body. The tree seemed to groan in reluctance at the cruel, unnatural entrapment it was being forced to partake in, a deep, creaking grumble that rattled the woodland floor.

‘Let her go!’ Annie screamed. She was mortified with herself, furious that she had allowed herself to be distracted by the promise of shiny, beautiful things again. Somewhere in her frantic mind, she heard Vivienne snort and Harmony cackle, then each take a dig.

‘Sure, that’ll work.’

‘Worth a try, I suppose.’

Glory lifted Maeve’s chin with one finger to stare straight into her eyes. Or at least attempted to, as Maeve refused to look back, keeping her own gaze firmly on Annie. ‘Very like Enid, aren’t you? She was a thorn in my side, too. Strangely talented, always questioning the way of things. Ask any of the other Heralds, they all want you dead like your mother. A most unnatural freak of nature, even for wicchefolk.’

‘That’s when you know it’s really bad,’ Harmony chimed in, still laughing as though not in the throes of chaos. ‘When you’re the weirdo of all weirdos.’

‘But if she’s fortunate and wise, as you claim she is, and she does as she’s told like a good little pet, she could prove useful to us yet.’ Glory turned from Annie back to Maeve. ‘Seven is a luckier number than six. Perhaps she’d like to reignite the Cadmus heritage and join us, after all. Why wouldn’t she crave a taste of unimaginable power?’