Witching Games: The Fire Witch Chronicles 1, R.A. Lindo [top 100 books of all time checklist .txt] 📗

spin into a Disira charm, vanishing from sight before reappearing behind him, framed by fire. He jumps back in shock as I move towards him … the protective bubble of the Velinis charm protecting me from the fire’s flames.

The design of my defensive charms means Eli’s focused on the flames, seeming to surging out my body: an image that brings silence to The Chattering Tap.

“The Fire Witch,” Adam whispers as Eli’s cowardly crew cower at the bar, grabbing onto Joseph Flint as if he’s going to come to their aid.

The penny finally drops for Eli: the recognition that the little girl he ordered away from him knows what real danger is, and he isn’t it.

“Okay,” shouts Conrad, clapping his hands to break up the minor drama. “Back to your Society beverages.”

He ignites a Spintz charm to get my attention, sending a shower of light above me to snap me out of a burgeoning fury. “That’s enough, Guppy. We’re on Society business, remember.”

Accepting Eli’s fear as a recognition of his error, I deactivate the Velinis and Smekelin charms, letting the flames fade around me. He’s lost for words: the thin, oily bully who’s unlikely to forget who I am.

“By the way,” I say to Eli in way of conclusion. “Adam’s a good friend of mine. Yeah, he’s got a stammer but you’ve just been embarrassed by a little girl, as you like to put it. So, here’s my advice: if you don’t want to find out what fire feels like, look after Adam or I’ll take care of you.”

Eli glances at his cowardly group nervously, his oily, black hair adding to his shady energy. “Fair enough,” he finally says, gesturing for his allies to head for the exit — a slow, sarcastic clap following the group out.

Adam Creswell glances back at me, hovering at the back of the group. He doesn’t belong with them but has chosen intimidation over isolation, wondering why a girl he barely knows has helped him.

“Beauty and unity,” I whisper, remembering a time when a sinister group of wizards bullied me. I had Kaira’s dad and aunt to protect me, so I’ll be Adam’s secret guardian until he finds his confidence and proper place in the Society.

“Ready now?” Conrad asks, handing me my glass of Jysyn Juice: a non-alcoholic Society remedy. I return to my seat, raising my glass to Joseph Flint who forces another nervous smile, wondering how his day is going to end.

9

Society Matters

With Eli Blin taken care of, the focus turns to Joseph's secret visit to The Shallows. If he was a lover of Society board games like Rucklz, his trips there would make sense, but he’s an eccentric who obsesses over Society facts. The one fact he should be clear on is the consequences of suspicious behaviour.

He sips his Jysyn Juice slowly, the courage infused within it the very remedy he needs. He’ll be fine if he just tells us the truth — not so fine if he’s thinking of concocting a story to cover his tracks.

“So,” I begin, swinging my legs on the barstool, “What gives, Joseph?”

The tremor in his right hand worsens — the consequence of a charm backfiring on him in the testing phase. Joseph works in the Feleecian, the faculty for remedies, where powder of various colours fills the air. Williynx are more plentiful in the Feleecian, using their noses to assess the quality of new remedies. If they squawk, we’re onto something but if they pass out we’re not.

I found this process cruel at first until Jacob explained it was perfectly harmless. No Williynx is harmed in any way and the Society gets to catalogue new remedies: remedies used to benefit the S.P.M.A. and the above-ground world, adding a touch of magic to all things.

Obviously, non-magical people have no idea that the sweets in Wimples are laced with magic. The adults are bamboozled by the moving illustrations that form on the tongue, and their children don’t care — the wonder of it all enough to bring them back again and again.

“Just my usual jaunt to The Shallows,” Joseph finally replies, placing the glass of green liquid in his lap.

“I wouldn’t say usual,” Conrad adds as the annoying presence of Lorena Lellant hovers at our end of the bar.

“Drinks, lovely?” she asks, focusing on Conrad.

“We’re fine, thanks,” he replies, keeping his back to her.

She’s all hair and smiles until that point, grabbing the empty glasses and shouting “Who’s waiting” as she walks away.

“I … I’ve been frequenting The Shallows more regularly recently.”

“Indeed you have, Joseph,” I add, wondering if the tremor in his right hand’s got anything to do with my little fire display a few minutes ago. “The question is why the sudden interest…?”

“I received a request.”

“From Alice Aradel…?”

Joseph nods, lowering his gaze in a gesture of contrition. “It’s quite empty beyond Poridian Parlour, Miss Grayling, mainly frequented by those down on their luck.”

“Caught out, you mean,” Conrad adds, correcting the nervous wizard. “The evening witch was hiding out in The Shallows because of the choices she made.”

His stained black cloak rests on the floor, collecting more dust, reminding me of a professor lost in thought. “It was only a few artefacts,” he states in a particularly unconvincing manner.

“Zombuls have a specific purpose,” Conrad continues, gulping down his Jysyn Juice and slamming the glass on the bar, making Joseph jump. “Which makes me wonder: what would an evening witch like Alice Aradel want with a Zombul…?”

“She said it would help to keep her entertained,” Joseph explains.

This brings a look of disbelief from Conrad and me.

“I bet it would,” I say, standing from the bar stool, “and I doubt she was planning to use a Zombul to release harmless creatures like the Quij.”

“The Society allows the trading of artefacts between its members, Miss Grayling, even those choosing self-exile.”

“True, but I also know you’re wise enough to judge a person’s intent. On that basis, do you really believe Alice Aradel intends no harm with a handful