“Perhaps, on one of his visits. It makes my skin crawl.” The huge sapphire mounted in silver filigree seemed to blink like an eye, and Eli lowered it into the new, larger box the witches had made.

Nahum quickly transferred the rings, loose gemstones, and bracelets, ticking them off his list. “The necklace on the statue ended up in the hole that opened up when the temple collapsed.”

“Was it as bad as it sounded?”

“Worse. I’ve never been so powerless in my life. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak, even, except when Amato willed it.”

“And this one?” Zee held up the broken necklace.

“Taken from Amato’s neck. Shadow cut it with her Dragonium blade.”

“Impressive, I didn’t know it could cut through metal.”

Nahum hadn’t really stopped to consider it. “That’s true. Neither did I, but I didn’t take the time to consider it in all the drama.”

“Her sword was undamaged?” Zee asked.

“Must have been, or we’d have never heard the end of it.”

Alex crouched close by, careful to keep his distance. “It’s a pure fey blade, right?”

Eli nodded. “Forged in the Otherworld. Dragonium is made from dragons. It’s a pretty gruesome process. Makes the best weapons though, apparently. Even the dryads talk of it.”

“You chat to dryads about weapons?”

Eli smiled. “About all things related to the Otherworld.”

Alex just nodded, thoughtfully. “So, the fey blade can cut through angelic jewellery and not be damaged. Interesting. And Shadow went undetected by Amato.”

“And Belial, I presume.” Nahum sat back, glad to see Alex was coping with Belial. “When we first met Jacobsen, the jewels whispered that I was there. He turned and saw me. That didn’t happen with Shadow. She was using her fey magic, of course. She kept to the darkness, and I couldn’t see her, either. You know what she’s like in her stealth mode.”

Alex sat cross-legged on the floor. “She talked about Raziel’s magic back when you found the temple. Of how the old God tried to stop others from using magic, and laughed. She said it was impossible. That magic is everywhere, especially in the Otherworld.”

“I remember. She said writing it all in some big book and then locking it away was madness. She wittered about the elements.”

“Yes, the fundamentals of life. The elements that we access.” Alex smiled. “It’s a weakness.”

Nahum had been ticking off jewels and throwing them into the new box while they talked, but now he froze. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure, but I know it is.”

Nahum went to speak but Zee shushed him. “Wait!”

Alex was quiet for a few moments. “They don’t have control of it. Magic, I mean. Especially Otherworldly magic. It’s wild, and not of our world. The world of fey is like magic on speed, right? That’s how it almost seems to me. It’s like having it on tap. Raw and unfiltered, unlike our world where it’s hidden. Muffled.” He laughed, eyes widening almost maniacally. “Oh, wow. They can’t read it. Or could once but can’t now. Or Belial can’t, anyway. He’s tuned to his own angelic magic, but that’s different.”

Nahum stared at his brothers, glad to find they looked as baffled as him. Well, Zee did. Eli laughed, too. “The dryads have no truck with Gods or angels. They are just other concentrated forms of energy to them. Dryads are a bit smug, actually. They consider their own magic the purest because it’s of the earth.”

“And the old God, the Christian God,” Alex continued, “had no sway in the Otherworld.”

Nahum nodded, seeing what Alex meant. “Shadow used to think that we’re some kind of sylph, but now she knows we’re not. They are air spirits. We’re similar, but from a different mould. A different magic.”

“The same root, but a different branch. He has no sway over Shadow at all.” Alex grinned. “She’s your secret weapon.”

“But if she touched his jewels?” Eli asked. “We’ve been very careful to keep them apart.”

“Probably wise, but I don’t think they would have an effect on her.”

Nahum had another idea. “Could her blade destroy these?”

“No. Break them, yes. But there’d always be pieces of them.”

“So,” Zee said, “we’re back to being dragons again.”

Confused, Nahum said, “Dragons?”

“I’ll explain over lunch. Alex, are you getting anything from the jewels?”

“Let me sit quietly with them for a few minutes and I’ll let you know. Then it’s time for a pub lunch.”

Ten

So, this was Moonfell , Barak thought, as the huge front door opened to a colourful hallway of rugs and burnished wood.

An older woman with a thick mane of white hair greeted them, elegant in a dark red dress, displaying a beaming smile and shrewd eyes that took them all in. “Welcome to Moonfell. Come in quickly, out of that nasty February cold.” She shut the door behind them and shook their hands. “I’m Birdie. Estelle, I presume?”

“Yes. Thank you, Birdie. We really appreciate your help.”

“A fellow witch is always welcome.” She kissed Estelle’s cheek. “Well, most of the time. We had an issue with one only recently. Anyway, you must be Barak and Lucien.”

Lucien had been at a loose end and was as anxious as them to see the outcome of this visit, and the witches had welcomed all of them when Estelle had called for assistance.

“We’re in the kitchen at the moment,” Birdie said, leading the way down the hall, “the heart of the house, but we’ll head to the tower room for the spell. Time for tea, first.”

Barak followed her, soaking in the magic of the house. Now he knew what Nahum meant when he said the Moonfell witches were very different to the White Haven witches and Estelle’s family. Although the Cornish witches had strong family histories of witchcraft, they lived fully in the present, especially Estelle and Caspian, who were doing their best to forget their father’s influence completely. Already he sensed that the inhabitants of Moonfell kept a foot in the past, as well.

Birdie chatted to Estelle as she led them down the hall, and Barak observed the bohemian décor. He had no doubt that the characters who lived here were as colourful as the house. It reminded him of his old palace in Ethiopia. The wall hangings, the rich furnishings, and the sense of opulence. It was nothing like his ancient home, and yet it was, too, even down to the scent of incense that hung on the air. A wave of homesickness hit him like a blow to the stomach, and he stopped for a moment, images unspooling before his eyes like an old film.

Birdie turned and smiled. “It has that effect sometimes. It will pass.”

She knew. “I’m okay. The past catches up with me sometimes.”

“As does the heartache.” She smiled at Estelle. “But that will pass, too. He has new things to love now. And you, Lucien, well, you have been through a lot. Morgana can help with that.”

“You read auras,” Estelle said, eyes narrowing. “I’ve never been able to do that.”

“I can turn it off, but sometimes it’s so strong that I can’t help it. All of yours are strong. That’s good, and to be expected from such powerful individuals. Now, here we are.”

Suddenly they were in a large, spacious kitchen, with grey February light illuminating the shining surfaces of a very modern, yet still very Gothic kitchen. Two women were in there, one with long, dark hair who was making a pot of tea, the other younger, with thick, auburn, wavy hair, who was seated at the table reading a magazine.