Testimony of Children (Alice Gray Book 2)

50

There was only one place that any of us had seen those roughly woven poppets.

The General Cemetery.

We were going back.

I couldn't get the sight of those tiny hanging figures out of my head. The tree was full of them, swaying in the wind. Such a callous act, considering the fate of so many of our ancestors, and its purpose was still shrouded in mystery.

Something that James had told me back in London poked its way into my memory. It was a throwaway comment. Not significant to his story at the time. But now, now it brought a glimmer of clarity to the macabre act.

The Device family had used poppets to enhance their power back in the seventeenth century. Unfortunately that didn't narrow it down to one culprit. The Device clan was huge: Hazel, Jenny, even Jonathan had once been a member. And then, the sheer quantity of the creepy little things boded ill. Whichever one of them it was, they were trying to amass power.

A lot of power.

Too much for anything good.

"Evan, when you said that those poppets would drain my magic, how did you know?"

"I didn't. Well, not really. Jenny used to make them to help her channel natural forces. I just figured that they might do the same to a witch's life-force."

Jenny. Why didn't that surprise me? The look on my face must have given away my suspicion.

"Jenny wouldn't do that, Alice. She couldn't have. Her poppets were doll-like things. Some of them even had ribbons and bows. She named them. They were like toys not weapons. And besides, Jenny is not a bad person, just a bit territorial," Evan said, a flush of colour in his cheeks.

I snorted my lack of faith, my eyes shifting away from the gleam of sincerity in Evan's baby-blues. He was far too trusting in my opinion. Having an Alpha was going to be the best thing for him.

Emily parked on Cemetery Road and Becca slid her shiny motorbike in behind. We huddled together at the abandoned Anglican Chapel located at the top of the site. I refused to scan the building again. A game of spot the gargoyle was the last thing I needed right now.

"I'm shifting," Lucas said, "my wolf will be more use in scenting the magic, and if I need to attack, they'll have less defences against my animal form."

"Me too," Becca added.

Emily pulled a sleek Glock from the waistband of her jeans. After checking the weapon, she held it ready at her side.

The blue haze of Evan's magic strengthened around him. His pale blue eyes intensified with the swirl of his life-force. Magic was his weapon.

It was mine too.

I called to the power that I held curled around my insides. My life-force pulsed, flickering in response to my intention. As it increased the sweet chimes of the silver tree sang in my head. I embraced the high notes while searching for the pack bond that joined me to Lucas, Emily and Evan.

Fissures of panic ran through my control when I couldn't immediately grasp it. The song of the leaves threatened to explode into the maddening cacophony of sound that I'd feared ever since I realised its effect on Jonathan's victims.

A huge grey wolf with green eyes moved to face me. Caught in the dominance flooding over me from those eyes, I found the thread that joined me to him. The sound of the chimes relaxed until it resembled a tune.

I was under control.

However much I might resent Lucas for tying me to him, I couldn't deny the advantages. I held my life-force close to the surface but I didn't fear that it would break free. I may have swapped one bondage for another, but at least with the pack bond I wasn't on my own.

Lucas and Becca took the lead, moving gracefully and silently in their animal forms. It didn't seem to bother them to work as a team. I thought cats and dogs were natural enemies; looks like that truly was a myth.

When we got to the heart of the cemetery, Becca forged steadily ahead, until she was barely visible in the undergrowth. Her sleek black body weaved in and out of overgrown bushes and toppled headstones with ease. Lucas moved in fast bursts, stopping to scent the ground at intervals. His rough grey fur merged with the stone monuments in the dusky light, somehow disguising his massive wolf form.

Neither animal paid the rest of us any attention. They expected us to follow their lead, and we were happy to do so. No one wanted to remonstrate with two oversized predators.

Especially when it was impossible to tell how much humanity lurked underneath.

As we made our way down the steep path back to the catacombs, the light of the December afternoon grew darker. Trees rustled overhead, and every time I looked up, some broken down grave sculpture was looking directly at me.
There were angels and cherubs everywhere in the Victorian cemetery. Decorative urns had toppled off their stands, and weeping female figures in Grecian dresses leered at me from every angle. I forced myself not to look, convinced that my imagination would have them creeping towards me, fangs and claws at the ready.

But this was not an episode of Doctor Who, and these were not the Weeping Angels.

And even if they were, I'd transformed my father's gargoyles back to human before. I could do it again.

I hoped.

Finally, we reached the clearing outside the catacombs. The air was still and silent. I glanced around trying to remember our movements last night. Our haste to escape had clouded all my other senses, and now I couldn't even recognise the place where we had emerged.

I looked at Evan for help, but he was just as puzzled.

"Come on Evan, I thought you knew your way around here."

"Hey. I was blindfolded when they brought me down," Evan answered defensively. "I was so focused on following your scream that I wasn't really paying attention. It all looks so different now."

We moved into the centre of the clearing. Rotted leaves covered the ground, still there from the autumn fall. Rocks positioned in a large spiral were to the left of the path, with the catacombs cut into the hill on the right. The sun peaked out from the heavy cloud, shining through the trees as it made its descent. There wasn't much afternoon left. If we couldn't find it before darkness fell we were screwed.

"I don't think this is his fault," Emily said, raising her gun as she spoke. She pointed to one of the rocks with the barrel.

I peered through the gloom, trying to make out what she'd seen.

I wished I hadn't bothered.

Lying on the rock was a single poppet.

Oh dear, what nasty witchcraft is this? Hope you're enjoying the story as it creeps towards its conclusion!