Sparkle Witch: A Novella (The Lazy Girl's Guide To Magic Book 4)(11)

He beamed at me. ‘Yep.’

***

Iqbal took me back to the main entrance to show me out. I was just about to take my leave when a familiar figure walked in, shaking out her shiny brown hair. Her face lit up when she caught sight of Iqbal and then her cheeks turned bright red when she noticed me.

‘I—Ivy!’ Eve stammered. ‘What are you doing here?’

The last thing I wanted to do was panic her with tales of the witchy apocalypse. ‘Research,’ I said smoothly. ‘On Christmas traditions.’ Sort of. ‘You?’

She licked her lips. ‘I’m doing research as well. On witch–human relations.’

I nodded sagely. ‘Well, have fun. I’ve gotta dash.’

I nipped out of the door, then darted to the side where I couldn’t be seen and pressed against the wall. After waiting for a beat or two, I peered back in, grinning to myself before using up the last vestiges of magic left inside me to cast a quick rune and create the illusion of a sprig of mistletoe. It wasn’t as if the Arcane Historical Society had any other decorations to boast of. Just to be sure that one of my sneaky friends noticed it, I gave it a little magical shake. Iqbal glanced up and, when the smile spread across his face, I knew. A heartbeat later he was locking lips with Eve. He was at least half a foot shorter than her and they were as much opposites as Winter and me. Apart from their mutual hearts of gold.

I allowed myself a tiny inner squeal of happiness. If this was the end of the world as we knew it, at least we’d all die happy.





Chapter Six


Given that initially I’d been trying to stop someone from making life difficult for Winter and that I was now attempting to avert an actual apocalypse, I was feeling remarkably chipper. Maybe it wasn’t just my giddiness at seeing Eve and Iqbal get it on; maybe I was also being infected by the holiday spirit. I might not have worn the Santa suit for long but it could have rubbed some Christmas magic onto me. I wouldn’t put it past Maidmont to have imbued the fabric with some kind of happy-making spell. If that were the case, of course, then it was even more miserable being St Nick than I’d already experienced. The real Santa certainly had a cushy enough life though – I wouldn’t mind only working one day a year. Assuming I wasn’t swallowed by the earth. Perhaps I’d suggest it to Winter later.

With that thought in mind, I made my way back hastily to the Order, avoiding any more interaction with trains or trees at the station. I had good reason now to involve as many witches as possible in locating the Angel. Certainly Abigail and the other Neophytes who’d been dressing the tree knew about the Angel’s disappearance so they were already panicked. I didn’t have to worry about worrying those who were already worried. I turned that over in my head a few times; it made sense to me.

Munching on another biscuit as I walked, I followed the nearest pale-faced witch. Before too long I found myself faced with a large group of them.

‘Ivy!’ Abigail dashed over to me. ‘You’re still here! We’ve been searching and we can’t find the Angel anywhere.’ She pointed behind her. ‘Adam found its box but it’s empty apart from some odd gunk.’

Smoothing my features to make myself appear as brisk and business-like as possible, I glanced over at the box and then at Abigail. ‘Odd gunk?’ Odd gunk was never innocent.

Adam, another Neophyte who looked about the same age as Abigail, pointed. I squinted. There was a small clump of something brown, dried and crusty. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t pretty. I leaned over to get closer and gave it a cautious sniff. There was a faint fishy odour but I couldn’t detect anything else.

‘Perhaps,’ Adam interjected helpfully, ‘the thief left this as a calling card.’

‘A little pile of dried goo?’ I could think of more elegant ways of leaving your mark. ‘Was the box open or closed when you found it?’

He bit his lip. ‘Open.’

‘So this odd gunk might be mouse droppings.’

He shook his head. ‘No. Mouse droppings look more like grains of rice.’

I gave him a long look. ‘First of all, mouse droppings were just an example of how anything could have fallen, or been deposited, into the Angel’s box. Second of all, how do you know so much about mouse poo?’

Adam’s eyes lit up. ‘We’ve been using it in our herblore studies. Apparently if you combine mouse droppings with some dried rosemary and—’

I held up my hands. I really didn’t want to know. ‘Has anyone done a tracing spell?’ I enquired. ‘You know, to see who’s been near the Angel recently and provide a shadow of what’s past?’

The expression on Abigail’s face told me what I didn’t want to hear. ‘Several of us. We even combined our magic to give it a shot. Nothing came up. And of course we have no way of knowing when the Angel was stolen. It might have been the first week of January for all we know.’

It wasn’t likely, given that the curse had not kicked in yet, but it was a nice thought. I gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure it will turn up but let’s put all our efforts into finding it. Where is the Angel normally kept when it’s not on top of a tree?’

‘The Antiquities department.’ Abigail paused. ‘We’ve been over it from top to bottom. The Angel’s definitely not lurking in some corner.’