My uncle snorted. ‘Yeah. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s always had a tendency to be a bit hypocritical, your dad.’

  I suppressed a sardonic laugh. Now wasn’t the time to point out that Faster was just as hypocritical. Now was the time to tread carefully, and get him inside the Cacklers’ house before he could return to his new friends. ‘Look, why don’t we talk about this somewhere else?’ I suggested. ‘I know somewhere nice and quiet. We can have a cup of tea and sort it all out.’

  He let out a stubborn-sounding huff. ‘No. I like talking out here. In the fresh air where I can see my enemies coming. Speaking of enemies, that’s what Jude’s son says you are. Him and his warlock friends tell me you’ve been plotting against me all along.’

  I thought carefully about how to answer. If he’d had Kieran in his ear, then he probably thought the worst of me. He probably wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, so I might as well tell the truth. ‘Uncle Faster, don’t you think I wanted to tell you all of this? Of course I did. But look what happened to my dad. He murdered people, innocent people, believing they were witches. When he did finally get his hands on some actual supernaturals, he met his comeuppance. He’s in jail now and I honestly think he deserves it. Because what kind of a hunter does that? Why would anyone want to kill someone just because they’re different? I’m a different kind of hunter to Dad, or you, and I’m proud of it too. But even though I disagree with some of the things you think, and do … I still love you. And if I kept secrets from you, it wasn’t because I was plotting against you like Kieran said. It was only to keep you safe.’

  I wiped away a tear, wishing I weren’t so heartbroken right now. If my uncle was going to be a stubborn idiot – and an evil idiot if he actually sided with Kieran – then I should be angry about it, not distraught. ‘You were the one who led me here,’ I continued. ‘I wouldn’t know a thing about this world if you hadn’t asked me to open Jude’s Toolkit and track down Diane Carey. She wasn’t a murderer, by the way. The real murderer was caught, and Diane’s living her life – but she’d be dead now if I’d listened to your terrible advice instead of following my gut. As for Jude’s son and what he’s up to with the warlocks and the Not-So-Strange Society … I only found out about that recently. And I know he’s already gotten to you, Faster. I know he’s been telling you things while you were in hospital, but he’s not your friend. None of them are. But I am. And as for Martha … she had nothing to do with that love spell. That was Kieran’s work.’

  He rubbed his palms on his trouser legs, seeming troubled. ‘That hospital was amazing. I don’t remember getting there, but I soon snapped out of it when I realised I was surrounded by witches. Of course I played it cool, acted like I still couldn’t remember a thing until I could find a way out.’ He rubbed his legs again. ‘But when I was lying there, hearing their conversations, hearing Moody chat with the nurses and doctors – well, healers they called themselves – they sounded like they cared what happened to me. But why would they care? Why would witches care about me when all I’ve ever wanted to do was kill them all?’

  ‘I guess it would be hard for someone like you to understand,’ I told him. ‘But that’s what good people do. They give a crap. And like I said, so do I. A lot.’

  He squeezed my hand. ‘I know, Curly Kate. I know. You’ve always got my best interests at heart. And of course, with your soft-hearted womanly ways, you would see the best in these witches and whatnots.’

  Letting go of my hand, he gazed over the canal. ‘When Jude’s son arrived with his friends, I already knew why they were there. Something had changed in the hospital over the last day or two. People were suddenly dazed and dumb. Although some of them – the guard outside my door and a couple of the healers – they were proudly talking about this Warlock Society and Not-So-Strange Society, and how they were going to whip the enclaves into shape. Kieran and his cronies soon filled me in on the whole story. Then they gave me this.’ He looked fondly at his new Ring of Privilege. ‘They said it was so I could finally see the world I’d been searching for for so long. And help them make it a better place.’

  I flinched a little but tried to hide it. One hand was in my bag, firmly around my ropes, ready to bind him the second he got dangerous. I could sense a change in the air around us. No doubt the Cacklers were drawing close, just in case. I lifted the rope out an inch or two more, and shook my head, hoping they’d realise I was signalling that I didn’t need their help.

  ‘I’ve already sent so many witches to the Dimension of the Damned,’ Faster went on. ‘So as Kieran said, I might as well side with the bad guys, seeing as they’re the only chance I have of not winding up in Witchfield. It’s a lot to wrap my head around. I mean, here I am, sitting beside my niece. A female hunter. An unnatural thing. And according to Kieran, you’ve got to be dealt with.’

  Eek. I gave another shake of my head to hold off the Cacklers, knowing that Elspeth would think I’d lost my mind. But Faster wouldn’t kill me, would he?

  Would he?

  I decided to keep him talking for a while more – there must be something I could say that would make him see sense. ‘Well, Kieran’s a big fat liar,’ I spat. ‘Him and his cronies are not the only chance you have of staying out of Witchfield. You already know that, surely, after the conversations you heard at the hospital. Peter and the Wayfarers won’t send you to prison because you haven’t killed anyone – in fact, you didn’t even send any witches anywhere bad. The Dimension of the Damned is actually a stationery cupboard. I guess some people might find it mindlessly boring, but … they’re not dead. Stick with Kieran, though … and things will get murderous. Him and his friends will use you and spit you out, and there’ll be no coming back from the things they’ll make you do.’

  ‘Huh.’ He folded his arms. ‘That’s all very interesting, but it makes no difference to me. I’ve already made up my mind as to what I’m doing.’ He turned and smiled at me. ‘Curly Kate, whatever side you’re on, I’m on.’

  I blinked. ‘You … what?’

  ‘Don’t act so surprised. Listen, the way Kieran talked about his own mother sent chills down my spine. And as for the way he talked about you …’ His brow furrowed. ‘What? You didn’t think I’d actually kill you just because some sly little so-and-so told me to, did you? You’re like a daughter to me, Curly Kate.’

  ‘He … I … but …’ It seemed I’d forgotten how complete sentences were formed. It was understandable, really, considering the conversational rollercoaster I was riding. From the moment I’d sat down, I’d resisted believing that my uncle could want to kill me. But as much as I wanted to think he was on my side, I wasn’t arrogant enough to be certain. He could be here to murder me. For all I knew, Elvira had compelled him into messing with my emotions before he struck the final blow.

  Pulling my shoulders back, I said, ‘Faster, I love you, and I want to believe you. But Martha said you trapped her in the bedroom, so I need to be sure.’ I grabbed my Aurameter and studied him, but he just looked like my uncle. No red-herring head. No sign above his noggin that said: Bad Guy.

  As I lowered my Aurameter, he met my eyes. ‘I did trap Martha in the bedroom, it’s true, but only so I could keep her safe there until I came up with a better plan. I tried to do a spell to eliminate Kieran from the house, but all I could manage was the bedroom. I made sure Martha was snug and safe in there until I could deal with Kieran and his pals. The only two people who can get in and out of that room are you and me.’

  I thought it over, and it made sense. If he was going to go through with killing me, he would have trapped me in there with Martha, not come here so we could have a long and meaningful conversation by a stinking canal.

  ‘So why did you act so crazy with her, though?’ I pressed. ‘Martha said you ran into the room and tore open all the pillows before you trapped her. It seemed to her that you were on Kieran’s side.’

  He sighed. ‘Yes, well I was a little worked up, I suppose. I never would have hurt you, no matter what Kieran said, but Martha and this Society of Cacklers are an unknown entity to me. I tore into the room and searched for the poppets because I wanted to see Martha’s reaction when I found them. And I tell you what, she was shocked to the core. She might have been spying on me, but I could tell she wasn’t the one who put me under a love spell. The only people who’ve been taking me for a fool are Kieran and his freaky friends. They must think I came down in the last shower. Katy, look at me.’

  I met his eyes.

  ‘You’ve been my little girl since the day your father took off. I love you, and I love Celine. I might be a bit of a dinosaur, but I would never harm a hair on your head. Now listen to me, because I have some very important things to tell you. I need to tell you, word for word, what Kieran and his cronies want me to do.’

  I didn’t even have a chance to nod in agreement – he launched straight into a full and detailed retelling of every conversation he’d had with my enemies while he was in Night and Gale. Some of it shocked me, but most of it didn’t. When he was finished, he said, ‘Now, tell me again – do you believe me?’

  I let out a breath and looked at him through my Aurameter once more. The only thing I could see, just as before, was my uncle’s face staring back at me. But his eyes … they were the eyes that I’d seen looking at me with love on every single birthday. They were the eyes that I did trust, even if the man who owned them sometimes infuriated me. ‘I believe you. And I’m glad you trust me, Faster. Even though I lied to you. And you kept Martha safe, even though she lied to you. This is all …’

  ‘Surprising?’ He gave me a small, sad smile. ‘I wish it wasn’t. I hate to think you could believe I’d ever hurt you, Katy.’ A tear began to track down his cheek. ‘But I suppose I’ve brought it on myself. The way I’ve acted over the years … maybe it shouldn’t surprise me that Kieran thought I might actually be on his side, and that you could be afraid I might side with him, too.’

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘I might not have been as successful a hunter as you or Jude – and yes, I now know I was wrong about her too – but I do have sound senses when it comes to certain things. Kieran’s bad, through and through. And I do not like what they did to Moody or those nice healers at the hospital. They used some sort of robotic vampire, of all things. She had lovely make-up and a nice dress, mind you, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that she turned them into zombies.’ He quirked a brow. ‘It looked that way, anyway. Are zombies real?’

  ‘Apparently. I’ve not come across any yet. Moody’s not a zombie, though. He’s just been hypnotised into helping out the bad guys.’

  ‘Poor Moody. He doesn’t deserve that. All the chances he had to kill me and he didn’t. He might have kept secrets from me, but he’s a proper friend, so he is. If anything I’m annoyed with myself. I should have known he wasn’t human from the start. And Shirley who works in the shop below our office? I definitely should have been suspicious of her. I mean, she has red hair. Martha, too. I should have known they were both witches.’

  ‘Mam has red hair,’ I pointed out. ‘And mine is kind of red too. Plus, I think Shirley is a wizard, not a witch.’

  ‘Your hair is auburn and your mam’s is henna. And as for a female wizard – I thought Kieran was pulling my leg when he spouted the same sort of nonsense.’ He held up his hands. ‘But if you say it’s true, I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘Good.’ I grinned at him. ‘I like the new you, Faster. Y’know, this day is turning out as lovely as one of my birthdays. But much as I wish we could stay here and chat for hours – and maybe get some balloons and ice cream – Kieran and his friends are about to bring demons into the world. Although … after what you’ve told me, I might have an idea or two as to how you can help us with some of that. So what do you say? Fancy helping witches for a change?’

  He reached out and tousled my hair. ‘Anything for you, Curly Kate. Anything for you.’

  24. Let the Pre-Battle Bickering Commence

  Much as I wished it was just speculation on our part, I knew in my gut that it wasn’t. Everything that had happened over the last few days had made it blindingly obvious that tonight was the night. The Old Ones would be returning, and it was up to me, Ned and Cullen to stop them – well, us and our raggle-taggle band of helpers: the Cacklers, the non-evil members of the Moon family, a canine professor and some residents of Hopeless Hollow.

  After my heart-to-heart with Uncle Faster, I hoped we could also count him among our helpers. Once he and I said our goodbyes, the rest of the day had been spent preparing for the party at the warlock mansion. We took a break late in the afternoon to have some food, and I’d hoped that – what with the oncoming battle and all – that our early dinner in the Cackler house might be a rousing affair. I’d envisioned battle cries, feet pounding on the floor like drums, and a general a feeling of exhilarated comradery as we drew ever closer to this most important of nights.

  Instead, what I got was bickering.

  Cleo was sniping at one of the Cacklers’ cats on the floor of the kitchen, because apparently Lemon-Drop (Fiona’s familiar) received a double-share of dinner.

  Hamish was arguing with Eva over whether to use the Wizlot Armon or the Alton Wanscrom magical solder on the Compubot Amplifier they were designing. Felim seemed to think Hamish’s solder would hold up better over a larger amplification range, while Harry Moon thought Eva’s would provide a higher degree of motor-function malfunction. Now that I think about it, I probably got some of the details wrong. But you get the gist. Basically, they were having a brainy boffin argument that might make or break … something … that may or may not be important to the success of tonight’s endeavours. The only thing I knew for sure was that Hamish’s tail wagged throughout the entire argument.

  In other areas of the open-plan room, even more bickering abounded. Dolly was quarrelling with one of the Cacklers about whether or not to add chilli to the after-dinner hot chocolate, while Clarissa was arguing with Fiona about … well, everything.

  Of all the Cacklers, Fiona seemed the most stressed about tonight. Elspeth told me Fiona had been Minnie’s apprentice. The job of the One Who Sings would have become Fiona’s instead of Ned’s, had it not been for Minnie’s murder. She’d spent years preparing for this, and maybe she was deflated because she now had a less-important role. Whatever the reason, she was in a foul mood.

  It was clear that Fiona had given Lemon-Drop a much larger portion of food than Cleo, and Clarissa decided that while she waited for her next batch of muffins to bake, she would right that wrong.

  ‘Here you go, Cleo,’ said the enormous, softly-spoken spider, clacking her way towards Cleo on her high-heeled shoes with a tin of tuna in one of her hands (or maybe feet?).

  Cleo smirked. ‘Thanks, Clarissa. Good to know someone’s got my back.’

  Fiona glowered at the spider, then spoke loudly across the room to Elspeth, ‘Are you sure about all of these so-called allies? It’s hardly the usual for when the Old Ones return, is it? As Cacklers, we have years – decades even – to prepare ourselves for the Old Ones. We’ve conditioned our minds to be able to mention them among ourselves without succumbing to their charms. These people have none of our training, so despite what they say they might not actually be on our side. They could be plants.’

  ‘Hey!’ Clarissa fixed a few of her eyes firmly on Fiona. ‘I’ve been called a lot of things in my life. Hairy Legs. Sticky Feet. Eight-Legged freak. I’ve even been called Muffin Baker, when everyone knows I’m known as a Great Sumatran Muffin Eater.’

  Fiona frowned. ‘But … your kind do like to bake.’

  The fangs near Clarissa’s mouth began to bobble. I’d been told that the Great Sumatran Muffin Eaters shot sugar-syrup instead of venom from their fangs, but I wouldn’t like to test the accuracy of that rumour. ‘No. We like to eat. We’re just not lazy enough to expect someone else to do the baking for us. But we’re going off point here, aren’t we? I’ve been called many, many things, but never a plant. No one here is a plant, or a mole, or anything else you might decide to call us.’

  ‘Well, maybe not you,’ Fiona conceded. ‘It stands to reason that Hopeless Hollow could be mostly unaffected, given that you lot are even stranger than anyone else in this enclave. But Cullen Keats? Can he really be the protector this time around? For one thing, he has none of Jay’s power. For another thing, surely he should be back by now so he can discuss tonight’s plans with us? For all we know he’s only pretending to double-cross his warlock buddies so that he can double-double cross us.’

  Clarissa scuttled closer to Fiona. ‘Cullen isn’t a double-crosser. He’s by far my favourite customer. You think I let just anyone eat my muffins?’

  Fiona tossed her glossy black hair (like all of the Cacklers, she was rather glam and gorgeous once she shed her usual disguise). ‘That’s a ridiculous thing to say. You and Dolly run a café. You let everyone eat your muffins, otherwise you’d be out of business.’

  ‘Okay ladies,’ Elspeth put her plate down and marched towards the kitchen. ‘This is getting a little out of hand, and I want to finish my food in peace. Fiona – go do some dishes. And Clarissa … please accept my sincerest apologies. We truly do value your help. Fiona’s just a little bit stressed, like all of us.’

  While Elspeth calmed things down, I looked around to see where Ned was. She would normally have been the one to make sure Cleo got her fair share. I spied her in one of the hallways that led off the room, having an argument of her own.

  I strode into the hallway, frowning. Ned was definitely bickering, but with who?

  A flash of understanding arrived, and I lifted up my Aurameter. I grinned as I saw at least two dozen ghosts, all surrounding Ned. Even her mother and Derek Carey were there, without their chains. Minnie was there, too. She wore the Cackler robes in which she’d died, which set my mind a-whirring. If going to the afterlife meant wearing your death-day outfit forever, I really hoped I didn’t die in my reindeer-themed pyjamas. Those ones had a hole in the rear that I’d been meaning to fix for months.