They land on the corner and pull out Elodie’s phone again. The signal shows Ember’s phone as being in the middle of a row of five terraced houses. “I’ll try ringing her again, and if she doesn’t answer, we’ll just knock the door. Ellis, you’re definitely not getting any feeling that she’s in trouble?”
“Definitely not.”
They are quiet while Elodie rings, and after several rings where nobody picks up, Fletcher nods. “Her phone is here, so let’s go.”
As soon as they take a step to move, a loud snarl makes them pause. They all turn at the same time to see an enormous lion, growling and snarling at them, in the middle of a normal street.
“Shifter,” Fletcher hisses, though his explanation is hardly necessary. It’s a shifter or an escapee from the zoo.
Elodie holds up a hand and throws a ball of fire at it. The lion snarls, dodges and runs at them. Ellis screams and darts to the side, Fletcher pulling her along. Elodie stands her ground and throws up a wall of fire.
The lion stops dead and lets out a deep, rumbling roar.
In answer to his call, three more lions join him. Elodie keeps a wall of fire between her and the one lion, but the other two split up and pad towards Ellis and Fletcher. “Don’t leave my side,” he hisses to Ellis, adding his own fiery guard against the animals.
Ellis
As if I plan to! Shall I leave the side of my boyfriend, an experienced witch, and take on Simba on my own, or shall I cower like a baby beside him and hope I don’t wet myself with fear? What a dilemma!
I’m cowering, in case there was any doubt about which choice I’d go for.
I dislike this.
The flames are keeping the lions at bay for a minute, but for how long? We need to fly away, but Fletcher needs to stop the flames to hold on to me, which means I must fly alone.
I swallow down some sick and take a deep breath. “We need to go!”
He nods and his mother nods. Neither answer and neither let the flames die down.
“I can fly by myself.”
Elodie shouts above the roar of the flame. “On the count of three. We need to go. Can you do it, Ellis?”
“Yes!” I scream my answer, fear and flames making me near to hysterical. At any minute these lions might split up and then me and Fletcher will be in worse trouble. I cannot make flames shoot out of my hands. At least I couldn’t the last time I tried.
The lions roar, their enormous mouths making me shudder. I know I said the Grim Reaper was coming for me, but this is ridiculous! I do not want to get eaten by a lion and I do not want to practise flame throwing with three lions standing in front of me looking for their dinner. Because if I fail, I’ll get eaten.
Nuh-uh.
“Can you do it?” Fletcher is holding his hands up, directing the flames at the lions, but worried about me. Bless him.
So he should be.
The ridiculous things I’m going through are all because of him and his family. Really, if you will have secret magical ceremonies, you should be having them somewhere more secret than Margam Park. The only reason I’m here about to get eaten is because of him. Next time they want to invest a head witch they should do it some place out of the way.
But I nod, because we don’t really have time to get into all that. “I can do it.”
I’m pretty sure I can, anyway. I’ve done it once. And maybe flying is like riding a bike. Though the last time I did that, I fell off. I nod again. I can do it. The snarling lions are a pretty persuasive incentive.
“On three,” Elodie shouts, sweat dripping down her face.
Fletcher nods at me. “On three?”
I nod, and then Fletcher yells out:
“One!”
I steel myself. I’ve only flown once before, but I can do this. I have to do this, if I don’t want to be a dinner for a giant cat.
“Two!”
I bounce on the balls of my feet. When Fletcher yells three, the fire will vanish as quickly as he does, and I have to go too. I do not want to die by the jaws of a lion. A shifter lion, but a lion all the same.
They won’t get me in their mouths in one go; they’ll have to bite me, gnaw at me, tear pieces of me off and shake them in their drooling mouths while my blood and tissue and bones flies around in all directions, their scarlet soaked fur matting with my congealing blood. I shudder.
“Three!”
I jump into the air, launching myself into flight, stumble, land on the floor and am instantly surrounded by three snarling, lions.
I don’t wet myself, but I cannot tell you how I manage not to wet myself, throw up and die of fright all at the same time.
The lions snarl and slink toward me, and a stupid and tiny bit of my brain hopes for mercy, hopes they might shift back into human form and save me, go easy on me, show me mercy.
That hope is brief as the biggest of them lets out such a roar that every bit of hair on my body stands on end and the shiver than runs down my spine feels sharp enough to split my skin in two.
I curl
