Witch's Bell Book One

tell you, he has a room.'
    Ebony trotted up the stairs quickly, the case so extraordinarily light in her hand. 'You know, having a house, it doesn't surprise me that he has rooms in it. In fact, if you said he had a house, and didn't have a single room at all – then I might get suspicious and wonder if he doesn't really have shed instead.'
    'No, Ebony, a secret room,' the bag gave a little hiss, like a jet of air escaping a high pressured pipe.
    'Right. What kind of secret room, and how do you know if you didn't see it?' she finally reached the top of the stairs, and gently pulled the door open, staring out at the suspiciously sunny sky above. Considering her current situation, Ebony very much expected to see some seriously foreboding storm-clouds gathering on the horizon like vultures waiting for the wounded to fall.
    'I felt it – I saw the door too. Mark my words. It was a secret room.'
    Ebony just sighed. Considering all of the surprises Harry had given her today, she didn't have the effort to fight this. If Harry could fold himself into an old leather traveling case, then he was probably right about this secret room of Nate's.
    The question was what was in it?
    Ebony walked out onto the roof, hefting the case along with her. 'Harry,' she mumbled quickly, how do we get off the roof? Got any magic up your sleeve?'
    'Yes. But I wouldn't waste it on rubbish like this. Magic is like silver cutlery, Ebony, you only bring it out to either impress, or stab, important guests. So I suggest you get us off this roof the same way you got up here.'
    Ebony took the moment to really roll her eyes, putting a lot of effort into the movement even though no one could see her. Then she began the tremendous toil of quietly, carefully, and ever so delicately wending her way back to the Turkish Takeout - only this time with the added bonus of having to lug a case with a magical bookstore cooped inside. Oh, and she still didn't have shoes on. Though, she realized with a smile, she could just pick up her shoes from before, meaning she didn't have to go barefoot into the belly of the beast.
    Sometimes life worked in very odd ways. Either it had a sense of humor, or it just liked to mess people around.
    By the time Ebony had made it back onto Mohammad's roof, wrestled her shoes back on, and trundled back down the fire-escape, her face was hot, her hands sweaty, and she really needed a drink.
    Rather than go back through Mohammad's – as she didn't want to risk any errant cops going in there for a coffee in between trying to break into her store – she left the key to his fire-escape on his mat, and headed around the side of the building. There was a fence that was intended to stop people from gaining access to the back of the building without permission, but there was also a surprisingly tall dumpster next to it. With a couple of hefts and grunts, Ebony clambered on top of it with Harry, and then proceeded to try and pull herself over the fence. She eventually gave up trying to keep her skirt straight and decent, and just took to the fence like a commando might take to an obstacle course – with a face like a twisted picture, and a grunt worthy of a cave man.
    She dropped down less than lithely on the other side of the wall, teetering forward in her heels, but managing not to fall into the drain or smack face-first into the pavement.
    'Very nice,' she heard Harry whisper quietly from her side. 'Now, follow what I say, and follow it exactly. There are people after you, Ebony, I can feel them. So let me find you a path forward.'
    Ebony just nodded. That sounded perfect. Putting the responsibility onto someone else sounded like absolute heaven right now. If all she had to do was hobble along in her heels with a traveling case by her side, while someone else took the driver's wheel, so to speak – then she was happy to oblige.
    After walking down an assortment of alleys, side-streets, and even over a few more fences – Ebony found herself on the outskirts of town. Really, she felt like she'd been walking for a whole week, maybe a year, considering how much her feet hurt.
    If she'd once hobbled along with the case, she now practically dragged it, and herself. Long ago she'd taken off her heels, ditching them for the discomfort of bare-feet. She simply couldn't take the blisters and chaffing any more.
    It seemed Nate lived right at the foot of the mountains, on the side of Vale that swept up to the forests beyond. His house was in a very