She proudly announced how well she had done on her science and history exams and breathed not a word about the dead bird magic that had made this possible — or the exam stress that the nurse suspected she had suffered. Instead, she pressed her father for details of his trip and listened with avid interest. Enormously comforted by his familiar presence, she surprised herself with how easily she kept her secret to herself.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Sheryl sat on the floor with her textbook open and notes spread before her while Alfred rummaged through Jane’s desk. “You know, pal,” Sheryl spoke without looking up from her reading, “if you really like Jane as much as you say you do, you wouldn’t be snooping through her stuff.”
“I’m not snooping,” Alfred disputed, budging aside lumps of quartz and colorful rock samples to reach into the back of a drawer. “I’m looking for a pencil.”
“They’re in the tray next to the keyboard.”
“Haven’t you noticed how she’s changed these last few days?” Alfred removed a sheaf of photos and began riffling through them. “I mean, she was studious before but now she’s all business. And what’s with those beat up sneakers she’s been wearing — and those ridiculous skirts?”
“What do you care what she wears?”
“Every day since she arrived in Wessex, Jane has worn hiking boots and black jeans. Now she’s sporting mismatched shirts and skirts and sneakers, and you don’t find that strange?” He held up a snapshot of a dark-haired woman who had the face of a Persian princess, a lovely eagle’s face: With her curved nose, large shining eyes and swarthy complexion, she appeared as beautiful as a Byzantine angel. “You think this is her mom?”
Sheryl looked up sharply. “You put that away right now, Alfred, or I’m going home.”
“All right, all right. Don’t twist your tonsils.” He returned the photos to the back of the drawer. “I was just curious. Can’t a guy be curious?”
Sheryl shook her head and returned her attention to her notes. Hence, she didn’t actually see the computer monitor turn itself on as Alfred would later claim it did. But she did jump to hear the loud rasping voice that cried out, “Wanton children! Faithless friends! What mischief abounds in thy hearts?”
On the computer screen, a hunchbacked hag appeared dressed in black and moldy green garments. Dried toads hung like corroded medallions from her grotesquely long and twisted hair, and a sallow face of dripped wax bobbed on a neck scrawny as a cornstalk.
“Do I misdeem thee, little monkeys?” The hag spit a bitter laugh. In one claw of a hand, she clutched a crude broom fashioned of straw and a knotty tree limb. Her other withered hand scratched at the inside of the glass screen as though she were actually trapped inside the monitor. “Come closer, little monkeys! Let me smell the sweet incense of thy brains!”
Alfred shouted with fright and in his eagerness to flee slipped on Sheryl’s papers. He crashed to the floor, bounced upright almost immediately and scrambled for the door.
“Hey!” Sheryl cried with alarm, frantically stuffing papers into her book. “Wait for me!”
The people downstairs had heard Alfred’s fall, and they were gathered at the foot of the spiral stairs when the two friends came charging down. “Dear me!” Mrs. Babcock took Sheryl’s pale face in both her hands. “What’s wrong, child?”
Alfred blurted, “The computer’s haunted! There’s some kind of really old brain-eating warty-faced toad-sucking dead-eye thing up there!”
Everyone looked to Jane for an explanation.
“A digital witch.” Jane shrugged. “A screen saver I downloaded from the internet.”
The Nemesis
“Sheryl is the best friend I ever had,” Jane complained to Jeoffry when they were alone in her room. “And now, you have me lying to her!”
“Fret not, gentle damozel,” Jeoffry spoke in soothing tones from where he lounged atop the folded quilt of her bed. “Yours was the most valorous of white lies. For the blessed opportunity to consort once again with your dear mother, you have put at ease your friends’ troubled minds.”
“They didn’t seem at ease when they scrambled out of here,” Jane worried, sitting down on the bed. “Do you think they believed me?”
“Why would they not?” Jeoffry stretched his legs. “Your lie was ever so much more plausible than the truth.”
“I don’t like lying.” Jane sulked cross-legged at the edge of her bed, elbows on her knees, chin resting in the cup of her hands. “I’m seriously wondering if this witchcraft business is worth it.”
“Verily, lass!” The haggard face of Hyssop Joan suddenly filled the computer screen. “The craft is a trial of thy skill. Hold the secret close!”
Jane gave a startled gasp. “You!” The vivid ugliness of the witch she had first seen in study hall filled her with dread. Yet, she couldn’t stop looking at that crinkled face pale as congealed wax and blotched with age spots like a speckled slug. Those walnut hull eyelids so heavy and dark and that horrible stare from eyes sharp as crushed glass gripped her with a frightful fascination.
“Ye blessed Jane!” The witch showed her discolored teeth in an askew smile. “What hard resolution from so soft a countenance! Is she not a warrantable wonder, Jeoffry? There be music in her beauty far sweeter than that silent note Cupid strikes. By her devotion comes our liberation! I remain confident and fully persuaded, the child shall hold our secret close!”
“You — you scared me in school,” Jane scolded, although somewhat timidly. “And now, you scared my friends. You’re not holding our secret close when you show yourself to them.”
“Aye.” The wrinkled face wobbled in slow and sad agreement. “My boldest expectations have found unhappy frustration these days past. Too long have I lain pompous in the grave, adjudged to obscurity. Therefore, child Jane, restless unquiet possesses me on this threshold of freedom.”
“The old dame is eager to get on with it,” Jeoffry translated. “She is, in a word, impatient. Are you ready to tackle the second of the two requirements before you — befriending a familiar?”
“Look — ” Jane stood up from the bed. “I haven’t decided yet if I want to do this.”
The digital witch swiped her broom across the screen, making a harsh scratching noise, and swung her head angrily. “Insomuch as thou hast contrived to keep faith with us through dissemblance, thou art committed!”
“Huh?” Jane looked to Jeoffry. “What’s she saying?”
“It seems so dashed odd that you would lie for us to your friends and yet still remain undecided.” Jeoffry pulled himself into a sitting position and gazed up at Jane. “Are you not desirous of a meet with your sweet old mum?”
“Sure I want to see her. But I don’t want to lose my friends.”
“No gracious friend in Alfred have thee!” The hag’s shrunken face pressed so close that the monitor revealed only one milky eye enclosed by wrinkles and hairy warts. “Gorged with curiosity, he violates thy trust! Such a monkey oppresses the name of friendship.”
“Perhaps, miss, you might consider that you are not losing friends but, rather, gaining a familiar.”
“Befriend a familiar,” Jane muttered, then sat down again and turned to the cat beside her. “Well, haven’t I already done that? We are friends, aren’t we, Jeoffry?”
“The currency of friendship is deeds!” Hyssop Joan stated loudly. “Wilt thou pay so rich and rare expense for friendship of our nimble Jeoffry?”
With her big toe, Jane stepped on the bright red switch of the computer’s surge suppresser under the desk and cut the power. The monitor blinked off, and Hyssop Joan vanished in a crackle of static.
“She scares me, Jeoffry.”
“That’s perfectly understandable, miss. She is an altogether formidable personage.” Jeoffry rubbed up against Jane and lay down beside her. “I daresay, her antiquated manner contributes considerably to her frightfulness.”
“Why does she talk like that? So odd.” Jane rubbed Jeoffry behind his ear. “I mean,
why doesn’t she just talk the way you do? You talk funny, but I can understand you.”
“We are rather different spirits, young lady.” Jeoffry lifted his head so Jane could reach under his chin. “Before you is Jeoffry, an inquisitive and bold spirit, a tough, rugged, knockabout, wise in the ways of the world. Without too loudly trumpeting my own achievements, let me assure you, miss, that I am quite the cosmopolitan spirit. After my service to the witch of the West Woods ended and prior to your summoning me through the conjure book to these whiskers and fur, I moved freely as a spirit among the continents and their great cities. Experience on the global stage, knowledge of all the follies of fashion, and a mind open wide to the animation of events — that’s Jeoffry. Whereas the frightful H. J. — well, that heavy curse from her naughty behavior has weighted down her soul, and she has remained trapped in her buried cottage these four centuries. For that reason, the old girl chews the King’s English much as she always did.” The cat tilted his head. “A little more to the left, if you please.”
Jane obliged. “I want to see my mother again. But what exactly do I have to do to make you my friend?”
“Oh, befriending a familiar is no easy matter, miss. But, I hasten to add, it is well within your means.” Jeoffry purred as energetically as a small electric motor, then added, “I take it you are ready at last to fulfill your second requirement as a witch?”
“Maybe.” Bending forward, Jane stared into the cat’s blue eyes. “What do I have to do?”
“Befriending a familiar is not merely a matter of a ready smile and a generous ladling out of jolly quips, you understand.” Jeoffry’s voice grew serious. “You’ve heard the expression, ‘A friend in need is a friend in deed?’”
“Okay. So, what’s your need?”
The cat stood up on the bed, stretched, and then hopped to the floor. “I need help with a nemesis.”
“A nemesis?”
“A vengeful rival.” Jeoffry sat upright at the center of the room. “He is a spirit fox, and his name is Trick E.”
“Tricky — like full of tricks?”
“That adequately describes him. More properly, though, his first name is Trick, and he avails himself of the initial E for his last name.”
“What does the E stand for?”
“Everyone.”
Jane whistled. “That sounds like trouble.”
“Indeed, miss. Trick E is a slippery character. Like any fox, he is crafty. But unlike the common fox, he is a spirit creature and so quite elusive.” Jeoffry looked left and right anxiously. “Just the mention of him fluffs my fur with fright. He possesses the keenest ears, and once he gets wind that I’m back in the tooth and claw business, he will be laying in wait for me, eager to spring.”
“Why?”
“I’ve told you.” Jeoffry lay down flat on the floor, his fur noticeably puffed up. “He’s my nemesis. By which I mean, he hates me. And not just me. Trick E hates all humanity and every familiar spirit of humanity. You see, this spirit fox retains the conviction that humanity is molesting our blessed Mother Earth. What with global warming, polluted rivers, landfills, bulldozed forests and strip-mined mountains, he makes a downright heartrending argument. But, instead of working to change humanity’s thoughtless ways by educating people, as we familiar spirits do, this wild spirit endeavors to bring down civilization and wipe humankind clear off the face of the planet. Nothing less will do for Trick E. And woe to any who oppose him.”
Jane looked worried. “And just how did you think a thirteen-year-old girl was going to help you with this — this nemesis?”
“I was hoping you might destroy him.”
“Me?” Jane’s eyes went wide. “I already told you I don’t want to do anything nasty.”
“Trick E is the nasty one,” Jeoffry said in a voice hushed with fear. “Once he finds out we’re working together, if you don’t destroy him, he will try to destroy you.”
“Then, that’s it!” Jane stood up. “It’s over. I don’t want anything to do with this. I’ve decided.”
“I understand perfectly.” Jeoffry crawled under the bed and peeked out from around a wooden leg. “Trick E is a dangerous and evil spirit. Best to avoid him altogether. Better yet, forget I even mentioned him. And certainly, let’s not dwell on the fact that it was he who was responsible for your mother’s death.”
Part Two:
Befriending the Faerïe
Destiny
Jane got down on her hands and knees and poked her head under the bed. “What did you say?”
“Trick E is a dangerous and evil spirit,” Jeoffry whispered. “Best we avoid him altogether.”
“You said he killed my mother.”
“That’s true.” Jeoffry crawled backward, deeper into darkness. “Trick E is ruthless.”
“But my mother wasn’t murdered,” Jane maintained. “She died in an accident.”
“Yes — a car crash, years ago when you were merely a kitten, just three-years-old.” Jeoffry curled up tighter in the dark. “Your father showed you the police report when you were old enough to read, because you were a skeptical tot, weren’t you, miss? You didn’t believe dear mum had actually crossed through them pearly gates. Your skepticism was reasonable for a wee shaver. After all, you never saw your mommy dead, because she went to her grave in a closed casket. She was that disfigured. The road had been icy that night. It wasn’t mother’s fault, was it? I mean, she wasn’t speeding. The investigators determined that from the skid marks on the asphalt. Remember?”
Jane’s head rocked back with surprise. “How do you know all this?”
“Since I am your familiar, miss, I thought it behooved me to know all I could about you,” Jeoffry replied from under the bed. “Curiosity killed the cat, as the saying goes, but I am a spirit cat. So that hardly poses a problem for me. Consequently, I know a great deal about you — and your unfortunate mother. In the snow beside the road where her life came to an untimely end, the police found fresh deer tracks — a doe and her fawn. Isn’t that so?”
“Yes — that’s right,” Jane answered numbly. “The report said that mother braked and swerved to avoid hitting the deer. She lost control of her car…”
“And smashed into a tree,” Jeoffry finished for her. “Yes, yes. That’s what the police determined. Later, the medical examiner would discover that your mom had been with child. But I will tell you something the police and the medical examiner could not have known. The child that mother dear was carrying would have grown up to be a special woman, a powerful witch. That was why Trick E chased a doe and her fawn onto the icy road in front of her car, which resulted in that tragic crash.”
Jane sat back with surprise. “My mother was pregnant when she died?”
“Sadly so.” Jeoffry’s eyes shone brightly under the bed. “A clever spirit fox such as Trick E can sometimes glimpse the future. Obviously, he was not much comforted by what he saw of your female sibling.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“Surely, prognostication — the ability to foresee the future — seems implausible,” Jeoffry spoke from out of sight. “Bear in mind, however, that modern physics, beginning with Albert Einstein, perceives time as an illusion. For a spirit animal the likes of Trick E, time is not unlike a forest, in which he can distinctly see far distances in some directions and not far at all in others, depending on the disposition of the trees.”
Jane wasn’t listening. Her mind reeled with the news Jeoffry had imparted. Feelings for which she had no names buffeted her and buzzed behind her eyes like electricity. She placed both hands over her face and tried to sort out what she was experiencing.
Anger tangled inside her with fear. She was furious that murder had ended her mother’s life. And what had killed her mother — and why — scared Jane. The thought of spirits manipulating people and events gave her a horrible sense that the world was not simply dangerous but wicked — wicked and spooky.
“I regret frightening you, miss.” Jeoffry stuck
his head out from beneath the bed. “I realize this is a stupendous shock for you. Dashed unpleasant business. Awful, actually, finding out in this roundabout way that one has been marked from birth for a special and altogether perilous destiny.”
Jane lowered her hands from her face, revealing a baffled expression. “Jeoffry, what are you telling me?”
“You did not discover the conjure book by accident, miss,” Jeoffry answered timorously. “Hyssop Joan and I have been waiting a long time for you. Well, not you exactly. The best witches are born, not made, you understand. Your sibling was a girl — and she would have been the ideal witch. But Trick E took care of that. And so, you will have to do.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ah, well…” Jeoffry rubbed his pink nose with his paw as he considered how to explain. Then, he crept out from under the bed and sat before her. “Somewhere in your worthy lineage, miss, there lurk witches. Decent birds they were, too. I’m certain of it. Helpers of humanity and all that. Absolutely first rate — or else Trick E would not have got it up his nose to stalk and kill your mother. Obviously, the genetic gift for witchcraft has passed you over.”
“Obviously?”
“Or you would be dead, miss.” Jeoffry’s eyes slimmed knowingly. “Trick E never misses a trick. The spirit fox ignored you, because he does not regard you as a threat. And that is precisely why I and old Warts-and-Wrinkles decided to enlist you. Not anyone could have found the hole in the knoll.”
“But if I don’t have the gift for witchcraft,” Jane asked through a frown, “how can I help you?”
“Most carefully, miss. Most carefully indeed.” With a nervous twitch of his whiskers, Jeoffry expounded, “It is my resolute conviction that what you lack in natural ability as a witch you shall amply make up for with sheer zeal. Revenge is a potent motivator.”
“Revenge isn’t kind.” Jane shook her head, perplexed. “I thought you and Joan had to make me into a kind witch to lift your curse and get into the Twilight.”
The Conjure Book Page 4
