Tells

by Scott Rhine

  I didn’t worry too much at first because gun shots shouldn’t hurt a competent witch with a Book. Once the dust settled, the spot on the wall where her feet had touched sported a huge metal spike. Someone was trying to nail my defenders down so they’d be helpless. Was that how he normally hunted young witches? Did the iron in the spikes interfere with their magic, or was it just the pain?

  “Found it!” said Blaise as she strolled from the teachers’ lounge with a long, metal pointer that resembled a van radio antenna.

  “Down!” I said.

  Confused, Blaise turned to face me. Holding up the long pointer, she asked, “Don’t you want this?” She lurched forward with a shocked expression when the blast struck her back.

  However, Blaise didn’t collapse like the other women had. Instead, she tossed me the pointer like a javelin. I caught it in midair. While the killer reloaded his gun, Blaise rotated the book-filled pack from her back to her front. It had a large hole, but the fabric was holding. Adrenaline must have kept her from feeling the sting of the impact.

  My insane cousin charged toward the animate, screaming. He unloaded another round at her, but she didn’t stop until she slapped her hand into Luca’s. Then she lifted my friend and protector to her feet.

  I focused on the ritual. “We elders gather in the name of God to revoke the powers granted to one of our number who strayed. I invoke the final sanction in the name of the Holy Spirit.” I couldn’t make out what the flyspeck under this line was.

  What gesture was pear-shaped? I didn’t recall any from my class.

  “The bell!” Luca reminded me.

  Of course. In church services, the ringing of the bell announced the Spirit. I reached as far as I could without leaving the ring of circles and tapped the bell over the office door. The tone continued to resonate for several seconds.

  Hunter roared.

  A shell clicked into place, and I glanced over at the ladies. Luca was on her feet but limping, Blaise interposed her makeshift shield in front of them both.

  These shells were different, and book tatters flew in every direction. The force knocked Blaise backward into Luca.

  “Gang way!” My friend grasped the handle atop Blaise’s mostly empty pack and dragged her limp form toward me.

  I read the next line as quickly as I could. “We remove them from our communion and extinguish the white light of Christ.” With my wave, the candle snuffed out. Then I rattled off a few more lines.

  Blaise left blood trails on the stone floor, and a panting Luca was running out of steam eight feet from me. She dropped her knife to pull on my cousin’s clothes with both hands, grunting as if Blaise were gaining weight.

  The final line of the ritual gave me pause. That was enough time for Hunter to trip Luca with the muzzle of his shotgun. She sprawled to the floor with her head inside the wards. The monster put a foot on her back. “One more word, and you’re wearing her brains.”

  I slammed the five-hundred-year old tome shut.

  “Good girl.” He licked his lips.

  A bloody hand reached up from behind him holding Luca’s blade. Blaise slashed at his bare ankle. Somehow, she sliced through his Achilles’ tendon. Anatomy must have been last year’s science class.

  The leg buckled, and my amulet flared. Instead of killing me, the next blast shattered the light overhead. Glass, sparks, and white dust rained down. Blaise wrapped her arms around his arms from behind, holding him back for the remainder of the ritual.

  Luca crawled into the protective ring like a rugby player escaping a dog pile. “Finish it!”

  Since Blaise wasn’t a witch like us, the ritual might not take her powers. I had to take the risk. Without the text of the ritual in front of me, I improvised. “Finally, I sacrifice this gift of the Father, my sacred Book, to seal the world against this abomination, that He might know my sincerity.”

  “No!” Luca said.

  I held the tome aloft, and mighty wind blew through the open school doors. The lights all went out. My precious Book turned to dust and fell like snowflakes on the two entwined wrestlers. Every bell in the school rang at once.

  Hunter’s eyes went dead. As he crumpled atop my cousin, I heard air squeak out of her.

  Without the Book, I had no energy left and sank to the floor. I could barely lift my finger to point. “Put pressure on her wounds. Ambulance on its way.”

  Luca rolled the dead monster off her. “Hang in there, girl. I’ll buy you a new cat, one who won’t run away. One—” She tore off the destroyed backpack, ripped opened Blaise’s bloody shirt, and stared.

  “Try CPR!” Because my friend wasn’t moving, I inched over to help. I soon saw what had stopped her from acting.

  Blaise had a thick surgery scar going from her collarbone past her newfound left breast. Her chest was covered with runes that were fading before our eyes. My first and only ritual had snuffed out all the golems in the area.

  37. Off the Record

  The next thing I did was to take off my expensive watch and smash it with the stock of the shotgun. Then, I hung it on the doorknob and blasted with an armor-piercing round. That was satisfying.

  Luca looked at me like I was crazy. “What did Mickey Mouse ever do to you?”

  “You should go check on coach.”

  “He pinned her to the floor with some kind of spikes, like he was crucifying her. She’ll probably be fine, but I don’t dare take them out before the ambulance arrives.”

  Invulnerability always had limitations. “Go to the office, and let everyone know the danger is over.” For now. I couldn’t hold back tears anymore.

  “I’m not going to leave you alone in this state.”

  I leaned over my cousin. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. The animals should’ve been my clue.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  “She gave everything to save us, and I killed her.”

  Luca’s face hardened. “Since age five, your cousin has been living on borrowed time—years stolen from other girls. That’s why she creeped everyone out. We could all sense the abomination.”

  “She didn’t know! Or she would’ve realized what the crows meant sooner. She never asked me about the investigation or came over to my house to poke around. She should have run after taking the first shotgun blast, but you were in trouble. She chose to rescue you. That love trumps everything.”

  “Maybe.” She caved under my persistent glare. “Okay. I owe her, but how could she not know about the murders?”

  “Blaise got sick every Christmas break and never put the pieces together. Her mother handled it all.” With the help of a surgeon, but that’s a problem for another day.

  “The captain? That explains how this nimrod passed a security check.” Luca prodded the ex-orderly’s body with her boot.

  “Also who set up my mother, burned down my house, and stole my laptop.”

  My friend glanced at the obliterated watch. “I could see how you wouldn’t want the cops knowing that you figured everything out. What do we do now?”

  “Hide Blaise’s body in the teacher’s lounge. You’ll have to do it. I can barely move.”

  “That’s illegal. I can’t be a protector if I destroy evidence.”

  I swallowed hard. She had to know the truth to be mad enough to help me. I pointed to the silver frame holding our group photo. “Do you recognize that?”

  She bent over to peer through the cracked glass. “That’s Gran-gran’s copy.”

  “The golem questioned her because someone on the police force told him I was using her Council contacts to investigate the Advent Killer. Before this attack, Captain Hutchinson pulled Bradstreet from her post to get information about a crime in Lake Placid.”

  Grief flickered on Luca’s face, followed by anger. Within seconds, she wore her poker mask. “Okay, but the bloody trail is going to be pretty obvious.” No more questions or emotion, just straight to business.

  Scary. “Good. When the team arrives in seven minutes, te
ll them the trail is mine, I’m injured, and I won’t come out.”

  “The captain will order everyone else to stay back while she finishes the job.”

  “Exactly. She’ll be right where I want her.”

  Luca raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you didn’t get hit in the head?”

  “Trust me. This battle is already as good as won.” I took a step, and white spots danced in front of my eyes. “Maybe get me a chair from the office so I can roll to the lounge.”

  ****

  When the captain arrived, I was sitting in the roller chair inside my first dueling circle. Incense floated through the air. I had changed into a white choir robe because my own clothes were bloodstained and ritualistically unclean. I sipped the last pineapple soda from my locker to recuperate. “Could you take off your gloves, Auntie?” I asked.

  She closed the door behind her. “Not on duty.”

  “Because of the burns?” I asked.

  Aunt Harlow paled. “You’re not making sense, dear. You’ve been through a huge trauma.”

  “Which trauma would that be? The list has grown over the last week.”

  “A lunatic shot up your school, watching your friends and teachers become victims. If you don’t let me help, it’s going to scar you for life.” Pretending to be a cop, she crept closer.

  “More than you blinding me?”

  She halted in the middle of my Tree pattern, and her negotiator mask fell off. “Killing that man out there has unhinged you. No one will believe you.”

  “We’re family. Why are you betraying me to Raggedy Andy?”

  “Doctor Andrew demanded that you be neutralized. As a favor to my daughter, I risked everything to keep you alive.”

  I pointed to bundle on the sofa, wrapped in the Persian rug. Luca had dragged her on it. “You mean her?”

  A wand leapt to her hand, leveled at me. “You killed my Blaise?”

  “An eye for an eye, right?”

  Fury burned on her face. “You have no idea what I went through to have her. Years of effort undone.”

  “I’m sure those other girls’ mothers felt the same.”

  “They were the dregs. Nobody cared about them.”

  “Not a sparrow falls that God doesn’t know about. Are you sure you don’t want to repent? Anything you want to rectify?”

  Harlow swirled her left hand to gather power, and the potted fern on the table swayed in the breeze. “It’s good that you’re dressed for a funeral. If it hasn’t been too long, I might be able to revive her again with your life force.”

  “So that would make you my greatest enemy?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Just wanted to confirm.” I pushed back out of the ring and used my will to power the ward. “She’s all yours, Keeper. Hear the blood of the faithful cry out for justice.”

  “What are you babbling about, child?”

  “Just because you don’t see someone, doesn’t mean they aren’t listening to your confession. Meet the angel who can assume the shape of anyone who sacrificed themselves while serving God—the Keeper of Martyrs.”

  I had been braced for a tall African man with a machete. The person who appeared took my breath away as well as Harlow’s. My mother stood behind her in the Tree of Life, holding a shepherd’s staff. “Harlow Hutchinson, you have been weighed in the balance and found wanting. I call down on you the Curse of Nebuchadnezzar.”

  The captain shrieked and lashed out with a blast of light. The beam rebounded from the staff and struck her in the forehead. Dropping her wand, she sank to all fours. I expected her to burst into flames or melt into a puddle. Instead, she bleated like a sheep. When she spotted the fern, she nibbled on the part she could reach.

  “Speak to no one of this confrontation,” said the angel in the image of my mother.

  “Sure. I’ll just say maybe the grief of seeing her murdered daughter triggered it.”

  The angel said, “If you petition the Council, you could claim her Book as your own.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not ready for that just yet.”

  “What would you have of me in payment for your remaining silent about my intervention?”

  “Could I talk to my mom for a minute?” I asked, my voice breaking.

  The angel’s aspect softened, and the blaze of light dimmed. “I’m so proud of you, Isa. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t protect Zak well enough.”

  Mom tilted her head as if looking down the road. “He made his choices. He’s happy with them.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t keep other witches from falling for Dad.”

  “His heart is too bright to hide under a bushel. Don’t fret the choices that aren’t yours, poppet. Your own burden will be hard enough.” She wrapped her arms around me.

  I breathed in her smell. The hug was what I needed all along. The ability to do miracles means nothing unless you have love. I fell asleep in those arms, relaxed for the first time in a year.

  38. Survivors

  Luca and I answered the same questions more times than I could count. Our stories matched perfectly. Hunter wanted to kill me for getting him fired. For the sake of the media, the injured teachers and secretary were the main heroes. Blaise had sacrificed herself to hold him still while first responders shot him.

  I didn’t deviate from our story until the matriarch questioned me in Bradstreet’s office, using the headmistress as a lie detector. For them, I was brutally honest, laying out all my deductions. However, I told them that the Curse of Nebuchadnezzar was something my mother had shown me. Bradstreet narrowed her eyes at the wording, but she said nothing.

  When I finished, Mrs. Cotton looked frightened to be in the same room as me. “Forgive me. I had no idea the Raggedy Andy had so much influence or what my compromise would lead to.”

  “If you mean that, you’ll throw a sacred circle around that whole asylum. Don’t warn them. Just clean out the viper’s nest.”

  Her look changed to one of panic. “I don’t have the kind of manpower we can trust to mount that large an operation so soon.”

  “Then use Special Branch.”

  “I’ll owe them too much.”

  I laid a hand on hers. “Not if you frame it as a favor to them and a leak of information to stop the Advent Killer. You’ll build a reputation for integrity and swift retribution. What happened to Emma and the coach could’ve happened to Lilith. She ran to defend me with only a bottle of mace. If I hadn’t spotted the golem early, a lot more children could have died—like the ten witches Harlow sacrificed.”

  Bradstreet’s face shifted to smoldering anger. “Matriarch, if you don’t take action, I will. Justice Endecott’s faction no longer protects the killer.”

  “The dark members might rebel,” replied Cotton.

  The headmistress played with a pen on her desk. “What if you present it as a compromise? Isa wants to be an Inquisitor and track down everything missing from the Oubliette as her senior project. By sacrificing the man responsible for her mother’s death, you’ll head off greater disaster. They’ll understand revenge.”

  “Fine.” Turing to me, Cotton said, “But no one must know the depth of the corruption, not even your family. Are you willing to take this secret to your grave?”

  “As I shall all confidences, matriarch,” I said, bowing.

  Once Cotton was gone, the headmistress motioned me over to her chair. “Whatever story we release, the factions are going to suspect that you single-handedly killed the golem and wiped Harlow’s mind. Rumors will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

  I snorted. “That’ll be the least of my problems. I won’t be able to set foot in public to hear the gossip. What happened to Lucretia’s grandmother? Why didn’t her wards work?”

  “They caught her on the garden terrace. She died without revealing anything about you, a true defender of the faith. You inspired her.”

  Still weak, I sat on her desk. “Then who did the cops brin
g you to read?”

  “Her nurse. She gave up your photo to survive.”

  “I’ll visit her when she gets home from the hospital to let her know I understand.”

  Bradstreet shook her head. “It’s already been forgotten, child.”

  Staring her straight in the face, I asked, “Are you afraid of Hurricane Isa, too?”

  “Your power isn’t in toppling petty kingdoms. You’re alive today because your actions and honesty make people love you and make people better. I can’t predict what it’ll change for us as a people, but perhaps it needs changing. I’m not your judge. My job is to keep you alive until you graduate.”

  ****

  School was closed the rest of the week. All the senior girls received commendations for their level-headedness under fire. The office secretary had a broken jaw, but she would be back in eight weeks. Coach Williams’ foot and wrists would never be the same, so she retired on disability with some sort of medal. Luca sacrificed her own plot in the family cemetery so that Gran-gran and Blaise could be buried together. People with Books had that kind of power. Everyone in the witch community came to the funeral.

  I rode with Vincenzo early so Lilith and I could stand beside Luca. Both of them were hoping someone shaking her hand might spill a confession. Technically, I represented the Hutchinson family, along with Blaise’s grandmother, but very few people came to pay their respects to her. It turned out that she was also Gran-gran’s lawyer. As a former magistrate, she wore a constant frown. I covered by telling Grandma H how shy Blaise was and how she was only came out of her shell around the other Rejects. My friends and their stories comforted her.

  Dad arrived a few minutes late, escorting Emma. He opened doors for her and kept the journalists away. Vincenzo greeted him and helped block the photographers at the entrance.

  Emma had a sling and a cast on each arm. Her black dress was, of necessity, sleeveless. I broke formation in the reception line to meet her. “How are you?”

  “Off pain meds,” she said, squeezing my fingers with her own. Her left shoulder looked like a peacock’s tail with all the bruising. Her body had been broken in more places than a China doll falling off a shelf.