Devil's Pawn

by Levinson, Marilyn

  Andy won the first round, but I beat him in the next two.

  “Break time!” Pol declared, entering the room with a tray of cookies, ice cream, and soda.

  “Can you play this game alone?” I asked.

  “Sure, though it’s not as much fun. Why do you ask? Your computer’s not connected.”

  “It will be soon,” I said, grinning. “I’ve convinced my uncle I need my electronic devices.”

  “How did you manage that?” Pol asked. “Raymond Davenport usually calls the shots.”

  I shrugged, not wanting to talk about my uncle. There were too many things about him I needed to figure out first.

  Instead, I said, “This morning a funny old lady spooked me while I was waiting for the bus. She shouted out some really strange things and did it again when I got home from camp.”

  “What did she look like?” Pol asked.

  “She had long, straggly gray hair and wore a dress down to the ground.”

  “What did she say?” Andy demanded.

  I pretended I couldn’t remember, though her words were branded in my memory. “Some kind of warning. About evil.”

  Pol laughed. “That sounds like Lucinda Davenport.”

  I gaped at her. “Davenport? You mean she’s a relative of mine?”

  “She’s your uncle Raymond’s aunt,” Andy said.

  “Your grandfather’s sister,” Pol explained. “Lucinda was always strange. Mom says she grows weirder the older she gets.”

  I swallowed, dreading to ask the next question. “Did you know my grandparents?”

  “We used to see them around town,” Pol said. “After your grandmother died, your grandfather moved to Florida. Did you ever visit him there?”

  “Never!” I felt a flush of red anger at my parents. Andy and Pol had known my grandparents, and I’d never had the chance to meet them.

  “Weird!” Andy commented. “Though I wouldn’t mind if Mom and Dad cut the cord to most of our aunts and uncles.”

  It suddenly struck me. “Her name’s Lucinda!”

  “Yep,” Andy said.

  I took a deep breath, terrified because I was about to break my privacy rule. “I wonder if Lucy was named after her.”

  “Who’s Lucy?” Pol asked, as she had the night before.

  “My sister.”

  The twins exchanged surprised glances. I could see they wanted to ask me a million questions, but their good manners held them in check.

  “She died with my parents in an auto accident. She would have turned nine in May.”

  “Sorry, dude.” Andy gave my arm a half-hearted punch.

  Pol simply nodded. She turned quickly away, hoping I hadn’t seen her tears.

  I stared ahead, at the blank wall. “It happened during winter vacation. I’d been on a skiing trip in Vermont with a group from school—working ferociously on my christies during the day, smooching with Ariana Cutherson till all hours of the night. I was having the time of my life and barely gave a thought to my family.

  “Lucy texted me the last evening of the trip. She was frightened because our parents were acting weird. I calmed her down and reminded her they usually acted weird. I got her to laugh, and said I’d see her when I got home. A few minutes later my father called to say they were coming to pick me up and should be arriving some time after midnight.

  “‘Why are you coming all the way to Vermont?’” I asked.

  “‘Just do as you’re told,’ Dad said. He apologized for snapping and said he and my mom loved me very much.”

  “That is a little—” Andy said.

  “Bizarre. I know.” I swiped at the tears on my face. Pol handed me a tissue, and I blew my nose. “I’ve gone over it again and again, and I still can’t figure out why they drove up to Vermont that night.

  “It began to snow. Dad wasn’t a great driver under ordinary circumstances. It was stupid, their coming all the way to Vermont when I was going home on the bus the following day. I called my parents to tell them this, but both their cell phones were not in service.

  “Midnight came and went. I started to panic. Was the drive taking longer because of the weather, or were they stuck in a snowdrift? One of the teachers stayed with me in the motel lobby while I paced up and down the carpet. He finally fell asleep, and so did I. A policeman woke me up at dawn. There’d been an accident, he told me. The car exploded. My parents and Lucy were killed.”

  “How awful,” Andy said. “Did a car crash into them?”

  “There was no other car. The police said the cause was inconclusive, whatever that means.”

  We sat in silence. I tried desperately to remember what I’d known about my parents’ lives. They had no close friends. They never involved themselves in community activities and remained on cordial but distant terms with our neighbors. It was almost as though they were hiding from something. Or someone.

  But Mom had been close to her sister. Aunt Grace was to be Lucy and my guardian if anything ever happened to our parents. She must have been out of the country at the time of the accident, since the authorities couldn’t contact her. But surely she was back home by now! Why didn’t I think of this before? I’d call her the minute I had my phone back in service.

  But first I had another relative to contact. “Where does my great-aunt Lucinda live?”

  Pol fixed her all-knowing eyes on me. “On Willow Road, two blocks past the high school. You’re going to visit her?”

  My heart pounded against my ribcage. “Maybe.”

  “Be careful,” Andy warned. “People say she’s a witch.”

  “You’re kidding. Right?”

  Pol shrugged. “You saw how she looks and acts. Stories get started, probably as jokes. Though some people swear strange things have happened.”

  “Sometimes they do,” Andy said. “Come on, Pol. You heard that when a Canadian guy tried to rob Lucinda’s house, a demon flew out and broke his arm.”

  Pol rolled her eyes. “Like I said—stories. Turns out, Lucinda was home and took care of the robber by herself with a rolling pin.”

  I stood. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  Pol shot me her inscrutable smile. “It’s the only stone house on Willow.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LUCINDA’S HOUSE WAS set far back from the road, behind an overgrown tangle of trees and shrubs. Kind of like the woods Hansel and Gretel got lost in. Lucy used to beg to hear that story again and again, even after she could read it herself. She’d liked it because it showed kids were so smart they could outwit a witch.

  A witch! I stared at my great-aunt’s front door and told myself Lucinda wasn’t a witch. There were no such creatures, at least not in the fairy tale way! I pulled back my shoulders and, not seeing a bell, knocked.

  She stood in the doorway, her bright blue eyes raking me up and down like cat’s claws. “Clever boy, you found your way.”

  My heart leaped into my mouth and I turned to run. My aunt’s cackle chased after me.

  “Don’t be afraid. I’m your great-aunt Lucinda and I’ve things to tell you. Come along, Gregory.” She spun around and walked through the cozy sitting room, not waiting to see if I was following.

  “My name’s Simon,” I said when we stopped in the kitchen at the back of the house. “Don’t call me Gregory.”

  “That’s what they named you when you were born,” Lucinda said. She pointed to the table against the kitchen wall, and I sat down. “I should know. I saw you when you were five minutes old.”

  “You did?”

  I stared at Lucinda, but she was pulling a dish from the oven. I became aware of the delicious aroma wafting through the small house.

  “Apple crumb cake,” she announced, setting it on top of the stove. “I hope you’ve room for a piece or two, after everything you scarfed down at your friends’ house.”

  “Well, sure. I’d love a piece, but how did you know—?”

  “I know lots of things, Gregory, most of which I wish I could erase from my min
d for the pain they cause.”

  “Please don’t call me Gregory. He calls me that.”

  “Your uncle Raymond.” Lucinda grimaced. “He’s some piece of work, isn’t he?”

  “He took me in. I’m grateful for that.”

  “He did it for his sake, not yours.” She let loose a cackle of laughter. “Raymond only does what serves Raymond. He’s evil through and through.”

  Her words sent a shiver down my back.

  She cut me a square of apple cake. “Bite in. Tell me how it tastes.”

  It had to be the best apple cake ever. “It’s awesome!”

  Lucinda grinned, showing teeth yellowed with age. She had to be at least eighty-five years old. “Your father always liked my apple cake.”

  My heart began to race. “You knew my father?”

  “Of course. Edward was my nephew, wasn’t he? Same as Raymond. Only those two boys had nothing in common. I’ll pour you a glass of milk.”

  Lucinda set the glass in front of me and added hot water to her mug of tea. I sipped and ate, wondering which of the many questions swarming around in my head to ask first. Before I could decide, Lucinda got in a question of her own.

  “You thought I was a nutter, didn’t you, saying those things to you out in broad daylight?”

  I nodded.

  She grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “It was the only way to grab your attention. As it is, the people of Buckley think I’m mad. I tell them what I know to be true and they laugh at me.”

  I thought back to what she’d said to me earlier in the day. “Uncle Raymond’s evil?”

  Lucinda nodded. “Indeed, he is. It’s not all his fault, but he’s made the most of our curse. He’s the worst of the lot.”

  I blinked, confused. “I don’t understand. What’s he done?”

  “Terrible things, judging by his sudden good health.”

  “Yeah, I noticed he looks much better than he did when I first met him. But what terrible things are you talking about?”

  Lucinda seemed to shrink within herself as her cheeriness disappeared. I noticed the sunken cheeks, the lines and wrinkles on her face. She reminded me of an old gnarled tree.

  “Our family isn’t like other families, but I’m sure you know that by now.”

  “I really don’t. I never met any of my father’s relatives until after the accident.”

  “That’s because your father tried to protect you. But he didn’t do a good job of it, because here you are again, back in Buckley and living with Raymond.”

  Frustrated, I pounded the table. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about! Would you please tell me what you mean?”

  “Your father never told you anything about his family? Never explained why he and your mother grabbed you and sped away in the dead of night?”

  I shook my head.

  “Your father was an honorable man. He considered the powers some members of our family have to be evil. And he was right.”

  “That word again—‘evil.’ It’s so old-fashioned.”

  “It’s evil to drain young people of their lives so you can live longer.”

  The awful image of a plastic tube being thrust down a little girl’s throat flashed in my mind. “Melissa Gordon,” I murmured.

  Lucinda nodded, her expression grim. “And there were others. Why do you think Raymond’s brimming with good health these days?”

  I stared at her, wishing I’d never come to this house. This town. “If you know, why don’t you tell the police? Do something, so there won’t be any more murders!”

  Lucinda pounded the table with her fist. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? But I’ve no proof, just my own hideous knowledge.” Her voice lowered to a mumble. “Besides, I’ve my own checkered past to live down.”

  I suddenly envisioned a bikini-clad young Lucinda riding a white horse through town. Now where did that come from?

  “The people of Buckley see Raymond as a wealthy entrepreneur and respected member of the town council, while I’ve been labeled a witch. If I insist Raymond’s behind all those children’s deaths, he’ll find a way to lock me up in a psychiatric ward.”

  What kind of family am I part of? No wonder my parents ran from this town. “Are you a witch?” I asked.

  “Of course not! And I’m not like Raymond, his father, and mine—capable of draining another person’s life force to enhance their own. But my senses are heightened, well beyond the ordinary range. Last night they shook me hard, like my own personal hurricane. I figured it had something to do with Raymond.” She gazed at me, her expression gentle. “And you.”

  “Me?” Chills ran down my back. “But he hasn’t done anything to me. I mean, I don’t especially like him, but...”

  “As I said, everything Raymond does has a reason, a reason that serves Raymond Davenport. He’s evil, Gregory—I mean, Simon. You must close yourself to him.”

  “Close myself.” I echoed the familiar expression. “My dad taught me to do that when I was little. Bizarre thoughts and images used to fill my head and drive me nuts. I learned how to block them and eventually it became automatic. Until today.”

  “You’ve learned to close yourself automatically, but there are other methods of attack.” Lucinda squinted at me. “Are you absolutely positive Raymond didn’t hypnotize you?”

  I thought a bit. “I had this weird dream in the middle of the night. I woke up with a headache and what seemed like memories, only they weren’t my memories. Do you think Raymond did that?”

  My great-aunt stared at me with terror in her eyes. “My God! That’s something no Davenport has dared to try since Uncle Frank’s fiasco.”

  “You’re scaring me. What are you talking about?”

  “You should be scared, Simon. Raymond hypnotized you and performed an infusion. He intends to take over your mind and body.”

  I shivered as an arctic cold blasted through me. “Then where will I be?”

  Lucinda closed her eyes. “As good as buried thirty feet beneath the ground.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MY FIRST IMPULSE was to run as far as I could—out of Buckley, out of New York, maybe out of the country. Lucinda must have sensed my panic, because she led me into the sitting room and sat me down on the sofa. Her bony hand on mine was comforting.

  “Think, boy, before you take off half-crazed. I have about forty dollars to give you, and where would that take you? Your uncle’s no fool. He’ll have a manhunt after you before you leave the county.”

  She was right. My heart fluttered like a bird trapped in a well. “I won’t go back to that house! He’ll do that infusion thing again!” I put my hands over my head. “I don’t want his thoughts and memories inside me!”

  “This time you’ll be ready for him.”

  I stared at Lucinda. She was my great-aunt and she meant well, but she was a bit loony herself. “I’m no match for Uncle Raymond.”

  “You’ve powers of your own, Simon. I sensed them this morning.” She grinned. “For one thing, I bet your hearing’s especially acute.”

  “It is.”

  Lucinda’s expression hardened. “My baby brother had a sharp ear. It’s part of a special combination of talents. Too bad he was done away with at age nine.”

  “Done away with?” My heart, which was racing, began to beat even faster. “You mean somebody killed him?”

  “His own grandfather. For the life force.” She snorted. “Don’t worry, I paid him back as soon as I could. Sent his blood spurting like a geyser.”

  I stared at her, horrified to learn that she, too, had murdered. “What did they do to you?”

  “Nothing.” She shrugged. “There wasn’t a mark on him, so the police had nothing to go on. But my parents knew. They didn’t want to lose another child, so they sent me to live with cousins in Canada.”

  “No wonder my parents left Buckley.”

  “Of course.” Lucinda’s tone softened. “Edward had no stomach for the family’s talents and vices. He w
anted to live a normal life.”

  “Do you think Raymond killed my parents?”

  “I couldn’t say, but I wouldn’t put it past him if he wanted you.”

  My hands curled into fists. “I’ll make him pay somehow.”

  “You can only make him pay by defeating him, completely and thoroughly.”

  “You mean actually kill him? I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “Let’s take first things first. You said your father taught you to close your mind.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. That’s a start. Show me how you do it.”

  I closed my eyes and stilled my thoughts as Dad had taught me to do when I was two or three. The cloud of peace that usually took on the color of lavender filled my mind, ridding it of all outside influences. An alien force tried to intrude, but I blocked it.

  “Very good,” Lucinda said after a while. “You were able to resist my will.”

  Still in a dreamy state, I smiled. “Today in camp I was able to zoom in on some of the younger kids’ emotions. That never happened before.”

  Lucinda cackled with glee. “Raymond would have a fit if he knew his infusions were enhancing your powers. Now I’ll show you a trick or two that will help you resist the effect of his infusions.”

  We spent the next half hour working on my powers of concentration. At last Lucinda was satisfied. “That should block most of his evil.”

  “Most of it?” I didn’t like the sound of this.

  Lucinda frowned. “Raymond has more experience at this than you do, but on a deeper level you’re more than his match. The trick is to let him think he’s taking over your mind without letting him go far.”

  My heart nearly jumped into my throat. “But what if he pushes past my barriers? What if he takes over and I can’t stop him?”

  “I promise you that won’t happen. Raymond’s attempting something new, something he’s never tried before. He’s basically a cautious man. He’ll go slow and gradual. You’ve enough power and control to ward him off for the time being. When you need to heighten your powers, we’ll work together.”