Solstice, I thought. Everything seems to come back to the initiation ceremony. But Grey was wrong about Jade. She would bring help back. She was my sister and I trusted her.
“I’m going to make magician history once I win the competition,” he told me.
“What if Josh wins instead of you?”
“I’ve made sure I’ll win,” he said with a cunning smile. “My stage name will be known worldwide: ‘The Grey Ghost.’ My act will prove that ghosts are only illusion, and denounce fakers and charlatans like you and your grandmother and that candy-store bitch.”
He meant Velvet, and I shuddered. His aura smothered me like molten ash, making me weak and confusing my thoughts. No wonder Jade had been so scared of him.
“Watch your step—I wouldn’t want you to slip,” Grey said with a wry chuckle, his grip still iron-clad. “Your heart pounds so fast. Afraid of me?”
I pursed my lips defiantly.
We went down the same stairs that had led me to Josh earlier. I could see Josh’s room five doors down. I longed to call out to him, but I couldn’t with a knife at my throat. If only Josh would open his door and look out, he’d see the truth about Grey. But we stopped suddenly at a heavy door with no windows.
Grey slipped the knife back underneath his cape but kept a firm grip on my arm as he withdrew a set of keys from a pocket.
“Smile like we’re just out for a walk,” he warned. “My magic act is all about the brutal swiftness of the knife. If you try to run, I’ll drop you with a knife before you make it to the stairs. Then I’ll go after Josh.”
“He’s your friend.”
“He’s my competition.”
“Jade told me you threatened to kill him.”
“I’ll do what’s necessary,” he said, as if bragging. “Words hold great power, but actions speak louder. I warned Jade what would happen if she left.”
“Leave Josh alone!”
“It’s not as if he’d be much of a loss. Josh only plays at being a magician.”
“You’re afraid he’ll beat you in the competition,” I accused him.
“Not even,” he scoffed.
I mentally called out to Opal and any other spirits close by, a scream heard only inside my head. But there was no answer. I glanced down the hall again, sending out a silent SOS to Josh. Open the door. Look down the hall. Please—before Grey forces me into his room and … well, I didn’t know and was terrified to find out.
“Aren’t you curious about my act?” Grey said, his tone light, as if he enjoyed toying with me like a cat bats around a mouse before going in for the kill. “All the brotherhood will be astonished when they see the illusions I’ve created. It’s nearly ready, but a dress rehearsal could be interesting with you to assist me.”
He paused, studying me, then continued.
“When I reveal my act to the brotherhood, I’ll invite one of them to assist me. But they can’t practice with me or they’d learn my secrets. You’ll get a sneak-peak of the performance tonight—just like when Jade worked with me, before Master Arturo asked her to assist his wife.”
“I saw the cuts on her arm,” I told him.
“Unfortunately, Jade was clumsy. But I know you’ll try harder.”
He lifted his hand, a key poised to open his door. Stall him! a voice shouted in my head. Do not go in that room!
“What will I have to do?” I asked. “I don’t know anything about stage tricks.”
“Not tricks—the art of illusion.”
“What’s the difference?”
He gave me an are-you-really-that-stupid look.
“My stage branding will be blades.” He stared off as if seeing his name in lights on a marquee. “You’ve heard of a magician cutting his assistant in half?”
“Isn’t that kind of cliché?”
“Not my version. I slice my assistant into fractions. Hair slithers from a head like escaping snakes, eyes fall from sockets and float in the air, and blood pools into a whirlwind that sweeps out to my audience. And you, Fake-Jade, will assist me tonight in a pract—”
“Jade!” a woman’s voice interrupted.
Grey and I both whirled toward the staircase where Genevieve stood. Her hands were on her hips and her face was flushed with irritation.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Genevieve complained. “Why didn’t you come back to dinner? I told you we weren’t finished working today.”
“You did?” My throat was so dry with fear my voice came out raspy.
“Don’t pretend you don’t remember. You can’t hide out with your boyfriend to avoid work. I’m sorry to steal her away, Grey, but I need her assistance.”
Grey’s hands dropped, too casually, to his sides.
“Of course,” he said, with a dismissive gesture toward me. “She’s all yours.”
“Come on, Jade. You’ve really disappointed me.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her.
But I wasn’t at all sorry. I was relieved and grateful. Although Genevieve was acting annoyed, I knew she was pretending. Her aura was pulsing with bright shades of shrewd awareness. She had a good idea what was going on.
She was here to rescue me.
With a glance down at the burning red marks on my arm, I eagerly—gratefully—accepted the rescue.
*
Genevieve didn’t speak on the short walk back to her cottage. I wondered what she was thinking and how much she knew. But she didn’t ask any questions, so neither did I. When we reached the cottage, she didn’t lead me upstairs for more practice. She offered me a glass of milk and a crispy apple tart.
“The dessert you missed,” she said kindly.
Cooked apples never tasted so good.
A short while later, as I slipped on an old-fashioned cotton nightgown, I told myself I would leave in the morning. Jade hadn’t sent help, so I was on my own.
I slept soundly—I saw no ghosts and didn’t astral-travel or get any messages from Opal. While the rest felt good, I was disappointed that the other side had abandoned me as well. To make things worse, the sky the next morning was dark with heavy clouds, threatening rain.
Slipping back into yesterday’s clothes, I readjusted my wig and applied some makeup I found on a mirrored dresser. I resumed my role as Jade.
The cottage was silent except for the whistling of wind that shivered the windows. I wandered around, not sure what I should do. Was breakfast served in the dining room? Should I go on my own, or wait for Genevieve?
Her bedroom door was ajar, so I peeked inside. She wasn’t there. I was starting up the stairs when I heard a sound and saw her coming in the front door, carrying a basket full of blossoming flowers.
“Good morning, Jade.” She greeted me so warmly that I felt a little guilty for planning to leave. I hoped she could find someone else to be her assistant.
“What are those for?” I pointed to the basket.
“Enjoyment. Fresh flowers are beautiful and smell wonderful. Wait a minute while I put them in a vase then we’ll go to breakfast. Are you hungry?”
I nodded.
The dining room wasn’t very full, only a few men at the main table. I waved to Frank, who was busy in the kitchen, then enjoyed fruit, sausage, and fluffy biscuits. Genevieve told me about her travels with her husband and how she was always so proud to work alongside him. They’d performed all around the world, which seemed very romantic. Her stories were interesting and showed me her softer side.
“Poor Arty doesn’t understand why I want to be a magician, too, not merely his assistant. He’s cross with me,” she admitted sadly. “But he’s giving me a chance. He’s taken a lot of flack for it, too, from the brotherhood. It’ll be tough to win their respect. But I’m determined to succeed.”
“You will,” I said, knowing my words would come true. But I also had a sense of a warning, as if her dreams would come at a high cost.
I hoped to sneak away after breakfast, but Genevieve wanted to practice the act again. It seemed k
ind of simple. All I had to do was drink some water from a cup, then pretend to faint. I didn’t understand how this could amaze anyone, but then, I wasn’t a magician.
As I practiced with Genevieve, I could sense a presence hovering close by. Zathora’s ghost, I thought, eyeing the wardrobe. Her death had been so tragic and things hadn’t improved much if she was still hanging around. I could guide her to the other side, if I could speak to her alone.
When Genevieve announced that we were done and said she was going to take a nap, I felt a ripple of excitement. I could finally leave! But why not take a few minutes before I left to help Zathora cross over?
I went to my room and waited about twenty minutes. Then I tiptoed to the staircase, glancing over at Genevieve’s closed bedroom door. I stepped softly on the stairs, careful to avoid the middle one that sometimes creaked. At the top of the stairs, I hesitated, trying to remember what Nona had told me about helping ghosts stuck in limbo. Be confident, and tell them firmly it’s time to go to the light.
As I reached out to open the door, I stopped.
Was I hearing voices from inside?
Pressing my ear against the wood, I listened. Yes, definitely voices, both female. Genevieve and another voice I didn’t recognize, which spoke with a rolling accent, perhaps Spanish or Italian.
“… all ready for tonight.” Genevieve’s voice rose with excitement. “I can hardly believe it’s going to finally happen. All the planning and preparation leading to this amazing night.”
“You’ll be the amazing one in the family from here on,” the other woman said warmly. She sounded younger than Genevieve.
“I’ve wanted to have my own act for years. I’m tired of being ignored, considered merely the magician’s wife. Even when I assist him, I’m only another stage prop. But thanks to you, all that will change,” Genevieve said. “I never would have had the courage, much less the skill. You’ve taught me so much.”
“I shall rejoice in your success,” the other woman said. “Did you find the herbs I described?”
“Yes—exactly where you told me.”
“And the girl?”
“She’s eager to do what I ask.” Genevieve laughed. “I made sure of her loyalty by having Grey lean on her. I’m not comfortable with Grey’s methods, but since he wants my influence with Arturo to ensure that he wins the competition, he’s been very helpful. Jade was so relieved when I showed up and whisked her away.”
I covered my mouth so I wouldn’t gasp. Grey working with Genevieve? I could hardly believe it, and leaned against the door, straining to hear more.
“Clever Genevieve,” the other woman praised her. “The art of persuasion is a subtle form of illusion.”
“Jade is so grateful, and she trusts me completely.”
“But can we trust her? She seems different … almost like she is a different person. I am puzzled and wrought with unease. I think she sighted me yesterday.”
“Impossible! No one knows about you except me.”
“I certainly hope you’re right. Much is at stake tonight. Nothing must go wrong.”
“It won’t. You’ve taught me so much, and I am confident all will go smoothly. I’ve already crushed the herbs, so all that’s left is to slip them into her drink.”
“Mix it right before you give it to her. Are you positive she’ll drink it?”
“I told her it would be fruit punch. She doesn’t suspect a thing.”
“Excellent,” the other woman said approvingly. “Now all that’s left is the finale, where you’ll …”
Her words were fading along with her footsteps as she moved farther away from the door. I think Genevieve replied, but I could only hear a faint murmur of her voice. I had to know more. So I carefully grasped the knob and twisted, slowly, until there was a soft click. The door inched open.
Leaning forward, I peered through the crack. Genevieve’s back was to me as she bent over the table I’d sat on during practice, her hand clasped around the goblet I’d drunk from. When we rehearsed, it had been filled with water—but what would I be drinking during the performance?
Not fruit punch …
I leaned in closer and my gaze swept the room for the other woman. At first I didn’t see her, but suddenly there she was, beside Genevieve—her shining copper hair and almost glowing skin a starling contrast to Genevieve’s fair skin and coiffed blond hair.
“The words I’ve taught you and the jewels will burn with powerful energy,” the copper-haired woman was saying. “Once she’s dead, we’ll make magician history.”
I covered my mouth, stunned, staring at this woman.
I could see right through her.
Zathora.
It didn’t take a math degree to add up who was supposed to die on stage.
Well, count me out of here.
I backed up and practically ran down the stairs. I didn’t have a plan but I couldn’t stay here one more minute—not when the woman I thought was a friend wanted to kill me, and her accomplice was already dead.
How could I have been so wrong about Genevieve? If I didn’t have the ability to see and hear ghosts, I wouldn’t have found out a thing. Genevieve had totally conned me—even her aura hadn’t given her away. But at least I found out in time. And, if I hadn’t taken Jade’s place, Jade would have been in danger without even knowing it. She would have been led to the stage altar like a sacrifice victim.
But I had learned the truth in time to get away. I sent a grateful thanks to Opal, Nona, Velvet, and all my psychic mentors.
I stepped outside and the chilly wind slammed into me. The weather had changed; dense white-gray clouds churned with stormy fury. I inhaled the acrid warning of rain and clutched my shivering arms. Please let me escape before the sky opens up and attacks, I thought.
The wind whipped harder and I wished I had my jacket, but there was no turning back.
“Once she’s dead, we’ll make magician history.” The memory of these words taunted me, urging my feet to move faster.
But why was Genevieve plotting to kill me? How could she expect to get away with it? The brotherhood may guard their secrets, but I doubted they’d approve of murder. Watching someone die was not a magic trick.
Or maybe I’d misunderstood what I’d heard, and my “dying” was simply part of the act. I had practiced how to faint so it looked like I had fallen into a deep sleep. But sleep wasn’t the same as dead. When Zathora gave her infamous final performance, she hadn’t planned to die on stage; she’d expected to create a miracle of bringing herself back to life. Was that Genevieve’s plan? To create the illusion of killing me, then bringing me back to life? How would Genevieve prove I was dead? Parade my lifeless body for the audience to examine? Not if I had anything to say about it!
But what ticked me off even more was all the fainting practice Genevieve made me do when she knew I wouldn’t need to fake it. If I drank the poison, my fall would be the real thing.
So not going to happen.
Genevieve could cancel the show or drink the damned poison herself.
Wind buffeted against me as I hurried farther away from the cottage, too angry to feel its sharp chilly bite. I turned onto the path that had brought me here yesterday. Pine needles crunched beneath my feet as the gravel path turned to rough dirt, and some of the anxiety in my heart eased when I saw the gleaming white dam in the distance.
Freedom was so close …
I heard the bark and something slammed into me. Knocked down, I couldn’t breathe. Something large pressed on top of me. Gasping, I looked up just as a slobbery doggy tongue licked my face.
“Oooh! Get off!” I groaned.
“Sorry, but Roscoe gets so excited when it’s time to take our walk.” Frank stood over me, his wrinkles crinkling in a smile. He bent down with his hand out and I thought he would offer me a hand up, but instead he just pulled on Roscoe’s collar.
“Keep him away from me.”
“He just doesn’t know his strength. Don’t be mad.
Come on, let’s walk.”
“Walk?” I pushed myself off the ground, my palms stinging with red gravel marks. “Are you serious? Just look at the sky, it’s going to rain soon.”
“Roscoe needs his walk.”
“And a little rain never killed anyone,” a sardonic voice cut in.
He’d moved so silently, I hadn’t heard him come up beside us. But now I could feel his predatory aura. “What are you doing here?”
Grey shrugged, his pale brows arched as if amused. “Taking a walk. Henry isn’t feeling well so I’m going with you.”
“Glad to have you,” Frank said cheerfully. “The more the merrier. Right?”
I refused to reply “right,” since everything about Grey was wrong.
“It’ll be fun … Jade,” Grey said, with a mocking grin just for me. Then he stroked his cloak, running his fingers over the place where his knives were hidden under the fabric. A subtle but very effective threat.
I started walking.
*
Grey stayed uncomfortably close, his keen gaze keeping track of me at all times. I even tried Jade’s trick of bumping into Frank so that Roscoe broke loose. I sprinted off as if I planned to chase the dog, then turned in the opposite direction, toward the path I knew would take me back to the road. I’d made it only a few yards before a silver missile buzzed passed my head. A knife lodged itself into a patch of yellow wildflowers, narrowly missing me.
“Sorry,” Grey said as he came over to grab his knife.
“Yeah, sorry you missed.”
“I never miss.” He rubbed the knife on his cloak. “Were you going somewhere?”
He knew I had tried to escape and I knew that he knew. Why bother to pretend? I turned my back to him and hurried to catch up with Frank and Roscoe.
As I followed the graveled path, I felt Grey’s eyes boring into me. Watching to make sure I didn’t try to escape.
It started to pour just as we reached the main house, and I was drenched in the short distance to the cottage. Despite the rain, I didn’t lose all hope for escape. Once Grey left me, I’d sneak out again.
But Grey didn’t leave me; he led me inside the cottage and stayed. He took Genevieve aside and whispered in her ear. I didn’t need to be psychic to know that he was warning her not to let me out of her sight. And while Grey went off to his private work room, Genevieve stared at me in a new, suspicious way. Then suddenly she had chores for me to do.
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