by Geof Johnson
“I don’t know, Rita. I’ll have to ask the chef.”
They closed the door and Fred scowled. I hate them. I hate them I hate them I hate them! “Argh!” She waited until their footsteps died away before grabbing the little bag she’d hidden under her leg and slipping it under her mattress.
She looked at the table and the box full of herbs on the other side of the room, just out of reach, her chain too short. So near but so far. I think a couple of ingredients I used today are in the knockout powder recipe, or the counter charm. Can’t remember.
She picked up one of the spell books from the bedside table and began flipping through the pages. I need to find out and make sure. Never know when I’ll get a chance to steal the ingredients. She thought about the little bag under her mattress. Should’ve taken two. One for the knockout powder and one for the counter charm.
Fred pictured herself pulling the little bag full of powder from under her mattress when the witches weren’t looking. Then Fred would dump some into her hand and blow it at them, a surprised look on their faces as they collapsed on the floor, a look Fred would savor gleefully.
I’ll knock them out, grab the key to the ankle cuff, and get out of here. I don’t want to wait for them to slip up and tell me where I am. I want to go home now. Right this second.
She sat on the edge of the bed and ruthlessly scanned the pages of the magic book for the spells she needed.
* * *
Jamie appeared on the bed beside her and she kissed him before he could say hello. “They hurt me again!”
Jamie’s face grew hard. “Again? Did you do something to make them mad?”
“No. Rita said they’re gonna do it every day until I give in and do the blood bond.”
“You won’t do that, though.”
“Of course not.”
“Does it hurt a lot when they stick the doll?”
“Does sticking a knife deep into your thigh hurt?”
“I imagine. Is that what it feels like?”
Fred nodded, mouth pressed tight. “I want to hurry up and start giving them nightmares, so don’t get mad if I make our visit short.”
“I don’t blame you.” He exhaled heavily. “Are you sure you can do this without getting tired?”
“I’ll be fresh as a daisy in the morning. I’m the Dream Fairy, remember?”
Jamie laughed. “Before you go, I need to tell you…your mom wants you to try and talk to her in a dream. She misses you really bad.”
“I don’t know if I can find her, she’s so far away and all. I think I found you because we already have such a strong bond.”
“I’ll tell her you’ll try.”
“Good.” She put her hand on his arm. “Tell her I love and I miss her and I’ll see her soon. My dad, too.” She kissed Jamie lightly and wiggled her fingers goodbye.
Fred let Jamie go and slipped back into the realm of dreams, searching for the witches. Fred quickly found Rita’s slumbering consciousness, a red glowing form in the darkness, and circled it as she pondered what nightmare to conjure. The chased-by-the-ferocious-dog dream, Fred thought with a satisfied smile.
And I know just the dog for it.
Fred called up a long, open grassy field. At the far end stood a tree, with an upright ladder beside it, leaning against a stout branch. Fred willed her body into the shape of a gargantuan Rottweiler — good ’ol Ralphie — the scariest-looking dog Fred had ever known, only she exaggerated the jaws and turned her teeth into monstrous fangs, with wicked-looking spittle dripping from the sharp tips, for good measure.
Wish I could see myself in a mirror. Bet I make a fierce dog.
Then she dropped Rita into the scene, a few yards ahead. Rita’s eyes grew wide with fright when she saw the Fred-Rottweiler. Fred snarled. Rita yelped and bolted for the tree. Fred gave her a few steps head start, then bellowed a bloodthirsty howl and raced after her.
Rita shrieked as Fred’s jaws snapped at her bare heels. This is too easy. I need to ratchet up the panic some. Fred willed the grass to turn into soft sand under Rita’s feet, and Rita nearly fell as she stumbled on toward the safety of the tree. Fred chased her, barely a terrifying step behind, and let Rita get all the way to the ladder and pull herself up on a rung before clamping razor-sharp jaws on Rita’s bare heel. Rita screamed.
Now to start the whole thing over.
They were back at the other end of the field, Rita only a few steps ahead of Fred, the monster canine. Fred barked thunderously and charged. Rita shrieked and ran for the tree through the sand again. When they reached the ladder, Fred reset the dream, then did it again, and yet again. After the sixth or seventh time, Fred let the dream dissolve. That’s enough for now. She should be awake for a while. Now it’s time to harass Cassandra.
She found Cassandra’s sleeping form nearby and circled it, considering what nightmare to call forth. I know she’s deathly afraid of being abandoned by her mother. But Fred couldn’t bring herself to do that. I’m not that mean. What to do… Drowning! That’s a good one.
She put Cassandra in an enclosed steel cylindrical tank that was just wide enough for her to touch the walls with her arms extended and barely tall enough for her to stand upright. A dim light appeared at the ceiling. Cold water rushed in at Cassandra’s bare feet and she gasped in surprise. “Hello?” Cassandra called. “Anybody out there?”
The water rose to her knees, then to her waist. Colder, Fred thought. Ice cold. Cassandra shivered and banged on the side of the enclosure. “Help! Somebody. Anybody!”
The water reached her shoulders and Cassandra screamed. It rose to her chin and she had to tilt her head back to breathe, gasping into the small gap between her face and the ceiling. The water closed over Cassandra’s nostrils and Fred reset the dream, over and over.
After the seventh repetition, Fred stopped it and let it fade. That’s good, Fred thought. Time to torment Rita again.
Chapter 33
Jamie sat on the armrest of the sofa in his family room, feeling useless and ignored, watching Bryce and Melanie huddled over the computer in the corner. Melanie stood with her hands on the back of Bryce’s chair. She leaned forward and pointed at the screen. “There. Change that search filter.”
Bryce tapped the keys and said, “Jamie, did Fred tell you anything else that might help us?”
“No, just that she’s pretty sure she’s somewhere in the South. The witches have Southern accents and they dress in light-weight clothes.”
Then his friends ignored him again as they became wrapped up in searching blogs and newsgroups for any mention of Fred.
Rachel came out of the kitchen and watched them work for a moment before saying, “Do you kids want some lunch?”
“I do,” Jamie said. “I gotta go to work soon. So does Bryce.”
“Bryce? Melanie?” she said.
“Hmm?” Bryce looked over his shoulder. “Oh, hi Mrs. Sikes.”
“Do you want some lunch? I can make some sandwiches.”
“Sure, that’d be great. I gotta go to work soon.”
“I already said that,” Jamie grumbled.
“None for me, thanks,” Melanie said.
“Melanie,” Rachel said, “how’s your boyfriend?”
“Michael? He’s fine,” she replied without taking her eyes from the computer screen.
“Is he in town?”
“I think so.”
“You don’t know?” Jamie asked, but she didn’t answer. She had shifted her hand to Bryce’s shoulder and he only glanced at her before turning his attention back to his task.
Jamie scowled. They don’t even know I’m here. I might as well be invisible.
“Dang.” Bryce drummed his fingers on the desk top. “Internet’s slow today.”
“That’s because it’s the holidays and a lot of people are using it,” Melanie said.
“Jamie?” Bryce turned again. “Can you help us out?”
“Sure.” Jamie stood and went to the desk, put his hand on t
he modem and closed his eyes, sending his will into the cyber world. A few seconds later, the web page they wanted appeared on the screen.
“Thanks, Buddy. That’s a useful talent you have.” Then Bryce and Melanie proceeded to ignore Jamie again.
“Glad to be of service,” Jamie muttered.
Melanie sighed. “We’re not going to have enough time today. We’ll probably have to start over.”
Bryce glanced at his watch. “You know what? I’m gonna call into work and see if they can get somebody to cover for me. Then I can keep searching.”
“I can too.” Melanie patted his shoulder.
“Mrs. Sikes?” Bryce called. “Is it okay if we keep working for awhile?”
“Of course,” she replied from the kitchen. “Stay as long as you like.”
“And I’ll just be on my way to work,” Jamie said, but no one heard him.
* * *
Cassandra grunted as she dragged the folding table across Fred’s room, a magazine tucked under one arm. Though she wasn’t smoking, she reeked of cigarettes.
“Where’s Rita?” Fred asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, using her index finger to massage her sore ankle underneath the metal cuff.
“She had to go buy us some more supplies. We’re completely out of a couple of things. Adam and Eve root, for one.”
“Where’d she go?” Fred asked innocently.
“She drove up to….” She stopped and shook a finger at Fred. “Oh no you don’t. You’re trying to trick me.”
“But you’re too smart for that.” Dang. She almost said it.
“Of course.” Cassandra put the table next to the bed and unfolded a chair on the other side.
“Since Rita’s not here, can I sit in a chair too? My back hurts when I sit on the bed so long.”
Cassandra regarded Fred with a snap of her gum. “Okay. But don’t get too used to it.” She fetched the other chair from the corner and gave it to Fred, who pushed the table out from the bed to make room for it.
Fred sat down and said, “That’s more like it.” She rubbed her hands together. “Now, what are we making today?”
“Knockout powder.” Cassandra dragged the cardboard box close to her feet and pulled out a handful of clear plastic bags full of herbs.
Fred’s heart leapt. Knockout powder! She wanted to clap her hands with glee.
“But don’t get any big ideas.” Cassandra gave her a hard look. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ll have my eye on you all day.”
“Then why make it if you don’t trust me? Let’s make something else.” Please don’t agree to that.
“We got a lot of orders for it and we have enough stuff to make it.” She pulled out another bag from the box and inspected it closely, thumping it with one red-enameled fingernail as she gauged its contents. “Just barely enough. We’re out of most everything else.”
Fred’s mind raced as she considered the incredible opportunity that had just dropped into her lap. How am I gonna sneak some without her noticing? She remembered the little bag under the mattress. I can put the powder in that little thing, if I can get to it. Now I wish I was sitting on the bed instead of this chair.
Cassandra pointed to the stack of spell books on the bedside table. “The recipe is in that top cookbook right there.” She grunted a laugh. “Cookbook. Seems like what we’re doing, don’t it? Cookin’?”
“It’s like a cross between chemistry and cooking.” Fred accepted the mortar and pestle as Cassandra handed it across the table. “My chemistry teacher said that cooking is just chemistry with food.”
“You took chemistry? Never got that far.”
Fred paused for a moment, mortar in one hand, pestle in the other. I’m doing chemistry. Magic chemistry. She almost laughed aloud. If Mrs. Middleton could see me now! She pictured her teacher standing beside Fred in class, observing the mixing of the magical ingredients and commenting on Fred’s technique, all of the students in white lab coats and safety goggles.
“Fred, you okay?”
Fred blinked hard. “Just thinking.” She opened the heavy, red leather bound spell book on the table at her left elbow and flipped through it until she found the page she wanted. Then she began measuring and grinding, measuring and grinding. While Fred worked, Cassandra read her fashion magazine and snapped her gum until Fred finished grinding an herb. But Fred wasn’t allowed to mix the ingredients herself, but instead only worked with one at a time. Fred would grind an herb, then pass Cassandra the mortar. Cassandra would dump the contents into the white bowl, and when the spell was complete, pour the finished mixture into a little zip-top bag, seal it, and put it out of Fred’s reach. At no time in the process did Fred have access to the finished product. Cassandra might be dumb, but I guess she’s not that dumb, Fred thought sourly.
Fred eyed the little bag full of powerful magic. There it is. My ticket to freedom. How am I gonna get one without Cassandra noticing? Fred measured and ground an herb for another batch, thinking hard. As she tipped the contents of the mortar into the white bowl, she had an idea. She glanced at Cassandra to make sure she wasn’t watching, then tapped a little of the powder onto the table. I always spill a little anyway. Maybe she won’t notice.
Fred finished another batch, tapped out more of the pulverized greyish-green herb onto the table, and handed the rest to Cassandra, who filled a bag and returned to her magazine. Fred appraised the spilled mix before her. I don’t know how much to spill. I can’t measure it. I’ll just have to guess and hope it’s enough.
Cassandra yawned and stretched. “I’m tired.”
Fred looked up from her task. “Have trouble sleeping?”
“Had nightmares all night.” She yawned again. “I could use a nap.”
Fred smiled to herself and turned back to her work.
They continued for another hour before Cassandra stretched and said, “I gotta use the little girl’s room.” She laid her magazine on the end of the table and stood, grabbed the bags of finished spells and set them in the far corner of the room, out of Fred’s reach. “Just so you don’t get any ideas.” Then she pulled the herbs off the table and set them back in the box. “That’s so you can’t make any while I’m gone.”
Fred watched her leave and her pulse raced. Now’s my chance! She waited until she heard the bathroom door close before kneeling beside the bed and slipping her hand under the mattress. Her probing fingers found the little bag and she retrieved it. She scanned the contents of the table. How am I going to get the powder into the bag?
Cassandra’s magazine! She grabbed it and flipped through its pages until she found the subscription renewal card. Perfect. Fred tore it free. She held the little bag just below the edge of the table with one hand, and with the white card in the other, she scraped the powder into a pile. She heard the toilet flush and felt her heart hammer in her chest.
Take your time Cassandra. Check your makeup or something. Fred scratched the last of the powder into the bag just as she heard the bathroom door open. She zipped the bag closed and jammed it under the mattress, then, seeing the white card in her other hand she thought, This might come in handy. She stuck it under the mattress, too, sat back in the folding chair and smoothed her features as best she could.
“Whew. All better,” Cassandra said as she entered the room. “Too much coffee this morning.”
“I think it’s afternoon,” Fred said.
“Whatever. Let’s get back to work so we can finish in time for me to watch my show.”
Fred returned to her chore, but found it difficult to concentrate. Her mind was on the little bag of knockout powder, safely stashed behind her under the mattress.
When they finally finished, Cassandra held up the last bag and smiled. “Twenty-five. That’s good for one afternoon.” She poured some of the powder into her palm and inspected it closely. “Looks like the real deal. Want to see?”
She held her hand close and Fred leaned over, but before she could react, Cassandra blew the powder in
to Fred’s face. Fred coughed and blinked her eyes as they burned. “What did you do that for?” Fred said between coughs.
“To test it. We need to see if it works. Can’t be selling inferior spells, can we?”
“I hate you,” Fred managed to mumble as the room started spinning. Then everything went black.
* * *
It was nearly dark when Fred woke with a groan, lying on her side on the bed. “Oh, my head.” She sat up and rubbed her temples with her fingertips.
Cassandra appeared in the open doorway. “Thought I heard something in here. Are you awake?”
“Yes, no thanks to you.”
“Sorry about that, but it was your first attempt at that spell and I needed to be sure it worked.” She made a flat smile that didn’t extend to her eyes. “By the way, I searched you while you were out to make sure you didn’t steal any of the powder.”
“Didn’t find any, did you?” Fred challenged her with a glare.
“No.” Cassandra grunted a small laugh. “Now, are you ready to do the blood bond? I’m supposed to ask.”
Fred scowled. “After what you just did? Give me a break.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” Cassandra pulled the white doll from her pocket, withdrew the pin from its sash and jabbed it into its lower leg.
“Ouch!” Fred grabbed her ankle.
Cassandra pulled the pin out, shrugged and left. Fred stared at the vacant doorway. God, I hate you. I can’t wait ’till tonight. I’ll have a special nightmare for you…you…horrible thing.
Chapter 34
The next day, the two witches put Fred back to work. Fred, sitting on her usual spot on the edge of the bed, turned off the food processor and pulled out the gray plastic cup full of finely ground amaranth. She handed it to Rita, who inspected it with a professional eye before nodding. “Looks good,” the red-headed witch said, then dumped it into a new, larger ceramic bowl, bright yellow and glossy. “Now do the rest of the spell. Are you keeping track of the amounts?”
“I did the math,” Fred said. “I’m multiplying each ingredient times five.”
