Cackles and Cauldrons

by Sarina Dorie

  If we were going to resurrect the dead, I knew who Khaba would want, who Vega would want, and who Balthasar would want. If I was going to ask for the wish to cure people, I could heal a stolen heart.

  I had told myself I had given up Derrick. I loved Thatch now. It wasn’t that I would want to be with Derrick if he wasn’t evil, but I wanted him to live happily. Then again, Elric had claimed he was happy. He just couldn’t be around me. I was the catalyst for his curse.

  So many choices. Only one wish.

  “With my last wish, can I bring the dead back to life?” I asked.

  Khaba placed a hand on my shoulder. “No, that would be the creation of life. I cannot create.”

  “What if I brought back the dead, and you just sustained that ability?”

  He shook his head sadly.

  “Or if I made a wish for Vega so that she could resurrect the dead like I can whenever she wants?”

  He chuckled. “That sounds dangerous. I’m glad I can refuse that one.”

  “What will happen to you after I’ve made my third wish?” I asked. “Will you be stuck in here?” I pointed to the bong.

  “I will be housed within until someone else rubs my lamp and releases me to grant their wishes.” That didn’t sound very fun—or clean.

  I stared at my dirty hands. “Would it be bad if I fired this vessel in the kiln so that it isn’t so . . . dirty? Or would that burn you alive?”

  He laughed. “I see you’ve come to the bong conclusion. No, you won’t burn me.”

  I smiled at his pun. Seeing Brogan had brought the old Khaba back. I needed my final wish to be perfect. I needed to figure out how to free him while giving him enough power to do his duties. My biological mother had figured out a way by stamping the lamp onto his body and binding him to the school, but it wasn’t an infallible system. Someone always had to rub his lamp for him to use his powers. He didn’t have Brogan to rub his lamp anymore.

  “What do you wish for?” I asked.

  His smile turned wistful. “I would wish to be with Brogan. But I can’t bring him back, so that means I would be dead.”

  “I don’t think he would want that for you.”

  “Probably not, but you did ask what I would wish for. This is why no one asks djinn what we want for wishes. We’re a morbid lot, evil or not.” He circled an arm around my shoulder. “Think about what you want. Take your time. You don’t need to decide now.”

  I nodded.

  “Until that time, how will you have me serve you, master?” Khaba asked.

  “Um. . . .” I wasn’t comfortable with that title. “Can you just go back to being dean?”

  He winked. “Your wish is my command.”

  I needed to think of the perfect wish. I just didn’t know how to do so yet.

  After Art Club, Vega strode up the stairwell to my room, her heels hammering into the steps with the finality of nails pounded into a coffin. It was rare that she traveled up an entire flight of stairs to my classroom.

  She eyed me with disdain. “You sent your minions to fetch me out of the most important class I was teaching today so you could save some sniveling brat who can’t possibly appreciate what you did for him.” She crossed her arms, her nose stuck up in the air. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the one who glamoured that corpse from everyone’s view today. You’re welcome.”

  “Wow,” I said by way of thanking her without thanking her.

  It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder how Khaba hid evidence of my criminal activities other than brainwashing the principal and coroner and keeping them from remembering. But of course the issue encompassed more than two people. I wondered if he had turned back time. If he could turn back time, could he prevent a death? Could he undo Derrick’s curse from the beginning, saving both Derrick and Brogan? It was a question to think about and ask him later.

  “I did this for you. Only, I didn’t ask a favor of you. That isn’t in my nature.” Her eyes narrowed. “That means I was coerced by someone.”

  I wondered if she was afraid it was by the Princess of Lies and Truth. I didn’t want her to jump to the wrong conclusion. Or the bong conclusion.

  “I think it might have been Khaba,” I said. “I sort of enslaved him in the lamp like you suggested.” Not a lamp exactly, but I wasn’t going to go into the details with her. She would probably steal the bong if she got wind that it was his vessel.

  Her perfectly groomed eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t suggest you enslave him.”

  “You didn’t come right out and say it, but you said it would be something that wouldn’t be easy for him to give up and wouldn’t be something easy for me to ask.” It made sense.

  “He made you his master?” she asked incredulously. “So he lives in a lamp again? He trusts you that much?”

  “Why are you so surprised? Isn’t that what you were suggesting?”

  “I thought he was going to rewrite the staff handbook. That’s all. But this solution works too.” She shrugged.

  That actually would have been far simpler. It might have solved yesterday’s problems, but today had needed a bigger solution.

  Vega sauntered over to the shelves of clay pieces drying out for the kiln. “By the way, I heard from Pinky that Gertrude Periwinkle and Felix Thatch just returned with the principal, and they both look like shit. It sounds like all charges have been dropped against—”

  “They’re back?” I stood up from my desk so fast art projects fluttered to the floor. “Why didn’t you say that before. Where are they?”

  “Probably they’re still in the principal’s office. Too bad you didn’t wish for Chuck Dean to have a personality transplant. That would have been something.”

  I ran from my classroom, not bothering to lock up. Probably Vega would pillage my supplies, but I didn’t care. I needed to see Felix Thatch like an art teacher needed hot-pink hair.

  Mrs. Keahi stood with her back to me as she filed papers in the wooden cabinet behind her. I tried to tiptoe past her to the principal’s office, but she clucked her tongue. “Wait until they’re ready to come out.”

  As I peered more closely at the old witch, I realized that peeking out from between the strands of gray hair bound in a bun, there were literal eyes on the back of her head. That explained a few things.

  “Are Miss Periwinkle and Mr. Thatch in there?” I asked.

  She turned toward me, her lips puckered. “That’s right, dear. Have a seat. You might need to be sitting when you see them.”

  “What does that mean?” I sat down, my legs restless with nervous energy.

  They were both alive. They’d been released. Everything was fine. Right?

  When the doors finally opened, and the principal came out, my eyes feasted on the sight of Thatch. His suit was wrinkled, his usually beautiful hair a stringy mess. His face was bruised and scratched. Blood had dried on one side of his face.

  I covered my mouth with my hands, trying to muffle the cry that came out of me. I rushed forward, halted, afraid to touch him, and then started forward again. All sense of propriety and the need for secrecy left me as I closed the space between us.

  Gertrude intercepted me first, throwing her arms around me. “Oh, Clarissa! Thank you for coming to meet me. I missed you so much. You truly are my dearest friend.”

  I hugged her, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. She smelled like stale sweat and tangy metal. Probably she’d just saved me from being indiscreet.

  Principal Dean spoke quietly with Mrs. Keahi, but I could hear him nonetheless. “If you could brew some tea for them, I’d bet it would quench their thirst.” He closed himself back inside his office as Mrs. Keahi bustled off.

  Only when I pulled back did I notice how dirty and crumpled Gertrude’s clothes were. Her face was gaunt, and dark circles ringed her eyes.

  “What did they do to you? Did they torture you?” I asked.

  My gaze flickered from her to Thatch. At least her face
wasn’t all scratched up, but I didn’t know what else they might have done to her.

  “It was the most awful place in the world! They locked us up in iron boxes far belowground. The cages were small, and you had to hunch over to fit or curl up on your side. It was unbearably hot, and they gave me very little water because they were trying to deny me my affinities.” She leaned heavily against me.

  I walked her over to one of the chairs in the waiting area across from the secretary’s desk. Gertrude limped, and Thatch took her other arm. They hadn’t even been guilty, and they’d been treated horribly. I could hardly imagine what they did to the guilty. No wonder Witchkin were afraid to break the law or practice forbidden magic.

  Thatch stood at her other side. “Miss Lawrence, I take it you are well.”

  I nodded. I had been eating school food, sleeping in my comfortable bed, and living it up while they had been tortured. My gaze caressed his cheek. Too late I realized I’d projected my awareness outside of myself and brushed my spirit across his bruises.

  He touched a hand to his face where my eyes had caressed. A small smile touched his lips. Probably he’d felt what I’d done.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  Gertrude’s voice rose and then cracked. “Felix harried the guards on our way in, and they beat him.”

  “It removed attention from you, did it not? The guards were far more concerned with containing me.” He grinned. His split lip cracked and bled.

  He was selfless and loyal, qualities I admired. Though I suspected part of his reasoning for getting himself beat up was for the practicality of fueling his pain affinity. He’d manipulated his captors into feeding his affinity without knowing it. I could respect that cunning in him.

  His eyes met mine, invisible sparks flying between us. I wanted to taste his lips. My eyes couldn’t drink enough of him in.

  When Mrs. Keahi returned with a tray of tea and refreshments, tears filled Gertrude’s eyes. “Cookies. Such beautiful cookies. I never thought I’d have another bite of something so wonderful again.”

  I didn’t remember Gertrude Periwinkle being this overdramatic before, but then, she’d just lived through a traumatic event. She looked so frail and fragile.

  Mrs. Keahi poured tea, handing each of them a cup, her eyes full of concern. Gertrude’s hands shook so violently, I took the cup and saucer from her. Mrs. Keahi poured a cup of tea for me and set it aside on an end table. I was surprised she was willing to serve me anything from the way she usually glowered at me.

  Thatch dunked a cookie in his tea, but he didn’t eat it. He handed it to Gertrude. “Dunk your biscuits, and they’ll be easier for you to eat.”

  Gertrude smiled gratefully at him as she nibbled on the cookie. A small pang of jealousy threaded through me when I saw the way he looked out for her and took care of her, but I also knew that pity and compassion weren’t the same as love.

  It was when he gazed at me that the dull gloom of his eyes sparkled. It took all my restraint not to throw my arms around him and hug him.

  I handed Gertrude another cookie and held out her steaming tea so she could dunk it in. “What else can I do to help you?” I asked.

  “Tell me how my books are?” she asked.

  “Good. Great.” I had no idea. I hadn’t been in the library since the night Rudy had died. It had been the last thing on my mind. “The books are doing what books do. Getting read and sitting safely on shelves.”

  “I can’t wait to take a bath. And sleep for days in my own bed.” She leaned her shoulder against mine. “I need a new hat, and I’ll have to go shopping for one. You’ll come with me, won’t you, Clarissa? They confiscated it and stomped on the flowers and skulls. It was so sad. I’m so grateful you didn’t see that. I should hope you’ll never be so unfortunate as to be accused of a crime and await your punishment in prison.”

  I listened to her, but it was Thatch I watched. He sipped his tea. His eyes watched my every movement, so much melancholy mixed with hunger. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Gertrude lapsed into silence. Her tea was cool enough that she sipped it. She eyed my cup, and I handed it to her. She needed hydration more than I did.

  “It wasn’t as bad as my first stay in prison.” Thatch rubbed at one of the scabs etched across the line of his jaw. “This time I had a reason to want to live. My hope remained strong and my will to live fueled me. Every moment I thought about what I would do when I returned as a free man.” His eyes smoldered with intensity.

  I had missed him too. I didn’t know if my eyes said all that his did. Camelia’s note crinkled in my pocket.

  I handed it to him. “Camelia Llewelyn would want you to have this.” I quickly added. “I didn’t read it.”

  My curiosity wished I had, but it was between the two of them. His eyes scanned the page. From the pink that flushed to his cheeks, I suspected she’d said something that embarrassed him.

  “What did it say?” Gertrude asked.

  “She was a good student. That is all she was to me.” He handed me the note. “I have nothing to hide from you.”

  I tried to refuse the note, but he pushed it into my hands. I scanned the page. It was a very sweet note. Camelia had obviously had a crush on him, though the sentiments were one-sided, and she knew it. She had wanted to prove to him how capable she was and hoped they could be friends and equals. There was nothing scandalous implied.

  I handed the note back to him. He folded up the paper and placed it in his pocket.

  Thatch stood abruptly. “I shall make us restorative elixirs. Miss Lawrence, if you wouldn’t mind escorting Gertrude to the library when you’re done here, I shall meet you there shortly with a draft to rejuvenate her.”

  How ironic that only days ago, I was the one being escorted everywhere at the school.

  Gertrude drank another cup of tea and ate two more cookies before we headed to the library. She hobbled slowly, and I walked at a snail’s pace so she could keep up with me. I scrubbed out her tub and drew a bubble bath for her. Her clothes were stuck to her skin with dried sweat, and I helped her out of them. This was nothing like the time before when we’d undressed each other, sexually charged and full of siren magic. I felt more like I was undressing someone’s abused child than the blonde bombshell I’d often seen her as. Her ribs were bruised, as were her arms and legs.

  “Did they beat you?” I asked.

  “No. It’s from the iron in the cage.”

  She shook so badly, I had to wrap my arms around her as she stepped into the tub so she wouldn’t slip. She whimpered as I helped her in. I kept bringing her more cups of water, trying to hydrate her. Thatch came in a short while later, a bottle of amber fluid in his hand. He handed it off to me, giving her privacy in her bathtub.

  Only when I came out again did he draw me into his arms and bury his face in my hair. He took in a sharp breath as I squeezed him.

  “Too hard?” I asked.

  “No, not hard enough.”

  “I didn’t know if I would ever see you again,” I said.

  He kissed me. “I knew I would see you.”

  “Did you? Was it your Celestor powers of divination?” I used a haughty imitation of his accent.

  “No. I just had faith that if there is one thing I know about you, it is your determination not to listen to me that would ensure you found a way to save me from death.” He swept my hair out of my face and stared into my eyes.

  I smiled. He knew me well.

  “When will I get to hear the entirety of what happened?” His gaze flickered to my lips.

  I could already tell he didn’t want to know how I had enslaved Khaba to save him, planted evidence on Camelia’s corpse with her help to prove her killer was the Princess of Lies and Truth, or examined Rudy’s corpse to demonstrate his heart attack had been natural. Felix Thatch’s mind was on other matters.

  I didn’t want to ruin the mood. I wanted to love him and pretend everything was b
etter. The problem was, it wasn’t.

  “She’s still out there,” I said. “The princess killed Camelia as a . . . gift to me. And she’ll kill again. Next time it might be you or a student. I have to figure out how to stop her.”

  “We’ll stop her together,” he said.

  I didn’t know if that was the wish I needed to make from Khaba, or if I should save my wish for another moment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Morties, Don’t Try This at Home

  That night, in the sanctuary of my dorm room, I approached Vega about settling our debts. “We’re almost done with bargains. I would like you to finish the last favor I asked of you.”

  She smirked. “Which one is that?”

  “You know which one. How long will it take you before you collect everything to grant my last favor?”

  I didn’t know if I would have a chance to use the fire-retardant spell with Thatch now that the school had a new principal watching everyone’s moves. Between Chuck Dean and the Princess of Lies and Truth, I was too on edge to truly consider using this spell.

  My true plan was to spend time with Vega. I wanted her to reveal what she knew about the Princess of Lies and Truth. Vega couldn’t reveal the identity of my enemy, but she could leave me clues. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to study my enemy than by convincing Vega to do the task that this princess would hate the most—the thing she would imagine might bring me the greatest happiness.

  “We need a full moon, so another week.” Vega looked up from the spell book she was reading. “I’m in the process of prepping the challenging parts and making the spell easy enough that even a dunce like you can do it on your own.”

  Vega said it was a kind of ward, but it sounded more like a potion to me. The ingredients were strong, similar to the items I had once collected to try to break Derrick’s curse. They were similar to the list I’d seen in my mother’s diary, all powerful items like unicorn horn—or substitutes of slightly lesser quality like unicorn semen.