T*Witches: Dead Wrong

by Randi Reisfeld

  “You want to spend your vacation with a librarian?” Dave sounded skeptical.

  “But Alex,” Cam said, playing along, “she’s such an old lady, and so strict. Of course, I haven’t met her, except through her e-mails to Alex,” she told Dave and Emily again, “but she sounds so … straitlaced.”

  “Oh, she is,” Alex agreed. “Straitlaced and sensible. I haven’t been back there in over six months. Haven’t visited my mom’s — I mean, Sara’s — grave or seen my old friends —”

  “Of course, there’s not much to do in Crow Creek, except for that Big Sky theme park.” Cam groused.

  “Which closes for the winter,” Alex added.

  “Nothing to do but read.” Cam sighed. “I mean, I guess we could give old Mrs. Bass a hand at the library —”

  “Won’t Bree be disappointed if you change plans at the last minute?” Emily asked.

  “Like she’d notice?” Alex said. “Everyone else is going to be there.”

  “She will notice,” Cam interrupted, feeling more guilty than she let on, “but we’ll do something to make up for it when we get back.”

  “Okay,” Dave said, with a trace of impatience in his usually jovial voice. “What’s really going on?”

  Alex quickly shoveled a forkful of mystery meat into her mouth while Cam, as see-through as J. Lo’s designer duds, said, “That is so not fair. We were just —”

  Dave did a talk-to-the-hand stop sign. “You want to go to Montana,” he said. “You want us to trust you, right? You’ll have to trust us, then.”

  “Nailed!” Dylan grinned.

  When all else fails, try the truth, Cam silently advised her twin.

  Alex shot her an evil look. Hello, she said silently to her sister, if they know it’s to change Ike’s mind, Dave will have a gazillion legal reasons why we should stay out of it; and if I tell them we want to help a friend of mine who’s in “big trouble,” Emily’ll freak —

  Hello, Cam reminded her, they’re on to us. Under the circumstances, some of the truth’s better than none! Now, you want to do it or should I?

  Alex took a breath and put down her fork — which was no hardship, considering how vomitacious Emily’s cuisine was. Finally, she said, “I want to go home. Just once, before you become my legal guardians —”

  “If that awful man has his way we may not even be able to —” Emily began.

  Alex shivered. Ike had found out where she was and, without writing or phoning or trying to get in touch with her personally, he’d hired a lawyer, claiming that he wanted Alex back.

  Not gonna happen. NGH! Alex heard Cam assure her. And she needed the assurance. She needed Cam. The thought of living with Ike Fielding again …

  Cam took Alex’s hand under the table.

  We’ve got to get there — but how? Alex asked.

  Get the ’rents to finance our trip, Cam answered.

  Brilliant, Alex scoffed silently. Planning to mug them?

  Sort of, Cam shot back. Emotionally.

  She hated to do this. Actually, she wasn’t even sure it would work. But Cam aimed a searing stare at Alex, carefully holding back so that her twin’s eyes would sting but not burn.

  It worked. Not only did Alex start to cry, but she squeezed Cam’s hand so hard, Cam got misty-eyed, too.

  “Alex? Are you okay?” Dave put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Camryn?” Emily sounded alarmed.

  Not knowing where her tears had come from, Alex saw through blurry eyes that Cam was crying, too.

  “I’ve got some money,” Cam blubbered. “The money Grandma put away for me. I’ll pay for the tickets.”

  “I’m going,” Alex asserted. “I want to. I need to. Just once. Once before you guys become my guardians, I want to go back. I need to … say good-bye to Sara. To my mom. I miss her so much. I need to really say goodbye. And see my friends again. And the places we used to go.” She was sniffling back tears for real now.

  For a moment, there was silence.

  Alex heard Cam thinking, OMG, the girl is good. She’s a total Gwyneth!

  Finally, Dave cleared his throat. “We’ll work it out,” he said, looking at his wife.

  “Of course,” Emily answered.

  CHAPTER THREE

  COVENTRY

  Ileana felt it, smelled it — fear.

  Like an electric current, it ran up her spine. It stung her nostrils, left a sour metal taste in her mouth.

  Terror.

  Only it wasn’t her emotion. It was someone else’s. Far away.

  Whatever you want. I’ll call it off. I’ll tell the lawyers to leave them alone. Just… don’t hurt me anymore. My arm! Please, whoever you are, whatever you are, don’t kill me!

  “Ileana?” Karsh’s cry brought the beautiful young witch back … to the overwarm cottage, the pleasant crackle of the fire in the hearth, the green scent of the herbs she was chopping.

  “Are you all right?” he called from his sickbed.

  Ileana tossed her head, flipping back a cascade of pale blond curls. “Of course,” she answered, with her back to him. “I’m perfectly well. You’re the one who needs help.”

  But the awful feeling clung to her. The feeling — no, the certainty — that something bad was about to happen. Or had already occurred. Something evil.

  Well, what of it? What had it to do with her? She had her plans.

  Ileana refused to turn around to face Karsh.

  It didn’t matter. The wily old warlock could read her like a book.

  She was like a good mystery, Karsh had always thought, one that could be read over and over again and counted on, each time, to deliver new delights and surprises.

  Ileana was often bad-tempered, yet she could stun one with sudden kindness. Wildly self-centered, she would risk her life doing what she believed to be right. She was very outspoken — her words sharp as swords — yet it was hard for her to say what she really meant. And hardly ever what she felt.

  Though Ileana had never met them, had no idea who they were, the child Karsh had reared had inherited the different natures of her father and mother.

  From his sickbed, he studied her now. Tall, flaxen-haired, wrapped in her long velvet cape and elegant winter boots, Ileana was preparing herbs for his midday medication.

  “Haven’t you anything better to do,” she grumbled, “than stare at my back? Are you afraid I’ll mix up your potions and poison you? You know I can’t — not until you tell me where I came from and how you came to be my guardian. Which I think you’d be grateful enough to do by now.”

  Weeks ago, Karsh had been kidnapped. It was Ileana who’d risked all to rescue him. Now, she was nursing him back to health.

  Karsh rubbed his head and hid a smile. His once-thick curls had thinned to a nappy white fuzz — like a favorite plush toy rubbed bare by a child. “My dear witch —”

  “Call me goddess,” Ileana snapped, as he should have known she would.

  “Goddess, then. My well-being is of no great consequence. It is the twins we must protect,” Karsh continued. “As their magick grows stronger, so does their desire to protect and help others —”

  “And as their desire to protect and help others grows,” Ileana complained, “so does their recklessness.”

  “Indeed,” Karsh teased her, “they are very much like their guardian.”

  Fifteen years ago, on the day the twins were born, their father was murdered and their mother disappeared.

  No one had understood why Karsh urged the Coventry Island Unity Council to appoint Ileana, then a teenager herself, the twins’ guardian. The entire coven had thought Karsh was crazy to put the infants’ welfare in the hands of one so immature and irresponsible. But Karsh was Ileana’s guardian. And he’d promised the Council he’d guide her in the awesome task — though, even then, he’d had faith in Ileana’s talent and goodness.

  And, indeed, together they had kept the extraordinary little witches alive — against great odds. Their uncle Lord Thantos had
been searching for the girls ever since the day he killed their father. It was Karsh and Ileana who separated the twins, sending one to be reared in Montana, the other to Massachusetts, where they now both lived in the charming seaside town of Marble Bay.

  Ileana carried the potion to him. “Look at you,” she clucked mournfully as he took the herbs she’d mixed. “You’re skin and bones. If only that madman had given you your tonic. If only I’d saved you sooner. If only I’d been there when you were taken by his moronic brother —”

  She was speaking of the twins’ hateful uncles, Lord Thantos and his foul-smelling brother, Fredo. They had kidnapped Karsh in yet another attempt to capture the twins.

  Suddenly, the terrible sureness that something evil was happening assaulted Ileana again. But it was happening far away, she thought. Nowhere near Coventry Island and her beloved, bedridden guardian. But was it near the twins? Were Alexandra and Camryn in harm’s way?

  Once more, the terrorized voice intruded on her thoughts. She listened to it begging for mercy. Scrambling on its haunches across a carpetless floor. Nails clawing, boots scraping, as it propelled itself inside an echoing metal container. A railroad boxcar? No, something stationary, without wheels. Something that sat run-down and isolated in a snowbound field.

  Who was it? Where was it coming from? A frozen place with vast mountains and big sky. It could be anywhere.

  Except Marble Bay, she realized with relief. There was no hint of salt water, no cawing of seabirds.

  Confident that the girls were safe, Ileana turned to face Karsh. “Brice! Yes, Brice Stanley, the warlock movie star. I was supposed to visit him in California weeks ago. Big mistake! Naturally, I had to hustle off to Massachusetts to save our trouble-prone little witches. Then I had to single-handedly rescue you from that kidnapping mess.”

  “I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you,” Karsh sighed. “Why don’t you visit your friend Brice now?” he suggested. “Lord Grivveness or Lady Rhianna can stop by to prepare my herbs and —”

  “That is precisely what I plan to do!” Ileana announced. “Lady Rhianna, indeed!” she muttered. “That plump old dumpling of a witch can’t take care of you. Not the way I do.”

  Karsh tried not to grin.

  “Anyway, I’m not going to California,” Ileana huffed. “I can’t — ”

  “Why?” Karsh asked anxiously. “Are the twins in trouble again?”

  “No. Because Brice isn’t there. He’s making a movie in Mexico! It has nothing to do with our dear little T’Witches.”

  “T’Witches?”

  “Oh, didn’t you know?” Ileana asked. “That’s what they call themselves. Twins. Witches. T’Witches.”

  “How clever.” Karsh grinned.

  “They are certainly that. Too clever, if you ask me,” Ileana allowed. “Which, I know, you didn’t.” She sighed theatrically. “Well, at least you won’t have to worry about them for a while. For a change — a very refreshing change — they’re safe and settled in Marble Bay.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE HOMECOMING

  “There she is, Pop, in the red sweater! Get out, she let her hair go natural!” Lucinda’s shriek rose above the bustle of the airport noise. The grinning girl with the Raggedy Ann hairdo pushed through the crowd, hauling her father behind her. “No, there’s Alex, the platinum blond in the black peacoat!”

  Pushing past two businessmen exchanging cards, Lucinda flung herself into Alex’s arms. “It’s you, Als!”

  Lucinda, chunky with flawless pale skin and the sweetest dimpled grin. The last time Alex had seen her — months ago, last summer — Luce had been wearing her hair in a torrent of skinny braids, some of which she’d dyed red. The braids were undone now, but the dye was brighter than ever — a beautiful blazing black-rooted orange.

  Alex inhaled Lucinda’s special scent, the sweet, clean smell of baby powder. Evan’s scent, she remembered, was a rich dark chocolate fragrance. And Sara’s had been green and fresh as new-mown grass. For an awful moment, Alex thought she might cry. Instead, she teased Luce. “Sorry, I’m Camryn Barnes. And who might you be?”

  The real Cam was warily looking around the airport, focusing on men in suits and boots — pointy-toed cowboy boots, round-toed black motorcycle boots, mahogany dress boots — and women in big hair and shiny exercise suits.

  Snob much? Alex silently ragged her.

  Luce took one look at Cam’s open mouth and laughed. “No way, José,” she said, turning back to Alex. “You’re my true-blue BFF.”

  While they hugged, Lucinda’s dad pumped Cam’s hand with his huge callused paw. Then, Mr. Carmelson hugged Alex and Lucinda shook Cam’s hand. “I’m so psyched. I can’t believe you came!”

  “Where’s Ev?” Craning to see beyond Mr. Carmelson’s billboard-sized shoulders, Alex scanned the crowd, looking for her bud, with his high, wide cheekbones, tawny complexion, and wild, frizzy dreadlocks.

  Evan Fretts had been their rock, hers and Luce’s, their protector, and their designated driver from the day his mama, blasted on Wild Turkey, tossed him the keys to her rusty pickup and wished him happy birthday — two weeks after the fact.

  Evan’s mama drank too much. And cried a lot. And sometimes disappeared for days. But you couldn’t say a word against her. Not while Evan was around. He loved her to pieces. That was how he was. The more of a basket case you were, the more you could depend on him. So where was he now? “He hasn’t been arrested again, has he?” Alex asked anxiously.

  “Nope, it’s just, um, I didn’t tell him you were coming,” Lucinda admitted sheepishly. “I wanted to fill you in first. Let’s grab a Coke or something and talk while Pop takes your stuff to the car.”

  Alex allowed Luce to lead her through the small but busy airport. Cam lagged behind. Aside from feeling like a gawking tourist, Bree-guilt had been nagging at her since they’d left Massachusetts. Cam could still hear Bree’s rant ringing in her ears.

  “So I’m hearing you say you can’t make my gala ’cause you and identwin have elsewhere to be. Of course, trailing Clone Girl to be-it-ever-so-humble, her no-place-like-home is so more important than my fifteenth birthday,” Brianna had sniped.

  The words were Bree’s, the snide, pretend snobbery, but the emotions behind them betrayed real hurt. Cam’s sense that something was really off the hook bad in Bree’s world was stronger than ever. Cam pondered. Brianna had lost some weight lately, but that didn’t mean anything. Bree tended to bounce up and down — and besides, she was on this new exercise kick.

  Lucinda’s hearty laughter brought Cam back to the present. “You were at a rave?! Get out! Oh, wow, you guys, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Parts of us are,” Alex said, glancing back at her slowpoke sister. “Take Camryn, for instance. Her body’s here, but her brain’s back in Marble Bay.”

  Just tune in anytime, Cam silently retorted, annoyed that Alex had trespassed on her thoughts. My privacy is so a thing of the past. Aloud, she added, “I was thinking about Brianna. We’ve got to find her a totally outrageous birthday gift.”

  “No prob,” Alex promised.

  “As if. Bree’s so picky. What are we going to get in Crow Creek? There’s no one remotely like her out here.”

  “And that would be … a bad thing?” Alex teased as they stepped into the airport’s fast-food stall.

  Lucinda looked from one to the other of them. “You guys.” She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re still scrapping. Just like when you first met.”

  They grabbed an empty table on which the last customer had left a Styrofoam coffee cup and a couple of packets of sugar, most of it spilled.

  Cam raised an eyebrow at the mess, but sat down. She’d met both Luce and Ev the same day she’d seen Alex for the first time. The three of them had been working at Big Sky, the frontier theme park that the Barnes family — vacationing in Montana — had decided to check out. Luce remembered right. Their first encounter had not been pretty. Cam had been so shocked at seeing he
r face peering out from under Alex’s punk-gelled, blue-streaked hair, she’d gone into a whirlwind of sarcasm and denial.

  “So what’s up with Evan?” Cam asked, changing the subject.

  “Is Ike still around?” Alex asked at the same time.

  “Easy one first. I don’t know about Ike,” Luce confessed. “I checked around. Mrs. Bass saw him at the cemetery, you know … at your mom’s grave,” Luce said delicately. “And Pop heard there was someone hanging around your old trailer. That dog-ugly landlord of yours, Hardy Beeson, couldn’t rent the place, I heard. Too cheap to fix it up. But no new Ike sightings.”

  Alex nodded. “Okay. Now, about Evan —”

  Lucinda sighed, making circles in the spilled sugar. “His mom’s drinking got really, really bad. She started up again just before you left, remember?”

  Alex did. She remembered that after Sara’s funeral they’d talked about what Alex would do next. Evan had wished she could stay at his place for a while, only his mother’s drinking had gotten out of hand —

  “Anyway, first you took off, then Evan’s daddy left for Coeur d’Alene, in Idaho, looking for work. So Ev was left with his ma. And she started showing up at school totally loaded and just embarrassing him. So, naturally, kids started in on him, teasing him, making fun of her.”

  “Oh, no. That must’ve driven Ev wild,” Alex noted.

  “Totally,” Luce said. “They were, like, saying her Indian name was Firewater Fretts or Wild Turkey,” she explained to them. “You know Ev,” Lucinda said to Alex. “He had to fight every single one of them — so he got suspended for a while.”

  “And?” Alex had started picking at the Styrofoam cup, which seemed to be grossing out Cam.

  Do you even know who drank from that? she heard her sister ask.

  Gee, and I thought Emily was staying home, Alex silently responded.

  Oblivious, Lucinda rolled on. “So then he started taking up kung fu or whatever.” She rolled her eyes again. “He really bites at it, a total no-belt. And when we went back in September, he was different, Als. He was real angry and no fun anymore. I mean, he started avoiding me toward the end of the summer, and by the time school started up again, he’d stopped joking around, never teased or kidded me anymore. And also, and this is the bad part, he started hanging out with Riggs and Kyle Applebee and Derek Jasper —”