by Lori Woods
“That’s alright, Matt, just please stop following me.”
I wish it was Val following me instead of a kid from my class.
He manages a smile. “I’ll do my best not to bug you anymore. But to be truthful…I’m not sure I’m strong enough to resist.”
I burst out laughing. “Thanks, Matt.” I give him a smile. “You’re a very nice person. I like you …when you are not following me, that is.”
He blushes. “But now there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“You’ve been asking around about…” Suddenly, his eyes fill with tears. “About Polly.”
“Yes?” I think back to the two girls this morning, Carol and Gail.
“The thing is Polly and I had a big argument.”
“An argument?”
“After class.”
“What about, may I ask?”
“It sounds dumb to say, but a kind of triangle. When I’m not…when I wasn’t interested in dating either of them.”
“Who are we talking about?”
“Two of the senior girls. They’re both… they were both…sorry, I don’t know what tense to use.” He seems very upset.
“It’s all right, Matt. It doesn’t matter.”
“It was Polly and a girl named Carol. I doubt if you’ve noticed her.”
“I know who she is.”
“I’m surprised you do.”
“I heard her and another girl talking to each other. That’s the only way I know.”
“Anyhow…I’m sorry, but this is going to sound egotistical, and I don’t mean it to be. But they both were interested in me. Carol insisted we were girlfriend and boyfriend. We went out twice, that’s all, and I considered it more a friendship thing.” He pauses to wipe the back of a hand across his eyes. “Anyhow, I also went out with Polly. And each of them found out I’d… I was going to say dated, but in my eyes, it wasn’t that. Like I said, it was friendship. Well, to cut this short, Polly accused me of two-timing her, and we got into this argument. I tried to tell her how I felt, and she accused me of leading her on.” He looks into my eyes. “My God, if I’d known what was about to happen to her…” He buries his face in his hands.
“Don’t feel bad, Matt,” I say, “no one could have known.”
“Except the murderer,” he says.
“Yes, there is that.”
There’s one more teacher I want to talk to. I’ve saved him till last because I’m not at all enamored of either his subject or the man himself. It’s a class I have to take to graduate, but to be perfectly honest, I hate it. It’s called Spells of Black Magic, and the teacher is a man named Helbert Ebonich. I hurry to class to see if I can talk with him before too many other students arrive.
When I enter the room, I see he’s seated behind his desk, dressed, like yesterday, in a black suit, black shirt and tie, with a black cloak thrown over his shoulders—as if it’s too cold for him. Maybe it is, but the weather is warm. I think unkindly, Maybe he’s used to the weather in Hades.
“Sir,” I say, “may I ask you a few questions?”
“Ah, Suzy Maycomber,” he says as he rises from his chair and bows.
“Yes.”
“What would you like to know, my dear?”
He speaks like he’s a courtly old man, but he appears to be thirty at the most. Everything about him seems affected.
“You know that a student was murdered at the school yesterday.”
“A tragedy,” he says and glances at me as if to say, so what? But maybe I’m prejudiced and he doesn’t mean anything like that. But why does he have to be so pretentious?
“I’ve been talking to the staff and to students to see if anyone has ideas about who the killer might be.”
“And you expect me to know that?” His tone makes the answer a strong rebuke.
“No, sir, I’m just trying to cover all the bases.”
“Bases indeed! Life is not a baseball game.”
This is much worse than I expected. Why is he being so difficult? I’m trying to be straightforward, to be neutral in what I say.
“Of course, it isn’t. I’m sorry if my baseball analogy—which I admit is trite—bothered you.”
“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm?” Ebonich asks.
“Not intended, sir.” What is with this guy?
“Well, I’m sure I can’t help you. I know nothing about the murderer. I know nothing about the murder itself. I know of no suspects. And I barely knew the murdered student. And since you seem to like trite sayings so much, I’ll give you one. You’re barking up the wrong trees, my dear. And I suggest you simply take your seat. Class will be starting in just a moment.”
Wow! This man is totally unbelievable. I wouldn’t shed a tear to know he’s the guilty one.
“Such a sweetheart,” Snowball whispers into my ear.
“You said it.” I answer.
Within moments, the other students begin to arrive.
Once everyone is seated, Mr. Ebonich stands and comes to the front of his desk. “Each of you has a protection spell…or at least you should,” he tells the class. “If you don’t, you may be in trouble.”
“Am I in trouble, Suzy?” Snowball whispers, looking concerned.
“Shhh,” I tell her.
“You two in the back of the room. Would you like to tell the rest of us what you find so much more interesting than what I’m saying?”
I feel my face turn very hot. “My familiar is worried about whether she’s in trouble.”
He laughs. “Your familiar? How quaint. Now, back to what I was saying. I was starting to discuss protection spells.”
Protection spells? Against what? And should I cast my own spell? I think I better just listen.
“What we’re going to do today is test those spells; see how good your protection really is. To that end, I’m going to be calling up some demons. They are the ones who will conduct the tests.”
A murmur increases in volume, becoming louder and louder. Ebonich leans back against his desk, a cruel smile on his face as he glances around the room. Then he laughs. “Oh, don’t worry,” he tells the class. “These will be weak demons. And if they cannot break the spell, they’ll return immediately to the hell from which I’ve summoned them.” He pauses. “However…”
I look around the room and see fear and absolute terror etched on the students’ faces.
Again, Ebonich laughs. “Relax. I haven’t lost a student in years.”
I hear gasps and cries.
“I’m joking,” Ebonich says. “I’ve never lost a student, and don’t expect to now.” As he talks, he looks toward me and holds my gaze.
What is this about? I wonder.
“And if and when the demons do break through your protection, I’ll stop them before they can do much harm.”
Much harm! Just how much?
Snowball rubs her head against my ear. “I’m scared, Suzy. Really, really scared.”
I stroke her head and back, but don’t answer.
“All right,” Ebonich says. “Here we go.”
He stands straight up again and walks over to a girl who is sitting in the front row near the door. “So, Doreen,” he says, “do you think you spell is a good one?”
“I hope so, Mr. Ebonich.”
“I certainly do too.” He says some nonsense words and a small demon appears. It’s nude and sexless with skin like seasoned leather. It has two budding horns, one on each side of its forehead. It grins as it looks first at Mr. Ebonich and then at Doreen.
“May I, master?” it asks Ebonich.
“Of course.”
The demon tenses the muscles in its body and stares at Doreen. Nothing happens. It continues to stare.
“All right, little fellow,” Ebonich says, “her spell seems to be a good one.”
Doreen heaves a big sigh of relief.
“Ready to try again?” he asks the demon.
“As you command. Besides, this is fun. I can hard
ly wait to find a weak one.”
“I’m sure you’ll find at least one.”
The demon steps over to the next seat and stops in front of the young man who sits there. Blood has drained from the boy’s face as the demon bends over and sniffs at him. The boy cringes.
“What do you think, Hector?” Ebonich asks.
“Oh, this will be an easy one.” It turns to the boy. “Finished,” it says immediately.
The boy cries out.
“Feeling a bit of pain, are we?” Ebonich taunts. “Something like a toothache, but affecting your body from your crown to your toes?”
The boy looks terrified. He tries to speak but can’t seem to get out any words.
“Enough, Hector,” Ebonich says. “Enough.”
The demon looks away, and color begins to return to the boy’s face.
“Don’t worry, Hamish,” Ebonich says. “Once the demons have tested everyone, I’ll teach you not only how to cast a stronger spell, but also how to get rid of demons in case the need ever arises.”
Ebonich turns to the demon. “I think you’ve had enough fun for the day, so I’m going to send you back home. Until next year, if not before that.” He pats the demon on the head. “It’s time to summon your brother.”
Again, Ebonich says nonsense words. Hector waves to him and disappears. Ebonich says more nonsense words, and a second demon appears. By the time the fifth demon has come and gone, we’re at my row, also in the back like in Ms. Brewer’s classroom.
Then Ebonich skips right over me and goes from the girl on my left to the boy on my right. I frown and give the teacher a puzzled look. He hesitates for a moment and gives me the most evil smile I’ve seen.
Why did he skip me? I wonder. Should I begin to worry?
“Suzy,” Snowball says in my ear, “we have to get out of here.”
“We can’t,” I whisper back.
“Something bad is going to happen. I just know it.”
I know it too, I think. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Ebonich reaches the end of the row. “All right, students,” he says, “for those whose protection spell was broken, here’s a new one guaranteed to be much stronger.” He looks from face to face. “Repeat after me: Flexit, floxit, flixit, now I’m feeling strong. When a demon comes, it can do me no wrong.”
Soon, all those without protection are repeating the words. “The rest of you may want to make sure your spell protection is as strong as possible. You can make it so by using the same spell.”
The rest of the class recites the spell. “There we are, all finished.” He stops and looks toward me. “Except for one little thing. Testing Miss Maycomber.”
What is going on? I wonder. Why is he doing this? Why does he seem to dislike me, even hate me? I have no idea why.
Suddenly he calls out, “Demon, demon, dark as pitch, do your best to harm this witch.”
A demon twice the size of Hector suddenly appears before me. Reddish orange horns, at least a foot long, protrude from its forehead. Its mouth seems filled with dozens of teeth. I’ve never been so frightened.
Snowball screams and digs her claws into my shoulder.
The demon steps in front of me and looks into my eyes. Suddenly, my body is on fire, but there are no flames. Pain shoots through me, in my abdomen and chest, and in my arms and legs and back. I let out a piercing scream. How can such pain exist! Everything burns and hurts. I start to writhe. I lurch from my seat and fall to the floor, vaguely aware of the screams of the other students.
Suddenly, I remember Red Sumac’s use of fire. Somehow, I have to gain control so I can cast a spell of fire. Despite the pain, despite the fact that I’m covered completely in a cold sweat, despite the twisting and shaking of my body, I visualize a page of runes. Quickly, they move about in my mind. Ah ha, that’s it! I concentrate and suddenly the demon is flung to the front of the room and encircled by a ring of fire. He tries to run through it. His scream is long and agonizing. He tries to run another way. He can’t break through. I can see he’s in terrible pain, and for a moment I feel almost guilty, but I brush the feeling away.
Now I make the fire hotter and the ring thicker and higher. Only the demon’s head appears above the flames. My pain stops; the demon has lost control.
“Master, please. I beg you,” the demon pleads.
Ebonich waves his hands. “Begone,” he shouts. “Begone.” The demon is gone. I visualize a new pattern of runes and extinguish the fire.
Ebonich stares at me. “I never would have guessed,” he says and rushes from the room.
I force myself to get up. I collapse in my desk chair.
I pick up Snowball. She’s trembling so much I can hardly hold her, and she’s crying piteously. “I love you, Suzy. I love you,” she says.
“I love you too, Snowball. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.” I give her a hug, and notice the trembling is lessening.
Student after student comes up to me. “I don’t understand,” one says. “Why would he do that?” another asks, a look of shock on her face.” “I hate him,” another student says. “I hate him. I don’t want to take this class anymore.”
I remain in my chair, exhausted. I don’t want to move. The other students finally leave.
“Are you okay now, Suzy?” Snowball asks, still shaking.
“I’m okay, Snowball. Everything’s fine.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” I say and smile. But the first thing I’m going to do is cast the strongest protection spell I can figure out. I close my eyes and concentrate. Again, in my mind, I summon up the runes and order them into a pattern I know will work. Now both Snowball and I are protected with the strongest magic I can imagine. I stand up, feeling just a little weak.
“Let’s go find Alfie,” I tell Snowball, “and then go home.”
“I’m all in favor of that,” Snowball says.
Outside, I see Alfie hurrying down the steps from his school.
“I’m so embarrassed,” he says.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Remember that I told you I’d try to talk to the headmistress before school started?”
“Yes, you told me. Because she’s so beautiful.”
“Yes, yes, yes, that’s right.”
I wonder why he’s agitated. “So what happened?”
“I asked her to go out with me—to watch the puppet show.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Puppet show?”
His face momentarily lights up. “Oh, it’s one of the best, Suzy. The warlock makes all the puppets come to life. Afterwards, I thought we could go for some duck berry pie.”
“I see. So, did she turn you down, or what?”
“Oh no, she didn’t turn me down. She was very happy to receive the invitation.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“She said her birthday is Saturday—the day I asked her to go out—and we could celebrate it together.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
“She told me that this is a very special birthday. She’s going to be a hundred years old.”
“So?” I ask.
“Don’t you see? I’m two hundred! If we’d become involved, I’d feel like I was robbing the cradle!”
After the day I’ve had, I can’t help it. I burst out laughing.
CHAPTER 7
“Red,” I say as I walk into her classroom carrying Broom Hilda, followed by Alfie and Snowball. “I think someone is trying to kill me.”
“Yeah, all these things that have been happening to her can’t be coincidences,” Alfie says, giving her what I interpret to be an admiring glance. “Giant bird instead of a robin, attack in the library, and don’t forget the demon!” he adds.
“You might be right, little guy. It does sound that way when you repeat all the strange incidents, all the things that have happened to Suzy since s
he arrived in Hemlock.”
Red Sumac is the only one Alfie will allow to call him a little guy. I think he is a little bit smitten. Watch out, school mistress!
“Trouble always seems to follow us,” Snowball says. “Maybe I should learn how to be a mouser?”
“I think it might be connected to the murder. Maybe whoever killed Polly is afraid I might uncover him or her. Seems that everyone in Hemlock knows about me solving Rachael’s murder in Nightshade.”
“That sounds like a stretch, Suzy, but hey, you might be right, and someone is out to get you. The question is what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to start by revisiting the crime scene. You want to come along?”
“To the basement where the ghost of that terrible poet lives?”
“Yep, same basement,” I say.
“Please, Red,” Alfie says in his little boy voice. “I’m afraid of ghosts.”
“Suzy will protect you. What chance does a ghost have against a witch?” Red says teasingly.
“But…she’s still learning to be a witch. You, on the other hand, are an accomplished one. Please I’ll feel much safer if you join us,” Alfie says, and has the nerve to turn and wink at me.
That little scheming dwarf!
Red looks at me. “Do you really want me to come along?”
“Two…” Don’t forget about Alfie! I tell myself. “…Three heads are better than one,” I say.
“Last time I looked, I had a head too,” Snowball says.
“Yes, but it is mostly used for licking paws,” I remind her.
“I’m glad I don’t have children,” Red says as she grabs her broomstick. “Bring the kids, Suzy.”
Alfie opens his mouth to speak.
“One word and you remain here!” I say sternly.
He starts whistling as we follow Red out of the classroom
“I’m not sure what you expect to find at this late date,” Red says as we walk down the basement stairs.
The moment we enter the basement, the ghost of the poet appears.
“I am a ghost, and my name is Aubrey Dobbins.”
“Stop,” Red says. “We know who you are. Go away. We are not here to listen to your poetry and your silly rhymes.”
“I see. Good witch, bad witch, which is which?” Aubrey says, looking at Red. He glances over at me. “Purple baggers ride for free but can’t tell what they see,” he says to me and then vanishes.
