T*Witches: Building a Mystery

by Randi Reisfeld

  Karsh was staring at Ileana's computer. There it was, emblazoned above the screen, the 3Brothers logo. Thantos's company had manufactured the hardware and, probably, most of the software it took to run it. So rich, and yet so greedy, Karsh thought. Ileana marched over and abruptly shut the laptop screen. "Okay, so I'm e-mailing Brice. Big deal. We've been... corresponding. Is that a crime?"

  "Do you know who donated this computer—and all the others—to the island?" Karsh asked.

  "Don't change the subject. I was saying that Thantos might even have morphed himself into the messenger! And face it, Karsh, you're far too old to take him on. But I could—"

  "He would not be a messenger," Karsh said. "Lord Thantos is a busy man. A warlock used to 'delegating responsibility.' Getting others to do his bidding... his despicable dirty work."

  Ileana stared curiously at Karsh. There was acid in his gravelly voice, a biting anger she'd rarely heard. What did he mean, what long-ago time was he thinking of, remembering? What terrible dirty work had Thantos assigned to someone else?

  "Lord Karsh," Ileana said tenderly. He looked so weak, so fragile. Before she knew what she was doing, she had knelt before him. The thought of her beautiful silk cloak crumpled in the grass around her, her pale gown driven into the dirt by her own knees, disturbed her. But she brushed away such selfishness—for the first time, she realized.

  "What makes you so... sad, Lord Karsh?" Ileana asked with a gentle affection that touched the old man's heart.

  "You are right," he answered, "I am far too old." Taking her hand, he drew her to her feet, then he himself stood slowly. "I am no match for Lord Thantos. Let us hope I can still charm Lady Rhianna. She will be furious—"

  "You're going to teach me to transmutate!" Ileana exclaimed.

  "Yes, my brave dragon slayer." Karsh rubbed his dry, papery palms together. "Gather the proper crystals and herbs? Let us begin..."

  Chapter 17 – The Mummy

  "I hope it won't be bad karma," Amanda said, handing her candy-striper uniform to Cam in the hall outside their lockers. "Look." The inside of the pink apron was stamped PROPERTY OF MBM. "Mount Bay Medical. I forgot to turn it in."

  "So that's why the cops came to school last week," Sukari teased. "Dag! And I thought it was to bust Eddie Robins."

  "If this stunt goes wrong, they may show up again to arrest Cam," Beth grumbled, totally forgetting that she'd been sworn to secrecy.

  "Stunt? What stunt?" Bree's satellite dish picked up Beth's blooper.

  Alex stepped in front of Beth, who was wringing her hands and going, "Stunt? Who said stunt? Did I say stunt?"

  "Thanks a bunch, Beth." Alex put on a disgusted face. "Now everyone knows what Cam's wearing for Halloween."

  Bree's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Never," she said finally. "Like Cam would really come to her own birthday party in an apron! So not."

  "Alex was going to be my patient," Cam insisted, working hard at keeping a straight face. "Weren't you, Als?"

  Alex took a CVS bag out of her locker and began pulling out endless rolls of gauze bandage. "Well, I guess that blows that idea," she said. "We'll have to come up with something better."

  It was Wednesday. Emily's book club night. Dave's chance to catch up on office work at home. Dylan was scheduled to meet his posse at the local skate park after school. And Cam and Alex were supposed to be having dinner at Beth's.

  So it was all set. Mrs. Fish would pick them up at school and drop them at Mount Bay Medical, where, Beth had explained to her mother, they'd be participating in a Halloween party for patients.

  "But what are you going as?" Beth's mom asked her daughter as the trio scrambled into the backseat of the Fish family SUV—Cam in her hospital volunteer apron, Alex with her head and arm bandaged like a mummy, and Beth in the same DKNY outfit, Kate Spade bag, and Skechers sports clogs she'd worn to school.

  "A rich kid," Alex mumbled through her bandage muffled mouth.

  "Oh, you mean like Cade?" Beth shot back.

  Cam elbowed Beth. "Cut it. You know she's not speaking to him."

  "I know that, but not why." Beth sounded offended. "Or why I'm supposed to let you guys know if I spot him at the hospital."

  They'd told Beth how crucial she was to their mission. And for Cam, she was.

  "What if this is a trap?" Cam had asked Alex two nights ago. "What if Thantos's messenger just wants to get us alone, like at a hospital where we don't really know anyone?"

  "We'll deal with it," Alex promised. "All we need is a scout, a lookout—"

  "Who'll be looking out for what?"

  "You know. Possible, uh... messengers," Alex had said uncertainly.

  After an hour of squabbling, they'd settled on three suspects: Cade (Cam's vote); Mr. Shnorer (Alex's candidate); and Madison (who'd won two thumbs-up).

  As for their lookout, Dylan was in enough trouble, they decided. He couldn't afford to get mixed up in another risky scheme.

  So it was—unanimously—Beth.

  Who, right now, in the back of the SUV, was all bent out of shape because they had asked her to help them though they didn't explain why.

  "After all, Camryn," she was complaining, "I'm just your humble servant, no longer your trusted confidante." Leaning forward, she told her mother, "I'm going as their humble servant, Mom. My costume's at the hospital."

  "Confidante? After that blabbermouth move you pulled?" Alex snapped.

  "How any times do I have to apologize?" Beth asked. "It was a mistake, okay? My bad. Let it go."

  "Bethie, you are my confidante and best bud in the world," Cam assured her. "And I'm really grateful for your help."

  "Me, too," Alex said. "The grateful part, anyway. I just don't feel like talking about Cade right now. He... he's not who I thought he was."

  "I hope he's not who I think he is," Cam put in. "Beth, have you seen Madison at all this week? I have English with her and she never showed up—"

  "No, but I forgot to tell you. She sent me an e-mail message. She's sick or something—"

  "What's so weird about that?" Cam asked.

  "I never gave her my e-mail address. Anyway, she said she's totally psyched about your party and she wanted to know what everyone was going to wear. Who was going as what. She said she'd be there no matter how sick she was."

  "Speaking of missing English," Alex said, "Shnorer skipped out today, too. Amanda said she saw him going into Mrs. Hammond's office this morning, looking grossly bummed. And we had a sub for class—"

  Beth's mother pulled into the circular drive in front of the hospital and dropped the girls off. "Call about fifteen minutes before you're ready to come home, all right? Kiss, kiss, Elisabeth. Have fun, girls."

  They waited and waved until the car was out of sight. Then Cam took a deep breath and said, "Okay, Alex and I will hit the emergency room and try to snag a wheelchair. Beth, you find out exactly where the boy is. Which floor. His name's New-yon—" She pronounced it as the telephone receptionist had. "But the nurse said they call him Nelson... Nelson Tung."

  The emergency room entrance was at the back of the hospital. While Beth hurried inside the front door to the patient information desk, Alex, leaning on Cam's arm as planned, hobbled around the side of the building.

  "Have I got everything?" Cam nervously patted the bulging pockets of Amanda's apron. "The herbs. Your crystal. The incantation we made up. Do I have that or do you? Never mind, I know the words. I think. Let's see, I brought a couple of aroma candles, just in case. You know, one for stress, the other for wisdom. I hope I brought the wisdom candle. It's the same color as the romance one. Oh, and the violets—"

  "I hope you brought a paper bag to breathe into," Alex murmured. " 'Cause you are having a first-class meltdown. Hyperventilating up a storm. It's going to look pretty funny, with these bandages and all, if I wind up having to wheel you in."

  They came to a loading dock at which two ambulances were parked. On the platform, a wheelchair stood at the ready. Cam scrambled up
the steps to get it, while Alex waited below, crouching behind one of the emergency vehicles.

  "Hey!" A driver barreled out of the other ambulance, flicking away a smoldering cigarette with two fingers. He had a spare stashed behind his ear. "That's hospital property. Hands off, honey." Smoke snaked from his lips as he shouted at Cam.

  Alex hollered back, "And that poster says, 'No Smoking. Oxygen in Use,'" she advised him, pointing to the large sign on the loading dock.

  The startled driver stared at her. "What is this, Night of the Living Dead?" he snarled. "Halloween's a couple of days away, girlie."

  "Not for you, it isn't," Cam said suddenly, her eyes riveted on the cigarette behind his ear.

  "I said, leave that chair alone. Do I have to call security? You're playing with fire here, honey."

  "He guessed." Alex laughed.

  "Don't get smart with me."

  "She can't help it," Cam told him, her burning eyes beginning to tear. "She's my twin."

  "Don't make excuses, Cami. This guy's IQ is below room temperature."

  "That does it, " EMS man growled.

  "Hi, I'm Alex. I'll be your server today," Alex said as Cam's glare connected and a curl of smoke drifted from the driver's spare cigarette. "How would you like your ear? Well done, medium, or rare?"

  Beth was waiting at the elevator bank. "Fifth floor, room five eleven," she told them. "I still don't get it, though. You had some premonition about this little boy, this Nelson whatever—that he needed your help?"

  "How do we look?" Alex switched the subject.

  "Like a hospital volunteer helping a deranged mummy."

  "Forget it," Alex said. "We'll met you back down here."

  "Don't forget to speed-dial me if you see—Cam started.

  "I know, I know." Beth broke in, resigned. "Madison, Shnorer, or Cade."

  Chapter 18 – Three Suspects

  He was already there.

  They didn't notice him right away. The first thing they saw when Cam wheeled Alex into room five eleven were enough flowers and potted plants to fill a garden.

  A short, stout woman, the circles under her eyes almost the same color as her graying black hair, sat in the midst of this bright jungle. She sat alongside a hospital bed, holding the limp hand of a little boy and talking to him in a language Cam and Alex didn't understand.

  Tubes and wires flowed from the child's arms, chest, and bandaged head to monitoring machines behind him; machines partially hidden by a vase of bright orange birds-of-paradise set among huge tropical ferns.

  "Are you Mrs. Tung?" Cam asked gently.

  That was when Alex realized he was in the room.

  Cade.

  He was standing behind a ficus tree, its pot wrapped in tinsel paper and decorated with a big red ribbon. He was leaning against the window, his head pressed against the glass.

  When he heard Cam's voice, Cade turned. Alex dropped her head, pretending to be dozing, hoping he wouldn't guess who she was, that no blue hair was sticking out of her bandages.

  "Alex?" he said at once. But he was looking at Cam.

  Cam jumped. "What are you doing here?"

  "You first," he said. "You're not her. You're her sister, right? The twin."

  "Camryn," Cam confessed. "I... I work here." She smoothed down her pink apron as if offering proof.

  "What are you, some kind of volunteer?"

  The child's mother was looking back and forth, from Cam to Cade, trying to keep up with the conversation. It was clear she knew very little English.

  "I'm a candy striper," Cam said smoothly. "I'm taking this patient to her room." She glanced at Alex, whose bandaged head was collapsed onto her chest. "I must've gotten the room numbers mixed up."

  "No big," Cade said. Then, turning to Mrs. Tung, he spoke very slowly and gestured with his hands. "I'm going to see the doctor, okay? Find out how Nguyen is doing. This girl—from school. She's a friend." He nodded at Cam and walked out, without so much as a glance at Alex.

  "It's not him. He's not the messenger," Alex said the minute he was gone.

  Cam hesitated. She'd gotten nothing but honest vibes off the boy. Still, what was he doing here?

  Guilt, Alex answered. It was his sister's car. For all we know, his sister was driving it.

  "What if he was?" Cam whispered. "What if Cade was the driver?"

  "He doesn't have his license," Alex said lamely. She didn't want to think about it. One look at him had set her back days. She could feel her anger and distrust melting away, her heart growing tender, warm. But Cam was right. What was he doing here?

  Cam smiled and nodded at Mrs. Tung. "What's our plan B?" she said softly to Alex. "I didn't think about his mom, or anybody else, being in the room. We'd better take off, I guess."

  "Stay, stay!" a raspy voice invited them. "I'll just be a moment. I'm going to talk with Mrs. Tung."

  "Doc! I mean, Karsh!" Cam's arm felt all tingly from where his starched lab coat had brushed against her.

  "Right you are," he answered. "And what are you supposed to be?" he asked Alex, with a very un-Doc-like touch of sarcasm. "Let's hope no one scrapes a knee in this town, there's probably not a shred of bandage left."

  Turning his back on her, he addressed the boy's mother. "Madame Tung," he called her, and bowed. And began speaking in an Asian dialect, which the grateful woman quickly responded to. The next thing they knew, Doc had led her out of the room.

  Alex jumped out of her wheelchair and peeled off the bandages. Cam had closed the door and begun emptying her pockets, spreading out at the foot of the bed the little pot of crushed herbs, the bouquet of violets, Alex's pink crystal, the paper on which they'd written their spell—and two aroma candles, one of which was labeled ROMANCE.

  How doable is this? Alex wondered, looking for the first time at the little boy in the bed. He was very pale. She could see his blue veins under his sallow skin. His lips were dry, parched, swollen. For a moment, she closed her eyes. Oh, please, please help us, she thought.

  Help us to help you, Cam added, staring at the child's yellowing bruises.

  Guide us—

  "Okay, let's do it, shall we?" Doc was back in the room, rubbing his hands together. His fingers—was Alex imagining it?—seemed just a smidge thicker than Doc's normally bone-thin joints. "That wasn't the spell, was it," he said, sighing. "I've heard better from no-talent novices."

  They'd just been warming up, Cam told Karsh defensively. Alex picked up the crystal, which began to heat at once. Cam held the violets, which she'd intended to wave under the boy's nostrils—but now, seeing that he had a breathing tube in his nose, she wasn't certain what she'd do with the little flowers. Cam and Alex held each other's hands and stared uncertainly at the incantation they'd written out.

  Karsh broke in, instructing them to hold the boy's hands, as well. "The healing energy will come from you. Flow through you. I'll take care of the accessories." He held out his hands—which looked far more delicate than Alex remembered—and they deposited their magick preparations in them.

  "See him truly," Karsh instructed. "Listen to the blood pulsing through him. Feel his body's needs. Read his mind's will. Offer him your strength in exchange for his weakness."

  But they were already doing that. The moment they laid hands on the boy, sights and sounds assailed them. The jagged break that ran along his skull. The slosh of bruised marrow in two shattered ribs. Sizzling red germs massing like an army of fire ants in his crushed ankle.

  The battered boy couldn't speak with his mouth, but his entire self was whispering to them. And his brain, inside the broken skull, his brain was whole and healthy and desperate.

  "Not bad." Karsh laughed. "I'd leave out that big-headed 'my' before 'moon magick' and 'curing sun.'" He was reading over their incantation. "Otherwise, you've written quite a nice little spell. Go on, then, recite it."

  Alex began: "Universe of love and health..."

  "I think I need the herbs now." Cam held out a hand for them and Karsh
, grinning proudly, poured the green flakes into her palm. "Use these gifts of nature's wealth, to heal this child who wronged no one," Cam said, sprinkling the fragrant powder over the sheet covering Nguyen.

  "With my moon..." Alex began.