“The what?” his voice breaks and the words come out as a high-pitched croak.
“The talisman. We know about the hex you cast.” Marlene blurts it out and now we all seem crazy.
“Hex? What? You know that game I play is fake right? Magic isn’t real! Are you all nuts?” Matty’s about to completely freak out.
“We know someone cast a spell on your brother’s ex-girlfriend, and we know all about your black candles and your magic books,” I say, trying to make our case against Matty sound a little less crazy.
“My books? From the game store? Those are all for card games, or Dungeons and Dragons. They’re leather-bound deluxe editions, not real magic. You’re all crazy.”
“Then what do you do with the candles? We know black candles are needed for the hex you cast,” I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud to a stranger. He could have me committed.
“Those are scented candles. I use them to hide the smell,” his voice gets quieter as he talks, as if he’s trying to keep a secret.
“What smell?” I ask, also quietly.
“After my brother bullies me I go into my room and relax. I smoke…” he leans in and whispers. “Marijuana.”
We all look at each other, a little surprised that none of us considered that option. “So the candles…” I start.
“My dad smokes. The whole house smells like cigarettes. So I use tobacco-scented candles in my room to hide the smell of the pot. My parents would kill me if they found out.”
Ryan speaks, keeping things quiet. “So, you don’t… believe in magic or hexes?”
“No. I just play games with some of my friends. What’s wrong with you?”
I can see Tamara’s about to say something, and knowing her, it’ll make this situation worse. I cut in and keep things calm. “OK Matt. You have explained our worries away. We were concerned for someone’s safety but we were wrong to accuse you of anything. We’re all sorry.”
“Ok?” he says, eyebrows lifting.
“And you won’t tell anyone about how we’re all crazy people who believe in magic,” I say, “just like we won’t tell anyone about your little habit.”
He exhales hard, relieved that we’re not out to get him. “Sounds good to me.” He turns to head back to the caf’, but then turn back to face us. “Do you really think someone cast a spell on Dina?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
“That sucks. Whenever she was around she was always OK to me. Plus she kept Mason occupied. If you’re serious, you should look at the people on the student council. For the whole semester all she ever did was complain that they were making fun of her ideas. Kept promising to win president so she could be in charge and put people in their place. I know the council act nice at assemblies and stuff, but it sounds like they all hate each other.”
“Thanks, man,” says Ryan, whose reassuring manner seems to end this awkward exchange on a high note, and Matty heads back to his card game.
A moment later the bell rings. We have to head to our fifth period classes for attendance, and then it’s straight to the gym for the debates. I hope that Dina has a terrible showing. If it looks like she could actually win this thing, the hex could get really nasty.
After a quick detour to class, we meet up back at the gym. Marlene got pulled away to sit with some kids from her Anime club, but I’m able to sit with Tam and Ryan as the assembly starts. There are four chairs on the stage, and a microphone stand. Gradually, the four candidates take their seats, and the student council’s teacher liaison, Mr. Stendahl, takes the microphone. He introduces the candidates for council president and tells us that each candidate will speak twice. First, they will each have two minutes to explain why they are running and why we should vote for them. Once they have all spoken, they will then each have another two minute speech to rebut anything that was said in the first round.
First up is Janelle Haas, my age, who has been on council since the first term last year. Janelle explains that she has already been both secretary and treasurer of the council, and based on that experience, she is the most suited to the job of president. She gets some polite applause, and is probably the best candidate, but this is mostly a popularity contest and she’s too young to win it. Janelle has spent a year and a half toiling away on various committees and fundraisers, doing a lot for the school. But that means she doesn’t have a lot of friends. And in a high school election, you really need friends.
Reigning president Wayne Shepherd is up second. Wayne brags that under his leadership, attendance at school events is up, meaning that Wayne has increased school pride. I think that more than anything, Wayne has spent more money on making posters for every event. If that means increasing school pride, his girlfriend Sydney with her Photoshop skills should be the one taking the credit.
I watch closely to see if the crowd’s reactions to Wayne have any effect on Dina’s yellow aura. I’m far from an expert, but if Wayne’s emotions are powering the hex, then the more confident he is of victory, the weaker the hex should be. But there’s no sign of change. The hex has been roughly the same for almost a week now. Whoever hexed Dina can sure hold a grudge.
Al Kwan is up next. Al’s a big, thick guy. Defensive lineman. When he takes to the mic, several deep-voiced football players shout ‘Kwaaaan!’. As the disruption dies down, Al makes his speech. He’s surprisingly soft-spoken, and promises that if he is president he will find a way to fund an off-campus prom, in a proper ballroom. The seniors will love that, but it means that the other three grades will see funding taken away from our events. I doubt he’ll win on that platform.
Dina was randomly chosen to speak last. I recall Sydney’s prediction that Dina would use her advantage—wink, wink—when she was on stage in front of the boys. Dina has opted to wear a skin-tight cardigan sweater, mostly unbuttoned, over a low-cut tanktop. Half the boys in the school will vote for her just for the cleavage. At least nobody whistled at her.
She steps up the lectern, and her yellow curse immediately swallows up the microphone. When she talks, nobody can hear. The mic has suddenly discovered ‘technical difficulties.’ Nobody else can see the yellow light that turned the mic off, the same way it turns off lights when Dina’s around. After a communications technology student swaps out the microphones, Dina begins to speak. Her speech promises little and makes no real case that Dina’s the best candidate. Instead, she opts for inspirational platitudes and promises of a great semester in the spring term. I think it sounds like she’s not promising anything worthwhile, but the students are loving it. Every time Dina says something to pump up the crowd, she pauses to let them cheer. And cheer they do. And with every cheer, she comes closer to winning the election. And with every cheer the yellow aura gets brighter, undulates faster. She’s gaining ground, and it’s pissing her hexer off. One thing I can guarantee, whether our bad guy is Wayne or someone else, they are definitely in the room right now. I just wish my second sight would let me see them too.
One of those tentacles of light grabs Dina’s new microphone and this mic dies too. Dina’s visibly frustrated, and I’m too far away to hear it, but she’s clearly bitching at the poor comm-tech kid. She leans over the edge of the stage to pass him the microphone, when I see the tentacles line up behind her. All three arms of light press against the floor behind Dina, and it takes me a moment to realize why.
The hex is bracing itself against the floor. Getting a good footing from which to shove her off the stage. She’s off-balance, she’s in those absurdly tall heels again, and now that hex is about to throw her over. I stand up, drawing a lot of attention to myself. “She’s going to fall!” I shout to Mr. Stendahl on the stage, but he’s too far away to really hear me. Just then, the tentacles snap straight, and the aura becomes a wall behind Dina, shoving her toward the edge of the stage. And now a fourth tentacle appears, a brand-new one formed out of her hexer’s growing rage. She reaches for the new microphone, the fourth tentacle grabs her foot, and sure enough her foot slips, and she drops over the side
of the stage. It’s five feet down to the hard floor, and she lands on her right shoulder. Even in the back, I hear the bones break.
Everyone is looking to Dina, or rushing to help her. I keep my eyes on the stage, looking at Wayne Shepherd. He looks scared, standing on the stage looking down at Dina, his face pale, his posture suggesting that he’s genuinely scared for her. The hex is powered by anger, but I see no sign of anger on Wayne. He seems to be really upset that a fellow council member is hurt.
When the paramedics wheel Dina out on a stretcher, the aura is still bright yellow, and there are still four arms flowing from it. Dina’s hex hasn’t weakened at all. In fact, I’d say that someone is even madder at her now than they were before she fell.
But if the hexer is still angry, and Wayne’s showing no sign of anger, what does that mean for my prime suspect?
No time for doubts now. This thing very nearly killed Dina today. I have to find out why Wayne had those feathers in his backpack. Even if his face says he’s not the one powering the magic, I have to be sure. Because I get the distinct impression that the next time, that hex will kill her.
11
Friday, November 16
Word around school is that Dina broke her wrist, dislocated her shoulder, and cracked her clavicle. She’s still in the hospital but should be back to school next week before the election. Considering her accident happened in front of the entire student population, I think the sympathy vote is going to give her the win. And if that happens, I think she’s going to die.
I’m at my locker between second and third period, when I see Wayne Shepherd walk by on his way to class. Tam’s also at her locker next to mine, and I nudge her and nod toward Wayne. As soon as she sees him, she marches out into hallway traffic to get in his face.
I can’t hear what she says, since it’s very quiet, but from her face I can tell she’s completely pissed, and probably saying something very harsh. Wayne looks baffled, but sheepishly comes over to where I’m standing at our lockers.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. “You think someone pushed Dina? I was on stage, she just fell.”
“Give it up, we know all about your feathers,” she says.
“What?”
Tam looks to me, as if I can offer an explanation. “All I want to know is why you brought a bag of black feathers to school. I’m not blaming anyone for anything.”
“What?” he repeats. “I don’t get you.”
“The feathers, Wayne,” Tam says. “Just explain yourself.”
He stutters for a moment and then decides to say nothing. Tam raises her voice to a very loud volume. “What do you mean you’re planning to rig the ballot count? You can’t cheat the election!” a good number of students look her way, see Wayne, and take note. Wayne looks angry, his face reddens.
“Tell me about the feathers, or I swear I’ll start screaming that you just asked me to go behind my boyfriend’s back and date you on the side.” Still, Wayne says nothing. Tam grins. “How dare you—”
“They aren’t mine,” he says. “That bag with the feathers wasn’t mine. See?” He turns and shows us the pack on his back. It’s blue and red, not the black bag we found the feathers in.
“Your books were in it,” I say.
“My bag was full of art supplies. I put my books…” he doesn’t finish the thought, cutting himself off. “Screw this, I don’t answer to you.” He walks away.
“And you’ll never get a piece of this!” she shouts at his back. Now it’s my turn to blush and wish I wasn’t standing near her. When she’s had enough of tormenting Wayne, Tam turns back to me.
“It’s his girlfriend’s bag.” She says.
“I figured,” I say. “And her feathers. That’s why he can’t explain them.”
“But how do we prove it?” she asks. “It’s not like we can go to the cops and tell them Sydney’s casting hexes on her boyfriend’s political rivals.”
“I have a plan,” I say, just as the plan is forming in my head. “I need you to do something for me. Don’t worry, it’s something you’re good at.”
“Sure, what?” she asks, enjoying herself.
“I need you to piss Sydney off.”
Tam closes her locker door with a metallic bang and flashes her trademark cheesy wink. “With pleasure.”
I’m skipping school for the first time in my life. I keep expecting someone to recognize me on the street, to tell me to get back to school or call my dad. Instead, I’m free to walk down Main Street, which is actually pretty busy in the middle of the day. Who’d have guessed that?
I stop in at Burton’s Fast Gas for a phone card, then dial the numbers on the card into my cell. It’s a bit of a detour, but that’s OK. Sydney won’t be getting of school for hours yet, so I have time. Once I have a working phone I start walking again. I’ve got to get all the way to the end of Main Street, by the highway off-ramp. I have to go to the hospital.
By the time I make to the hospital, it’s past noon. Both Tam and Sydney will be on lunch now, and it’s time to put my theory to the test. I manage to track down Dina’s room after asking a nurse. There’s a little window in the door, and I peek in to make sure there are no doctors or parents in there. Thank goodness Dina’s in a single room. If she had a roommate, this conversation could get me locked in the nut house.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step in. Dina’s lying in bed, propped up on pillows, her arm is in a pink cast, and the cast is held in place by a metal support standing next to the bed so she doesn’t move the shoulder. The yellow monster that is living on her still has four tentacles. It’s very bright, and moving constantly. It’s still angry.
“Who are—” she begins to ask, but then recognizes me and changes her tune: “oh it’s you. What do you want?”
“You remember the last time we talked?” I ask, trying to keep my voice down. My heart is beating fast, my mouth is dry. I can’t believe I’m scared to talk to this girl. This is what I bet it feels like when a doctor tells someone they have cancer.
Dina’s pale. Her eyes are red from crying. She looks like she hasn’t slept since she fell. When she speaks next, her voice breaks a little and a tear falls down her cheek.
“Why is this happening to me?”
I step a little closer, beside the bed. “You remember what I told you? About the things I can see?”
She nods a little, but it obviously hurts to move her neck.
“I wasn’t making it up. I can see things. I can see hexes. Curses. Whatever you want to call it. And someone cursed you with bad luck. It started small, with lights going off, tripping over things. But over time, it’s getting brighter. It’s getting more aggressive.”
“The power outlet,” she says, sniffing back a runny nose.
“And the stage,” I say.
“You stood up,” she says. “You knew I would fall.”
“I tried to warn you. I’m sorry.” I stand there awkwardly, not sure what to say. I wish I had a glass of water for my suddenly desert-dry mouth. Then there’s the feeling of something cold on my fingers. Looking down, I see that Dina is using her good hand to reach out to me. She’s grabbing my hand. I curl my fingers around hers, which are freezing cold. And then I realize that my hand is inside the aura. I’m reaching into the yellow. I stare in wonder as the yellow light creeps from her hand to mine, encompassing my entire hand up to the wrist, and then the light on my hand fades. The yellow glow on Dina’s hand recedes away, sliding back to almost her elbow. The hex is retreating from me, like a wild animal flinching away from fire.
“What is it?” she asks, looking at our hands.
“I never touched one before,” I say. “An aura. A hex. It doesn’t like me.”
She smiles a bit. “Good. Maybe you can get rid of it.”
“So you believe me?” I ask.
“I’m so sorry for the things I said to you. I was so wrong. Ever since you talked to me I’ve noticed things. Fuses pop, light bulbs bu
rn out. I keep losing things all the time. And after the last time I was in the hospital I started to really take it seriously. Now I know you’re right.” She looks at her broken wrist. “I know I’m cursed.”
“I think I know how to stop it, but it’s risky. And I might be completely wrong.”
She thinks for a second and looks me in the eyes. “Anything’s better than letting it get worse. Next time I could lose my arm, or cave in my face or God knows what.”
“Is there any reason why Sydney Palato might have reason to cast a hex on you?”
“Sydney?”
“We know she had some of the ingredients that make the spell,” I say. Dina looks like she’s thinking hard, and then she nods, as if accepting that she has to be honest.
“I hit on Wayne,” she says bluntly. “Asked him to dump her for me. He must have told her about it.”
“So you were going to take her boyfriend, and now you’re going to take his seat in council,” I say.
“I guess. I’m such an idiot.”
“Now this is the part where I need you to trust me,” I say, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. “I’m going to see if Sydney’s emotions have any effect on the hex.”
“How do you do that?”
“I’m gonna send my friend to piss her off and I’m going to stand back and watch what happens. If the hex is powered by Sydney’s anger, it’ll react when she gets all riled up. Then we’ll know it’s her.”
“So what happens to me?” she asks. “Am I like bait?”
“Not really. As long as you’re just lying in bed I don’t think it can hurt you. But I won’t do it if you’re afraid. I don’t want you to worry.”
“Do it. Tell your friend to make fun of her big chin. That always used to piss her off in grade four.”
I shake my head at Dina, and dial my phone.
“What’s up?” Tam asks.
“I’m here. Go after Sydney now. Really get her angry. I’ll let you know if the hex reacts. Dina says she hit on Wayne, that’s why Sydney hexed her. Use that. And… if it helps, make fun of her chin.” Tam agrees, sounding very excited to let out some verbal bile, and hangs up.
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