by Unknown
The farther in they went, the landscape changed. The dead and decaying trees thinned, replaced with luscious green ones. A warm mist covered Meghan and she shed her sweater.
“Where are you taking me, Nona?” The cat meowed and trotted along, seeming to know where she was heading. After awhile, they stopped at a narrow pathway. Voices! Meghan scanned the area. At the bottom of the path was a gully, lined with tiny huts built out of mud.
“I can’t believe anyone lives in those,” she said, stepping into a flyaway spider web. She wrestled the web off her, and then ducked as she saw something move between two of the huts.
Two ghosts floated around the perimeter of the mud compound, keeping watch.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Nona,” she said. “Nona?” She was nowhere to be seen.
“Great, not even my loyal Catawitch stayed with me.”
She peered into the huts, hoping to understand why Nona had led her to this place. She inched her way closer, crawling along the ground. She spotted a fallen tree about ten feet ahead of her.
“Maybe I can hide in there,” she whispered, crawling along the ground. She saw the perfect spot, a hollow big enough for her to… Meghan froze. Her gaze followed a shoe, attached to a leg, which crawled backwards out of the very hollow she was heading for. The smallest noise would alert this person to her presence. Meghan desperately searched for another place to hide.
A second leg backed out of the tree. Her eyes widened and nostrils flared as she realized it was too late. She was on her hands and knees, facing the backside of her unknown companion.
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A hand reached back to pull itself away from the tree, but instead, landed on Meghan’s face.
The color drained from the hand as it gripped her skin. Meghan didn’t budge. What if this was the person responsible for hurting Colin?
A face turned toward her. In unison, and too loudly, both parties cried out, “Meghan!” “Ivan!” The watchman ghosts belted over the huts looking for the perpetrators of the noise. Ivan dragged Meghan into the tree hollow; it was a tight fit, which neither of them were pleased about. After a minute the ghosts were satisfied that they had heard nothing and went back to their normal rounds.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, in a loud whisper.
“I should ask you the same thing. Why was your brother attacked?” She refused to answer, not sure whether to trust him or not. “I’ve been tracking Colin’s attacker,” he acknowledged, seeing her determination not to speak.
“What! Why?”
“The Balaton are looking for an insider. I think it was an outside job. Any reason you can think of as to why that might be, Ms. Jacoby?” he asked curtly.
And to think, I was beginning to believe he might be human, she thought. A stern faced Ivan waited for her reply.
“I have no clue who attacked my brother,” she stated. “Nona led me here.” His eyes widened.
“That’s a good sign, then,” he replied, turning back to the ghosts.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on here?” she asked him.
“Best guess is that they’re guarding something.” Meghan’s first thoughts led to Colin’s book.
Could it be in the mud huts? Meghan was about to speak, when Ivan cupped her mouth and put fingers to his own. “Shh.” The ghosts were coming around again.
Meghan still wasn’t sure if she could trust Ivan or not, but she was glad at least, not to be alone. She waited until the ghosts had rounded the next corner, and then decided to be bold; she would have to, if she was going to talk Ivan into invading the huts with her.
“It was over a book,” she admitted.
“All this for a book? Are you sure?”
“Positive. It’s not a monetary thing, well, it could be I guess. It’s what’s in the book that matters.”
“We should get closer,” he decided.
“Any ideas on how to do that?” she asked, glad he had not instantly abandoned her.
“I’ve been spying for hours, and those two ghosts doing rounds take a good couple of minutes on the other side. Do you see that small alley there?” he pointed in between two of the huts. “I can’t quite tell, but I think there’s a cart or something we might be able to hide in.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
He nodded, shushing her again as the ghosts came back around. They waited, ready to spring for the alley as soon as the ghosts were out of sight. Meghan went first, dashing through the other side of the tree, followed by Ivan. They reached the alley. It was a cart, but it was filled with skunky smelling rags.
“I can’t get in that,” she complained.
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Ivan pushed her in, landing beside her.
“Breathe already,” he chided. “It’s bad, but I’ve smelled worse,” he added, pulling a stinky rag over them, for cover.
“You’re getting quite the kick out of this, aren’t you?” she pouted.
His dry arrogant smile answered her question.
“I’m going to need a major bath after this,” she moaned.
“I can’t argue with that,” said Ivan.
She shot him a scowl.
They cautiously peeked into the compound. Two ghosts played poker.
“You’re cheating,” accused a scrawny ghost.
“I ain’t been cheatin'! You take it back!” demanded a short, chubbier ghost.
“I won’t,” the scrawny one goaded. The chubby one responded by throwing his cards at the scrawny one. A familiar ghost appeared, scolding the players.
“Will the two of you idiots shut the hell up! We got a big operation going on here. Go do your rounds.”
“Duppy!” Meghan asserted coldly. She then added, “He confronted Colin and me,” realizing Ivan wouldn’t understand.
“The secrets keep piling up, don’t they?”
“I’ll explain later,” she huffed.
Footsteps approached.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
“Yes, not a ghost, either,” answered Ivan. “It’s coming our way,” he warned. They held their breath as the footsteps passed by their rank hiding spot. Meghan took a daring glance over the edge. Whoever it was, they were dressed in a deep red, hooded cloak. Duppy floated haughtily to meet the hooded figure.
“At last,” he said in a growling voice. “Bout time, too, my employer grows impatient.” The hooded figure silently took a package from within its robes and laid it on the table. Meghan’s gut told her it was the Magicante. Duppy hovered over the package, rubbing his hands together greedily. “My employer will be pleased,” he sneered, pointing to an envelope on the table.
“Payment in full.”
The hooded figure grasped the envelope emptying the contents; it was a roll of paper.
“Huh, its not money,” muttered Meghan, wondering what was so important about those papers that it was worth hurting her brother for.
Meghan and Ivan ducked back into their stinky rag hideout, until the footsteps of the living person were out of range.
“Don’t know about you,” said Ivan, “but I’ve had enough of stinky rags.” He bounded bravely out of the bin, landing with a soft thud.
“Don’t need to say that twice,” she said, following him, although not quite so gracefully. Her confidence was high though, knowing that ghosts couldn’t harm her.
“Guard the package,” ordered Duppy, the instant he saw the duo.
“How?” the two poker playing ghosts asked. “We’re ghosts, we can’t touch it.”
“You idiots, maybe they weren’t aware of that. Besides, I wasn’t talking to you.” 117
Another, very much alive, hooded figure exited one of the huts. All Meghan could see was the figure’s eyes; a fierce shade of blue.
“Okay, wasn’t prepared for that,” said Ivan. “Hope you’re ready for battle!”
“Battle! You do realize I suck at magic, right?”
Ivan rolled his eyes at her.
“It’s pro
bably not a good idea to let your opponent know that,” he muttered.
“Oops!” she frowned.
“Meghan,” he said in all seriousness. “I haven’t seen what this guy can do, but if I can’t take him you’ll be on your own.”
Meghan knew he was right.
“Just tell me what to do, Ivan.”
“Concentrate. Allow the energy to fill you, and then let it out. Preferably on the other guy, not me if you don’t mind.”
“This is not a good time for insults, Ivan,” she scolded.
“I wasn’t. You knock me out by accident, and you’re left…”
“Alone, I get it!” she said heatedly. “I’m not completely stupid, Ivan!” He shrugged, leaving her side. The hooded figure, who wasn’t much taller than Meghan, observed their every move, while guarding the package. Ivan worked his way around the mud huts.
“No other people,” he mouthed to Meghan. Ivan began his interrogation. “What do you want with that package?” There was no answer. Meghan crept around the opposite side of the huts, happening across a ghost locked in a cell.
“Timothy! What are you doing here?”
“I knew one of you would find me,” he boasted happily.
“Sit tight. I’ll get you out, okay. How are they holding you, Timothy? You’re a ghost.”
“Magic, I guess. I’ve been stuck here two weeks.” Meghan kept her eye on the hooded figure and Ivan, while she tried to free Timothy. The hooded figure stepped closer to the room where Timothy was imprisoned. Meghan did not think it was possible, but Timothy, already dead, turned paler than he already was. He backed into the farthest corner possible.
“Watch out, not nice,” Timothy said, hiding his eyes.
“Sit tight, Timothy. I won’t leave you, okay.”
With swift movement, the hooded figure jumped onto the table, grasping the package. The ghosts swirled overhead and the figure motioned for them to attack. They dove from all directions. The ghosts might not be able to use magic on the living; however, being saturated with the cold feeling of death each time a ghost sliced through their bodies was definitely a distraction. After a minute, the ghosts ended their attack.
“I need to get that package,” Meghan said to herself, regaining her composure. The moment she had said it, the hooded figure glanced her direction, his shocking blue eyes squinting at her.
He towered over the book, ordering the ghosts to attack again. As soon as Ivan found a brief pause in the attack he threw his arm, palm out, at the hooded figure, who was not expecting the blow. It knocked him off his feet and he skidded across the ground. An arm fell out of the robe.
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Meghan jumped at the chance to get closer. As she reached out to grab the package, she saw the arm. It was a young arm. They were fighting a child!
The discovery did not stop the battle. The robed child fought back, shooting a heavy blow toward Ivan, who blocked it. Meghan grabbed the package and fled back to Timothy. From the corner of her eye she saw Ivan fly through the air, through a ghost, and land hard against a wall.
“Ivan,” she shouted, as he hit the ground. The robed child noticed that Meghan held the package and lunged at her. She panicked, unable to focus and collect the energy to produce any magic. Ivan picked up his head and with his last bit of strength, sent a blow toward the hooded child. It was only enough of a blow to give Meghan the smallest of head starts.
“Run,” yelled Timothy. “I can’t die again, get out of here.” She didn’t want to leave, but perhaps she could run and find her uncle, and he could rescue Timothy. She spotted the closest exit. The ghosts began diving for her. Then she saw Ivan lying on the ground. He was not moving.
“No. I’m not leaving,” she decided. She spun around and cried out, “STOP!” Taken off guard by the command, the ghosts froze and waited for orders. The hooded child halted ten feet in front of her, watching intently.
“Tell me who you are, and why you want this book,” she breathed heavily. There was still no answer. “I know you’re a child…” she taunted.
A young male voice, stern, strong and calm, finally spoke.
“Not that it matters, but I’m fourteen, hardly a child. You should concern yourself with the fact that I am stronger than you, and my master will have that book.” Just then, a familiar Catawitch jostled around the robed boy’s legs. Her instincts had been right. The visiting Catawitch in Cobbscott was evil.
“Hello Meghan,” she purred.
“This is your master? This boy?” asked Meghan. The robed child winced at the word boy.
“I told you he wanted to meet you. You should have listened when you had the chance.”
“Who is your master, then?” she demanded of the robed child. “What’s his business with my brother’s book?” The boy didn’t answer, and inside Meghan’s head the echo of a voice erupted.
“Oh, not now, Colin, it couldn’t be a worse time for you to contact me,” she whispered vehemently. The ghosts above were getting restless, Ivan was still completely limp and Timothy remained stuck in his prison. “I need help,” she uttered in desperation.
The scene around her slowed, freezing in place, including Meghan. Beams of light emanated out of Meghan’s thorn-covered locket, followed by the shadow of a woman sleeping on a feather. She awakened and arose, her body a beacon of light.
“Help is coming and you are ready for this, Meghan. You will know what to do!” The woman stroked Meghan’s frightened face. Her skin shimmered like gold.
The feather then claimed the woman’s figure and she again slept, her ghostly image regressing back into the locket.
The chaos came screaming back to life. Meghan took a deep breath as the ghosts began diving.
The hooded child menacingly strode toward her.
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“Ghost candy,” she remembered in a flash. “I can use it to do a spell against the ghosts and then the kid can’t touch me! At least for thirty seconds.” She reached into her skirt pocket; she had just three pieces left.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, popping a piece into her mouth. The change occurred in the nick of time. The hooded child threw a spell at her, which ripped straight through her ghostly body. His blue eyes appraised her, obviously impressed at the unexpected move.
The ghosts, also caught off guard by Meghan’s maneuver, paused momentarily, and then attacked furiously. Meghan felt their energy and held out her hand, determined. “Sphaera,” she bellowed. The energy pulled itself into a perfect sphere. This stopped the ghosts in their tracks.
She threw it at the closest one blasting it into a million ghostly pieces.
“I did it!” she screamed, hurrying to collect another, knowing her time was short.
“Attack her, bring her down,” ordered Duppy.
Meghan stayed on the defensive and after blowing up two more ghosts her body started to turn real again. She ate the second piece of candy and dispersed three more. The rest made a beeline for the woods, not wanting to be her next target.
She ate the final piece.
Only Duppy remained.
He faced her head on with a sphere of his own. She flew into the air and dove behind him, his sphere missing her.
“Hey Duppy,” she called out. He floated his hideous ghostly body around and covered his face with his hands as the sphere hit him head on.
Meghan changed back and fell to the ground, landing about twenty feet away from the hooded child and his Catawitch. She picked herself up and almost instantly, fell over. “I’ve drained myself,” she assumed, leaning her body against the edge of the mud hut, trying to maintain her balance. There was no where to run. The hooded boy lifted his hand to throw a spell.
“This is it,” she cried. “I tried so hard, and still I failed.” In the split second that followed, Meghan’s loyal Catawitch, Nona, came bounding in. She was small, but vicious and charged the larger, wicked Catawitch.
Above the hut fluttered a bird, the very one Meghan had locked in a cage earlie
r that morning.
It shimmered, while diving at full speed. Beams of light began pouring from the bird’s body, and then, the most unexpected thing she could have imagined happened!
As the bird descended, its shape began shifting. The wings disappeared and arms formed.
Where there had been claws now were human feet. Tattered clothes replaced the feathers.
A thunderous voice reverberated through the huts as the bird-human shouted a spell, and then landed with a skidding thud. The spell hit the unsuspecting hooded boy, knocking him to the ground.
Without a second thought, the boy got to his feet.
“Elisha!” he called out to his Catawitch. “Let’s go!”
“The book!” she reminded.
“Not today!” he shouted.
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His Catawitch vaulted into a nearby fire pit. The boy dashed to her side, grasping her back, and they vanished, dissolving into the fire.
Meghan closed her eyes, not believing she was still alive. Nona, uninjured, bounded to her side.
“How did you know, Nona?” she asked, wishing her Catawitch could speak. Somehow, Nona had known the bird was more than just a bird.
Meghan heard the flapping of wings. The bird-human had already shifted back to into its bird form again. It sat atop one of the huts.
“Who are you?” she pleaded.
It ruffled up its feathers in reply.
“I wish you would tell me, so I could thank you properly. I guess, if you ever need anything, you know where my window is.”
The bird winked mischievously at her, then flew away.
Meghan’s thoughts turned to Ivan. She tapped him gently on the face trying to wake him. He did not respond. She knelt closer and discovered that he was not breathing. Meghan’s head was spinning. Moments ago her own death had seemed imminent, only to be saved by a miraculous bird-human. Now Ivan, who had risked his own life to save hers, lay dead.
The Magicante sat next to her on the ground.
Nona pawed at the book.
Do I dare open it?
What can this book possibly do to help me?
Ivan is dead!
She pulled it out of the package and flipped it open.
