That seemed to rattle him some.
He sighed. “I knew Serenity’s family before we came to Broken Wand, and they were into some pretty dark stuff. All of a sudden, she was interested in Lucas at the start of this year, when all last year she wouldn’t even look at him. And then he turns up dead not too long after. Could be a coincidence, but I don’t know.”
“You think she might’ve killed him?” I glanced back over toward Serenity. I knew she was ruthless, but was she a murderer?
“I don’t know.” Braden glared at Serenity. “But if she did, I’m going to find out. And I’m going to make her pay.”
“Wait a minute.” Realization dawned on me. “I thought you said Lucas probably killed himself? Why would you tell me that, when you obviously think he was killed?”
“Because,” Braden shrugged, “I didn’t want you getting in the way. You seem nosy and a little proper. The process of witch-justice isn’t exactly clean, you know.”
“I’m not nosy.” It was finally my turn to flash him a smug smile. “I’m inquisitive. And resourceful. And tenacious.” He laughed, but I continued anyway. “And I don’t know where you got this idea of me being proper or uptight, but you’re dead wrong about that, buddy. Just because I don’t think you should be pounding beers by yourself on a Tuesday afternoon doesn’t make me uptight.” I grinned, seeing his surprise. “So, are we going to crack this case or what?” I stuck out my hand for a shake.
He glanced down at my hand, then back up to my eager face. “What?”
“You want to know what happened to Lucas, right? And so do I. We’re teaming up, aren’t we?” His expression was halfway between shocked and amused. “Come on, all the best investigators have partners. You can be the Watson to my Holmes.”
“Oh, really?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “And why do you get to be Holmes?”
“Well, because he’s the brilliant one, of course.” I flashed him another smug smile. “But I have to admit, you do better encapsulate his addictive tendencies.”
“And you perfectly capture Watson’s penchant to niggle.” He smirked back at me, not missing a beat. “Not that it matters, though. The best detectives don’t work in teams. They work alone.”
“Not true!”
“Really? Name one other famous duo besides Holmes and Watson.”
“Uh.” I racked my brain for another famous team of investigators, but came up empty. “Batman and Robin?”
“They’re superheroes. Doesn’t count.” He chuckled. At least I was entertaining.
“Well, they don’t actually have superpowers, and they do solve crime, so I’m counting it as a win.” I shrugged. “Come on, you need an ally, I need an ally. We’ll be training together anyway, so we can just think of it as extra credit.” I held out my hand again, giving him a hopeful smile.
He turned his attention toward the people still milling about near the fire as he contemplated. He turned back to me, forehead wrinkled, but he grasped my hand anyway.
“Fine, we can work together. Just don’t go getting all squeamish when I have to get my hands a little dirty, okay?”
“You mean if you have to get your hands dirty.” I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping he’d misspoken.
His dry laugh told me he hadn’t. “Sure, Meena.”
I was about to press him on the issue further when the people socializing around the fire turned their attention to a tall man in a light gray cloak, who had assumed a commanding position on top of a large stump next to the blaze, his hands raised over his head. Braden and I fell still and silent along with the cloaked figures gathered in the clearing.
“Welcome, brothers and sisters.” The tall man had the hood of his cloak drawn up, and his face was concealed under a golden mask with a long beak. “Tonight, we celebrate the first full moon of the new school year. Thanks to all of your efforts, our power grows with each year. Let us never forget that we are stronger together.”
The audience applauded, and the hooded speaker waited for silence before continuing.
“Does that guy seem familiar to you?” I whispered in Braden’s ear, but he waved me off, his focus trained on the man at the front of the gathering.
I couldn’t place the man’s voice. It was somewhat unnatural, deep and distorted, as if being artificially modulated. But something about his presence left me with a sense of déjà vu.
As the applause faded, he resumed his speech.
“Many of witchkind have forgotten this fact. They prefer to work alone, mistrusting other witches and fearful of collaboration. Their isolation makes them weak. They look down at our kind, as they are unwilling to make the sacrifices necessary to benefit the collective good. But we are strong.”
More applause, only this time the speaker seized on the excitement and projected his voice over the noise from the crowd.
“We do not shirk away from our duty, our quest for the betterment of witchkind. We do not accept our place in the shadows, and through our combined strength, we will bring about the future that all witches deserve.”
The applause reached a fever pitch, and the masked man surveyed the crowd, soaking it in. He raised his arms as he spoke again.
“Tonight, we welcome another donor to our cause. The first of many to come this year.”
Murmurs issued from among the crowd as the tall speaker nodded over his shoulder. Two large men emerged from the shadows behind the speaker and the fire, also hooded and masked. They carried a smaller man between them, each with a firm grip on one of the smaller man’s arms. The smaller man’s eyes darted around wildly, mad with fear. His hands were bound behind his back and his mouth was gagged.
“What is this? What are they going to do to him?” I whispered to Braden again, horrified at the sight before me. I recollected my earlier vision, and my stomach lurched as I imagined what might be in store for the bound man.
“I think you know what it is.” Braden’s cool gaze did little to put me at ease.
I stared horrified as the bound man was brought to his knees before the tall hooded man at the front of the assembly. “We have to do something.”
“And what exactly would you suggest? Unless you somehow learned some magical combat in the two days that you’ve been here, I’m not sure we’ve got much of a chance.”
The leader pulled a knife from somewhere within his cloak, holding it up above his head as he led the group gathered in the clearing through a chant in a language I couldn’t understand. Just like in my vision.
Panic rose through my chest, my mind racing. “So what, we just sit here and watch them murder this man? We can’t do anything!?”
The chanting from the group intensified as the man at the front swayed in a trance-like state, one hand on the bound man’s shoulder, the other still holding the knife raised above his head.
Braden searched my face through narrowed eyes, then turned back to the hooded man and his prisoner, staring at them intently, his expression unreadable.
“Braden!” He turned to me as I opened my eyes wide and jutted my chin forward, prompting him toward action. I fixed him with my fiercest glare. “We can’t stand by and let them kill this man. I don’t know if this is totally normal among witches or something, but I am not okay with that. What if that was Lucas up there? Would you just sit here like a coward?”
He sighed as he rolled his eyes. “Fine. Here, tie this around your face.” He held out a black bandana.
I knotted it around my neck and slipped it up over my nose, concealing everything but my eyes, and drew the hood of my cloak up. Braden pulled out another piece of cloth and did the same.
I cocked my head at him. “What, you just carry around multiple bandanas with you everywhere?” What kind of person had such things on hand?
“If we’re going to be working together, you better learn the basics. Rule number one of covert operations: be prepared for anything.” I couldn’t see his mouth, but his grin stretched all the way to his eyes. “Besides, all good superheroes k
now to protect their real identities. Duh.”
I rolled my eyes. “So, what do we do? Did you bring any weapons?”
“Just these.” Braden held up his hands, his eyes pinched in a grin again. He turned to the clearing, where the masked man was still leading the others in the chant. “Just stay here, and don’t move.” He rose and crept around the shrubs that concealed us.
“Wait!” I hissed after him, but it was too late. He emerged into the clearing, striding confidently toward the chanting people.
Chapter 12
“Hey guys! Aw dang it, am I late?” Braden threw his hands up in dismay as he approached the group. The chanting ceased abruptly as everyone turned toward him. “I thought the ceremony was supposed to start two strokes after midnight? Did I get my strokes mixed up again? Gosh, I can never keep my strokes straight. Why can’t we just use regular times?”
Some of the crowd started in toward Braden, and he held up his hands in innocence as they surrounded him. “Hey, my bad. Did I interrupt?”
“Easy, brothers and sisters. It seems our cups overflow with blessings, tonight.” The people who had converged on Braden backed away when their leader addressed them. He directed his beak toward Braden as he continued. “Tell me, who are you, brother? Do you seek to join us, the Children of Cain?”
Braden glanced around the circle of people surrounding him. “Nah, clubs aren’t really my thing, actually.” He shrugged at the leader. “More of a lone-wolf type, I guess.”
“Well, that’s too bad. But no matter.” The tall leader nodded to the two goons who had carried in the bound man. They returned his nod and marched menacingly toward Braden. “You’ll be happy to know that enthusiasm is not necessary for contributing to our cause. Your blood will do just fine.”
The two men rushed at Braden. Just before they reached him, he made several deliberate gestures with his hands and thrust them palms-up toward the sky. A thick fog sprung up from the ground, obscuring the entire clearing from view.
I squinted into the mist, to no effect. Crap. Doesn’t he know any other tricks?
Panicked shouts issued from within the fog.
“Kill the interloper!” The masked leader’s modulated voice was fierce and urgent.
Flashes of light illuminated the fog from the inside and were followed shortly by grunts. I couldn’t tell whether they were from exertion or pain.
I groaned. Why would he run in there alone, with no plan? What am I supposed to do, just sit here and wait?
He did have a point about my total lack of magical skills, though. I knew a little taekwondo from when I was young, but I didn’t think that would be too useful against a bunch of bloodthirsty witches.
I felt vulnerable, crouching alone in the dark woods. I groped around on the ground for a stick or a rock, anything I could use to defend myself, but it was difficult to see, and I came up with little more than dirt. The fire’s dull light was all but smothered by the thick fog, and the dense trees around me didn’t allow much moonlight to filter down to the forest floor. However, there was a small illuminated patch about a dozen yards away.
I crept over to the moonlit area. A bone-white piece of wood jutted from the earth, almost glowing as it caught the light of the full moon. My hand tingled as I wrapped it around the wood’s end and pulled. It came loose easily, and strangely no dirt clung to the previously buried portion. It was almost as tall as me, slim and straight and comprised of a smooth and hard pale wood. It reminded me of a piece of driftwood I had found once, on a trip to the beach with my grandmother what seemed like a lifetime ago.
I whacked the long stick on the ground to gauge its strength. It had some give, but seemed solid. I walked back to the fog-obscured clearing with a little more confidence. At least I had some manner of protection now.
Urgent shouts still issued from the chaotic cloud. A strong wind blew, whipping my hair around, though the dense fog seemed unaffected by the gusts.
“Someone clear out this damn fog!” the leader’s deep voice boomed through the clearing, even angrier now, and the wind intensified, whipping the branches and tree leaves all around me. But still the blanket of fog hung undisturbed.
Guess maybe Braden knows what he’s doing. Despite myself, I was impressed.
Something stirred in the fog up ahead, and I raised the stick in front of me.
“Is that you?” I rasped as I peered into the mist, but there was no more movement, and I was answered only by the pounding of my own heart. I tightened my grip on the stick.
I wanted to call out again to confirm if it was Braden, but I figured he would’ve answered if it was him, so I remained silent. I stepped toward the edge of the fog, squinting to make out any shapes.
A reedy woman leaped from the gloom, a wand raised in front of her. “Should’ve stayed out of our business,” she growled as she twitched her fingers and flourished her thin wand.
Black tendrils shot toward me from the tip of her wand, and I swung at them with my long stick. To my amazement, a brilliant white light followed the stick’s arc and sliced the advancing tendrils clean in half just before they reached me. They dissipated in a thin grey smoke that mingled with the fog behind my attacker.
“Whoa.” I looked down at the stick. It still appeared as merely a benign fallen tree branch. Maybe a little out of place in these particular woods, but not outrageously so.
And yet, in the aftermath of the unexpected lightshow, it thrummed faintly in my hands. Like the vibrations of a tuning fork, only deeper.
The woman was momentarily stunned, but quickly regained her composure and squared herself as she raised her wand again.
“You have some power, I see.” Her voice was callous and hungry. “But I’m afraid that crude staff won’t save you.”
She waved her wand in front of her in a spiraling arc, weaving it around her free hand as she tweaked her fingers into different shapes. Some kind of energy gathered around her, sending a shiver through me. The leaves and sticks on the forest floor around her stirred, drawn up into the gathering vortex. The woman’s mouth, visible just below her dark mask, contorted into a mad grin as her tongue played across her lips.
I glanced around in search of an ally or some cover to duck behind, but found neither. I cursed myself for not asking Leia to come with me. At least she knew some magic. Then again, maybe it would have done nothing more than put her in danger, too.
Time seemed to slow as the masked woman raised both hands above her head. Small sticks and leaves were suspended in the electrified air all around her, and the trim of her cloak hung half-raised, frozen mid-ripple. It would have been beautiful if it was not so terrifying.
My trance was broken when she thrust both hands forward with an ear-piercing shriek and sent the barrage of energy and debris hurtling toward me. I flinched against the impending pain, ducking and raising my stick feebly in front of my head.
No impact came. I opened my eyes and peered around, my shoulders still hunched, and the stick still held up in front of me. The debris that had been suspended around the masked woman now hung in the air all around me, and I found myself at the center of some kind of shimmering dome that seemed to emanate from the bone-white stick in my hands.
Just when I think things can’t possibly get any weirder.
I gazed in wonder at the forest litter, frozen mid-flight. I sensed the presence of each individual piece of debris, along with the energetic medium they were trapped in. It called to mind the sensation I had felt when Chancellor Singh had pressed her hand to my chest in Wallace’s office and the energy that had flooded my awareness when Professor Wallace called me for the Choosing. But it was also very different from both of those occasions. It was raw, un-tempered. I closed my eyes and let myself absorb the potential all around me. It felt powerful. The air crackled as magical energy coursed through me.
The masked woman gawked at me. “Impossible.”
I shrugged. “I know, right?”
I breathed deep and focused on t
he energy around me, drawing it into myself. I imagined hurtling myself at the masked woman and sensed the debris in the air stir. I thrust the stick forward with both hands still on it, and the shimmering dome burst with a deafening crack as a jet of air surged toward the woman in the mask.
She squealed as she raised her arms in front of her, but they did little to absorb the impact, and she shrieked in fear as she was blown off her feet back into the fog.
“Daaaang.” I gazed in wonder down at the pale stick. “Best. Stick. Ever.” It thrummed as before, and I now found it a little scary, after seeing its potential. It felt like holding a loaded gun.
A blood-curdling shout drew my attention back to the mist-shrouded clearing. Braden had been gone for too long. I couldn’t just stand here and wait for him to emerge. What if he had been hurt or captured? It had been my idea to save the prisoner in the first place. It wasn’t exactly my fault that Braden had rushed into the clearing like an idiot, but I still felt an obligation to help. I tightened my grip on the stick, holding it out in front of me as I stepped into the cloud.
My heart pounded as I crept slowly through the thick fog. I squinted all around, catching the occasional moving shadow, but nothing more. The smoke from the big fire seemed to have mingled with the magical fog, and it stung my eyes and throat. There was no way I was going to randomly stumble into Braden in this mess.
“Braden!” I called into the fog in a hoarse, shouting whisper. I feared that the wrong person would hear me, but I didn’t see what other choice I had. “Braden! Are you there?”
“Uhh,” someone groaned a few feet in front of me.
I approached slowly, my magic stick at the ready.
The bound man appeared through the fog, crouched in front of me, but he was no longer gagged, and his hands were untied. “Stay back! I’m warning you.” His eyes darted around frantically as he cowered away from me. “Please. Don’t kill me. Who are you people?” he pleaded at me, his bravery apparently exhausted.
A Curse of Magic Page 10
