“Sure,” Vicky interrupts, “but when he does, he will be hard to beat.”
I can’t stop a grin from spreading across my face.
Quinn sees it and gives me a warning look. “You should only use this power-.”
“Any power,” D’Maeo adds.
“… when necessary. Always remember that our existence is a secret, and should stay that way.”
D’Maeo continues. “Only practice here and don’t use your powers for personal gain.”
“Oh, come on!” I throw my hands up. “So if it’s pouring, I can’t even stop the rain?”
Jeep leans towards me. “Sure you can. Just make sure it looks natural. Chase the clouds to the next street for example, but not too fast.”
“Jeep.” D’Maeo doesn’t sound happy. “Stop giving the boy ideas, please.”
I snort. “Boy?”
He tilts his head. “You are only sixteen, even if you are the chosen one. And you’re new to all of this.”
Quinn’s head is bobbing up and down beside him. They look like two fathers telling their sons off. “We all have to be careful with our powers.”
“Sure, I get it. I’ll behave myself.” Most of the time. “I should go home. It was a long day again and I’m not really looking forward to tomorrow.” I turn to D’Maeo. “Keep an eye on Maël. If anything happens, call for Quinn.”
CHAPTER 17
My alarm clock has been beeping for three minutes before I can tear myself from a strange dream about vampires, werewolves and ogres that looked a lot like Shrek.
Another two minutes of rubbing my eyes later, I realize what day it is. I jump out of bed, open my door and listen intently. Everything could go wrong if Mom woke up from the sound of my alarm.
But the house is quiet.
I get dressed quickly and pull Vicky’s spell from my pocket. I got the ingredients at the supermarket on my way home yesterday, so I’m all set to start the spell.
I sneak downstairs to the kitchen and throw everything in a ceramic bowl. Dried fern leaf, poppy seeds, dill weed and a few drops of dew from the garden. I grind it together and then spread it over the bottom of the bowl. As instructed, I heat it slowly on the cooker, until green smoke curls up. Then I grind it again, while softly saying,
“Shadows, shadows come to me,
surround me so only I can see.”
With the bowl in my hands, I creep up the stairs. Very carefully, I open Mom’s bedroom door. She’s still sleeping.
I tiptoe around the room, repeating the enchantment in a whisper, but changing it slightly.
“Shadows, shadows come to me,
surround us so only we can see.”
I lie down on the floor and sprinkle myself from head to toe with the powder from the bowl. Then I stand up and step towards the bed. The tricky part is turning the blankets down, so I can spread enough of the concoction over Mom’s whole body. I start with the parts that are covered by her pajamas. She turns and pulls the blankets back over her, just when I drop a few grains on her feet.
I wait for a few seconds, and when she doesn’t wake up, I drop some powder on her head and start chanting softly.
“Wanted by evil, dark as night,
I cloak us now in magic’s light.
Make us unseen, from left to right,
invisible from any height.
Wrap the shadows all around,
block all motion, touch and sound.
Keep us out of every fight,
hide us both from evil’s sight.”
I gasp when shadows detach themselves from the corners of the room like living things. They dive towards me and Mom. I hold my breath when stretched black bodies swirl around me. More and more shadows release themselves from the furniture. They wrap around us with a soft hiss. While the room gets lighter, we turn darker.
For a moment, I think the shadows will strangle me. They pull around me tightly, cutting off oxygen and blood flow. The room spins around me. I want to grasp something for support, but I can’t move my arms. Did I do something wrong? Did Vicky give me the wrong spell?
Another shadow hits me square in the face and I stagger. I can’t see. It’s as if I’m floating. The air around me feels thick, it’s hard to breathe.
Patches of light start dancing before my eyes. I draw in a deep, unsteady breath and blink several times. The dark is gone, my feet are planted solid on the floor. Everything looks normal again, except for Mom sitting up in bed.
“Dante? What’s wrong?”
I try a smile, while I hide the bowl behind my back. “Nothing.” My mind reaches for a plausible excuse. “You were shouting, so I came to check on you. But it was just a bad dream.”
She yawns. “Oh, I’m sorry I woke you up. What time is it?” She squints at her alarm clock. “Five o’clock?” She falls back onto her pillow. “Go back to bed, honey. I’ll be fine.”
I kiss her on the cheek and go back to my room.
Although I’m still tired, I can’t sleep anymore. I feel like my head could explode any minute.
So I install myself on my bed with Dad’s notebook. I skip the angry scribbles that make my skin crawl and look for a useful spell.
My eyes fall on a page that says Book Protection Spell. Use this if you need to prevent evil from reading a book, like a notebook or a Grimoire.
I get up and rummage through the drawers in my desk. I know I have an unused notebook somewhere. Mom’s friend Mona gave it to me for my birthday once. I have no idea why. I’ve never written anything in my life. I would have been much happier with a sketchbook.
I find it at the bottom of the last drawer. When I hold it next to Dad’s book, the resemblance is striking. It has the same dark red leather binding and thickness, but mine looks unused and doesn’t have claw marks on it. It’s perfect.
I grab a pen and pencil and settle onto my bed again.
On the first page, I write my name in big curly letters. Below that, I write Book of Spells.
Before I put in anything else, I decide to protect it. I go downstairs to get everything I need. This spell is a combination of two spells I’ve cast before, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Only a few words are different.
A couple of minutes later, my Book of Spells is laying in a circle of salt and candles in front of my bed. In a bowl, I’ve mixed the herbs I used to protect both this house and Darkwood Manor.
By now I know the spell by heart. I only have to change one word.
“Salt and herbs, nine times nine,
guard well this book of mine.”
After shaking the contents of the bowl nine times, I dip my finger in it and draw a circle around the notebook, within the ring of salt.
I invoke the powers of the four elements. As soon as the candles are blown out by a magical breeze, I move on to calling the shadows.
“Wanted by evil, dark as night,
I cloak this book in magic’s light.
Make it unseen, from left to right,
unreadable from any height.
Wrap the shadows all around,
block all eyes and touch and sound.
Keep it out of every fight,
hide its contents from evil’s sight.”
Once more, the shadows form slender bodies that dive through the air. They envelop the Book of Spells and lift it up. Dark hands toss it around, until it is fully covered in darkness. Then it lands on the new laminate boards with a soft thud and the shadows withdraw to their rightful places.
When I pick it up, a surge of energy flows through me. Images of all the demons I’ve encountered so far flash before my eyes. It’s as if the book wants me to draw them. As if it was meant to be a book of spells and monsters.
I clean up the floor as fast as I can, wash the bowl and put away the candles.
When I return to my bed, the red of the book is pulsing slightly.
Carefully I grab it again, but it feels normal. I frown when I
notice my writing on the first page has turned yellow. When I put my father’s notebook next to it, I realize the letters are the same color as his name. And that’s not the only weird thing. Before I even look closer, I already know, it’s the same handwriting.
There’s no doubt in my mind that I never wrote Dad’s name in his notebook. This must be some kind of magic. Maybe it’s because the books are the same. Whatever the reason, it feels good to me. Somehow, Dad and I are still connected. I carry on his mission and use his words to help me.
I wipe away a stray tear and put Dad’s notebook aside. The pulsing red of my Book of Spells tells me it’s time to fill it with everything I know.
I start by writing down all the spells I’ve used. Some I can copy from Dad’s book, others are taken from memory. I’ll have Vicky check them later.
When I can’t think of another spell, I start drawing every demon I’ve seen. Below the pictures I describe where I saw them and how we defeated them, if we did. When I’m done, it’s almost eight o’clock. Mom will be up soon to make breakfast. But there are two more drawings I want to include. One of the true streetscapes of Blackford, and one of the creatures I saw at the Winged Centaur.
I’ve barely finished the last of those, the menacing Boogeyman, when Mom knocks on my door. “Breakfast is ready.”
I slam my book closed and put it back in the bottom drawer. “I’m coming!”
As soon as I’m dressed, I put Dad’s notebook back behind my waistband. I remember what the date is and smile. So far, Friday the thirteenth has been good to me. I can only hope it’ll stay that way.
When I pull out of our street, I already drive towards the middle of the road without thinking.
“What are you doing?” Mom asks.
I steer Phoenix from the magical road onto the normal lane. “Sorry, thought I saw a squirrel.”
The rest of the way to Darkwood Manor, she chats about how lovely it is that we’re doing something together, just the two of us.
Her eyes grow wide when we pull up to the mansion. “Is this your house?”
I park Phoenix and lean on the steering wheel, trying to imagine what she must be thinking.
She shivers. “It’s so creepy. Maybe you should sell it.”
I shrug. “You get used to it. And I’m sure I can make something great out of it.”
She crinkles her nose. “Isn’t it a bit big for you?”
I tilt my head as if contemplating the possibilities. “I’ve got plans.”
Her heads swivels in my direction. “Really? What kind of plans?”
“Can’t tell you yet.” I grin.
Don’t know yet.
I open the car door. “I’ll get my wallet and we can be on our way.”
For a moment, I think she’s going to ask me for a tour of the house, but she just keeps looking at it with disgust.
“I’ll be right back.”
In the kitchen, D’Maeo hands me my wallet.
“Thanks.” My gaze flicks to Maël. “Are you ready to come with us? You can also stay here. Quinn and Charlie will arrive in about ten minutes.”
She lifts her head full of spiraling curls. Her golden headpiece glistens in the morning sun. “It would be my honor to accompany you, master.”
I get a sudden urge to bow, but Vicky is pulling at my arm. “Let’s go. I want to find out who is on the Cards of Death.”
I watch them walk out of the house and fade into the back seat. With five of them there, it must really look like a Picasso painting. I guess I won’t be using my rearview mirror a lot today.
CHAPTER 18
While Mom tells me about her latest talk with Mona, the ghosts stay quiet. At one point Taylar gets bored though, and takes Jeep’s hat. He puts it on Mom’s head and moves it from side to side singing, “Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to know.”
I try to keep a straight face, but since Mom is still chatting, it looks like she’s singing with Taylar’s voice, which is really funny.
I can’t hear what she’s saying anymore, so I just nod and hum a bit, meanwhile biting my lip to stop myself from laughing.
When we stop at Pinestone Bird Park and pile out of the car, I wrap my right arm around Mom and hold Vicky’s hand with the other.
Jeep smirks. “Oh, what a wonderful family trip.”
I pay for two at the counter, feeling a bit guilty.
Mom studies the map she got. “I can’t believe how much this park has changed.”
“We’ve been here before?”
She puts her arm through mine. “Sure, when you were little. You loved the owls. I think I still have a couple of drawings you made.”
We pass a restroom and Mom excuses herself.
I sit on a low wall a bit out of sight, so I can talk to the Shield. We study my copies of the Cards of Death again and decide what to look out for. “If you see a star, a company name starting with an M or a woman with a hair bun, let me know.”
“What about screens?” Vicky asks, pointing at the picture.
I nod. “Sure, you never know.”
Mom waves at me and I join her.
“Were you on the phone? I heard you talking.”
Vicky squeezes my hand.
“Yeah, Charlie called. I’m meeting him tonight.”
Mom’s face falls. “Really? I was hoping we could spend the whole day together.”
I pull her closer. “That would be great. If you’re not too tired.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not ill anymore, Dante. We can stay up for as long as we like.”
I plant a kiss on her temple. “And we will.”
“Oh my God, you two are sweet as sugar,” Jeep says.
“You’re just jealous,” I mumble.
“What’s that?” Mom asks.
I point at a couple of wade birds with carmine heads and dark grey wings, standing in a small pond. “Look at those fellows.”
“They’re beautiful.”
Jeep snorts. “Nice save.”
Mom takes some pictures and we move along. I wish I had brought my sketchbook. There are so many different birds in this park. It would be nice to draw something normal again, instead of a ghost house and monsters.
But I can’t concentrate on drawing now, anyway. I’m constantly looking for clues, and so is the Shield. We don’t have much luck though. By the time we finish lunch, I’m starting to think we’re in the wrong place.
But then Mom furrows her brows. “Those are strange birds. Some sort of sandhill cranes, but uglier?”
I follow her gaze and almost spit out the drink I took with me.
Three small demons are roaming around nervously near the owlery. The owls are screeching deafeningly, flapping their wings. I can’t blame them. Although the demons don’t pay them any attention, their smell is nauseating and the sight of them would make anyone turn around and run.
They look a lot like the other tar covered demons we’ve encountered lately, only smaller and with long tails. Their beady eyes are glowing and black saliva drips from their mouths.
I plant my feet firmly on the ground and reach for the buzz next to my heart.
Taylar has already whipped out his sword and shield and Maël clutches her staff.
But D’Maeo holds up his hand. “Wait. They can’t see us, remember. We’re invisible and you and your mom can’t be seen by evil, thanks to the spell. That won’t wear off until tonight.”
The demons lift their heads and sniff the air.
They might not be able to see us, but it looks like they can still smell us.
Vicky puts her hand on my arm. “Relax. We’re fine.”
Mom is already walking towards the first owl cage and I fight the urge to pull her back.
“If they can’t see or sense us, why are they here?” I whisper to Vicky.
Taylar points at a woman emerging from one of the cages. She has long, wavy ginger hair and is dressed in a pinstripe s
uit. The demons immediately turn their dripping heads towards her.
She closes the cage and waves at the owls. “Bye guys, I’m off to work.”
She greets Mom, who’s studying two owls that are huddled together. Then she binds her hair together into a tight bun and walks away. The demons follow her closely.
“That must be her, right?” I whisper. “We should follow her.”
“How?” Jeep asks. “She’s going to work. We’ve only seen half the park.”
“Can’t you guys go after her?”
He shakes his head. “I wish we could. But we’ll be pulled back to the mansion when we’re not near you, remember?”
“Oh, right, I forgot.” I tap my foot. “What if you follow her until you disappear? At least we’ll know which direction to search in.”
“Dante? Are you on the phone again?” Mom is standing behind me, the map in her hands.
I turn around with a smile. “No, just talking to myself.”
“Well, come on. These owls are so beautiful. Look here.” She’s already moving away from us again and I seize the opportunity to gesture to Jeep.
He salutes and dissipates without a sound. The rest of us follow Mom.
Every few seconds, I look over my shoulder and scan for demons, but all I see are birds and visitors.
We’re admiring the macaws when a man in a dark suit taps Mom on the shoulder. I’ve already moved to the next birdcage, so I can chat a little with my Shield.
When Mom turns around, suit man spreads his arms. “Susan! It’s really you!”
I have never seen this man before in my life, but Mom seems to know him. She hugs him and smiles. “Trevor, how are you?”
“Fine, fine.”
While they chat, an idea hits me. “We should call Quinn, he can follow that woman with the hair bun.”
D’Maeo nods. “Yes, you could try that. Maybe he can locate Jeep.”
The Second Premonition Page 10