“You’re alive,” she said and wept.
The hum in her head increased and vibrated down her back, to her arms and hands, on to her legs and feet. Her sore knee quit hurting.
She felt Lenny shudder against her. He struggled from her as he sat up, looked around, and asked, “Where are we? What happened? My body feels like it got pile driven at a football game.”
Vree saw that they were now bathed in white light that came from each other. Their skin glowed, grew brighter and hurt her eyes as night around them became brighter than any daylight she had ever seen. Warmth filled her; she felt joyful to be with Lenny.
“I love you,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears before she rushed him and wrapped her arms around him, nearly setting him off balance. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She knew it was a silly thing to say. And she knew that professing her love and crying in front of a boy she barely knew was silly of her, too, but she could not control her emotions.
“I don’t know why I’m being so emotional,” she said as Lenny held her and hushed her.
Moments later, a shadow passed over them. Lenny looked up at a tall, long-legged woman standing inside the light and looking down at them, her dark eyes wide and her ghostly white face drawn in perverse delight.
The fact that she wore brown leather sandals, short denim coveralls over a red T-shirt, and a hairstyle from the 1940s didn’t surprise Lenny. Spirits manifested their electromagnetic energy to the mortal world as an exhibition of their selves and personalities, which included fashions. And he had seen enough pictures in his great-grandparents’ photo album to recognize their nemesis and killer.
* * *
“LEAVE US ALONE,” Vree said, rising to her feet and facing Margga. The light she emitted caused the ghost witch to squint.
“My, my,” Margga said. “You’ve got balls … and a new surge of magic, don’t you?”
“That’s right,” Vree said. “And I’ll give it to you once you release my father.”
“It’s too late for that.”
Was it after eleven o’clock? Vree didn’t think so.
“Then you can’t have my powers,” she said.
“Oh, I’m already taking them. With every second that passes, I’m drawing your magic from you.”
Vree looked at her arms and hands and saw that they didn’t shine as brightly now. And the hum in her head had quieted.
“Then I’ll take my magic back,” she countered.
Margga laughed. “You really think so?” she hissed.
Vree cast her gaze away from Margga and saw Sarlic’s body on the ground. She went to him and placed her hands on his chest. She felt no movement beneath his suit.
“He’s dead,” Margga said. She laughed again.
Vree looked away. She looked for Lenny and saw that he was gone. Had he left in fear as soon as she confronted Margga?
Vree stood and faced Margga again. The ghost witch looked down and grinned at a large, black dog sitting at her feet. The dog seemed to grin back at her.
Like black cats, black dogs were familiars to witches. And if Margga were truly a witch, she would have to defend herself physically whenever confronted face-to-face by another witch.
But I’m not a witch, Vree thought. Am I?
There was one way to find out.
“I challenge you for the spirit of my father,” Vree said.
Margga sucked in air and looked up. The black dog looked at Vree and growled.
“No behind-the-back-magic-spell-crap,” Vree said. “Once a witch calls another witch to the carpet, they must cast aside their magic. That’s why they were so easily caught and put to death all those centuries ago.”
“Is that so?” Margga hissed.
“Yes. Which is why I’m calling you out, Margga, and why,” her voice rose, “I’m going to destroy you unless you release my father to me.”
“You? You sassy little girl. You think you’re powerful enough to destroy me?”
“Yes.”
Hatred filled Margga’s face. Her dark eyes burned flames at Vree. “I’m much more powerful now than you are,” she said. She drew back her right hand and flung a red sphere at Vree.
Vree jumped aside and the spell shot past her and crashed against the ground behind her in a flash of red light.
“No magic,” Vree cried out.
“Does it frighten you?” Margga squinted and grinned. “I will drain all of your magic and it’ll be mine. Then I’ll show this town—no! I’ll show this world how frightening my power can be.” Her hands glowed crimson as she raised them to her chest.
“You’re not allowed to fight me with magic,” Vree said. “That’s the rule you are bound by. Now put away your spells and listen to me.”
“Foolish child,” Margga hissed, “those days are long gone. There is no honor code among witches anymore.”
Vree opened her mouth to argue, but the sound of a cat meowing stopped her. The orange, mangy tabby from earlier ran to her and rubbed its body against her ankles, purring. Pus still oozed from its closed right eye.
And by the wild look in Margga’s eyes, Vree knew the cat’s life was in danger.
“Here kitty, kitty,” Margga called.
The cat ran to her, meowing louder.
Margga’s hands brightened as they caught fire. “I call out your power to come to me,” she said to Vree.
Vree watched the cat stop and look back at her, as though it had become confused.
“No,” Vree said, choking back a sob.
Margga passed her hands through the air and flung a flaming spell at the cat. The animal yowled and vanished in a cloud of red smoke.
“No!” Vree screamed.
Margga threw another spell, this one at Vree and caught her off guard as she backpedaled. The fireball exploded against Vree’s chest and pushed her over uneven ground where she fell amidst a cloud of yellow sparks and red smoke.
Chapter Eighteen
“WHAT THE … YOU … you’re glowing white,” Dave said when Lenny entered the living room. He rose from the sofa and stared at Lenny. “And you’re soaking wet. You’re dripping water all over my grandma’s carpet.”
“No time,” Lenny said, out of breath. “I need my book.” He went to the piano where Amy sat at the bench on the other side.
“You mean the music book?” Amy asked. She stopped playing a tune and stood to hand Lenny the heavy book from her lap.
“Music book?” Lenny opened the book and read sections of poetry. Like Vree earlier, he could read portions of the book. Other portions were undecipherable to him.
“The thing is filled with music,” Amy said. She reached across the piano and pointed at a section he couldn’t read. “See. I’ll play it.”
While Amy sat and played the music, Lenny leafed through the book. “There was a feather here that belongs to a white crow. Gam Gam told me that a white crow feather is powerful magic for witches.”
Dave groaned from his spot behind Lenny.
Lenny turned on him, their noses inches apart. “Your sister is more than psychic,” Lenny said. “She’s a witch. A good witch like my Gam Gam. She saved my life. That’s why I’m shining all white. But a bad witch wants her magic and … and there’s no time to explain the rest. Her life is in danger unless I can get the crow feather to her.”
For a moment, Dave looked angry. Then the emotion on his face changed to surprise as he looked at the piano. Lenny looked too at the tub of movie theater popcorn that had appeared on top of the piano.
Amy stopped playing and the tub of popcorn vanished.
“I was thinking about hot, buttery popcorn,” she said to Lenny. Her surprised look matched Dave’s.
Wonderment passed between them. Lenny saw an arrowhead on the piano and said, “Keep that with you tonight at all times. And if your grandmother has enough salt, pour some at the front and backdoors. There are hellhounds loose tonight.”
Confusion crossed Amy’s face.
“Trus
t me,” Lenny said. Then he remembered why he had come for the book.
“I need the feather,” he said. He hurried around the upright piano and saw his drawing beneath the bench. The feather was there, too. He tucked both in the book and went to a bookcase. On top was a clay vase with plastic red roses arranged in a bouquet. He dumped the flowers on top of the piano and bolted from the room.
* * *
A FORCE OF red light pressed Vree’s back against a poplar tree near the bank of the brook. Red coils wrapped around her forehead, arms and legs, and fastened her to the tree. Another coil wrapped around her jaw, pressed against her mouth, and became a gag.
Margga lunged at Vree and struck her face with an open hand.
A flame burned in Margga’s heart to see fear on Vree’s bleeding face. A fire roared in the pit of her stomach from the girl’s magic inside her. Terribly, she laughed at the girl’s misery until pain in her head felt like a caged lion with razor-like teeth and claws ripping from within and trying to escape.
Terrible still, she wanted to kill Vree right away before all her magic was gone. But that would ruin the plan of hearing the girl beg for her life once she was powerless and faced death. They all did, whether witch or mortal … or stupid Roualen.
Margga slapped Vree again when she saw that the girl pitied her.
“Don’t you judge me,” Margga said as she removed the coils from Vree’s mouth. “And don’t you ever think you’re better than me.”
With a small shrug of her slim shoulders, Vree said evenly, “Kill me. I don’t care.”
Margga stared at her in disbelief. “Don’t lie to me,” she managed to say. She could barely speak. Then anger brought back her voice. “I know you’re afraid to die. I see it your eyes. ”
“My parents used to be rich. My dad was a lawyer and my mom was a well-paid teacher at a really good school. We lived in a beautiful house and were happy. Now my daddy’s dead and it’s my fault. My brother and sister hate me. We have to live in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere because of my carelessness. So if you think killing me is going to make things worse for any of us, go ahead. Kill me.”
Margga’s anger turned to disbelief again, and then to disappointment. “You’re pathetic. You don’t deserve the magic I’m taking from you. You’re not even worth killing.”
She spat in Vree’s face.
With no warning, pain screamed inside Margga’s head and she wanted to scream with it. She needed to hurry the transference of magic.
* * *
LENNY HURRIED TO the brook and saw Vree pressed against the tree, red coils of magic binding her. Margga yelled and slapped her, which he used as an advantage to go to the brook and dig up the soft earth. He looked for the Rottweiler and heard by its vicious barking that it chased the shadows of his great-grandfather’s dogs. He saw their blue and orange glow in the field grass near the road. He hoped the hellhound wouldn’t see or smell him.
But Margga had more than one hellhound. Gam Gam had told him they often appeared before midnight, circling the ghost witch before her disappearance back to Tartarus, the place where the worst witches went after death, sent there and punished by the Council of Magic.
Lenny scanned the area for the other hellhounds while he dug deeper at the edge of the brook and put Evelyn’s vase inside. He had everything he needed to ward off witchcraft inside the vase, including some of his urine. He covered the vase and nearly jumped when he heard car doors slam at Jack Lybrook’s garage.
Vree’s grandparents and mother were home. Dave and Amy were outside, standing at the backdoor and peering at the darkness beyond the brook. They had followed him outside. But they seemed afraid to go no farther.
While Vree’s grandparents and mother hurried to the backdoor behind him, Lenny crossed the brook at a different location and circled behind Margga. Coils wrapped around Vree’s mouth.
“Stay back,” Vree projected to him when she saw him. “Margga has taken most of my powers. I’m … starting … to weaken.”
Lenny hoped his thoughts would reach Vree without Margga sensing them.
What can I do to help?
“Just … stay … where you are.”
And then Lenny knew he had to create a distraction. He relied on the idea that Margga’s attention was focused fully on Vree, so he focused his on the small of Margga’s back as he ran, dodging the sudden leap from Blood who had returned from chasing Reginald Myers’s ghost dogs, and dived feet first at the witch.
He connected and propelled Margga past Vree, sprawling her face-first to the ground. Lenny caught his balance, opened the book to where he had put the feather, and hurried it to Vree.
“Do you have the arrowhead?” he asked.
“Yes. In my pocket.”
“Good. It’ll slow down Margga’s attack.” He stuck the feather’s quill into one of the coils around Vree before Blood slammed into his left side and sent him sprawling to where Margga lay.
Hands grabbed the book. He wrestled it away from Margga in a tumble of bodies rolling, struggling, pushing, slapping, and clawing until Lenny was on his back and Margga’s knees pressed on his throat. There was a triumphant gleam in her eyes while Lenny fought to breathe.
She pulled the book from his grasp; the air around them crackled.
“This is no fight for weak and pathetic children,” Margga said. She opened her mouth wide and laughed. And while she laughed, hatred overtook her triumphant look and her hands filled with magic.
Pinpoints of light filled Lenny’s vision. He worked his hands beneath Margga’s knees and pushed with all his strength.
The witch toppled forward.
Lenny sucked in air and rolled away. He looked up to see Margga’s hellhound rush at him. He closed his eyes.
The attack never came.
He opened his eyes in time to see Blood soaring through the air like a cloth doll. It landed hard against the wall of the Lybrook house, and then fell to the ground, its body limp and looking lifeless. A red glow appeared around the dog’s body before Blood vanished.
A redder flash of movement in his peripheral caused him to look back at Margga. She had opened the book and now sang with a horrible voice. Her right hand flamed and pointed at him. The flame’s light enhanced her face. Hatred twisted her face into a grotesque mask of evil.
The thought that she was about to end his life barely crossed Lenny’s mind before the fire coming from Margga’s hand surged.
But the air exploded from where Vree stood. A white bolt of energy struck Margga and sent her stumbling to the ground.
* * *
AS SHE FELL, Margga threw her fireball of magic at Vree.
Her coils were gone. At the last second, Vree twisted away and dropped to the ground, shielding her eyes as the spell’s crimson light bathed the tree behind her. There was a sudden rumbling beneath her, as if the ground prepared to split open.
“Release my father,” she yelled out to Margga. “I command you.”
In defiance, Margga’s burning gaze found Vree as she rose to her knees and gestured two flaming hands at the ground in front of the girl. Twin laser blasts of red magic shot from her palms. Vree leaped out of the way, her purple and white Nikes gripping enough of the wet grass to aid her leap. She felt a flash of heat as the twin bolts ripped a chunk of the ground away. Blood and adrenaline raced through her body as she rolled and then leaped to her feet.
“I command you to release my father’s spirit from your spell,” she cried out.
Margga, who also stood now, shouted her defiance and flung a single bolt of magic.
Vree dropped to her stomach as the bolt hurried past her, almost grazing her back. She countered with her own magic, replenished by the white feather she clutched in her left hand. Her magic struck Margga’s counter and it ricocheted away, flying across the brook and striking her grandparents’ house. Vree heard a crack come from the house, but she refused to look to see if there was any damage. She had Margga in full sight now.
&nb
sp; This time, a rope of magic lashed from her eyes in a fiery whip that snaked around Margga’s waist and yanked her off balance. Margga fell and the whip pulled her across the grass and toward Vree.
“No!” Margga screamed as the whip brought her within a few feet from Vree.
The whip vanished and the air around Vree exploded again as she shot a sphere of pure energy from her forehead at Margga. The sphere burst on impact and covered the ghost witch in a spidery, weblike blanket of white magic that emitted sounds similar to ice cubes cracking in a glass during a hot day.
“No!” Margga cried again. She flailed at the magic that spun around her, cocooning her. Her fingers managed to pierce the weblike material. “I’ll destroy you and everyone you’ve ever cared about. You cannot win.” Her face glowed crimson; her fingers turned to flame and she shot transference spells at Vree again and again. But the spells bounced off an armor of white light that now bathed Vree.
Margga struggled, pushed, and tore the magic gripping her. She freed her right arm. Fire engulfed it as her wrath grew. She flung more spells.
Vree’s brows furrowed, her eyelids shut tight, her face fixed in concentration while she worked on maintaining the white sphere around her and the weblike magic still cocooning Margga. Spidery fingers of magic energy cascaded around her, dancing in little sparks. Lightning flashed across the sky. She opened her eyes as her hands raged in an eruptive white glow.
The ground shook as four angry hellhounds appeared behind Margga. Vree aimed her fingers at the dogs leaping at her in a snarling, frothy attack and sent them to oblivion in a flash of white. Then she dodged a transference spell from Margga and countered with a thunder of fireballs and lightning bolts. But Margga managed to deflect her onslaught that burst in flames and bathed them and the brook in unearthly light.
Margga continued to push her way out of Vree’s confinement spell during the deflection. Vree noticed the escape and backed away. Margga stood, shedding the spell like a snake shedding its dry, shriveled skin, and shot transference spells at Vree that bounced away, unable to draw more than a fraction from Vree’s energy.
The battle between them raged on. Vree hoped to last until midnight when Margga would have to leave by the authority of the curse that had brought her here.
But Margga would return next year and continue her revenge against Lenny and his family. And her.
Margga's Curse: A Vree Erickson Novel, Book One Page 14