The Scapegracers

by Hannah Abigail Clarke

  Jing pressed her face into the back of my neck. “I can make something up when the girls ask. Say they weren’t here. Say we couldn’t find them. They’ll either believe it or play along. They’ll never have to know.”

  I didn’t say anything, mostly because I couldn’t. If I spoke, I might scream. Get us caught. Get us tossed out, not that it’d matter now. I knifed my teeth into my bottom lip and let her fingers crisscross over my back, let Jing breathe on my mass of curls.

  There was a stab of light out of the corner of my eye, something broader and brighter than a phone flashlight. A notification from Yates. Jing pulled away from me, swiped her thumb across her screen, and swore. Her hand clamped around my arm, and she yanked me down the aisle and around the corner. We passed three aisles before I slammed my heel into the floor and she jerked to a halt. She whirled her head around to scowl at me. Something dangerous flickered in her. I bit my tongue.

  A table-shaped sheet ghost sat unassumingly to our left. Jing dropped to a crouch and lifted a fistful of sheet, cast a seething glance at me, and dragged us both into the dark below the table.

  It was darker under the table than it was in the archives proper. Black-hole dark. I rubbed my fists in my eyes until I saw bruise colors, and when I pulled my hands away, I could just barely make out the edges of Jing’s blond head as it swiveled against the shadows.

  “Fuck,” she hissed. She whipped out her phone and grabbed mine, turned off the flashlights, and brought down the brightness until the screens were barely visible. She thrust my phone back at me, and I caught it with my rib cage. Her thumbs flew across the screen.

  Daisy fucking Brink, where are you?

  There was a pause, and Yates responded.

  She’s not with you??

  I wrapped my arms around my stomach. My mouth filled up with blood. I must’ve bit my tongue. There wasn’t pain. Just a salty taste. Maybe it was my nerves sizzling.

  The fluorescent lights hummed to life above us. Someone must’ve flipped them on.

  Oh my God. Someone just walked past me.

  Jing’s face, blurry now, but visible, turned vicious. She shot me a glance, and my phone blinked with a notification, which I checked with my heart in my teeth.

  Do you think that book snitched?

  I looked up at her and my insides flipped.

  Fuck. Everything.

  These books were my Judas Iscariot. My stupid daydreams had damned us all.

  Heels to our right. Slow, deliberate footsteps, gingerly clacking back and forth beside our hiding place.

  Jing froze, but her eyes followed the movement back and forth.

  “I know you’re here.” The voice was cloyingly familiar and smooth as melted butter. “There isn’t any need to hide. Come on out, own up. I won’t bite.”

  Jing scoffed, punched something into her phone.

  No fucking thanks, mister.

  “Vade Mecvm Magici. Some of the best spell books around, in my humble opinion. You’ve got good taste . . .” The footsteps trailed away, and the voice became muffled as he left.

  Still no reply from Daisy.

  Whoever was out there cried out.

  Jing snapped her head up.

  The voice spiked an octave higher. “What the hell have you done? Jesus Christ.” The footsteps weren’t deliberate anymore. The stranger ran, shoes echoing across the tiles like thunder. I heard the door slam behind them like a slap across the face.

  Jing’s eyes shot wide. She scurried out from under the table, I followed suit, and we stood shaking under the fluorescents with our hands rolled into fists.

  “Why the fuck did he run, Sideways?” Jing panted. She spun around once, eyes on all the aisles, which were startlingly clear with the lights on. “What the fuck is he running from?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. My knees buckled beneath me.

  “Whatever. Let’s find Daisy and fucking leave.” Jing swore, ripped her fingers through her hair, gnashed her teeth into a tight line. She marched toward the far wall, the direction Daisy was supposed to be searching in. “She probably dropped her fucking phone somewhere.”

  If she had dropped her phone, she’d be staggering around in the dark. How do you lose a working flashlight in a black room? You don’t. Daisy just wasn’t checking her phone. That must be it. I hurried after Jing and shoved my own phone in my pocket, wrapped my arms around my stomach, dug my nails into my sides.

  We glanced down each aisle as we passed it, and all of them were Daisy-less. They stretched back forever and ever, but they were devoid of movement, and Daisy was Daisy. Even if she hadn’t heard the stranger leave, she would’ve moved around or fidgeted or something, wouldn’t she? I barely knew the girl and I knew she couldn’t hold still. Maybe she was moving away from us—maybe that was it.

  We hit the last row in the right half of the room. It was stocked with books and boxes and embellished mirrors, each more intricate than the last. They glinted like long eyes under the lights.

  Daisy’s phone, flashlight still shining, lay abandoned on the floor.

  THIRTEEN

  THIS CHAPTER IS UNLUCKY

  “She’s not here.” Jing splayed her fingers across her face. Her mouth twisted up into a hysterical arch, and she sank her teeth into her palm. Her breathing became ragged. “She wouldn’t leave without her phone. It’d be like leaving her liver behind. She wouldn’t. But she’s not here. There’s only one door, Sideways, and Yates is guarding the fucking door. Where the hell is she?”

  “I don’t know,” I spat. My hands trembled, so I dug my nails harder into my skin. “I don’t fucking know.”

  “This isn’t like her. She doesn’t vanish. Daisy’s like a damned lighthouse. You see her miles away. She doesn’t pull Houdini stunts. It’s like trying to hide a firecracker. It doesn’t work.” Jing jerked her hands away from her face and plucked the phone off the floor. “She left the light on. Damn it, Daisy.”

  A wave of nausea rocked me. I leaned back, squared my shoulders against the wall behind me, and forced breath into my lungs. All the synapses down my spine vibrated. My limbs tingled. Pins and needles in my chest. I’d felt the sickness earlier, the magic malaise, but it was building now. I was teeming with it. My mind was TV static. I lolled back my head.

  “Holy hell,” I said. “It’s Daisy.”

  Her body was suspended in air.

  She was twenty feet above us, held up by nothing, all loose limbs and swaying hair. Her skirt opened like a lily, and her arms were stretched out on either side of her in bloodless stigmata. Her fuchsia heels dangled from her toe-tips. Her head was tossed back. I took a step back, craned my neck, and I saw her face.

  She wore a grin.

  “Jing,” I breathed. “Jing. Fucking, just. Look up.”

  Jing scowled, flipped me off, and obeyed. The scowl dropped off her face. “Oh my God. Daisy!”

  “Shut up,” I hissed. A shiver raked my spine. “What happens if she fucking falls? She’d break her back, or worse.”

  “How the fuck did she get up there?” Jing spun around, eyes turned up, mouth agape.

  “No idea.” Instinct struck. “Call Yates. We’ll need Yates, too.”

  “She’s guarding the door!”

  “If someone comes back up, we’ll get thrown out. Whatever. Just do it, okay?” I dropped to my knees, yanked the bag off my back, and fished out the second book of the VMM. “We need her. It works better with more people.”

  I felt Jing’s eyes on me.

  I set my book on the floor and cracked my knuckles.

  Jing dialed Yates and spoke in harsh tones. I tuned her out, opened the book wide. Blank pages. It took a moment, and then ink scrawled across the page. Diagrams poured themselves into strange shapes. Inscriptions ringed each spell, and I flipped through the pages, scanning for something, fucking anything that looked appropriate. There was a thought in my head about how this book wasn’t fessing up about the ones that rejected me, but I swallowed it. Focus. “Levitati
on,” I spat, thumbing through chapters upon chapters of health spells and herbal drivel. “I need something on levitation.”

  The pages flipped themselves.

  Blue and black ink folded together, stretched into a sigil I didn’t recognize. For flying and falling. I bit my tongue, rubbed my hands together. “Jing.”

  She plunked down beside me, crossed her legs, and seized my hands. “Tell me what to do.”

  I shook my head. I was swimming in my jacket. Everything was sultry and thick. “We’re gonna use the page as our spell. No time to redraw it. It’ll have to work.”

  Yates sprinted up the aisle and screeched, her hands flying up to clasp her mouth and her heart. “God, Daisy! How did—”

  “Sit down.” I swiped my tongue over my gums. “We need you.”

  She nodded, sank between Jing and I, and we gathered up her hands. The page rippled, added another phrase to the chaos.

  Invocate.

  I coughed, opened my mouth. “Come down, Daisy. We enchant you to fall slow.”

  She stayed in place.

  “You’re flying,” said Jing. She threw back her head and gazed up at Daisy, lashes fluttering, mouth screwed at either side. “You’re flying, just like you always said you would.”

  “God, it’s not working. It’s like the Chett curse. It isn’t working. She’s going to be stuck up there,” Yates cried. She started to pull her hand away, and I grabbed it tighter.

  “You’re fucking flying, Daisy,” Jing continued. “We’re watching you fly. What a fucking story to tell. Behold Daisy Brink, who broke the law of gravity.”

  Yates’ chin trembled, but she shook herself off. Blinked a few times and said, “You’ve always been our flyer, Daisy. This is the highest you’ve gone yet. We’ve seen you fly at football games, at the top of a girl pyramid, where you belong. We’ve seen you fly before. But this? This is impressive, even for you. I’ve never seen you so close to the sun before.”

  The magic quickened in me. I cleared my throat, spoke up. “I barely know you and I see it. You’re flying. You’re up there with the stars, shining like you should be, like you oughta be. All Hail Daisy Brink, human victory flag.”

  “When you come down, come slow, okay?” Yates squeezed my hand so tightly that my knuckles cracked. “I want you to come down as slowly and gently as a feather off an angel’s wing. I want you to come down so you can tell us all about how you did it. I want to hear the story of how Daisy Brink flew. Come down, Daisy. Please come down, okay? Slow and soft.”

  “Slow and soft,” I echoed.

  “Daisy,” said Jing. She looked ashen. “Come on down. For us. Right now.”

  A shiver circuited through us. I saw it start in Yates, and it fluttered through me and into Jing, and we all shook together like the gears of some strange machine. Our pulses moved in sync. “Come down,” we said in unison. “Come down.”

  We looked at each other. Then we looked up.

  All the fluorescents flickered in tandem. Daisy floated downward. She moved like a ghost, seamless and fluid, her hair and skirt swishing around her as though she were submerged in water. Her eyes were shut. Her mouth was still curved up in a jackal smile. Her wrists brushed the tiles first, and then the rest of her body floated down between them. Her neck braced on the bridge of Jing’s hand and mine, and her head landed on the open page like it was hitting a pillow.

  As soon as Daisy’s body brushed the floor, Yates and Jing unclasped their hands. Her eyes shot open.

  The lights went out.

  I felt Daisy bolt upright in the darkness. She panted, tossed her arms around herself. I couldn’t make out her face, but I felt her grinning. It was a radioactive smile. It was infectious, slightly noxious. It’d probably kill me.

  I dropped Jing and Yates’ hands and felt around for my book in the dark. The page was warm like skin. I gathered it up, shut it, fumbled around for my bag. Yates turned the flashlight on her phone back on, and she shone it in my direction. I tugged my bag toward me and shoved the VMM back inside, zipped it shut.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Jing stood up and groped in Daisy’s direction. “You’ve got some fucking explaining to do when we’re home, you understand?”

  Daisy didn’t say anything. She clawed at Jing, clambered to her feet, and slung an arm around Jing’s neck. One of her hands shot through the darkness and grabbed at my shoulder, and she pulled me close, used me as leverage as she straightened herself up.

  Yates pointed her flashlight ahead of us, and the four of us lumbered toward the door. “I can hear my heart beating,” she said under her breath. She led us deeper and deeper into the room, closer to the door, away from the spot we’d cast in. “It’s beating so loud. God, I feel like they can hear it downstairs.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Daisy. Her voice was raw. “I can hear your heart beating, too.”

  We sped up our pace.

  “You better be able to walk on your own by the time we get to the stairs,” said Jing. “I am not carrying you down. If you can’t walk, you’re scooting on your ass the whole way down. Like a two-year-old. You hear me?”

  “Crystal clear, baby.” Daisy slumped her head on my shoulder. “Don’t you worry one bit. I can walk. Just remembering how to make my legs move, that’s all. So, did you find your book?”

  “Fuck off,” I said.

  “Gotcha,” Daisy replied. She wobbled on her feet, then abruptly stopped, dropped to the floor, and resurfaced with her heels dangling from her hand. “Insert something cliché about sensible shoes, right?”

  “Put them back on before we get downstairs. Looks less conspicuous. We’re gonna have to play it super cool, especially if whoever that guy was snitches on us. No small talk, nothing. We walk out and drive away. And we do it looking as gorgeous as when we came in. If our server sees us or anything like that, we say that I felt sick and all of you were keeping an eye on me. That’s our story. Understood?”

  “Yeah,” said Yates. “Sideways, you’ve got eyeliner all over your face. I’ll wipe it off, and we can pretend like it wasn’t there in the first place. Let’s hope the band is playing so people’s eyes are on stage. Plus, the food here is delicious, and people came in groups, so their attention is divided. It’s all good. We’ll be fine,” she said, but her reassurances trailed off and she halted mid-step.

  Jing bumped into her. “What? Fucking go.”

  “I saw something move.” Yates took a step backward, smooshing herself closer to the three of us. “I’m not joking. Something totally just moved.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Jing, exasperated. “We don’t have time for this shit. The longer we’re up here, the more likely that someone else is gonna come poking around, and then we’ll be fucked. We don’t need that, you hear? Move your ass.”

  “There’s something there,” Yates insisted. She pointed into the abyss beyond the flashlight’s glow. “I saw it. I’m sure of it.”

  “You’re scaring yourself. Come. On.” Jing unhooked herself from Daisy’s arm, turned on her own flashlight, and walked out in front of us. “Let’s go.” She took a few steps, paused, then spat a curse.

  “See?” Yates’ voice spiked higher.

  “What the hell is going on,” I growled. My tongue ran dry.

  “There’s someone over there.” Jing squinted, leaned toward the dark. “Someone. Something. It’s by the door.”

  “How the fuck are we going to leave if there’s something by the door? Guys,” said Yates, whose voice was turning shrill. “If even the group skeptic sees it, we’re screwed. God, I refuse to die here. Jesus. Sideways?”

  I swore, pulled out my phone, and turned on its flashlight. I added its light to where Jing’s was pointing.

  Something danced just out of sight.

  “Whatever the fuck you are, you can fuck right off,” I said. My pulse thundered in my skull. “Not in the mood right now. Move along.”

  The darkness spoke. “Oh, hush. ‘Good evening�
� would be more polite.”

  My eyes popped wide.

  “I wanted to thank you. I’ve been in that vase an awfully long while. Much too long. Oh, stretching feels divine. What coven do you all belong to?”

  “Excuse me?” said Jing, sounding equal parts bewildered and terrified.

  “What coven is this? I count four of you. There are never four witches in a group without them being in a Group. A coven of witches, like how crows have murders and sheep have herds. Surely you know which coven you belong to, my friends. Pythons or Goldies or Star Thieves or Corbies? Something more modern, perhaps?”

  “We’re our own coven,” said Jing. She paused, took a step toward the shadows.

  “Please stop that. I’m not so fond of light,” said the voice. “Now. Your own coven, you say? I like that. Fresh scapegracers, making their own little band. Doesn’t happen much anymore.”

  I swallowed, gawked at the darkness. “What are you?”

  “Me? Oh, I’m Mr. Scratch. Nothing for you to frighten yourself over. Why, if anything, I’m your friend. I’m in your debt. Mosey along, now. The folks downstairs might have some feelings if they catch you up here, but I think you’ll be fine if you leave here now. That boy might not even tattle on you, now that he’s got me to worry about. I’m more important, I’m afraid. Hurry along now, baby coven. Go seek your happiness somewhere safe.”

  We sat in the car in silence.

  The lot was drenched with nighttime, but the clock in the car said that it was only nine. Rusty leaves plastered themselves across the windshield. The wind howled like a pack of dogs. The heater hummed, but it wasn’t quite working yet, so the cold air swirled around without warming us.

  After an eternity, Jing spoke. She raked her nails down the back of her neck. “What the fuck is Mr. Scratch?”

  “Sounds like something out of a kid’s cartoon. A seriously fucked-up kid’s cartoon.” I put my knees up on the seat in front of me. “I’ll try to find something on it in volume two. I don’t know. There’s gotta be something on it somewhere. I’ll google it, if all else fails.”