“Wait, the demon’s shop?” asked Susie. “Demons run small businesses now? What’s next, a demonic lemonade stand?”
Roz laughed, and the sound hushed the whispers.
Harvey grinned at Susie and then redirected his grin encouragingly Roz’s way.
“Roll with the weird, Sooz,” said Harvey. “I’m learning to. Roz? Does this feel … as if you’re trapped in a dream?”
“No,” said Roz. “I don’t get trapped in dreams.”
That gave her an idea. She saw terrible sights in dreams, felt awful foreboding, but she wasn’t trapped. She didn’t want to be trapped now. Maybe this bright clear path before her was a trap.
Roz nodded slowly. “You’re right, guys,” she said. “Thanks for coming for me.”
Harvey stepped back, putting his hands in his pockets. “Anytime,” he mumbled. “Always.”
“What do you want to do?” Susie asked, the light of battle in her eyes.
Harvey was a head and a half taller than Susie, but Susie was the one who stood like a soldier. Their faces were dim in her vision, but somehow better than the bright path. Roz smiled for her friends.
“Sorry, but I think I have to rest.”
To sleep, perchance to dream.
She wouldn’t follow the whispers. She couldn’t follow her grandmother’s advice. Her grandmother was gone. Roz had to find her own way.
The cunning might show her how.
Harvey walked up the steps of his porch slowly. After they’d visited Roz, he and Susie had gone around Greendale. There were a lot of people on the streets in town this New Year’s Eve, moving like sleepwalkers, with the same slightly glazed look that had been in his father’s eyes yesterday.
Susie had gone to check on Mr. Putnam. Harvey didn’t know what to do except go home himself.
The moment Harvey came through his front door, he saw Nick leaning against the wall, reading his book.
“Oh, Nick,” said Harvey. “Here you are. In my house. Without me letting you in. It’s as if I just talk to myself about boundaries all day long.”
Nick looked up from the book. “I don’t like your shirt.”
“You’re not doing awesome on the boundaries front today at all.”
“I don’t think anyone else will like it either.”
“Stop insulting my clothes,” said Harvey. “I don’t talk about your hair.”
Nick scowled. “What about my hair?”
“I don’t talk about it,” said Harvey, walking toward the kitchen.
There was a light on in there. He was pretty sure he hadn’t left a light on in there. A redhead was sitting at the table, wearing a small sulky pout on her mauve-painted mouth. He definitely hadn’t left her in there.
Harvey turned around to face Nick, who was following him, and raised his eyebrows. “Friend of yours?”
“We used to date.”
Harvey sighed. “Of course you did.”
“Is it all right for her to be here?”
He thought of Roz’s stricken and confused face today, Susie scared by the darkness of the town, Nick dreaming awful dreams about Satan. If they were going to survive Greendale, they had to stick together. He was considering introducing Nick to Roz and Susie. His friends would like Nick. Maybe Harvey should be getting to know more witches.
“I … guess,” said Harvey. “I mean, sure. All my friends are girls.” He hesitated, thinking of Susie. “Well. Except one.”
Nick smiled. “Come meet her.”
There was something odd about Nick’s expressions today. Harvey couldn’t work it out, but it didn’t seem bad. Not like the way the people in town looked.
He didn’t know how to bring up the issue of an enchanted town in front of a stranger. He was awkward with strangers at the best of times.
He hovered near Nick, eyeing the girl apprehensively, and said: “Hey.”
The girl glanced up at Harvey. “I don’t like his shirt.”
Nick smirked. “I did tell you, farm boy.”
The girl didn’t seem thrilled to be here. Her hands were folded tight on the table. Harvey wondered why she’d come when she clearly hadn’t wanted to. Then she threw Nick a yearning look, so that answered that.
“This is Dorcas,” Nick continued.
“Dorkus?” Harvey repeated.
“Dorcas,” corrected the red-haired girl. She sniffed. “It’s an ancient and respectable witch name. Not that I’d expect you to know, w-witch-hunter.”
Her tiny stammer put her stiff shoulders and her pout in a different light. Harvey thought of what his dad had done to Nick yesterday, in this very room. Maybe this girl was frightened.
He went over to her, kneeling down by her chair. “There’s no need to be scared. I won’t hurt you.”
“Like you could,” Dorcas snapped, but her shoulders eased slightly.
He smiled encouragingly up at her. After a moment, she gave him a tiny smile in return.
“He’s cute,” she said in surprised tones. “If he lost the flannel and fixed his hair.”
She reached out, put her hands into Harvey’s hair, and drew it back from his brow, ruffling it about between her fingers.
Wow, witches really had no idea about boundaries.
Harvey tried to edge away. “You can talk to me as well as Nick. I’m right here.”
Dorcas seemed startled. “I’ve never really talked to a mortal who wasn’t ensorceled.” She paused. “I have slept with and tormented many of them. No witch-hunters, of course, but Nick swore you were harmless.”
“Did he?” said Harvey testily. He glanced at Nick, who was lounging in the kitchen entryway and being unhelpful.
“Yes,” said Dorcas, touching Harvey’s hair. “And he said we could have lasagna. Can we?”
Dorcas perked up as she asked. She was very handsy, but maybe she was trying to be friendly.
“Sure?” said Harvey. “I mean, at least you’re willing to stay for dinner, unlike Prudence.”
Dorcas’s smile immediately turned warm. “You know my sister?”
“Oh,” said Harvey, liking her more when he heard the affection in her voice. “Yeah. Well, Prudence force-fed me truth potion and threatened to kill me.”
Dorcas beamed. “That’s typical Prue.”
She seemed much happier. She took one hand out of Harvey’s hair, which was nice, then smoothed her palm down his chest, which was weird again.
“I am excited about lasagna,” she told him.
“Well, aren’t you two getting along swimmingly?” said Nick. “Great! Protect him, Dorcas. Don’t ensorcel him. Don’t do anything he doesn’t like. Later, Harry.”
“Wait, Nick, where are you going?” Harvey demanded in terror. “Don’t go!”
“Yeah, Nick,” Dorcas agreed in a purr. “Don’t go. Stay.” She rubbed Harvey’s shirt with what, horrifyingly, seemed to be approval. “I think you and I will get along, witch-hunter.”
Harvey had no idea why she would think that. He turned to Nick, who was still leaning in the doorway, hands in his pockets and smirking.
“Oh, hey,” Nick drawled. “Thanks for the thought, guys, but I have an important appointment elsewhere. There’s a prince of hell.”
“There’s a what?” Harvey demanded, staring at Nick and then looking toward Dorcas to see if she knew what Nick was talking about.
When he turned to Dorcas, she leaned forward. She was inches away when he realized she was going to kiss him. Harvey made a strangled sound and pulled back so fast he tipped over. Dorcas fell out of her chair.
“We’re on the floor.” Dorcas shrugged. “Well, okay.”
“Wait,” said Harvey. “Nick, are you trying to fix me up on a date?”
The two witches exchanged a look Harvey couldn’t interpret.
“She’s more a magical bodyguard,” said Nick. “But see where the night takes you.”
“Oh my God,” said Harvey. “I don’t want a bodyguard or a date!”
“I have asked you not
to call upon the false god so much,” Nick complained.
“I don’t mind,” Dorcas informed them. “Mortal boys say it all the time during certain situations.”
Nick was immediately intrigued. “Do they? He says it a lot, but I didn’t know it was a general thing.”
“Hey, nerd,” Harvey said accusingly. “Could you not be interested in mortal linguistics right now? I cannot believe you would do this! You are totally inappropriate and out of your mind.”
Dorcas shook her head, clearly wishing to dissociate herself from Harvey’s take on the situation.
“I think you’re totally gorgeous,” she told Nick. “And you should be out of your pants.”
She winked up at him. Nick, in what seemed to be pure reflex, winked back.
Harvey didn’t know why witches had no chill. “Look, Dorcas, I recently had a bad breakup and I’m not interested in dating you. Maybe we could just have lasagna and a conversation about the enchanted town and what we can do about it?”
He scrambled off the floor and to his feet, then offered Dorcas a hand up. She took it, and he helped her stand. She regarded their joined hands with a vaguely interested air.
“I’m sorry about this mess,” he told her. “It’s Nick’s fault.”
It was shocking and embarrassing, but it’d been a long few days with Nick Scratch and he was getting used to that. Harvey honestly didn’t blame Nick. He’d probably meant well. This was like when cats brought their owners mice and expected them to be pleased. From the cat’s point of view, it was a nice present. So from Nick’s point of view, having a witch protect Harvey and getting Harvey a date probably seemed like a win-win.
“Did I get something wrong again?” Nick sounded resigned at this point.
Harvey grinned. “Little bit, yeah.”
“Can we have lasagna soon?” Dorcas asked. “I don’t mind protecting him, I realize I owe the mortal, but I don’t want this night to be a total waste—”
“Wait,” said Harvey. “Why would you owe me anything? I don’t know you.”
She flapped an impatient hand. “Because of the spell I did that collapsed the mines.”
There was a silence. Harvey dropped the girl’s hand, as though her touch had burned him. There was a cold feeling in the center of his chest, where the darkness was concentrated.
“You killed my brother?” said Harvey quietly. “And you, Nick. You brought her here.”
He looked between them, the witch and the warlock. He’d thought of witches killing Tommy as older, distant and evil figures. This girl looked like a child, guilty because she’d been caught killing flies.
That was all mortals were, to the witches.
“She … wasn’t supposed to talk about that,” Nick murmured.
“Oh,” said Harvey. “That makes it okay, then?”
Nick said, “Wait.” He took his hands out of his pockets. Dorcas was edging over to him.
“I think we should ensorcel him immediately!” she suggested.
“Just another sick hilarious game with the mortal?” Harvey asked. “Tormenting them, enchanting them, murdering them. It’s all the same to you, isn’t it? Because you don’t think we’re people. God, I am so stupid. You’re all evil. My dad was right.”
His heart was thundering in his chest, darkness flickering at the edges of his vision. There were guns by the door, and he wanted to use them.
Nick’s lip curled back from his teeth. “Your father who tried to kill me? He was right?”
Dorcas said, “I don’t like this place. I want to leave.”
“Why does my dad trying to kill you matter?” asked Harvey slowly. “If it doesn’t matter that she killed my brother. Oh, right, you think that a witch’s life is worth more than a mortal’s.”
He advanced on them, toward the door and the guns. Dorcas backed away, whispering spells under her breath that buzzed in Harvey’s ears in a high insectile whine.
“You’d better run, you murderer,” he told her. “Or I will kill you.”
They reached the door. The witch turned and fled.
The warlock stayed.
“Calm down,” said Nick. “I could’ve set the entire Academy on your father for what he did, but I didn’t. I protected that disgusting worm, for you, so—”
“So what?” Harvey demanded. “I’m supposed to say thank you for not ripping my dad to pieces? Well, maybe I shouldn’t have stopped my father. I did it for him, so he wouldn’t be a murderer. It wasn’t for you. I hate you. I hate all witches.”
Oh, all but one.
I could never hate you, Sabrina.
The wild raging in his chest quieted. Harvey checked his reach for the gun.
There were red lights in Nick’s eyes. Red in their eyes and red on their hands, his dad had said, as if quoting from an old, old story. Satan-touched.
Satan seemed very close.
“You are trying my patience, mortal,” Nick snarled. “I’ve been very forbearing with you. I could tear you apart with a word.”
“You really don’t get it, do you? I know you can kill me. That’s the problem. Your people live by murder and magic. You might kill us at any moment.” Harvey paused, breathing hard. Darkness almost obscured his vision. “Unless we kill you first.”
Nick laughed a wild witch laugh, the kind that had kept Harvey’s father awake with terror for years.
“You think I’m scared of you, witch-hunter?”
Harvey picked up the gun. He stood, holding its cold weight in his hands, and said: “Maybe you should be.”
No, said something that wasn’t the storm and the rising dark, said his longing for some kindness in the world. No, that’s not you. That was never who you wanted to be.
Harvey swallowed and lowered the gun. Nick’s eyes registered the movement, and the fury in his face flickered.
“Mortal, you’re under an enchantment,” said Nick, the snarl tightly leashed in his voice. “The whole town is. So I’ll overlook this.”
“Just … get out.” Harvey spoke with difficulty. “Don’t ever come back.”
Nick disappeared into the night. Harvey put down the gun and sank onto the floor, his head in his hands.
It seemed as if there was no help to be found in the world.
“The spell’s affecting my father?” Prudence demanded. “Are you certain?”
Sabrina’s small face was pale under the hairband as she nodded. “I mean, I know he’s generally awful, but I’m sure. It’s the second day, when the witches succumb to hate. Are you feeling … any different?”
Prudence wanted to snap back no, but this was too serious to deceive herself. She remembered Nick tearing apart Plutonius Pan. She’d barely looked in on Judas, and before the last couple of days she’d checked on him all the time.
They were witches, children of storms and bloodshed. It was hard to tell if more hate had been added to the ocean in her. And yet … and yet …
She didn’t say no.
Instead, she said: “I can keep it together.”
Being violently miserable happened. She wasn’t going to let any stupid curse or prince of hell tell her what to do. There was already her father and Satan. No other man should dare try to control her.
“When the membrane between the worlds is weakest, at the point where two elements can be crossed, the prince can step through,” Sabrina quoted. “My aunt Zelda told me that mortal belief made the membrane between the worlds weak. At the turn of the mortal year. It’s New Year’s Eve now. We have to stop Pruflas from coming.”
Prudence wished Zelda were here. But she didn’t want Zelda to be disappointed in her, either.
“We can’t win,” Prudence said. “We need more than a name to stop a prince of hell. We don’t know what to do.”
Sabrina set her jaw. “I’ll think of something. Where is Nick?”
Nick said, “I’m here. I was in town checking on your mortals. Your mortal friend Roz is in her house, as far as I can tell.”
Sabrina
and Prudence whirled around. Nick was standing in the doorway of the library. He had an air that suggested the wrath of witches had come to him. He moved restlessly, sparks seeming to travel under his skin, as though there was hellfire burning in his blood.
“And I have an idea,” he added, controlling his voice with a visible effort. “The point where two elements meet and can be crossed. A bridge.”
“Let’s go,” Sabrina said instantly.
She charged forward, but as she passed Nick she stopped, caught by a sudden thought.
“Wait. How is Harvey? Is he safe?”
“You know what, Sabrina?” Nick bit out. “I really don’t care. I’m sick of even hearing his name.”
Sabrina looked hurt, but after a moment’s pause, she resumed her charge. Nick followed her.
“Finally, the man talks sense,” murmured Prudence.
She ran after them into the gathering night and chaos.
Roz’s head was whirling with strange dreams. Her cunning that saw the future, and the whispers of hate, seemed to combine in her mind. They made such an overwhelming din that her head felt as though it was splitting. Even her mind’s eye could not see clearly any longer.
Sabrina kept calling, and Roz kept not picking up.
For now we see through a glass darkly, her father had said in a sermon once, his voice booming from the pulpit. It was one of the times when what he said caught on a hook in Roz’s heart and stayed. Now I know in part, but then shall I know.
Roz woke from another dream with flames dancing in front of her eyes and wished she knew what to do. She knew witches were taking the light of the world from her, and she knew her best friend was a witch. She felt like she only had broken parts of knowledge that she couldn’t fit together.
There were whispers in her head about stopping the witches, and she did want them stopped.
But Sabrina was a witch. When she’d told Roz what she was, Roz held her and promised herself it wouldn’t change anything.
Sabrina had given her a bracelet when they were small, when she asked Roz to be her best friend. A friendship bracelet, twined with tiny flowers.
Daughter of Chaos Page 24