Chasing Power

by Sarah Beth Durst

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the gap. Careful not to touch the sides, she inched forward. The neighbor had a fence on his property. If she could reach the fence and climb over it … She took another step, and her foot crossed over the roots.

  Sickness slammed into her, fast, and she retreated.

  She hadn’t destroyed the roots. The circle wasn’t completely broken. She dropped to her knees. The roots wove a thick mat between the bushes. Grabbing the trowel and pruners, she dug into the earth. She snipped the roots as she found them. She worked feverishly, as if the hedge would close again if she slowed.

  She’d never truly believed that Moonbeam’s magic worked. It wasn’t like hers, obvious and visual. All the charms against sickness, theft, bad luck, ill will … Until today, Kayla had rarely felt sick, but she might just have a decent immune system. They’d never been robbed, but they didn’t have much to begin with, especially compared to people like Selena. Bad luck? Ill will? She didn’t know. She wondered what else Moonbeam could do and how powerful she was. If she could craft a spell like this, why did they even have to hide from Dad?

  Maybe that’s what Moonbeam had thought before Dad killed Amanda. Maybe now she didn’t want to take any chances. Maybe Kayla was being stupid pursuing a confrontation and thinking she could handle it.

  But she could, damn it. She could fix this! Fix her life and Moonbeam’s and give them a future without fear! That was worth a little risk. She’d be careful and clever, like she always was. Dad may have been a match for a young innocent Amanda, but Kayla wasn’t a little girl.

  At last, Kayla had torn up all the roots she could find. It looked like a warthog had dug into their hedgerow. She stood up and dusted the dirt off her clothes. Time to try again. She strode forward—and again the nausea crashed into her.

  Stumbling back, she dropped to her knees. She stayed on her knees until the vertigo stopped. Okay, so the spell wasn’t tied to the plants. There had to be some way she was triggering it. Maybe it was her? Something was tying her to the house? She thought of the voodoo doll that her mother had dipped in the herbs. Maybe that had been part of the spell, not just part of the cleanup as she’d assumed. Where was the doll? Kayla jumped to her feet.

  “Kayla?” Moonbeam called from the gate.

  Oh, no, she’s home! Kayla glanced at the chopped-up dirt, the mess of leaves, and the broken roots that looked like severed bones. She couldn’t hide this carnage. Putting down the pruners, she met her mother at the gate.

  Carrying a bag of burritos, Moonbeam smiled sunnily at her. “Arranged to take the rest of the day off! Got extra guacamole, the kind you like. Also, chips and salsa …” Her smile faded. “Kayla, what did you do?”

  “Yard work?”

  “You’re terrible at it,” Moonbeam commented.

  “I won’t do it again.”

  Moonbeam studied her for a second. In an even voice, she said, “Trying to escape isn’t the best way to rebuild trust.”

  “Imprisoning me isn’t the best way to be a mother.”

  “It’s for your own good,” Moonbeam said. “I can’t send you to the corner for a time-out.” She sighed and then headed for the house. Kayla trailed behind her. It took all her self-restraint not to scream at her mother to let her go! Right now, Daniel was jumping across South America with no one there to make sure he didn’t fall off a cliff or drown himself in a piranha-infested river or pass out from exhaustion in the middle of a road.

  In the kitchen, Moonbeam unloaded the burritos, paper plates, and plastic forks and knives. Kayla stowed her emergency backpack under her futon—it looked like she wasn’t going anywhere today—and then returned to help Moonbeam set the table. Moonbeam nodded at a bag by the door. “I stopped by the library also and picked up some books and movies for you. See, I’m not an ogre. When you’re older, you’ll thank me for setting boundaries.”

  “How did you do it?” Kayla asked.

  “Eye of newt, tongue of frog, and a little bit of pixie dust.” Moonbeam mimed catching a pixie and shaking it like a bell.

  If she’d wanted to make Kayla laugh, she’d picked the wrong day. “This isn’t funny. I can’t stay here!”

  Moonbeam sighed. “This isn’t open to discussion anymore, not unless you’ve decided to be honest with me. And even then, the punishment stands. You have to learn that there are consequences to your actions and decisions before they are so dire that they lead to tragedy.”

  She was talking about Amanda again. Glancing at the shelves, Kayla spotted the basket with the voodoo doll. She looked away quickly so her mother wouldn’t notice. “I didn’t even know you had this kind of power. For someone who hates magic, you’re very good at it.”

  Moonbeam unwrapped her burrito. “When I was your age, I did more than dabble. It got me into quite a bit of trouble. Magic isn’t the solution; it’s the problem. Always.”

  Kayla thought of the stones. “What happened?”

  “When?”

  “When you dabbled.”

  A faint smile crossed her lips. “Once, I tried a love spell. The results were like a bad Shakespeare play.”

  “Did everyone die?”

  “Comedy, not tragedy! Lots of mistaken identity and flowery poetry.” Her smile faded. “But there were other times when people were hurt. Not killed. We always stopped short of that. All of us swore to never cross that line.”

  Kayla slid onto one of the stools. “Who’s ‘all of us’?” She thought she knew—the photo was in her pocket.

  Jumping off her stool, Moonbeam bustled to the cabinets. She pulled out additional spices, and she filled up two cups with water. “People from my past. Point is, I don’t use spells to make things happen anymore. I use spells to keep things from happening—to keep you safe.” Reaching over, she touched the eye amulet around Kayla’s neck.

  Kayla had the sudden urge to tear the necklace off, but she kept her hands clasped calmly in front of her. “My father. Is that who you did spells with?”

  “I said it was the past, Kayla. I don’t want to talk about it.” Moonbeam’s lips curved into a cheerful smile, clearly forced. “Come, it’s movie night! We’ll eat in front of the TV. Pick out a movie.”

  Wishing she dared ask more, Kayla shuffled over to the library bag and made a show of sorting through. There was an assortment of old favorites plus a few newer titles. Kayla had never been less in the mood for a movie. “Whatever you want.”

  Moonbeam chose The Princess Bride, a movie they both had memorized. She fetched the quilts she’d made herself and then thumped the TV until it worked. After setting their dinner on the coffee table, she curled up on the couch next to Kayla.

  Kayla pretended to laugh in all the right places, all the while thinking about Daniel and wondering what he’d found. And whether her father had found him. She picked at her burrito and, later, when Moonbeam made popcorn on the stove with copious amounts of real butter, the popcorn tasted like cardboard in her mouth.

  At night, she listened to Moonbeam breathe and barely slept.

  Moonbeam left for work the next morning a little before ten. She kissed Kayla on the cheek and promised to cook her favorite fried tofu for dinner. Kayla dredged up a smile and made a show of selecting a book to read. As soon as Moonbeam was gone, Kayla sprinted for the shelves. She grabbed the basket that she’d seen Moonbeam with yesterday, and she pulled out the voodoo doll.

  Hands shaking, she carried it to the sink. She dropped it in and pulled out her lighter. She flicked on the flame—and then flicked it off. This might be a very, very bad idea. For all she knew, if she set it on fire, she could spontaneously combust in reaction. She needed a safe way to neutralize the doll.

  Luckily, she did know an expert.

  Pulling out her phone, she found the number for Queen Marguerite’s store and dialed it. An older woman with a thick Louisiana accent answered. “Voodoo Spells and Charms. Queen Marguerite, blessed be, at your service.”

  Thank goodness she was there.
“Your Majesty, this is Kayla … from the other day? You know, the one who helped you clean your shop? And the one you saved from the snake bite?”

  “Ahh, the fixer. Yes, of course, my dear, I remember you. What can I do for you? Have you plucked out the evil in your family’s heart?”

  “Um, not yet. But I have a little problem … I need to know how to disable a voodoo doll.” She cradled the doll in one hand as she held the phone with the other.

  “Voodoo dolls are much misunderstood. They’re used for good intentions, not bad. For protection, not harm! Hollywood has misrepresented my religion—”

  Kayla interrupted. “My mother dipped it in herbs and said words over it, and now I can’t leave without becoming incredibly sick.”

  There was silence on the other end. At last, Marguerite said, “Your mother did this?” She had an odd note in her voice. Almost … hopeful.

  “She’s worried about me,” Kayla said. “I can’t … I haven’t told her what I’ve been doing. She wouldn’t understand. She thinks using magic is evil.”

  “Yet she used it to confine you?”

  “Yeah, believe me, I noticed the irony.”

  There was silence, as if Marguerite was thinking or distracted, and then she said briskly, “You cannot destroy the doll. Not without harm to yourself.”

  Kayla felt her heart sink. She stared out the window at the hedges around the garden. She imagined never seeing beyond them. “There has to be a way. I have to escape. We … we found one of the stones, but the kidnapper took it from us.” She couldn’t bring herself to say it was her father. “We only have one chance left.”

  She braced herself for anger, but Queen Marguerite only said, “Then this time, you must not fail. And then you must retrieve two stones from your enemy. If they complete the spell … you won’t like the consequences.”

  “I can’t do any of that trapped here. How do I break the spell?”

  “One who knows the spell can negate it.”

  “I don’t think my mom’s in the mood.” Out the window, she saw Daniel appear. His legs were caked in mud from the knee down, but he seemed okay. He waved to her, and she waved back. “Do you know the spell?”

  “As it happens, yes, I do. But I cannot break it over the phone. It must be in person. Bah, I hate house calls. For you, little fixer, I will make an exception … on one condition.”

  Kayla stopped herself from saying “anything.” “What condition?”

  “Bring the stones to me.”

  “Why? What do you want with them?”

  “I want to hide them. Even alone, they cause too much damage. I want to ensure all three stones are hidden so well that no one will ever find any of them again.”

  “Works for me. So long as Daniel’s reunited with his mother and my dad’s safely behind bars first.” Kayla rushed outside. “Daniel? Are you okay?”

  “Send the boy to me. I can’t jump to a place I’ve never seen.”

  “Can you jump to Louisiana?” Kayla asked Daniel. She waved the phone in the air. “I need Queen Marguerite. She can break the spell.”

  Without a word, he vanished.

  Into the phone, Kayla said, “Daniel’s coming for you.”

  “Ah, yes. Hello, Daniel.”

  Kayla heard the phone click off. Retrieving the voodoo doll, she paced back and forth in the garden. She had second thoughts. And third thoughts. And fourth. She’d had it drilled into her again and again: don’t trust anyone. She didn’t know Queen Marguerite, not really, though the woman had saved her life. And Queen Marguerite knew too much, including Daniel’s mother.

  Before she could truly reconsider, Daniel returned—with the voodoo queen.

  Cane in front of her, back ramrod straight, and eyes narrowed, Queen Marguerite surveyed the garden. Her cane was black and curved, with a silver skull at the top. She caressed the top of the skull as her piercing eyes swept over the hedges, the bench, the gnomes, and at last Kayla.

  “So, can you help her?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes,” Queen Marguerite said decisively. “And I will.” She reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a white cloth and a plastic pouch with white sand in it. “The doll, please.”

  Kayla hesitated for a moment—if her mother could trap her with this doll, then what could a real voodoo queen do? She reminded herself that Queen Marguerite was on her side and that she had little choice but to trust her, if she wanted to escape. She handed over the voodoo doll. Queen Marguerite wrapped the doll in the white cloth.

  “Stand still.” Marguerite opened the pouch and began to pour the sand in a circle around Kayla.

  “What is this?” Kayla asked.

  “One of nature’s greatest neutralizers. Salt. It can help end an open-ended compulsion like this or stop an unfinished spell.” Halting, Queen Marguerite looked at the salt critically. “It needs to be a solid circle.”

  Kayla shifted a few grains of salt with her mind, filling in fissures in the circle. She then checked all the way around. “I think it’s good.”

  “You’ll excuse me if I dispense with the sideshow fanfare and usual light show. Real magic comes from the mind, not the paraphernalia. They merely facilitate. Also, they make people tip more.”

  “My mother says the same thing,” Kayla said.

  “She does?” Marguerite seemed startled.

  “Half the charms here aren’t real.” Kayla waved at the charms on the hedge, over the gate, and in the window. “They’re for show.”

  “Well, then,” Marguerite said softly. “Well, then, indeed.” She surveyed the various charms, the garden gnomes, and the ceramic fairies. “Your mother and I have much in common. Regardless, best get you on your way.” Carrying the doll, the voodoo queen walked in a steady circle counterclockwise around Kayla, muttering in the sonorous tone that Moonbeam used for her spells. The words spun around Kayla, through her head and around her skin, leaving no impression on either. “There, that should work.” To Daniel, Marguerite said, “Don’t break the circle. When you’re ready, reach over it, touch her hand, and go. Once she’s away, the compulsion will end, and she will be able to come and go freely without any side effects.” To Kayla, she added, “And no one, not your mother, not anyone, will be able to use this doll against you—or for you—again.”

  “Thank you,” Kayla said.

  “Don’t thank me. Just find the third stone,” Queen Marguerite said. “And the next time I come, have your mother bake some of her brownies. That will be payment enough.”

  Kayla, who had been reaching for Daniel, dropped her hand. She felt cold in the pit of her stomach. “How do you know my mother?”

  Queen Marguerite smiled. “Wrong question. Someday you have to ask her how she knows me. After all, who do you think taught her this spell?” And then she vanished.

  Kayla looked at Daniel. She had the horrible feeling that she’d made a terrible mistake. Now the voodoo queen had seen where she lived; she could come anytime. She wanted to call Moonbeam, confess it all. “Catch your father, and that will fix everything,” Daniel said. “Your mother will be safe. And so will mine.” He held out his hand. Kayla took it. And the garden disappeared.

  Chapter 18

  Kayla and Daniel were on a road.

  The air felt thick and hot. The pavement was cracked, and heat rose off it in waves, as if it were the surface of a volcano. A signpost next to the road listed kilometers to Guadalajara. Focusing on it, she breathed in. And out. She didn’t feel sick.

  Daniel watched her. “Okay?”

  “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

  “You know your father could already be there.”

  “Or maybe he’s still in Peru. But if he is there …” She dug her hands into her pockets and felt the fishing line and hooks. “I distract him; you grab him.” If she sent the hooks into his skin, they’d hurt enough to surprise him, hopefully enough to keep him from casting any spells, and then she could use the line to tie him up or trip him or at least slow him until
Daniel reached him. It was a simple plan, but sometimes those worked the best. She just had to be quick and not freeze in abject terror when she saw him. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Ready when you are.”

  Another jump, and they were in front of a Catholic church on the outskirts of a town. Flies buzzed around them, and the air smelled like car exhaust. The road was dirt and had deep potholes in it, the kind that looked like they swallowed cars. Two pickup trucks were parked outside the church. One had a gun rack, and the other had a tarp covering its bed. She wondered if either of them was her father’s. She’d never thought about what kind of vehicle a murderer would drive. “Be alert,” she whispered.

  The lawn of the church was cut short and dotted with crab-grass. Fake flowers adorned a statue of the Virgin Mary beside the front double doors. Except for the two trucks, the place looked deserted. She didn’t see any movement at all. Even the wind was still.

  “So we just trespass?” she asked.

  “Pretend we’re tourists,” Daniel advised as he walked toward the doors of the church. “People forgive a lot if they think you’re an ignorant idiot with money to spend where they live.”

  “Sounds like the voice of experience.” Following him, she thought of all the photos in his bedroom. He’d seen so much of the world.

  “Use it all the time,” Daniel said. “Once, I jumped to the Roman Coliseum. Scared off about a billion cats and nearly was arrested, until they decided I was an idiot tourist.”

  “I want to see Rome someday.”

  “When this is over, I’ll take you,” Daniel offered. “I know this great gelato place by the Trevi Fountain, tourist prices but worth it. Best flavor in the world is niccolo. It’s hazelnut. Do you like ice cream?”

  “Everyone likes ice cream. Have you forgotten that I haven’t forgiven you?” As she walked toward the church doors, she continued to scan the area. If her father were here, would he be inside? Had he already been here?