Shadow Witch: Book Four of the Wizard Born Series

by Geof Johnson

  I wish I had drowned in the river instead. Anything would be better than the fate that awaited her if Mr. Gundy succeeded in getting her through the doorway back to Earth, and there was a good chance that he would. She felt sure that no one knew he’d kidnapped her, and no one knew where she was. And if they did, they couldn’t stop him because he had a knife.

  He’ll kill me if they won’t let him take me back. Back to the life of misery that she’d had before, only worse without Mrs. Gundy to blunt his cruelty and abuse.

  Sammi remembered floating in the rain-swollen river, staring at the sky and thinking of her mother. Yes, drowning. That would’ve been better. Anything but this.

  She grunted in pain as he yanked on her hair again, and she stumbled on through the woods.

  Rachel’s legs ached and she had a cramp in her side from running, but she still pushed herself onward, down every side street, looking into every shop she passed. None of the proprietors had seen anything unusual, nor had any of the pedestrians she stopped and asked. The children ran, too, and she sometimes saw them popping in and out of buildings near her, frantic looks on their small faces.

  Now she panted as she hurried through the press of pedestrians and carriages toward Brinna’s shop, where she saw Carl standing out front with his arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd.

  “Any word?” she asked when she reached him, leaning over and resting her hands on her knees while she tried to catch her breath.

  “Not yet, but Brinna said they haven’t been back here, so that means Gundy and Sammi are still around somewhere. We just have to find them.”

  “Have you seen Jamie?”

  “He flew by a few minutes ago, and then took off again to search the river road. He said he’ll check back soon.”

  “Carl, what if we don’t find her?”

  “We will. Think positively.”

  But that was hard, right then. Rachel could only imagine the worst — Gundy had somehow made it through to Earth already, or worse, had molested and killed Sammi.

  Sammi! Oh, you sweet little girl. I hope you’re all right.

  A few of the schoolchildren began to arrive in groups of two, but no one had seen any trace of Sammi. Rachel felt their chances of success slipping away, one negative report at a time.

  Milly raced up with Leora from the other direction. When they reached Rachel and Carl, they pointed behind them and Milly said in between gasping breaths, “We think we found them...back that way...behind those buildings, by the town wall. We saw them hiding behind some bushes near the west gate.”

  Carl took off in a full sprint without waiting for Rachel or the others. She ran after him as fast as she could, and the children followed.

  Rachel’s heart was pounding as she raced around the last building, searching for Carl. She found him just ahead, in an open area behind the row of shops. His back was to her and he was bent over, laying his pistol on the ground. Then he slowly stood and held his hands up. “I’ve set the gun down, Mr. Gundy. You can put away your knife now.”

  She slowed to a stop when she reached Carl and she said, “What is it?”

  He gestured with one hand and said, “Gundy’s over there, about thirty yards away, by the wall with Sammi, and he’s got a knife. He’s threatening to kill her if we don’t back off.”

  “That’s right,” a creepy, unfamiliar voice came from the direction Carl was facing.

  A chill ran down her spine at the sound of those awful words.

  It’s really happening. Any hope that there was another explanation for Sammi’s disappearance had been dashed by the dreadful reality they now faced — Sammi was in the grasp of Duane Gundy, and she was in terrible danger. “Please don’t hurt her,” Rachel called to him.

  “Y’all get out of our way and let us into that store, and I won’t.”

  Rachel leaned close to Carl and lowered her voice. “Maybe I can stun him with my Stupefyin’ pendant.” She reached for it but it wasn’t there. She groaned and said, “I gave it to my mom. Maybe one of the kids can run back and get it.”

  “We don’t have that much time. Gundy wants to go now.”

  Rachel could see him with Sammi, behind some bushes near the high brick wall that circled the town. Sammi’s back was pulled tight against his body and she was crying. Rachel couldn’t get a clear view of Mr. Gundy, but from what little she could see, she could tell that he looked different, his hair dyed blond and his face clean-shaven.

  “What can we do, Carl?” Rachel asked.

  “We do what he says, for now.”

  Rachel stood with Carl and watched helplessly, and some of the school kids began to arrive and they gathered behind her. They seemed to sense the severity of the situation and talked in lowered voices.

  “Mrs. Sikes?” Blane said, but Milly shushed him quickly. Rachel gave him barely a glance before turning back to face Sammi and Mr. Gundy.

  We’ve got to do something!

  But Carl was watching and waiting, and she knew that she should, too, though every nerve in her body was screaming at her to take action.

  Rachel turned around when she heard the clatter of horse’s hooves in the distance, and she saw Momma Sue and Mrs. Malley driving their wagon toward them at a furious pace.

  There was a blur in the sky, streaking in her direction like a missile, and Jamie flew down and landed nearby with a couple of staggering steps. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Carl quickly filled him in and Jamie’s face grew angry and determined. “I’ll deal with him,” Jamie said and started toward Gundy and Sammi.

  “Step back or I’ll kill her!” Gundy said.

  Jamie paused and Rachel said, “Jamie, don’t. Sammi could get hurt.”

  “But we can’t just stand by and do nothing!”

  Carl gestured gently with one hand and lowered his voice. “Sammi’s still alive. That’s the most important thing. Even if he gets her through the portal back to Hendersonville, John Paul will be there at his house to hold him up, and then we can bring in a hostage negotiator and maybe end this without any bloodshed.”

  “Maybe?” Rachel said. “This is Sammi we’re talking about. Maybe isn’t good enough!”

  “Doing something rash isn’t either,” Carl replied.

  “Jamie?” Rachel said. “Can’t you do something?”

  “I can’t see the knife so I can’t do anything about that.” He squinted in Gundy’s direction and leaned sideways to get a better view of him through the bushes. “If I could get a clear look at Gundy’s face, I could cut off his air supply like I did to those bank robbers when I was a kid.”

  “If,” Carl said. “If doesn’t cut it when you’re dealing with a murderer. Don’t forget that he killed his wife. He might kill Sammi, too.”

  Jamie ran one hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “Well...I can’t get behind him because of the wall, but maybe I can make myself invisible and sneak up on him or something. Or translocate back to the school and get the Stupefyin’ pendant from Gramma.”

  Sammi grunted painfully and Gundy said, “I can hear you, you know. You do anything funny and I’ll cut her guts out right now.”

  Rachel, Carl, and Jamie stared at each other wordlessly while the buzz from the children behind them grew louder. Then Rachel heard Momma Sue’s firm, raspy voice. “Let me handle this,” the voodoo queen said authoritatively.

  Rachel watched the old witch push through the crowd of school kids while Mrs. Malley followed her. Momma Sue’s face was rock-hard and her black-marble eyes were narrow and menacing. “Sammi’s one of my witches,” she growled. “Nobody messes with my witches and gets away with it.”

  “Our witches, Sue,” Mrs. Malley said. “She’s one of our witches.”

  “Right. Our witches.” Momma Sue walked purposefully forward and Mr. Gundy yanked on Sammi’s hair again and she cried out as her head jerked back.

  “Stop right there or I’ll kill her now,” Gundy said.

  Momma Sue ignored him as
she strode past Rachel toward Gundy and Sammi.

  “You think I’m kidding?” Gundy’s voice became shrill. “Tell her, Sammi. Tell her I ain’t.” Sammi moaned but didn’t answer.

  Gundy turned slightly, and through the bushes Rachel saw the glint of the steel blade at Sammi’s side. A red spot of blood stained her yellow T-shirt. Rachel sucked in her breath sharply. He’s really going to do it. Rachel took a step and said, “Momma Sue! Stop!”

  A firm hand gripped Rachel’s forearm, and she turned to see Mrs. Malley beside her. The old woman shook her head. “Leave her be, Rachel. She knows what she’s doing.”

  Momma Sue steadily closed the gap and panic flared in Gundy’s eyes, but a look of hope seemed to fill Sammi’s, even though she grimaced in pain from the knife in her ribs.

  “I mean it!” Gundy shouted. “Turn around right now or I’ll stick this knife all the way in her.”

  “I think not,” Momma Sue said without slowing. She extended her arm toward him and curved the fingers of her hand cruelly, as if she were going to wrench out his soul and squeeze it to dust.

  “Stop, dammit! I’ll kill her. I swear I will. I’ll—” Then his voice turned to a gurgle and he staggered with one hand at his throat. His face grew red and his eyes bulged for a moment, then they rolled up into his head and he collapsed into an unconscious heap, the switchblade falling to the ground from his limp fingers. Rachel stared with her mouth open.

  The world was silent.

  But not for long. Shouts of relief and joy erupted from the crowd as Sammi bolted away from Mr. Gundy, straight to Momma Sue, who knelt and took her in her arms. Sammi sobbed loudly and Rachel felt a huge surge of relief. “Thank God,” she said.

  Momma Sue said something into Sammi’s ear and Sammi nodded.Then Momma Sue let her go and Sammi ran to Rachel, who swept her up and squeezed her tightly.

  Nothing had ever felt better than the fierce hug Sammi gave her, skinny arms wrapped around Rachel’s neck and her legs around Rachel’s waist. Rachel held her like that for a long while before saying, “Are you all right, Sammi?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Sammi said into Rachel’s shoulder and sighed deeply. Rachel patted her back and kissed her on the cheek.

  “What are we gonna do about him?” Jamie asked, standing next to the unconscious body of Duane Gundy. “He knows about the magic now, and about Rivershire and the doorways. I guess I’ll have to banish him to that world where I sent Rita and Cassandra.”

  “No,” Carl said firmly. “He’s got to stand trial for the murder of his wife.”

  “But he could ruin everything.”

  “I think I can do something about that,” Mrs. Malley said. “Jamie, can you make a doorway for me back to my house?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Jamie drew the outlines and pushed it open. Mrs. Malley went through, and returned a minute later with two small bottles in one hand.

  She pulled a cloth bag from her dress pocket and handed it to Momma Sue. “If you will put this healing powder on Sammi’s wound, I shall see to Mr. Gundy.”

  Mrs. Malley knelt beside Gundy and unstoppered one of the small glass containers. Then she pulled down his bottom lip with her finger and poured a few drops from the bottle into his mouth.

  “What does that do?” Jamie asked.

  “It’s a forget potion. He won’t remember a thing from the last few days.” She opened the other bottle, pulled down his lip again, and poured more drops into his mouth. She stood and faced Jamie. “That other one is a truth potion.”

  “Won’t that wear off eventually?”

  “Not this potion. It shall last his lifetime. He can never tell a lie again, ever.”

  “Good thinking, Mrs. Malley.” Carl grinned. “That’ll make it convenient when we question him at the police station.”

  “What do you want to do with him now, Dad?” Jamie asked.

  “Make another doorway back to John Paul’s house. He’s already there with a patrol car. Then we can take Gundy to jail.”

  What a wonderful sound! Rachel thought. Take Gundy to jail. She made a silent prayer: And please lock him away forever.

  * * *

  Sammi yawned and pulled the sheet up to her chin, then smiled at Mrs. Callahan, sitting in the chair beside the bed.

  “You look tired, little girl.” Mrs. Callahan closed the book she’d been reading aloud. “I think that’s enough of The Boxcar Children for tonight.”

  “I can stay awake. Honest.”

  “You need to go to sleep. You must be worn out. It’s not every day that you get abducted by a psychotic killer.” She frowned. “And get stabbed.” She pointed at Sammi’s side. “How’s that feel?”

  “It doesn’t hurt at all. There’s not even a mark there. Mrs. Malley’s healing powder really did the trick.”

  “Sammi, I am so sorry that you had to go through that. It pains me terribly to think about it.”

  “It’s okay. I was more scared than anything. Mr. Gundy only stuck his knife ina little bit.”

  Mrs. Callahan closed her eyes and moaned, “Oh, I hate that man.”

  “Do you think he’ll ever get out of jail and try to get me again?”

  “No. Carl said that Mr. Gundy confessed to everything, even some crimes that nobody knew about. He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison.”

  Sammi yawned again and Mrs. Callahan said, “Okay, you definitely need to go to sleep. But before I leave, we need to talk about tomorrow. You don’t have to go to the school in Rivershire if you don’t want to, now that Mr. Gundy’s behind bars. Mrs. Wallace said she’d stay here with you. She can’t stay with you Friday because she’s going to court with Mrs. Tully.”

  “I wanna go to school and see my friends.”

  “That’s fine. I just thought you might be tired of going there.”

  “I can’t go there much longer ’cause school’s gonna start here, and I won’t get to see all my friends anymore.”

  “I talked to Jamie about that. He said he won’t mind making a doorway for you once in a while to go visit them if you want. Not every weekend, because he’ll be busy with college stuff and cross country or whatever.”

  “Can he make one this weekend? Can Leora spend the night?”

  “Uh...we’ll see. We’ll have to talk to her mom.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Jamie also said he can make a permanent mini-portal for us, like a mail slot, from some secret spot in our house to the Rivershire School. Then you and those kids can write letters to each other.”

  “Unh hunh. Some of them can write a lot better now.”

  “Rachel likes the mail slot idea because it’ll be a good way for the Rivershire kids to practice their writing, and you can stay in touch.”

  “Can I call them? They have a phone in the office.”

  “You’ll be in school here during the day. You won’t be able to.”

  “I could get a cell phone.” She grinned optimistically.

  “Uh...no. Not yet. You can write to them and visitoccasionally. That will be nice, won’t it?” She stood to leave, but paused at the door. “Do you need Fred to sleep with you tonight?”

  “Only if she wants to. I’m not scared anymore.”

  “I’ll talk to her. I bet she will.”

  Mrs. Callahan turned off the light and left, and Sammi thought, I bet she will, too.

  Chapter 29

  Evelyn stood in a beautifully paneled room in the Rivershire courthouse. Standing with her were Mrs. Tully, Fred, and Nova. Far to their right was a well-dressed middle-aged couple, Mr. and Mrs. Beasley.

  They all faced the judge, who sat behind a polished wooden desk, reading a document. Behind him was a guard in a blue uniform.

  The judge put down the paper in his hand and looked up at the other couple. “These are quite tenuous claims of kinship you’re making, Mr. and Mrs. Beasley. You assert that this boy, Aiven, is a third or fourth cousin, but that is not clear to me from reading this.”

  “But it is so, Your Honor,” the short man in t
he tailored black clothes said. “And it is a closer relationship than Mrs. Tully can claim, for she has none.”

  The judge looked at Mrs. Tully and her face grew tight, but she didn’t respond. Then the judge turned back to Mr. Beasley and said, “If we had a way to prove the veracity of your claim, this would be simple.”

  “It is all true, Your Honor, every word.” Mr. Beasley pointed at the paper on the desk. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”

  Nova shook her head to indicate that the man was lying. Evelyn took one step forward and said, “Your Honor, if I may? I know of a way to settle this matter once and for all, quickly.” The judge raised his bushy gray eyebrows and gestured for her to continue. “We can use a truth potion. A temporary one”

  “A truth potion?” Mr. Beasley sputtered, his expression turning indignant. “That is preposterous.”

  The judge held up one hand to silence him and looked at Evelyn. “You have such a potion?”

  “Fred brought one with her.”

  “Which one is Fred? The red-haired young lady?” He eyed Fred closely. “You must be the new witch I have been hearing so much about lately.”

  “I am a witch,” Fred said, “and I learned how to make this potion from Mrs. Malley.”

  “Mrs. Malley.” The judge leaned one elbow on the armrest of his chair and put the tip of his finger on his chin. “She is a fine witch. My wife has purchased a few potions from her.” Then he nodded. “I think this is a reasonable request.”

  “Why should I be the one to take the potion?” Mr. Beasley said. “That is not fair.”

  “I will be willing to take it, also,” Mrs. Tully said. “If fairness is an issue.”

  “Fine,” the judge said, and Mr. and Mrs. Beasley frowned deeply. The judge looked at Fred and narrowed one eye. “How would they take this potion?”

  “The easiest way is to put it in some water and drink it.”

  The judge turned to the guard behind him. “See if you can fetch us a couple of glasses of water, if you please.”