Ivy looked at Spike. She needed to change Spike back into lizard form before something else happened. Or, before the Intelligence spell and whatever else Tara had done made matters worse.
A twig snapped somewhere around them, indicating something larger than a rabbit or field mouse was afoot. Bane and Devlin froze, listening. They exchanged a quick glance then continued on. Ivy wondered if it was just a deer or something... else. Like two murdering souls from a particular book.
“It’s nothing, right guys?” Ivy asked, hoping she was being silly and that nothing other than the five of them and maybe a raccoon lurked in the cloak of the forest. Ivy peered into the blackness, unable to see much except the skeletal branches of trees. Bane and Devlin came to a halt.
A dull ripping sound, similar to falling timber, broke the silence. Ahead, a medium-sized tree uprooted itself, scooted to its right about twenty yards and plunked itself down. The air suddenly smelled rich and musty as writhing tree roots burrowed back into the soil like oversized worms. The tree’s branches creaked as it bent forward, frantically smoothing the surrounding soil. Another tree busily tamped down the upturned earth its neighbor had vacated.
“Oh. Well, that explains it,” Raven said.
Ivy sighed, relieved it was just the stupid Trekking trees. “Knock it off, okay? We’re Kindred.”
The trees stopped their forest floor housekeeping and bowed. With a few final creaks and groans, they stood still. A lone root wriggled in the dirt.
“What was that?” Spike asked, clearly alarmed. “Trees can move?”
“Some of them,” Raven clarified. “Just Trekking Trees. They like to confuse hikers—get them lost. It’s sort of a game to them. Back when a lot of trees were harvested it also saved them from being chopped down and made into furniture.”
Ivy smiled. “My grandmother had a table made from one. Of course, she didn’t know what type of wood it was when she bought it at a garage sale. She had to get rid of it. The crazy thing kept darting across the house one too many times during dinner.”
“They can see, then?” Spike inquired, sounding equally horrified and intrigued.
“Yeah,” Raven said. “If you get close enough, you’ll notice the knots in the tree are really eyelids.”
Ivy turned to Spike. “Look, Spike. I’ve got to turn you back into a lizard now.”
“NO!” Spike yelled. He tugged hard on the vines binding him. Despite his best efforts, Spike was no match for Raven’s vampire strength.
“The note!” Spike said.
Ivy stopped to get the shoebox from her book bag. “I’ll read it when I change you. Once you’re safely tucked away.”
“But...but you won’t be able to,” Spike said. “These aren’t really store bought clothes. They’re charmed. Tara did it. You turn me and the clothes disappear. Maybe the note, too.”
Ivy considered this. “Very smart, Spike. Too smart.”
Spike stood tall with a triumphant grin on his face. “Well, thanks to you and the Intelligence spell you cast.” Spike tapped the side of his head. “That, and lizards have a high survival instinct. Besides, Tara told me how the spell worked.”
Ivy walked up to Spike, palm extended. “Fork over the note. If there really is a note.”
Spike grinned. “The man who handed it to me said he needs more time. I promised him I’d give you the note.” Spike cocked his head. “I lied.”
Ivy and Raven exchanged glances.
“Who are you talking about? He needs more time? For what?” Ivy asked.
Spike waggled a finger. “Not telling. You’ll turn me into a lizard.”
Ivy took the vine from Raven. “Fine. Raven, search his pockets.”
Raven shot Ivy an incredulous look. “No way!”
Ivy sighed. They really didn’t have time for this. “Since when did you get all modest?”
“Geez! He’s my brother’s pet lizard. That’s just a little too weird, even for me,” Raven replied.
“Besides,” Spike said. “The note isn’t in my pockets. It’s in my underwear.”
Bane let out a series of barks that sounded almost like a hyena.
Ivy slapped her palm to her forehead. Next time, she’d be more careful and pay attention to spell warnings. Spike might not be Einstein, but he had been under the Intelligence spell long enough to think this through, juvenile as it was.
“Wait,” Spike bargained. “Let me stay human for a little while longer and I’ll give you the note.” He scanned the area around him and frowned. “Hey, where are all the bugs?”
“It’s fall,” Ivy said, irritated. If it weren’t for bad luck, she wouldn’t have any luck at all. His underwear? “There aren’t many bugs out anymore, Spike. You got lucky with the moth. Nice snack, by the way. And when the next hard frost hits, there won’t be any bugs.”
Spike looked oddly nervous. “Moth? What moth? And I don’t eat bugs. Not anymore. Um, I was just curious about what happens to the bugs. You know, just filling the old noggin with more knowledge. Really? None?”
“Anyway,” Ivy huffed. “Maybe I’ll make you tell me without a deal.
Spike swallowed hard and diverted his attention to the surrounding woods and thick underbrush.
“Don’t even think about it, Spike,” she warned.
“She’ll zap you into next week,” Raven said.
“You wouldn’t. Gareth would be very upset,” Spike said.
“He’ll get over it when we get him another lizard. Something less scaly,” Raven replied, easily maneuvering over a large, recently fallen oak. There was just enough room between the trunk and a thick branch that partially propped the tree off the forest floor, allowing Bane and Devlin to crouch down and scoot underneath it.
Spike easily hoisted himself on top, and he offered Ivy his hand, helping her across. “I’m being reasonable,” he said. “Just for a few days. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you even more.”
He shuffled some leaves away from the fallen log. “Say, do you know if these woods are where Gareth used to find Tiger beetles to feed me? Um, I mean, did you know that they taste almost like sweet and sour chicken?”
Ivy’s stomach lurched. Tiger beetles? She’d never eat sweet and sour chicken again.
“Never mind me! Just spouting off odd facts. Still, it’s sad. Maybe I could catch all the bugs and save them from whatever is making them disappear.” He took a deep, steadying breath. “Anyway, about keeping me human in exchange for the note and some information. Deal?”
“And why would we believe you’d actually help? Why should we trust you?” Raven asked. “Is there a code of ethics among lizards?”
Spike frowned, considering her question. “Why should you trust me? That’s simple,” he said with a snort. “Because I’m betting Ivy won’t hurt me. She saved me from Dean back there. She has a conscious. That doesn’t take smarts to figure out, you know. That’s a lizard thing. Animals are better at studying their environment than humans. Humans talk. Animals observe. I want to be human for a while longer. Just until the end of the week. Then you can change me back. This is your fault, you know! Unless I can stay human until the end of the week, I’m not telling anyone anything! Besides, I’m the outcast here. Gimme a break.”
Unbelievable! Gareth’s pet was giving her a guilt trip. “I’m really starting to not like you.”
They emerged from the woods and back into the park. Without the chirp of the summertime crickets it was eerily quiet. Even the wind had long called it a night. Glistening dew sparkled the tips of the now dormant grass like miniature prisms.
Ivy glanced at her watch—two fifteen. Today was going to be hell.
“So,” Raven piped up. “Since you’ve been suckered by Catcher of the Flies here, what are you going to do with him?”
They’d reached Bane’s house and Bane ambled up the steps, head and ears hanging low from exhaustion.
Ivy shook her head. “Keep him in the guest bedroom, I suppose.”
“Interesting,” Rave
n said. “But, it’s your funeral when your mom finds out. Not that I’m turning into Shayde on you or anything. Just thought I’d throw that out there. Don’t get caught, okay? Takes the fun out of everything. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“It’s only until Saturday night,” Ivy replied with a yawn. Fatigue had taken a toll on her, because she distinctly heard herself say, “How hard can that be?”
CHAPTER 23
Ivy woke with a start, nearly flinging Devlin from the foot of the bed when her alarm went off at six the next morning. He grumbled and chose another spot to lie down.
Her muscles ached, protesting movement this early after only a few hours of sleep. Bringing Spike back hadn’t been easy.
Spike...
Ivy sat up in bed. “Oh, no! Devlin, tell me I didn’t really tell Spike he could stay in the guest bedroom.”
Devlin raised his head and looked in the direction of the hallway. He whined and scooted under the blanket.
She tossed the covers back and flew from the bed, practically tripping over the shoes and clothes she’d left haphazardly on the floor in her rush to get into bed. She wrenched her door open and shot down the hallway.
The guest bedroom door was closed, like always. But, her mother’s bedroom door stood open and Ivy froze at the sight of the empty bed. Her mother never got up before six-thirty since she didn’t have to be at the library until eight-thirty.
“Ivy?” her mother called from downstairs.
Devlin ran past Ivy, crouched low, head shifting left and right, ears pinned sideways against his head. He took refuge in her mother’s room, disappearing under the bed. He whined faintly.
Raven’s words echoed in Ivy’s head: It’s your funeral when your mom finds out.
“Be there in a minute,” Ivy called back, wondering if her funeral would be open, or closed casket.
Quietly, she opened the guest room door, her eyes taking in the whole room at once. It wasn’t difficult. The room contained a twin-sized bed with an old, dark headboard that needed refinishing. Her grandmother’s antique lace bedspread covered the bed. On either side of the bed were two small off-white square night tables.
What it didn’t contain was Spike.
Neither did the guest room closet.
Closed casket. Definitely closed casket.
She ran into her mother’s room, knelt next to the bed, and lifted the dust ruffle. Devlin peered up at her, his ears still slightly down and sideways. Usually, this behavior meant he’d done something wrong, like peeing on the roses, digging under the fence, or regurgitating rodents on the living room carpet.
This time, however, it was as though he were agreeing with Raven’s prediction last night of Death by Parent.
“Hey, buddy. Can you pick up Spike’s scent anywhere?”
Devlin retreated further under the bed.
“What was I supposed to have done? Leave him outside?”
Devlin cocked his head. “Gerrrr.”
“Yeah, well, does it sound like Mom’s found him? I don’t think she’s using her happy voice.” Her mother didn’t sound angry, but sometimes, when she was really mad, she tried to sound calm. Still, it could mean she’d found Spike and wanted an explanation on why he was still human.
Devlin scooted backward.
“Come out of there and help me!” she whispered.
He crawled to the far side of the bed, and turned his head away from her, tucking his coyote-like tail beneath him.
“Ivy?” Her mother’s voice was louder this time and Ivy heard the bottom stair creak.
“Chicken,” Ivy muttered. She quickly got to her feet, hurried out of the room and dashed down the stairs, nearly colliding with her mom who met her halfway.
“Are you okay, sweetie? You look pale.”
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Ivy replied honestly.
Okay, she said sweetie, so maybe she hadn’t found him. Yet.
Her mother sighed heavily. “I know the feeling.” She turned and trudged down the stairs like a much older woman. “I’ve put on some tea. Looks like you could use some, too.”
Ivy patted her leg and clucked for Devlin to follow them. She heard a shuffling noise and a slight whine from her mother’s bedroom, but Devlin wasn’t budging from his hiding place under the bed. For a moment, Ivy considered joining him.
The good news was that Spike might have escaped. Of course, that was bad news, too. What if Spike was downstairs in the kitchen? Then, bad news didn’t begin to cover it.
Her mother waved a hand as they passed through the living room and the blinds opened, letting in light from what promised to be a clear, sunny autumn day. “There’s a Council meeting at the library at seven o'clock.”
Ivy stared out the window and sighed with relief. Her mother was up and about already because of a Council meeting. Not because she’d found Spike.
Outside, Mrs. Bennett from across the street was watching her seven-year old son, Josh, walk to the bus stop. Two women wearing fleece jogging suits traveled briskly past the house. Mrs. Quincy’s cat, Midnight, stalked birds in the neighbors yard. If Spike was out there, she didn’t see him. Ivy glanced around the living room to make sure Devlin wasn’t looking out the window as well—Midnight needed a break. The room was as clean and neat as always. No bulge behind the drapes. No one crouched behind the sofa. No Spike, no Devlin. Ivy joined her mom in the kitchen.
“There was a break-in last night over at the Harrison’s house on Culver Street,” her mother said.
Ivy’s heart skipped a beat. “What happened?”
The teakettle whistled on the stove and with a wave of her mother’s hand, a cabinet door opened and two white tea cups with matching saucers flew to the table. “The Harrisons are okay. They’d just gotten home from dinner at the Wok of Life. A man and a woman ran out the back door. The Harrisons were lucky. They think the people who broke into their house were the same people Gloria saw attack her brother-in-law. Nothing was taken that they could tell, but the whole house was ransacked.”
A drawer opened and spoons fluttered out, finding their way alongside the teacups. A couple of tea bags and the sugar bowl soon joined them. Milk from the fridge materialized on the center of the table. The teakettle hovered above each cup long enough to pour hot water before returning to the stove.
Ivy took a seat across from her mother. “What does the Council plan to do?”
Her mother shook her head. “Form a hunt. Whoever is behind this can’t hide if all the Kindreds work together. Two murders and a break-in. I’ve taken extra precautions and put Warning spells around the perimeter of the house this morning. If someone steps foot outside after dark, I’ll know.”
Good tip, Ivy thought.
Two bowls and a box of cereal drifted toward the table.
“The Council is concerned that these people were...” her mother took a deep breath. “That they were looking for those...books. The ones the Council thinks your father took from Helen Skinner. Unfortunately, someone is using one of them—The Book of Lost Souls. The Council is saying that the people who broke into the Harrison’s house are conjured souls.” She shook her head. “We’ve been dreading it for years. Well, ever since your father left. The Regulars never knew exactly what those books could do. I suppose that the Council will have to tell them. We just need to band together and catch whoever is using these books again. Dark magic like this always leaves a mark. Sooner or later, the Kindred using it will go mad. Hopefully, we’ll catch them before something else tragic happens.”
Ivy suspected that her mother would have a fit if she knew her own daughter had one of Skinner’s books hidden in her room. If the town were searching for the person responsible, it’d be best to keep quiet. If anyone found out she had The Rise of the Dark Curse, they might just stop searching for the real culprit and blame her for what had happened. She was her father’s daughter after all.
“Mad?” Ivy repeated.
“Oh, yes,” her mother said. “At first,
they just become a little irritable. Act out of character. It’s the books. It’s like an addiction. They start to blatantly perform darker and darker magic, not caring who sees them. Eventually, they just lose themselves to the book and the evil inside it. Problem is, it could take the better part of a month. If you see anything, Ivy, anything at all—someone acting odd or anyone performing illegal magic, then you let me know immediately.”
“Mom?”
“Hmmm?” her mother said, raising the teacup to her lips.
“You don’t think he’s back, do you?”
The teacup fell from her mother’s hands, spilling tea onto the table. They both knew they were speaking about Ivy’s father.
“No,” she said firmly. She got to her feet, took the dishrag and began to manually clean up the mess. She rubbed the table harder and harder, even though there wasn’t any more tea to clean up. “Now, you listen to me, Ivy! He’s never coming back. If someone has the books, they’ve taken them from your father and returned here. Northwick would be the last place I’d ever expect to see your father. The Council would find him, destroy him like he did Helen Skinner.”
Ivy stood and tried to stop her mother from wiping the varnish off the table. “Mom, it’s okay.”
But it wasn’t okay. Her mother had loved him. Trusted him. He’d left her with a daughter who’s eyes reminded her of him. He’d left her with a broken heart and shame. Her mother had spent years regaining the trust of the Council and the town.
Ivy shouldn’t have said a word about her father. Not one word. If there was any hope of telling her mother that she had one Skinner’s books, or that Spike was somewhere in the house—and still human, that hope was now gone.
CHAPTER 24
Stopping her mother’s hurt and anger was like trying to stop a hurricane. She snatched the dishrag back from Ivy and stormed over to the sink, wringing the cloth over and over again. “He said he just wanted to make sure Helen Skinner wasn’t going to start using them again. He promised me that he was stronger than anyone else who had been allowed to see or read the books. He wasn’t.”
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