How I Found You

by Gabriella Lepore

  I began to count.

  One, two, three…

  “You can open them now,” Oscar whispered into my ear.

  I gasped at the sound of his voice. It had scarcely been a few seconds since I’d seen him standing at the foot of the cliff.

  “Oscar?” I choked.

  He held up his hand to cut me off. “No questions.” With a nod towards the woodland, he strode off into the trees, apparently confident that I would follow him.

  And I did.

  “By the way,” he added, “don’t mention this to your aunt. Or to anyone.” There was a faint trace of anxiety in his tone.

  “Okay,” I agreed uncertainly.

  “Not just about the cliff. I mean all of it. I’ll make sure you get out of the woods, but then I’m out of here. Don’t tell anyone that you saw me.”

  I chewed on my thumbnail. The idea of lying to Mary didn’t sit well with me.

  “Can’t I tell my aunt that you’re here? Don’t you want a lift home?” I attempted to entice him with a free ride. Surely he wouldn’t choose to walk all the way back to Millwood in the rain?

  “No, you cannot tell your aunt!” Oscar spluttered. “You’ve landed me in enough trouble as it is.”

  “How?” I furrowed my brow.

  Oscar didn’t reply.

  “Okay,” I exhaled heavily. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Good.” Oscar stalked ahead of me. Then, without taking his eyes from the path ahead, he yanked the pink bag from his back pocket and tossed it over his shoulder.

  I caught it and peeked inside at the mulberry-coloured dress.

  “Reunited,” Oscar remarked, glancing back at me with a reluctant smile.

  Somehow I knew that he wasn’t referring to the dress.

  See No Evil, Hear No Evil

  IF THERE WAS ONE THING that I regretted, it was letting Rose see me jump off the cliff. If Caicus had ever found out about that, he would have absolutely flayed me. Ha! At least she didn’t see my vertical sprint to get back up to the crest. That would have taken some explaining. Dumb girl. She should have watched.

  Anyway, after that colossal slip-up, the next few days passed by reasonably uneventfully. Caicus and I made ourselves at home; we even managed to slot ourselves in as part of the family. No questions asked.

  Caicus hung around in the kitchen a lot, making weird dough-based concoctions with Mary. Personally I couldn’t have thought of anything worse. I tended to linger wherever Rose was. It worked for me.

  We did all right, pitching in with odd jobs here and there. Although I always drew the line at cleaning duties. Cleaning wasn’t for me.

  Apart from that, things were running relatively smoothly. I’d noticed a few signs that something was coming, particularly as the weather had been so grim. And, of course, that meant that we’d been penned in for the past week like a flock of clucking battery hens. Believe me, I was sick of the sight of every single one of them. The lone consolation was that Roger worked during the weekdays. I couldn’t have stomached him, too.

  As it happened, our first dry day came on a Tuesday, a week and a half after our arrival.

  Outside, the sun shone brilliantly—a typical August afternoon. During a walk around the grounds, Caicus and I stumbled upon a truly inspired idea. But to pull it off, we would need to gather the necessary implements without rousing questions. As a general rule, the fewer questions asked, the less chance there was of being exposed. Anyway, we improvised some cock-and-bull story about how we’d love to do some gardening for Mary – calling it our way of thanking her for her kind hospitality.

  It was hard to keep a straight face when reeling off that one.

  So, whistling as we went, we trundled off to the garden shed. I especially liked the fact that we wore our matching navy polo shirts that day - it really made me feel in uniform.

  I unbolted the wooden shed door and switched on the light. A solitary bulb swung from the ceiling, providing a spotlight of colour in the windowless, dingy room. We selected a few grubby tools and took them to the garden. Neither of us spoke. There was no need to.

  Mary’s garden was a patch of land at the back of the house. It was okay. A couple of flower beds and rose bushes. It was a garden; what more could be said?

  I watched as Caicus jammed his pitchfork into the soil and rested his foot upon it.

  A pitchfork? I thought irritably. Right. ’Cause that doesn’t look suspicious at all. We’re not farming crops, idiot.

  “Snapdragons!” Caicus remarked brightly. “Isn’t that nice?” His powder-blue eyes and fair hair made him seem almost angelic under the glow of the sunlight; it must have been an extreme contrast to my darker attributes. I guessed I was the fallen angel.

  I looked down upon the snapdragons, some of which had wilted in the mid-summer climate. I flipped my spade into the air and caught it by the handle. “Is anyone watching?”

  Caicus subtly glanced over to the house. “No one’s in the kitchen,” he confirmed. “Or the dining room.”

  “Good. You keep lookout.”

  I stabbed my spade into the ground and began unearthing the sprigs of snapdragons. Damn, it was fun. Authorised destruction. That was only one step below my personal favourite—unauthorised destruction.

  With complete reckless abandon, I uprooted the flowers and handed them to Caicus, who began methodically plucking off the snout-shaped petals.

  “That ought to do it,” Caicus said, giving me a little nudge with the toe of his boot.

  “Sure?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” He opened out his fist to show me the contents. “What do you think? Is that enough?”

  I pushed his hand away. “How am I supposed to know?”

  “Well, I don’t know. What do you think?” He waved the snapdragon petals at me again.

  I contemplated it for a while. “Eh, whatever,” I said at last. “It’ll do. And if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Isn’t it enough that we had the idea at all?”

  Caicus nodded his head enthusiastically. “It was a good idea,” he reflected. “We should give ourselves more credit. We’re really good at…” he paused. I could tell he was trying to think of something profound to say. “Ideas,” he finished.

  Oh. Well, good enough.

  I hopped to my feet and brushed the soil from my hands. “Yes, we are,” I agreed matter-of-factly. “And we’re always so underappreciated.”

  “True,” Caicus agreed with a sombre sigh.

  We had no modesty. It wasn’t a trait that applied to us.

  “I wish the others could see us now.” Caicus licked his lips in excitement. “The look on their faces when they found out that we were the chosen two!”

  I grinned. “That was a great day. If only I’d had my camera.”

  “To think they ever doubted us. Us,” Caicus boasted. “I mean, they didn’t find her, did they?” he went on, feeding our egos. “No. We did. All that time wasted searching, and we’re the ones to find her!”

  I laughed under my breath. “It must make them sick.”

  “Sick!” Caicus echoed.

  “Speaking of sick, I don’t know how much more of my pleasant attitude I can stomach,” I grumbled. “Or yours, for that matter.”

  “The feeling’s mutual,” Caicus jeered. His face contorted in distaste. “I’ll be glad when this is all over.”

  I felt the familiar lurch of foreboding.

  “Yeah,” I grimaced.

  I looked up to the sky, squinting in the bright light. All of a sudden I was overcome by what could only be described as extreme irritation. I stabbed my spade into the soil, relishing the sensation of the blade plunging into the ground.

  Caicus cocked his head to the side. “Something bothering you, brother dearest?” he asked. I could sense a touch of misgiving in his tone.

  “No.”

  “Hmm.” He raised a cynical eyebrow. “Far be it for me to say, but I hope you’re not getting too comfortable.”

  I l
aughed bitterly. “I am far from comfortable, my friend. In fact, I am categorically uncomfortable.” My gaze drifted up to Rose’s attic window. There was no sign of movement from inside the room. I didn’t like that. I liked to know where she was at all times. It made things easier.

  “I can’t figure her out,” Caicus mused, joining my line of vision. “She infuriates me. My powers are useless on her. It’s as though she knows who we are. I mean, that’s the only logical theory I’ve come up with; she’s found out our secret and is now immunised from our powers.” He let out a howl of impatience.

  I tapped my index finger to my mouth. “No,” I muttered. “There must be some other way. She has no idea who we are.”

  For a while I thought she did. I thought she’d recognised me. But she didn’t. She didn’t know who I was. And she didn’t know who we were.

  Witches.

  Valero Witches, to be precise.

  I went on, “I don’t know. She’s…” I paused. What was she? “Special.” As soon as the word had left my mouth, I knew I’d put my foot in it.

  Special? What was I thinking?

  Caicus looked at me bizarrely. “What? You’re calling her special now?” He looked away again. “Anyone would think you’re fond of her.”

  “Hardly!”

  “Oh? What would you call it, then?”

  More than fond, I thought.

  Instead I said, “Work. It’s my job to keep a close eye on her. We don’t want you-know-who finding her now, do we? Not when we’ve come this far.”

  Caicus responded with a cat-like smile. “Eyes on the prize.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Well, this should help to keep her hidden,” he said. He handed over the petals, and I stuffed them into my jeans pocket.

  There was an old trick where the shape of snapdragons would catch the eyes and ears of unwanted seekers—straight into the dragon’s jaws, so to speak. Ancient witch tribes would surround their camps with the flower so as to conceal their whereabouts from enemies. Normally I wasn’t one for tricks and illusions, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  An abrupt shout from the manor startled us both.

  It was Mary.

  “Hello out there!” she called, waving at us from the kitchen window. “We’re making sandwiches if you’re hungry.”

  We exchanged a quick glance.

  “The show must go on,” Caicus muttered under his breath. He raised his voice to reply. “Thank you, Mary!” he gushed. “That would be lovely!”

  “Oh yes,” I harmonised in my most repulsive tenor. “Thank you!”

  We dumped our gardening tools on the ground and crossed the lawn towards the house. Caicus led the way through the dining room entrance and we strolled into the adjoining kitchen.

  Mary and Rose were already seated at the breakfast table, preparing sandwiches for lunch. The baby sat in his highchair beside them.

  I couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at Rose. She wore white linen trousers and a cookie-coloured summer top. Her autumn-brown hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders.

  I scowled. She was beautiful. No, scratch that—she was way beyond beautiful. That was the most annoying thing about her.

  Whatever. Game face on.

  I decided not to look directly at her; that was becoming a fairly practised way of keeping my focus. Instead I looked at the breakfast table. Fascinating.

  On the other side of the table, Mary buttered bread whilst Caicus engaged her in harmless conversation. As she chattered back effervescently, Caicus slipped his mind onto a different frequency, speaking only through thought and reaching only my ears. We’d learnt to communicate this way from a very young age, it certainly came in handy.

  Oscar, Caicus signalled to me silently, now’s the time. I’ll keep them distracted.

  I acknowledged his words whilst simultaneously remaining blasé to anyone beyond the private conversation.

  Alright, I replied to Caicus. I need an exit strategy. We don’t want them getting suspicious.

  He winked at me. There’s only one strategy you need: charm. Now be a good boy and show me that pretty little smile of yours.

  Ha! I’ll show you my pretty little fist in a minute. Jackass.

  He sniggered under his breath. Yeah, yeah. Are you going or not?

  I’m going. Make sure that you warn me if they leave the kitchen, I added. Then out loud, I oh-so-politely said, “Excuse me, Mary, may I use the shower?” Gag.

  She nodded her head, sending her strawberry blonde curls bouncing around her cheeks. “Of course, dear. There are clean towels in the airing cupboard.”

  I flashed her an impossibly charming smile. “Thank you, Mary.”

  I excused myself and sauntered out of the kitchen. I could feel Rose’s eyes on my back as I meandered to the staircase.

  Once I was out of sight, I picked up my speed and, in the blink of an eye, I was in the upstairs hallway.

  I went through the motions of collecting a towel from the airing cupboard and hanging it on a hook in the bathroom. After that, I twisted the shower taps until the water cascaded down, pattering against the pearl white base. In the background, the hum of the water heater droned loudly. A nice touch.

  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and smirked at my reflection.

  Hello, me.

  Now for the fun part. Noiselessly, I strode out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me with a click.

  After a sly check that the coast was clear, I swiftly ascended the second flight of stairs—the stairs leading to Rose’s bedroom. And when I say swiftly, I mean my feet barely touched the floor. Add to that my exceptional lightness, which allowed me to strategically dodge all of the creaking floorboards.

  Yawn. Give me a challenge.

  I opened the bedroom door.

  Damn... Maybe I spoke too soon.

  If I was looking for a challenge, I got one when I stepped into Rose’s room. This was the first time I’d actually been in the attic, so I was momentarily stunned by the undiluted scent of Rose. Everything from her clothes to her books—it was all her.

  I recoiled. It was far too potent for my sensitive nose. I liked it a little too much.

  Keen to get out of there ASAP, I stepped over to the bed and lifted the mattress. I dug through my pockets and scattered the snapdragons along the frame of the bed. They were a little squashed, but still comparatively snout-shaped.

  Eh, that’ll do. I thought.

  Satisfied with my work, I dropped the mattress back down and made for the door.

  On my way out, I paused at the dressing table. There was a candle. It smelt sweet, like toffee. This was peculiar to me. In my experience, candles are used as tools, not as scented ornaments.

  What does she use this for? I wondered.

  I lifted it up for closer inspection and rotated it with interest. The wick was intact. It had never been lit.

  My curiosity was interrupted by the sound of Caicus’s raised voice travelling up from the ground floor.

  “Rose!” I heard Caicus shout from downstairs. “Where are you going?”

  I froze. She was on her way upstairs.

  “To my room,” Rose replied.

  “Why?” Caicus demanded.

  “Because I want to,” Rose answered with an edge of impertinence. Her gentle footsteps echoed as she crossed the wooden floor towards the main staircase.

  Oscar, Caicus wailed silently. Get out! Get out now!

  Rose reached the first-floor hallway and headed for her bedroom staircase. However, as she passed the family bathroom, her footsteps stopped.

  I listened to Caicus and Rose’s conversation.

  “So,” Caicus began prattling away frantically, “this is some cuckoo weather we’re having, eh? Can you believe it? One day it’s raining, the next day it’s—”

  Rose cut him off. “Oscar said he was going for a shower, right?”

  “Uh, no. No, he didn’t.” Caicus laughed nervously. “No, wait, I mean,
yes. Of course! Who else would be in the shower? It’s not going to run itself, now is it? That would be ridiculous! Have you ever seen the view from my bedroom? It’s fabulous. Come and have a look,” he urged.

  Jeeze, Caicus.

  For the record, I would have dealt with the situation so much better.

  Thanks to my razor-sharp hearing, I detected the delicate sound of Rose resting her fingertips on the bathroom door handle.

  “He’s not in there,” she murmured.

  Time to spring in to action. This is how the big boys do it.

  Before Rose could make her move, I made mine. I shut off the shower and abruptly flung open the bathroom door.

  Oh, did I not mention that I’d made it back to the bathroom? I could be very fast when I needed to be.

  The best thing about this little stunt was Caicus’s face. It was a picture! He was as white as a ghost. Sure, I could have told him that I was in there, but why waste a perfectly good opportunity to make him look like a jabbering buffoon?

  I stood in the open doorway, my hair and body dripping with water and a pale yellow towel wrapped around my waist.

  Just to rub it in, I feigned surprise at the sight of my evident company.

  Rose blushed and cast her eyes down to the floor.

  Behind her back, Caicus’s body language relaxed. He bit his lip in barely suppressed glee.

  That was cutting it a bit close, he remarked to me, silently.

  Nope. Easy, I responded. No thanks to you! What was with the spiel about the weather? Have you no imagination?

  I panicked, Caicus protested. You could have told me you were in there!

  I grinned wickedly.

  “I-I’m sorry,” Rose stammered. “I didn’t mean to… I mean, I wasn’t standing out here to, um, see you. I was just, um… I was just passing.”

  Caicus’s face lit up in amusement and Rose hurried off to her bedroom.

  Once we were certain that she was safely in the attic, we made our way to our own room.

  It was a spacious twin bedroom, decorated to Mary’s taste. There were a few oddly matched pieces of carved furniture and two single beds, both sporting daisy-patterned bedspreads—which incidentally matched the daisy-print curtains. No comment.