And Karsh saw:
A forest, deep with trees, yet swampy, indicating water nearby — a pond, a lake, a bay, perhaps. Yes. A handsome cove, edged in tall reeds and cattails and a narrow, rocky beach. But in the woods, through an aisle of towering evergreens, a mystic circle walled with rocks made his blood run cold. In horror, he watched, repulsed yet hypnotized, as a gaunt form in a funereal cape turned to him, eyes wide with shock. Gasping, grabbing his temples, the stunned figure staggered backward, then crumpled in the dirt.
Karsh’s own hands flew to his head to stop the spreading and deepening pain. He heard screams again, far away but familiar. And then everything faded.
The unnerved warlock gripped the bookcase to steady himself and took a tentative step forward. Shards of glass crunched under his slippers. His head pounded.
Visions such as these, as he’d taught Camryn, signaled a premonition, a psychic preview of an event that would occur at a later time. Sometimes it felt frightening and dangerous, predicting something bad; often it was hard to figure out exactly what it meant.
But Karsh knew precisely what this vision had forecast. Angrily, he slammed his fist on the bookcase. He had much to do now, and he had to act quickly.
Leaving the broken glass where it lay, he yanked the Sticks and Stones book from its perch and flung it open. Eyes closed, he sifted through the stones, recognizing the ones he sought by touch.
The sacred five would tell him what he needed to know immediately — where Ileana was. She’d fled Coventry Island, wanting time and space to cope with the trial’s revelations. And Karsh had promised not to seek her out.
His premonition forced him to break that promise.
He cleared the top of his ancient desk and placed four of the stones in an exact pattern, laying the tiger-eye in the center. He lit a candle and, with intensity, performed the Calling.
Light radiated from deep within each stone. Each beam strengthened the glowing color of the next. Together they formed a powerful rainbow. If the ritual were done correctly, with a pure heart, he would find her in the tigereye. Be able to summon her in a flash, when and if he had to.
Karsh stared into the golden gleam of the center stone — and saw Ileana.
She was alone on a beach, staring out at the sea. Instantly, he knew where his dejected charge had gone. He exhaled fully and allowed relief to sweep through him.
Which might have been why he didn’t hear them, or pick up the scent of cheap cologne and oily hair tonic, and didn’t intuit the danger; maybe that was why he found himself ambushed.
Two intruders violently kicked in his front door and came at him with fists raised.
He knew his attackers. Tsuris and Vey, the vicious sons of Fredo DuBaer, had recently arrived on the island to attend their father’s trial. Now, fueled by misguided allegiance to the parent they rarely saw, the mindless bullies wanted revenge.
“Where is she, old man?” Tsuris, the taller of the deluded duo, demanded as he took a menacing step toward Karsh.
“Where is Ileana, the traitor who put our father in jail? She’s not at home,” snarled the clumpy, red-faced Vey. “We already searched her place. You know where she is. Give it up!”
Karsh tried to reason with them. “Your anger is misdirected. Ileana did nothing more than open the door, allowing the truth to finally come out.”
“Truth? You old faker! You can’t fool us,” Tsuris growled. “It’s a scheme to smear our good name, cheat us out of what’s owed to us.”
So that was it? These insolent fools, raised in California by a greedy mother who’d divorced Fredo years ago, felt threatened. They didn’t care about their father, only that their share of the inheritance of DuBaer Industries might be affected.
Karsh shook his head. Selfish and stupid begat selfish and stupid. There was no reasoning with either.
“Tell us where she is right now, or you’ll regret it … if you live to!” Vey leaned in threateningly.
Ordinarily, Karsh could have dispensed with these roughnecks. With a flick of his hand, he could have turned Vey into the lumpy toad he resembled and Tsuris, whose bleached hair stood on end, into a prickly cactus. But strong and healthy as Karsh had felt moments ago, age had slowed him and the premonition had broken his concentration. Just enough for the dunderheaded duo to act.
With a brutal shove, Tsuris knocked Karsh down. The surprised tracker landed hard on his back on the cold stone floor. Waving the cane the old warlock had used during his illness, Vey ordered him to stay down.
The ruffians raged through the cottage, flinging open doors, wrecking what they could — out of sheer spite — knocking over furniture, tearing down drying herbs, breaking crockery and glassware in their way.
The pain in Karsh’s head was intense. Just before everything went black, he heard the sickening clatter of his sacred stones tumbling from the table and skidding across the slate floor.
CHAPTER SIX
A RESTLESS NIGHT
PITS was crowded, noisy, and warm with the scrumptious, oven-fresh scent of pizza. Five of the “Six Pack,” Cam’s crew, plus Alex, were cozily packed into the big booth up front — where everyone who came or went could pause to chat, wave, or check them out admiringly.
“Let’s get out of here,” Alex whispered to her sister.
Cam nodded but made no move to leave.
Neither of them was hungry. For the past fifteen minutes, they’d picked at their slices, nodded, and pretended to be part of the Friday evening fun and festivities. But their attention was elsewhere.
Cam couldn’t forget the ugly vision Thantos had painted for them or shake the awful feeling that it was a peek into the future, not some random event their uncle had conjured.
Alex was equally preoccupied, but she was thinking of their mother and whether Thantos had told them the truth when he’d said Miranda wouldn’t call again or come to see them without his … permission.
Cam had been honestly pleased for her tall, curly-haired best friend Beth, who’d just gotten her driver’s permit. But after giving Beth a brief “Go, girl,” she’d quickly tuned out.
Alex had tried to listen as Kristen Hsu, tossing her cascading, stick-straight, pitch-black hair over her shoulders, delivered the latest word on Bree — who was still dealing with her anorexia at the same California clinic where their mom was supposed to be.
And it took all the energy they had to fake interest in the newest school tragedy being batted around by Sukari and Amanda.
“Someone said it was a skateboarding accident,” gullible Amanda was saying. “But then I heard she slipped on the stairs —”
“And landed on her eyeball? I think not,” Sukari noted dryly.
“They’re investigating her folks,” Kristen confidently chimed in. “They always go after the ’rents when child abuse is suspected.”
“Kenya is not exactly a child,” Beth pointed out. “She’s … Cami, isn’t she in Dylan’s class?”
Hearing her brother’s name jolted Cam. “What?” she asked, startled.
Something about a girl in his class, Alex silently informed her.
“Kenya Carson,” Beth said. “Isn’t she in —”
“I’m sorry,” Cam said. “I’m just —” She looked at her sister for help.
“She’s … not feeling well,” Alex decided. “I told her we should’ve stayed home but —”
“Oh, no.” Kris shrank away from Cam. “That’s all I need. My sister just got over the flu —”
Cam looked around, dazed. She did feel sick. And she probably looked it, too.
“Come on, let’s go,” Alex urged her.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Cam told her buds, sliding out of the booth. “I probably just need a good night’s sleep. But Als is right. We should go home.”
“If it were daytime, I could drive you,” Beth said.
“Our bikes have lights. And there’s a moon out. No probs,” Alex assured her.
A good night’s sleep was not an
option.
Cam wanted to look in on Dylan before they went to their room, but Alex didn’t.
“He’s cool. I checked him out before we left,” Alex said, walking past Dyl’s closed door. “Just before Uncle Devious popped up. Do you think he was telling the truth?”
Cam shuddered. “I hope not.”
“I wasn’t talking about his teen horror flick starring Dylan Barnes.” After cautiously opening the door to their room and finding it free of uninvited guests, Alex threw her hooded sweatshirt on her bed. “I meant Miranda. Do you think he’s the only one who can get her to come here? Because if that’s true, it really reeks. I mean, she’s our mom. You’d think she’d want to see us as badly as we want —”
“What was it he said?” Cam asked, pulling the scrunchie off her ponytail and shaking her hair free. “Accidents do happen.”
“He was just trying to scare us,” Alex decided as Cam headed for the bathroom that linked their room with Dylan’s.
“Trying?” Cam exclaimed. “I’d say he was totally successful.” She glanced at the door leading to her brother’s room — and felt a pull to just peek in….
“Have you ever thought about why he wants us?” Alex called, distracting her.
“Who, Thantos?” Cam’s worrywart impulse faded. “Duh! Have you ever thought about coloring your hair?”
By the time she came out in her pj’s, Alex — wearing a ripped and threadbare T-shirt that had belonged to her adoptive mom, Sara — was already in bed.
“No, I’m serious, Cami. Let’s face it,” Alex said as her identical twin climbed into her identical twin bed, “when it comes to the craft, we’re good, but we’re not that good. If he really wanted to, Big Unc could brutally blow us away. Why hasn’t he?”
Cam shrugged, then clicked off the light on the table between them. “Gotta say, I just sort of bought Ileana’s explanation —”
Ileana, their high-strung but nevertheless extremely bright guardian, believed that Thantos wanted to “turn” the twins; to bring them, and the remarkable powers they were destined to possess, over to the dark side; to have them serve their uncle’s greed for wealth and power rather than the urgent needs of humanity.
Ileana also believed that failing to persuade them to work for him, Thantos would not hesitate to kill them.
For a while, neither of them spoke, but each knew the other was awake and afflicted with “monkey mind” — which, according to Cam’s friend Amanda, was a Zen expression for wildly obsessive thinking.
“Okay, a dollar fifty for your thoughts,” Alex finally broke the silence. “I mean, I’m kind of focusing on when, while you’re all about what, right?”
“I guess,” Cam confessed. “I mean, when we’ll get to meet our mom isn’t really up to us, is it? But I can’t help thinking about what she’s really like.”
“And your conclusion?” Alex prodded.
“Gentle,” Cam said. “You know, like, calm and kind and loving … And probably kind of nervous about meeting us. Like wanting to make a good impression. I mean, she’s a mom, right?”
“Dude, she’s also a witch,” Alex pointed out. “Think about it. She’s survived the murder of her husband, the loss of us — no big deal, right? — and fifteen years in captivity, like, practically in prison or whatever. Fifteen years locked away from her Coventry Island friends and family —”
“So what are you saying?” Cam asked defensively. “You think she’s going to be like some ex-con?”
“No, but I don’t see her as all sweet and soft and momlike,” her sister retorted. “I think she’s probably incredibly strong. More like some fierce goddess, you know, like this temporarily sidelined superwoman —”
“Alex! She cried on the phone. She cried when she heard our voices,” Cam said impatiently. “What are we, Kryptonite?”
“Good night,” Alex said.
“Yeah, really,” Cam grumbled.
Half an hour later, she added, “They both had gray eyes. Weird, huh?”
“Our parents,” Alex responded without skipping a beat. “Bree said Miranda had the same color eyes as ours, but big, bad Thantos claims we resemble our dad —”
“Bree said she was very beautiful,” Cam murmured.
“That nails it.” Alex laughed. “Obviously, Uncle T was right. We must look like our father.”
Cam giggled. Their dad, Aron, they’d discovered, had been the middle child of three — born between tall, hulking Thantos and small, skinny, goat-bearded Fredo. “Ugh,” Cam said, “I hope he didn’t look anything like his brothers.”
They were quiet for a time. When Alex next glanced at the digital clock between them, she saw that it was three A.M. “Which brings us back to when,” she said.
“Huh?” Cam had dozed off.
“Maybe we should play along. Pretend we’re, like, totally ready to intern at his company, go with him, — just as soon as he gets us together with Miranda. What do you think?”
Camryn shifted sleepily. “I think we’re doing it again,” she said, yawning. “Trying to figure out everything on our own when it’s clear we should be asking for Karsh’s and Ileana’s help.”
“Cami,” Alex confessed, “I’ve been trying to contact them all night. They’re not answering —” A moment later, she sat up abruptly. Hugging herself against a cold breeze that had suddenly raised goose bumps on the nape of her neck, she called softly, “Cam?”
“I … I’m here,” her sister replied through chattering teeth. “And, er … I think he is, too. I just felt his presence.”
“Thantos. I know,” Alex whispered. “I … smelled him.”
“And what do I smell like?” The sheer window curtains rose and fluttered, as if driven by their uncle’s booming voice. “Snakes and snails and puppy-dog tails?”
“Cloves and wet earth and stinging ice,” Alex replied shakily.
“Excellent,” Thantos said. “Your senses are remarkably honed. However, I’m not here to judge your skills but rather to demonstrate mine. Go to the sacred tree in Mariner’s Park —”
“Our mother?” Alex asked, shivering again.
“When?” Cam demanded.
“Now,” their uncle said. “As on the day of your birth, between the rising sun and waning moon, she will welcome you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
A RIDE IN THE PARK
Cam hadn’t fallen off a bike since she was six. Now, on this pale moonlit night, just before dawn, she was trembling so hard, she kept losing her balance on the red mountain bike she’d had for years. Her palms were clammy; she was shivering and sweating at the same time. Like a fever.
She’d rushed out of the house so fast, she’d forgotten her wallet and cell phone, hadn’t bothered to fix her hair, or even leave a note for her parents. By Cam standards, she was a wreck.
Alex was faring no better. Trying, and failing, to keep a calm exterior, she pedaled next to Cam, as obviously unprepared for chattering teeth, sweaty palms on the handlebars, and difficulty breathing as her twin.
For a while, they were silent, each lost in thought.
Memories — not their own but stories they’d been told by others, by Karsh, by Ileana, Thantos, and even Fredo — came flooding back as every rotation of their bike wheels took them closer.
Cam recalled the first stunning time she and Alex had heard Miranda’s voice, a flashback that occurred spontaneously when their sun and moon necklaces fused together for the very first time.
And now they were about to meet her. Nearly one year since they’d met each other.
In that time, Cam had gone through a million imaginary conversations with Miranda. Sometimes the connection was instant and natural. She and Miranda laughed, embraced, caught up on the missing years. It would be like, Cam thought, meeting a friend you hadn’t seen in a long time and marveling at how easy it was to pick up the familiar threads of conversation.
She’d even envisioned introducing Miranda to Dave and Emily and Dylan. Somehow, all of them would
live as one family, united.
There were other fantasies. In these, Miranda had been aloof, standoffish. She’d never really wanted to be in their lives. In spite of everything Cam and Alex had been led to believe, she had ditched them knowingly and was now forced by Thantos to see them again. After which, she’d hurriedly leave.
Though she would never admit it, Cam almost preferred the “rejection” daydreams. The ones in which she’d meet Miranda only once. Mystery solved. Then she could finally get her life back, the fun one she used to have.
She shuddered suddenly. Mystery. What was the meaning of Thantos’s grotesque Dylan-in-the-Dumpster trick? It had been meant to scare them, to prove Thantos’s power, nothing more, Cam tried in vain to reassure herself. Her heart thudded and panic struck at the very idea. Plus, she didn’t have her cell phone. What if something really did happen to Dyl and he tried desperately to reach her?
Without meaning to, Cam hit the brakes abruptly.
“Watch out!” Alex shouted. “What’s wrong with you? You practically crashed into me.”
Cam swallowed. “Not even close. And just because you’re nervous doesn’t give you the right to be such an irritator-tot,” she shot back, grateful to stop thinking about Dylan. “You’re not the only one who’s —”
“Scared? Nervous? Petrified that Uncle Devious has got some skanky plan up his lumberjack sleeve to involve Dylan in our doings?” Alex took a deep breath. “Look, Cam — like it or not — we just have to deal. We had no choice in the timing of this mother-and-child reunion.”
Alex let Cam pedal ahead of her. She knew she was being totally irrational, but suddenly, every little thing about her twin annoyed her. The way her pink jacket puffed just so, the way she leaned forward on her pricey, ergonomically correct mountain bike. The fact that she’d been brought up wealthy and carefree — while Alex had scrounged in poverty, often feeling lonely, different, and desperate.
T*Witches: Double Jeopardy Page 3