“Okay, Nona. You ready to get down to business?” Nona meowed and led the way. No one said anything as she left, but she told Mireya she was going to stop in and see Colin.
It was not overly cold, but the snow covered ground made it slow going. More than once Meghan swore she had that feeling of someone spying on her and stopped to look around. She never saw anyone. Once out in Grimble she stopped for a bit, and hid behind a nearby tree to see if anyone followed her out.
No one did. At least no one she could see.
She let out a breath. Hopefully she’d make it to her uncle, unseen.
It was much warmer in Grimble, with no snow at all.
“I won’t ever get used to this,” she said, taking off her coat and scarf, stashing them high into the tree. She assumed that Timothy would show himself, but when he did not, she headed to the old mill hoping her uncle would be there. It was empty. She grabbed a leaf, preparing a message.
“I’m in the place we always meet. Meghan.” She kept it vague in case as Jae suspected, she was being followed. The leaf floated away. Ten minutes later, Eddy appeared, and even for a ghost, he looked disheveled.
“If I could put my arms around you!” he cried. “It is good to see you up and moving. How’s Colin, any change?”
Meghan had asked Jae to send a leaf explaining what had happened, leaving out the part about the missing book. She dreaded it, but wanted to explain in person.
“The doctor thinks he’s getting closer to finding which spell was used, but no change yet. He’s still in a coma.” She leaned in closer, talking in nearly a whisper. “Jae feared I might be followed.”
Uncle Eddy understood at once. “I worried about that too.”
“I expected Timothy to find me,” she noted more loudly.
“Yes, getting worried about the lad. Haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks,” said her uncle, seeming distracted.
“Did he move on?” she asked.
“No, I don’t think so. He would have said goodbye,” her uncle assured her.
“I hope he’s all right. I know he’s a ghost, but he’s just a little kid.”
“I’m sure he’s just busy getting himself into some sort of trouble. Oh, nothing to worry about, I’m sure. I can handle Timothy. You need to be with your brother.”
“Yeah, um, there’s something else,” she admitted reluctantly, searching for the right words to explain, in case they were overheard.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice distressed.
“Colin lost his favorite thing,” she said softly. “More like, it was stolen.”
Her uncle reeled, keenly aware she was talking about the Magicante.
“I’m going to find it,” she promised straightaway. “I’m not sure where to start though.”
“Yes, well, that’s always the hard part, getting started.” He floated in circles for a minute before letting out a ghostly whisper.
“Meghan, I didn’t want to burden you with this, but it appears I have no choice. You must find it! Failure is not an option.” Her uncle’s serious tone left her uneasy.
“I know, I promised Colin I would find it.”
Eddy checked one more time, to make absolutely certain they were alone, before explaining what he meant.
“It’s more valuable than I’ve let on, Meghan. And in the wrong hands, or stupid hands, it could be made to do very despicable things; not only to the Svoda, but to every… living… thing.” His voice was so low she could barely hear him.
“What do you mean by despicable things?” she asked, her unease turning to fright.
“It contains ancient information, things forgotten by most and heavily sought after by those who do remember. Power, that could change the course of every world, for good or bad.”
His words petrified Meghan near as much as the thought of losing her brother. He came down to her level, looking her in the eye.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to frighten you. But Colin must absolutely get this book back. It is imperative. He will need it.” The desperation in his voice sent a spiral of dread sinking down her spine.
She opened her mouth to ask just what he meant. Just why this book was so special to her brother when Nona meowed out a warning. Someone is coming. Meghan wasn’t even sure how she knew this, but she was positive this is what her Catawitch was telling her.
“Meghan, I realize you’re confused,” said her uncle. “I’m sorry I can’t help you more. If my presence is discovered, many lives will be put in danger. You must figure this out. You must get the book, back. Or… well let’s not think about the or. You can do this.” He smiled knowingly.
A second later, without warning or farewell, he vanished into thin air.
Meghan spent exactly three seconds staring blankly into nothing.
Confused didn’t even begin to describe how she was feeling.
Nona meowed again. Meghan jerked her head, instinct telling her to follow the Catawitch. They escaped the old mill, sneaking out the back into the woods, avoiding whoever had arrived.
The farther in they went, the landscape changed. The dead and decaying trees of Grimble were replaced with ones filled with luscious green leaves and needles. Though lush and colorful in comparison to the ghost town, it was still quiet and devoid of things like birds or insects or breezes.
They were headed downhill. After another minute, a warm mist caressed Meghan’s skin. She shed her sweater, the weather suddenly warm, almost tropical, although still, and stuffy.
“Where are you taking me, Nona?” The cat meowed and trotted along. Meghan followed obediently. Not too much later she froze.
Voices.
She took a moment to catch her breath and scan the area.
They were approaching the bottom of a hill. The thick trees were thinning. At the bottom of the hill was a gully, lined with tiny huts made out of mud and straw. She took a few steps closer not paying attention and walked right into a flyaway spider web. She wrestled it off her, and hid behind a tree trunk fearful she’d made too much noise.
Nona pawed at her. Meghan let out a breath she’d been holding.
Where was she? What the heck was she doing? Would she even be able to find her way back out of this place? It took her a minute, but she stepped out from behind the tree and peered down into the gully. She ducked back again when something moved below, between two of the huts. Cautiously, her head slid out from behind the tree.
“No one can actually live here, can they?” she muttered to herself. It looked more like a hideout. Or compound.
She ducked back when two ghosts came around the far end of the huts, floating around the perimeter. Guards, she assumed. Keeping watch. “Over what? Is the question.”
Meghan didn’t know how she’d do it, but she needed to get down there and see what was going on. Nona had led her here for a reason. How this was related to Colin, or the book, she couldn’t even imagine.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Nona,” she whispered. She looked down at her feet but the Catawitch wasn’t there. “Nona?” she called out in a loud whisper. “Well that’s just great.” Her shoulders slumped and she let out a huff. “Not even my loyal Catawitch stayed with me.”
She was nowhere to be found. Meghan decided it didn’t matter at this point. She’d figure out what was going on. She hoped she hadn’t misread Nona, and the cat hadn’t really brought her here because she was scrounging up a mouse or something.
Meghan shook her head. “No. She wanted me to see something.” She peered down into the huts, hoping to understand why Nona had led her to this place. She inched her way closer, but still couldn’t make out much more. She got down on the ground and crawled little by little, when she spotted a fallen tree about ten feet ahead of her. It still had some pine needles on it.
“Maybe I can hide in there,” she whispered, crawling along the ground. She saw the perfect spot, a hollow big enough for her to… Meghan froze, hitching her breath.
Her gaze followed a shoe, a
ttached to a leg, which crawled backwards out of the very hollow she was heading for.
The smallest noise would alert this person to her presence. Meghan desperately searched for another place to hide. She’d have to get up and run; it was sure to cause a racket.
A second leg backed out of the tree. Her eyes widened and nostrils flared as she realized it was too late. She was on her hands and knees, facing the backside of her unknown companion.
She went to push backwards, but a hand reached back to pull itself away from the tree, and instead of finding ground, it landed on Meghan’s face. She did not budge, every muscle perfectly still. Breath held.
What if this was the person responsible for hurting Colin?
The hand didn’t move from her face.
Meghan imagined whoever it was, they were in shock just like her.
The hand dropped slowly and a sickly face turned toward her. In unison, and too loudly, both parties cried out, “Meghan!” “Ivan!”
Ivan dragged Meghan into the tree hollow; it was a tight fit, which neither of them were pleased about. The two ghost guards belted over the huts looking for the perpetrators of the noise. After a minute, the ghosts were satisfied that they had heard nothing and went back to their normal rounds.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded in a loud whisper.
“I should ask you the same thing. Why was your brother attacked?”
She refused to answer, not sure whether to trust him or not.
“I’ve been tracking Colin’s attacker,” Ivan acknowledged, seeing her determination not to speak.
“What! Why?”
“The Balaton are looking for an insider. I think it was an outside job. Any reason you can think of as to why that might be, Ms. Jacoby?” he asked curtly.
And to think, I was beginning to believe he might be human, she thought.
A stern faced Ivan waited for her reply.
“I have no clue who attacked my brother,” she stated. “Nona led me here.”
His eyes widened. “That’s a good sign, then.” He turned back to the ghosts.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on here?” she asked him.
“Best guess is that they’re guarding something. I came into Grimble to ask around a bit. Started talking about the attack with a couple of ghosts in town, and spied another listening close by. He took off all a sudden like, seemed suspicious to me so I followed him here.”
Meghan’s first thoughts led to Colin’s book. Could it be in the mud huts? Maybe this had nothing at all to do with Darcy, or Garner Sadorus. Perhaps this had something to do with Duppy, the hideous looking ghost that had confronted them about the book as well.
Meghan was about to speak when Ivan cupped her mouth and put fingers to his own. “Shh.” The ghost guard was coming around again.
Meghan still wasn’t sure if she could trust Ivan or not, but she was glad at least, not to be alone. She waited until the ghosts had rounded the next corner, and decided to be bold; she would have to if she was going to talk Ivan into invading the huts with her.
“Ivan, can ghosts or anyone from Grimble get into the wagons?”
He frowned. “Not supposed to.” He didn’t sound confident that it couldn’t happen.
“It was over a book,” she admitted.
“Your brother was attacked over a book? Are you sure?”
“Positive. It’s not a monetary thing, well, it could be I guess. It’s what’s in the book that matters. I think.” She bit her lip and shrugged. Eddy hadn’t really told her much.
“We need to get closer,” he decided.
“Any ideas on how to do that?” she asked, glad he had not instantly abandoned her.
“I’ve been spying for hours, and those two ghosts doing rounds take a good couple of minutes on the other side. Do you see that small alley there?” he pointed in between two of the huts. “I can’t quite tell, but I think there’s a cart or something we might be able to hide in.”
“Okay,” she agreed without argument.
He nodded, shushing her again as the ghosts came back around. They waited, ready to spring for the alley as soon as the ghosts were out of sight. Meghan went first, dashing through the other side of the tree, followed by Ivan.
They reached the alley. It was a cart, but it was filled with skunky smelling rags.
“I can’t get in that,” she complained.
Ivan pushed her in, landing beside her.
“Breathe already,” he chided. “It’s bad, but I’ve smelled worse,” he added, pulling a stinky rag over them, for cover. He let out a low chuckle.
“You’re getting quite the kick out of this, aren’t you?” she pouted.
His dry, arrogant smile answered her question.
“I’m going to need a major bath after this,” she moaned.
“I won’t argue with that.”
She shot him a scowl.
They cautiously peeked up over the edge and into the compound. Two ghosts played poker with a ghostly deck of cards.
“You’re cheating,” accused a scrawny ghost.
“I ain’t been cheatin'! You take it back,” demanded a short, chubbier ghost.
“I won’t,” the scrawny one goaded. The chubby one responded by throwing his cards at the scrawny one.
A familiar ghost appeared, scolding the players.
“Will the two of you idiots shut the hell up! We got a big operation going on here. Go do your rounds.”
“Duppy!” Meghan asserted coldly. “He confronted Colin and me,” she explained, realizing Ivan wouldn’t understand.
“The secrets keep piling up, don’t they?”
“I’ll explain later,” she huffed.
Footsteps approached.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
“Yes, not a ghost, either,” answered Ivan. “It’s coming our way,” he warned.
They held their breath as the footsteps passed by their rank hiding spot. Meghan took a daring glance over the edge. Whoever it was, they were dressed in a deep red, hooded cloak. They were breathing heavy, like they’d just run hard; the figure stopped for a second, letting their breath calm. After a moment, it continued, stalking around the corner.
Duppy floated haughtily to meet the hooded figure.
“At last,” he said in a growling voice. “’Bout time, too, my employer grows impatient.”
The hooded figure silently took a package from within its robes and laid it on a table sitting in the middle of the hut compound. Meghan’s gut told her it was the Magicante. It was the perfect size to match it.
Duppy hovered over the package, rubbing his hands together greedily. “My employer will be pleased,” he sneered, pointing to an envelope on the table. “Payment in full.”
The hooded figure grasped the envelope emptying the contents; it was a roll of paper. Or maybe an actual scroll; Meghan couldn’t get a close enough look.
“It’s not money,” she muttered, wondering what was so important about those papers that it was worth hurting her brother over.
The cloaked figure indicated he was satisfied and turned to leave. Meghan and Ivan ducked back into their stinky rag hideout until the footsteps of the living person were out of range.
“Don’t know about you,” said Ivan, “but I’ve had enough of stinky rags.” He bounded bravely out of the bin, landing with a soft thud.
“Don’t need to say that twice,” she retorted, following him, although not quite so gracefully. Her confidence was high though, knowing that ghosts couldn’t harm her, and the living figure had left.
Duppy saw them instantly. His mouth turned up in a scowl. “Guard the package,” he ordered in a growl.
“How?” the two poker playing ghosts asked. “We’re ghosts, we can’t touch it.”
“You imbeciles! Maybe they weren’t aware of that. Besides, I wasn’t talking to you.”
Another, very much alive, hooded figure exited one of the huts.
All Meghan could see was th
e figure’s eyes; a fierce shade of blue.
“Okay, wasn’t prepared for that,” breathed out Ivan. “Hope you’re ready for battle.”
“Battle? You do realize I suck at magic, right?”
Ivan rolled his eyes at her. “It’s probably not a good idea to let your opponent know that.”
“Oops!” she grimaced.
“Meghan,” he said in all seriousness. “I haven’t seen what this guy can do, but if I can’t take him you’ll be on your own.”
Meghan knew he was right. “Just tell me what to do.” She let out a shaky breath. This was nothing like fighting bullies for her brother. Someone could get seriously hurt. Mainly her.
“Concentrate. Allow the energy to fill you, and then let it out. Preferably on the other guy, not me, if you don’t mind.”
“This is not a good time for insults, Ivan.”
“I wasn’t. You knock me out by accident, and you’re left…”
“Alone! I get it!” she said heatedly. “I’m not completely stupid, Ivan.”
He shrugged, leaving her side. The hooded figure, who wasn’t much taller than Meghan, observed their every move, all while guarding the package. Ivan worked his way around the inside perimeter of the mud huts.
“No other people,” he mouthed to Meghan. Ivan began his interrogation. “What do you want with that package?” There was no answer.
Meghan crept around the opposite side of the huts, happening across a ghost locked in a cell. “Timothy! What are you doing here?”
“I knew one of you would find me,” he boasted, relieved to see a familiar face.
“Sit tight. I’ll get you out, okay. How are they holding you, Timothy? You’re a ghost.”
“Magic, I guess. I’ve been stuck here two weeks.” Meghan kept her eye on the hooded figure and Ivan, while she tried to free Timothy. The hooded figure stepped closer to the room where Timothy was imprisoned. Meghan did not think it was possible, but Timothy, already dead, turned paler than he already was. He backed into the farthest corner possible.
“Watch out, not nice,” Timothy said, hiding his eyes.
“Sit tight, Timothy. I won’t leave you, okay.”
The Book, The Witches, and the Doorway (Fated Chronicles Book 1) Page 42