by Неизвестный
But now they were in the forest, lying in wait, like a trap—which they were.
Delilah was breathing rapidly, working herself up to hysteria.
Zara grabbed Delilah by the arms and commanded, “Pull yourself together! We're doing this for the good of Edwin. We're doing it for the right reasons.”
Delilah nodded meekly and took a normal breath.
Zara listened for sounds of the woman approaching, but heard nothing yet. The instructions Edwin provided would have led her directly to town, but the ones Zara had sent would lead the girl here, via the long route, to this place in the woods where nobody would witness what happened next.
“I wish you'd reconsider,” Delilah said. “These spells are forbidden for a reason. What if one of them conjures up a daemon? What if the thing we just did, the teleportation, already started the process? The daemon could be tunneling its way up now.”
Zara sneered. “They've got you just where they want you. You don't think the elders practice forbidden magic? Of course they do, but they keep the power all to themselves. They tell us stories about daemons and monsters that destroy, so they don't have to share.”
Delilah whipped her head at a noise, just as a little yellow goat came by, wearing baskets for collecting fruit. The goat stopped, looked at them, then continued on her way.
“She saw,” Delilah said. “The goat saw us here, and she saw all our supplies. We should go back and forget about the whole thing. Let Svetlana come to town. Edwin will figure out soon enough she's a loony.”
Zara pulled more supplies from the bag and began preparing the potion, ignoring Delilah. A dragonfly zipped in front of her, followed by a few more curious dragonflies. Zara muttered a spell for killing poisonous insects, and the dragonflies all dropped to the ground.
Delilah gasped. “Zara! Dragonflies don't hurt anybody.”
“Their weird, pointy little stick bodies give me a headache. And so do you. Now be quiet, I have to concentrate.”
With Delilah distracted by trying to revive the dragonflies, Zara measured out the ingredients and smiled inwardly about her plan.
On his own, Edwin would never figure out Svetlana was a ridiculous idiot, because he was blinded by his own ignorance about the world and how things worked. He'd had his fortune told at a young age—the fortune-telling incident was common knowledge amongst the young women on the island—and the fortune teller had promised him he would love someone from the mainland, and no other.
The fortune teller wasn't even a witch, but a hairy-chinned woman who lived at the edge of the Wetlands and only came to town twice a year. The woman was not psychic at all, but a fraud, who would tell you cheese was jam if you gave her a few credits or some tinned goods. She had no business telling lies around town. Zara considered that perhaps she would take care of the old shrew at some point, permanently, before she could meddle with Edwin's malleable mind again.
Years passed after the fortune-telling incident, and Edwin kept up a keen interest in immigrants from the mainland. Unfortunately for him, the only new women who came to the island were too old or too young, or already married, or simply not interested for other reasons. Edwin became very depressed about his situation, and yet he still refused to pay attention to any girls on the island, despite their efforts to wear pretty dresses to the dances and flirt with him. He couldn't even be bothered to remember their names. And yet, the girls still adored him. From his face, to his voice, to his keen mind, he was the perfect guy, the island's best. That he collected taxes was not the most exciting of careers, but he was headed for greater things, perhaps even mayor.
With the right woman behind him, there were no limits for Edwin. And he had no idea.
Zara knew that by tomorrow, Edwin would be grieving, wondering why his fiancee had not come to him, but as far as Zara was concerned, he deserved what was about to happen. He'd brought it upon himself.
Six months earlier, he'd started writing to some women whose profiles were in a magazine that had washed up with some salvage. He didn't speak or write Russian, so he asked Delilah to translate, and she had, carefully, honestly, and to the best of her abilities, though her Russian was not perfect.
Delilah and Zara shared everything, including the letters.
When Zara read Edwin's words to Svetlana, about all of his longings and feelings, her admiration of him only grew. Without Delilah knowing, Zara started intercepting Svetlana's translated letters. The translations were typed up in English by Delilah, using a typewriter in their shared room, and so Zara substituted her own letters before they were sent on to Edwin.
At first, she did it as a joke, or so she told herself. Svetlana was a silly girl, who did silly things. She and her Russian girlfriends would knit scarves and attach them to trees and signs in the city. They would make elaborate cut-outs of paper and leave them in public libraries, or put anonymous love notes in bottles and leave them on doorsteps. Silliest of all, Svetlana loved poetry. She carried a pad of paper and a pen with her at all times, and wrote poems about nature and found objects, tucking the poems away for people to find. She worked as a coat check girl at a night club, where she deposited poems in people's pockets, hoping someone, a wealthy man, would read one of the poems and fall in love with her.
Svetlana was a ridiculous, silly girl, and Zara didn't think she ought to come to the island, let alone marry Edwin.
Then Zara found herself writing poetry about Edwin, and sending it to him along with the letters.
The borders of reality blurred. In her head, Zara was Svetlana, because she was the true Svetlana Edwin was falling in love with. Upon sending and receiving each new letter, her heart soared and her obsession with Edwin grew.
Now Svetlana was coming to the island, and the truth would be out soon enough. Svetlana's last few letters included bits of broken English, thanks to her night classes. She would learn English, and before long, she would read the typed-up letters Edwin was treasuring, and the two of them would figure out Zara had substituted the letters.
Zara had considered breaking into Edwin's home and stealing the letters, but that wouldn't solve her biggest problem, which was that Edwin would be marrying the Russian woman.
Zara had to get rid of her, sending her back to whence she came. The woman had no right to take Edwin, to intrude upon happy island life. She would bring disaster and disease, and Zara had to stop her. Justice would happen here, in the forest, with only the trees to witness.
Zara ran one of the feathers across her cheek. Soon it would be Edwin, running his finger across her cheek. Soon.
Delilah had finally stopped pleading to go back to the castle. She lay her jacket on the forest floor, and sat down to wait. The dragonflies flitted overhead, keeping a wary distance from Zara.
Zara paced, mentally rehearsing the spell to send the woman back. Back to the sea. To drown.
Of course, she'd told Delilah she'd done the calculations and research to send the woman back to the boat that dropped her off in a guided rowboat, near the island. Delilah didn't have the stomach for true justice, but there was another reason for the lie. Delilah would never even know the woman was dead, and therefore, she would never feel the need to tell. No one would know.
The girls would send Edwin a letter, ostensibly from Svetlana, begging forgiveness. The girl in the letter would say she'd married someone else, in America, perhaps. A traveling businessman had read one of her beautiful poems and taken her away from her life of poverty.
After a reasonable amount of time, allowing Edwin to grieve, Zara would be there for him, understanding exactly how he felt.
And if being oh-so-understanding didn't work, she had potions. She would make him forget, and she would make him love her. The ends justified the means, for true love was the most important thing in the whole world, and what Zara felt for Edwin was true, truer than the sky and truer than the ocean.
Someone was coming down the trail.
Zara made fists and shook herself with excitement. She k
icked Delilah to get up.
The Russian woman came down the path toward them, looking around in awe at the trees overhead. She had light brown hair, pale skin, and way too much makeup. Zara had assumed the woman had lied about her age, but she did appear to be about twenty, which gave Zara the tiniest of pauses.
The woman probably thought the girls who stood in front of her were part of a welcoming committee, and she waved at them.
Svetlana's smile was so pretty and trusting. A fierce envy took hold of Zara, obliterating any thoughts she'd had of backing down.
Zara began humming a song that made all the birds stop chirping. Even the leaves stopped rustling in the breeze. Zara lifted her shirt and cut herself again with the knife. The other supplies lay around her, arranged on the jacket on the ground.
The Russian girl carried no luggage, but wore a backpack. She stopped walking, about ten feet from the witches, and stared in wonder, first at the girl who'd just cut her stomach, and then at her own hands, which were turning invisible, from the fingertips up.
From where she stood trembling behind Zara, Delilah murmured, “You're getting so good at the spell,” just as the Russian woman blinked out of existence. She was no longer there in the woods, but off to exist elsewhere.
Zara dropped the knife and wiped her hands. There was nothing on her hands, but it was a cleansing motion, a signifier of completion, that she liked to do after all her spells. “Back to town?” she said to Delilah. “I'll buy you dinner.”
Delilah wrapped her arms around herself. “I'd rather go straight home, but… I need to go to the bathroom first.”
Zara rolled her eyes. “Fine. I'll walk on up ahead, just run and catch up.”
Zara reached for the items on the ground, but Delilah said she'd tidy everything up. “I have special compartments in my bag for everything.”
“And you want things a certain way,” Zara said. “Fine by me.”
* * *
After Zara had disappeared, up the trail, Delilah did not look for a fallen log to use for going to the bathroom, because she didn't need to go.
Instead, she checked the remainder of the supplies: the tail hairs from the unicorn; the owl feathers; and a dozen other things, arranged on a white linen cloth on the ground.
She'd never done the spell before, but she was a good study, as adept at picking up a tune heard once or twice as she was at learning new languages. She did not have an eidetic memory, but she was good. After wiping the knife on some nearby leaves, she lifted her shirt and placed the cut.
Delilah performed the teleportation spell for her first time, using the remainder of the ingredients, which turned to dust when she was finished. Zara would be angry about having to procure more supplies, and angry about what Delilah had done.
But, in a few days, Delilah knew her friend would realize what she'd done was wrong, and that Delilah had actually saved her, saved her very soul.
Delilah looked around the forest. She was still alone, and feared the spell hadn't worked, until she looked down. The Russian girl lay on the ground, on the dirt and leaves. Her backpack was gone and her clothes were wet. She wasn't breathing.
Delilah screamed.
She shook the girl, trying to wake her, then attempted to resuscitate her, blowing into her mouth and pressing on her heart. It was no use; the girl was dead.
Zara emerged from the bushes, out of breath from running back.
When Delilah saw the look of rage on Zara's face, she screamed a second time.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Edwin
Time: just after the blast that knocked everyone out, before Max and Ocean came up to the roof
Edwin was not a violent person, and he certainly didn't believe in hitting girls, but he was thinking about making an exception for Zara. Not only had she exposed herself as the person responsible for killing Svetlana, but she'd just howled in outrage about killing his new friend, Opal Button. Neither of the girls had done anything wrong, except show up on the island, and cross paths with the witches.
He lay quietly on the castle roof, near the turret, and listened to the three witches talk, argue, and plan. From what he overheard, he learned that the witches had set off a spell that would knock everyone out for an hour. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but they were talking as if the spell had just happened, and they had an hour to locate Opal and the orb that had been in the statue's mouth.
Opal wasn't next to him, where she'd been before the blast. He assumed, like the witches, that she'd gotten hold of the orb and gone to hide somewhere in the castle. He had to get to her before they did, yet they had spells to locate people, and they knew the castle. What did Edwin have? A pocketknife and an encyclopedic knowledge of local tax law.
His only advantage was surprise. He was conscious, for whatever reason, and they didn't know.
The girls started walking his way, so he shut his eyes and tried to breathe deeply and contentedly, as though asleep.
Zara said, “Look at all the trouble you've caused, my sweet Edwin.”
She touched his cheek, which he wasn't expecting. He recoiled in disgust inside.
She said, “Did he just move? Delilah, did he?”
“I don't think so. Why don't you pinch him?”
Edwin felt conflicting emotions. He could lie there and pretend to be unconscious, waiting for a better opportunity, or he could spring up and… what? Punch out a bunch of girls?
As he argued with himself, the girls argued with each other, until finally, Carly said, “I'll watch him. You two go look for the orb.”
Edwin listened as the other two argued, then left the roof to get more restraints for tying up the elders. He'd have to make his move before they tied him up with those awful vine restraints, and he felt confident he could knock out Carly. He would spring up, catch her off guard, and knock her out before she could cast a spell. Any second now. Yup, any time.
Carly said, “Edwin, I know you're not asleep. You're lying within a protected circle, so I'm pretty sure that's why the blast didn't put you under. We have ancient circles next to the turrets, for times of war. Most people forget about them, but I spend a lot of time up here, gardening.”
He didn't respond.
“I know you can hear me.”
She was calling his bluff, but he kept his eyes closed and his breathing calm.
“Edwin,” she said. “I don't think Opal's in the castle at all. I don't feel her presence. Do you know where she might be? I'm worried about her.”
He began answering her questions in his mind. Sure you are. You're worried about finding her so you can kill her.
“No! I'm on your side,” Carly said.
Stop reading my thoughts.
“Stop broadcasting them at me over your panic frequency and I will.”
He jumped up, ready to strike. Carly moved her hands and everything went black.
* * *
“Edwin.” Carly slapped his cheeks. “You've been out for almost an hour. Wake up, you've got to help me.”
He opened his eyes slowly. He didn't know his brain could hurt so much.
“Carly,” he said. “We've got to stop Zara. She's going to hurt Opal. I know she killed Svetlana.”
She pulled at his arms to get him up. “Come, over to the bench. Your legs will be weak for a while, but you can sit. I'm on your side, I want to stop Zara too.”
He followed her to the bench and sat. The elder witches who had been doing the chant around the statue had been moved, and bound together with the green vines. None of them had their eyes open, and they were very still.
Edwin said to Carly, “If you're on my side, why'd you knock me out?”
“You were going to punch me out. I had to strike first. I didn't think you'd be out so long, but you must have been affected somewhat by the original blast.”
He rubbed his head. “I don't feel so good.”
Someone behind them shrieked, “What are you doing?”
It was Delilah, comi
ng toward them from a doorway, and Zara wasn't with her.
Carly said, “Calm down, Dee! This has to stop, now.”
Delilah stamped her foot. “Not until we get the orb! The orb first, then we'll deal with Zara, that was the plan!”
Carly moved her hands again, uttered something complicated that was mostly consonants, and Delilah wilted, falling gently to the ground.
Carly said to Edwin, “We'll say she fainted. If anyone asks, she fainted, and I do not know that spell.”
“Fainted,” he said.
His head was clearing up a little, but his legs were weak, so they remained on the bench, and he asked Carly more questions about what had happened.
They were discussing Zara and what to do about her when someone yelled, “Freeze! Put your hands in the air!”
Edwin raised his hands, overjoyed to hear the sheriff's voice.
Max yelled, “Now Edwin, you stay right where you are. You, Carly, turn around!”
Carly turned slowly.
“Where's Delilah!”
Carly said, “What?”
As they spoke, Edwin realized Max was wrong. She thought Delilah was the one responsible for everything horrible that had happened over the last week. He tried to find the words to tell her, but before he could, Zara came out of the doorway and bashed Max on the head.
Max dropped to the ground. She didn't appear to have anyone with her for backup.
What happened next was a blur.
Carly stood and made some hand gestures and sounds, but Zara flung off whatever spell it was. Edwin's body went numb, and he felt himself falling over, slumping on the bench, unable to move.
He listened helplessly as Carly was beaten by Zara, then bound by her in the green vines. Zara grabbed Carly's limp body and dragged her over to where Delilah and Max lay, between some potted plants.
His head throbbed, and he fought to stay conscious.
Zara appeared over him, and now, they were face to face, just the two of them. She smiled, and the sight of her teeth sent a terror down his spine.
The world blurred, and now he lay on his back along the garden bench, unable to move.