She drew a slow breath. On the upside, she’d disarmed Puppet, if you counted smashing it to planks against the side of a tree.
Still, Katybird Hearn had stolen her book. Fumbling a shaky hand toward her back pocket, she discovered one of her wands—the newer one—had survived the crash. Stealthily, she tucked it under her shirt. The last thing she needed was Tyler getting all worked up over seeing that.
Tyler offered a hand. “Can you walk?”
Delpha waved him off. “Yeah, I can manage.”
Delpha squinted into the trees. In the moonlight, a clear trail was visible where Puppet had bowled through the woods. That would make it easier to find her way back to familiar forest, at least. The cool night air soothed Delpha’s nerves. It made her sharper. She straightened her flannel shirt.
“How do you feel about huntin’ something horrible, Tyler?” She’d rather leave Tyler behind, but if she did have a concussion, it might be a good idea to have him along. It wouldn’t do to pass out in the middle of nowhere again.
Tyler’s eyes widened. “Which one? Mothman? Bigfoot? The Wampus Cat? Lizard Man?”
Delpha gave him an arch glance. “A thief. But first, we need to build a fire.”
KATYBIRD BLUNDERED HER WAY THROUGH A TANGLED chorus of night, spooking at every new noise—twigs snapping, coyotes wailing, and spring peepers chirping from nearby vernal pools. Her teeth chattered as she tripped through the shadowy blackberry brambles, the flashlight on her cell having long since sucked her battery dry. Why did the forest have to be so messy? She hadn’t been in the woods at night since she’d dropped out of Brownies. She’d said camping badges were overrated then, and she hated the mosquitoes every bit as much now. Being lost as a goose didn’t help matters.
Every thirty minutes or so, Katy’s hands shone enough to illuminate her signature purple Chucks getting completely trashed as she plunged through funky-smelling mud. She could actually feel her wavy hair mushrooming out around her head in the fog. “If I could talk to the spirits of the forest, we’d be havin’ some words about this humidity,” she muttered. She whistled softly to Podge, who waddled behind her. “Keep up, buddy,” she chided him, mostly because bossiness made her feel a shade less nervous.
Before she’d left the cabin, her plan had seemed so easy: Track down Puppet, make sure she hadn’t murdered Delpha, and be back before sunrise.
But now, Katybird realized Delpha had made tracking look deceptively easy. Legs wailing with fatigue, Katy pushed herself to the top of a hill and tried to identify something recognizable on the horizon.
Podge, growing impatient, leaped from her shoulder and scuttled off into the shadows. Katy cried after him. Much like his mistress, Podge was mostly house raised and ill equipped to survive the forest. “Come back, Podge! You’ll get eaten by a … somethin’!” Katy set off to find him, then realized after a few steps she had no idea which way he’d gone.
She stood frozen for several long moments, staring into the darkness. Katy wished she had a rewind button for this entire day. A now-familiar tingle crept up her fingers, and Katybird whispered into the night air, “How about now, forest spirits? Am I still not good enough for you? ’Cause this would be an awful nice time for you to make yourselves useful.”
She remembered her vision of Puppet as a tree and felt a flicker of hope. Was that communicating with a tree? If it had been, maybe she wasn’t a lost cause, despite her unique biology. She had nothing to lose if she tried again. Katy held her luminous hands out and tried to focus her thoughts on the forest. Help me. I’m lost. Help me.
After a few seconds, a small neon light floated out of the mist several feet away, then blinked off again. Katy barely dared to breathe and kept concentrating. Help me. Oh, please, she thought. The pulsing glow appeared again, this time closer. Then closer still.
Something small and buzzing collided with the side of her face, then tickled across her cheek. It was then that Katy realized her green-glowing hands were attracting lightning bugs, and she shrieked, swatting madly as another tried to land in her hair. It was like nature was laughing, and she was the joke.
Katy muttered a furious string of dark words. When that wasn’t satisfying enough, she kicked hard at a rock but failed to make contact. Off-balance, Katy’s free right arm pinwheeled as she tipped backward and hit the ground with an oof, then kept rolling, trying to cradle the McGill family spellbook with her left arm. She tumbled in a whirl of night sky, long grass, and flying limbs, bag careening after her, until finally sliding to an awkward stop at the bottom of the hill. Everything hurt.
Gingerly, Katy felt for Delpha’s book and found it still intact. Through the drone of cicadas came familiar chirping, and a fuzzy raccoon tail brushed Katy’s cheek. Podge sat on his haunches and eyed her in disapproval. I could have died from a stupid temper tantrum, she chided herself.
If she’d broken her neck, how long would she have lain there? She didn’t have to try hard to imagine her mother’s reaction, or her grandparents’, because she’d already seen them after Echo’s accident: wastebaskets full of used Kleenexes, wringing hands, plates of untouched casseroles brought over by the neighbors—Katy owed her family better than that. And besides, she owed Delpha McGill an apology, if she was still alive.
Probably, it had been Delpha’s magic that made the vision of Puppet happen. And McGill magic again, when she’d accidentally turned herself into a frog. Fine. Delpha could have her magic book back. Katy was done with it.
Forcing herself up, Katy noticed a faint red flicker ahead through the trees. A bonfire, probably, not far off. Katybird gasped in relief and became suddenly aware of what a mess her clothes and hair must look like. She wrinkled her nose.
“C’mon, Podge,” she murmured. “No runnin’ off this time.” Cringing at every snapping twig, Katy picked her way toward the light, Podge trotting at her heels.
After walking a good while, she drew close enough to hear the fire crackling. Katy’s shin crashed against something solid. Her fingers glowed again, illuminating a low, rotting wooden fence. It seemed to encircle a big, round clearing in the woods. Katy drew her hands into her sleeves, ignoring their stinging, and scrambled over the broken fence. On the other side were small boulders, jutting from the forest floor and arranged in a sprawling concentric pattern. Leaning close to inspect one of them, Katy realized the rocks were pale, eroded tombstones, glowing a sickly mottled gray among the trees.
She shuddered and walked a bit farther. The fire was only a hundred yards ahead now, near the center of the graveyard. Who would come out here at night? The place had long since fallen out of memory and into disrepair. A thin veil of cloud peeled away from the moon, and on one of the tombstones Katy could faintly make out the words El-zabet- McG-ll. Her foot scuffed something slick. A grimy marble marker read Wise Woman Cemetery: Journey in Peace.
Katy frowned thoughtfully. “Wise woman” was an old euphemism for “witch.” A few more steps revealed another tombstone with the name Caroli- Hearn, 1809–1872. One of Katy’s ancestors. The breeze shifted, filling her lungs with acrid smoke, and Katy’s focus returned to the bonfire.
Creeping forward like a clumsy cat, Katybird drew closer, avoiding stepping on the graves. Soon, she was close enough to make out two figures hauling planks to the smoldering fire. Katy recognized the boy, Tyler Nimble, first, and then her heart skipped as his tall companion turned. Delpha was still alive!
Katybird sighed and sagged against a headstone, relieved. But what were Delpha and Tyler doing? Dull thuds echoed around the tombstones as Delpha lobbed another heavy board at the bonfire. And Katy’s heart plummeted as she realized who they were burning.
From the look of it, Delpha had started the bonfire with brush and was now collecting broken bits of Puppet to feed the blaze.
The memory of the beautiful sprawling tree flashed across Katy’s mind, and she couldn’t shake the feeling she was watching something alive go up in sparks.
Before she knew it, Katybird
was tearing across the graveyard, screaming like a cougar. “Stop! Stop that!” Katybird hollered, shaking with rage. Delpha and Tyler gaped as Katy charged toward them and knocked the plank from Delpha’s hands. “You … you rotten, no good, low-down … warthog!” Katy screeched.
Delpha tensed, her dark eyes flashing. “Katybird? You got a lot of nerve showing up again,” Delpha growled. “Where’s my book?”
Normally, Katybird would die from shame over what she’d done, and certainly she’d melt under Delpha’s glare. But she couldn’t help it. The idea of such a perfect, living creature going up in smoke wrenched her heart, and she glowered right back at Delpha.
“Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size, Delpha McGill, instead of destroying something so helpless?” Katy swallowed hard and drew herself to her full height. “Don’t you dare put another board on that fire!”
Delpha blinked at Katy like a calf staring at a new fence.
“Why the heck not?”
Katy scooped up Podge and glared. “Because it’s murder!”
PAIN SEARED DELPHA’S HAND AS SHE TEETERED too close to the flames. Sticking the offended fingers into her mouth, Delpha realized what annoyed her about Katybird Hearn: The girl had no respect for other people’s plans. Instead, Katy popped up at all the wrong times, sidetracking Delpha and making her life a misery.
Delpha pulled her burned finger from her mouth and let another plank drop from her free hand. Sparks flew from the coals.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Katy shrieked. She dashed forward and kicked the plank into the dewy weeds, where it landed with a hollow thunk, still smoking. “You’re a murderer, that’s what you are, Delpha McGill!” She spat out Delpha’s name like a cuss word.
Delpha still couldn’t get her bearings. This conversation, if you could call getting yelled at a conversation, wasn’t making sense. Murderer? When she found her voice, she fought to keep it calm. “You liketa killed me, Katybird Hearn, spookin’ the shed with me inside it. Who exactly am I ’sposed to be murderin’?”
“You’re killing Puppet!” Katy sobbed.
Delpha’s head still throbbed from the crash, and it wasn’t helping her patience. “Puppet ain’t alive. Puppet is a pile of boards, which I was lucky enough to un-hex before it rattled my head clean off, thank you kindly. Now leave my fire alone.” Delpha tried counting to ten in her head, but Katybird’s nonsense was working on Delpha’s frayed nerves like a cat’s tongue on a chalkboard.
To make matters worse, Tyler Nimble’s ears had perked up at the word “hex,” and now his mouth worked open and shut, squeaking like an excited catfish. “Hex? You mean, you’re a w—”
“Zip it, Nimble,” Delpha ordered, wincing at her slipup. Last thing she needed was the Mouth of the South chattering to everybody about her magic.
“You gave it a mind,” Katy continued, apparently not caring their magical cover had been blown. Her bottom lip quivered. “You made it remember it was a living thing. An’ now, you’re killing it!”
Delpha started to understand. The silly girl had imagined Puppet had feelings like a person. Delpha snorted. Typical. That sort of kiddie fantasy was an outrageous luxury. Delpha had spent her whole life facing hard truths: Food costs money, dads don’t stick around, life is hard work, grannies get sick, and the tooth fairy isn’t real. Delpha’s jaw muscles worked.
“If I don’t burn this wood, how am I gonna make sure it doesn’t cause any more trouble? What if some magic hangs around in the wood somehow? D’you want the whole town after us on a witch hunt? Or didn’t your mama tell you that’s how the truce started?”
Tyler bounced on the balls of his feet. “Delpha has a good point, there, Katybird. People in the Hollow don’t love weird stuff. There could be torches and pitchforks and—”
“Nimble!” Delpha growled.
“Sorry,” Tyler mumbled.
“You should have thought about that before you brought it to life!” Katy sputtered at Delpha. “You don’t get to create something and then throw it away just because it don’t make sense!” She stepped in front of the fire, blocking Delpha’s way. The girl was bringing ten gallons’ worth of passion to a useless argument, and Delpha couldn’t make head nor tail of it.
“Hearn.”
“It’s Katybird! An’ you did a terrible thing to that poor tree.”
“It was a shed.”
Katy reached inside Delpha’s stolen satchel and pulled out the familiar leather spellbook. Delpha’s heart lurched in her chest. She started to reach for it, but Katybird lunged toward the crackling fire. “If you don’t stop burning Puppet … I’ll torch your family’s spellbook.”
Despite the blazing fire, Delpha’s body went cold. Behind her, Tyler sucked in a sharp breath.
“I’m not playin’.” Katy lowered her extended arm. As Katy dangled the book over the dancing flames, her fair skin grew pink and her arm hairs curled and singed.
Delpha’s self-control slid beyond reach as white curls of steam rose from the bottom edge of the book. All those spells—the entire history of McGill magic—were sickeningly close to the flames, along with Delpha’s hopes of making her life easier for once. The wand was out of her pocket before she could think, her fingers tight as she leveled it at Katy. “Give … it … back. Now.”
Katybird’s eyes widened, but she doubled down. “Your book ain’t any good to me.” She lifted her pinky finger, then her ring finger, and then her eyebrows, as if to say, Should I keep going?
Tyler stumbled in between them, shaky hands lifted like he thought he was the witch whisperer. “C’mon now, y’all. You don’t want to hurt each other!”
Katybird seemed to regain her senses a little, biting her lip. She didn’t protest as Tyler nudged her elbow away from the licking flames. “Katybird, why doncha give Delpha her creepy ol’ book back,” Tyler soothed. “And Delpha … I don’t quite follow what you did wrong, but—”
Delpha leaned over and snatched the spellbook from Katybird’s trembling hand. “That’s because I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”
Katybird gave a chilly laugh and lifted an accusing finger. “Delpha knows what she’s done wrong. Puppet—”
Suddenly, the tips of Katybird’s fingers shot lime-green sparks as her hands glowed all the way to the wrists. The air around Katy crackled with a chaotic energy that made Delpha’s neck hair stand on end. It felt like lightning about to strike.
Tyler jumped back. “Uh, Katy … your hands?”
Delpha’s survival instincts kicked in. She shoved Tyler away and hit the ground rolling, cradling her spellbook and letting her elbows take the impact. “Stay down, Tyler! She’s throwin’ a hex!” Scrambling behind a tombstone for cover, Delpha knelt in a patch of soggy grass. Tyler obeyed, wide-eyed.
Katy stumbled toward them. “It ain’t what you think! Delpha, I don’t want to hurt you!” Delpha glanced around the headstone and saw Katy’s hands flaring brighter.
“Yeah right,” Delpha muttered, one hand fumbling the spellbook open at the middle and the other yanking her wand from her pocket. “That girl’s harebrained as a soup sandwich.” Beside her, Tyler Nimble’s eyes bugged.
“Maybe y’all don’t have to fight,” he whispered.
“Hush!”
Delpha peeked around the headstone to see Katybird’s hands crackling electric green a few feet away, but Katy was attempting to conceal them inside her shirt. Her voice whined.
“Delpha, I never should’ve messed with your book. I just … when I saw you burnin’ Puppet … Let me explain!” Delpha could feel the helter-skelter mess of Katy’s power now, creeping in waves across her own skin and jumbling her insides. With a glance down at her spellbook, Delpha put a finger on the first hex she laid eyes on—one that read “Wend-to-War.” It was careless, but she had no other choice. Her pulse thudded as her lips formed hoarse words:
“At which hour mine kin art dead an’ gone
And findeth me fighting dark forces all high-lone,
> I calleth up the spirits of those in the grave
To cometh to mine own defense.
Ariseth once more and wend to war!”
A shock wave of dark energy mushroomed outward from Delpha, knocking her sideways several feet. As she landed hard, Delpha saw Katybird lift her hand reflexively against Delpha’s oncoming spell. Sparks flew from Katy’s palm and littered the graves that encircled them in showers of cinders.
Delpha and Katy stared at each other, panting. Their magic battle had ended before it even started. For a few seconds, Katy sat with her legs sprawled, eyes wide as saucers, staring back at Delpha as the glow of her hands subsided. Delpha lay motionless, too, her ears ringing and her whole body one pounding heartbeat. Tyler, curled on the ground behind the tombstone, was the first to break the silence. “I may need a change of jeans,” he groaned into the dirt. “Y’all need to learn to use your feeling words.”
“Hush, Tyler,” Delpha ordered, body tensing.
All was quiet, but the air felt wrong. Delpha looked over at Katybird, whose knees were pulled to her chest. Katy’s eyes darted around them like something bad might come creeping out of the woods. Delpha sensed it, too. Death.
Cold dread trickled through her veins like creek water, and Delpha became sharply aware of her surroundings. The tombstones had been garden-variety markers a few minutes before, but now they loomed. They watched. It was a stupid notion, but Delpha couldn’t shake it. She felt small and helpless, like prey. She gripped her spellbook close.
Something was happening out there in the darkness—roots were ripped from earth, and stone ground against stone. Delpha couldn’t place the sounds of scratching and digging. The dirt under her hands shifted and bulged. Terror surged in her throat, filling her mouth with the taste of acid.
Grabbing Tyler’s shirt, she was running before her legs could organize themselves. Delpha stumbled pell-mell toward the dying fire embers beside the pile of Puppet, and Katy followed suit. They huddled together. Katy felt less like a threat to Delpha now, maybe because she was shaking with fear, too. Then the strange noises settled, leaving only the breeze hissing across dry leaves.
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