Doubt hummed in Katy’s ear. Everyone here is doing their part. ’Cept you, of course. Katy tightened her stomach and shifted uncomfortably on Puppet’s wooden floor. She’d try extra hard. They’d find the well water, they’d find her “bond,” and then Katybird Hearn would start pulling her weight. She’d find Podge, too, and soon enough, they’d be safe and sound in her bedroom, snuggled under blankets.
We’ll see, Doubt responded.
HAIR ESCAPED DELPHA’S BRAID AND CLUNG TO her damp cheeks in ribbons. Her throbbing head protested as she concentrated on Puppet’s stacked-stone legs. After nearly toppling the shed a dozen times that morning, she was starting to get a feel for guiding Puppet across the uneven terrain with her magic. She had to feel the stones with her mind, then pretend hard they were magnets, attracting and repelling and never actually touching one another. It required total focus—one stray thought might send them cartwheeling over an escarpment or into a rocky gully. Clutching her wand helped. With it, her magic felt more focused. And way more drained.
This was taking a lot longer than she’d have liked. But she’d rest once they reached Clement’s house. Tyler or Katybird could learn to dowse for water, and Delpha could lay down somewhere quiet and go over the Reverse-Curse again with a fine-toothed comb.
She was good at plans. The girl who didn’t need anyone. That was Delpha McGill. If you had a good enough plan, being alone was easy. Even so, she wished someone could see her carving her way up Graystone Mountain with nothing but a wand. Katy and Tyler didn’t count. Not Mama, either. Mama’d combust on the spot if she saw Delpha doing that forbidden thing they didn’t talk about. Who did that leave?
Without meaning to, Delpha’s mind flashed to the worn denim jacket again, and then to the wolf-handled knife in her pocket. Wouldn’t her long-lost daddy feel foolish once he realized exactly who he’d abandoned? Or how little his absence had mattered? With a tiny thrill, Delpha pictured a flicker of regret in his eyes. As she did, her concentration flagged, and Puppet lurched violently to the left, and a low-hanging tree branch sheared several shingles off the outhouse roof.
“Dang it!” Delpha cursed at herself, heart still racing from the close call, and she reclaimed her focus. Up, up, up the mountain they went.
As Puppet neared the peak, a massive black cloud floated into their path—gnats! Delpha gagged as one collided with the back of her throat, and another stabbed her square in the eyeball. Through watery eyes, she saw a long dirt road ahead and veered onto it. Delpha clenched her teeth and dug Puppet’s back legs into the dirt, like brakes. With a groan and a joint-crunching thud, Puppet flipped onto its back and skidded across the road, spewing stones and clods of red clay before grating to a halt.
Delpha couldn’t breathe. Tyler and Katybird lay sprawled on top of her in a jumble, banged up but alive.
“Delpha McGill—tell me you didn’t do that on purpose!” Katybird moaned. “How hard can it be to stop without crashing?”
Delpha licked her finger and fished the gnat from her eye, then slumped, hollow with exhaustion. “I stopped so we wouldn’t crash.”
Tyler’s muffled voice reverberated against the wall. “Are we there yet?”
“I dunno. I hope so.”
The three of them climbed out, groaning and massaging various bumps and bruises. Tyler glanced around. “Hey, nice work, Delpha! Clement’s house is just up the way.” He motioned along the sloping dirt road.
“Let’s drag Puppet to the side of the road and walk the rest of the way,” Delpha said. “In case anyone comes along.”
Tyler and Katybird helped Delpha roll the outhouse into the ditch. Delpha released her spell on Puppet then, letting it collapse into boards. Tyler went behind some trees to change his tattered clothes, and then they all trudged up the road. The packed dirt beneath Delpha’s feet swam, and she staggered with exhaustion.
“Want to lean on my shoulder, Delpha?” Tyler offered, frowning.
“Nope.”
“How ’bout Katy’s?”
Delpha shot him a look.
He wilted, then recovered. “Oh! Listen. We’ve gotta be polite when we go in to meet Clement.”
“I’m always polite,” Katybird protested.
“Not just polite. Like, we have to be extra gentle,” Tyler insisted, with a pointed look in Delpha’s direction. “Clement’s kinda eccentric. Don’t get me wrong—he’s the nicest fella you’ll ever meet. He’s just diff’rent. People make him nervous.”
“Fine. You talk to him. But don’t tell him why we’re dowsing for the well. Or about Katy’s messed-up magic. Or the zombies, or any witches at all.” Delpha sighed hard, rubbing her temples and ignoring her growling belly. If you want something done right, do it yourself. “Never mind. I’ll talk to him. Y’all stay here.”
A cluster of ramshackle buildings loomed ahead. Tyler hesitated, then pointed at a monstrous red barn with peeling paint. “He’ll be in there.”
Delpha stowed her wand and book in her satchel, then set off for the barn, careful not to trip over exposed live oak roots. Under her breath, she rehearsed how she’d make her request to Tyler’s uncle. But as soon as she stepped inside the barn, her words vaporized.
The sweet, sharp aroma of hewn wood hung in the air, and the ground was littered with curled shavings and sawdust. In the back right corner were circular saws, jigsaws, and about every other kind of saw Delpha could dream of. Along the length of the right wall, row upon row of carving chisels dangled from hooks. Beneath them, on a shelf, wooden bowls with dogwood blossoms and strands of ivy etched into their sides gleamed beside an open can of linseed oil.
Delpha’s hand darted out to touch one, and, finding it mostly dry, she raised it to the light to examine it, turning it slowly and looking for the telltale wobble of poor symmetry. A low whistle escaped between her teeth. It was almost perfect.
Someone coughed behind her, and Delpha nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun, feeling sheepish, but managed not to drop the bowl.
“I’m Clement. Can I help you?” Tyler’s uncle looked flinchingly at the ground, hair falling into his face. His nervous sway put Delpha in mind of a sweet-natured dog that someone had kicked too many times. He still didn’t look up.
“I’m a friend of your nephew, Tyler. He said you know how to dowse. I wondered if you’d take a minute to teach us.”
“Sure, sure,” Clement said, glancing up. He wiped his hands on his apron, even though they already looked clean. “Let me just, uh, let me just …” He shuffled in a circle. The wall behind him was plastered with dozens of maps. Unlike the rest of the tidy workshop, they’d been fixed to the wall haphazardly and marked with frantic circles and lines.
Clement raked his mop of fire-hued curls away from his face, frowning as if looking for something. It was the sort of long hair that wasn’t long on purpose but had accidentally grown right past haircut day. Eccentric, like Tyler had said. Tyler’s warning to be gentle rang in her head, but they needed Katy’s magic fixed an hour ago.
“Listen, we’re in a hurry.”
Clement put a hand to his chin, like he might cry. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Folks usually have appointments.”
The clock radio on the worktable switched from songs to a cheerful report of “today’s annual Spring Fling in our very own downtown Howler’s Hollow!” No reports of zombies. Yet. Delpha breathed a sigh. There was still time, then. If she could only get this guy to calm down and cooperate …
“Um,” Delpha blurted, pulling her own ornate carving knife from her pocket and waving it. “I like carvin’. Maybe I’ll come back for a class sometime, and I’ll make an appointment then. How’s that? But today’s sort of an emergency.”
Clement gazed at her oddly for several moments, then brightened. “That’s a nice knife you got there.”
Delpha bit back her impatience. Tyler’s uncle seemed to be calming down, at least. “I’m partial to it. Needs sharpening, though. Been carvin’ a lot lately.”
&nbs
p; “May I?” He held out an open palm. “I could fix ’er up for ya.”
Delpha hesitated, then handed her knife over, hoping to speed him along.
Clement took the knife and studied the ornate handle. He sucked in a long breath, glancing up at Delpha with nervous eyes. Then, with shaky hands, he unfolded the knife and studied the blade. He reached up to a shelf, took down a whetstone, and drizzled it with mineral oil, then set to work. “ ’S good to keep ’er real sharp so you don’t cut yourself,” he said in a soft voice, glancing up at Delpha with his mournful eyes. “Nothin’ worse’n a dull blade.”
Delpha scowled. “I know that. I just ain’t had the chance to do it lately, that’s all.”
“ ’Course, ’course,” Clement said, clearing his throat and bobbing his head. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it. You prob’ly keep real busy with school, I reckon.”
“I whittle lots to help make ends meet, actually,” Delpha blurted. Why did she say that? Her blasted pride was throwing her off track.
Clement frowned hard. “It ain’t too bad, anyway. I can tell you take good care of it. Real, real good.” He worked for a couple of minutes in silence, moving from the whetstone to a smoother ceramic stone, and finally a worn leather strop. Delpha tried to look uninterested, but she watched his expert movements like a hawk, making a mental note to save up for her own ceramic stone. Someday. Clement picked up a half-carved wooden bird from his worktable and tested the carving blade for sharpness. For a minute, Delpha forgot about the zombies and magic and the Hearn well, mesmerized as a sparrow evolved from the pine in Clement’s hands. Finally satisfied, he closed Delpha’s knife and handed it over. “Sharp as a razor. She’s a real beauty.”
“Thanks,” Delpha muttered gruffly.
“You can take the bird, too, if y’like. Or come back sometime again with Tyler, and I’ll show you how to carve your own.”
If I survive the zombies today and get my magic in order, maybe Mama an’ me really can have enough money for me to take lessons, Delpha wished.
“No charge. It ain’t any trouble,” Clement added, like he’d read her mind.
“Maybe. Now about the water-witchin’ …”
“Right. I can teach y’all to dowse.”
He loped toward the door, leaving Delpha to run after him. Outside, Clement busied himself with collecting a Y-shaped tree branch. Delpha crossed the circular yard to the place Tyler and Katy sat munching granola bars with tired faces.
“Hearn, how are your hands?” Delpha whispered, glancing over her shoulder nervously.
“They glowed while you were in the barn,” Katy admitted. Her lips were pale. “Liketa screamed bloody murder they stung so bad.”
Tyler nodded in concern. “Her face went white as chalk.”
Delpha smelled their food, and a wave of hunger hit her. She’d been so distracted by the workshop, she hadn’t realized how dizzy she was.
Tyler dug around in his messy bag. “Want a box of raisins or a Pop-Tart?”
“Yes!” Delpha yelped. She snatched both and bolted the entire box of raisins like a starved animal. Halfway through devouring a sleeve of Pop-Tarts, Delpha heard Clement call out that he was ready. Tyler gazed at the dowsing rod wistfully. Delpha crammed the other pastry into her mouth.
“Katybird should rest,” she observed, spewing crumbs. “I need to keep eating. Nimble, you’re up. Go learn to dowse.”
Tyler beamed, leaping up and bounding over to Clement.
“That was nice of you,” Katy said, dimples sprouting in approval.
“It’s not nice,” Delpha grumbled. “It’s delegating.” But behind the box of Pop-Tarts, she found herself smiling, too.
“All right,” Clement instructed in a reedy voice. “First, cut you a forked tree limb, like this. Then … you wanna grip the two handles with your hands”—he demonstrated with a fresh green hazel bough—“and let the end of the stick pull you along.”
Tyler scrunched his face. “Huh?”
Clement squinted at the sky. “You ever been fishin’? You know the feelin’ when a fish nibbles at the line? The dowsin’ rod feels kindly the same when it’s found water. You follow the bite.”
After several tries, Tyler seemed to catch the hang of it, eventually navigating his way across some rotting boards that covered a hole in the ground. His foot went through. He yanked it out and shook a foul, gray goop from the bottom of his tennis shoe. “What the heck?” he howled.
“Well, Tyler, you dowsed and found my kitchen cesspit,” Clement praised.
“You mean I’m standin’ in … you know what?”
Delpha tried not to laugh. “Kitchen cesspit, you peckerwood. It’s runoff from the sink. Old houses have ’em. Looks like you’re a pro, Tyler. Time to go.”
Clement put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder, serious. “Underground pipes can trick you. Best to fix in your head which water you want to find.”
Before Tyler could respond, a grating BEEEEEEEEP sounded from the radio in the barn, signaling the city’s emergency alert system. Delpha and Katybird exchanged looks, then raced into the workshop to hear the message that followed. A tinny voice buzzed from the speaker in announcement:
“The Pisgah National Forest issues the following warning to Howler’s Hollow residents: Evidence of unusual large predator behavior has been found on several hiking trails, including Memorial Gap, Skip to My Lou, Woven Branch, and Murphy’s Pass. Citizens are advised to stay close to main streets or public areas. If you see wildlife, do not approach it. Be safe, and feel free to enjoy our yearly Spring Fling.”
Delpha and Katy exchanged glances. “The zombies are spreading out,” Katy whimpered. Her hands plunged deep into her hoodie pockets, but the light peeked out at her wrists anyway.
In her mind, Delpha traced a straight line from the Wise Woman Cemetery to the Hearn farm, then to the hiking trails mentioned on the radio. They were just several miles north of Main Street. “They’re working closer to downtown,” Delpha agreed. Her throat tightened.
The girls dashed outside. When Clement wasn’t looking, Delpha mouthed to Tyler, ZOMBIES. Tyler’s forehead wrinkled, then he said something to Clement. The gangly man beamed broadly and clapped Tyler on the shoulder, then walked into his house, a spring in his step, whistling. The smile looked out of place on his worried face, but like his nephew’s, it was huge and infectious.
Tyler stumble-ran across the yard, calling, “Okay, let’s go! Do your thing with Puppet, fast!”
“What’d you tell him?” Delpha asked.
“I told him your mom was picking us up at the bottom of the driveway, and I’d see him later this afternoon.” The way Tyler’s cheeks flamed, Delpha could tell it was killing him to lie to his uncle. Delpha felt bad, too, but they didn’t have any choice. She decided she’d come back for a whittling class someday to make up for it. No charge, he’d said. Delpha found her heart feeling lighter.
The late-morning sun filtered through the trees and warmed the back of Delpha’s neck as they ran. Halfway to Puppet, Katybird doubled over, gasping. Her hands sparked. Delpha’s insides churned as she watched Tyler try to comfort Katy, whose face had turned unnaturally pale. Delpha squirmed. She hated watching people in pain.
“C’mon,” Delpha barked, reaching to grab Katybird by the elbow. “We have to keep going!”
“Delpha, let her rest!” Tyler shouted.
“She can glow in Puppet same as here. We’ve got to beat the zombies to town.” Delpha leaned behind Katybird’s back and mouthed, “And her magic fits are getting worse.” As if in agreement, a wave of helter-skelter energy radiated from Katy’s hands, making Delpha’s skin crawl.
“I think y’all need to ask your mamas for help,” Tyler muttered, hazel eyes flashing.
“Not gonna happen.”
“You ought to ask them, Delpha,” Tyler said louder, his chin jutting. “This is dangerous!”
Cold, stubborn anger shot through Delpha, and she felt herself go stony inside. Her mama woul
d blow a gasket if she found out. Besides, Delpha hadn’t even wanted to be tied to Katybird Hearn in the first place. Working alone made a person less vulnerable. Other people meant one of two things: Either they tried to stop you and tell you what you couldn’t do, or they wound their way into your heart, only to rip themselves out later on. Either way, asking for help meant other people meddling with your peace.
She leaned in close to Tyler’s freckled face. “That,” Delpha repeated, voice calm, “is not going to happen. There is a plan. We stick to it.”
Tyler’s fists clenched. “Fine. Be as stubborn as you want. But I’m staying here with Katy till she’s ready to walk. Why don’t you go start Puppet, and we’ll catch up.”
Delpha started walking and braced herself for the awful headache that seemed part and parcel of being a puppet maker.
As she raised her wand, faraway demon shrieks echoed through the hills behind her. Maybe it’s only hawks, she told herself. But Delpha knew better.
KATYBIRD WIPED FINE ROAD DUST FROM HER hands with a wet wipe, courtesy of Tyler’s bag. Static whined from the portable radio in Tyler’s lap as he tried without luck to tune it to a Forest Service frequency.
Delpha walked ahead to wake Puppet with magic—magic Delpha seemed to be mastering by the minute.
Meanwhile, Katybird remained a pointless good-for-nothing. The more Katy thought about this, the worse the ache in her stomach got. Strange screeches like giant eagles sounded through the forest, and Katy kept picturing poor Podge being snatched up by sharp talons, wondering why his girl didn’t come save him.
Cleaning her hands felt the tiniest bit useful, so she kept at it until Tyler cleared his throat.
“Katybird? Doesn’t it … seem a little irresponsible, not asking your parents for help? I mean, even if we find the well water and figure out what the heck a ‘bond’ is, we still might be too late. Folks could get hurt.”
Katy clammed up, hating to admit Tyler was right. Even if I am a failure as a witch, she thought, I could save people by telling Mama and Nanny. But their disappointed faces jumped into her mind, like always, and her heart locked up with fear.
Cattywampus Page 12