T*Witches: Don’t Think Twice

by H. B. Gilmour

  Marjoram and mugwort, Ileana had brought both. Candles made of beeswax; opal, stone of the spirits, and sapphire to help find lost truths; agate geode and quartz crystal both, to concentrate and enhance her psychic powers. Touching her head to the frost-powdered ground, cleansing her hands in the snow, Ileana inscribed a circle around her and, within it, set up her candles and stones and sprinkled both marjoram and mugwort.

  Then she recited the Transporter incantation.

  A wave of dizziness hit her, forcing her to close her eyes. Immediately, she felt her body being lifted from the ground. A whirling wind coiled around her, droning deafeningly. She felt as though she were caught in a tornado or a cyclone but one that was oddly warm, and embracing.

  Losing all sense of time — and of danger — Ileana allowed herself to be spun in space until, with an unexpected jolt, she was dropped onto a sharp, rocky surface where an icy draft blew.

  Slowly opening her eyes, she saw that she was deep inside the cave. No earthly light hinted at an entrance or exit. Yet something bright radiated a few feet before her. A glow that grew brighter and windier and colder.

  “At last, you come!” a deep, almost angry voice rang out. It was not Aron’s voice, yet not unlike his.

  “I come for Aron DuBaer,” Ileana said with as much courtesy as she could muster. She didn’t like being shouted at. Still, it was important to show respect to the spirits, even bellowing, ill-tempered ones. “Lord Aron, father of the twins Artemis and Apolla,” she explained to the strange light.

  As she watched, it changed shape, took shape, transformed, as though through generations, from one murky being into another and another. Hopeful that the light’s journey would end as Aron, Ileana knelt on the floor of the cave and waited as patiently as was possible for her under the circumstances.

  “You seek my son?” The smoky form before her took the shape of a woman.

  Swallowing her disappointment, hoping the spirit wasn’t really finished morphing, Ileana studied the tall, stiff-shouldered aristocrat who held a cane in one of her age-dappled, bejeweled hands.

  Then she realized what the woman had said. “Your son?” Ileana asked.

  “Lord Aron DuBaer, father of Artemis and Apolla, husband of the widowed Miranda,” the old lady said in her booming, none-too-friendly voice.

  “Then you must be —”

  “Your grandmother Leila!”

  Ileana shook her head. “You mean, grandmother of the twins, right?” Oh, no. The young witch trembled in honest terror. She’s going to tell me that Fredo is my father.

  “That dolt!” the spirit Leila said. “My own son, and yet he is incapable of fathering anything but those thickheaded boys; vengeful, wanton dimwits!”

  “Vey and Tsuris?” Ileana asked, unimaginably relieved.

  The old woman waved her hand dismissively. “Tell me, why do you seek the spirit of my cherished son?”

  Did Leila know that Aron had been murdered, Ileana wondered suddenly. Maybe spirits were spared the heartbreak of knowing how their children died. Ileana didn’t know and didn’t want to be the one to break such news — even if the “news” was fifteen years old.

  “Well, well, how thoughtful of you.” Leila laughed. “So there is a kind bone in your body —”

  Ileana bristled. “I haven’t much time, your Ladyship —”

  “Call me goddess,” Leila snapped.

  Ileana was momentarily taken aback. Then she quickly returned to her mission. “Goddess,” she said, “I seek your son to ask him how he was killed. And by whom,” she added softly.

  “Child, let me look at you, for who knows when I shall see you again? I am your grandmother. Truly.”

  Ileana felt her chin being raised, although the woman before her had not lifted a hand.

  “And as ashamed as I am of how your father hurt you,” Leila continued, peering at Ileana with gray eyes, as metallic and gray as the twins’ remarkable eyes and Ileana’s own. “Still more am I ashamed of how I hurt him. My dear Ileana, little goddess — which I called you at your birth — if not for my stubbornness and arrogance, you might never have been cast out. But then, the mighty tracker Karsh would not have reared you. And, truly, he has given you all that your prideful family could not. It turned out for the best. Yet, for my part, I am sorry.”

  Ileana heard the droning start up again in her ears. Her head was addled with information and emotions. She wanted to ask the question Karsh had never answered for her — who is my father? Was there another brother no one spoke of who’d sired her? She wanted to be able to talk with Aron, to have him say that, yes, Thantos had murdered him. She would beg his spirit to appear at the dome. She wanted to know exactly what Leila was apologizing for. But the noise, the droning that grew louder by the moment, told her that the wind would whisk her back soon.

  “Grandmother,” Ileana called out in desperation.

  The single word, like a powerful incantation, quieted the dizzying noise, but only for a moment. Slowly, the whooshing babble and the cave’s cold breath began to well up again.

  “Quickly, little goddess mine, choose your question, for each moment that I am in your world, the strength that I brought with me fades.” Leila’s voice had grown soft. The wind in the cave seemed to blow each word away from Ileana’s ears.

  She had too many questions. Which one mattered? Which one, she was startled to find herself wondering, should be asked for the good of Coventry Island? The good of the people? Never, in all her years, had Ileana ever considered or cared about such an outcome. Never had she placed the good of others above her own vain interests.

  The fading light before her, the light that was spirit, seemed to glow inside her, to warm and “lighten” her. Ileana began to laugh.

  “The question, the question!” Leila’s vanishing voice urged.

  The trial, Ileana thought, still smiling, still feeling lighthearted. The trial was important. The twins, equally important. The truth most important of all. The community must know the truth about what happened the morning Artemis and Apolla were born. “Was Aron murdered by his brother?” Ileana asked.

  “Yes,” Leila answered.

  Ileana knelt. “There is little time, I know. But I beg you. Can you travel with me and reveal that truth to one and all?”

  “This is what you wish? You would have me enter the sacred dome?”

  “More than anything.”

  Leila held Ileana’s eyes a moment more. “My child, little goddess,” she cautioned, “be careful what you wish for.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  BRIANNA’S BREAKDOWN

  They did not call in advance. Answering the door without makeup, Brianna looked frighteningly drawn, her face haggard and blemished. Even her hair seemed to be thinning.

  “OMG, one wasn’t enough,” she cracked tiredly. “You’re into serial ambushing now?” She glanced past them and saw, at the curb, smoke curling from the tailpipe of Dave’s waiting car. “Wow, it’s a family affair.”

  “Get dressed,” Cam said gently. “Let’s talk.”

  Bree looked at them, cocking her head, trying to act like her old cheerfully untroubled self. “Which one of you is going to read me my rights?” It didn’t work. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, officers. I’ll be right back.”

  “Dress warm,” Alex called after her. “We’re going to Mariner’s Park. Cam’s idea,” she added.

  Bree glanced at Alex over her shoulder. “I don’t think so,” she said, then disappeared toward the bedroom.

  “My idea?” Cam grumbled.

  “To be someplace magical where witches have a history,” Alex reminded her. And, though it probably wasn’t the best time to challenge her clique-centric sister, she couldn’t help mentioning, “I heard through the mind-vine that Bree’s crib was off-limits to me. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Busted. “That was a tough one,” Cam conceded. “It’s just so important to her that everyone thinks she’s this pampered rich babe. We know the truth, but we’
re her friends…. We keep her secrets. Don’t say it —” Cam warned.

  Even if keeping those secrets is dangerous and destructive? Alex didn’t say it. But she thought it, loudly.

  “Besides,” Cam went on the defensive, “it’s not like you ever asked to go there. There’s a lot you didn’t want to know about Bree. It was easier for you to hang on to your prejudice. You made it easy for me to do what Bree wanted.”

  “Now we’ve got to do what she doesn’t want,” Alex said.

  “Thanks for the irresistible invite,” Brianna said, returning to the front hall in sweats and sneakers. “But, you know, now that I’ve really thought about it? I’m gonna take a Pasadena on the field trip and hit the gym instead.”

  “Wait.” Cam was calm but determined. “There’s a reason we’re asking you. It’s not some random field trip.”

  “Oh?” Brianna arched her eyebrows. “Buried treasure hunt? Scavenger hunt? Cute-boy enclave? Somehow, I think not.”

  “We have something for you,” Alex said, sticking with the plan. “And in a way, it is sort of like buried treasure.”

  Bree shot a sharp glance at Cam.

  “We do have something to give you. It’s kind of precious, too.” It felt as though Cam were seeing her sick friend for the first time. Her voice was thick with emotion.

  And maybe that’s what did it. Brianna grimaced, glanced over Cam’s shoulder, waved at David Barnes waiting in the car, and caved. “Okay, I’ll play. How long will it take to bestow your gift? There’s not a treadmill or bike left at Gym World if you get there late.”

  Cam’s dad dropped them off at the entrance to Mariner’s Park. The paths were already peopled by morning joggers and dog walkers, puffing smoky breath.

  “Got your cell phone?” Dave asked Cam. Alex, and even Bree, cracked up. “I withdraw the question — on the grounds of ‘way obvious,’” he admitted. “Call if there’s any problem. Promise?”

  As the trio traipsed up the hill leading to Cam’s special place, Bree whined, “This better be extraordinary. Exemplary. Outstanding. In other words, twin-pains, this little excursion had better be worth it.”

  Or what? Alex was tempted to say.

  Cam kicked her sister’s ankle. “Promise. You will so thank us for this.”

  Eventually, Alex thought and swung her foot away to avoid another boot nudge.

  Cam had brought a blanket and set it out under the gnarled oak tree. Alex had brought the crystals.

  Brianna grudgingly sat between Cam and Alex and held out her palm. “Deliver. What’s the gift? And why hide it here?”

  Although she’d rehearsed it, Cam didn’t know if she could say it, now that she was face-to-face with her friend. How long had this been going on? Cam’s stomach turned as she noticed bony knees, pointy shoulder blades jutting from Bree’s sweatshirt. There was a lump in her throat, but she got it out. “The truth is a gift, Brianna.”

  “Yeah, if you can’t afford diamonds.” Bree rolled her once-vibrant green eyes and started to get up. “Look, whatever new enlightenment you guys are into? Don’t drag me all Dalai Lama with you. Just count me … out. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  Alex held Bree’s arm and said firmly, “It’s okay. We know.”

  “What is it you think you know?” Bree challenged.

  Cam blurted, “You’re starving yourself. You have an eating disorder. You need help.”

  Bree’s reaction was a shocker. She burst out laughing. “I wish.”

  “No!” Cam had to work to keep calm. “I mean, no one would wish that.”

  Bree wrapped her arms around her knees, a look of disgust clouding her face. “Starving? As if. I’m blubber! I could live off my fat.”

  “Oh, man, that is so warped!” Alex exclaimed.

  Bree snickered, “This is what you dragged me here for? I am so gone. I’m calling a cab. She whipped out her cell phone and started to stand up.

  “You can’t go, you can’t run away.” Cam knew she sounded desperate. “Not until you realize what you’re doing to yourself. And let us help you.”

  Brianna had ceased to be amused. She was getting angry. “Ready, aim, misfire. I neither want nor need your misguided help, Goody Four-shoes. You can’t force me to stay here and listen to this bogus junk.”

  The twins looked at each other and shrugged. Cam reached inside her sweatshirt and pulled out her sun charm, which glinted in the early daylight.

  Alex did the same with her moon charm, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger.

  “What is this, a QVC moment? Selling your jewelry? Do I look like I need to accessorize?” Brianna was nervous as Cam locked eyes with her.

  The Truth Inducer. It was one of the first incantations they’d learned. It had to work.

  If it didn’t, Cam thought, repulsed at the prospect, Brianna, whose first priority had always been “looking good,” could soon be hospitalized against her will. Then everyone would know. How devastating would that be for someone who needed to keep up appearances?

  If she had some control over things, like if she decided to get help voluntarily, Bree could spin the situation to her advantage. But to control it, she needed to accept it.

  Cam grasped one of Brianna’s bony hands, Alex the other. Bree pulled away. “What are you doing now? Contacting the dead?”

  Just at that second, a warm breeze blew by — strange for the cold morning. It prickled the nape of Cam’s neck, producing goose bumps. Alex felt it, too. And caught the clean, herbal scent of their guardian. “Ileana?” she whispered.

  Or Leila, Cam guessed, remembering the regal spirit of their grandmother who had appeared to them once before.

  Bree’s tugging snapped them back to reality. She wasn’t strong enough to slip out of their grip. “How can you do this to me?” she demanded as Alex and Cam began reciting the incantation. “You kidnapped me and now you’re doing — I don’t know what, but I don’t like it. You’re supposed to be my friends!”

  “O sun that gives us light and cheer, shine through us now to banish fear…”

  At once, Cam and Alex felt their amulets begin to heat and vibrate between their fingers. And then, as had happened before, the necklaces pulled toward each other as if magnetized, drawing Cam and Alex together. Clinging to Brianna’s hands, the girls now formed a circle as tight and complete as their sun and moon charms did when they linked.

  Brianna’s green eyes glazed over. She stopped resisting the twins — her angry jaw relaxed. The charms separated, allowing the twins to sit back.

  To Cam’s gentle query, the gaunt girl confessed that she liked dieting. The more weight she lost, the prettier she felt. “One day, I’ll look like the actresses my dad sees. Then he’ll see me.”

  Cam’s eyes welled with tears. Brianna felt invisible to her dad — duh! Only now, Cam thought, Bree was making herself invisible for real. It didn’t make sense.

  Is it her way of getting back at him? she silently ventured to Alex.

  Alex shrugged. Maybe her way of having some control over her messed-up family. Isn’t she all about control?

  Irony alert: Bree had no control over what she was doing to herself. And no clue about how she really looked. Kristen had been right.

  Cam tried again. “This isn’t the way. You’re only hurting yourself, Bree — and everybody who loves you. All your friends, your mom and your dad.” She added, “I’m sure,” though she wasn’t sure at all about Eric Waxman.

  She was unprepared for Bree’s outburst, Bree’s truth: “You don’t understand! When I’m thinner, he’ll pay attention to me. He hates me because I’m so fat and ugly now.”

  Frustrated, Cam turned to Alex. “She still doesn’t see it!”

  “Then show her,” her twin suggested.

  Cam caught her breath. Instantly, she knew what Alex meant — which didn’t make it doable. “But how? I’ve never tried that before — shared a vision, showed it to someone else.”

  “Maybe it was never th
is important before,” Alex said.

  Brianna was on ice, literally. The Truth Inducer had left her limp and perplexed for the moment. She sat quietly waiting now.

  Cam closed her eyes and tried to recall her vision of the terrified girl in the snow, so thin, almost transparent. Let this work, she begged silently.

  Concentrate, Alex urged, seemingly from far away. And then, as the vision returned in vivid detail, down to the bare trees, the snow, the brick house — which Cam now realized was Bree’s home — and the girl begging for someone to understand her, Alex said excitedly, “That’s it. You’re doing it. I can hear it perfectly … and, Cami, I feel it, feel it out there, the coldness, the despair —”

  Big glitch: Cam re-created the vision, Alex felt it, but Bree was the one who needed to see it.

  Cam urged suddenly, Use your mind, Alex. Move the sounds, the feelings, the whole vision if you can. Move it from us to Bree. Let her see what she looks like through other people’s eyes.

  I don’t know how, Alex confessed. I don’t know if I can move something … intangible … a thought, an image — from your mind to Bree’s.

  The moment she told the truth, she was able to picture the vision as Cam described it. She imagined herself holding on to it, as if it were a painting or a drawing and not a moving image. And then she pictured folding the paper on which she’d transferred the vision. Folding it into a paper airplane that she struggled to grasp and sail toward Bree.

  “Oh!” the subdued, skeletal girl exclaimed, moving suddenly. “Ouch, what’s that?” She ruffled her hair, rummaged through it as if she were searching for something. And then her eyes widened as whatever she’d been looking for seemed to unfold inside her head.

  A horrified scream snapped Cam and Alex out of their deep concentration. It was followed by, “Oh, my God, that’s me. Oh, no. Is that what I look like?”

  Brianna covered her face and wept. Cam — and Alex, for a while — wept with her.