“I just don’t want to upset any of the witches,” she said.
“That’s very considerate of you,” I replied.
Sharon looked longingly at Evangeline’s cottage one more time.
“I’ll come talk to you the second I have a chance, and make sure everything’s okay,” I told her.
I was worried. We had no idea how many assassins were crawling around the mansion. Already this week I had been chased by spiders and flown with owls, and that was to say nothing of all the problems with the Root, which I had pushed to the back of my mind in the face of the threat at home.
I made my way toward the cottage alone. I glanced back a couple of times to see where Sharon was, but she had already melted into the darkness. It had been okay to have company, but I didn’t need help.
I was just thinking I should have awakened my cousins to keep me company when I heard a crash.
The noise had clearly come from inside Evangeline’s cottage, where all the lights were out and the curtains were drawn.
The latter wasn’t unusual; she kept them drawn all the time. It was one of the things that annoyed Cookie about her. Admittedly, that was mostly because my grandmother wanted to be able to spy on her. Shockingly enough, Evangeline didn’t want to be spied on.
I raced up to the front door and knocked, hard. No one answered. I knocked again, same result.
Then I ran around to the back. Evangeline spent a lot of time in her beautiful, perfectly kept garden. Now it stood in a late fall silence, the remnants of summer’s bounty swishing gently in the darkness and wind.
The back door stood waiting for me, and I knocked again. There was still no answer, so finally I decided to try opening the door.
No luck; it was locked.
I raced back to the front of the house and found the front door locked as well. Taking a couple of steps back, I looked up to confirm that the curtains that had been drawn the other night were still drawn, and this time there was no flutter.
Another crash sent shivers down my spine. I had to get inside, now.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I used an enchantment and ordered the lock broken. It immediately melted away and fell off. Gratified and relieved that the enchantment had worked, I pushed open Evangeline’s door.
The place was empty. There was no sign of anyone, either Evangeline or the ghost that had opened the door the other night. I raced for the stairs; Evangeline could be in trouble and speed was of the essence.
The second floor was just as empty as the first, and I was now very confused. There did not appear to be another staircase. The cottage was small, but the four rooms upstairs mirrored the first floor, and they were all empty. One looked like the room Evangeline slept in, another like a guest bedroom. The others seemed to be spare rooms of indeterminate use.
I took one step into Evangeline’s room and felt a shock. Of course she would have protective enchantments around her cottage.
I saw nothing of interest in there, so I glanced into the guest bedroom next. It didn’t look slept in. Still, working on a hunch, I stepped right inside that empty room, which was also protected by an enchantment, though a weaker one than I’d felt in Evangeline’s own room.
I bent down and looked under the bed.
Hidden underneath it was an old book, about the size of the space on Judge’s desk that hadn’t been dusty.
My mind went into overdrive. Could Sharon have been right? Had Jefferson Judge been here all along?
Another crash reminded me of the urgency of the situation, so I stood up and went back out to the hallway. From looking at the outside of the house I knew there was a third floor; now I just needed to find the staircase that would take me there.
I used a basic enchantment to show things that might be hidden in plain sight. Usually this was a terrible idea, especially at Haunted Bluff, where Cookie hid all kinds of things. Because she hid ridiculous things that were sometimes also disgusting, like used handkerchiefs on the dinner table, it was just better not to know they were there.
Evangeline, however, didn’t seem to operate that way. I tried the enchantment in every room, but it revealed nothing.
Then there was another thud, and inspiration struck.
I was pointing the enchantment around the room as if there’d be a staircase, but I hadn’t thought to look for a trapdoor in the ceiling.
I went back into the guest room and tried the enchantment one more time, looking upward this time. Lo and behold, there was a trapdoor just above me. I reached up but couldn’t quite touch it, so I went over and got the desk chair to stand on.
With that boost I pulled the trapdoor open easily, then had to duck out of the way as the ladder came crashing down toward my head.
Righting myself, I scurried up the ladder. As I climbed I could hear an argument going on, but I couldn’t tell who was talking.
Through the trapdoor was the attic, but it was as unlike the attic at Haunted Bluff as it could be. This attic was perfectly tidy, and almost empty. Evangeline was apparently neither the sentimental type nor a pack rat.
Having climbed this high, I now knew that the crashing sounds were coming from the roof, where two individuals were apparently fighting. There was no way out of the attic except back through the trapdoor or through one small window, which was open.
I hurried over to the window and tried to twist myself so that I could peer upward. As soon as I stuck my head outside, the blustery ocean wind stung my face and forced me to close my eyes.
When I had gotten my bearings, I opened my eyes just a crack and squinted up at the top of the roof, but I still couldn’t see anything.
There was nothing for it but to climb out there. I turned around to go out the window backwards, grabbing the top of the frame and hoisting myself carefully and slowly out.
I whispered protective enchantments as I went, but I had no idea how well they would work from three stories up. I considered using a trio of fairy lights to guide my way, but decided against it. If there was a fight on the roof, I didn’t want anyone up there to know I was coming.
After a struggle to keep myself from falling, I was finally sitting safely on the roof of the cottage. I took a deep breath, tried to balance, and slowly stood up.
At first I didn’t know what I was looking at, but then the scene sorted itself out as two dark figures grappling with each other. The one facing me was Jefferson Judge; the other figure was facing away from me and I had no idea who it was.
When Judge saw me he stumbled, giving his opponent the upper hand.
An arm came up and crashed toward Judge’s head. He ducked and fell sideways. He had just missed being knocked out.
Then, as the two figures staggered and righted themselves, I saw who was attacking Judge. A bolt of shock raced through me.
Sharon looked shattered. She also looked gleeful.
As for me, I was torn apart by the realization of what I had done in letting her out of Down Below.
I learned that it was about as bad as I feared when she spoke. “Jefferson, I’ve been looking for you.”
“Yes, I had that idea. I was rather hoping you’d be successful,” said Jefferson Judge.
I had imagined that if we ever did find the Judge, we would find him haggard and tired, as if he’d just emerged from being lost in the woods. But Judge looked well rested and well fed, and I knew that my imaginings had been silly. I also knew how and I knew why.
Jefferson Judge had been staying at Evangeline’s cottage the entire time.
That was the fact, but since it explained nothing, I was more confused than ever.
“What are you doing here?” asked Sharon, giving me a disgusted look. “I’m here to find out where the crown is. I’ve been looking for it, and Jefferson here took it from me. But I want it back. It’s mine.”
“How do you figure it’s yours?” I asked.
“I went to the trouble of stealing it. I had my eye on it for years. Why do you think I put up with the idi
ots in the basement?” she spat out.
I shook my head and glanced up. The owls were circling. I wished they were circling because there were other witches with them, but unfortunately there was no one. We were still alone.
“What were you going to do once you had it?” I asked Sharon.
“I was going to sell it. You have any idea how much that thing is worth? It could have gotten me far, far away from here by now,” she said.
The evening was becoming crystal clear. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw movement in the distance, and my heart fluttered. But it wasn’t coming from the mansion, it was coming from the woods.
I was still confused.
“When your brother’s friend came looking for you,” said Sharon, speaking to Judge, “I thought that might drive you out of hiding. No such luck, but I still knew you were hanging around close by, you miserable thief.”
“Your brother sent his friend?” I asked in surprise.
“Didn’t you know?” said Judge, “I’m surprised he’d still bother to look for me after all these years. I told him in no uncertain terms to forget that he had a brother.”
I had never heard someone sound so angry before. All measure was gone from his voice, replaced by fury.
“He’s probably concerned that you’ll run off. It’s not that he actually cares, it’s just so he can keep an eye on you,” said Sharon. She rubbed the wart on her nose and glared. It seemed to be an absent-minded habit of hers.
“I did run off, but I didn’t run far,” said Judge. “I had to figure out a way to make old Bail let me come back.”
“I know exactly what you did,” Sharon snapped.
“It was worth it. Living up here hasn’t been so bad,” said Jefferson Judge.
“Everything Down Below descended into chaos after you left,” I told him. “It hasn’t been without cost.”
His face saddened. “It was a mixed bag. Part of me wanted them to miss me and part of me knew it would be bad if they did.”
“They miss you all right,” Sharon sneered.
My nerves had started to jangle. Sharon looked liable to do anything.
“What do we do now?” Judge asked.
“You tell me where the crown is,” said Sharon.
“Definitely not,” he said.
“I think you will,” said Sharon.
Without warning, she put her head down. The movement reminded me of a bull I had once seen on TV. As her huge shoulders squared to face Jefferson Judge, his face went from slightly sad to surprised, then quickly morphed into concerned.
Both the Judge and I were surprised by what happened next.
Sharon started to charge. Judge didn’t seem to expect a real attack, so at first he didn’t move.
By the time he grasped that she was truly going to hit him, it was already too late. She rolled over him like a freight train. They went flying backwards, as if in slow motion.
Judge had been standing at the edge of the roof. Now they both flew over the edge, lost in a tangle of arms and limbs, mostly Sharon’s, wrapped around Judge.
With a cry, I watched Jefferson Judge twist in the air. He knew he’d have a rough landing, and he was trying make it as painless as possible. Given that he was three stories up, I didn’t think he’d have much luck. Then again, what level of pain a le-haunt felt was a mystery to me.
For a moment, the combatants hung in the air like pale orbs. The moon cast them in a silvery glow, as if they were just part of the landscape.
Then they landed on the ground. Hard.
The best feature of Evangeline’s cottage was that she lived in the most beautiful spot on the property. She had been there the longest. She was a very old witch. She had wanted a nice place to retire to.
And she had it.
Her cottage was on the very edge of the sea, sitting atop a gorgeous cliff looking out at the crashing waves.
That was why the vampire and the le-haunt were now rolling dangerously close to the edge of a cliff. They kept on grappling with each other despite the danger, neither willing to surrender the struggle.
I watched from my perch on top of the cottage, reluctant to move until I knew the outcome of the fight. After a while I caught myself with my mouth hanging open, tasting the salt air.
Sharon was a big, strong woman. When she kneed Jefferson Judge in the ribs, he lost his breath. That was all the opening she needed. She rolled so that he was beneath her, powerless, with his arms pinned to his sides. All he could do was struggle to catch his breath.
Then something flashed, and I saw that Sharon had brought a knife with a gold handle, probably another treasure she had stolen. If it was a special kind of knife, she just might be able to hurt a le-haunt with it. She lifted it high in the air to stab Jefferson Judge.
But Judge thwarted her by getting an arm free in time to deflect her motion. As she flinched from the blow, he got his other arm free and now had both hands working to try to stop her.
Then something white popped out of the bushes. If I could have heard what Rose was saying, I knew it would have been that she wasn’t dressed for this; she was wearing a black jacket with flowers on it and matching pants, more appropriate for an evening party than a fight to the death. But I couldn’t hear her, I could only watch her streaking toward the scene of the action.
She saw me up on the roof, then her eyes traveled back to the struggling supernaturals.
Rose’s appearance made me realize that I had to get down to the ground. I considered just jumping off the roof, but I knew that was a bad idea.
When I turned around to run inside I nearly yelled. Flapping there, right in my path, was an owl.
The owl didn’t need any instruction; it flew right into position to guide me. Technically I should have had a second owl, but because we weren’t going far, I hoped it wouldn’t matter.
Soaring through the air again felt spectacular. Given that I was only flying two stories to the ground, it felt more like floating than flying. Having the owl to guide me made all the difference.
Sharon made another move to kill Jefferson Judge, but this time he was ready for it. He shifted his weight and pushed, and she went flying through the air.
But she hadn’t entirely let go of him, as he had expected her to, and now, against the backdrop of the sparkling black sky and the sparkling black sea, they tipped toward the cliff.
Rose raced over and I stumbled forward, now on my own two feet. As Sharon and Judge teetered at the edge cliff edge, the owl went to circle high above us.
I caught a brief glimpse of Sharon’s face. Her eyes were wild and her mouth was parted in a yell. Then she tipped over the edge, with Judge still in her grip.
I had just reached the edge myself, and with a cry I fell forward. My hands scrabbled to grab onto any part of Jefferson Judge I could reach, to keep him from falling.
My hands swiped empty air.
I was too late.
As if in slow motion, Sharon and Jefferson Judge disappeared down the cliff. I watched them fall and fall, still grappling as they plunged downward.
I nearly lost sight of them in the darkness. I wasn’t certain, because they were so far away, but it did look like their fall slowed right before they hit the water. There was no splash. Vampires did have a bit of magic, so I told myself that maybe Sharon had cast enough of an enchantment to soften the crash.
I looked for the owl that had helped me down off the roof. He was still circling gently.
“Jane?” I heard Pep yell.
“I’m over here,” I yelled back.
My cousins come crashing through the bit of woodland that separated Evangeline’s yard from the mansion. They looked relieved when they saw me, but concerned when they saw exactly where I was. My head was dangling over a cliff, and Rose was crouched next to me.
Sprawled on the ground, I might have been unconscious; I couldn’t tell if they’d heard me yell back at them.
They ran forward. “What happened?”
&nbs
p; I told them the story as quickly as I could, ending with, “We have to get down there.” But I had no idea how we were going to do that.
“We can’t all fly down,” said Lark.
The owl was gliding away, probably not thinking it was a good idea to guide me down there. If so, I agreed.
“Do you want to climb down the stairs?” Pep asked her sister. She didn’t sound sure it was a good idea herself.
“I could try it,” said Lark. She and Kip were the only ones who were ordinarily brave enough to attempt the rickety stairs that led down to the beach.
The stairs weren’t anywhere near where we were standing, though. They were over behind the mansion.
All four of us started running.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Is Cookie safe?” I asked.
“She was fine the last time I saw her. She had surrounded herself with wine bottles and said they were the best friend she ever had,” said Pep.
“Was she kidding?” I asked.
“Hard to tell. I’m going to assume yes,” said Pep.
“She wasn’t actually drinking, so maybe she’s taking the threat of assassination seriously,” said Lark. “She said she just wanted the bottles near her.”
“Are you sure you should be going down there by yourself?” Pep asked Lark once we had reached the top of the stairs.
Decision time. But Lark looked determined.
It was a long way down. With the wind whipping off the ocean, I felt like I’d be as likely to be blown clear off the stairs as to make it down on my feet. They looked as rickety and terrifying as ever.
We had lost sight of the supernaturals and the spot where they had gone into the water. For all I knew, they were still in the ocean. For all I knew, Sharon had gotten the better of Jefferson Judge by now.
“I’ll be fine. I’m a witch too, you now,” said Lark. She grabbed the wooden railing and started heading down the stairs. Pep and I watched her as she descended, taking every step slowly and carefully.
This part of the cliff had a protective railing. It wouldn’t have stood a determined push, but it was enough to offer some comfort. Pep and I went to stand next to it to see if we could spot anything on the beach, and to watch Lark making her slow way down while we looked for Jefferson Judge from above.
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