My body, on the bed, feels weightless, as though I'm flying with the bee, and in a way, I am. This is different from the times I tried astral projection. Then, I felt almost nothing physical, but now I'm dimly aware of the soft bed under my back and also the hard-working wings on my back.
Because it's night, my bee instincts are telling me to return to the hive, but I urge the bee onward. After a few minutes of flying, energy reserves are fading fast, and I'm caving in on myself, shrinking. Regular bees probably can't do that, but this one can. I can burn myself up as fuel.
I have eyes all over. I have so many eyes, though none of them are adapted to seeing in the dark, or very far ahead of me. I seem to have two sets of visions, though, with my human vision still in the mix, so I'm able to navigate the neighborhood.
My entire body—I don't know if it's the human one or the bee body—trembles with exertion by the time my drone gets to Austin's house. I've done it. I'm here.
I almost didn't recognize her house, because it has no color. Austin's house is, as I know it, bright red, like a country barn on a jigsaw puzzle. Bees, however, don't see the color red. I came all this way and nearly couldn't find her house!
Doesn't matter—I've come to see Austin, not the side of her house.
There's just one problem: all her windows are closed.
I nudge the bee closer to her bedroom window, where Austin's light is on and her curtains are open. Something cool and wet washes over me, reminiscent of falling in the swimming pool, and I'm bathed in bright light. The bee is on the other side of the glass, inside the room.
I flew through glass.
There's Austin! She looks up from where she's sitting on her bed with a book, probably hearing the buzz of the bee, so I instruct my little black and yellow solider to put out landing gear and drop down on the wall shelf between Austin's unicorn statuette and her well-worn childhood teddy bear.
“Hello?”
Something like fear seems to pass over her face. I'm such a jerk for spying on her like this. What a stupid idea this is. I'm sorry, Austin, I'll go.
I should disconnect, but back at my house, in my body, I don't open my closed eye, because I don't really want to break the connection. I stay in the bee's mind, watching Austin as she puts down the book and turns on her television, clicking through channels until she gets to a fashion show.
“Zan?” she says, turning again and looking right at me.
I open my closed eye and let go of my stomach muscles.
Something pulls at me, feeling like the moment you hit the bottom of a bungee jump, and I'm yanked away from her.
Back on my bed, in my house, I gasp to catch my breath. Ashamed, I slide off the ring.
Will Austin know what I did? If she checks the shelf, she'll probably find a little smudge of ash where the conjured bee was. Would a pile of ashes be enough to make her suspicious?
I pull out my cell phone. If I send her an apology message, how would I explain what I've done? And if she's still ticked at me for grabbing her finger and trying to steal into her Secret Town with a vision, she'd be more than pissed if she found out I sent a bee spy.
What to do, what to do.
I'm drained of energy, my body heavy and depleted. I must sleep, but first I get up and head to the kitchen to gobble down the rest of the curried stew, standing over the sink.
My throat's raw and sore. Am I coming down with something? My legs are shaking, so I sit in a chair to finish scraping my bowl.
Still hungry. It's too dark in here with just the under-cabinet lighting, so I go to click on the overhead fixture, but it's already on. Are some of the bulbs burned out? Hmm, no.
I can't figure out why everything is so dim. Does it seem dark now, in comparison to seeing from the bee's perspective, or is there something wrong with me? My ears are ringing again, but I'm still so hungry.
Someone's talking to me.
“You don't like those,” she says.
“Huh?”
Gran is in front of me. “You don't even like those rice cakes. You say they taste like something that isn't food.”
I look down at the pile of rice cake crumbs on the table before me. “Oh, sorry, I ate them all.”
She shakes her head. “Food's for eating, don't apologize.”
I stand and tell her I'm going to bed.
“The suit fitting went well,” she calls after me.
“Oh. Sorry,” I say as I round the corner for my room, stumbling toward my warm, comfy hive—I mean my bed.
* * *
Friday morning comes way too bright and early.
Gran wakes me and tells me to shake a leg and she'll give me a ride to school on her way to work. As I'm getting in Gran's car, she waves at Crystal across the street.
Crystal waves back, looking a little better than the last time I saw her. The knots have been combed out of her hair, but her eyes still dart around nervously.
Poor Crystal, she seems haunted.
Whether I'm in danger or not, I want to solve the case for Crystal, so she can be at ease. It's the least I can do for her after she's been so good to me and Gran, always babysitting Mibs for no charge, and generally being a nice person. She doesn't deserve to be mixed up in witchcraft and murders.
When I get to my first class of the day, I put my head down on my arm and fall asleep. The only upside to being exhausted is I'm too tired to be worried about getting in trouble in class. When the bell rings for lunch, I wake up refreshed and invigorated, jumping to my feet so quickly I startle the teacher. I was dreaming about a girl in a mermaid costume. That has to mean something.
My locker door has been repaired, and everything inside my locker appears to be untouched, though I don't care. This world isn't even real to me.
I yawn and stretch, trying to get more comfortable. My body doesn't hurt, but I have an ache all over. My feet are sore, too, as though they've outgrown my shoes since last week. The waistband of my jeans is uncomfortably tight.
Ahead of me, I see the person I want to talk to, and thoughts about my sore feet disappear.
It's Rosemary Stonehurt, the girl Shad Miller's been dating, going into the library, so I follow and find her browsing the sci-fi paperbacks. Everything up until now has been leading to me questioning her, using my powers.
This must be why Heidi tasked me with her work. If I'm the person who's destined to solve Newt's murder, it's got to be by doggedly chasing down all possible leads, even if it means getting a face full of Shad through Rosemary's vision.
So far, to get girls to poke me in the navel, I've used a variety of tactics, the most common being a variation on the truth. Quite simply, I offer to tell a girl's fortune and future.
From an early age, girls are primed to want to know what kind of man they'll marry. They have several word games and folded-paper, pick-a-number devices used to predict a future husband. It's a source of endless fascination and giggles, and although none of the actual results are taken seriously or considered accurate, the process is very regimented. I've seen girls pass entire hours on long bus rides for field trips, just playing these games. Girls may envy boys our simple fascination with video games or anything gun-shaped, but I envy them their folded-paper games.
Today, however, I'm going to try something different. I'm not even going to offer to tell Rosemary's fortune.
I hike up my shirt. “Rosemary, does my belly button feel weird to you?”
She giggles and sticks her finger in.
* * *
The vision begins.
Shad is so tall and I'm so short, and this is really awkward, so maybe I'll get on top.
Who's thinking that? Me? Must be Rosemary. I'm in a dimly-lit vision, but it's not dim due to my powers not working. This room is dim.
Wow, this vision started fast, and there's Shad, and I am feeling things that are extremely foreign.
I seem to be Rosemary right now, in this dim room, and I'm enjoying myself. What's happening? Oh.
Rewi
nd! Rewind! Back to the pawn shop.
Shad's making a really horrible face. Oh no! Oh no!
REWIND!
Mercifully, the world swirls, a kaleidoscope of colors and smells and feelings.
Now I'm at the pawn shop. There's Cinderella. Who does she think she is? She thinks she's so pretty just because she has long legs and a tiny waist. I hate her. I'm going to tell all my friends so we can hate her together. I'm taking a picture of this Cinderella with my cell phone right now so I can post it and we can make fun of her.
These thoughts I'm having, they aren't mine. They must be Rosemary's thoughts.
Why does stuck-up Cinderella have her eyes shut? What is she carrying inside that paper bag? Something tells me it's not a sandwich. And is she talking to herself? She's not wearing one of those phone thingamajigs on her ear. Oh snap, she's totally nutters. Nutters! I have to get Shad out of here now.
Is he looking at Cinderella? He'd better not be, or he's in big trouble. He'll see.
Me: Get me out of here!
Rosemary: Oh yeah. Shad will see. Tonight, I'm going to climb him like a tree.
Me: !
* * *
I come out of the vision in time to hear Rosemary say to me, “Your belly button seems fine to me.”
I'm relieved to no longer be inside her mind, inside her vision. “Thanks for checking,” I say.
“You are a little warm, so maybe you're getting a cold?”
“Maybe.” I point to a paperback. “Hitchhiker's Guide. Totally a must-read.”
“Thanks,” she says as I walk away.
I pass Shad Miller on my way out of the library, and I fight this strange urge to give him a hug. These visions. They're not fooling around anymore, are they?
Now I'm thinking about running my fingers—no, Rosemary's fingers—through his red chest hair.
Julie jumps up in front of me. “What's goin' on? Whatcha thinkin' about?”
“Nothing!”
Her eyes crinkling with amusement, she draws out her response. “Reeeeealllly.” Her short, messy black hair is up in two messy pigtails, high on her head.
“Why do you look like that?” I ask.
“Because I'm WEIRD! And I accept that about myself.”
“Uh, okay,” I say as we walk toward the cafeteria.
She grabs my arm and whispers in my ear, “I also had some moonshine. Hey, do you still want me to poke you in your tummy?”
Her breath smells like exhaust fumes, and I have to wave the noxious cloud away with one hand. “No, but thanks anyway. It's actually working just fine again.” An uninvited image of Shad Miller flexing, topless and bottomless, pops into my mind. “It's working a little too well.”
“Good. So you and Detective Strangeness have it all figured out, right? Case closed!”
Some people are turning to gawk, so I shush Julie and pull her aside, into the nook of a doorway. “Quiet, you little booze-weasel. No, I haven't solved the case, and it's stressing me out.”
She pokes me on the tip of my nose. “Don't. Just don't.”
“Seriously, I am stressed. I think I'm losing hair. Is my hairline receding?”
I lean over to show her my hairline, and in response, she licks her finger and rubs my forehead where it meets my scalp. “Good kitty.”
“How are you even standing? How are you not throwing up right now?”
She shrugs, nearly tipping herself over.
“Oh, Julie, what am I going to do with you?”
Shrugging again, she says, “Love me?”
James is nowhere to be seen, and Julie's in a class after lunch that we're not in with her, so what am I going to do with her? I pull out my phone and call James, but the call goes straight to voice mail.
Do I have any allies here in the school? Denise. She's helped me before.
I grab Julie's hand and drag her to the office. Her eyes bulge and she hiccups, staring at the intimidating artwork on the wall: the creepy person with the binoculars, and the wrecked sailboats.
Denise, the petite blonde who is our school secretary, comes over and props her elbows on the counter. “Are you doing another BS project?” she asks me.
“Different BS today entirely. Someone gave my friend something to drink and she's not doing so well.”
“Does she have any alcohol on her?”
I sniff Julie's shirt. “Just in her.”
“Smartass,” Denise says, amused enough to show her dimples.
Julie holds up her index finger to get our attention. “Do NOT let me drive,” she says.
Denise leans over the counter and puts her hands on both sides of Julie's face. “Do you want to get expelled and miss graduation, or do you want to come have a nap in the supply closet for a few hours?”
Julie hiccups. “Supply closet.”
“I owe you,” I tell Denise.
“Yes, you do,” she says as I leave the office.
* * *
When I meet up with Julie at the last class of the day, she's upright and sober. Her hair's back to its normal wildness, and if I hadn't seen her with my own eyes, I'd never believe she'd been so drunk earlier.
“Stop staring,” she snaps at me.
James leans forward from his desk behind me and says, “Our family tolerates alcohol almost too well.” I told him about Julie's adventures when we were in our last class and he thanked me for taking care of her.
“Must be your genes,” I say.
“Lucky us. You coming to the movie tonight? Raye-Anne will be there.”
“Maybe.”
“And that tall guy, Shad Miller.”
“Oh, I think I have plans. Yeah, some last-minute planning for Gran's wedding.”
“Family first,” James says.
I pull open my text book and start reading the day's assigned pages—anything to erase unwanted images from my mind. If I never, ever use my power again, that'll be fine by me. It's never given me anything but trouble.
* * *
School's over, and I'm walking home. I could have gotten a ride from James and Julie, but walking is helping me think. Walking is good.
I hear footsteps. Is someone following me?
Zan, stop being paranoid.
The footsteps speed up, from fast walking to running.
I turn to look just in time to see big, tall, redheaded Shad Miller tackle me, throwing us both into a hedge.
As I try to get away from him and the scratching branches, I yell, “This isn't funny!”
“It's not supposed to be,” he says as he punches me in the face.
Stars. I see actual stars, then a wave of heat washes over my body.
I twist my torso, trying to get away from him, but his limbs are so long, he's everywhere. This is not entirely unfamiliar, and I think of his girlfriend, Rosemary, and her vision of them in their private tangle. Not funny, vision.
“What are you doing?” I yell.
“Stay away from my girl!” His hand comes at me like a missile, but I block it.
RAGE!
I feel Moira's anger, and other people's anger, mixed in with my own, and death. They aren't strong, but I am.
Everything goes dark.
I'm strong and they'll be sorry.
Colors flash by. I'm heavy and then I'm light again.
Shad's crying, whimpering.
I shake out my arms. My chest bone hurts, and my face is tingling.
Where did Shad go? I don't see him. I'm standing on somebody's lawn, in front of their house, near a big tree. Nobody else is around.
“I'm sorry,” Shad says between sniffs.
He's … above me?
I look up at the branches of the tree I'm standing beside.
Shad's several feet over my head, clinging to a branch.
“What are you doing up there?” I ask.
“Doing? Nothing! Why'd you throw me up here?”
I threw him up there? I don't remember anything. “Oh, yeah? Well, maybe you should have thought of that bef
ore you punched me. I didn't do anything to your girlfriend, I was just talking to her.”
“I don't think those herbal steroids I got off the internet are agreeing with me,” he says.
“No shit.” I stand under Shad and hold my arms out. “Drop down, I'll catch you.”
He does, and I catch him as easily as a fireman catches a kitten.
“How are you doing this?” he asks as I set him down. “Is it magic or voodoo?”
I look around to see if anyone's watching. “Shh,” I say. “I don't know. I'm just stronger lately. I don't know why, but I'm not taking anything.”
“Must be that magic stuff you do,” he says. “I've heard weird things about potions and spells.”
“Right. If I could do magic, I would.” A thought pops into my head. Maybe I can do magic. Moira could. What did she do again?
I wave my hand in front of Shad's face. “Forget.”
He blinks.
It worked, I just made him forget this whole incident and my freaky strength. Wow. This one little spell is going to make life a whole lot easier for me.
“Hey, are you okay, man?” I ask. “You've got some scratches on your ear from where you, um, fell down over there.”
“Right,” he says flatly. “From where I fell down.”
I grab my nose and squeeze the bridge of it. The pressure hurts, but nothing's moving or wiggling around.
“I sure fell down hard,” Shad says. “And repeatedly.”
“Shad, what do you think just happened?”
“I tackled you and then you went all Hulk crazy and threw me up into a tree with super-human strength.”
“Oh.” So I guess the spell didn't work.
“Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,” he says. “But you should consider joining the wrestling team.”
“I'll think about it. So, hey. You know I wasn't coming onto your girlfriend, right? I just wanted to know about the incident at the pawn shop.”
He nods and runs his fingers through his red hair, pulling out stray branches. “We're cool. I mean, I'm cool if you are. We're cool, right?”
“Yeah, we're cool.”
He turns slowly and walks away, picking up speed a few feet away, and he's running before he hits the end of the block.
Witches and Ghosts Supernatural Mysteries Page 143