Witch Rising

by Paige McKenzie

  I need to have another conversation with her… ASAP.

  Hunter took her by the hand and led her through the entryway, which was thick with the scent of gardenias, hyacinths, and other flowers from an elaborate bouquet on the antique half-round table. Voices drifted from the living room… not conversations, though, but what sounded like yelling and shouting.

  “Has the meeting already started? Is everything okay in there?” Div asked Hunter nervously.

  “What? Oh, that’s from the TV. The meeting hasn’t started yet, but some people got here early, and they’re watching the news because of the rallies that kicked off today.”

  “What rallies?”

  “You don’t know? Sorry, I must have forgotten to mention it; it came together pretty much overnight. The New Order leadership has organized a series of rallies across the country to roll out the new name and to support the passage of 6-129A. In fact, there’s going to be one in Sorrow Point on Wednesday. Orion Kong from your school is helping to organize it. Why don’t we go together?”

  “Oh! Sure.”

  Div peered through the living room doorway. Mr. Jessup and a dozen or so other New Order members—she remembered most of them from the last meeting—were milling in front of the eighty-five-inch wall-mounted TV. The screen was split between half a dozen cities—Los Angeles; New York City; Chicago; Washington, DC; Boston; and Miami—then it shifted to six different cities, including some small ones in the Midwest and South. Each shot showed protesters wearing shirts with the new symbol, marching down Main Streets and in front of state capitols and city halls. They carried signs that said THE NEW ORDER IS HERE TO STAY! and 6-129A NOW! and HUMANS FIRST! while chanting “Witches don’t belong here!” through bullhorns.

  “Isn’t it great?” Hunter murmured. “The rallies are totally nonviolent, too. That’s true activism. Democracy in action.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Div felt sick to her stomach. She had to get away. “Can you excuse me a sec? I want to say a quick hello to your sisters. I still have a few minutes, right?”

  “Sure, of course. That’s sweet of you. They’ve been super-grumpy lately… maybe you can cheer them up.”

  “Are they okay?”

  “Yeah, well… ten-year-old girls, right? They think they know everything.”

  That’s kind of sexist, Div wanted to say. Are only boys allowed to be opinionated and sure of themselves? Instead, she squeezed his arm and headed upstairs, running a hand across her hair to smooth it even though it didn’t need smoothing. She was usually the epitome of calm, cool, and collected—she didn’t believe in wasting time and energy on emotions—but right now, she was fighting to keep her feelings in check. True activism? Democracy in action? These rallies were nothing but hatred and prejudice, pure and simple. Hatred and prejudice against her kind.

  And was she really going to march in one on Wednesday with her pretend boyfriend? Did she have any other choice?

  Upstairs, Div found the twins in Cassie’s bedroom, sitting on the floor with their tablets. She took a deep breath to center herself before poking her head through the door.

  “Knock, knock.”

  “Hi, Divvy,” Cassie called out. Caitlin waved without looking up from the screen. Hunter was right; they were definitely not their usual cheerful, chatty selves.

  “Hey, you two. What’s up?”

  “Well, I’m playing the Untitled Duck Game and Caitlin’s playing Animal Land,” Cassie replied.

  “We’re not allowed to play Witchworld anymore,” Caitlin added. “Dad says.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry.” Div sat down cross-legged on the floor next to them. “Why won’t he let you play?”

  Caitlin shrugged. “Dunno. Hunt is on his side, too. He told Dad Witchworld was a ‘correcting influence.’ Or ‘corrupting.’ Whatever. Anyway, it’s so dumb.”

  “I’m sorry. Hey, tell me about these new games of yours. I’ve missed you guys! I haven’t been here in a couple of days because Hunter was busy studying for his midterms.”

  “I hope Hunter flunks,” Cassie snapped.

  “Yeah. I hope they throw him out of college for being a total jerk,” Caitlin added. “Oops. Hey, Hunter. Actually, not oops. I hope you heard everything.”

  Startled, Div glanced over her shoulder. Hunter stood in the doorway, scowling at his phone.

  “Div, I need to speak to you. Now, please.”

  His demeanor had completely changed from five minutes ago. He seemed angry—really angry. Puzzled, Div rose to her feet. “Of course. We’ll continue this conversation later, girls.”

  Hunter put his hand on Div’s back and nudged her into the hallway, not gently. What was wrong with him? She had to resist the impulse to say a few choice words and storm off. Perhaps instead, she should cast a quick cessabit, to calm him down?

  “What’s up, Hunter?”

  He held up his phone. “Would you like to explain this to me?”

  Div leaned closer to take a look.

  She almost stopped breathing.

  It was a video. Of her and ShadowKnight in that conference room at WitchWorldCon. The quality was fuzzy, and the sound was barely audible, but it was clear she was pointing her lipstick-tube-wand at him. Binx and Iris were out of the frame.

  Worst of all, Binx was yelling incantations at ShadowKnight, but because she wasn’t visible, it sounded as though the magical words could be coming from Div.

  “Huh. Weird. Where’d you get this?” she said innocently.

  “It’s all over social media. Colt saw it just now and sent it to me.”

  “What is this place? And who are these people?”

  “What do you mean? That’s you, isn’t it?”

  Div pretended to squint at the screen. Quick, think of something. “I guess that could be me? Hmm, maybe. You know, I didn’t mention it to you before, because I respect how you feel about Witchworld. But I went to this gaming convention yesterday, in Seattle—my friend Binx practically begged me because her other friend who was supposed to drive her bailed at the last minute—and it turned out to be a Witchworld convention.”

  “Witchworld? You mean that pro-magic propaganda I told my sisters to stay away from?”

  “It’s not propaganda. It’s just a silly game, like your mom said. And the convention was silly, too… just a bunch of gaming nerds spending a lot of money on autographs and posters and stuff. Anyway, there was this… I don’t know, they call it a ‘cosplaying competition’… cosplaying, as in costumes… happening, and Binx convinced me to dress up and participate. And this is probably me with some random cosplayer, although it’s hard to tell for sure from the terrible video quality. In any case, it was all just pretend and playacting.”

  “Div.” Hunter touched her chin and tipped her face up to meet his gaze. “Tell me the truth. Are you a witch?”

  “Honestly, this is all just a—”

  “Answer me!”

  Panicked, Div took a step back from him; should she do a memory-erase or a time-reverse? But before she could decide, she saw over Hunter’s shoulder that someone was coming toward them, shrouded in shadow.

  “Praetereo,” the person called out softly. “Rado.”

  Div tried to hide her surprise. Who was that?

  A second later, Hunter blinked and cleared his throat. He gazed down at Div with a confused expression. “Oh. Hey! I came up here to… I totally forgot. Sorry, too many all-nighters lately, studying for… anyway, I think I need to help put out extra chairs for the meeting. I’ll see you down there in a few?”

  Div forced a smile. “Yes, perfect.”

  Hunter kissed her quickly on the lips and then hurried past her toward the stairs. But Div was no longer interested in his movements. She craned her neck and peered down the hallway, wondering who had rescued her. Who in this house full of New Order members could possibly be casting spells?

  The person stepped out of the shadows, wielding a wand.

  “Hello, Div,” Dr. Jessup said quietly.


  Div gasped. Hunter’s mom was a witch?

  Not possible.

  Maybe it was a trick? A trap to make Div confess to being a witch herself? Maybe Dr. Jessup had pretended to cast praetereo and rado, and maybe Hunter had pretended to lose his memory. The whole thing could be a setup.

  Dr. Jessup motioned for Div to follow her into a nearby bedroom. Div had no choice but to obey and play along. Once inside, Dr. Jessup made sure they were alone, then closed the door. Her face was lined with tension. “Calumnia. And I expunged that video off the Internet just now, with deleanta. Div, I only have a minute, so I’ll make this quick. The New Order meeting is about to begin downstairs, and as you know, I’m in charge of it.”

  Div nodded slowly.

  “I know you saw Penelope’s name in my journal. On Saturday, in my study. And incidentally, the letters O-N-E-G stand for her blood type. O-negative.”

  What. The. Hex.

  “Are you aware of Callixta’s descendant who posted that letter and the excerpts from her magic manual? You must be,” Dr. Jessup went on.

  Div crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t answer.

  “Well, I’m her. I’m Callixta’s great-great-great-granddaughter.”

  This is insane. “You’re lying.”

  “It’s true. I can offer you proof.”

  “You’re telling me that you’re a witch and Crowe’s great-great-great-granddaughter and the leader of the New Order,” Div said incredulously.

  “I had to do that in order to”—Dr. Jessup lowered her voice to a whisper—“in order to protect my daughters from my husband… and from my sons, too, now. You see, Cassie and Caitlin don’t know it yet, but they both possess the power.”

  So I was right about the girls.

  “I wasn’t lucky like you and your friends. I didn’t know about my true identity until I was a wife and a mom. By then, it was too late. I was worried that if I told Jared that I was a witch, he’d try to take the children away from me.” Dr. Jessup smiled sadly. “You may find this hard to believe, but my husband wasn’t always against witches. That happened over time. He made a lot of money at his business and fell in with a different crowd… a very rich crowd that was mainly interested in protecting their wealth and their power. They saw, and continue to see, witches as a threat to that.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  Dr. Jessup stood up a little straighter. “Because time is running out. I will explain more later, but… suffice it to say that things are about to get very, very bad. We witches need to organize and help each other starting immediately. Or it will be too late for all of us.”

  22

  THE GIRL WITH THE ROSE PERFUME

  Even the illusion of love can seem better than no love at all.

  (FROM THE GOOD BOOK OF MAGIC AND MENTALISM BY CALLIXTA CROWE)

  The Kai Rain Forest was a very different place at night. During the school field trip, they’d had the benefit of daylight. Now, as they drove past the sign that said CLOSED FROM DUSK TO DAWN, Ridley peered out the passenger-side window and saw only darkness, punctuated by occasional flashes of headlights winking ghostlike across the blur of trees and dirt road.

  And somewhere in the middle of all this was a witch-hunter from another century.

  “Yeah, so, does anyone else feel we should have waited until tomorrow because of the dark-and-scary factor?” Iris said nervously. She was in the back seat of Binx’s Prius, sandwiched unhappily between Aysha and Torrence.

  “Div’s orders. Besides, we can’t give him time to escape again.” Binx white-knuckled the steering wheel and accelerated slightly.

  “He might already be gone,” Aysha pointed out.

  “Nah,” Binx replied. “I put a magical tracer on his IP location so I can keep tabs on the exact geographical coordinates of his sign-ins. Last I checked, he was here playing Witchworld. Because that’s what psycho-gamer-rats like him do, right? Get in a few rounds of plunder and carnage in the kingdom of Vandervallis while plotting his next IRL witch murder? He hasn’t done a counterspell on my tracer yet, which tells me that he’s too busy stealing treasure from helpless goblin orphans to know that we’re closing in on him.”

  “Fantastic,” Torrence spoke up. “The tracer part, I mean… not the plunder and carnage and orphans part. What’s our plan when we get there?”

  “Maybe we should cast a love spell on him,” Iris said sarcastically.

  Over her shoulder, Ridley saw Torrence blush and turn away. Love spell?

  “I’m assuming that’s a joke. So what’s our real plan?” Aysha prompted Binx.

  “Well, as soon as we get to ShadowKnight’s invisible fun house, which will hopefully be visible or semivisible to at least one of us, we’re going to blast it and him with a group claudo spell, like, immediately. Does everyone know claudo? Imprisonment?”

  There was a chorus of yeses.

  “Good. With all of us on the spell, it’ll be super-O.P.”

  Hmm. Ridley considered this. Binx’s strategy might work since it would be five witches to one. On the other hand, perhaps he was monitoring them right now via a scrying bowl and lying in wait with an arsenal of deadly magical weapons. And what about his claim that Penelope was alive or almost alive, whatever that meant? That must have been a lie to throw them off… right? Honestly, this whole situation was beyond confusing and overwhelming. They had so much to tackle right now—ShadowKnight, the Antima and New Order, Greta’s mom being in jail, and the mystery of Mrs. Feathers’s death.

  And Penelope. Always Penelope.

  This is crazy. I have feelings for a dead girl.

  Ridley began tapping out a melody on her leg, to distract herself. What was it, though? It wasn’t the Kreisler or the Tchaikovsky or any of her other violin pieces; in fact, it sounded chaotic and random and almost arrhythmic. A tune out of nowhere. It reminded her of music from a pinball machine or a video game. Was it ShadowKnight–related?

  Last night, she and Aunt Viola had taken a walk around the neighborhood, and Ridley had caught her up on the events at the Kato family’s beach shack. In response, Aunt Viola had promised to communicate with her coven back in Cleveland so she could offer Ridley advice on how to proceed—which would be helpful on many fronts, including the fact that Aunt Viola and her friends were experts on interdimensional portals and time travel and such.

  Ridley was so glad her aunt was here. And not just for her magical wisdom and mentorship, either. She made Ridley feel safe, accepted, and loved. Ridley wasn’t sure yet if she would come out to her parents while her aunt was in town, or if she would wait a while. It was a huge decision, and she didn’t want to rush things. In the meantime, though, she knew Aunt Viola would have her back, no matter what.

  She brought her musical leg tapping to a close as Binx parked her Prius in the empty lot at the end of the dirt road. “’K, I have ShadowKnight’s IP location on my phone, so we can follow that,” Binx announced as everyone got out. “And Ridley and Aysha… you can confirm my data with whatever you can remember about where that house was and/or where the photos were taken.” She added, “I already cast a mega-protection spell on each of you—’cuz that’s what coven leaders do, right?—so we’re all set with that.”

  “Don’t we need flashlights?” Torrence pointed out.

  “We can do malorna with our wands and turn them into flashlights. We do this all the time—it’s kind of an insider coven thing. I guess you had to be there, Torrence,” Iris said, shrugging.

  “Cool. I know malorna, so I’m all set.”

  “Oh. Okay, whatever.”

  Binx caught Ridley’s eye and mouthed, Love triangle. Ridley nodded and attempted to smile, but she wasn’t in the mood to dwell on love triangles at the moment, or anything having to do with love, for that matter.

  After casting malorna, the five witches proceeded into the woods. Binx was at the front of the line, checking and tweaking her geolocating app every few seconds. As they walked, invisible cre
atures chirped and croaked and whirred in the darkness, becoming suddenly silent whenever the group passed by and then starting up again in their wake. The air smelled damp and loamy the smell of growth but also the smell of decay. Living things and dead things coexisting. Ridley found the juxtaposition at once unsettling and strangely comforting.

  At one point, something far away uttered a shrill scream, and everyone jumped.

  “B-bobcat?” Torrence guessed, looking this way and that.

  “Or, could have been a red fox. Or a barn owl. Or a bunch of other wild animals, too,” Aysha said.

  After a few minutes, Binx stopped in her tracks and squinted at her screen, then pointed her phone toward a faint light through the trees. “There. I think? Ridley and Aysha, does this seem familiar?”

  Aysha peered in that direction. “I’m not the one who had the magical mansion sighting, although this does look like the area where I took those pictures. Ridley?”

  “Agreed.”

  “Okay, then. Everyone, have your wands ready. Claudo, on my mark,” Binx instructed.

  They continued down the path. The faint light grew brighter and brighter as they approached it.

  They came to a halt when they were about thirty feet from the light. Ridley could just make out the shimmering suggestion of walls and windows and doors, like before… although unlike before, she couldn’t see the interior at all.

  “That’s it,” she whispered to the others.

  “What’s it? Because I don’t see anything except for that light,” Aysha said, craning her neck forward.

  “Me neither,” Torrence added.

  “Ditto,” Iris spoke up.

  Binx frowned. “Same. That location’s an exact match on my app, though. And he’s still signed on to his Witchworld game.”