“Yeah.”
“Whoa. You’re so pretty and you can’t even see yourself?”
“Pretty?” He reached toward her, trying to catch sense from what she said. His hand met hers.
“Yow!” she said, meshing her fingers with his. “That’s the weirdest thing! Feels just like a hand, looks like some kind of special effect.” Her hand felt warm and tasted of earth. “Julio? What happened to you?”
“Nathan already said. This guy was trying to make me tell him about you guys, and when I wouldn’t, he said, ‘Think about this for a while,’ and he turned me into a ghost, I guess. He sent me someplace horrible. I called Nathan and came here.
“Are you dead?” Deirdre whispered.
“I don’t know. Nathan doesn’t think so.”
“The colors in Julio’s light are signals,” Nathan said, “and he’s got enough red in him to still be alive. We don’t know what’s being done to his body while he’s away from it, though. If the witch left a void in it, it could be ailing. If he’s put something in Julio’s place …”
“Possession?” Edmund said after a pause.
“Mm,” Nathan said. “I haven’t had dealings with the tribe of demons, but I’ve heard things over the years. This witch sounds wicked, either way. We need more strength.”
“Witch fights,” Deirdre whispered. “I’m just a dumb nothing.” She spoke so softly Julio wasn’t sure anyone was meant to hear, but he heard, and pressed her fingers. Before now, Julio had had his own dark thoughts about remaining ordinary while Edmund had changed into a witch, and Susan had changed into someone who could make the haunted house do tricks. Deirdre and Julio had stayed stubbornly normal since they had met the ghost and the house five years earlier.
Nathan heard Deirdre too, and answered. “Not so. You can be Julio’s anchor.”
“What does that mean?”
“This happened somewhere else, and I can’t leave the house unless I make arrangements. Edmund’s going to have to face the man, and Julio has to have a way of traveling. He seems to be able to propel himself through the house, but he’s been here before and knows his way around. If you’ll let him hang on to you, maybe he can travel with you.”
“Oh. Sure, I’m up for that,” Deirdre said. “It’ll look weird, though, me walking around with this light storm.”
“He can adjust his size.”
“You can?” Deirdre asked.
I can? Julio wondered, then remembered how he had become bigger than the kitchen.
“I’ll try it,” he said. “Excuse me, Dee.” She was the least physically demonstrative person he knew, as uncomfortable with her gender as he was, guarded about touch. He brushed her sleeve with his free hand (I had a thousand hands. Better have only two right now or she might get upset.), trailed his fingers up her sleeve, across the back of her collar, under her braids, and down the other sleeve. She was wearing her big blue all-weather coat: he could tell by the tight, waterproof texture of the cloth, the way the cuffs turned up at the ends of the sleeves, and the hood that hung down her back. Let me be part of this coat, he thought, and melted against her back, touching fabric and binding to it without pressing against her, afraid, afraid that he might spook her or hurt her or make her mad if he touched her too hard or in the wrong place. Just the coat.
“Wow,” she cried, holding her arms out as he spread all over her coat, clinging only to the smooth waterproof fabric, and pulling the rest of himself smaller and more dense. “So beautiful. People’ll want to rip this right off of me. It’s the first time I ever wore something fashionable. You don’t weigh anything, Julio.”
“I’m a ghost,” he reminded her.
“Oh yeah,” she said after a moment. “We gotta fix that.”
“The wicked witch,” Edmund said. “How are we going to deal with a wicked witch? I don’t have much training in this witch business, Nathan.” He had only been a witch for about a year, and aware of what he was for less time than that.
“Call the twins.”
“They don’t have much training either.”
“Call the twins and then summon me.”
“Oh,” Edmund said. “Right. Excuse me.” He snapped his fingers. Julio felt him leave: an absence of the sound of his breathing, a sense of his life energy missing.
“The twins?” asked Deirdre.
“I made three witches when I turned Edmund into a witch,” Nathan said. “The twins live over the mountains in Atwell. They were here for Halloween visiting their aunt, and they decided to come to my house that night. Edmund tried to stop them, and I turned all three of them.”
“Could you do that to me?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t a good thing to do, Dee.”
“How can you say that? He loves it. I know I would.”
“Are you sure? In any case, I can’t do things like that except on Halloween. I didn’t even know I could do it, and I’m not sure I could do it again.”
“The twins,” Julio said. “I think I’ve met them.”
“Who Are these twins?” Deirdre asked.
“Tasha and Terry,” said Nathan. “Since they turned into witches, they found an established witch where they live, and she’s training them. Edmund trains with her too sometimes. The twins visit me. They spent part of last summer in Guthrie with their aunt, and they came over every day.”
“I think I met them at Safeway,” said Julio. “Black-haired, blue-eyed girls? About thirteen? Edmund introduced them to me. He didn’t tell me they were witches.”
“Well, he wouldn’t,” Nathan said. Julio heard the smile in his voice.
“Edmund and these girls are going to call you up in a séance?” Deirdre said.
“I think that would be best. It cuts my bond with the house for twenty-four hours. That way I can go with you, and help,” said Nathan.
“You been in witch fights before?” Deirdre asked. Julio had never heard her ask so many questions in a row, or get so many answers.
“Before I had friends, I fought whenever I could. There wasn’t much else going on back then. It’s possible the craft has changed, but I remember many useful things.”
“Wow,” Deirdre said, and then, “I wish Susan was here. I wonder why she’s not.”
“Piano lesson day,” said Nathan.
“Oh. Yeah, I forgot.” Julio felt Deirdre lift her arm, push her jacket sleeve away from her watch. “She oughta be here soon. How’re we gonna find this wicked witch?”
“Julio should still be connected to his body,” Nathan said. Julio heard the worry in his voice, a flavor like burnt sugar. “A silver string. There should be a silver string. We can follow it.”
“I tried to memorize the drive on the way out of town,” Julio said.
“Did you manage?” asked Nathan.
“Not very well. It was farther than I thought, on roads I never saw before.”
“Maybe you can help us with direction—wait, the witches are calling me. Stay here, Dee. We’ll come back.” Julio sensed Nathan vanish. The interruption of energy felt much more intense than the hole Edmund had made disappearing. The house reached after Nathan, then subsided, having let a part of itself go, pulled out roots and all.
Deirdre walked over and sat on the steps, shoving her hands deep into her coat pockets. “This is spooky,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“Well,” Julio said, “considering everything?”
“Oh. Duh,” she answered.
“I’m much better than I was. When that guy turned me into a ghost, he sent me to a horrible place. It was the worst thing I’ve ever been through. I never want to do that again.” He shifted a little. “This is much better.” Deirdre leaned against the banister, and Julio touched it, reached through its surface to the warm, tranquil, turquoise energy of the house.
“Susan’s coming,” the house told him.
Her footsteps sounded across the porch. The front door opened, and Susan stepped through. “Dee? Hi. What are you wearing?”
“Julio,” said Deirdre. She started to laugh and then she couldn’t stop. She gasped with it, clutched her stomach, almost laid her head on her knees.
“House? Nathan? Water?” Susan said.
“They’re gone,” Deirdre managed between gasped chuckles.
Susan touched a wall, connected to the house immediately— I feel her—asked the house questions, listened to answers too swift for Julio to sense, lifted her hand, walked into the kitchen, got a glass, and filled it with water. She brought it back. She sat beside Deirdre on the stairs and patted her back. Once, twice—the place on her palm where she connected with the house touched Julio, and then he connected to her in ways he never had before. Images stormed through him: a kaleidoscopic flurry of dark images about the pain of her life at home; the surge of joy she got from the first day of school, freshly sharpened pencils and blank college-lined paper, empty blackboards and the refuge of her desk; a handful of sand looked at with a magnifying glass: diamonds. The sea-stone with fossils in it her aunt had given her that Susan carried in her pocket, touched in times of trouble, nearly always. Filigree of green ferns in a fog-wet wood. Julio’s own face, dark and elvish and six years younger, peering down at her between the leaves of an oak tree. The taste of a chocolate milk shake, smooth and cold and sweet and heavy on her tongue, slithery down her throat. An egg-yolk yellow towel—
“Stop that!” Susan snatched her hand away from Deirdre’s back, severing the connection, leaving him with a hundred small cuts on his face and hands. “What on Earth!”
Deirdre took the glass of water from Susan’s hand before she dropped it, and drank. “It’s Julio;’ she said when she could breathe without laughing. “He’s kind of a ghost, and I’m being his anchor.”
“Julio,” Susan said. She touched him with her fingertips. He resisted the temptation to try for another deep connection. “Julio? How can that be? Are you all right?”
“In a way,” he said.
“His body’s somewhere else. We have to go get it and stick them back together.” Deirdre sipped water. “The others will be back. We have to find the witch who cast this spell on him, and get it fixed.”
Julio felt the house’s energy rise, humming. The air shimmered in the front hall, and then Edmund, Nathan, and the thirteen-year-old Dane twins, Terry and Tasha, arrived: the house knew who they were by their shoes and their energies.
Nathan was present in a different way than he had been before he left: free of the house’s restraints, the way he was when he was summoned in a séance. It was the only way he could leave the house except on Halloween.
Julio felt the house’s frustration. With Nathan loose, it had lost a limb, wanted to reattach it, longed for it; but the house knew the rules. The house also understood it was important to let Nathan go just now for Julio’s sake.
Susan stood.
“Oh, good,” Nathan said. “You made it.”
“I can’t stay long or I’ll get in trouble,” she said. “How can I help?”
“If we don’t get home and call you by six,” Edmund said, “could you call Mrs. Clayton?” He dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbled on it with a pencil stub. “Here’s her number. She’s a really good witch who lives in Atwell. Tell her we’re in trouble and need help.”
“That’s only an hour and a half.”
“We’ll probably need her if we can’t make it back by then,” Edmund said. “We already tried phoning her, but she wasn’t home yet.”
“I can do that,” Susan said. “Father won’t let me answer the phone at that time of night, but call anyway. Ring once, hang up, call again.”
“Yes,” said Edmund.
“If I don’t hear that, I’ll sneak off and call Mrs. Clayton for you.”
“Good.”
Susan stroked Deirdre’s coat again. “Julio,” she whispered. “Take care. Be well.” He pressed back against her hand, avoiding the house’s contact place. He had known Susan longer than he had known any of the others, and treasured her in a way he couldn’t put into words. “Call me when you’re back together,” she said.
She rose and walked out of the house, her hand trailing along the wall as she left.
Deirdre stood too, breaking Julio’s connection with the house again. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Can you see the silver string, witches?” Nathan said.
“I see it,” said one of the twins. She came closer. “Julio?”
Julio had walked through the supermarket with Edmund, the twins, and their aunt, talking and helping them load their shopping cart. He had liked them without knowing why.
The twins had identical features, but one of them was a tomboy, and the other one knew she was a girl. Which one was this?
She touched him on Deirdre’s shoulder. Fizzing energy flowed from her touch, and he formed a mental picture. This was the girl twin.
“Tasha,” he said.
Tasha stroked along Julio’s skin. He felt strange—no longer human-shaped but coat-shaped, and without his usual body referents. It felt like Tasha stroked warm fingertips down his spine. She touched Deirdre’s chest. “Hey, hey,” Deirdre said. “Not so close. I don’t even know you.”
“Hi. I’m Tasha. I’m a witch. Excuse me, but the silver string is right here.” She pressed Julio with a fingertip and touched him on the heart. He would have shivered if he could. Tasha curled her hand around him somehow. He didn’t feel it as a physical sensation: it was stranger than that, as though she had caught him by the dream. “Got it,” she said.
The others closed in around them.
“Hey.” said Deirdre, “who are these kids?”
“They’re my witches,” Nathan said. “Tasha and Terry Dane. They’re helping, Deirdre. Tasha and Terry, this is my friend Deirdre. Julio I guess you already know?”
“Yep,” said Terry. “Not in this form, though.”
“Let’s fix that. Hold hands,” Nathan said. Julio felt them all shift; Deirdre linked hands, but he didn’t know with whom. They pressed in around him, Nathan against his front, Edmund and Terry against Deirdre’s back; he felt their clothes. Leaning against Deirdre’s left arm, Tasha kept hold of him in that strangely intimate way. “Tasha, guide. Edmund, can you carry us?”
“I think so.”
“I’ll help,” Terry said.
“Armor up,” said Nathan. The three witches murmured. Julio felt iron in their words, and martial music. He could sense plates going up around them. “Let’s go.”
Deirdre gasped as the house slipped away from them. Julio clung to her. Even though he knew the witches had armor in place, he was conscious of the loss of his warm, safe haven, the house, aware that they were out in some space with miles below them. He felt invitations from many different voices, the songs of trees and streets and people, a magnet song from the Earth, a tidal song from the sea, calling to him and inviting him to harmonize. What if he followed them down? Maybe he could join, be part of all those different songs forever. Could anything be better than that?
Fragments of himself lifted, reached for each song they passed. “Dee,” he whispered.
“Yow,” she said. “Hang on, Julio. Don’t go!”
He reached up past the edge of the coat and touched her face, the back of her neck. She tasted like dried sweat and determination, with a trace of chem lab.
“Okay, yeah, just don’t cover my mouth. I need to breathe,” she said, the song of the ordinary in her voice, and he touched the corner of her lips because in the midst of this strange blind journey he longed more than anything else to return to his ordinary self.
They brushed through a barrier, gauzy and woven with turnback and stay-away songs; they didn’t pause to listen.
Then they stopped.
Songs and energies in the air: he could feel the blank dark presence of the stranger who had kidnapped him, a pedal point on a string bass, with drum. Nearby, the younger man’s viola and cello symphony posed constant questions, found no resolutions.
>
Julio felt an almost unbearable stirring: home cried to him, cried for him, missed him. His body thirsted for him, and he hungered to return to it.
“Wait,” Nathan said before Julio could leave Deirdre and stream across to where he knew his body was. “There’s someone inside it.” The witches stood all around Julio and Deirdre, anyway, and their armor was still in place. Julio wasn’t sure how he would get to himself.
“Who are you, my children?” The bass voice of his abductor still had music in it.
“Feed me,” said another voice, this one, chillingly, Julio’s own trained tenor: he could hear the discipline in it, the honey tone he never heard from inside his head. “Give them to me. Such a symphony of wonderful tastes.”
“Stay,” said the bass voice. “Sit.”
“Woof,” Julio’s voice said.
Julio, hugging Deirdre, almost laughed. Who was this Other who spoke with his voice, and almost his thoughts?
“What have you done to Julio?” Nathan asked.
“It was only supposed to be temporary, but I called him and couldn’t find him to switch them back.” The bass voice held regret. “You are the friends he wouldn’t talk about, aren’t you?” Now he sounded interested, almost eager.
“Perhaps,” said Nathan. “Do you know where you sent him?”
“Just over the wall. It’s a discipline I often use with children who won’t behave. It’s temporary and leaves no permanent damage. I’ve never had a problem with it before.”
Rage flashed through Julio, so hot Deirdre flinched. No permanent damage? He didn’t think he’d be able to get that place out of his head no matter how long he lived.
He hugged Deirdre tighter. She squeaked, and he relaxed.
“But now you’re here,” the bass voice continued. “In a roundabout way, my interrogation worked. Apprentice, the spell we prepared—”
Nathan interrupted, in low, freezing tones, “Banish the other in him.”
“I can’t leave the body untenanted—”
“We brought him with us.”
“Did you?” Interest quickened the deep voice. “How did you manage that? Won’t you come closer?” Julio heard compulsions edge his voice. Deirdre took a step forward. Nathan, in front of her, didn’t move, so she bumped into him. Séance had rendered him solid enough for her to touch. Her feet kept trying to walk.
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