This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead) events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2012 by Geof Johnson

Cover Art by Dan Johnson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

ISBN: 9781624883576

Chapter 1

Fred fairly danced as she led her parents across the street to Jamie Sikes’s house. Her dancing partner was her shadow, made long by the setting sun on her left.

“Honey, you sure are being mysterious about this picnic,” Lisa said from behind her. “And could you please slow down? Your legs are too long now. I can’t keep up.”

They walked down Jamie’s driveway and Larry jogged up to Fred’s side. “Why are we bringing jackets? It’s going to be pretty warm tonight. It’s still September, for cryin’ out loud.”

Her mother joined Fred on her other side. “And where are we having it? If it’s not in their backyard, and we’re not driving, then where? It’s not in their house, is it?”

Fred bounded up the three red-brick front steps, pressed the doorbell and rounded on her parents. “Will you two stop? I told you it’s a surprise and you’ll like it, I promise.”

The door opened behind her and Rachel, Jamie’s mother, said, “Hey, it’s the Callahans! We’ve been waiting for you.” She stepped back and held the door all the way open. “Come on in.”

Lisa followed Fred and Larry inside the wooden-floored front hall and said, “Rachel, are you sure we shouldn’t bring something? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake in the ’fridge.”

Rachel took Lisa’s jacket. “No, no, we have everything.”

They entered the comfortably furnished family room where Jamie stood with his father, Carl, next to the coffee table. Fred flipped her curly mass of red hair behind her shoulders, wrapped her arms around Jamie and kissed him on the mouth, her foot rising as she said, “Mmmmm,” punctuating the end of the kiss with a loud smack.

Larry shook his head. “I’m still having a hard time getting used to that.”

Lisa laughed. “Jamie, seems like it wasn’t that long ago that you’d rather eat dirt than let Fred kiss you.”

Jamie grinned sheepishly. “Oh. Yeah. Well, you know, uh....”

“Now that he’s finally admitted that he loves me, we have to make up for lost time,” Fred said. She kissed him on the cheek. “I get to kiss him as much as I want, now.”

Larry frowned. “Do you have to do it in front of me?”

“Would you rather they sneak off somewhere to do it?” Lisa said.

“Hmph,” Larry grunted and ran a hand through his stiff red hair, already gray at the temples. He turned to Carl. “So what’s the deal on this mystery picnic?”

“We’ll show you in a minute,” Carl said. “But we have to do something first.”

“You have to swear an oath,” Fred said.

Lisa’s brow furrowed. “An oath? What for?”

Rachel put her hand on Lisa’s shoulder. “Now don’t freak out. We’re going to show you something really special and amazing, but we can’t do it until you’ve sworn the oath. Carl and I did it already.”

Larry stepped back, a suspicious look in his eyes. “Are we joining a cult or something?”

Fred grabbed Larry’s arm and dragged him to the coffee table, where a Bible lay in the center. “Don’t be such a baby, Dad. Just say the oath, okay? I did it when I was eight years old, and I didn’t whine about it.”

Lisa and Larry looked at each other. Rachel said, “It’s okay. It’s really going to be worth it.”

“Trust us,” Carl said. “We’re your best friends.”

“Okay, I guess,” Lisa said hesitantly. Then she took a deep breath, held it for a moment and said, “Oh, come on, Larry, let’s do it.” She looked at Rachel. “How does this work?”

“Kneel beside the coffee table and put your hand on the Bible.” She picked up a sheet of paper from the shelf beside her. “Larry, kneel next to her and put your hand on top of hers.”

Larry did, and Fred and Jamie joined them, placing their hands on last. Rachel placed the paper in front of them. “Read this aloud.”

“Are you sure about this?” Larry said.

“Dad!” Fred glared at Larry. “Just do it.”

He looked at the paper with Lisa and they read, “I solemnly swear in the eyes of God and my friends to never tell or reveal to anyone what we are about to see and hear tonight.”

Fred felt the familiar warm tingle flow up her arm. Their hands on the Bible began to glow, then flared brilliantly and faded.

Larry jerked back. “Whoa! What was that?”

“That was magic, Daddy.” Fred said with an impish smile.

“That’s one of Jamie’s tricks, right?” Larry looked at Carl and Rachel, who shook their heads.

“For real?” Larry said.

Carl nodded. “For real.”

“You’re joking,” Lisa said.

“No.”

Lisa gave a little nervous laugh. “Yeah. Right.” She looked at Rachel. “That tingle...it was kinda like what I felt when our bellies touched when we were pregnant.”

“I know!” Rachel’s eyes went wide. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Fred put her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. “And Jamie and I feel it every time we kiss.”

Larry stared at his hand as if it were a stranger. “No wonder you want to kiss him so much.” He looked at Rachel. “But really, what’s this all about? And don’t say it’s magic.”

“We’ll show you. We weren’t sure how to do it, so we decided to try this.” Rachel grabbed Lisa’s elbow. “Don’t faint, okay? I’ll stay right beside you just in case.”

One corner of Lisa’s mouth pulled up in a huh? “Faint? What are you going to do?”

Carl looked at Jamie. “Show them.”

Jamie stepped to an open space in the room and outlined the glowing shape of a door in midair.

“Whoa,” Larry said, dragging the word out.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Fred patted her father’s shoulder. “Jamie, make sure you leave it open in case somebody has to go to the bathroom.”

Jamie pushed the door wide, revealing a rocky landscape. Larry and Lisa stared, open mouthed.

Fred laughed. “Told ya’.” She skipped through the doorway, grabbing Jamie’s hand and dragging him with her. “Come on. It’s wonderful!”

* * *

Rachel stood by Lisa’s elbow as Lisa exchanged wide-eyed looks with Larry.

“Larry?” Lisa moaned. She turned and stared at the doorway as if she were looking at the gates of hell.

“I know, honey.” Larry’s face was drained of color.

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know. I...I’ll go if you do.”

Carl grabbed Larry’s forearm and pulled him toward the open portal. “Come on, buddy. You really gotta see this.”

“But what is it?”

“It’s another world. We’re going to have a picnic on another planet.”

Larry’s eyebrows drew down. “For real?”

“You don’t have to keep saying that. It’s for real.” Carl pulled him through while Rachel waited with Lisa.

“Are you ready?” Rachel said.

“Unh huh,” Lisa muttered without taking her eyes off of the doorway.

“I’m right here.” Rachel patted Lisa’s arm as she guided her toward the opening. “You’re going to love it, Lisa.” They stepped through onto the expansive rocky ledge. Lisa looked at the three full moons overhead.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Rachel said. “We waited ’till tonight to do this just so you could see them.”

Lisa gaped at the sky, turning in a slow circle. “Where are we?”

“We don’t know for sure. All we know is that it’s an uninhabited planet.”

Lisa looked at Rachel and blinked quickly several times. “No. That’s not possible.”

“Oh, yes it is. Now let’s go sit down and we’ll tell you all about it.” She guided Lisa to the far side of the broad ledge, where a picnic table covered with food stood. Carl tended a portable grill nearby. Larry sat at the table with the dazed look of a man whose personal circuit breaker had been overloaded. Fred and Jamie were about a hundred feet in the air, twirling with their arms around each other.

“What are they doing?” Lisa asked numbly.

“Dancing,” Rachel said. “Come on, let’s have a seat. We have so much to tell you.”

* * *

Evelyn Wallace drove down the street toward the Sikes’s house. A chocolate bundt cake was on the seat beside her. They’re going to love this, she thought. It’s one of Jamie’s favorites. I haven’t made one for him in a while.

She pulled her white Buick into the driveway. It looks like they’re home. Wonder why they won’t answer the phone. She walked up the front steps, cake in hand, and unlocked the door with the key she’d had since she lived there in the mother-in-law suite. She stepped inside and called, “Yoo hoo! Anybody home?”

She got no answer, so she walked down the hall to the family room. “Rachel. Carl. Jamie,” she called again.

She stopped when she saw the open magic doorway in the middle of the family room with the eerie moonlit landscape beyond.

* * *

“I still can’t believe it,” Larry said, sitting, head in hands at the wooden picnic table with the others.

Lisa shook her head slowly. “It sure explains a lot of things, though, like the magic shows, and the —”

“What’s this?” came a woman’s voice behind them.

Rachel turned suddenly. “Mom!”

“Gramma!” Jamie said.

Everyone looked to see Evelyn, standing nearby with a cake in her hand, her eyes showing thunderclouds. “Can someone please explain what is going on here?” she said in a level voice. “Why is your picnic table out in the middle of,” — she gestured with her free hand — “wherever this is? She looked up. “With three moons.”

“Oh.” Rachel, put her hand to her mouth. “Uh, well, Jamie, why don’t you run inside and get her a chair, because the benches are full. Better bring the Bible, too, so she can do the oath. Then we’ll explain everything.”

* * *

“Yeah!” Larry shouted and pumped one fist after the rock exploded in a dazzling shower of sparks and debris. “Throw another one, Carl.”

Carl looked at Larry. “Your attitude certainly has changed.

“Well, I didn’t know Jamie could do this.” He grinned and pointed at Carl’s hand. “Are you gonna throw that or hatch it?”

Carl bent low and then hurled the tennis-ball sized rock straight up. Jamie spun, pointed his finger, and fired a yellow-white bolt of energy that caught the stone missile at its zenith, pulverizing it into dust.

“Whoa!” Larry and Lisa clapped. Lisa said, “That’s better than fireworks.”

“Carl,” Rachel said, “why don’t you two take a break from the pyrotechnics and tend to the burgers before they burn.”

Evelyn sat at the end of the table, leaning back in her chair with her hand to her face, one finger pressing into her cheek. “So Jamie’s been doing this for how long?”

“He’s been doing magic forever,” Fred said. “I think he learned how to blast stuff when we were eight.”

“And all of this came from some old wizard?”

“Yes ma’am. His name was Eddan.”

Jamie joined them and sat beside Fred. “Like I said, Gramma, he was a really powerful sorcerer who got wounded by the psycho wizard.”

“Renn?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Mom,” Rachel said, “you seem to be taking this all very calmly.”

Evelyn pressed her lips tightly before answering. “I’m not all that surprised, if you want to know the truth. I’ve had my suspicions all along, because we’ve had some strange things happen at your house, especially when I was still living there, but I couldn’t be sure. But it’s true, isn’t it?” She looked at Jamie. “You’re a real magician.”

“Sorcerer, Gramma.”

“What’s the difference?” Larry said.

“Sorcerers have real power. Magicians use tricks. It’s a matter of professional pride.”

Evelyn leaned forward in her chair and rested her hands on the table. “So this Eddan fellow was a sorcerer, too?”

“Yes ma’am, a master sorcerer. The cream of the crop, I guess you might say.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I’m sorry, Gramma, but the oath wouldn’t let me tell. Mom and Dad just found out a couple of weeks ago.”

“When you killed Renn?”

“Yes ma’am.” Jamie looked at his hands in his lap.

“How do you feel about that?”

“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Carl said. “He feels bad, even though it was self-defense.”

“And that guy was a serial killer,” Rachel added. “Could you imagine what would’ve happened if he’d gotten loose around Hendersonville?”

“There already was an unexplained death at a shop out on Highway 64,” Carl said. “Shopkeeper had a small hole burned all the way through his skull.”

Jamie gave a tight nod. “That was probably Renn. That was his style.” He looked at Evelyn and bit his lower lip. “Are you disappointed in me, Gramma?”

“For what?”

“For killing him.”

“No.” Her expression softened as she regarded her only grandchild. “I’m not. You did the right thing, Jamie.” She suddenly looked at Carl. “I think everybody’s hungry. Are the hamburgers ready yet?”

* * *

Later, Jamie walked his grandmother out to her car.

“That was quite a night, Jamie,” she said as she pulled her keys out of her purse.

“Yes ma’am, it was. Are you sure you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“I’m not mad, for the tenth time.” She leaned against the car door and crossed her arms. “Are you going to tell anyone else?”

“Mom and Dad think I should tell everybody in the family — Aunt Connie, Uncle Ray, and Gina and Cory — because they might find out anyway and tell somebody else. We decided it’s better to bring them into our confidence than risk a slip up. That way we can get them to say the oath and they won’t tell.”

Evelyn looked at her hand and slowly shook her head. “That oath is something, isn’t it? Do you and Fred really feel that tingle all the time?”

“Most of the time.” He glanced at his feet for a moment. “I was so afraid you’d be mad or disappointed.”

“You know me better than that.” She put her arms around him and patted his back. “I’d have to say I’m proud of you.”

“Really?”

She nodded and let him go. “I knew you were going through a really hard time there for a while, but I thought it was just problems with Fred or typical teenage stuff. But now that I know you were dealing with all that pressure...being hunted by a psychotic serial killer! I think you handled it very well.” She patted his face. “I think we raised you right.”

“Thanks.” He kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll tell the rest of the family soon, I promise.”

She smiled. “I can’t wait to see Connie and Ray’s faces when you take them to that other world.”

“We’re going to need a bigger picnic table.”

She chuckled and got into her car. Jamie stood in the driveway until she drove out of sight.

* * *

Fred was reading in bed when she heard the knock. “Yes?”

Lisa opened the door a crack and said, “Am I disturbing you?”

“No, Mom. Come on in.”

Lisa closed the door behind her and sat on the edge of Fred’s canopy bed. Fred lay on top of her red comforter, surrounded by lace-covered pillows and stuffed animals. Lisa said, “That was really something, what Jamie showed us tonight.” She pulled at a strand of her shoulder-length reddish-blonde hair, watching Fred as she did. “I’m still trying to get my head around it, though.”

“Dad seemed to warm up to it, don’t you think?”

“Hah!” Lisa shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. “Once Jamie started showing off and blasting rocks to smithereens.”

“Jamie’s always keen to blast things. He doesn’t get much of a chance.”

“I’m sure.” She tapped her knee and bit one corner of her lower lip. “Tell me, that tingle. Do you and Jamie really feel that every time you kiss?”

“Well, not every time. Not if I give him a little peck on the cheek or something. But a real kiss?” Fred shivered. “Ooh, yeah.”

Lisa stared at her, eyes wide. “I wonder what it’s like.”

“Why don’t you kiss Jamie and find out?” Fred laughed with her mother. “Wouldn’t work, though. Only does for me and Jamie.”

“Do you think it goes back to that time when I was pregnant and touched bellies with Rachel?”

“Probably. But now we’re marked for life.” She smiled wistfully at her mother. “I’ll never be able to kiss another boy now.”

“You don’t want to, anyway, right?”

“Is that a real question?” she said with a straight face, then laughed. “No, we are in love, Mom.”

“I know, I know. He told me, too, and I think that’s sweet. But do you think you’d love him even if you didn’t have the tingle?”

“Of course! You know Jamie. He’s the absolute best person, and he’s cute as he can be, and he’s—”

“He’s got his father’s jaw. I think he’s more handsome than cute, especially now that he’s getting older.”

“But he’s got his mother’s blue eyes, and his hair is so blond and curly and, oh!... I want to kiss him right now just thinking about it.”

“About the kissing, honey.” Lisa pressed her lips tightly together before continuing. “I’m happy that you’re in love, and I’m thrilled that it’s with Jamie, but could you be a little more discreet around your father? You know he likes Jamie a lot, but your father’s having a hard time dealing with you being so...affectionate in front of him.”

Fred scrunched her face. “Dad’s a prude.”

“Not really. He’s just a little conservative that way. I don’t think he kissed me in front of his parents until our wedding.”

“Well, that’s his problem, not mine.”

“Fred, do it for me. Please?”

Fred looked at her mother for a long moment, bottom lip tucked under a tooth. “O — kay,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll try. But how about Jamie’s parents? Do they have a problem with it?”

“I know Rachel doesn’t, and I don’t think Carl is as bad as your father. But try to be considerate when you’re around other people. Nobody wants to see you smooching Jamie all the time.” She leaned over and kissed Fred on the cheek. “Except for me.”

They laughed, and Lisa left Fred to her book. Fred watched her mother walk out and thought, She’s the only one who really knows how much in love Jamie and I are.

* * *

A lone witch, dressed all in black, staggered down a dark Louisiana road on a moonless night. The neon lights of the bar were hundreds of yards behind her, and the music from the jukebox had long since been swallowed up by the warm humid air. Her graying hair and her clothes reeked of cigarettes; the raunchy tune she sang was punctuated by frequent hiccups, accompanied by the croaking frogs and the occasional alligator bellow from the marsh on her left.

The shoulder of the road was uneven, full of holes and high weeds, so she walked on the asphalt, not exactly in a straight line, but in the general direction of home. There were no streetlights, no porch lights, and few headlights to illuminate her way, just the feel of the hard pavement beneath her old boots to assure her she was on the right path.

Her shadow stretched before her as the light from an approaching vehicle grew. She heard the roaring engine behind her but didn’t turn, stepping off the road onto the shoulder. But when her foot landed in a hole, she lost her balance and stumbled back onto the highway.

Chapter 2

Jamie sat behind the steering wheel and watched Rollie slide into the back seat of Jamie’s old blue Buick, the car that had formerly belonged to his grandmother. Fred was already in the front next to Jamie.

“Dude,” Rollie said, “I’m so glad your parents finally let you drive to school. I’m tired of riding the bus. There oughta be a law that says seniors shouldn’t have to do that.”

Fred leaned across the seat and kissed Jamie on the cheek with a loud smack. She looked back at Rollie. “Does it bother you when I do that?”

Rollie fastened his seat belt. “Nah. I’m used to it.”

“My mom says that people don’t want to see it.”

“Don’t care. Kiss him all you want.”

Jamie looked at Rollie in the rear view mirror as he started the car. “Where’s your bag?”

“My football bag? Don’t need it. I’m quitting.”

“Dude! Are you serious?”

“Yep. I’m still third string and I haven’t played a down in either of our first two games, so I’m done. My parents want me to focus on my grades, anyway.”

“They sound like mine.”

“Yeah, and I talked to the basketball coach, and he said I’ve got a real good chance of getting some playing time this year if I keep working on my three-point shot.”

“Even though you’re only five-seven?”

“Huh,” Rollie grunted. “But I can knock down the outside shot, Baby.”

“Well, you know Fred and I will be there cheering for you, ’cause we’re the Crew, right?”

“We can’t be beat,” Rollie said, a grin splitting his dark face.

Together they shouted, “Everybody smell our feet!”

* * *

Carl shared an office with two other detectives. One wall was lined with filing cabinets and a whiteboard; two others were filled with shelves overflowing with books and papers. One wall was dominated by a long window with open blinds that looked out on a long room where the uniformed officers worked.

On his desk was a file, an unsolved case, of the murder of shopkeeper Sheldon Steinhauer. Inside were two photos of the deceased’s head, showing the small hole in his forehead and the exit wound on the back of his skull. The skin around the holes was cauterized, suggesting high heat. A sticky note was pasted to one photo that had “Possible laser?” written on it in green ink.

Carl had talked to Jamie about it a few days ago, and Jamie, his science-freak son, had assured him that a laser powerful enough to burn through a human skull would only be found in a research institute or an industrial facility and would be too massive to be portable. Jamie had taken his father to the back of their yard and demonstrated how Renn might’ve killed the shopkeeper. Jamie shot a white-hot pencil-thin beam from his finger that burned through a watermelon in a microsecond.

It’s a good thing that psychotic wizard is dead, Carl thought. Then he realized something even more important: It’s a good thing Jamie’s a good kid. With the power he has, he could be a monster like nobody’s ever seen around here. Carl closed the file and dropped it on the far edge of his desk.

I bet Jamie is the only sorcerer who goes to church every Sunday. He laughed to himself. I also bet he’s the only one who has a grandmother like Evelyn Wallace.

* * *

Jamie was in the boys’ locker room after school, sitting on a wooden bench, dressing out for cross country practice, when Bryce walked up. “Hey, Jamie, you know that new guy, Spencer?”

Jamie leaned past Bryce to peer down the row of lockers.

“Don’t look.” Bryce said in a low voice.

“What about him?” Jamie leaned back and brushed off his bare foot before pulling on a short white sock.

“I heard he’s been talking trash about you and me. Seems he’s upset that we got named captains.”

“What’s the big deal?” Jamie pulled on the other sock. “He’s just a junior anyway, and coach won’t let juniors be captain. We’re the two fastest guys right now, too.”

“Well,” Bryce said, and leaned closer, “I heard his dad donated some big bucks to the athletic booster fund, and for some reason he thinks that makes him entitled to it.”

“So what?” Jamie slipped on a running shoe. “Your dad donated, too. You’re Richie Rich, right?”

Bryce’s face clouded. “Wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“Manny did.” An image of last year’s team star popped into Jamie’s mind.

“Well, that was Manny, and he’s gone off to college now.”

“He’s probably got some nicknames for his college teammates already, I bet.” Jamie pulled on his other shoe.

“So what do you think we oughta do about Spencer? If he’s gonna run his mouth, he’ll hurt the team.”

Jamie rubbed his chin for a moment. “We could talk to the coach, but I don’t think that’ll fix the problem.” He stood and straightened his shirt. “How ’bout if we run some of Manny’s workouts this week? We’ll tell Spencer that if he can keep up, we’ll suggest that he ought to be a captain.”

Bryce laughed. “If he can keep up on one of Manny’s workouts, he deserves to be captain!”

* * *

Late Thursday afternoon, Jamie and Bryce were already in the school parking lot, walking around and warming down after a hard workout, when Spencer plodded up, gasping and red-faced.

“Hey, Spencer!” Bryce looked at his watch. “You’re two-and-a-half minutes behind.”

Spencer staggered past them, bent over and heaved.

“Yeah, running those last two miles under eleven minutes used to get to me all the time,” Jamie said. “Especially after running those first eight miles hard.”

“Next week we gotta run the last two under ten-thirty,” Bryce said. “That’ll be fun.”

Spencer retched again and Bryce said, “Hey, you still want me to talk to Coach about you being captain?”

Spencer shook his head wordlessly, still bent over, hands on his knees. Bryce elbowed Jamie and grinned as they walked toward the locker room.

* * *

Saturday morning, Jamie and Bryce ran shoulder-to-shoulder across the back field of their high school toward the meager crowd that waited in the sunshine. Jamie glanced over his shoulder to see the nearest runner dozens of yards behind. “Wanna kick?”

“Nah,” Bryce said between breaths. Two strides before the finish, Jamie slowed and Bryce finished first, a half-second ahead of Jamie. They slapped hands and Jamie glanced at his watch. “Good race, buddy.”

As they walked around, catching their breath, someone called Jamie’s name. He looked over to see his parents with his grandmother.

“Nice race, Son,” Carl said when Jamie joined them.

Rachel handed Jamie a water bottle. “Why did you slow up?”

“It was Bryce’s turn to win,” Jamie said, still breathing heavily. “We have an agreement to take turns if it’s an easy meet.”

Evelyn frowned. “Sounds a little cocky to me.”

“I didn’t mean to. It’s just that we were pretty sure one of us would win, but neither of us is shooting for a cross country scholarship, so....” He shrugged.

“Okay, that makes sense,” Carl said.

“Jamie,” Rachel said, “today’s your Great Uncle Ray’s birthday, and we thought maybe we could celebrate with a picnic.” She winked. “At our special spot. The one that’s out of this world.”

Jamie laughed. “Do you want to tell them about you-know-what tonight?”

“If it’s okay. Connie, Gina, and Cory are coming, too.”

“Oh, wow.” Jamie ran one hand through his sweaty, curly hair. “I guess we’ll tell the whole family at once. That’ll be interesting.”

“Don’t forget about my sister,” Rachel said. “But if we tell Sophie, it’ll have to wait until she comes for Thanksgiving.”

“What can I get Uncle Ray for his birthday?”

“Something to remember the occasion. A gag gift, maybe.”

Jamie’s face lit up. “I know.” He leaned close to Evelyn and whispered something in her ear.

She laughed and said, “Perfect. You can get it made at that shop downtown.”

* * *

Fred and Jamie watched as Evelyn shepherded Aunt Connie and Uncle Ray toward them through the magic doorway onto the expansive rocky ledge.

“They look stunned,” Fred said.

Jamie glanced over at his cousin Gina and her husband Cory, who stood near the edge of the cliff, holding hands and looking at the moonlit valley below. “They seem to be doing okay.”

Larry stood near the doorway, gesturing broadly at Jamie’s aunt and uncle. “Come on, Connie and Ray, it’s great! If I can handle it, anybody can.”

Connie looked up. “Three moons?”

“They were all full last week,” Evelyn said from behind them. “It was pretty amazing.”

“This is a real place?”

“It’s real. It’s another world.”

“Unh,” was all Ray managed to say, his narrow face a mask of shock.

Gina turned to look at Jamie. “So it’s true, then. This is another planet, and you’re really a magician.”

“Sorcerer.” Jamie gave his head a tight shake. “I’m a sorcerer.”

“Wow.” Cory nodded. “If that’s true, then it’s the coolest thing ever!”

“We’re having burgers again,” Carl said, tending the grill beside the table as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Hope that’s okay.”

Rachel unpacked food with Lisa at the picnic table and the long folding table next to it. She counted chairs and said, “We’re still one short. Jamie, could you get us a folding chair, please?”

Jamie started outlining another doorway and Carl said, “What are you doing?”

“Making a doorway to the garage.”

“Don’t be lazy, Jamie,” Evelyn said, pointing at the other open doorway a couple of dozen yards away. “March yourself in there and get one.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said without hesitation, jogging toward the open portal.

* * *

Rachel looked at her uncle. I feel sorry for him. This is hard to accept. Ray had listened in stunned silence to the story of Jamie’s magic. She reached across the picnic table and squeezed Ray’s hand. “It’s okay,” she said. “Try to think of it as being something really special.” Ray looked at her but only blinked.

“Special?” Larry said. “Real magic? How about ‘amazing’, or ‘fantastic’, or ‘unbelievable’, or —”

Lisa poked his shoulder, “We get the idea.”

Connie shook her head. “But...all this time? He’s been like that since he was born?”

Evelyn nodded and glanced at Jamie, who was engrossed in conversation with his cousin, Gina, and her husband, Cory. “We always knew he was special, but not that special.”

Connie frowned. “I feel bad for him that he had to kill that other sorcerer. I know that must’ve been hard for him...he’s such a good boy.” She looked down the table at Fred, who was leaning on Jamie’s shoulder. “But I’m so happy that they’re in love now. They seem perfect together.” She turned back to Lisa. “Your daughter is so lovely. Is Fred still tap dancing?”

“She’s teaching a beginner’s class on Tuesday evenings and Saturday mornings. It’s her first job.”

“Fred’s finally getting paid to boss people around,” Rachel said.

“Is she still trying to boss Jamie around?” Connie said.

“Don’t think so. He’s not complaining about it.”

Lisa gave a short laugh. “And she hasn’t kicked him in years.”

Just then, Jamie and Fred jumped up from their seats and ran toward the cliff’s edge, holding hands. Then they floated up toward the moons as music began to play from somewhere.

Ray covered his eyes with his hands and whimpered.

Lisa chuckled as she watched her daughter put her arms around Jamie and twirl, hundreds of feet in the air. “They’re dancing in the sky — that’s what Fred calls it. It’s really something, what those two have together.” She put both hands to her cheeks and shook her head slightly. “To think that most people have to search for years before they find their soul mate, but they’ve —”

“Soul mate?” Larry raised his eyebrows.

Lisa gave him a sharp look. “Yeah, soul mate. The One. The Perfect Match. Call it whatever you want, but it’s still —”

Larry put his hand on her arm. “Okay, okay, they’re in love, I know. Fred only tells me about ten times a day.”

Lisa’s gaze turned back to Jamie and Fred. “It’s not just a puppy love, either. I think it’s the real thing.”

“Oh no,” Carl groaned. “Here we go again. Just like with the prom. You’re already planning their wedding, aren’t you?”

“Carl, don’t be so unromantic!” Rachel said.

Carl shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“From where I’m sitting, I’d have to agree with Lisa,” Connie said.

“Thanks, Aunt Connie,” Rachel said, shooting a hard look at Carl. “They have a special romance. I think we can all agree on that.”

Maybe the most special ever, she though wistfully.

* * *

“I don’t think Ray’s having a good time,” Rachel whispered to her mother.

“I know,” Evelyn whispered back. She leaned across the table and patted her brother-in-law’s hand. “Ray, this is all my fault. I thought it would be fun to do this for your birthday, but I didn’t realize it would be so...difficult for you. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. How about if I take you to lunch?”

“Evelyn,” Ray said, his mouth firm, “I’m not I child. I can handle it.” He wiped his face with one hand and looked at the distant moonlit mountains for a moment. “It’s just a lot to process right now.” Then he looked back at Evelyn. “But I will let you take me to lunch.”

“Good.” Evelyn managed a smile. “Let’s do your presents now.”

They had to coax Jamie and Fred out of the sky so they could have birthday cake and give Ray his gifts. Jamie saved his for last. He handed the blue paper- wrapped gift to his uncle and said, “I talked with Gramma about this. I thought it would remind you of tonight. I had to get it custom-made.”

“What is it?” Ray said as he tore the wrapping from the rectangular box. Then his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together.

“Let’s see it, Ray,” Evelyn said.

Ray held it up and showed it to everyone. It was a white T-shirt with lettering on it that said, “I went to an uninhabited world and all I got was this lousy T-shirt!”

The whole family laughed, and Connie kissed her husband on the cheek.

* * *

Two witches. One tall, with bleached blonde hair and too much makeup, the other short and pudgy with dyed red hair and a dress that was too short for her stubby, stockinged legs, stood together at the open door to the chapel at Smythe and Sons funeral parlor, thanking the other mourners as they left.

The last one, a heavy, bearded man, offered his tattooed hand. More tattoos decorated his upper arms, left bare by his sleeveless black shirt. A chain was attached to a belt loop and a wallet in his back pocket. His black motorcycle boots were scuffed.

“Rita, Cassandra, I’m real sorry about Isabelle,” he said, his voice a guttural rasp. Rita, the shorter witch, took his hand in hers. Her nails were painted black, and she wore black lace gloves with the fingers exposed. He nodded. “If you need anything, you just let me know.”

“Thanks, Dan,” Rita said. “It was good of you to come.”

They watched him walk out, and Cassandra, the tall witch, held up the black and red porcelain urn she had cradled in her arms. “What do you want to do with this?”

Rita took it from her, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and took the top off. Then she poured the powdery contents into a large potted plant that stood nearby. Cassandra looked at Rita with one eye squinted and one side of her mouth pulled up.

“What?” Rita said. “She always loved nature.”

“Rita, that’s a plastic plant.”

Rita reached over and rubbed one of the long leaves between her thumb and forefinger. “It is, isn’t it? Well, it’s more natural, now.” She chuckled.

Cassandra frowned, which couldn’t have been easy with the quantity of makeup she had plastered on her face. “You’re sick, you know that?”

“I know. I’m thirsty, too.” She patted Cassandra on the shoulder. “Feel like getting a drink?”

Cassandra grinned. “Thought you’d never ask. I could use a cigarette, too. Can’t believe we’re not allowed to smoke in here.”

They walked out to their rusty old car, and Rita held up the empty urn. “What do you want to do with this?”

“Take it home and put potpourri in it.”

They both snorted laughter as they climbed into the car.

Chapter 3

“Rachel, do you need more coffee?” Lisa said as they sat on her concrete patio, the sun slipping below the poplar and pine trees that lined the edge of the back yard and the air already cooling from the late September heat.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Something I’ve been wanting to ask.” Lisa took a sip from her cup and got a thoughtful look. “That doorway to that three moon planet? Can Jamie make doorways to other places?”

“He can make them just about anywhere on Earth. Two weeks ago, he made one to Waikiki Beach. Oh my gosh, it was so great!” She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

“He just...opened up a portal, and you stepped right onto the sand?”

“He made the doorway on a nearby building so no one would notice.”

“I hadn’t thought about that. I guess it would look weird to pop out of nowhere.”

“Right. But nobody thinks twice about people stepping out of a door from a building.”

“Well, that explains why you were so sunburned at church the next day.” She put her hand on Rachel’s arm. “Do you think he’d make one for me and Larry? I’d love to go to Hawaii.”

“Oh, sure. Don’t forget about the time difference, though. It’s five or six hours, I think.” Her eyes widened. “Maybe we could go next Saturday!” She shook one hand excitedly. “Yes! Your family and my family...dinner on the beach!”

“Could we? Oh, but wouldn’t that be late?”

“No, it’ll be dinner for us, but lunch in Hawaii. There’s an outdoor café right by the shore. It’s got thatched umbrellas and an outdoor bar and a fellow playing steel drums and —”

“Say no more, Sugar. I’m there.” Lisa wiggled her shoulders and smiled sinfully. “Tell me, can Jamie make doorways to other worlds besides the one he took us to?”

“Quite a few, I think. Not all of them have breathable atmospheres, though, I hear.”

“How about the world where the old sorcerer came from?”

“Eddan? Jamie can make one there, I think, but he’s afraid to. He doesn’t want to run the risk of drawing the attention of any other sorcerers.”

“I can see why. I guess one crazy wizard showing up in your family room is enough.”

“Hah!” Rachel put her hand to her face. “You have no idea.”

There was a long silent moment while they both sipped from their cups. Lisa sighed. “I sure wish Adele and Garrett could go to Waikiki with us. I hate it that they’re getting left out.”

“But there is no possible way we can tell them. None. Garrett would freak out.”

“We’re going to have to think of other ways to stay close to them. Adele is too good of a friend.”

Rachel held up one finger and said brightly, “Nail party. At the spa. Just the three moms.”

Lisa nodded. “Nail party it is.”

* * *

Jamie pulled on his sunglasses to block the glare of the morning sun as Fred and Rollie clicked their seatbelts.

“We’re good,” Rollie said from the back seat. “Let’s roll, Baby.”

Jamie backed the car out of his driveway and said, “Hey, Gramma wants to know if you guys want to do another show.”

“Give me the details. What? When? Where?”

Jamie put the car in drive, and they headed down the road toward school. “It’s next month, the third Saturday, at the Thomas Wolfe Auditorium in Asheville. It’s for the Young American Talent Search.”

“That’s on TV,” Fred said, checking her makeup in the mirror on the sun visor.

“I don’t know if this one will be, since it’s the first round. Second round is in Atlanta. Finals are in New York, and those are definitely on TV.”

Rollie frowned. “New York? Who’s gonna pay for our air fare?”

Jamie looked in his rearview mirror at Rollie. “I don’t know, but the grand prize is fifty thousand bucks. Second prize is twenty-five.”

Rollie gave a low whistle. “That’d go a long way toward paying for college, wouldn’t it?”

Fred turned in her seat so that she could face Rollie. “If you’d get your grades up a little higher, you might be eligible for some kind of academic scholarship. That’s what I’m shooting for.”

“Yeah, well you’re a lot closer than I am to getting that.”

“If you didn’t spend so much time practicing basketball, you’d make better grades.”

Jamie smirked. “You’re assuming he’d study if he wasn’t shooting baskets.”

Rollie lowered his eyebrows. “Hey, I’ve been studying harder, for your information. I studied with Tanisha all afternoon on Sunday.”

“I bet you studied. Studied, Tanisha, I’m sure. Studied her legs, studied her lips, studied her —”

“Stop!” Fred said. “At least he’s trying.”

Rollie rolled his window half-way down and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. “If my GPA slips even a little bit, my mom’s gonna make me quit basketball. Might ground me from dating, too.”

“We’ll help you study, Rollie.” Fred nudged Jamie. “About this talent show.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s in about three or four weeks, so I thought we’d enter. We could own it, don’t you think?”

Fred nodded. “We’ve done a ton of shows, that’s for sure. We’re almost pros.” She patted her chest with one hand. “I’ll do it.”

“I’m in,” Rollie added. “For fifty grand, heck yeah.”

“I’m not going to try to win,” Jamie said. “I don’t need the money for college, but I think it would be a cool show to do.”

“Cooler than the doin’ old folks’ homes,” Rollie said.

Fred put her makeup back in her purse and arched an eyebrow. “Maybe the best show yet.”

* * *

Jamie and Bryce were already dressed out and ready to run when their coach called them into his office. The room was small, with cluttered shelves lining the walls and a small wooden desk. “Have a seat, boys,” the coach said as he closed the door behind them. He sat in his chair, leaned both elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers. “Do you have any idea why I called you in here?”

They shook their heads as they sat and he said, “It’s about Spencer. His dad called me last night and reamed — me — out.” He gave his head a shake with each of the last three words. “He’s pretty upset because he thinks you guys are picking on his son. Says you’re running him ragged. Any truth to that?”

Jamie glanced at Bryce and looked back at his coach. “Not really. We’re all running the same workout. We’re not asking him to do anything we’re not doing.”

“But whose workouts are you running? Mine? Or your own?”

The room was silent for a long moment before Bryce said, “Actually, we’re running some of Manny’s.”

The coach crossed his arms and gave them a level look. “You changed the workouts without talking to me first?”

They looked at their laps and mumbled, “Yes sir,” in unison.

“Are these Manny’s workouts from last year?”

“No sir,” Jamie said. “They’re from his college coach.”

“Where did you get them?”

“Manny sent them to me. We stay in touch, mostly by e-mail and text.”

The coach drummed the fingers of one hand on his desk. “And how are you doing in these workouts?”

“Pretty good, actually,” Bryce said, his face brightening slightly. “They’re hard, but not that much harder. We’re getting close to the times we’re supposed to be hitting.” He held one hand up, thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

“We’re sorry, Coach,” Jamie said. “We didn’t mean to go behind your back, but it’s just that we really wanna do good this year.”

The coach leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and took a long breath through his nose. “Good. That’s why I made you captains.” He leaned forward and shook one finger at them. “But next time, clear the workouts with me, understand?” Both boys nodded and he continued, “I don’t want you overtraining.” He stood and walked to the door. “Run my workout today. From now on, forward me any workouts Manny sends you so I can look ’em over.” He opened the door and gestured for them to leave. “Now get out of here.”

Chapter 4

Jamie was the first through the magic doorway into the brilliant sunshine of Waikiki. He squinted and raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, then looked around to see if he’d been observed. Nobody seems to be paying attention, he thought. He turned back to the opening. “All clear.”

Fred strolled out, totally nonchalant, her sunglasses and white beach hat already in place, a long T-shirt covering her bathing suit, and white sandals. Carl and Rachel were next, followed by Lisa and Larry.

Larry tilted his head back and looked up at the towering hotel where the magic doorway was affixed. “Wow. That’s huge.”

Lisa squealed with excitement, her hands fluttering and her eyes wide. “We’re really here! We’re in Hawaii. Larry, can you believe it?” She squeezed Larry’s arm as he nodded.

“Jamie,” Rachel said, do you think anyone saw us?”

Jamie shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. They don’t know that doorway wasn’t there before.”

“Where’s the restaurant?” Larry said.

Carl pointed. “Just past the pool, close to the beach. Next to that stand of koa trees.”

“So that’s what those trees look like,” Lisa said, her head on a swivel as they started down the sidewalk that wound through the carpet-perfect lawn.

I feel so conspicuous, Jamie thought. Are people looking at us? He felt better, though, when a portly man crossed in front of them, his checkered shorts pulled up past his bellybutton, chomping an unlit cigar. He wore black dress socks with black wing tip shoes.

Fred turned to face her parents and said in a low voice, “Gee, Dad, that guy looks dorkier than you.”

“Thanks a lot.” Larry gestured at his clothes. “I’m not dressed all that bad.”

“Untuck your shirt.”

“I like it tucked in.”

Without a word, Lisa reached over and snatched his yellow shirt loose from his waist.

“Hey!” Larry said.

Rachel laughed. “I agree with Fred.” She pointed ahead of them. “This is the spot.”

The outdoor restaurant was at the edge of the beach. Wooden tables, edged with bamboo, were covered by thatched umbrellas, and palm trees lined the perimeter. An open-air bar was at one end, covered with a matching thatched roof, and the bartender wore a blue flowered Hawaiian shirt. A musician playing steel drums was set up in one shady corner.

“I love this!” Lisa said as they entered. “Look!” She pointed at the azure water, sparkling in the glorious sunshine, where catamarans with colorful sails zipped just outside the breaking waves. Countless tourists lounged on the sandy beach, many under red and yellow striped beach umbrellas. Palm trees, slender and graceful as ballerinas, lined the shore as far as they could see.

“Look down there.” Carl pointed to their left, past a long row of hotels, to a volcanic ridge that dominated the horizon. “That’s Diamond Head.”

Lisa pulled out her camera and snapped a picture.

Rachel shook her head, frowning. “You know you can’t show that to anybody. You’d have to explain how you got here.”

“I know.” Lisa put the camera back in her purse. “It’s just for us. Don’t want to forget this, do we?”

A hostess was already seating Jamie and Fred at a long oval table, so the parents joined them.

“I asked to be seated over here,” Jamie said, “so we won’t be overheard if we accidentally say something about you-know-what.”

“Good thinking,” Lisa said, picking up a menu. “I want one of those tropical drinks with a little umbrella in it.”

“Try a Hawaiian Margarita,” Carl said. “It’s made with pineapple.”

“Can I have one?” Fred said.

“A virgin one,” Larry answered.

Fred wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. “That means no alcohol, right?”

“No, it means they’ve never had sex with another margarita.”

Lisa patted Fred’s arm. “I’ll let you have a sip of mine, if you stop making that I-smell-a-fart face.”

As they surveyed their menus, Lisa said, “Rachel, is this the only place y’all have visited?”

“We went to Switzerland, remember? To get the money Eddan gave us.” The old sorcerer had taken the money from the house he’d sold Jamie’s parents, put it in a Swiss account, and left it to them when he died.

“Oh, I forgot about that. Was that awkward when you went there? Don’t they speak German or something?”

“Enough of them spoke English, but I was as nervous as a tight rope walker with the hiccups.”

Larry put down his menu and looked at Jamie. “I have a question. If that evil wizard guy, Renn, or whatever his name was...if he was from another world, then how could you understand him when he talked?”

“He spoke English,” Jamie replied, gazing over the top of his menu.

“He had an accent, though,” Rachel said. “With a slight burr...Irish or Scottish sounding, I thought.”

Larry’s brow furrowed. “How could he possibly know English?”

Jamie worked his mouth slowly from side to side and sifted through his cache of Eddan’s memories. “I think there used to be a lot more coming and going between our two worlds.” He scratched his cheek. “A long time ago. Centuries, maybe. Most of the sorcerers knew how to make doorways. They stopped for some reason, and most of the wizards who knew how to make them died off. But culturally, the two worlds weren’t all that different. Must’ve been a lot of cross-pollination going on.”

Fred smiled and patted Jamie on the arm. “My boyfriend, the geek. He uses big words.”

Rachel put her menu down beside her plate and leaned back in her chair. “I don’t remember Eddan, or Mr. Edwards as he called himself, having an accent when we were dealing with him about the house. Maybe a little bit of one, but not much. I figured he was from Europe somewhere.”

Jamie nodded. “He’d been to Earth a lot. He liked it here, especially the Western part of North Carolina. He loved the scenery, and he really liked the people.”

“It’s a good thing,” Carl said, “or you never would’ve been born. Eddan would’ve helped a childless couple somewhere else have a baby, instead of us.”

The whole table was silent for a moment.

“That’s too weird to think about on an empty stomach,” Lisa said and looked at her menu again. “Let’s order.”

* * *

Lisa finished her drink and set it next to her empty plate. “That was yummy.” She looked at Rachel. “One more?”

Rachel gave her head a little shake. “Maybe in a few minutes.”

“You need to slow down, honey,” Larry said. That’s your second one.”

“Oh, foo.” Lisa waved her hand loosely. “It’s not like I have to drive anywhere, right?” She giggled and shook her reddish-blonde head. “There’s no law about walking through magical doorways while under the influence, is there?” She giggled again.

Rachel couldn’t help but smile. Lisa’s really enjoying herself. Everyone was, she thought. She looked around slowly at their tropical surroundings. It’s hard to believe we’re doing this. Dinner at a beach in Hawaii. So amazing.

Fred pushed her plate back and stood. “I’m done. Come on, Jamie, let’s go in the water.”

“You’re supposed to ask him, honey,” Lisa said. “Don’t be bossy.”

Jamie dropped his napkin and stood, too. “That’s not bossy, Mrs. Callahan. Not like I’m used to, anyway.”

Fred dropped her hat in her chair and pulled off her T-shirt. She nodded at Jamie. “Take yours off, too.”

“Now you’re being bossy.”

“Yeah, Jamie,” Lisa said. “Take it off. We wanna see your muscles.”

Jamie’s face grew red and Rachel said, “You’re embarrassing him.”

“Fine,” Jamie grunted. “I’ll take it off.” He slipped his tan cotton shirt over his head and dropped it on the chair. “Satisfied?”

“Oooh!” Lisa said admiringly, and turned to Rachel. “He’s starting to fill out, isn’t he? His shoulders aren’t as broad as Carl’s, but he’s not skinny anymore.”

“He’s as tall as Carl now,” Rachel said.

Jamie scowled. “Are you done with your critique?”

Lisa waved her hand in a shooing motion. “You kids go play.”

Fred rolled her eyes, let out an exasperated sigh, and grabbed Jamie’s hand. “We won’t stay long.” She kicked off her sandals and Jamie did, too.

“Don’t get lost,” Carl said. “Jamie’s our ticket home.”

* * *

Jamie and Fred walked out of the restaurant’s gate and headed for the throng of tourists and the water beyond. Jamie frowned, “I think your mom’s getting tipsy.”

“She can be annoying when she’s had a drink or two.” Fred leaned over and lightly kissed Jamie’s cheek. “But you are starting to fill out. Make a muscle for me.”

Jamie shook his head as they wound their way through the crowd of beach umbrellas, their feet sinking into the loose sand with each step. “You’re worse than your mom.”

Fred laughed and pulled Jamie toward the water. “Let’s run!”

Holding hands and laughing, they raced the last thirty yards to the edge of the shore. They ran a few steps into the surf before Fred stopped. “It’s cold!”

Jamie wrapped his arms around her. “Better?”

“Much, thanks.” She pulled his face to hers and kissed him. Their lips parted, but she kept close to Jamie, whisper close. “Hope my dad’s not watching. He gets upset when we do this.”

Jamie looked back in the direction of the restaurant. “He can’t see us. An umbrella is in the way.”

“Good.” She kissed him again, but Jamie cut it short and shifted his body so that he faced away from the shore.

“Don’t turn around,” he said. “I think I just saw Mrs. Shlotsky on the beach.”

“The school guidance councilor? What’s she doing here?”

“She just got remarried, remember? This is probably her honeymoon. And if she sees us, she’ll probably want to know what we’re doing here.”

“What can we do? We can’t stay out here all day.”

Jamie glanced back at the shore. “She’s not looking, but as soon as she sees your red hair, she’ll know it’s you.”

“Can you change my hair color?”

Jamie bit his lip. “Dunno. Maybe. What color?”

“Blonde.” She patted her curls. “Don’t you think?”

“You’ll stand out too much. How about brown?”

Fred made a pouty face. “Brown? Bleah.” She sighed. “Okay, brown. But it’ll only be temporary, right?”

“I won’t change your actual color, just the way the light reflects off it. I’ll change the frequency of the —”

“Skip the science lesson, professor. Just do the spell.”

“Okay.” Jamie thought for a moment. “I’ll start with a small change and see how that works.” He gestured and Fred’s hair became less red. He shook his head. “Not enough.” He gestured again and it turned light brown.

Fred held up one end of a stray lock and inspected it. “That’ll do. Wouldn’t want to make it permanent, though.” She chuckled. “It’s not my look.”

“No, I like you better as a redhead.” He put his arms around her. “One more kiss and let’s head back.”

* * *

Jamie was the last one through the doorway. He stepped into their family room, turned and gestured, and the glowing outlines vanished.

“That was amazing, Jamie,” Larry said. “Just amazing. Thanks so much.”

Lisa rubbed her hands together gleefully. “So where are we going next week?”

Carl frowned. “Maybe we should give the magical travelling a week off. It’s time we did something that included Garrett and Adele.”

“I think so, too,” Rachel said, setting her purse on the coffee table. “I don’t want them to feel like we’re leaving them out.”

Larry pulled at one earlobe. “How ’bout if we have a cookout in our backyard?”

Fred shook her red curls. “Jamie and I will be bored. Can we skip it?”

“We’ll see.” Larry pressed his lips together and rubbed his chin. “Jamie, I can see why you wanted us to swear that oath. If word got around about what you’re capable of, you’d never get any peace. People would be pestering you to do all kinds of stuff. You’d have to hide somewhere.”

“I think that’s what happened to Eddan,” Jamie said. “He eventually got tired of people asking him to take care of their problems, so he shut himself in his tower and ignored everybody until they gave up and stopped knocking on his door.”

“Did he ever get paid for his services?”

“Yeah, plenty. That’s how he saved up the money that he used to buy this house.” He gestured broadly at the room around them. “But he didn’t need any more money, or want it. He just wanted to study magic.”

“We promise we won’t bother you about doing stuff,” Lisa said.

“I don’t mind helping you.”

Lisa patted Jamie’s face and said to Rachel, “Don’t you just love this boy? He’s so good.” She turned to Fred. “Don’t you ever let this one get away, ya’ hear?”

* * *

Two witches sprawled on either end of their black vinyl couch, watching television. The only other light was from a small lamp on a table beside the front door. Stubby candles, unlit, with wax pooled at their bases, were scattered around the room in various ceramic holders. Deep shadows formed on the red-painted walls; dark furniture was covered in books and knick knacks and clutter.

There were no silver moons and stars hanging from the ceiling. There were no Tarot cards spread on the nearby table. There was no smell of incense in the air.

“It stinks in here,” Cassandra said. “Smells like a brewery. How much did you spill?”

Rita picked up the beer can from beside her and gave it a slight shake. “’Bout half, I s’pose.”

“Any bourbon left?”

Rita grabbed the bottle from the floor and passed it to Cassandra. She took it and said, “Next time, spill this instead. Might kill some of the mildew in the carpet.” She barked a short laugh.

Rita scowled. “Don’t see how you can smell anything...always got a cigarette in your face.”

Cassandra frowned and brushed ashes from her chest. “You smoke almost as much as I do.”

Their feet were propped on the low table in front of the couch. A Sterno stove sat in the middle between their bare feet, surrounded by bits of herbs, two small unstoppered bottles, and a mortar and pestle.

Cassandra took a swig from the bottle, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gestured at the clutter before them. “You ever gonna finish that potion for Geraldine? We could use the money.”

Rita reached over and took the bottle back from Cassandra. “Can’t seem to remember how.” She waved one hand at the bookshelves. “Recipe’s in one of those books somewhere, I guess. Isabelle was always better at this spell.”

Cassandra chewed one corner of her lip for a moment. “I miss her, you know? Didn’t ever think I would...she was so annoying and bossy sometimes. But now that she’s gone, I miss her.”

“Me too, Cass, me too.” Rita rolled the neck of the bottle between her fingers, resting the bottom on her paunchy belly. “If she’d a’ ridden home with John that night, she wouldn’t a’ gotten run over.”

“They fought too much,” Cassandra said sagely. “He said she was mad at him because he wouldn’t let her play pool with him.”

“Don’t blame him. She sucked at pool.” Rita gave a little laugh. “But she was good with potions.”

There was a long moment of silence as the two women stared at the television without watching. Cassandra said, “We’re gonna need a third witch soon.”

“I know Cass.” Rita took a long breath through her nose. “I know.”

Chapter 5

Rachel opened the oven door and peeked at the roasting chicken. I think it’s done. She switched the oven off and called, “Jamie, dinner’s ready. Will you set the table, please?”

Jamie put down the book he was reading on the family room couch, leaned forward to get a better view of the kitchen, and gestured with one hand. A cabinet door opened and a plate floated out.

“Not that way, Jamie,” Rachel said. “The old-fashioned way.”

“Yes ma’am.” He walked into the kitchen, grabbed the plate out of the air and pulled two more out of the cabinet.

Rachel put one hand on her hip. “I know you’re keen to use your magic every chance you get, but I don’t want you getting lazy.” God, I sound like my mother. “Try to save it for special....” — she fumbled for the right word— “circumstances. Or situations. You know what I mean.”

“Okay.” He set the plates on the table. “How about if I’m trying something new? I gotta practice that stuff, or I might do something wrong and make a mess.”

“All right, as long as you’re careful. But if you can do something by non-magical means, like taking out the garbage or something, then get off your butt and do it. Don’t be waving your hands and wiggling your fingers instead. Gramma would have a fit if she saw that.”

“Yeah, she would.” Jamie’s smile was lopsided. “How come you’re not as strict as she is?”

“Would you like me to be?”

Jamie shook his head firmly.

“Good. Now go out to the garage and tell your father it’s time to eat.”

* * *

Fred was on her way to homeroom when she saw a familiar adult heading her way across the hall. Oh no, it’s Mrs. Shlotsky. Fred tried to duck behind a group of students but was too late.

“Fred!” Mrs. Shlotsky waved and walked toward her.

“Oh, hey Mrs. Shlotsky. How was your honeymoon?”

“It’s Mrs. Pringle, now.” She beamed as she joined Fred. “It was great, but too short. We went to Hawaii, and just got back last night.”

“That’s awesome. You look like you got some sun.”

“A little too much, I’m afraid. Funny thing...when I was at the beach on Saturday, I saw somebody that could be your twin, I swear. And she was with a blond-haired boy, too!” She shook her head. “What do you think the chances are of that happening?” Fred shrugged and the woman continued, “I could’ve sworn she had red hair just like yours, but when I looked closer, it seemed more of a light brown.”

“Oh, well, my hair’s definitely not brown.”

“No, it’s red. Very red.” She touched Fred’s hair. “It’s lovely. I’m glad it’s not brown.”

This is awkward. “Thanks, Mrs. Shlotsky, I mean Mrs. Pringle. I gotta run, okay? Congratulations on your wedding and stuff.” Fred turned and hurried off. That was too close. Jamie and I have to be more careful.

* * *

On her way to second period, Fred heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Fred, wait up.”

Melanie McCaskill. Oh great. What does she want?

The girl with the long blonde hair caught up and walked beside Fred, her books clutched to her chest, her dark eyes earnest. “Hey. I haven’t talked to you in a while.”

Why bother now?

“How’s Jamie?”

“Fine.” You’d better not be trying to ask him out again.

Melanie winced. “I haven’t gotten a chance to say anything about what happened at Bryce’s party.” Melanie had found Jamie alone in Bryce’s living room that night and kissed him, pretending to hold mistletoe over his head. “I’m real sorry about that, Fred. Honest. I’m not usually like that. I don’t want you to think I’m a slut or anything.”

“Because you kissed him?” Fred said. He said it wasn’t a very good kiss. “No. I don’t think that.” Maybe just a little.

“Good. It’s just...it’s just that you were there with Kyle, and Jamie was alone and all...and....” She gave her head a tight shake. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She stopped and grabbed Fred’s arm. “Do you forgive me?”

Huh? Fred didn’t want to forgive her. She was still mad at her for kissing Jamie. Melanie was the prettiest girl in school, she could have any boy she wanted, and Fred was still deeply jealous of her. But she seems so sincere.

Against her instincts, Fred said, “Okay.”

A look of relief spread across Melanie’s face. She squeezed Fred’s arm and smiled, her dimples deepening in both cheeks. “Thanks. I feel so much better. You don’t know how much sleep I’ve lost worrying about it.”

Really? Maybe she’s not so bad. “Do you forgive me for asking Jamie to the Sadie Hawkins dance even though I knew you wanted to?”

“Oh, sure.” She gave a brief nod. “It would’ve been strange, anyway, if he’d gone with me.”

“Are you still with Michael?”

Melanie’s smile was sheepish. “Yeah. This is our second year, off and on.” They continued walking down the hall and Melanie said, “I’m glad you and Jamie are together. Everybody knew you would be, eventually.”

“Everybody but Jamie.” Fred chuckled.

Melanie grinned. “He didn’t stand a chance. Nobody does against you. You’re the prettiest girl in school.”

Fred stopped again. “What? Give me a break, Melanie. You’re the prettiest girl in school.”

Melanie shook her head firmly. “Now way, Fred. You are.”

“You’re crazy. You are definitely —”

“You gotta be kidding me!” A boy with brown hair hanging over his forehead, his backpack slung over one shoulder, walked around them, turning his head to talk to them as he passed. “This is the dumbest conversation I’ve ever heard. You’re both the prettiest.” And he walked away.

Melanie looked at Fred with eyebrows raised.

Fred had never considered the possibility. Nobody could be in the same league with Melanie, with her long, straight, golden-blonde hair, large brown eyes, and perfect face. Fred had noticed the occasional stares directed her way from boys, too, but had never paid much attention to them. The only boy’s attention she wanted was Jamie’s.

Fred shrugged. “Okay. Let’s leave it at that.”

Melanie nodded. “Then we both are. We can have our own club. A club of two.”

“I’ve never had been in a club at school before,” Fred said with a straight face.

Melanie flipped her hair back behind her shoulder with one hand. “The Prettiest Girls in School Club.”

“Okay.” Fred grinned.

“I’ll go tell the yearbook staff so they can take our picture.” Melanie’s eyes widened and her hand went to her face. “Oh. That sounds conceited. You do know I’m kidding, don’t you?”

“I’m not.” Fred winked and they laughed before going to their separate classes.

* * *

Jamie, Fred, and Rollie sat together in the bleachers on Friday night; the lights sparkled like clustered stars on tall poles in the cool, clear early October air. The band was playing the school fight song, but few sang along. Fred was talking to the group of kids sitting next to them.

Jamie nudged Rollie. “You’re not paying much attention to the game.”

“Huh?” Rollie said. “Oh. I’m trying to catch Tanisha’s eye.”

Rollie’s sweetheart was down on the edge of the field with the other cheerleaders, vainly trying to fire up the meager crowd in what was looking to be another loss.

“Rollie, I don’t think she’s supposed to be looking at you.”

“She blew me a kiss a minute ago.” He waved at her but she didn’t wave back.

Jamie nudged Rollie again with his elbow. “So what did you think of the vet clinic?”

“Okay, I guess. Thanks for taking me over there today and getting me the job. I can really use the money.”

“Do you think you can handle it tomorrow morning ’till I get there?”

“What time’s your cross country meet over?”

“About 9:30. I should get there a little after 10:00. You won’t be helping with the examinations yet, just taking care of the animals in the back. I already had a talk with them, so they’ll behave for you.”

Rollie chuckled. “Funny. It’s like when your parents get a babysitter.” He shifted to a falsetto voice. “Honey, be good ’till Mommy gets back.”

“You don’t want to get bit, do you?”

“No, I’m glad you talked to ’em. So, what’ll I do during an examination?”

“I’ll show you tomorrow. It’s not too hard. You just have to hold the animals a special way when the doctor gives them a shot. I don’t have to do that, though. I usually just put my hand on their head and talk to them with my mind. Cats are harder, though. Their brains are so different.”

“Cats are autistic.”

Jamie laughed. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. But I think you’ll like the job.”

* * *

Jamie drove straight from the cross country meet the next morning without showering, pulled into the parking lot of his older cousin’s veterinary clinic and thought, Hope Rollie’s doing okay. Took me longer to get here than I expected. He walked in and waved to Judy, the receptionist, on his way to the back. When he put his hand on the door to the room where they kept the cages, a chorus of barks arose. They know I’m here. He smiled to himself.

Inside, he found Rollie, wearing the familiar blue scrubs that the assistants wore, holding a small plastic scoop and cleaning out a cage. “’Bout time you got here.” Rollie said. “You’re missing all the fun.”

“So how’s it going?” Jamie pulled off his sweaty shirt as he talked.

“Fine. All the animals are behaving so far.”

Jamie slipped on his scrub top. “Have you helped with any exams yet?” He kicked off his shoes and slipped out of his running shorts.

“No, but I heard Boris is coming in at 11:00. They want you to assist.”

Jamie chuckled, pulling on his scrub bottoms. “That dog is ornery. Wanna help?” Rollie looked unsure, so Jamie added, “It’ll be fine. I’ll chill him out, and you can get to know him. Cousin Earl will think you’re as good with dogs as I am.”

“You mean, Dr. Carter?”

“Right.” Jamie pulled his shoes back on. “You need to get this stuff down quick so you can start working more. How many hours are they going to give you?”

“I come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school and Saturday, nine to one.”

“Is that going to mess up your basketball practice?”

“I’ll cut back here soon as official practice starts. Right now, I need the money, honey.” Rollie closed the cage and opened another. “Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do in that show that’s coming up?”

“The Young American Talent Search? Not really. I figured I’d just do some ordinary off-the-shelf magic with some comedy. Nothin’ fancy ’cause I’m not trying to win. How ’bout you?”

“I’ve been working on some new material lately. I took my dummy with me to my church youth group last Sunday and did a little ventriloquism... tried out some new jokes.” He held up one thumb. “I think it’s gonna be good.”

“Maybe you’ll win.”

Rollie poured food into the bowl inside the cage. “Hope so. Fifty grand is a lot of money.”

* * *

“Dad, can Jamie and I watch a movie in the basement tonight?” Fred asked that night as she and her father stood on their concrete patio.

Larry threw a match on the charcoal, watched it flare up, and turned to face her. “No, not during the party.” He opened the back door and Fred followed him inside, where Lisa was making hamburger patties at the kitchen sink.

“Why not?” Fred said.

“Because I want you upstairs with us so I can keep an eye on you.”

“But the party is gonna be boring. It’s just all you parents. Rollie told me he’s not coming.”

“His parents are,” Lisa said from the sink.

“Whoopie.” Fred held up her index finger and twirled it. “Well, how ’bout if we watch at Jamie’s house?”

Larry pulled buns out of a paper grocery bag on the kitchen table. “Not without a chaperone.”

“What do you think we’re going to do, Dad? We’re just going to watch a movie or something.”

Larry stopped and gave her a steady look. “It’s the something I’m worried about.”

Fred pouted. “You treat me like a baby.”

“Honey,” Lisa said, “it’s not that we don’t trust you, it’s just that it’s not appropriate, that’s all.”

Larry pulled out more buns. “I don’t trust them. I was a teenager, once.”

Fred scowled. “Yeah, back in the dark ages.” She could tell that her father was trying to pretend the matter was settled by turning his back to her, taking paper plates out of their packages. “Okay then. Jamie and I will go riding around in his car.”

Her father turned to face her. “No, you won’t.”

“Am I grounded?”

“Well...no.”

“Then we can go, right?”

“Larry,” Lisa said, “I’d rather they stick around here. Then I wouldn’t worry about them.”

Larry stopped and looked at Fred, then Lisa, then back at Fred. He made fists with both hands and gritted his teeth. “Fine. Watch a movie in the basement.”

“Thanks, Daddy!” Fred threw her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek.

He shook one finger at her. “But don’t do anything your mom and I wouldn’t do.”

Chapter 6

Evelyn set her coffee cup down on the table and wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?”

“The toilet must be backed up again.” Connie turned in her seat and looked at Ray, who was watching the baseball playoffs in the living room. “Honey, did you call the plumber?”

Ray kept his eyes glued to the television. “It’s Sunday night. All I got was their answering service.”

“Do you need to borrow my bathroom?” Evelyn said. Her condo was close to Connie’s, less than a stone’s throw away.

Connie frowned. “We may have to. But I don’t know what we’ll do in the middle of the night. Ray gets up all hours to pee. He’ll never make it ’till morning.”

“You could put a big pot under the bed.” She laughed. “A chamber pot.”

“Like we used to use at Grannie Sarah’s.” Connie turned around again. “You hear that, Ray? We’re gonna put a pot in our bedroom for you to go in during the night.”

“Ha ha,” Ray said.

Evelyn fingered her cup. “Did you call Carl?”

“Rachel said he’s working.”

“Hmm.” She rubbed her chin with the knuckle on one finger. “I bet Jamie could fix it.”

“Does he know anything about plumbing?”

“Probably not, but he could use his magic.”

Connie lowered her eyebrows and took a deep breath through her nose. “I don’t know.” She raised her voice. “What do you think, Ray? Want to ask Jamie to do his magic on the toilet?”

“If it’ll get you to leave me alone so I can watch the game.”

Evelyn pulled out her phone and called Jamie.

A few minutes later, Jamie stepped through a glowing doorway into Connie’s living room. “Hey, Uncle Ray,” he said as the door winked out.

Ray grunted a greeting.

“Whatcha watchin?” Jamie glanced at the TV. “Oh, baseball.”

“In here, Jamie,” Evelyn said.

Jamie walked into the kitchen, and Connie said, “That was fast. Did you fly?”

“No ma’am, I made a doorway. I’m in the middle of studying for a big test, and I didn’t want to take the time to drive.” He frowned. “Don’t tell Mom. She doesn’t want me doin’ stuff with magic that I can do the old-fashioned way.”

“She’s starting to sound like you, Evelyn,” Connie said.

Evelyn nodded. “I think that’s a good policy. I don’t want you getting lazy, either, but I think it’s okay that you made a doorway.”

Connie shook her head slowly. “I’m still trying to get used to that. Sure is convenient, though, isn’t it?”

“Yes ma’am,” Jamie said. “Where’s the bathroom? I need to get this done and hurry back.”

Evelyn led him to the bathroom, and he knelt by the toilet, closed his eyes and put one hand on the bowl. After a moment he looked up and said, “There’s a clog about five feet down.” He closed his eyes again and furrowed his brow. He stood and pushed the handle down, and it flushed with a satisfying whoosh.

“There you go. Good as new.” He turned the water on in the sink and spoke as he washed his hands. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll head back home.”

Jamie and the two sisters walked back into the living room. Jamie said to Ray, “Enjoying the game?”

He looked at Jamie and scowled. “When these two biddies aren’t pestering me, I am.”

“Why don’t you watch in your bedroom?”

“This is our only television,” Connie said. “It’s wasteful to have more than one in this little condo.”

Jamie looked at Evelyn. “She sounds just like you, Gramma.”

“That’s a good thing, Jamie.” Evelyn kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for coming.”

“My pleasure.” Jamie looked at Ray. “You want to come watch at my house? We have a nice TV in the basement now. I could bring you back as soon as it’s over.”

Ray’s eyebrows lowered. “Through a doorway?”

“It’s fast. Express service.”

Evelyn could tell from Ray’s expression that he was seriously considering it. Funny how our attitude about magic has changed so fast, she thought, now that we know how convenient it is.

Ray gave his head a tight shake. “Maybe some other time.”

“Okay. See you later.” Jamie outlined the doorway, stepped through and was gone.

* * *

Evelyn lay in bed later that night, pondering what had happened: Her grandson had performed an astounding feat of magic, making a doorway and crossing miles of space as if he were walking from the bedroom to the hall, and he’d acted as if it were an ordinary, everyday thing.

When I see his reaction to the magic, it seems almost normal...almost...but when I really think about it, it’s unbelievable.

Then Jamie had performed the most mundane chore of fixing a stopped-up toilet, just by touching the bowl. Amazing. She chuckled and thought, I wonder if Merlin ever had to fix any plumbing.

* * *

Jamie gasped as he vainly tried to make up the gap between him and Bryce on Monday afternoon’s workout. Bryce stopped at the edge of the football field, which was their usual finish, looked at his watch and scowled, shaking his head.

Jamie finished and glanced at his own watch. That’s a pretty good time. Bryce obviously doesn’t think so. Jamie caught up with his friend, who was staring across the field with his hands on his hips, his dark eyes hard. Bryce turned to Jamie when he neared. “Too slow,” he said.

“What do you mean, too slow?” Jamie said, still breathing heavily. “That was probably our best run this year.”

“Sill not good enough.” Bryce walked toward the locker room without looking at Jamie.

“Are you crazy? That was a good time, even for a college workout.” Jamie wiped sweat from his face. “Besides, it’s not like we’re shootin’ for scholarships or anything.”

Bryce continued to walk, wordlessly.

“Bryce?”

Bryce stopped and turned to face Jamie. “I am.”

“I am what?”

“Shooting for a scholarship.”

“Why?”

Bryce shrugged and opened the door to the locker room, stepped in, and closed it behind him.

Jamie stared at the door, mouth open. What was that all about?

* * *

Fred glanced at the clock high on the wall of Angela’s Dance Studio, Room B, where she taught a beginner’s tap dance class — all five-year-olds, six girls in black leotards and one reluctant boy in short pants. The large mirror on one wall seemed to multiply their numbers, doubles in the glass mimicking their every move. A long ballet bar stretched across the opposite wall, and the floor was a tough wood laminate that gave their taps a satisfying crack when they struck it. A wheeled plastic cart stood in one corner with a boom box on top.

Fred turned off the music and clapped her hands. “It’s six o’clock, kids, time to go.” All of the children stopped and clapped for her, a tradition at Angela’s, then ran to get their bags against the wall near the door. “Good class, everybody. I’ll see you Saturday. Hurry now. Your moms are waiting.”

She was swarmed at the knees by girls offering goodbye hugs. “Oh, thank you!” Fred said. “Bye now.” The lone boy waited until the girls were through before offering his farewell. He stood sheepishly next to Fred, one thumbnail between his teeth, before throwing his little arms around her and saying, “Bye, Miss Callahan.” He looked up at her and grinned, arms still around her knees. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mathew.” He’s so cute. She patted his dark, curly-haired head and he ran to the open door, where his mother stood, waiting patiently. “Thanks, Fred,” his mother said. “See you Saturday.”

Fred waved goodbye and watched the door close behind them. Then she pulled the CD from the boom box and put in one of her own. Now I need to work on my routine. I want to be good for the talent search show. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, then she pressed the play button and began moving.

She’d begun her dancing career in that very same room, years and years ago. How old was I? She tried to remember. Six? Seven? She whirled and tapped across the floor. How many classes has it been since? Over a thousand, she realized. Wow. She tried a multiple turn move that took her from wall to wall. It doesn’t seem like that many.

She danced — shuffle toe toe step heel flat, shuffle toe toe step heel flat. She streamlined the moves — shuffle toe toe step, shuffle toe toe step, side to side, increasing the speed, watching her reflection in the mirror until her feet seemed to blur and the clack of her shoes became the rapid rattle of hail on a tin roof.

I think this routine will do it, she thought as she danced. Fred — and Rollie and Jamie, too — had an advantage other contestants didn’t: All the experience from the shows that Jamie’s grandmother had arranged for them, shows at hospitals, Elks Clubs, retirement homes, and many other places. She hardly ever got nervous in front of an audience anymore.

But I’m not gonna get cocky. I‘m gonna work hard. Jamie might not want to win, but I do. And if I don’t win, Rollie will. We’ll show ’em what the Crew can do.

* * *

Carl sat at the kitchen table, trying to read the paper while Rachel made dinner, but he was having trouble focusing. He kept stealing glances at Jamie and Fred, sitting on the couch, playing some kind of game. Jamie was making colorful magic glowing balls float through the air as if he were juggling them. Fred seemed to be trying to pick a certain one by touching it before it disappeared. The rules were unclear from where Carl sat, but the kids were laughing and having a good time.

He’s so amazing, Carl thought as he watched Jamie gesture theatrically and produce a string of bright blue balls, little azure suns, while every third one would be yellow, which seemed to be the one Fred was supposed to touch, though Jamie was obviously trying to trick her some of the time. He can do the most fantastic things. Jamie laughed as he changed a yellow ball into a red one before Fred could get to it.

He can fly, travel to distant worlds in an instant, talk to animals, and blast mountains to rubble, among other things. A disturbing thought occurred to him. He’s the most powerful person on the planet. Then Fred, apparently fed up with Jamie’s tricks, reached down and pinched him hard on his bottom. Carl could read Jamie’s lips from across the room...Ow!

Well, maybe the second-most powerful.

Chapter 7

Rita sat at the bar with Cassandra at The Rusty Screw. The familiar bar top that she rested one elbow on was old and worn, carved with the initials from past patrons — B.D. had a phone number below it — and it smelled vaguely of rancid beer from too many past spills. A haze of smoke blanketed the air, making the pool players in the adjoining room appear fuzzy and grayish.

The stool she sat on was covered in ancient brown vinyl, with a split on top where the stuffing tried to escape and the foot rest squeaked from a loose screw. Neon signs on the walls spelling out various beer brands supplied the only illumination, aside from the occasional cigarette lighter, and the pale wooden floor was in dire need of a refinishing that it would never get.

Rita and Cassandra watched a couple on the far side of the room by the dart boards. Cassandra snapped her gum and said, “Did you tell Beau not to wear the amulet ’till he got close to Bernadette? Don’t want some stray floozy throwin’ herself at him.”

“Yeah, he knows,” Rita said, stubbing out her cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on the bar. “I told him what to do.”

“Do you think it’s working?”

Rita pulled out a fresh cigarette from a pack in her purse. “Bernadette should be rubbin’ all over him by now.” She accepted a light from the bartender, sucking in her cheeks as she inhaled, the end of the cigarette flaring red, then she turned back to Cassandra.

“It’s kinda workin’.” Rita shook her head slightly. “Not our best charm, that’s for sure. I’m not sure that one hair he gave us was really Bernadette’s.”

Cassandra took another drag from her cigarette, turning her head away as she blew the smoke out of one side of her mouth. “I hope it works. They would make a cute couple, don’t you think? I like their way their names sound together: Beau and Bernadette.” Her laugh was short, practically a grunt. “Bernadette and Beau. They might’ve ended up as an item even without our help.”

“Yeah, well don’t spread that around." She tapped her ashes into the ashtray. “Bad for business.”

Cassandra unfolded her long legs and stood, adjusting her black leather miniskirt as she said, “Keep an eye on my purse while I go to the little girls’ room.” She walked away toward the restroom with her cigarette dangling from one hand, knocking against a few barstools as she went. Rita watched her go for a moment before turning her attention back to the couple.

Come on, Bernadette, she thought. At least squeeze his thigh or something. The skinny dark-haired woman in jeans and a halter top kept brushing up against Beau in between rounds of darts, but nothing more amorous than that. She’s warming up to him. Maybe he’ll be happy with that. She sighed deeply. As long as he thinks the amulet is doing its job. She squeezed her lips together. If Isabelle had been with us when we made it, I wouldn’t have to worry.

She tapped a red-painted fingernail against the bar in time to the music and a couple started dancing by the jukebox against the wall. Wouldn’t mind dancing right now. She surveyed the room to see if any of her regular dance partners were there.

“So what do you think?” She heard from behind her. She turned to see Alphonse, the short, stout bartender, grinning, his gold tooth glinting in the neon light, pointing to his chest. He wore a white T-shirt with a picture of a large rust-colored screw in the center, and over it in large letters it said Screw U. Underneath in smaller print it said The Rusty Screw, Thibodaux, Louisiana.

“What do I think about the shirt?” Rita asked.

“Just got ’em in,” Alphonse said, still grinning. “Wanna but one? Only ten bucks.”

“Al, you know white’s not my color. Got any in black? Or maybe red?”

Alphonse frowned. “We’d have to pay an extra charge for the printing ’cause the ink would have to be white.”

“Print some black ones, they’ll sell.” She waved one hand at the room behind her. “Look around. Half the people in here are wearing black.”

Alphonse scanned the room. “Yeah, probably shoulda’ done black in the first place.”

“Tell you what: I’ll buy one of the white ones if you’ll help me sell some of my DUI powder tonight. I brought ten packets.”

“Deal.” He pointed a thumb toward the end of the bar. “Derek’s probably gonna need some. He’s getting pretty wasted, and he’s already got a DUI charge on his record.”

“And Deputy Fife might be lurking under the overpass again.”

“Rita, you know John Paul hates it when you call him that.” Alphonse set a mug under a beer tap and pulled the handle down; a golden brown liquid poured into the glass.

“John Paul is such a deputy do-right. He cramps my style.”

Alphonse nodded toward the restrooms as he poured. “Here comes your partner in crime.”

Rita turned to see Cassandra coming toward her, bumping against barstools again as she walked, a cigarette carelessly waving in one hand.

Cassandra plopped on her bar stool and said, “There was a line in the ladies’ room. I think Zoe was doing something naughty in there and holding up the show.” She chortled and took a drag from her cigarette.

A brown-haired woman approached them from the direction of the restrooms. She was shorter than Cassandra, but still tall for a woman, and broad in the hips.

“Looks like Geraldine’s comin’ this way,” Rita said. When the woman reached them, Rita said, “Hey, Sugar. Did that potion we made work for you?”

Geraldine gave a little shrug. “Worked okay.” She put her hand on Cassandra’s shoulder and leaned closer. “Cass, I couldn’t help noticing when you came out of the bathroom....” Her voice got lower. “You got a big spider vein on your left leg, right behind the knee. You probably can’t see it, so I thought you might want to know.”

“No!” Cassandra leaned down and tried to look at the back side of her leg. “Rita, is that true?”

“Haven’t looked lately. Stand up and let’s see.” Cassandra stood and turned. “Yep.” Rita reached over and touched the spot with one finger. “Right there.” Cassandra sat quickly and scowled.

“Sorry to be the one to tell, you Cass,” Geraldine said. She patted Cassandra’s shoulder. “I gotta run, girls.” She walked off.

Cassandra looked at Rita with her mouth partly open, eyes narrowed.

“Sorry, Cass. Guess you’re getting old.”

“I’m only forty-three.”

“You’re forty-nine.”

“Well, you should talk.” She pointed at Rita’s red hair. “Your gray roots are showin’ big time.”

“You lie!” Rita’s hand involuntarily shot to her scalp. “I just dyed it last week.”

Cassandra shook her head grimly.

“How come I didn’t notice?”

Cassandra picked up her cigarette from the ashtray on the bar and took a drag. “Because we still haven’t replaced that burnt-out light bulb in our bathroom. Can’t see squat in there with only one light.”

Rita ground her teeth for a moment before saying, “We need to stop on the way home and get a new light bulb.”

“Rita.” Cassandra jabbed one finger at her. “We need to get a new witch, and soon.”

“I’ll get started on it this week.”

* * *

Jamie stood next to his car in the morning sunlight, watching Fred cross the street toward him, their gazes locked as she neared. There was no other movement in the known world except for her. No cars drove by. No birds flew. No leaves swayed in the breeze. There was only Fred, coming closer with each graceful step.

I love the way she walks, he thought. When she reached him, she gave him a quick kiss and looked at him with a whimsical smile. Then she brushed one hand through his curly blond hair and said, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, and they continued to look into each other’s eyes. “You know what that reminds me of? That time I had mono. Remember? I was lying on the couch with my head in your lap?”

“Of course I remember,” she said.

“I was having terrible dreams and I woke up and you were there, rubbing my head and smiling at me. Then you said ‘Hey’, just like that.”

“And you said ‘Hey’ back.”

“And then I fell asleep again, but I stopped having bad dreams.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

“You’d better not. I know I —”

“Hey, Lovebirds.” They both turned to see Rollie jogging up the driveway with his bulky backpack hanging from one hand. “Let’s hit the road, or we’re gonna be late.”

Fred patted Jamie’s face and they got in the car.

Rollie clicked his seat belt and said, “You guys gonna be ready for the show comin’ up?”

Jamie shrugged and put the car in reverse. “I’m just doing my same old stuff. Nothing special.”

“I’ve been working on a new routine.” Fred pulled the visor down and checked her makeup in the mirror. “I’ve been practicing at the dance studio.”

“Jamie, why are you even bothering to go if you’re not trying to win,” Rollie said.

“I think it’ll be kinda fun...bigger stage, lights and all. And I want to support you guys. It takes all three of us to make the Crew.”

“We can’t be beat,” Rollie said. “Everybody smell our feet.”

Fred lifted one foot, wearing an open-toed ankle strap sandal, and set it on the dashboard. “I don’t think you want to smell my feet. I just painted my toenails.”

* * *

I must be dreaming, Jamie realized. He was lying on the couch, head in Fred’s lap, like when he had mono, only he felt fine. He and Fred were talking about love.

“Fred, how much do you love me?”

She stroked his head. “Let’s see...if I told you every day, it would take me from now until one day after the end of time to finish telling you all the ways that I love you.” She ran one finger under his lip. “How about you?”

“Well....” He scrunched his mouth in thought. “If I tried to put all of my love for you in my heart at once, it would burst. There’s just too much.”

“Good answer.” She patted his head. “No go back and have the best dreams ever.”

“I already am having the best dream ever.”

* * *

The next morning, Jamie walked out of his front door right as Fred arrived, setting her book bag on top of the Buick. “I dreamed about you last night,” she said.

“Huh,” Jamie said. “I dreamed about you, too. It was nice. We were on the couch like when I had mono.”

Fred wrinkled her brow as she put her arms around his waist. “That’s funny. That was my dream, too.”

“I guess we were both thinking about it when we went to bed, after we talked about it yesterday.”

“We should do that more often.” She smiled impishly.

Jamie looked across the street. “Here comes Rollie. We need to get going.”

* * *

Fred was walking down the hall when Melanie caught up with her near the front of the school.

She matched Fred’s stride and said, “Mind if I walk with you?”

“No, ’course not.” Fred had decided that Melanie wasn’t so bad after all. “How’s Michael?”

“Good.” Melanie smiled. “We’re having our two-year anniversary next week.”

“Congratulations. That’s amazing.” They passed the cafeteria and walked on; throngs of kids streamed by, some in groups, some alone.

“I know you and Jamie have been together for only a month or so, but it doesn’t seem like it. Seems like you’ve always been a couple.”

“We’ve been friends since kindergarten, and we met before we were born.” Melanie gave her a puzzled look and Fred continued. “Our Moms met at Lamaze class, and they said we were both kicking like crazy, so they touched bellies. We’ve been —”

“Yo’, ladies,” came a voice from behind them.

Melanie glanced over her shoulder and turned back with a scowl.

“Who’s that?” Fred asked.

“Logan Perkins,” she said in a low voice. “He just moved here from Florida, and he thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

A tall boy caught up with them, walking beside Melanie. He had a cocky smile and spiked hair with frosted tips. “I’m new here and thought I should introduce myself,” he said. “I’m Logan.” He held out his hand but neither girl took it.

“That’s nice,” Melanie said without looking at him.

“And you are?”

“Busy.” They continued to walk and Fred had to suppress a smile.

“Somebody told me your name,” he said. “It’s Michelle or something.”

“It’s Melanie.”

“Oh, well, hey Melanie. Nice to meet you.” He walked faster to try to get in front of them, but Fred and Melanie picked up their pace. “Tell me, Melanie, do you have a boyfriend.”

Without turning her head, Melanie said tersely, “Yes, his name is Michael, and he’s on the football team.”

He laughed. “I don’t know if I’d admit that, if I were you. They’re not a very good team.” When she didn’t respond he said, “Well, how ’bout you, Red? What’s your name?”

Melanie turned on him and stopped him dead in his tracks with a vicious poke of her finger in his chest. “Her name is Fred, and she’s Jamie Sikes’s girlfriend! Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re trying to get to class.”

She turned away, and she and Fred walked on, leaving Logan standing in the hall, looking dumbfounded. Melanie glanced at Fred and winked. Fred put her hand over her mouth and laughed.

* * *

That night, Jamie dreamed he was lying on the couch with Fred again. I like this dream, he thought. It’s so real. I can smell Fred. She always smells nice.

She was describing what had happened in the hall with Melanie and Logan that morning. He laughed as he pictured Melanie attacking the boy with her finger and setting him straight.

“I’ve decided I like her,” Fred said. “She’s actually a nice person.”

“She hasn’t tried to kiss me lately,” Jamie said.

“She won’t do that again. She’s too nice. I think we’re going to be friends.”

“That’s good.” He reached up and caught his fingers in her red curls, smiling as he did. “You can’t have too many friends.”

“No.” She stroked his head. “And you and I have a lot of friends, Jamie. Try to remember that.”

* * *

When Jamie met Fred at his car the next morning, they both tried to talk at the same time. Jamie gestured and said, “You first.”

“I dreamed we were on the couch again.”

“Me too! Were we talking about Melanie and some jerky guy named Logan.”

“Yes!” She clapped her hands. “Isn’t that amazing?”

“What’s amazing?” Rollie asked as he walked up, backpack slung over his shoulder.

Jamie opened the driver’s door. “We’ve been having the same dream.”

Rollie slid into the back seat. “Sounds spooky,” he said without a trace of surprise in his voice.

“It’s great,” Fred said as she sat in the passenger seat and closed the door. “I remember thinking about Jamie in my dream, and the next thing I know, we’re on his family room couch, talking.”

“And Melanie poked that guy in the chest, right?” Jamie said as he started the car.

“Yes. How did you do that, Jamie?”

“Do what?”

“Make that dream and have both of us in it?”

Jamie shook his head and backed the car out of the driveway. “I didn’t do it. I definitely don’t have that power. That’s not something a sorcerer could do.”

“Then somebody else must’ve sent it to us somehow.”

“No. It had to be one of us, and it wasn’t me.” He winked at her. “So it had to be you.” He grinned and shifted the car into drive. “Maybe you really are the Dream Fairy.”

“Wait a minute!” Rollie said. “Are you saying Fred’s got some magic, too?”

Jamie shrugged. “Maybe some has rubbed off from me, or she picked some up from being in my backyard so much.”

Rollie frowned. “Well I’d better not have any. My dad wouldn’t like that.”

“Maybe you do and you don’t know it.”

“This is dumb,” Fred said. “I don’t have any magic power.”

Jamie steered the car around the first corner. “You might.”

“Hey, Fred,” Rollie said. “That means you’re a witch!”

Fred scowled. “I’m not a witch.”

“Technically, you are, if you really do have some power,” Jamie said.

Rollie grinned. “That means you’re not the Red Queen like we thought. You’re the Red Witch!”

Chapter 8

Rita was sitting at the bar with Cassandra when her bleached blonde friend poked her thigh. “Look what the cat just dragged in.”

Rita turned to look at the front door, where she saw a medium-built serious-faced man in a dark blue police uniform, standing with his hands on his hips, surveying the room. He walked toward them and Rita whispered to Cassandra, “You don’t have anything illegal on you, do you?”

Cassandra shook her head as they watched the officer approach. He nodded to them when he reached the bar and Rita said, “Well, if it isn’t Deputy Fife himself. What brings you out here tonight? Lookin’ for some bad guys? Some wicked jaywalker, maybe?”

The uniformed man frowned. “It’s Sergeant Lambeau, ladies.” He held his hand up for the bartender.

Alphonse came over and said, “Hey, John Paul. What’s up?”

“Have you seen Ramon in here tonight?”

Alphonse shook his head. “Why.”

“He missed his court date today.”

“What’d he do?” Cassandra snickered. “Forget to pay his parking ticket?”

John Paul’s jaw muscles twitched and he said, “You know I’m not at liberty to discuss that.”

“At liberty!” Cassandra snorted. “Tell you what: why don’t you and I go out to your cruiser and have a little liberty in the back seat?”

Rita shook her head. “Watch it, Cass. He might try to charge you with prostitution again.”

“He can’t. I’m giving it away.” She slapped Rita on the shoulder and guffawed.

John Paul’s eyes were narrow. “That’s very amusing.” He looked at Alphonse. “If you see Ramon, tell him I’m looking for him.” John Paul turned on his heel without another word.

“My, how rude,” Cassandra said in a haughty, fake British accent. “He didn’t offer a proper goodbye.”

“Yes, Dahling,” Rita said in the same bad accent. “He should’ve at least kissed our hands and bowed.

“Or kissed something else,” Cassandra said, and they both howled.

* * *

Fred lay in bed, tossing and turning. I’m not a witch. I’m not. Witches are hags with bad teeth and big noses and...something.

But what if Jamie’s right? Do I really have some magic power? All day she’d tried little things, like moving her pencil with only her willpower or reading her teacher’s mind, but nothing had worked. But I definitely talked to Jamie in a dream. That feeling had been wonderful. I wonder if I can do it again tonight. We could have a special thing, like nobody else has ever had. She sighed and tried to imagine it, then she fluffed her pillow and rolled over.

But first I have to go to sleep!

* * *

Fred’s brain was humming from lack of sleep the next morning when she met Jamie at his car. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper and her head throbbed at her temples.

“You don’t look so good,” he said.

“Thanks a lot,” she huffed. “You’re not supposed to notice.” She opened the car door and dropped her purse on the seat, but didn’t get in. “I had trouble sleeping ’cause I kept trying to send my thoughts to you all night. Did you notice anything?”

“Not a thing.”

She made a smug face. “Maybe I’m not a witch after all.”

“Maybe not.”

“But right now I feel like one. A mean one.”

* * *

Fred and Melanie walked past the tenth grade lockers and a familiar voice called out, “Yo’, ladies! Wait up.”

“Not him again,” Melanie muttered.

Logan caught up with them and walked beside Fred, who barely glanced at him before turning her eyes straight ahead.

“How you ladies doing?” He got no answer. Fred and Melanie walked faster.

“I’m trying to talk to you.” He grabbed Fred’s arm but she jerked it free. “Don’t do that,” she said in a level voice, eyes hard. She started walking away, but he grabbed her arm again.

Fred stopped and turned, then stepped into him and drove her knee into his groin. He dropped to the hall floor like he’d been shot, holding his crotch with both hands, face turning deep red. Fred leaned over him and pointed one finger. “You’d better hold ’em, ’cause if you ever touch me again, I’ll kick ’em all the way up to your throat.”

Then she turned and strode away; Melanie walked with her, wide eyed. “Wow,” Melanie said. “That was awesome!”

“Sorry about that,” Fred said without looking at her. “I lost control. I just don’t feel like being messed with today.”

“No, that was perfect. I don’t think we have to worry about him bothering us anymore. I couldn’t have done that.”

“Yeah, well just so you know, my nickname used to be Fred the Firecracker.”

“I can see why.”

Fred scowled. “And to make matters worse, I have to ride the bus home today.”

“How do you usually get home?”

“I get a ride with Donna Fitzpatrick, but she’s got a doctor’s appointment, and Jamie has cross country practice.”

“I can give you a ride. I don’t have cheerleading practice today.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no trouble. As long as you don’t mind being seen in my old clunker of a car.”

Red fingered her chin for a moment while she regarded her new friend. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

* * *

“That’s Jamie’s house.” Fred pointed to her right as Melanie drove down the road. “Rollie’s is right across the street. Mine is two houses down from his.” She pointed to her left. “The orange brick one with the white trim.”

Melanie pulled her old car into Fred’s driveway and stopped. “I can see why you guys are such good friends. How long have you lived here?”

“I moved here when I was five. Rollie moved here when he was four, but Jamie’s been here since he was born. Rollie and Jamie were already best friends when I showed up.”

“Do you remember the first time you met Jamie?”

“Uh huh. I tried to kick him.”

Melanie laughed. “You don’t still do that, I hope.”

“No, but I give him a pinch every now and then to keep him in line.”

Melanie looked at her and shook her head. “You are the funniest person.” She put her hand on the gear shift. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wanna go inside for a minute and get something to drink?”

Melanie seemed to ponder it for a second, then shrugged. “Why not?” She switched the car off, and she and Fred got out and walked up the steps.

Fred unlocked the door and opened it. “You want a soda or tea or something?” They walked into the living room.

“Whatever you’re having.”

Melanie sat on the sofa while Fred went into the kitchen. Melanie said, “Do you have any brothers and sisters?”

“No, just me.” She grabbed two soda cans from the refrigerator and went back into the living room. “How about you?”

“I have an older brother in college. He’s out in California so we don’t see him much.” Fred handed her a soda and Melanie said, “I like your house. What does your room look like?”

“Girlie.” She laughed. “That’s how Jamie describes it.”

“He’s been in your room?”

“Not since we were younger. My dad would have a fit if Jamie went in there now.” Fred stood. “Come on up and I’ll show you.”

Melanie followed Fred, and as they walked up the stairs Fred said, “My dad has gotten super-duper over-protective since Jamie and I started dating, but when we were little, we spent tons of time together. I practically grew up at Jamie’s house.” She put her hand on the door knob to her bedroom. “I even spent the night over there once.”

Melanie arched her eyebrows. “Really?”

Fred pushed open her door. “We camped out in Jamie’s clubhouse while his dad slept in the bottom part. Jamie has a really cool clubhouse and backyard. You should see it sometime. I spent an awful lot of time there.” She paused for a moment and thought, and that may be why I’m a witch now, if I really am one. That’s where the old wizard died.

“It’s funny,” Fred said, “but my two best friends have always been boys — Jamie and Rollie.”

“Those are two good friends to have.” Melanie surveyed Fred’s room, a shrine to all things Fred. The colors were red, pink, and white. A couple of posters of women tap dancers were on the wall and there were little figurines scattered among the books on the shelves. One beside the bed caught Melanie’s eye. “That’s pretty.”

Fred picked up the small glass sculpture and showed it to Melanie. “Jamie gave me this a few years ago. We call it the Dream Fairy. I kiss it every night before I go to sleep.”

“I bet you’re sending him kisses.”

“I am! Good guess.” Now I send him dreams. Strange.

“I love this.” Melanie put her hand on one of the posts of the canopy bed. Stuffed animals were neatly arranged on the red satin comforter and the white bed skirt was trimmed with lace to match the canopy. She looked around the room and her gaze settled on Fred’s dresser. She walked to it and leaned closer to inspect some photos tucked into the mirror frame. “Is this you?”

Fred joined her and said, “That’s me, Jamie, and Rollie when we were about ten or so. It was after one of our shows.”

“You tap dance, right?”

“Yeah. You can see Rollie’s ventriloquist’s dummy — he calls it Rufus — and Jamie’s got his magic wand in hand.”

Melanie looked closely. “Y’all look so cute. I’ve never seen one of your shows before. Do you have any coming up?”

“The Talent Search is next Saturday, but it’s in Asheville.”

“I’ll come.” Melanie nodded emphatically. “I’ll make Michael drive so I don’t have to take my clunker.”

Fred regarded Melanie’s earnest face. She really is a nice person. Wish I’d figured that out sooner. “Hey, um, you’re taking Latin 2 this semester, aren’t you? Do you want to study together for the test?”

“The one on Monday? Sure. When?”

“Why don’t you come over late Sunday afternoon and we can study for a while and you can stay for dinner.”

“You sure that’ll be okay with your mom?”

“No problem.”

* * *

“Fred, are you kidding?” Lisa said, eyebrows lowered in a look of total disbelief. “Melanie? The Melanie? Melanie who kissed Jamie? Your mortal enemy Melanie?”

“She’s not that bad, Mom. In fact, she’s kinda nice, and she’s really smart, so she’ll be a big help as a study partner. Is it okay if she stays for dinner?”

“Of course, but it seems so strange. Just over a month ago you were ready to strangle her.”

“Yeah, well I got over it.”

“I never knew you to be so forgiving.”

“I’m maturing Mom. Get used to it.”

* * *

The road workout that day was the hardest Jamie had ever attempted, and when they finished, he felt like he’d been drained completely dry, a washcloth that someone had twisted and squeezed until every last drop had fallen into the sink. It seemed to take a toll on Bryce, too, because he was limping on the way to the locker room.

“You okay?” Jamie asked as he trudged beside him.

Bryce grimaced with every other step. “Yeah, just a little case of the shin splints, that’s all. Probably time to buy some new running shoes.”

* * *

Jamie heard Fred’s voice in his head. “Jamie, are you asleep?”

“Huh?” I must be, he realized. “I think so. How are you talking to me? We’re not on the couch.” A moment later, he found himself lying on his back with his head in Fred’s lap, only they were in a meadow somewhere. The sunlight was warm and soft. Flowers and tall grasses swayed in the gentle breeze and a butterfly fluttered nearby.

“How’s that?” Fred said.

“How did you do that?”

“I don’t know. I just thought about it and...I’m not sure.” She giggled. “It’s wonderful, though, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He watched the butterfly light on his knee, folding and unfolding its wings as if it were waving a silent hello. “How did you send your thoughts to me?”

“I don’t know. I remember going to sleep thinking about how I hardly got to see you at all today, so I guess my subconscious somehow reached out to you.” She laughed and put her hand to her face. “Now I’m starting to sound like you.”

“Fred, I think you definitely have power. You really are the Dream Fairy.” His smile was whimsical. “Isn’t that funny?”

She frowned. “Not if that means I really am a witch.”

“Fred, it’s not that bad. There were lots of witches where Eddan came from, and they weren’t like the witches in the movies. They were normal-looking women who just happened to have power.”

“When I think of a witch, I think of and old hunch-backed crone with bad teeth and a big warty nose.”

“I don’t think there are any like that.” He reached up and stroked her cheek. “But they might as well be, compared to you. You’re the most beautiful witch ever.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Fred’s lower lip was out. “I don’t want to be a witch.”

“Do you want to keep talking to me in our dreams?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then be happy. It’s fitting, anyway. I’m a wizard, and you’re a witch. We were made to be together.”

At that Fred’s face brightened, and she bent to give him a kiss.

Chapter 9

Jamie watched another East Henderson High School runner pass on his right, and he stole a glance at Bryce, running on his left, his face tight with pain.

“Go on!” Bryce waved one hand. “Don’t hang back with me.”

“Still got time,” Jamie said between breaths. They ran on a trail through a small wooded area north of their rival’s school. The ground was soft and muddy in places from an overnight shower.

“We need the points. Go on!”

Jamie took one more look at his limping friend and reluctantly abandoned him, surging forward with a burst of speed. The lead runner’s too far ahead, he thought as he passed the closest boy. Maybe I can get second place.

The course shifted to a street on a subdivision, and Jamie gained ground quickly, being a much stronger runner on asphalt. He rounded the curve and passed another boy. The lead runner, from East Henderson, was in sight, but he was already turning onto the football practice field where the race’s finish line was set up. Jamie pumped as hard as he could, but the other boy crossed the flags before Jamie could close the gap.

Jamie crossed the line and checked his watch. Unh. Not good. He glanced at his coach, standing nearby, whose expression said the same. He’s mad. Jamie walked around with his hands on top of his head, gasping as he watched Bryce struggle across the field to the finish, too far back to score any points. Bryce crossed the line and immediately looked at Jamie, shaking his head with disgust. He slowed to a walk, limping, his eyes and mouth pinched.

“So much for finishing first and second every meet,” Bryce said, grunting as he walked with Jamie. “Sorry.”

“It’s not that big a deal, Bryce.”

“It is to me.”

By this time, they had walked out near the middle of the field, past the edge of the throng. Jamie shook his head. “But why? You said you were shooting for a scholarship...but what for? Your dad makes plenty of money, doesn’t he?”

Bryce looked at Jamie and worked his jaw for a moment before answering. “That’s just it. I’m tired of people thinking that. We’re not rich, by any stretch of the imagination, but we do okay. We have a nice house and stuff.” He ran one hand through his dark, sweaty hair. “But I want to do it on my own. I don’t want to ride on my dad’s coattails for the rest of my life. My sister’s doing that, and I don’t want to end up like her. She’s still in school, but she’s changed her major like, four times already. She’s just having a good time, spending Dad’s money and going to parties. She’s got a nice car and an apartment, but....” He shrugged. “No direction.”

“Is that why you don’t like being called Richie Rich?”

He nodded. “I’m tired of people looking at me like I’m a spoiled little rich kid.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, that’s ’cause you know me.” Bryce took another couple of steps, but the limp seemed worse. “I even got a part-time job now. I’m working at a gift shop down town.”

“Which one?”

“Unh unh. If I tell you, you’ll come in and try to embarrass me.”

“Probably.” Jamie grinned. “But that’s cool. When do you work?”

“Saturday and Sunday afternoons. It fits in with my schedule and gives me enough for spending and gas money. Don’t have to get it from my dad now.”

“So you want a cross country scholarship? Your times are pretty good. You can probably get one.”

“I’ve already had a couple of coaches call me, but they’re from division two schools. I’m holding out for a division one offer.” He took a few steps, grimacing as he walked. “But first I gotta get over these shin splints.”

“Lemme have a look. I did some checking on the Internet, so I know a little about ’em now.” Jamie knelt beside Bryce and looked around to see if anyone was watching. “Hope nobody thinks this is gay or anything.”

“At this point, I don’t care.”

Jamie touched Bryce’s left shin. “Is this the spot?”

“Yeah. Right there.”

Jamie sent his magical mind inside Bryce’s leg, where the tendon joins the bone. This isn’t all that inflamed. He touched the other leg. “This one’s okay?”

Bryce nodded, and Jamie looked inside. This one looks normal, too. He reached back to the injured leg and looked deeper. There’s something wrong with the bone. I think he has a stress fracture. Coach warned us about those.

Jamie stood. “Uh, I’ve got this special cream at home that my Gramma gave me.” That’s a lie, but it’s all I can think of. “I used it this summer when my shins started hurting, and it took care of the pain.” Jamie snapped his fingers. “Just like that. Two days later, I was running again. You should stop by my house when I get off work and let me treat your leg.”

“Why don’t you just let me borrow it?”

What am I gonna say? Because I need to do magic on you? “Because there’s a special way to put it on, that’s why. Gramma showed me how.”

Bryce looked dubious.

“Really,” Jamie said. “You want to get it fixed or not?”

“Yeah, of course. What time?”

“One thirty.” That’ll give me time to stop at the drug store on the way home from work and pick up some sports rub. He’ll never know the difference.

* * *

Fred closed the front door and dropped her bag of dance gear by the stairs. “Mom, I’m back. You can use the car now.”

“I’m in here, honey,” her mother called from the kitchen.

Fred walked in and found her at the table, drinking coffee and reading a cook book. She looked up at Fred. “How was your class?”

“Fine. My little dancers are shaping up.” Fred pulled a chair out from under the table and sat across from her mother. I still don’t know how to say this, but I feel like I need to. “Mom, I’ve got something important to tell you.” Her mother looked at her expectantly, and Fred took a deep breath, then the words tumbled out. “Jamie thinks I’m a witch.”

Her mother’s eyebrows dropped and she gave a little gasp. “No! Are you fighting?” She reached across the table and grabbed Fred’s hand. “You two seemed so happy last night.”

“Not that kind of witch. A witch witch.” Fred made a scary face and wiggled her fingers at her mother, who only blinked back her, an uncomprehending look in her eyes.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“For gosh sakes, Mom, yes! Jamie thinks I have some magical power. Not much, but some. I can talk to him in dreams.”

“You probably just think you can.” She nodded sagely.

“No, we can have a conversation in our sleep, and the next morning he can repeat it to me word for word, perfectly. He said he doesn’t have that power. Sorcerers can’t do it.” Fred leaned back in her chair and exhaled heavily. “It’s me. I’m doing it, not him.”

“So how does that make you a witch?”

“Jamie said that it shows that I have power, and if I had a spell book, I could perform the magic in it. He said that’s what witches do. Not Wiccan witches, but real witches, as he calls them.”

“Well, there aren’t too many of those kind of books lying around, are there?”

“He said there are plenty of them back on Eddan’s old world.”

“Well, fine. Those are out of your reach.”

“You don’t seem too concerned about this.”

“It’s just a matter of semantics, honey. I don’t think you’re a witch. Maybe a teeny tiny bit of magical power rubbed off from Jamie, but that’s all. Nothing to worry about. It’ll probably go away on its own.”

Fred scowled and muttered, “It’s all your fault.”

“Oh, because Rachel and I touched bellies when we were pregnant? I never would’ve done it if I’d known it would make you a witch.” She rolled her eyes.

“Mom, you’re being sarcastic! I’m upset, and you’re not being very helpful.”

“You mean, sympathetic.” She got up from her chair and stood next to Fred, stroking her hair as she spoke. “I don’t really believe it anyway. There’s probably another explanation.”

Fred pushed her mother’s hand away. “No, there’s not. Jamie’s sure of it.”

“Well...let’s just assume for a minute — and I’m not saying I believe it — let’s just assume that it’s true. A little tiny bit couldn’t be bad, right? Jamie’s been a sorcerer all his life, and he seems to have turned out okay. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve had a little magic in you all this time, too, and you’re fine...a little bossy sometimes, but you’re a good kid, Fred. Be happy.” She put her hand on Fred’s back. “You can visit with your sweetie day and night now. “Oh!” Her hand went to her face. “When you visit him in your dreams, you’re not doing anything...like, you know.... ”

Fred felt her face grow warm. “No, Mom. We mostly just hang out in a meadow or on his couch. Wherever I want to be. I make the setting, it seems.”

“A meadow? With flowers and everything?”

Fred nodded.

“That’s so romantic.” She sighed and patted Fred’s back. “But let’s not tell your father just yet. I don’t think it’s true, anyway.”

“It’s true. Believe it.”

“Still, let’s not tell him now. He’s having enough trouble dealing with you and Jamie being unchaperoned when you’re awake. I don’t know how he’ll handle it that you can see Jamie in your dreams.”

Fred turned and took her mother’s hand. “Mom...it is pretty cool, though. I can hardly explain it, it’s so amazing. I can think about Jamie while I’m sleeping and...there he is, in my arms.” She shook her head slowly, then frowned. “Just don’t call me a witch.”

* * *

Jamie slammed the front door and hurried down the hall to the family room, where he found his father in the recliner, reading the paper.

“Bryce called,” his father said without looking up. “He’s on his way.”

“Great, just great,” Jamie muttered as he set a bag on the coffee table. “I’m not ready.”

“Where have you been?”

“I had to stop at the drugstore on the way home from work and get some sports cream.”

“Why couldn’t Bryce buy it himself?”

Jamie pulled a tube and a small bottle of calcium tablets out of the bag. “The cream’s not doing anything. It’s just an excuse for me to put my hands on his leg long enough to do some magic on it.”

“I thought you said you weren’t a healer.”

“I’m not.” Jamie carried the empty bag into the kitchen and dropped it into the trash can. “But I’ve been researching his injury and I think I can fix it.” He opened a cabinet door and surveyed the contents. “But I need you to back me up on whatever I say, no matter how strange it sounds, okay?”

His father put down the paper. “Okay. What are you looking for?”

“A little jar to put this cream in so it won’t look store bought. I told him it’s Gramma’s home remedy.”

“Look under the sink.” His father turned his head. “I hear the doorbell.”

“Can you get it so I can finish getting ready?”

As his father walked to the door, Jamie found a small jar and squeezed most of the contents of the tube in it. He wrinkled his nose. P — U. This stuff stinks. He grabbed a hand towel from the rack near the sink and went into the family room to meet Bryce.

Jamie showed the jar to Bryce. “Got it.”

Bryce looked skeptical. “You sure this is gonna work?”

“Worked great on me when I used it this summer.”

Bryce gave a little nod. “So what do I do?”

“Roll up your pants leg and lie down on the couch.”

Bryce did as he was told and Jamie gave him the hand towel. Jamie said, “Now fold this and put it over your eyes.”

“What for?”

So you can’t tell that I’ve got my eyes closed and I’m working my magic on you. “So you’ll relax more. It helps.”

“I’m relaxed.”

Jamie’s father sat back down on the recliner and picked up the paper. “Do it his way or we’re gonna have to go get his Gramma to work on your leg, and she doesn’t put up with any nonsense.”

“Okay, I know about your Gramma.” Bryce lay back and folded the towel over his eyes. Jamie’s father gave Jamie a wink. Good one, Dad.

Jamie knelt beside Bryce, dipped his fingers in the jar and scooped out a dab of cream, then began working it into Bryce’s leg. “Uh,” Bryce grunted.

“It’ll hurt at first, but I guarantee you’ll be feeling better when you leave.”

“I’m good with that,” Bryce said from underneath the towel.

Jamie focused his mind inside Bryce’s leg. Got to repair the small blood vessels around the crack first. He willed them to quickly form new cells, making connections as they grew. Good. I gotta skip the in between steps and see if I can jump start the osteoblasts and get them to start mending the bone.

“It feels warm,” Bryce said. “That cream smells bad.”

“Small price to pay, I think.” Jamie focused on the osteoblasts and gave them a bump with his magic. Get going, you guys, he said to the cells. He worked for several more minutes before stopping. He said, “There. That ought to do for now. See how it feels.”

Bryce pulled the towel from his face and stood, a tentative smile forming as he put weight on the leg. “Yeah.” He walked a couple of steps. “That’s better. Thanks, man.”

“I’m not done. You need to come back later for another treatment, and probably a couple tomorrow. You might be good to go on Monday, as long as you don’t push it too hard, and you need to make sure you run in the grass.” Jamie handed him the bottle of calcium tablets. “Take a few of these now and some more later. They’re chewable.”

“What time should I come back? I gotta go to work now and I’ve got a date tonight.”

Jamie shrugged. “Stop by before you pick up Sally. Tomorrow you can come by after church and then right before dinner.”

“I can do that.” He took a few more experimental steps and smiled. “Yeah. Much better. You really are the Magic Man.”

If you only knew, Jamie thought.

Bryce pointed one finger at Jamie. “But don’t call me Richie Rich.”

When Bryce left, his father said, “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? Shouldn’t he go to the doctor?”

“I’m not sure, but if he went to the doctor, they’d diagnose the fracture, and Bryce’s cross country season would be over. Then he probably wouldn’t get a scholarship, and he’d be stuck depending on his father again. He really doesn’t want to do that.” Jamie blew out a big gust of air. “And I don’t think I made it any worse, at least. If it’s still bothering him after I’m done working on it, he can go to the doctor.”

“Well....” His father’s face grew thoughtful. “I hope it works. I like Bryce. He’s a good kid.”

“I like him too, Dad. He’s a good friend.”

* * *

Rita took a sip from her beer and leaned back in her barstool, watching Cassandra make her way through the crowded tables — a forest of tattoos, black shirts and blue jeans in mismatched wooden chairs. Her tall friend’s bleached blonde beehive nearly brushed the light fixture of a ceiling fan as she passed, and she bumped into more than one table. No one complained. They’re used to it, Rita thought.

“Did you sell any?” Rita asked as Cassandra dropped on the stool beside her.

Cassandra set five small brown envelopes on the bar. “I sold six. I’m saving one for me since I’m driving. I don’t want a DUI, either.”

“Deputy Fife’s probably on the lookout for our car since we razzed him last week.” Rita picked up the packets and dropped them in her purse. “At least we made enough to pay for our bar tab.”

Cassandra crossed her long legs and lit a cigarette. “Louis wants a special order.” She took a drag and blew a long stream of gray smoke. “Wants to know if we’ll make a poison for him.”

“Poison? What for?”

“His divorce is final, and his ex-wife got his motorcycle in the deal.”

“His Harley? Damn. I’d be pissed, too.” Rita shook her head. “You told him no, I hope.”

“Said I’d talk to you, first.”

“We ain’t making no —”

A noise from the pool room got their attention. Two men were throwing awkward punches and grappling, bouncing off of furniture and getting shouts of encouragement from the other pool players.

“All right, a fight!” Cassandra clapped her hands and grinned.

The men knocked a high top table over with a crash of shattering glass, and Alphonse said from behind the bar, “Rita, can you help me out here?” When Rita didn’t respond, he said, “I’ll comp your tab.”

Rita turned in her seat to face him. “Last night’s, too?”

“Yeah, sure, last night’s...just hurry, will ya’?”

Rita stood and walked across the bar toward the pool room, pulling a necklace from over her head as she went. It was slim silver chain attached to a pendant made of jade, carved in the shape of a sleeping baby. She began spinning the necklace as she neared the fighters, slowly at first, and the pendant began to glow, so that it made a blue–white incandescent circle before her.

She entered the pool room and spun the necklace faster. The fighters halted their clumsy assault as she neared them. She stopped a few feet away and said as she spun, “You’re tired. You need to rest.”

Both men looked at her and blinked stupidly, and one of them rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Then they both sat down hard in the nearest chairs, looking exhausted. Several bystanders groaned.

“Damn, Rita,” someone said from the other side of the room. “It was just getting good.”

“Sorry,” she said, slipping the chain back over her head. “Blame Alphonse.”

Rita returned to her seat, and Cassandra handed her a tall iced drink with a cherry and a lime slice on top.

Rita took the drink and sat down. “What’s this?”

“Long Island Iced Tea.” Cassandra put the straw to her bright red lips, delicately positioning it so that it wouldn’t mess up her lipstick, and took a sip. “I figured if Alphonse is gonna comp our tab, we might as well run it up some.” Cassandra surveyed the room and narrowed her eyes. “Do you want to go down to Pauley’s and see if we can sell something?”

“Nah. That place has gotten too rough for me. Those folks don’t even care if they get a DUI.”

“Maybe we could sell a love potion or two.”

Rita gave her a level look. “Well, maybe not,” Cassandra said, fingering her drink glass. “Let’s just stay here. Our home away from home.”

* * *

Rachel watched the two pig-tailed girls peddle their bikes down the sidewalk past Lisa’s house toward the setting sun. Each bike was a rolling testimonial to innocence, all sparkly purples and pinks, with colorful handlebar steamers flowing in the breeze and white baskets on the front. One girl had a tiny brown dog in her basket, its ears back and eyes wide, the tell-tale look of an unwilling passenger.

“Remember when it used to be so simple?” Lisa said when the girls were well past.

“For us or for our kids?” Rachel said.

“Both, I guess. Now everything is so strange.”

The two women were on Lisa’s front steps, enjoying the Hendersonville October weather. The air was as clear as the highest note an angel can sing, and the sky was the deepest blue that a Carolina autumn could offer.

Lisa set her coffee cup down and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “You know what’s missing from this scenario?”

“Adele,” Rachel said without hesitation. “Tell her to get her butt over here.” She watched Lisa send the test message.

Lisa set her phone down next to her cup and looked out over her lawn to Rachel’s house. “Whose car is that in your driveway? It’s nice.”

“Bryce’s. Jamie’s treating his leg again, trying to get him ready for cross country practice tomorrow.”

“Is he doing it with magic?”

“Mmm hmm.”

Lisa shook her head. “Strange, strange.”

“Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it.” Rachel took a sip of her coffee and said, “Is Fred still upset about her...power?”

“You mean, that’s she’s a witch? Oh yes.”

“You don’t seem to be bothered by it too much.”

“I am having a little trouble accepting it. But...all she can do is talk to Jamie in her dreams.” She gave a little nervous laugh. “At least she can’t fly or anything, right?” Lisa picked up her cup and fingered the handle. “I guess I’ll have to take my cues from you, Rachel. You’ve found out Jamie’s an incredibly powerful sorcerer, but you act the same. It’s like business as usual at the Sikes’s house. And I don’t really think of her as a witch. Only Jamie does.”

“I should be worried about Jamie, you know? He could destroy our house with a wave of his hand, but all I have to do is look at him and I see the same old klutzy, good-hearted, curly-haired boy. He’s still the same old Jamie. He surprises me sometimes when he plays with his magic around the house, levitating plates and stuff, but I had to put a stop to his flying indoors. He almost knocked me down the stairs the other day. I thought I was going to have a heart attack!” Rachel put her hand to her chest.

“At least Fred isn’t doing any of that.”

“Is she still practicing for the big show next weekend?”

“She goes to the dance studio every day. Adele told me Rollie’s been practicing, too. He records himself on video and watches it all the time.”

“Jamie’s not practicing at all...well, not for the show, anyway. Every time I ask him about it, he just shrugs and says he’s only doing the show for the fun of it. He wants Fred and Rollie to win and move on to the next round.”

“Must be nice having all that money from Eddan just drop into your lap like that.”

“Well, it is, but Carl and I were talking, and we think we have might have enough to help Fred and Rollie with their college.”

Lisa put her hand on Rachel’s arm. “That’s really generous of you, but I don’t know if Larry will go for that, and I know Garrett won’t. We may not —”

“Who’s that?” Rachel pointed.

They both turned to watch the old red car pull into Lisa’s driveway. The front bumper was dented and one door was painted white. Thin blue-gray smoke plumed from the rusted tail pipe. “Are you expecting company?” Rachel asked.

“A friend of Fred’s.”

A girl with long blonde hair stepped out and closed the car door, then walked up to the front steps, a couple of books under one arm. She greeted them and Lisa said, pointing with her thumb at the door behind her, “Fred’s in her room. Go on in. She’s expecting you.”

Rachel waited until the door closed behind Melanie before saying quietly, “Is that the Melanie? The one who kissed Jamie?”

Lisa nodded. “I told you things were getting strange around here. This is even stranger than the magic.”

“I thought Fred hated her guts.”

“She did, but they’re best buds now, for some reason. Last night I overheard Fred try to talk Jamie into double dating with Melanie and her boyfriend, but Jamie didn’t seem to be going for it.”

“I hope Fred didn’t pinch him again.”

“I didn’t hear him yell.” Lisa drained the last of her coffee and set the cup on the concrete stoop behind her. “Rachel, do you think there are any other wizards around like Jamie?”

“He doesn’t think so, at least here on Earth. He said he could feel it when they did magic.”

“Even if they’re all the way in China?”

“If they’re doing strong enough magic to worry about. That’s what he thinks, anyway.”

“How about witches? Do you think there are any of those around?”

“There are plenty of Wiccans, but he doesn’t think they have real power. He can’t tell, though. He said he can’t sense when a witch does magic.” She put her hand on Lisa’s shoulder. “I hope there aren’t any others around, for Fred’s sake.”

“One is enough.” Lisa laughed.

Rachel looked down the street and saw a woman with bangle earrings and chocolate-colored skin walking down Rollie’s front steps. “Here comes Adele. We’d better change the subject.”

Chapter 10

Jamie felt the sand beneath him first, then noticed Fred sitting next to him. I’m dreaming again, he realized. He looked down and saw that he was wearing a bathing suit. Fred wore one, too.

“Hey,” she said, giving him a slight smile.

“Hey yourself.” He smiled back. “This is a good one, Fred.” He turned and regarded the houses behind them. “This is Ponte Vedra Beach, isn’t it?”

Fred turned, too. “Must be. I have really good memories of this place. We had a lot of fun here. Do you remember?”

“If I said no, would you pinch me again?”

“Want me to, just so you can see how real it feels?”

“I got two bruises on my butt already. Why don’t you kiss me instead?”

Fred leaned close and kissed him softly; he felt her soft breath on his face before the warmth of her moist lips. It almost feels like the real thing. “You’re getting better at this, Fred.”

“Kissing?”

“No, you’ve always been good at that.” He gestured at their surroundings. “This is pretty real looking.” He looked at the sky and shook his head. “The light is diffused, like at the meadow. There’s no sun.”

“What?” Fred looked up. “You’re right. Where should it be?’

“We’re facing east.”

A glowing orb appeared in the sky in front of them.

Jamie squinted and shielded his face with his hand. “That’s good, Fred, but it’s in our eyes.”

She frowned. “Always the critic.”

Shadows suddenly stretched before them, and Jamie turned to see the sun at their backs. “Awesome. I’m impressed.”

“So is my magic up to your standards?”

“This is pretty cool, I must admit. Can you put us anywhere?”

The scene melted and morphed into darkness. They were sitting on grass that was wet with dew. Jamie looked around. “Now where are we?”

“My front yard.”

“I like the beach better.”

“This is where you first told me you loved me. Remember?”

He grinned innocently. “I did that here?”

Fred reached for him with her thumb and forefinger, but he scooted safely away. He laughed and said, “Of course I remember. I think about it every day.” He could tell from the look in her eyes that he’d said the right thing. “Now can we go back to the beach?” The scene changed again and they were on the sand. “Thanks. Now all we need is a breeze and the sound of seagulls.” He felt a gentle wind on his face and heard a distinctive squawking.

“Satisfied?” Fred said.

“It’s perfect.” He turned and looked behind him. “The house we stayed in is right over there. Do you think we could go in it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But I want to stay right here.” She hooked one arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Fred, do you ever feel tired in the morning after one of our encounters like this?”

“I usually feel great....happy. I’d still do this even if I did feel tired.” She lifted her head and looked at him. “Do you feel tired?”

“No. I feel wonderful. Have you tried talking to anybody else in a dream?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Just to see if you could.”

“Who would I talk to?”

“I dunno...your mom?”

She raised her head from his shoulder and gave him a hard look. “Is that a serious question?”

“Sorry. But you should try sometime, just to see.”

“No thanks. The only person I want to see in my dreams is right here.”

“Well, I still think you should. You need to know the limits of your power. Just in case.”

* * *

Jamie opened the front door and let Rollie in.

“This better be good, Dude,” Rollie said. “Got a bunch of homework to do and it’s almost dinner time.”

“It’s good, buddy,” Jamie said as he led him through the house to the family room. “Won’t take but five minutes.” He held the back door open and they stepped outside to his expansive yard.

“Why’re we comin’ out here?” Rollie asked as they walked down the wooden steps of the deck.

“It’ll work better out here. More room.”

Rollie scuffed his foot through a pile of fallen leaves. “Dude, you need to get out here and get these leaves up. Can’t you just poof ’em away?”

“My parents don’t want me doing chores with magic. They say it’s lazy, so I gotta use the leaf blower and the rake, same as you.”

“What’s the use of havin’ all that magic in you if you can’t do stuff like that?”

“Good question.”

“So where are we going?”

Jamie stopped in the middle of the yard. “This should be good. You stay there.” He walked another twenty steps toward the back. “Now turn around.”

Rollie spun in a complete circle and grinned. “Like that?”

“You know what I mean.”

Rollie turned and faced the house. Jamie put his arms out from his side, fingers splayed, and focused his will. Here goes. “Okay. You can turn around.”

Rollie did and said, “Whoa! Where’d you go?” Jamie lowered his hands and Rollie’s eyes grew wide. “Cool, Dude! A disappearing spell. Is that new?”

“It was one Eddan was working on. He never got it working right, but I did.”

“Is that spell hard to do?”

“It was at first. The interesting thing about it is I think Eddan got the idea for it after visiting Earth. And the memory popped in my head when I was watching a TV special on future tech. It was all about this —”

“There you go with the geeky stuff again.” Rollie shook his head.

“No, hear me out. The show was about a team of scientists trying to make a cloak of invisibility. A real one.”

“Like from the movies?”

“Yeah, only this one kinda works. When light hits this special fabric, the material funnels the light around to the other side, and it exits at the same angle that it came in...sort of. It’s not perfect.”

“What is?” Rollie smirked.

“Right. But Eddan knew about it somehow. I don’t know if he read about it in a book he got on this world or saw it on TV or —”

“He watched TV?”

“Sometimes. He was fascinated by it, since they didn’t have it back on his world. So anyway, Eddan figured out that he could make his shield do the same thing.” Jamie held out his hands and a yellow shimmer appeared before him for a moment. “He formed his shield into a cylinder and tried to get it to slide the light around the surface of it, like a skater on a curved pond of ice. The light comes in from the back, say, and slides around the shield, and exits the front. So if someone was in front of you, they’d see what was behind you, just as if you weren’t there.”

“Cool. Does the shield still work as a shield?”

“Yeah, but I can’t use my super-duper new and improved one, because I’ve got the plasma layer in it, and that scrambles the light, like this.” Jamie put his hands out and an orange shimmer appeared, then he changed it to bend the light around him before dropping it.

Rollie nodded. “It looks like a big distorted space where you are when you do that. Too obvious.”

“But a regular shield is better than no shield at all.”

“So you can be invisible and protected at the same time. Too cool.” Rollie gestured at the heaps of brown leaves that lay around them. “Now if you can just get your parents to let you use your magic on these, you’ll be in business.”

Jamie sighed. “I’d have better luck talking them into letting me shave my head and get a tattoo.”

* * *

Rita looked up from the cluttered table where she was standing as Cassandra entered the room, holding a sheet of paper in one hand.

“It’s hot in here.” Cassandra fanned herself with the paper and walked to the window air conditioner. “I’m gonna turn this on.”

“Don’t,” Rita said. “I’m getting ready to try this spell, and that’ll blow the powder around.” She had a mortar and pestle in her hands, and the wooden table was strewn with bits of dried leaves, books, and jars.

Cassandra flapped the paper at Rita. “Have you seen the bank statement? Not a pretty sight, Rita, not pretty at all.”

“We don’t keep all our money in there,” she said with only a glance up from her task.

“You’re not getting your boobs done anytime soon unless we have some serious dough stashed somewhere that we forgot about.”

Rita stopped grinding and pointed the pestle at Cassandra. “You got yours done. It’s my turn.”

“That was back when we had plenty of money. And I got mine done after you got the bags under your eyes done.”

“I did not have bags under my eyes; they were just puffy from —”

“Call it what you want.” Cassandra waved one dismissive hand. “You got your surgery, and I got mine, but we don’t have the money for any more of that right now.”

“We will if I can do this spell right and find us another witch.” She began grinding again, pushing the pestle hard into the mortar, turning the dried marigold flowers into powder. A white ceramic bowl was on the table next to her, other powders already filling the bottom.

“Is that what you did when you and Isabelle went looking for me?”

“This?” Rita held the mortar up. “I didn’t do it, Isabelle did, but I seem to remember her doing it this way. It’s been a long time, though.”

“What if the new witch isn’t so hot to join us like I was?”

“As I recall, you were happy dealing drugs with your loser boyfriend in Mobile. We had to do a little convincing to get you to come around.”

“I remember.” Cassandra plopped on the couch. “I was just a kid then. I thought I was in love.”

“Whatever happened to that guy?”

“He died, I heard. Overdosed.” Cassandra put her feet up on the coffee table. “I’d probably be dead, too, if you and Izzy hadn’t come and saved me.”

“Could be. I’m glad we did.” Rita gave her a quick smile and looked back at the spell book beside the mortar; unidentified dark flakes were scattered over its pages. She brushed them off with the back of her hand. “Who knows where I’d be if Isabelle hadn’t a’ found me?”

“Probably living in a trailer in New Orleans with nasty little rug rat grandkids running around.”

Rita gave her a hard look. “I’m not old enough to have grandkids.”

“Jackie’s same age as you, and she’s got three, and one of ’em is in high school.”

“She started young.”

Cassandra sighed. “Sure, Rita. Whatever you say.” She stood and walked to the other side of the table, across from Rita. “So how’s this work?”

“Once I get this stuff ground and mixed real good, we’re gonna spread that map of the United States down on the floor and throw this stuff over it. Wherever it clumps up on the map should be a place where a witch lives.” She nodded toward the center of the room. “Clear a space and spread the map out.”

While Cassandra pushed furniture out of the way, Rita poured the last bit of powder into the ceramic bowl. Then she stirred the contents until she was satisfied with the mixture. “Grab those four candles, too.” She gestured toward the coffee table. “They go on each corner of the map.”

Cassandra spread the map on the floor and said, “I’ll be glad when we’re done with this so we can turn the AC back on. I’m sweatin’ like a pig, and it’s nearly November already.”

“It’s always muggy down here by the lake.” Rita picked up the bowl. “You done spreading out that map?”

Cassandra nodded, pulled her lighter from her pocket and lit all four candles.

Rita, bowl in hand, turned off the overhead light and knelt at the edge of the map. “Kneel right here, Cass, and let me take a’ hold of your hand.” She set the bowl on the floor beside her. “Sure wish Isabelle was here. I know this’d work, then.” She grasped Cassandra’s outstretched hand. “Link up with me.”

Rita closed her eyes and felt Cassandra’s familiar presence mingling with hers in the ethereal space they often shared. Seems emptier without Isabelle, she thought. Their minds flowed together like two rivers merging at a confluence, or two buckets of paint poured into a larger pail; she felt the familiar surge and smiled, drawing a deep breath though her nose. They were now fuller, stronger, as one. She waited several quiet moments until she felt their combined magic had reached its peak, then she dipped her free hand in the bowl, grabbed a fistful of the powder, and flung it in the air over the map while she shouted, “Show me!”

She blinked and looked at the result. “Quick, Cass, turn on the light, but try not to disturb the powder.”

Cassandra stood and walked to the wall switch. “Want me to blow out the candles, too?”

“No. Might blow the powder around.”

“Might catch the house on fire again.”

“We can deal with that.” When the light flicked on, she carefully leaned over the map, pulling a pair of reading glasses from her pocket and slipping them on. “Okay, let’s see what we got.”

Cassandra joined her on the floor. “What’re we lookin’ for?”

“Any spots where the powder’s clumped up.” She pointed to one. “Like this. It’s in...” — she leaned closer — “Las Vegas, Nevada.” She nodded. “Likely place for a witch.”

“Here’s one in Oregon somewhere.” Cassandra looked closely. “Don’t see no city there.”

“Powder may be covering it. We’ll mark it with a pen and clean off the stuff later.” She pointed to a spot. “Here’s another one. Looks like it’s in North Carolina...Hendersonville, maybe.”

“This looks like one in Detroit.” Cassandra touched the spot.

“Don’t mess it up!” Rita shot her a hard look.

Cassandra brought her finger to her nose and sniffed it. Then she put it in her mouth and looked thoughtful. “Tastes like syrup. Did anybody eat pancakes with this map out?”

“Damn. Could be.” Rita looked and saw several other clumps. When she touched them, they seemed to be stuck. “Dammit all! I can’t tell which of these are real finds.”

Cassandra sat back on her bottom and crossed her arms over her knees. “Rita honey, this ain’t working.”

Rita pressed her mouth tight before answering. “I know, Cass, I know.”

“What’re we gonna do?”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but we need help.” She exhaled heavily. “We’re gonna have to make a trip to see Momma Sue.”

Chapter 11

Jamie took a deep breath and hesitated before knocking on Fred’s front door, trying to calm his jittery stomach. That door, one he had knocked on a thousand times, had always seemed welcoming to him, but now he felt like he was knocking on the door to the principal’s office — or the Inquisitor’s. Fred sounded serious on the phone. Her dad must’ve found out about me and Fred making out on their living room couch yesterday. He set his jaw and rapped his knuckles on the hard wood. Here goes.

Larry opened the door. “Hello, Jamie. Glad you could come.” He motioned for Jamie to enter and said, “I know you have homework so we won’t keep you long.” Jamie stepped into their living room where he found Fred sitting next to her mother on the couch. Neither was smiling.

“Sit anywhere,” Larry said. Jamie sat on the front edge of a wing chair while Larry sat beside Fred.

Jamie looked into the three serious faces of the Callahans. I feel like I’m in front of a jury. I hope he doesn’t make me and Fred stop seeing each other.

Larry looked at Jamie and took a long breath before saying, “Do you know why I asked you to come over?”

“Are Fred and I in trouble?”

He gave his head a tight shake. “It’s not about that.” He glanced at Fred and continued. “Lisa just told me about Fred. About her being a...about her having power.”

“You mean that she’s a witch?”

Larry winced. “I don’t like that word.”

“Sorry.”

“I called you over here because I have some questions about this, and I’m hoping you’ll know the answers.”

“What can I tell you?”

“Well, for one thing, what does this mean? Her power? I know she can talk to you in dreams, but is that it?”

“I’m pretty sure if she had a good spell or potion book, she could do the magic in it. It takes a real witch to do that.”

Larry’s brow furrowed. “Wish you wouldn’t use that W word. It has such an ugly connotation.”

“That’s just because of the movies and fairy tales and stuff. Where Eddan’s from, witches aren’t thought of like that. A lot of them are respected members of their communities.”

“What kind of things would a witch do? Do they fly like you and blast things?”

Jamie chuckled. “No, a witch’s power manifests itself differently from wizards. I guess the best way to put it is that wizards use magic to manipulate things and witches use it to manipulate people and nature. Witches do that mostly by making potions and charms and stuff. Amulets are real popular, I think. They sell plenty of those. Selling those kinds of things is how they make their living.”

Larry rubbed his cheek for a moment. “I never thought of it like that.”

“It’s kind of a vocation, like being a farmer or a cobbler. People come to the witches for specific problems, like...love potions. Plenty of girls go to them for that. A witch can do okay if she lives in a community with lots of young people.”

Fred grinned. “Dad, I could make a little money on the side selling love potions at school. Great way to save for college.”

Larry scowled. “That’s not funny, Fred.”

Lisa slid forward to the edge of the couch. “How about the black magic thing? How do we know if Fred’s magic is good or bad?”

“There’s no such thing as black magic,” Jamie said firmly. “There’s just...power. It depends on who’s using it. A bad person may do bad things with their magic, like Renn, for example, but the magic itself is neither good nor bad. A lot of sorcerers and witches do good things with theirs. Especially the witches.” Jamie leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, ankle over knee. “If a village doesn’t have a healer, they’ll probably depend on a witch for cures to some things, like a real bad cough, or chronic headaches.”

“Do these cures work?” Lisa asked.

“Some do. Depends on the witch. Some are better at it than others. Some witches form groups to combine their power.”

“A coven?”

“I think a coven has thirteen. But any number can link up and make their magic stronger. Three’s a good number, I think.” Like me and Fred and Rollie when we link up.

“How do they learn this stuff? There’s not a witches’ school, is there?”

Jamie laughed. “They learn from an older witch, like an apprentice blacksmith would learn from a master. Some of them learn from their mothers.”

Fred slapped Lisa on the knee and smirked. “I told you it was all your fault.”

Lisa put one hand to her mouth. “You don’t suppose....”

“No, Mrs. Callahan,” Jamie said. “I don’t think you have any power.”

“But she can be a real witch when she’s mad.” Fred nodded.

Lisa gave her a hard look. “Watch it, young lady.”

Fred put one finger to her cheek and said in a little girl’s voice, “I’ll be good, Mama.”

Larry threw one hand in the air and frowned. “See what I’m dealing with, Jamie? We’ve got a serious situation here, and Fred acts like it’s nothing. Lisa does, too, to a certain extent.”

“Lighten up, Larry,” Lisa said. “Jamie’s known he’s a sorcerer most of his life, and he’s handled it just fine. Admirably, I think, considering what he went through with that evil sorcerer trying to kill him and all.”

Larry shook his head. “But this is Fred we’re talking about...our little girl...my daughter.”

“Don’t worry too much about it, Mr. Callahan,” Jamie said. “I can help her.”

Larry stared at him, a conflicted look in his eyes, and took a long breath through his nose. “Okay.” He nodded and his mouth gave a little twitch. “Just don’t get her any spell books or anything.”

“I don’t need ’em, Daddy,” Fred said, holding up her little finger. “I’ve already got Jamie wrapped around this.”

Lisa looked at Fred and then at Jamie. “You don’t think...was Fred using magic on you when she was trying...I mean, before you two....?”

“Fell in love?” Fred said. “I don’t know.” She looked at Jamie and cocked her head slightly. “What do you think? Was I?”

Jamie opened his mouth but no words came out. Maybe she was and I didn’t know it. She didn’t know it, either. I need to be careful what I say right now. “It doesn’t matter, Mrs. Callahan. I’m under her spell for good now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He felt relieved when he saw the little smile cross Fred’s face. “In fact, I think I’ve been under it for a long time.”

“Since before we were born,” Fred added.

Lisa’s face brightened, and Jamie remembered that she liked to say that. There may be something to it. Larry didn’t seem as worried, either.

Larry gave a quick nod and blew a gust of air from the side of his mouth. “Okay.” He stood and offered Jamie his hand. “Thanks, Jamie. I feel better.”

Jamie took his hand and stood, too. “I’m glad I could help. Don’t worry about Fred. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble with this.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “She’s still Fred, after all. How much trouble could she get in to?”

* * *

Jamie became aware of Fred’s presence beside him and felt the rope against his back. We’re on a hammock, he realized. In a dream. Palm trees stood at the edge of the patio around them, their dark green fronds swishing softly in a breeze that smelled faintly of the sea.

“Hey,” Jamie said.

“Hey yourself,” Fred said. She wore a long yellow beach shirt, and she was barefoot. Jamie looked down to see that he had on a white T-shirt and shorts, and he was barefoot, too.

“Are we at the house in Ponte Vedra?” Jamie said.

“I must’ve thought about it right before I went to sleep. Pretty good dream, huh?”

“I’ll say.” He inhaled deeply through his nose. “I can even smell you. You smell a little like sun tan lotion.” He hooked his fingers through the rope of the hammock. “I can feel things, almost like I’m awake. How do you do that?”

Fred shook her head. “It seems like the more I do this, the more detailed the dreams get, and I’m not really trying. It just comes out that way.”

“You and I must have some kind of link that’s even stronger than we imagined, if you can influence my sensations like that.”

“Is that the most romantic way you can describe that?” she said flatly.

“Oh. Um...well, we —”

“Never mind, Geek Boy.” She rolled onto her side and pressed her fingertip gently into his cheek. “You can make it up to me by telling me why I’m so much like the Dream Fairy.”

“I can do that,” he said, remembering how his mother used to describe the Dream Fairy to him when he was young, a little story she’d tell him to help him go to sleep. He recalled her exact words. “She’s got long, lovely, red hair — just like yours — emerald-green eyes,” —he looked closely into Fred’s eyes — “just like yours, and she has a face like an angel.” He reached over with one hand and caressed her cheek. “Like yours. I’ve never seen a real angel, but I don’t have to, because I’ve seen you.”

“Bravo! That was beautiful.” She kissed his cheek. “I knew you could do it.”

“Do you have your fairy earrings?”

“Hold on.” Fred closed her eyes for a moment and then opened her hand. Two tiny glass figures lay in her palm. “I do now.”

Jamie shook his head. “That’s incredible that you have so much control over this.”

“I want you to make them fly again, just like when we were kids.” She held them out, her palm flat, the two figures lying on their sides.

“I don’t think I can. It’s your dream.” He touched each fairy anyway, and they began to glow.

“See there? You can.”

“I didn’t do it. You did. I didn’t feel any magic.”

Fred gestured with her other hand and the fairies stood, then their wings began to flutter; they rose in the air and began to circle them. “I guess I am doing it.”

“Do you think you can make anything you want to in this dream?”

“How about a monster?” Fred gestured again, and an enormous purple figure rose nearby as the two fairies flew away and hid behind her. Long, hairy, orangutan-like arms sporting six-fingered hands with vicious claws waved about menacingly. The beast’s boulder-sized head was dominated by a gaping maw; wicked fangs oozed saliva that dribbled down its chin.

It took a step ponderous toward them and Jamie said, “Uh, Fred....”

Fred flicked her fingers on one hand and the monster exploded into thousands of purple confetti-like bits. Jamie covered his face with his arm and Fred said, “Don’t worry. I won’t let the mean monster hurt my baby.” She wiggled her fingers and the fairies returned, orbiting over them like two tiny satellites.

“That was pretty real looking. You can probably do anything, Fred.”

“That’s ’cause I’m the Dream Fairy.”

“The Dream Fairy flies around.”

Fred sat up, her face set in concentration, and a pair of wings sprouted from her back, growing rapidly. Jamie had to move to keep from getting poked in the face by one of them as they unfurled. Fred was a butterfly, emerging from a cocoon, opening her wings for the first time.

“That’s okay, Fred, I get the idea!”

The wings vanished as Fred laughed and lay back down.

“Can you put us anyplace that you want to now, or does it still have to be someplace you’re familiar with?”

“Where do you want to go?”

He tried to think of some place exotic, but ended up saying the first thing that popped into his head. “How about your couch?”

Fred winked and they reappeared in her living room. Jamie was lying down with his head in her lap. He had to blink several times to get oriented. “Wow. That’s great! Now we can make out here without your dad bothering us.”

“Before we do,” Fred said, touching his chin and running her finger sensually around his jaw, “there’s a favor I need to ask.”

“Anything for you.”

“There are two, actually.” She put her hand on his cheek and bent her head closer, eyes locked on his. “I want to have Melanie take the oath so we can tell her about our magic.”

“Anything but that,” he said quickly.

Her eyes narrowed and she sat up straight. “Why not?”

“I think the question we should be asking is why should we?”

“Because she and I have gotten to be really good friends and I think it’s better to tell her than let her find out by accident.”

“Are we gonna tell everybody? How about Bryce? How about Tom, Dick, and Harry?”

“You might want to tell Bryce, if you two really are such good buddies. If we slip up around them and say something we’re not supposed to, we’re in a heap of trouble. Word could get around fast, and then where would we be?”

“People might not believe it.”

“Are you willing to take that chance? I don’t want to go hide out in a cave. Maybe that was fine for Eddan, but I like the comforts of home.”

Jamie blew out a long gust of air and looked into Fred’s determined eyes. I don’t think she’s going to let this go. “Okay, but not until we talk to our parents first.”

“Why? We’re not babies, Jamie. We can make decisions for ourselves.”

“We’re only seventeen, and this decision affects more than just us.”

“Hmph.” She stroked his chin again. “Well, getting to my second favor. Will you take us to the mall on Sunday?”

“You and Melanie? Why?”

“Her car’s in the shop, and my parents need both of theirs. Melanie can get a ride to my house so we don’t have to pick her up.”

“Can I just drop you off and pick you up later?”

“I guess.” She caressed his cheek. “You should come with us. You need some new clothes.”

“Shop at the mall? I’d rather be tied to a post and whipped with barbed wire.”

“That can be arranged.” A burly, shirtless man with a black-leather mask appeared near the opening to the front hall. He held a coil of silver barbed wire in one hand and tattoos covered his massive bare arms.

Jamie ground his teeth for a moment before saying, “Fred, I don’t like being manipulated this way. I’m not so sure that I like it that you have power, all of a sudden.”

The burly man vanished and Fred said, “Oh, so it’s okay if you have power, but not me?”

He sat up. “That’s not what I meant.”

Her eyes grew stormy and threatened lightning strikes. “You’re just mad because we’re on more equal footing now.”

“I’ve never thought of us as being anything but equal,” he said without hesitation.

Her face became thoughtful, softer. “Do you mean that?” He nodded and she said, “Well, how about you promise to go shopping with us if I promise to make out with you right now?”

“You’d do that anyway.” She gave him a long, steady look and he said, “Okay. I’ll go shopping with you if you make sure your dad doesn’t appear in this dream. I want total privacy.”

“Deal.” She leaned closer, put her arms around his neck and pulled his face to hers.

Chapter12

Evelyn looked over her shoulder again, and Connie patted her twin sister’s hand. “They’ll be here, Evelyn. Relax.” They were in Asheville in the Thomas Wolfe Auditorium, sitting in the floor section, more than twenty rows back from the stage.

“Wish we’d gotten here sooner,” Evelyn said. “We could’ve gotten better seats.” She turned and looked at the balcony that ran along both sides and the rear of the hall; it was full. The only open seats were in the very back.

“These are fine. We can see the stage perfectly,” Connie said.

Evelyn had saved the two seats on her right for Rachel and Carl. Lisa and Larry sat on the other side of those next to the aisle. Connie was on Evelyn’s left, Ray was next to her, and Gina and Cory were last on the row. Gina leaned forward and said, “This is so exciting, Aunt Evelyn! Do you know I’ve never seen Jamie perform before? At least not live. Just the videos you showed me.” She looked up and waved. “Oh! Look who’s finally here.”

Evelyn turned again to see Rachel and Carl walking down the aisle toward them, their coats draped over their arms, Rachel with the program in one hand. They waved back and joined them; Rachel eased into the red cushioned seat next to Evelyn and said, “We had trouble finding a parking spot.”

“What time did Jamie get here?” Connie asked.

“He left with Fred and Rollie about two o’clock. They had to get here early for a dress rehearsal and makeup and stuff.”

“Makeup? Even the boys?”

Carl pointed to a large camera on the balcony to their right. “They might be on television. We talked to another camera operator in the back, and he said it’ll probably be on the TriSouth Network.”

“Never heard of it,” Ray said.

“I don’t think our cable company carries it.”

“So how do we watch it?”

“Maybe Jamie can find it online.”

A blonde-haired girl sitting several rows ahead of them turned and waved, flashing a dimpled smile.

“Who’s that?” Evelyn asked.

Lisa waved back at the girl and said, “That’s Melanie. She’s one of Fred’s friends.”

“That’s the girl who kissed Jamie, Mom,” Rachel said.

“Oh my,” Evelyn said. “I can see why Fred was jealous. She’s pretty.”

Ray looked at Rachel and said, “Jamie could probably win this contest hands down if he wanted to, couldn’t he?”

A well-dressed couple in the row ahead of them, a man and a woman in their early forties, turned and glared at Ray. Ray glared back at them and said, “Well, he could.”

“Right,” the well-dressed man said. “Everybody thinks that about their child.”

“Oh, I suppose you have a kid in this contest?”

“Abigail Moore,” the woman replied. “She’s a ballet dancer. She’s going to try out for a New York dance company next year.”

“Oh, ballet.” Ray, never one to waste time reading Miss Manners, pretended to yawn.

“And this Jamie fellow? I suppose you’re related to him somehow.” The woman said in a dry tone.

“He’s my great-nephew, Jamie Sikes. He’s a magician, and he’s fantastic. He goes on right before intermission.”

“Oh, magic,” she said. “How...interesting.” But her eyes said otherwise. She obviously wanted them to know that she was too polite to say how she really felt.

“At least we won’t fall asleep during his show.”

The couple sniffed as one and turned their heads away to face the stage. Evelyn had to clamp her jaws tightly to keep from smiling.

Connie whispered to Evelyn, “He could win, couldn’t he?”

Evelyn whispered back, “If Jamie flew around the auditorium and made a doorway to transport this whole audience to another world, I think there would be no doubt.”

“But he won’t, will he?”

“He wants Fred and Rollie to win. Plus, it would be a little hard to explain.” The lights flickered twice and she said, “It’s starting.”

The first act was a juggler named Edgar Silverman. He was anything but boring.

Connie whispered to Evelyn halfway through his performance, “He’s going to be tough to beat.”

Evelyn nodded but didn’t say anything. The next act was a singer, and Evelyn was not impressed with her. The classical pianist who followed was talented, but the applause from the audience was subdued. She was followed by another singer, a boy, who looked too scared to win. Evelyn found herself counting the performers on the program — sixteen. Eight now, and then intermission. That leaves only three more until it’s Jamie’s turn.

The ballerina, Abigail, came next. She’s pretty good, Evelyn thought, but not exciting enough. She glanced at Ray, who stifled a yawn, a real one.

A gymnast and then a girl who played the marimba followed, but Evelyn found herself mentally urging them to hurry so Jamie could come onstage.

When it was finally his turn, Jamie was introduced by the Master of Ceremonies and got a nice round of applause as he walked across the stage. “Some of these people may have seen him before,” Evelyn said. “Probably at one of the benefit shows.”

“Is he going to do any real magic?” Connie whispered.

“At the end. He told me he’s going for the laughs.”

Jamie had his cloth-covered magic table set up, and he wore a black tuxedo and a top hat. After a couple of minutes of routine, off-the-shelf tricks, he removed his hat and set it on the table. Then he tapped it with his magic wand and a brown-and-white rabbit popped its head up. A collective aww rose from the crowd, but when the rabbit looked at Jamie and dropped back into the hat, the awws turned to laughs.

Jamie’s expression grew determined and he reached way down into the hat, his arm disappearing all the way up to his armpit; he pulled out a rubber chicken. The audience chuckled as he threw it over his shoulder and reached back in, felt around for a moment, and pulled out a multicolored scarf...and pulled out some more scarf...and even more scarf, a scarf with almost no end. He finally pulled the last of it free and picked up the hat, looked into it with a puzzled, Charlie Chaplinesque expression, and scratched his head.

While he stood there looking perplexed, a small, furry animal appeared at the far right edge of the stage by the curtain — the rabbit — and it hopped across the floor. Jamie, apparently alerted by the crowd’s laughter, turned and saw it and tracked it down. He grabbed the bunny and shoved it into the hat, started his bow, but stopped when he heard the laughter. He turned mid-bow and saw the bunny hopping across the stage again.

He grabbed it, carried it to the table and shoved it back in the hat, only to have it come hopping from the wings again. The laughter grew as he picked it up and repeated the now familiar process, only this time he finished by waving his wand about and saying a few magic words. Then he took a quick glance at the wings, and seeing no rabbit, picked up a set of cups from under the table.

There was a commotion from the audience. Jamie looked up as someone said, “It’s the bunny!” A young woman squealed, “He’s in the aisle.” Jamie shielded his eyes from the lights with his hand and every head turned to catch a glimpse of the rabbit, hopping up the aisle toward the stage. Jamie motioned to the crowd and someone grabbed the animal and carried it to Jamie. He knelt by the footlights, retrieved the errant rabbit, and scolded him with a shake of his finger.

He grabbed the hat from the table, shoved the rabbit back inside, and putting one hand on the bottom and the other on top, he said “Disappearo!” He flattened it to a black pancake. A little girl wailed from the crowd, “You killed it!”

Jamie grinned and put his hand over his mouth as the audience chuckled. Then he tapped the hat three times with the wand, and it popped back to full size. With a dramatic gesture, he reached into the hat, pulled out the rabbit, and held it aloft. Then he took his bow. His performance was over.

The ovation was warm, but not overwhelming. Evelyn felt a twinge of disappointment. He could’ve done so much more.

The lights came on for intermission and they stood, shuffling their way with the rest of the crowd to the lobby. Ray put his face to Evelyn’s ear and asked quietly, “How did he get that rabbit to do that?”

“Jamie can get an animal to do just about anything. You should see him with dogs.”

Ray nodded. “So that’s why they like him at the vet clinic so much.”

When they returned to their seats, Connie scanned the audience and said, “Where are Rollie’s parents?”

Rachel pointed. “All the way up front with a big group from their church. You’ll hear them when Rollie’s introduced.”

The lights dimmed for the start of the second half of the show. Rollie walked onstage with his dummy, Rufus, and the front couple of rows went crazy, screaming and clapping and waving at the dark-skinned young man with the big grin.

Connie leaned over to Evelyn in order to be heard over the din. “The dummy even looks like Rollie.”

“Jamie modified it a little.” She wiggled her fingers and raised her eyebrows.

“Oh.” She nodded.

Rollie opened his act with the dummy looking at the audience and nodding. It moved its mouth and appeared to say, “Hi, my name is Rufus.” It looked at Rollie. “And this is my dummy, Rollie.” The crowd laughed and Rollie launched into his routine.

While watching Rollie perform, Evelyn thought, He’s gotten so good. He doesn’t even have to tell a joke to be funny now. All he has to do is stand there and grin.

Rollie finished and got the loudest ovation yet — not just from his vociferous church friends — but from the entire audience. Evelyn smiled as she clapped, stopping for a moment to wipe away a tear. I’m so proud of him.

Evelyn had trouble paying attention to the next performer, another singer. The bluegrass trio that followed was more interesting, but they were weak on their instruments. Evelyn found herself drumming her fingers on the armrest and rereading the program during the next couple of performances. The next-to-last act was a piano-flute duo. She found it impossible to focus on them. I wish they’d hurry up so we can see Fred.

The duo finished, and as the stage crew rolled away the piano, Evelyn felt her palms grow damp and her stomach tighten. Lisa looked over and said, “I’m so nervous!”

“Me, too, Lisa,” Evelyn said.

“Do you think Fred is?” Connie said.

“Maybe a little. The kids probably did their chant before they started.”

“What chant?”

Gina grinned and said, “We’re the Crew, we can’t be beat.” Lisa and Rachel joined her. “Everybody smell our feet!”

Connie’s brow furrowed. “Why do they do that?”

“It helps them relax.” Evelyn said. “It works. I just found out recently why.” Her sister continued to look at her quizzically. Evelyn wiggled her fingers at her and whispered, “Magic.”

Connie nodded and whispered back, “Ohhhhh.”

The stage lights shifted to a single spot and the music started. A man and a woman with professional video cameras on their shoulders went down front to the edge of the stage and Evelyn thought, The director must’ve decided that Fred was the most telegenic of the contestants. They’re probably right.

Fred made her entrance, skipping and twirling across the stage, and Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat. She looks stunning. She wore a short black tuxedo jacket over a black sequined leotard and white hose. The white tie around her neck sparkled with more sequins and she had a red satin cummerbund around her narrow waist. Her hair flowed free in a mass of curls in the back, but was held up at the sides by two rhinestone-covered clasps that flashed under the lights. Her face glowed with a confident smile, inviting the audience’s attention. No, she commands it.

Her opening moves were simple: shuffle toe, shuffle toe toe, shuffle toe, brush step. She repeated the combination with each foot as she moved her arms; the music was uncomplicated and energetic. More lights came on, blues and deep reds. The music morphed into a propulsive techno-beat, and Fred danced aggressively, athletically, hammering the stage with her taps. Power and grace and beauty. That’s what she is.

The music changed again. It’s a medley, Evelyn realized. It became a country swing and Fred glided about the stage, more arms and legs, fewer strikes with her feet, almost like a ballerina at a barn dance. She skipped to the edge of the curtain and someone from the wings handed her a rose. She put it in her mouth, clapped her hands and stamped her foot twice, and the music changed to flamenco, a nylon string guitar strumming furiously. Applause burst from the audience as Fred, back straight and face held high, unleashed a dizzying rhythm of claps and steps that pushed Evelyn’s pulse even higher.

Fred plucked the rose from her mouth and threw it into the crowd, and the music shifted, simplifying to a single bass drum that pounded thunderously on the downbeat. Fred supplied the other rhythms, an orchestra of percussionists in her heels and toes. She danced less with her arms and more with her feet, the permutations of the rhythms becoming more and more complex, her black-sequined shoes blurring and the machine-gun clacks of the taps accelerating to a dazzling chatter that nearly overwhelmed Evelyn’s senses.

Fred, dancing with so much energy she threatened to catch on fire, worked her way to the far right side of the stage. Is she going to get another prop? A rose? The music pounded and more instruments joined to swell it to a feverous pitch. What’s she going to do? She’s going to explode! She paused at the edge of the curtain and the music reached a crescendo.

Evelyn gasped as Fred did three backward handsprings, head over heels, her red hair forming a searing arc as she twirled, her feet striking the floor together — crack, crack, crack — while the entire audience held its collective breath. On the last titanic crash of the music, she landed on the floor in a split, threw her arms out and thrust her chin high, smiling broadly.

There was a brief, incomprehensible pause. No music. No dancing. No sound. Fred on the floor, posing theatrically and smiling as her chest heaved. The audience processing what just happened.

It’s over!

Larry and Lisa were first on their feet, clapping. Evelyn quickly followed with the rest of the crowd. Even the couple in the row in front of Evelyn stood, eventually. Fred rose and bowed to the deafening ovation. She’s going to win! Evelyn was certain. Fred walked to the wings but had to return as the crowd continued to applaud. She tried to leave again but had to come back for another bow.

Fred skipped to the wings as the applause faded, and the Master of Ceremonies walked onstage to announce that there would be a ten-minute intermission while the judges tallied their votes.

“Oh, my heart!” Rachel said, putting her hand to her chest. “I don’t know if it could’ve taken much more.” Evelyn looked past Rachel to see Lisa’s reaction: she was dabbing her eyes with a tissue while Larry stood beside her, beaming like a red-headed lighthouse.

The couple in front of them turned and the woman said to Evelyn, “So you know that girl?”

“Very well. I used to baby sit her after school when she was younger. The ventriloquist, Rollie, too. The magician, Jamie, is my grandson.”

“They’re all so good.” The woman shook her head slowly. “How did they get that way?”

“I used to have them do benefit shows all the time, like Elks Club dinners and retirement homes and such. They’ve done an awful lot of performances, though never on a stage as nice as this. A few times Fred even had to dance on a sheet of plywood so she wouldn’t scuff up the floor, but she did it anyway. She’s a trooper.”

“The tap dancer? I thought the announcer said her name was Grace Mary.”

“We started calling her Red when she was little,” Lisa said. “But when her personality started showing, we changed it to Fred the Firecracker.”

“She sure dances like a firecracker,” Connie said.

The woman in front of them gave her head a tight shake. “More like a box of dynamite.”

A few minutes later, the crowd quieted as the Master of Ceremonies took center stage, the sixteen contestants forming a line behind him as he read the results. Alternate: Jessica Deswberry, a singer, who shook the MC’s hand and joined him at center stage.

Connie nodded and said, “I thought she was pretty good.”

“Me too,” Evelyn said. I thought Jamie had a shot at winning that. Maybe not first place, but at least alternate.

“Third Finalist,” the MC read from the envelope, “Edgar Silverman.”

“He deserved it,” Connie said. “He was really good.”

Evelyn barely heard her. Her heart was tumbling a few more steps down the stairwell of disappointment. Only two more winners! Somebody’s going to lose...it may be Jamie. Please no. But how can I wish against Fred and Rollie?

The Master of Ceremonies read the name of the Second Finalist. “Rollie Wilkens.” Rollie grinned broadly as he stepped forward to join the other winners. Evelyn clapped enthusiastically with the rest of the audience. He definitely deserved it. I’m happy for him.

“And now,” the Master of Ceremonies said, “joining the other winners who will be representing our city in the regional competition in Atlanta, the First Finalist and overall winner....” — he paused for effect — “Grace Mary Callahan!”

The applause was thunderous as Fred walked across the stage to stand next to Rollie, her hands to her face, eyes wide with joy and surprise. Way to go, Fred. Evelyn stood and most of the rest of the audience did, too. The other contestants stepped forward to join the winners, and Jamie pushed next to Fred and took her hand. The clapping continued as Rollie took her other hand. The rest of the contestants, seeing them, must’ve thought it was part of the show, because they all joined hands, too. They bowed together as one, a long chain of talented kids, some smiling, some wearing masks of disappointment. The ballerina’s face was as tight as the bun on her head. Her mother turned to Evelyn and said over the din, “I’m sorry your grandson didn’t win.”

Evelyn shook her head. “I’m sorry your daughter didn’t, too. She’s very talented.”

“I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

Rachel leaned close to Evelyn and said, “Mom, don’t worry too much about Jamie. It’s what he wanted.”

But it’s not what I wanted.

When the applause finally faded and the house lights came on, Evelyn turned to Connie and said, “Wait for me by the doors. I’m going back stage to see if I can catch Jamie.”

She found him in the wings, kneeling on the floor, packing his magic trunk; a pet carrier with the rabbit inside was nearby. She clapped as she approached him and said, “Well done! You were magnificent.”

He stood and hugged her. “Thanks, Gramma. Everything worked out great, didn’t it?”

She disengaged from their embrace but took his hand. “I wanted you to win. I know you didn’t want to, but I did.”

“It’s fine. Fred and Rollie need the money more than I do, and it wouldn’t be right, anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because, if you think about it, most of my talent is from sheer luck because I was born with it. Fred and Rollie got all theirs from plain old hard work. They deserved to win.”

“You’ve worked hard, too.”

“Not like they have. And I wanted to use a little real magic tonight, and the oath wouldn’t have let me win because there’s prize money. I can’t make money off of my magic.”

“You probably could if you really tried.”

“I don’t think so. The oath has a power all its own. It would intervene, somehow, I’m sure.”

“Well, I still think you’re the best.” She kissed his cheek. “Have you seen Fred?”

“The last I saw, she was still posing for pictures with the other winners.”

“Oh well.” She let go of his hand. “Tell Fred and Rollie to stop by your house later. We’re having a little celebration.”

“I think Rollie’s got plans, but I’ll tell him.”

“I made brownies.”

“In that case, I’m sure he’ll come.”

* * *

She couldn’t feel him every night, but tonight she could. It was like playing a game of Marco Polo in a pool, swimming underwater with her eyes closed, feeling for Jamie’s current. Only Fred’s eyes were closed because she was sleeping.

I found him!

She opened her eyes in her dream and found she was sitting next to Jamie on the edge of the stage at the Thomas Wolfe Auditorium. The hall was deserted and they faced a sea of empty red seats. “Hey,” he said. “Long time no see.”

Fred laughed. “Maybe three whole hours. Did you miss me?”

“I hardly got to see you at all tonight. You were always surrounded by swarms of people.”

She patted her hair. “That’s what happens when you become famous.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

She put her arms around his neck and twisted her mouth into a half smile. “Jamie...thank you.”

One of his eyebrows drew down. “For what?”

“For letting me win.”

“I did not let you win.”

“Yes you did. You could’ve done some magic that would’ve blown everybodys’ minds, but you didn’t. You held back so I could win.”

“I didn’t hold back. I tried.”

“Come on...the magic rings trick? My dad could probably do that. But I have to admit the rabbit bit was pretty funny.”

“I was afraid it would be too funny and I’d show up Rollie.”

“See? You did hold back.”

“Not really. I couldn’t be funnier than him no matter what.”

“No.” She patted his back. “But you did try to let me win. Admit it.”

“Fred, I don’t think anybody could’ve beaten you tonight. You were on fire.” He touched her shoulder with one finger and then shook it. “Sssst.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yeah. My dad said that the camera crew seemed to think so, too. He said they really honed in on you.”

“In that case, I’d better start practicing my signature for autographs.”

“And I can say I knew you when you were a nobody.”

“I’ll never admit it to that.” She rubbed his back. “I’m going to let you go back to your regular dreams now. Don’t forget you’re taking me and Melanie to the mall in the afternoon.”

“But we’re not telling her about the magic until we talk to our parents, right?”

“We’ll see.”

Chapter 13

Jamie walked down the church steps with Fred, but she wouldn’t hold his hand; her eyes were narrow and her mouth had a stubborn set. She’s not too happy with me right now, he knew. His parents, her parents, Gramma, Aunt Connie, and Uncle Ray were already waiting outside on the wide walkway.

“Where should we go to talk?” Carl said when Jamie and Fred joined them.

“Over here.” Jamie led them across the church lawn to a spot far enough away from anyone else to be overheard.

Larry smirked. “Hey Jamie, isn’t this the spot where Fred burned you up for setting the minister on fire?”

“Don’t remind me.” Fred looks like she wants to burn me up right now. He remembered years ago when he’d accidentally ignited the minister’s robe one Sunday with his magic. Fred lit in to him later, demanding that he keep his magic under control, while their families watched from afar.

They stopped on the grass and formed a tight circle. Gramma said, “So what’s this all about?”

Jamie took a deep breath and a quick glance at Fred before saying, “Fred wants to tell Melanie about our magic.”

“Why?” Lisa said.

Fred crossed her arms. “Because she’s gotten to be a really good friend now, and I think she should know, just in case I forget and say something I shouldn’t.”

“But she’s not family, honey.”

“I know, but if she takes the oath, it won’t matter if she overhears anything, because the magic won’t let her tell anybody.”

Gramma looked dubious. “Does that mean that all of us should get all of our friends to take the oath? That could end up being an awful lot of people.”

A little cloud of doubt crossed Fred’s face. “Well...we could just tell our closest friends.”

“That’s still a lot,” Rachel said. “Once we tell Sophie, that’ll be twelve family members.” She looked at Carl. “Have you decided if you want to tell your parents or not?”

He shook his head. “Maybe someday, but not now.”

Lisa put her hand on Fred’s arm. “Honey, let’s think about this.” Fred started to object, but Lisa continued, “We’re not saying no, just...not right now. Let’s not rush into it.”

“All right,” Fred said, but her expression said otherwise. As they walked to their cars, she looked at Jamie.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She shot him an angry look and walked off with her parents.

He stared at her back and thought, Guess she’s not riding home with me.

* * *

Later, Jamie leaned against his car and checked his watch. Maybe they’re not coming. Good. I hate going to the mall. A door slammed nearby, and he looked catty-cornered across the street to see Fred and Melanie hopping down Fred’s front steps. Here they come. Wonder if Fred’s still mad at me. She caught his eye and waved. Maybe not.

As he watched them approach, he couldn’t help thinking, This won’t be so bad. I’m going to the mall with the two prettiest girls in school...maybe in all of Hendersonville. When they both smiled at him at the same time, he recast his opinion. Maybe the prettiest anywhere.

They sure are different, though. Fred’s skin was fair; her thick red hair blazed in the sun, flowing behind her like a mane. Her emerald eyes could flash warnings of an approaching storm when she was angry, but now they sparkled like a trill on the topmost keys of a piano.

Melanie was a little shorter and slimmer, with tanned skin and long, straight, golden-blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her brown eyes were as soft and warm as a deer’s. Her face was friendly when she smiled, with deep dimples that could charm honey from a bee.

Jamie had often seen boys at school stare at both of them when they walked by.

No, he realized, this won’t be bad at all.

The girls weren’t two steps onto his driveway before Fred stopped. “I forgot my phone.” She turned and said over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back!” and ran toward her house.

Jamie and Melanie were alone together for the first time since Bryce’s party, the night of the kiss. Hurry, Fred.

“Hey Jamie,” Melanie said, standing at the end of his car. “You were great last night at the show.”

He had to clear his throat and swallow before he could manage a weak, “Thanks.”

“I wanted you to win, too. I was pulling for Fred, but I thought you were really good.”

“I didn’t want to win.” His palms suddenly felt sweaty even though it was a cool autumn afternoon. “Fred and Rollie could use the money.” He cleared his throat again. “For college. They’re not poor or anything.” That sounded dumb.

“That’s nice.” She looked around Jamie’s yard, then brushed the fingertips of one hand lightly across the trunk of the car. “I never got a chance to apologize about the party. About kissing you and everything.”

“That’s okay, it’s no —”

“No, I want you to know that I’m not usually like that.” She looked at her hand on the car for a moment. “Well, actually I’m never like that. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

“Forget about it.” He poked a front tire with the toe of his sneaker. “In fact, if you hadn’t kissed me, I might not’ve ever gotten around to telling Fred I loved her.”

“Yes you would’ve. It was inevitable, to hear Fred tell it.”

He gave a nervous laugh and looked across the street to see Fred skipping down her steps again, phone in hand. “Yeah. Probably.”

* * *

It was nearly sundown by the time Jamie dropped Fred and Melanie off at Fred’s house.

“Do you want to come in for a little bit?” Fred asked as they walked up her driveway and Jamie drove off.

Melanie shook her head. “My mom’s on her way. Let’s wait on your stoop ’till she gets here.”

The two girls sat on the brick steps and dropped their shopping bags beside them. Fred said, “That was fun. We should do it again sometime.”

“Jamie seemed to loosen up after he figured out I wasn’t going to bite him,” Melanie said.

“Or kiss him.”

Melanie laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve ever hung out with him. You two are a lot of fun together. You’re an interesting couple.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well....” Melanie’s face grew thoughtful. “I know you’ve only been dating a few weeks, but you seem like you’ve been together for a long time. Almost like a married couple or something.”

“We’ve been best friends since we were little. I know him better than anybody, even Rollie.”

“No, I mean you fuss, kinda, like...I dunno.”

“You mean I’m bossy, and Jamie doesn’t like it.”

“I didn’t mean that, but...like when you tried to get Jamie to buy that pair of pants, and he didn’t want them, but you pushed him pretty hard to anyway.” She gave a quick nod. “But he didn’t buy them. He’s no pushover, is he?”

“No.” Fred took a deep breath and exhaled between tightened lips. “You see, here’s my problem. I so want Jamie to be happy, but I can’t help but tell him what to do half the time, which he doesn’t like, so then he’s not happy.” She sighed and stared at her feet. “And I have to fight that all the time.” She looked at Melanie. “But I’m working on it. My mom says I’m getting better.”

“I don’t think you’re bossy. I just think you have a strong personality.”

“That’s a nice way of saying bossy.”

“Don’t let it bother you. Everybody has problems.”

“Right. Like you do, with your perfect face and your perfect hair and your cheerleader friends, and —”

“Fred, I don’t have very many friends. That’s my problem.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s hard for me to make friends, and I don’t know why.” Her eyebrows drew down. “Am I such a bad person?”

Huh? It took Fred a moment to collect her wits. “No, you’re a really nice person. I...I thought you had lots of friends. What about all the other cheerleaders?”

“Most of them are kinda shallow. Well, Tanisha’s not, but she has her own little circle of friends. And the other kids in my classes won’t hardly talk to me.”

“That’s because they’re too intimidated by your looks. You’re in all advanced classes, and I know from experience that a lot of those girls are nerdy and they probably think you don’t want to have anything to do with them.”

“That’s not true! If they’d only give me a chance, I’d —”

“They can’t help it. It’s a self-esteem problem.”

Melanie opened her mouth as if she were going to say more about it, but didn’t. She sighed instead and looked across the street at Jamie’s house. “I don’t have any friends that are boys.”

“That’s because most of them are too scared to talk to you.”

“And the ones that do are jerks, like that guy Logan.”

“Is Michael a jerk?”

“No, he’s normal, like Jamie.”

“There’s nobody like Jamie.”

Melanie chuckled. “Or you.” She glanced up and said, “My mom’s here. Give me a hug before I go.” She stood and picked up her bags, but paused for a moment. “Fred, I’m glad you’re my friend now.”

“Me, too, Melanie.”

“Do you think there’s a chance Jamie will be my friend, too?”

“Oh yeah, especially if I tell him to.” They giggled together, and Fred said, “You know that’s a joke, right?”

Melanie winked at her and went to her mother’s car.

* * *

Jamie heard his name in the crowded hall and turned to see Bryce slam his locker and hurry toward him, weaving his way through passing students as he came.

“I heard about the big talent show,” Bryce said when he reached him. “Sorry you didn’t win.”

Jamie shrugged. “The competition was fierce.”

“Yeah, but that’s cool that Fred and Rollie won. When are the regionals?”

“Late December. They’re in Atlanta.”

“We should get a group of kids together and go. That’d be fun.” They strolled through the mob. “Hey, did you get a call from the coach at Duke?”

“Was I supposed to?”

“You didn’t get a call this weekend?”

Jamie shook his head, and Bryce’s face hardened. “I shoulda’ known something was up,” he said.

Jamie stopped in the middle of the hall. “What are you talking about?”

Bryce pressed his lips into a thin line and looked away for a moment. “The assistant cross country coach at Duke called me yesterday and said he had a spot on the team they were looking to fill next year. He said he heard about my times and wanted to know about my grades and stuff.”

“So what’s wrong with that?”

“You’re times are as good as mine, and your grades are probably a little better. Why would he call me and not you?”

“He coulda called and I missed it. I was busy all weekend.”

Bryce shook his head. “He would’ve left a message.” He rubbed one hand hard across his face and scowled. “I think my dad’s working behind my back. I think he called them and made some kind of deal. He wants me to go to Duke real bad so I can major in pre-med like he did.”

“So?”

Bryce threw his hands out. “I don’t want his help. I want to do it my way. Why do you think I’m bustin’ my butt every day at practice?”

Jamie shrugged. “Don’t let it bother you, buddy. Season’s not over yet. We’re runnin’ at West Henderson this Saturday, and we could set the course record.”

“I thought Manny had it.”

“No. He didn’t run there last year. It was a home meet, remember? The record’s not that fast, I checked. We can get it.”

“If we do, let’s finish together. No one-two this time.”

“Okay. We’ll be co-record holders. Then you’ll probably hear from a college coach or two.”

* * *

Fred signed the last autograph at Angela’s Dance Studio, Room B, and looked at the clock. “Okay,” she said. “It’s six-fifteen. Time to go.”

“Not yet,” Mathew’s mom said. “We want a group picture.”

“Okay.” But I really want to go home!

Mathew’s mom herded her son and the seven leotard-clad girls — a new student had joined that day — and positioned them in front of Fred, who leaned over and smiled as the flashes went off. The room was crowded with all of the parents in there with them, chattering excitedly about Fred’s accomplishment on Saturday.

“That’s perfect,” Mathew’s mother said, checking the picture on her cell phone.

“Lemme see, lemme see,” the kids squealed, crowding around her.

Fred shook her head. It’s hard to believe I was ever like that. Oh! That reminds me. “Kids,” she announced, “I’ll have something for you when you come on Saturday. It’s a picture of me at my first recital, the same one you’ll be doing. I have my reindeer antlers on and my little red foam nose.” She touched her face and giggled. “You kids are gonna look so adorable in those.” She clapped her hands. “Now everybody scoot. Tomorrow’s a school day, and you need your rest.”

But nobody went anywhere until they hugged her goodbye. This is almost as good as winning the talent contest, she thought as the last girl squeezed Fred, her sweet little face buried in Fred’s waist. Maybe even better.

Chapter 14

Rita hummed along with the oldies’ song on the radio as their 1980 Ford LTD hurtled down Highway 90.

“I think you just missed the turnoff.” Cassandra pointed over her left shoulder.

“No I didn’t,” Rita said, right hand on the steering wheel and the other holding a lit cigarette next to the partly open window.

Cassandra held up a piece of paper and waved it at Rita. “Directions say left on Trudeau, just past the cemetery. That was the cemetery back there, and that road was probably Trudeau. We’ll end up in New Orleans if you don’t turn around.”

“Didn’t see a road sign.” Rita took one last drag off of her cigarette and pushed it out of the window.

“Turn around, Rita,” Cassandra said firmly.

“You want to drive?”

“Hell no. Just turn the damn car around.”

Rita yanked on the steering wheel and the car spun hard on the asphalt, tires squealing their complaint at the violent misdirection. The car now pointed west in the east-bound lane.

“Rita, you do know this a divided highway.”

“So it is.” She turned the car around and steered it to toward the closest cut-through. A passing car blasted a long, angry honk, the sound of the horn fading and lowering in pitch as Rita made an obscene gesture at it.

“Touchy, aren’t they?” Cassandra pointed at a drab concrete block building. A dingy wooden sign that said “Esso" was nailed to a telephone pole out front, and a dog lay under the dented aluminum awning that hung over the front door. “We can stop and get directions at this little gas station. I gotta tinkle anyway. Momma Sue probably doesn’t have indoor plumbing yet.”

Rita pulled the car into the dirt parking lot and said, “She’s always had indoor plumbing. She’s just particular about who she lets use it.” She shoved the gear shift into park. “Ask the clerk if that road back there’s the one we want. And hurry, will you? You don’t have to fix your makeup.”

Cassandra grabbed her purse from the front seat. “I might. You never know.” She slammed the door and went inside while Rita sat in the car, checking channels on the radio. She didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, Cassandra came out of the store and slid back into the passenger seat.

“That was quick,” Rita said.

Cassandra made a face. “Their bathroom is nasty. I was scared to sit all the way down on the seat. Didn’t have a mirror either.” She pulled her compact out of her purse and inspected her makeup.

“Well, is that the road back there or not?”

“Yep. Head back the way we came.”

Rita steered the car onto the highway and gunned the engine, the sudden G-force pushing them back into their seats. The little metal charm that hung from the rearview mirror swayed, and Cassandra reached up and grabbed it with one hand to make it stop. “Think this little thing is still working?”

“Don’t know. Hadn’t been pulled over in awhile. It did last time, though. Didn’t get a ticket.” She reached up and tapped it with one finger. “Must still have some magic in it.”

“Let’s not test it now, Rita.” She leaned over and glanced at the speedometer. “Keep it under eighty, will ya’?” She gestured at the highway. “We’re almost there, anyway. Slow down or you’ll miss it again.”

Rita tapped the brake pedal and turned onto the ragged little road. “There’s the road sign.” She nodded to her left at an aluminum pole bent nearly to the ground. “Says ‘Trudeau Road’. Looks like somebody ran it over.”

They passed a cluster of mailboxes, some with they’re flaps hanging open like metal tongues, awaiting their next meal of letters and bills. Behind them was a yellow dead-end sign, riddled with small dents and holes. Somebody’s been using that for target practice, Rita thought idly. Scrubby trees bordered both sides of the road, stretching as far as she could see. The asphalt was broken in places, large tufts of grass growing in the cracks.

Cassandra snapped her gum. “Man, this place is ugly.”

“Gets better, closer to Momma Sue’s.”

“I know, I been there, remember? Long time ago.”

They drove past a rusted mobile home set on blocks, a sheet of plywood covering one window. Junk cluttered what passed for a yard. An old washing machine, discarded tires, rotting cardboard boxes, and assorted trash sprouted from the weeds. A solitary rope swing with a wooden plank for a seat hung from a tree.

“Wouldn’t you love to grow up there?” Cassandra said, shaking her head as they drove by.

It wasn’t long before the asphalt ended and they continued on the bumpy dirt road that followed, passing a couple of ramshackle houses as they went. Cassandra rolled down her window and spit out her gum. “I wonder what our new witch is gonna be like.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a fresh stick of spearmint. “She’ll be younger, right?”

“Let’s hope so.”

“Wonder what her specialty’s gonna be?”

“You mean talent, Cass. Specialties are for doctors.”

“Okay, talent. I wonder, though. Like, you’ve always been really good at persuasion and stuff. You know what charms to use, or potions, to get people to do just about anything you want, seems like.”

“Not everything.” She picked up her pack of cigarettes from the seat and pulled one out, placing it between her deep-red lips and leaning over to accept the light from Cassandra. Rita took a puff, exhaled and said, “But I can get folks to do enough, seems like.”

“I know. And I’ve always been the best healer. Best at selling our stuff, too. But I hope our new girl doesn’t have the same talent as one of us ’cause it would probably be better to have something different.”

“Izzy told me about a girl she knew back in the old days who everybody called a Shadow Witch.” Rita blew a stream of smoke out of the side of her mouth toward the window. “She could listen to people anywhere, as long as they were in a shadow. Didn’t matter how far apart they were. Hundreds of miles, even, she could eavesdrop on them. Anybody talking in a shadow, she could hear what they were saying.”

“How’d she sort out who was doing the talking? Musta been zillions of people yappin’ at once.”

Rita shrugged and flicked her ashes out of the window. “Hope our new girl is good with plants. Our little herb garden is looking poorly since Isabelle died.”

“That was definitely one of her talents. She could grow anything.”

“Makes it hard to do a good potion if the herbs you’re working with are all sickly looking.”

“Like ours.” Cassandra snapped her gum and propped her feet up on the dashboard. Her toenails were a vicious red that matched her fingernails and lipstick. “This is a lot farther than I remember. Momma Sue must live almost to the river.”

“No. She’s near the lake, if you want to call it that. It’s more like a swamp.”

The scrubby trees gradually gave way to ancient live oaks that lined the dusty road, massive and sprawling, gnarled giants holding their arms overhead to form a tunnel of shade. Spanish moss hung from them like gray tattered clothing. The road rolled off steeply at the shoulders, and stagnant pools of water could be seen back in the woods.

“Damn.” Cassandra frowned. “Skeeters are probably bad here, and I forgot my bug-repellent bracelet.”

“It’s in my purse. I picked it up from the coffee table before we left.”

“Thanks, Rita. You’re always looking out for me.”

“You’d do the same for me if you weren’t such a scatterbrain.”

“I’m not a scatterbrain, I’m a creative thinker.”

Rita looked at Cassandra and lowered her eyebrows. “Since when did you create something?”

“I said thinker, not doer.” She snapped her gum again. “Doin’ requires work.”

They both snickered and drove the last couple of miles in silence.

“That must be it up ahead,” Cassandra said. The road ended in a shady clearing. A rambling, one-story wooden house with a rusted tin roof squatted on stacks of concrete blocks. It looked like it had been painted white at one time, but that color was no more than a suggestion now as weathered wood showed through everywhere. The roof sagged forlornly over the porch that stretched across the front.

A battered and dusty pickup truck sat next to a tumbled-down shed. Little arrangements of sticks and feathers and such, looking like insane dream catchers, hung from nearby trees. Rita and Cassandra parked and stepped out of the car. Rita pointed to one of the hanging structures and said, “Momma Sue’s hexes.”

“You think she knows we’re coming?” Cassandra asked, a worried look on her face.

“Of course. We wouldn’t a’ been able to get this far if she didn’t want us to.”

A wooden plank walkway led up to the porch. Rita stepped on it and pointed to a board. “Watch your step. That one’s rotten. You could break your ankle.” She looked over her shoulder at Cassandra, who followed. “And why’d you have to wear heels?”

“Always do, Rita. You know that. A girl’s gotta look her best.”

“Yeah? Well, if you get hurt, I’m not carrying you to the car.”

“You’ve done it before.” She stumbled and put her arms out to regain her balance. “Dammit. You jinxed me. Caught my heel in a crack.”

“What I really like about you, Cass, is that you always do your own stunts.” Cassandra flipped Rita the middle finger and Rita laughed.

Rita reached the porch and said, “I haven’t carried you in years. Last time, you were probably twenty-five pounds lighter.”

“It’s just water weight. I weigh the same as I always have.”

Right, Rita smirked to herself. And I’m the Queen of England.

The porch had two unpainted wooden rockers on it, and the back side was lined with benches made of rough-hewn wood, covered with unidentifiable knick knacks and potted plants.

Cassandra pointed at the benches. “What do suppose that stuff is?”

“Who knows? Could be more of Momma Sue’s voodoo stuff or it could be junk.”

Cassandra sniffed. “It all looks like junk.”

Rita reached to knock on the front door, but it creaked open on its own. She shook her head and said, “I hate it when she does that.”

“She’s showin’ off.”

“She don’t have to. It’s just a little reminder of who’s in charge here.”

They stepped inside and closed the door behind them. The front room was narrow, only a few steps across, and full of shelves and more junk. A few potted plants trailed vines that partially hid the books and things behind them.

The door to the next room was open. They walked in and found Momma Sue, sitting at one end, next to a window in a low cushioned chair — the only chair, that Rita could see. She was a wiry, leather-skinned woman with thick, wavy gray hair held back in a multi-colored scarf. She wore a loose, bright yellow cotton top and a skirt that didn’t match, except in the loudness of its many colors. She had a necklace of large wooden beads hung around her neck and gold hoop earrings in each earlobe. She was barefoot.

“Hello, girls,” she said in a raspy voice. “Sassy Cassie and Rita Red. Though I see you got some gray showin’ at the roots, Rita.” She chuckled and Rita bit her tongue.

The old woman waved one hand in a vague gesture. “Sit down. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Rita scanned the room for something suitable to sit on and finally settled for the floor, which was covered by a straw mat that smelled of mildew. Cassandra sat beside her, wincing and wrinkling her nose as she folded her legs beneath her.

Rita frowned inwardly. Momma Sue probably had chairs in here before we came. She wants to put us in our place. I’m pretty sure she won’t offer us tea and cookies.

“I know why you girls are here,” Momma Sue rasped.

“Oh really?” Cassandra said. “And why is that?”

Rita wanted to reach over and pinch Cassandra. Don’t say anything stupid, Cass! If Momma Sue thinks we’re being disrespectful, she’ll send us home empty handed.

“I heard about Isabelle,” Momma Sue continued. “Tried to walk home eight miles in the dark, and wearin’ black.” She cackled. “Stumblin’ drunk, too! Silly old fool. She always was a stubborn one.”

“We miss her real bad, Momma Sue,” Rita said. “She was a good witch.”

“You miss her ’cause she was the leader of your triad.” She narrowed her eyes at Rita. “That’s your job now. You ready for it, Rita Red?”

“I think so.”

“You think so?” She raised her voice. “You think so? What kind a’ answer is that? You be messin’ with powerful magic, and you think you’re ready?”

Rita nodded her head firmly. “I mean, I know I am. It’s time. I learned a lot from Isabelle.”

“You learn enough?” The woman’s brown eyes were penetrating and hard, measuring Rita as they held her prisoner.

I’m not going to let her get to me. Rita said without looking away, “Yes, I’m ready.” She put her hand on Cassandra’s arm. “We’re ready. But we need a third witch.”

“I knew that.” She reached over to the small table beside her and picked up a cloth pouch, closed at the top by a leather draw string. “This is what you need.” She tossed it onto Rita’s lap.

“What is that?” Cassandra asked.

“Scryin’ powder.”

“I thought you used a pendant or a crystal for that.”

“That’s for amateurs.” She nodded her head knowingly. “Girls that use the Ouija board and other nonsense. That powder there is the real deal. Momma’s Sue’s special blend.” She laughed at her little joke. Rita forced a smile.

“How do we use it?” Rita asked.

“You gots to wait ’till the next full moon, for starters.”

“When’s that?” Cassandra said.

“Fifteen days.” The old woman scowled at Cassandra. “Don’t you know, girl? What kinda witch are you, don’t know the phases of the moon?”

Cassandra looked at her lap and mumbled, “I know ’em, kinda. Don’t pay attention, is all.”

Rita came to her defense. “Me and Izzy always worried about that. Cass had other responsibilities.” Like painting her toenails. “So what do we do next?”

“Wait ’till it’s around midnight on the full moon...don’t have to be exactly twelve o’clock, just close... and get you a flame goin’.”

“A candle? Or can we use Sterno?”

Momma Sue chuckled. “Sterno. I use that sometimes. Candle might get put out by the powder. You’re gonna sprinkle that stuff into the flame, but before you do, you and Cassandra got to hold hands and link up real good, and focus on what you’re lookin’ for. I mean really focus.” She glowered at Cassandra. “I don’t mean thinkin’ ’bout your makeup and your boyfriend or whatever.”

“I got it, Momma Sue,” Cassandra said and pressed her mouth tight.

“All of the powder?” Rita said.

“Depends,” Momma Sue said. “Start off sprinklin’ kinda lightly and keep goin’ ’till you get your answer.”

“Do we have to chant or recite anything?”

She scrunched up her wide nose and shook her head. “Just so long as you’re focused, the powder will do the job on its own.”

“What form will the answer take?”

“It varies, but you’ll know when it happens. Won’t be no doubt.” She looked intently at Rita. “You think you got all that?”

“Yes, Momma Sue. It’s not too hard.”

“Good.” She grinned, showing a mostly full set of yellowed teeth. “Now, you got something for me?”

Rita reached into her purse, withdrew a thick white envelope, and handed it to Momma Sue. “Do you want to count it?” Rita said.

Momma Sue put the envelope under her nose, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nostrils. “No. Smells like it’s all here.”

“Good.” Rita rose from the floor. “We gotta run.” She helped Cassandra up and said, “One more thing. We need a doll.”

“A voodoo doll?” Momma Sue said. “What you want it for?”

“We need it to help convince the new girl to join us. It’ll help us connect with her better.”

Momma Sue looked at Rita for a long moment, her eyes unreadable black marbles. Finally, she reached into a pocket in her skirt and pulled out a little white cloth doll. “I knew you was gonna ask, but before I give you this, you gotta promise to use it for that purpose only. You may not use it to hurt her. This is not Haitian voodoo, Rita Red.”

“I promise, Momma Sue.”

“’Cause if you do, I’m gonna have to punish you. Can’t let you give Momma Sue’s voodoo a bad name.”

“I won’t.” She held out her hand and Momma Sue gave her the doll, which Rita dropped into her purse. “Thanks for everything, Momma Sue. We can let ourselves out.”

“’Course.” She gave the smallest of nods, then looked away, dismissing them with sudden indifference.

Rita and Cassandra left, and when the front door closed behind them, Cassandra said, “That woman gives me the heebie jeebies. She makes me feel like a little kid who needs a spanking.”

“Sshh.” Rita put her finger to her lips and stepped across the wooden walkway.

“You think she can hear us?”

Rita pointed to a lone crow perched on a nearby branch.

“Really?”

“Really, Cass. Keep it to yourself ’till we’re in the car. In fact, wait ’till we’re all the way out to the highway.”

“You think she’s got other animals listenin’ to us?”

“Probably. Maybe even the bugs. Some might’ve crawled in here.” She grabbed the car door handle. “But I got an amulet in the glove box that’ll take care of that. She’s not the only one with magic.”

Chapter 15

Jamie nearly stumbled on another tree root. This is hard, he thought as he ran. No wonder the course record is so slow.

It was Saturday morning, and he and Bryce were far ahead of the pack, huffing up a long hill that ran through a densely wooded area next to West Henderson High. Bryce was running hard. He must be recovered from his stress fracture.

They crested the hill and turned at the marker that funneled them back toward the school and the finish line. Jamie groaned inwardly as he gauged the distance and estimated his reserves. I don’t know if I can keep up. I blew it out on the last hill. Bryce doesn’t seem to be affected, though. The trees thinned and they ran onto open grass. I know he wants us to finish together, but if I hold him back, he might not get the record.

They were less than one hundred yards from the finish when Jamie gasped, “Go on.”

Bryce glanced at him. “No. Push it.” He ran another few strides. “We’re gonna get it.” He caught his breath. “The record.”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t wimp out.”

I’m hurting. I’m going to lose my form. “Go!”

“You go,” Bryce said as he pulled a step ahead.

Jamie pushed with everything he had to make up the gap. I’m holding him back. The finish line was only forty yards away, but it seemed like miles; his body was rebelling, a mutiny of the muscles, and he felt like he was slowing.

Bryce stayed with him, though. Twenty yards to go and their coach stood at the line, glancing at his watch and waving them on. A few others at the finish were shouting for them. Jamie squeezed out his last ounce of energy and they passed the flags together, stumbling to a halt and gasping, hands on hips.

Their coach joined them, shaking one fist in the air and grinning jubilantly. “You got it, boys. New course record. You beat the old one by almost five seconds.”

Bryce nodded and grinned, then slapped Jamie’s hand. “Told you we could.”

Jamie shook his head. “You coulda run faster if you hadn’t held back at the end.”

“I had to. I felt a little twinge in my hamstring...didn’t want to pull it.”

He’s lying, Jamie thought. He’s not favoring it now.

“There’s a fellow I want to introduce you to,” their coach said, gesturing to a man standing nearby. “This is Mark Stillwell, the assistant cross country coach at Western Carolina.”

Wow! Jamie thought. A coach came to see us run?

He was slightly taller than Jamie and trim, with thinning brownish-blond hair and a tanned, youthful face. He shook Jamie and Bryce’s hand and said, “Great race, guys. Your coach has been in touch with us all season, sending us your meet results.” He nodded. “You guys have finished one-two in just about every race, haven’t you?”

“Except for one, when I was hurt,” Bryce said.

Shouldn’t tell him that. Coaches don’t want damaged goods.

“You didn’t look hurt today.” Bryce gave his head a tight shake and the coach continued, “I heard you’ve been running college-level workouts. Gotta be careful about over training.”

“We really wanna win,” Bryce said.

“I like that attitude.” He nodded. “The reason I came over here today is we’re looking for some talent for next year, and I was wondering if you boys would consider Western Carolina as your college.”

Jamie and Bryce both looked at him open-mouthed and he continued, “It’s a great school, beautiful campus, about an hour and a half drive from here, so it’s not too far. Lots of pretty girls. Excellent academics. We’re a Division One program, and we have a very competitive team.”

“What kind of scholarships can you offer?” Bryce said.

“Well, we’ll have to talk about that, but if your grades are good...are they?” He raised his eyebrows and both boys nodded. “Anyway, we can work out a combination athletic-scholastic scholarship. It would end up being about the equivalent of a full ride.”

“Can we come see the school?”

“I was getting to that. Why don’t you come visit us some Saturday when the season’s over? We’ll give you a tour of the campus and let you meet the rest of the team. I know you’ll like it.”

“Sure.” Bryce shook his hand and Jamie did too. “Sounds great, Coach.”

“Excellent.” He smiled and checked his watch. “Well, I gotta get back. We have a meet this afternoon, so I need to get on the road. Call me, okay?”

They waved as he left. Bryce turned to Jamie, grinning broadly, and said, “So, what do you think?”

“Huh.” Jamie ran a hand through his hair. “I’m a little overwhelmed. It’s cool, though. Western Carolina is a good school, I hear.”

They started walking to the team bus, and Bryce said, “It would be awesome if we both went, huh? We could keep running together, and we’d be roommates and stuff. And it’s in Cullowhee, I think. That’s far enough away so that I can get away from my parents.”

“And still come home to see Sally.”

“I’m not worried about that. Have you and Fred talked about what you’re going to do?”

“No.” What are we going to do? Are we going to go to the same school? Then he remembered the doorways. Guess it won’t matter. I can see her anytime, just by using my magic. “Fred and I haven’t talked about it. But I’ll go to visit the school with you, if you want. I think it’ll be great.”

On the bus ride back to their school, Bryce talked on his cell phone to his girlfriend while Jamie looked out of the window, lost in thought. He hadn’t considered what he and Fred would do about college. What if she doesn’t want to go there? If she goes to a different school, can I make a doorway there without someone noticing? Colleges are crowded.

He’d never tried Eddan’s trick of translocating himself without using doorways. How would I explain that, anyway? “Oh, hello, you must be Fred’s roommate. I’m Jamie. I live across the state, but I thought I’d pop in.”

Then his thoughts turned to Rollie. Will I still get to see him, too? He’s my best friend. We’ve been friends forever...what’ll that be like? No Fred or Rollie?

He knew what his parents would say: College is a chance to make new friends and grow as a person.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to grow, just then.

He spent the rest of the bus ride trying to imagine life without Fred and Rollie.

* * *

Jamie pulled into the parking lot of the dance studio and rolled his window down. He had to yell to get Fred’s attention because she was surrounded by parents and little girls, standing outside of the front door and chatting. “Hey Fred, hop in. I’m taking you home today.”

Fred waved goodbye to her students and slid into the passenger seat, her face beaming with excitement. “This is a pleasant surprise,” she said as she closed the door.

“I called your mom and told her I could get here in time.” He guided the car out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

She flung her bag into the back seat. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Well, I really wanted to —”

She wrinkled her nose. “Did you not shower yet?”

“No, I came straight from the meet. There’s something I wanted to —”

“My kids were so cute today.” She clasped her hands to her chest and smiled. “You should have seen them. I found my old reindeer antlers from way back when I danced in my first recital. It’s the same recital these kids are doing. I let them try them on and took pictures of them. I’m putting them on Facebook when I get home.”

Jamie steered the car around a corner and onto the road that led to their subdivision. “That’s great. I can’t wait to see them. But I —”

“And one of the moms took a video. I promised I’d help her put it on YouTube. Can you help me with that?”

He passed the little corner store where his father used to take him to get ice cream sandwiches. “Sure, but first I want —”

She held up one finger. “Before I forget, I need to order some red foam clown noses to go with the antlers. You can do that, right? From the trick shop?”

“Yeah, but Fred, you see —”

“We need to do that soon, because it’s already November and the recital is the third week of December.”

“Isn’t that when the regionals are for the talent search? How are you gonna do both?”

“They’re a week apart. The recital is the Saturday before Christmas, and the contest is the following week.”

He pulled onto their street and slowed down. I really need to talk to her. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“I forgot to tell you. I’m spending the night at Melanie’s.”

“Oh....” He pulled into her driveway. “Well, how about this afternoon? I could get a quick shower and —”

“Melanie and I are going to the movies, soon as I can get ready.”

“Oh.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had time to tell to you.”

“Fred, we had a great meet today,” he said quickly. “Bryce and I set a new course record.”

She reached into the back seat and grabbed her bag. “That’s your first one, isn’t it?”

“A coach from Western Carolina was there.”

She stopped. “A coach? What for?”

“He was scouting me and Bryce. I think they’re going to recruit us. I might get a scholarship.”

Fred looked at him wordlessly, as if she were still sorting out what he was saying, mentally trying to fit the square peg into the round hole. “Western Carolina?” She blinked at him several times and her voice got small. “But that’s far away.”

“It’s an hour-and-a-half away.”

“An hour-and-a-half?”

“Yes, Fred! That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

“Oh.” She looked at the dashboard for a long moment.

“Oh is right.”

“We need to talk.”

He cocked his head before answering. “No kidding. When?”

She looked at him, mouth tight. “Pick me up from Melanie’s on the way to church tomorrow. We’ll talk then.”

“You forgot to say please,” he muttered.

“Okay, please.” She put her hand to her face and shook her head. “We need to talk,” she said, turning away from him. Then she leaned over, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and stepped out of the car, still shaking her head. “We really need to talk.”

“I know! Fred?” She walked up her to her front steps without looking back.

That wasn’t much of a goodbye kiss.

Chapter 16

Rita and Cassandra led Louis out into the parking lot of the Rusty Screw, and the door closed behind them, muffling the racket from the crowd and the jukebox. Rita looked around to make sure no one was nearby while Cassandra leaned against a pickup truck and lit a cigarette. Louis stood, hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, a blue bandana wrapped tightly around his skull. “All right, Louis,” Rita said. “Before I give you this stuff, we need to agree on the price.”

“Well....” Louis looked at his feet for a moment and scuffed one heavy black boot against the asphalt. “I was thinking: I’m short on cash right now, so instead of a flat fee up front, how about you get a percentage of the sale of the bike? Say...five percent.”

“How much do you think you can get for it?”

“About ten or twelve grand, maybe.”

“For a Harley? It’s worth twice that.”

“Yeah, it’s almost brand new. But I gotta sell it quick and on the sly so Sandra can’t pin it on me. I got a buyer lined up already, over in Morgan City.”

“What do you think, Cass?” Rita looked at her tall friend.

Cassandra tilted her head back, blew a long stream of smoke and watched it dissipate into the night. She said, “Ten percent.”

Louis looked at Cassandra hard for a moment, and then turned back to Rita. “Ten percent’s a lot.”

“You want to steal your bike back or not?”

He rubbed his stubbled jaw and stared across the parking lot, past the other rusty trucks and older cars. He looked at Rita. “You sure this is gonna work?”

She held up her hand and raised two fingers. “Witches’ honor.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“No, but this will work. Never fails.”

“All right.” He nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“Hold on.” Rita shook one finger at him. “What’re you doing for an alibi? Sandra’s gonna know it was you, and she’ll sic Deputy Fife on you, sure as sunrise.”

“Got a plan, ma’am.” He grinned. “Goin’ fishin’ at Gulf Shores for a couple days with some friends while my brothers and my cousin pay a little midnight visit to the old house. Cousin Felix’s got a trailer for the bike, so they’ll just roll it on up and...” — he jerked his thumb back over his shoulder — “Adios, motorcycle.”

Rita looked at him for a long moment while Cassandra casually inspected her fingernails. “All right. Just so our names aren’t dragged into this.” Rita pulled a large manila envelope from under her arm. “This is what you’re gonna do.”

Louis stepped closer while Rita reached inside the envelope and withdrew a plastic drinking straw. “Look, close,” she said, touching one end of the straw. “There’s a powder in here — powerful stuff, so be careful — and each end has a little paper plug in it to hold the powder in. There’s a little bit of tape on it for good measure, but you gotta handle this gently or the powder will spill. You need to find a crack somewhere in the house, like an open window, or under a door or something...can you do that?”

“Rita, I used to live there, remember? I know of lots of cracks.”

“Good. When you’re ready, pull out one of the plugs and put your thumb over it.” She paused and said, “Are you getting this? ’Cause you’re gonna have to explain it to your brothers, and they’re not the brightest bulbs in the chandelier.”

“I’ll write it down, soon as we’re done.”

“No, that’s evidence if somebody finds it. Just pay attention.” She touched the straw again. “Take the other plug out and put the straw up to the crack and blow hard on the other end...tell ’em to be careful not to inhale any of it, or they’ll be taking a sudden nap. Probably a good idea to rinse their mouth out afterwards, too, just to be safe. Bring a bottle of water.” She gestured at Louis. “Got it so far?”

He nodded and she continued. “Give the powder about ten minutes to work. Everybody inside the house will be zonked for a few hours, so you’ll have plenty of time.” She scratched her cheek for a moment with a long red fingernail. “Now, explain to me exactly how you’re getting the bike out.”

“Sandra’s keeping it in the shed next to the house, and I heard she let the air out of the tires and drained the gas tank, just in case. So the boys are gonna use a foot pump on the tires and roll it out of there and down the street a bit to where the trailer will be parked.”

Cassandra finally lost interest in her manicure. “Why not just gas it up and drive it off?”

“You ever heard my Harley? It’ll wake the whole neighborhood.”

“That’s a good plan,” Rita said, reaching into the envelope again. “They’ll need this, though, in case anybody drives by or looks out their window.” She pulled out a jade pendant, a twin to the one she wore, attached to a long leather thong.

She held it up and said, “Whoever’s not pushing the bike needs to take this and twirl it real good.”

“What’ll that do?” Louis said.

“It’ll fix it so that anybody driving by or looking out their window won’t really know what they’re seeing. It’ll make ’em kinda stupid and forgetful for a bit.”

“Kinda like your cousin Felix,” Cassandra said, popping her gum for punctuation.

Louis looked skeptical. “What’s to keep my brothers and Felix from getting forgetful, too?”

“I was getting to that.” Rita reached into the envelope again and pulled out three woven bracelets. “Tell them to wear these. They’ve got a counter charm on ’em, so the boys won’t be affected by the pendant. There’s a spare one in here. Don’t lose it.”

“Cool.” Louis took one of the bracelets and held it closer for a better look.

“When are they planning to do this?” Rita said.

“Monday night. I’m going to Gulf Shores tomorrow.”

“Tell one of your brothers to stop by the house so I can go over this with them. And I want the pendant and bracelets back when they’re done. You can bring ’em when you bring our money.” She handed him the envelope. “One more thing.” She waved one hand in front of Louis in a complicated gesture and mumbled a few words. “There.”

“What was that?” Louis’s eyebrows drew down.

“It’s a curse. Bring the money and the pendant and bracelets and I’ll remove it. That is, if you don’t want body parts to start falling off unexpectedly.” She glanced at his crotch.

Louis’s eyes flared wide and he nodded fervently. “I’ll bring everything soon as I sell the bike, I promise.”

“You need to go put that envelope in your trunk before somebody sees it.”

“Yeah. Thanks Rita. And Cassandra.” He waved the envelope at them. “Thanks a lot.”

He walked away, and when he was out of earshot, Cassandra said, “That wasn’t no curse.”

Rita chuckled. “He doesn’t know that.”

* * *

Jamie checked the address on the mailbox before pulling in: 2205. This must be Melanie’s house. He parked in the driveway and texted Fred that he’d arrived. Wonder why she didn’t want me to come to the door?

A minute later, Fred came down the front steps, wearing a black dress and heels and carrying an overnight bag in one hand and her purse in the other. She opened the passenger door and slid in.

“Did you have a good time?” Jamie asked as he put the car in reverse.

Fred only shrugged.

“What did y’all do?”

“Not much.” She looked out of the passenger window as the car backed out of the driveway.

“Was the movie good?”

“It was okay.” She still wouldn’t look at him.

He put the car in drive and bit his lip. She’s mad. “Do you want to talk?” He glanced at her and all she gave was a tiny shrug, barely more than a twitch. He exhaled slowly out of one side of his mouth. Guess I’ll have to wait until she cools off.

She turned on him so suddenly that his foot hit the brake, jerking them to a stop in the middle of the road. Her eyes were angry enough to spark a fire. “How could you?”

“How could I what?”

“I’ve waited almost my whole life for you to love me, and then you go and make plans to leave me behind, to go off to school somewhere just so you can hang out with your buddy, Bryce.”

“But —”

“I feel like a fool, thinking that I was more important than him.” She crossed her arms and looked away.

Jamie shook his head and resumed driving. She’s not being fair. He gritted his teeth and thought about something his father told him once about maintaining a happy relationship — always say “I was wrong, dear,” even when you’re not. I don’t want to say that. But I don’t want to make her madder, either. He cleared his throat. “Fred, nobody’s more important than you.”

“Oh really? You didn’t consult me at all about this Western Carolina thing.”

He turned the car onto the street that led to the church. “I tried to yesterday, but you wouldn’t let me. You were too busy talking about yourself.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? It’s my fault that you made plans that didn’t include me?”

He pulled the car into the church’s parking lot and steered into an open space. “I haven’t made any plans. All I did was talk to a coach, and he approached me...I didn’t contact him. I had no idea he was coming.” He took a deep breath. “And I don’t even know if I want to go there.”

Fred opened her door when the car stopped and said, “Well, I don’t either.” She slammed the door and stomped off, leaving Jamie shaking his head, bewildered.

But I didn’t do anything wrong!

* * *

Jamie became aware of the sky first, a soft, velvety blue of a sky, with delicate puffs of cookie-cutter white clouds drifting by like cotton balls on parade. He was lying on soft grass. I’m in the dream meadow again. He felt a gentle hand on his forehead. “Hey, Fred.” His head was in her lap.

“Hey, yourself.” She smiled.

That’s a good sign. “Are you not mad at me anymore?”

She gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. We’ll see. If you’re a good boy, I’ll forgive you.”

She’s not mad. “I’m always a good boy.” He grinned up at her.

She rubbed her hand through his hair and her lips trembled for a moment before she pressed her mouth into a tight line. “Jamie, I’m really sorry. I was so mean to you yesterday. I was tired and cranky ’cause I didn’t sleep much at Melanie’s house. I know that’s no excuse, but —

“That’s okay. I know —”

“No.” She put a finger on his lips. “I overreacted, and I’m sorry. It’s just...it’s just that I love you so much and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“You’re never going to lose me.”

“I mean, of us being apart. I waited so long for you! I don’t want to...oh, I don’t know what I mean.”

“Fred, we’re not going to be apart. I can visit you anywhere, if we’re careful, even if we go to different schools. But we need to talk about that...where we want to go.” He smiled wistfully. “But if we go to separate schools, I don’t know what we’re gonna tell your roommate when I suddenly appear out of nowhere.”

“We’ll just have to get her to swear the oath, won’t we?” Fred giggled. “But what a perfect way to sneak you into my dorm room!”

“You want to tell another girl about our magic? Melanie and your dorm mate and —”

“Melanie might be my dorm mate. We talked about it last night.”

“Oh.” Didn’t see that coming. “You’re gonna go to the same school?”

“We might. We might go to Western Carolina. Who knows?”

“I don’t know if I am or not. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. My dad wants me to go to UNC at Chapel Hill, but I’m kinda thinking like Bryce now. I want to make my own choice.”

“What’s Western Carolina like?”

“The campus is beautiful. I looked at some pictures on the Internet. I’ll let you know once Bryce and I go visit it.”

“I want to go with you when you visit. I’ll talk to Melanie and see if she wants to go, too. We can ride with you.”

“You don’t think Sally will get jealous?”

“She can come with us.”

“I guess that would work.” He reached up and caressed her cheek. “I’m glad you’re not mad anymore.”

She gave her head a tight shake and exhaled heavily. “Me, too. It’s just that I’m so in love with you and when you told me you might go away to school, I went crazy. All I could think was that I finally had you and then you’d be gone.” She frowned.

“Fred, don’t worry about it. Nothing can keep us apart.”

“I know.” She leaned close and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Because we’ve got magic.”

You can say that again.

Chapter 17

The trees in Jamie’s backyard had lost most of their leaves, and the gray sky threatened rain. Fred hugged herself against the chill November wind.

“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes. “How about now?”

Jamie sat next to her in the gazebo. He leaned forward in his rocking chair and squeezed his eyes shut. “Nope. Not a thing.” He looked at her and shrugged.

“Then let me see if I can tell what you’re thinking instead.” She put both hands on either side of her head and concentrated. “Are you thinking of something?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not getting anything. What were you thinking?”

“The square root of sixteen is four.”

“I’m trying to read your mind and you’re thinking about math? You could at least think of something romantic.”

“I knew you’d think that, so I tried to trip you up so you couldn’t guess.”

She sighed and sat back in her rocker. “It’s no use. We can’t communicate telepathically.”

“We can when we’re asleep, because that’s what we’re really doing in our dream visits. We just can’t when we’re awake.”

“That would be so convenient, though. Better than cell phones.”

“Yeah. No data caps.”

“Funny.” She bit one corner of her lower lip. “Did Eddan know anything about witches being telepathic?”

“Hard to say. I’ve been sorting through his memories, but I can’t find anything.”

“Did he know about the dream talking?” He shrugged again and she frowned at him. “Jamie, you’re no help.”

“Hey, it’s not like his memories are indexed or anything. I can’t go into my brain and enter a keyword in a search box and find what I want.”

“He had to know something else about witches. Didn’t you say there were plenty of them around where he lived?”

“Well, he didn’t hang out with any. He didn’t hang out with anybody, for that matter. But he definitely didn’t know any intimately. He didn’t date any.”

She grinned. “Like you do.”

“Oh.” He blinked a couple of times. “Have you gotten used to the idea that you’re a witch?”

“I guess.” She gave her head a little shake with her eyes closed. “I’ve been called worse.”

“That’s not nice.”

“You know how high school kids are.”

“Everybody likes you, Fred. At least, everybody I know.”

She looked at him but didn’t reply. She pulled her hand out of her coat pocket and reached for his, his warm and sensitive fingers reassuring as they wove together with hers. “Jamie, if I had a spell book, what kind of magic would be in it?”

“Let’s see....” He looked across the yard, his face thoughtful. “Eddan looked through a few, I think. There would probably be charms and hexes and stuff.”

“But...how would I do them?”

“Mostly with potions and powders. Lots of grinding herbs and dried plants and mixing smelly liquids.”

“Kind of like chemistry class.”

Jamie laughed. “Yeah, it is. Good thing you made an A in it, huh?”

“Will I have to wear safety goggles and an ugly apron?” It was her turn to grin.

Jamie laughed again. “You could have your own lab. A witch’s lab!” His face turned thoughtful again. “You know, it just occurred to me. Witches really do a kind of applied chemistry...and Eddan was sort of a research scientist, only he didn’t call it that. He didn’t know that concept.”

“So is that what we’re gonna do when we grow up?” She let go of his hand and poked him in the ribs? Mr. and Mrs. Magic Scientists?” Oh! I shouldn’t have said that. That sounds like we’re married...we’ve never talked about that.

Jamie smiled and shook his head. “If I could make a career out of studying magic, I would...but I don’t think I can. Doubt I can major in it.”

Fred laughed with him. Then he said, “I’m getting cold. Let’s go in and make some hot chocolate.”

“I’ll make it. I need the practice making potions.”

* * *

Rachel brushed a lock of light brown hair out of her face and checked the oven temperature. Three-seventy-five. I can put the chicken in. She heard the front door close and she turned to the doorway and said, “Jamie, is that you?”

“Yes ma’am.” He appeared in the family room and dropped his backpack and athletic bag on the couch. “When’s dinner? I’m starving.”

“One hour. You’ve got time to shower and do some homework.” She put the casserole dish, layered with chicken breasts, cheese and pasta, in the oven. “You got another call from a coach a while ago. He said he was from East Carolina. Do you want to call him back?”

“Not really.” He exhaled hard between compressed lips. “Suppose I should, though. It would be the polite thing to do.”

“You turned down the coach at Fayetteville State, too. Don’t you think you should at least check them out?”

“I do not want to go to school in Fayetteville.”

“So what’s wrong with East Carolina then? It’s pretty close to the beach.”

“Bryce doesn’t want to go there. He already talked to their coach.”

She put one hand on her hip. “So your decision on where to go to college is going to be made by Bryce?”

“No. If you want to know the truth, I don’t care if I run college cross country or not. It would be fun if Bryce does and we could keep running together, ’cause he’s my buddy. But otherwise, I’d rather just be a normal student. I don’t need the scholarship that bad, anyway.”

“Just because we got that money from Eddan doesn’t mean you should turn down a free education, young man. We are not rich, by any stretch of the imagination.”

“I didn’t mean —”

“I know what you meant. You’re getting a little too big for your britches lately. You should be grateful that these coaches are offering you the opportunity to come to their schools.” She shook a mixing spoon at him. “A little humility goes a long way.”

Jamie looked at her with a whimsical expression.

“What?”

He chuckled. “Nothing. It’s just that you sounded like Gramma just then.”

She opened her mouth but no words came out for a moment. “Well...good advice is good advice...you should listen....” She closed her mouth hard for another moment. “Just go take a shower!”

Jamie chuckled and went upstairs.

* * *

Fred’s nostrils stung from the acrid vapors rising from the pot on the front burner of the stove. She gave it quick stir and checked the recipe on the counter beside her. One teaspoon ground Indigo Weed. May substitute bay leaves. Hmm. She opened the spice cabinet again and searched. I know I saw some bay leaves in here. At the very back, hiding behind the marjoram, she found a bottle.

She opened it and frowned. Huh? They’re not ground. Are they supposed to be? When she heard the front door open, she snatched a few leaves out and dropped then in the boiling pot. That’ll have to do. She grabbed the spell recipe that she’d printed from a website called “Magic Spells from Ordinary Kitchen Ingredients” and held it behind her back as her mother entered the kitchen.

Her mother pinched her nose. “Peeyou, what stinks?”

“I’m just doing a little cooking.”

“Cooking what, turpentine sauce?”

“No. Just...something.” It’s now or never. “Mom, I want a car.”

“Save your money if you want one. We can’t afford to buy one right now.”

I need to be more assertive. “You will buy me a car.”

“What?” She cocked her head and scrunched one eye tight.

It’s not working. “Oh...um...please buy me a car.”

“I told you....” She noticed Fred’s hands behind her back. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.” Fred backed away, but her mother caught her.

“Show me.” She grabbed Fred’s arm but Fred held the paper away from her mother as she struggled to grab it. “Give it to me, Fred. I mean it.”

Fred handed her the paper and her mother read, “A modern persuasion spell from ordinary ingredients.” She looked at Fred.” You’re...you’re trying magic! Aren’t you?”

“No...yes.” She squeezed hers eyes shut and said, “I’m sorry. I really wanted to try a spell to see if I could do it, and I thought that getting you to buy me a car was a good way to start.”

Her mother looked at her with her eyes hard, her jaw tight, but then her expression changed and she laughed.

“You’re not mad?”

“Yes, I am, because you’re trying to manipulate me.” She gestured at the pot on the stove. “But it’s just so ridiculous.” She read the list of ingredients. “No wonder it stinks. You could probably peel paint with this recipe.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Fred, honey....” She put her hand on Fred’s shoulder. “Please don’t do that again. I don’t like being manipulated.” She shook one finger at Fred. “And don’t be trying to make magic potions in this house!”

She didn’t say anything about powders.

“I mean any kind of magic.”

“Mom! That’s not fair. That’s like telling a bird she can’t fly.”

Her mother gave her head a quick shake. “What?”

“It’s like...well, it’s not fair, that’s what.”

“You said that. And I’m your mother. I don’t have to be fair. And you’re not a bird.”

“But aren’t you just a little bit curious about what I can do? You know, like persuasion spells and protection spells or whatever?”

“Not really. If I need any magic done, I’ll get Jamie to do it.”

“That’s...that’s sexist!”

“Fred....” She shook both hands in front of her. “You are so stubborn.”

“But all I want to do is —”

“Fred, no magic in this house. None! Do I make myself clear?”

Fred looked at her defiantly for a moment before answering. “Yes ma’am.”

* * *

Rachel tightened her robe and leaned closer to the bathroom mirror. There’s another gray hair! She pinched it tightly, curling it around her index finger. Then she gritted her teeth and yanked. “Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“Honey, you okay?” Carl called from the other room, where he was already in bed.

“No.” She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. I look like a hag, she thought miserably. “Carl, do I look old to you?”

“No. You look as pretty as the day we met.”

“No I don’t.”

“Sure you do. You’re the prettiest mom in Hendersonville.”

“Nice try.” She leaned over the sink again and searched for more gray intruders.

“What brought that on?”

“Jamie said I looked old. Well, actually, he said I sounded like my mother.”

“Big difference between sounding and looking. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with sounding like your mom. She can be a little stern sometimes, but she means well.”

“But she’s a grandmother, Carl. I’m not ready to be a grandmother yet.”

“Unless you know something I don’t know, I don’t think you’re in danger of being one anytime soon.”

She walked out of the bathroom and leaned against the bedroom doorway. “What do you mean?...Oh! No, Fred’s not pregnant yet, I’m sure.”

“Do you think they’re, um, experimenting?”

“I doubt it. Fred’s the friskier one of the two, but Jamie’s a little bit of a prude, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“He gets that from your mom.”

“Hey, she had a baby when she was still in high school, remember? My half-sister, Sophie?”

“I keep forgetting about that. So you think they’re just making out?”

“Every chance they get.”

“Bet that’s driving Larry crazy.”

“Fred takes Jamie down to their basement to ‘watch TV’, or so she says, but Larry can’t stand it and makes excuses to go down there all the time.”

“They can come over here.”

“That’s what I think, too. I’d rather have them home making out on the couch than parking on a dirt road somewhere. That’s asking for trouble. Too many psychos out there looking to hurt young people.”

“Rachel, think about it. If anybody’s safe on a dark road, it’s Jamie and Fred.” She shook her head and he continued, “If somebody were to mess with them, Jamie could blast them into chunk of charcoal.”

“Or Fred could turn them into a toad.”

“Can she do that?”

“I don’t know, and I hope we never find out.”

Chapter 18

“Fred, you been practicing for the show?” Rollie said as Jamie backed the car out of the driveway on the way to school.

“Lots,” she said, flipping the visor down and inspecting her makeup in the mirror. “About four or five times a week. It’s harder for me ’cause I gotta go to the dance studio. Can’t do like you and practice at home in front of a mirror.”

“The mirror doesn’t get my jokes.”

“Neither do we, sometimes,” Jamie said, grinning in the rearview mirror at his friend.

Rollie ignored him and looked at Fred. “How’s the witchin’ comin’?”

“Yesterday I tried to make a persuasion potion I got off the Internet. Big failure. Made my mom mad, too.”

“Probably just a bad spell,” Jamie said. “I imagine there are a lot of would-be witches putting stupid useless stuff up on web sites.”

“Well, this one was stupid and useless. I tried to get my mom to buy me a car, but she just laughed at me.”

“Soon as you get one that works,” Rollie said, “bring it over to my house and use it on my parents. Every time I ask them for a car, I get the same reaction.”

Fred flipped the visor back up. “I need a real spell book. Jamie, can you get me one?”

He steered the car onto the main road that led to school. “I don’t know how to tell a good one from a bad one. You’d probably have to get a real witch to tell you what a good one is.”

“There aren’t a lot of those around for me to ask, in case you haven’t noticed.” She tapped her lower lip with one finger. “How about back on Eddan’s world?”

“Probably plenty back there, but I’m not going there to get one.”

“Why not?”

“The last time I made a doorway there, a crazy wizard showed up a few weeks later in my family room and tried to kill me. A doorway is like a beacon to another sorcerer.”

“I thought you said that making doorways was a lost art.”

“Renn seemed to figure it out somehow. Probably found it in some rare book. But I’d rather not chance it.”

“But how am I ever going to find out what I can do if I don’t have a real spell book?”

“Fake it?”

Fred smacked him on the shoulder and crossed her arms, scowling.

“Fred,” Rollie said, “I don’t get it. Few weeks ago, you were griping about how you didn’t want to be a witch and witches were bad and stuff, and now you’re trying to do magic.”

“I can’t help it,” Fred said. “Now that I know I have some power, or whatever, I want to try it! I mean, really wanna see what I can do. I think about it a lot.”

“That’s the way I was,” Jamie said, waiting for a school bus in front of them to move. “Still am, really. I wanted to scream through the sky and blast the tops off of mountains and stuff. I had all this magic energy, I guess you’d call it, built up inside me, just pushing to come out.”

“That’s it!” Fred said. “That’s how I feel. Some of it’s just curiosity, I’m sure, but it’s more than that.”

Jamie looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Like a colt that’s cooped up in the barn, wanting to race across the pasture?”

“Exactly.”

Rollie caught Jamie’s gaze in the rearview mirror and said, “I think it’s time for Fred to say the oath.”

“What oath?” Fred said.

“The one we made Jamie say way back when.”

“That was silly. We were eight years old then.”

“I agree with Rollie. I think you should say it,” Jamie said.

She smiled. “Only if I get to wear my tiara again.”

Rollie laughed. “And I can wear the crown and cape, if you still got ’em.”

“I have all my dress-up stuff in a trunk somewhere.” She twisted her mouth into a whimsical half-smile. “Do I have to swear not to do ee-ville and stuff?”

“I remember that.” Jamie chuckled. “Ee-ville. That what they called it on the Commander Hawk Show.”

Rollie grinned. “We’ll do the whole nine yards, just like before. Hands on the Bible and everything.”

“Jamie,” Fred said. “I was wondering: does it have to be a Bible? What if you’re Jewish or Muslim or something?”

“I think you could use a Torah or a Koran, too. The Bible acts as an amplifier, sort of...a focuser. Anything you strongly believe in will do the trick, I believe.”

“All right then,” Rollie said firmly. “The three of us, back in the club house, soon as we get home from school.”

* * *

The shadows from the setting sun were stretching across the yard when Jamie, Fred, and Rollie climbed up the ladder to the clubhouse. The structure consisted of two small cube-shaped wooden buildings stacked on top of each other. The bottom floor was partially open, with half walls running all the way around and a ladder that led to a trap door in the top floor. Another ladder, which the kids were on, ran up the left side and was attached to the frame that held the bench swing.

Rollie paused at the top step. “Been awhile since we’ve done this.” He opened the door, brushed a cobweb aside and they crawled into their former playhouse. It was completely walled in and roofed, with windows on three sides. A kid-sized table and chairs served as the furnishings.

“Seems smaller than I remember.” Fred set her bag on the floor and took a seat in a red plastic chair. “It used to seem huge to me.”

Jamie sat in a blue chair and put the Bible on the table. “We were little kids then. Everything seemed huge.”

Rollie looked around with a nostalgic smile. “We had a lot of fun in here, didn’t we? Campin’ out and watchin’ movies on Fred’s little DVD player. Eatin’ your Gramma’s brownies. I miss that.”

Jamie leaned back in his chair. “Life sure was simpler then.”

“It was, until you started bein’ a sorcerer.”

“Well...yeah. Until then.”

Fred tapped the Bible. “So what am I gonna say in this oath?”

Jamie looked at Rollie. “I think you ought to say it, too, Rollie.”

“What for? I don’t have any powers or anything.”

“We didn’t think Fred did either, but she does.”

“My momma didn’t touch bellies with your momma when she was pregnant. Didn’t even know your momma then.”

“We’re not sure that’s how Fred got her power. Could be some magic soaked into her from playing in my yard so much.”

“Yeah, Rollie,” Fred said. “You played over that dead wizard in the yard as much as I did.”

Jamie thought about how Eddan the sorcerer had died in the yard and let his magic and memories soak into the ground for Jamie to absorb later.

Rollie set his jaw for a moment, but said, “Okay, sure. Won’t hurt, right?”

Jamie pulled a sheet of paper from his back pocket and unfolded it. “I wrote this down. This is sorta what I said back then, and I think it’s pretty applicable.” He spread it on the table so that Fred and Rollie could both see it. “You should read it together.”

Fred and Rollie exchanged glances, and Fred said, “You ready?”

They all placed their hands, one atop the other, on the Bible. Rollie nodded and he and Fred read aloud, “I solemnly swear in the eyes of God and my best friends to never use my power for evil or to enrich myself, and to always do my best to help others.”

The familiar tingle surged through Jamie’s arm. Their hands began to glow, a dull amber at first, then blossoming to a brilliant white that flared and went out.

Rollie blinked at his hand. “Wow! That was stronger than the last time.” He looked at Fred and Jamie. “Didn’t it seem like it?”

“It sure did,” Fred said, rubbing her palms together. “The tingle, especially.”

“Maybe it’s because of your power, Fred,” Jamie said.

Rollie pushed his chair back and stood. “Well, now that we got that out of the way, it’s time for a snack.”

“It’s almost dinnertime, buddy.”

“Sorry. Old habit.”

“Hold on.” Fred reached into her backpack and pulled out a resealable plastic bag.

“What’s that?” Rollie asked.

“Cookies.” She pulled one out for each of them. “For old time’s sake. Wait!”

She reached into the bag again and pulled out two plastic gold crowns and a rhinestone-covered child-sized tiara. She handed a crown to each of the boys and set the tiara on top of her red curls, grinning broadly, “Okay. Now I’m ready.”

* * *

“Cassandra, where do you think you’re going?” Rita asked.

“To the Screw,” she said, standing near the front door with her purse in one hand and the car keys in the other. She wore a black leather mini skirt and tall black patent-leather boots. A low-cut red blouse hung loosely on her freckled shoulders. “You’re not dressed yet. Aren’t you coming?”

“Did you forget what night it is?”

She squinted one eye. “Wednesday? No, Thursday. It’s Thursday, isn’t it? Or is it Friday?”

“Don’t be such a blonde, Cass! It’s full moon night.”

She blinked her stupendously fake eyelashes hard, twice. “Oh! The spell! The new witch. Why didn’t you say so?”

“I did, about twenty times. What do you think I cleared the table for?”

“I didn’t notice, if you want to know the truth.” She set the keys and her purse on a chair by the door and joined Rita at the big table, which was completely bare and wiped clean. “I always wondered what this table looked like without all the junk on it.” She rubbed one finger across the smooth surface. “So how does this work?”

“Were you payin’ attention to anything Momma Sue said?”

“Some. That old bag talks too much.” She put a hand to her mouth and said, “Ooh...you don’t think she’s spyin’ on us, do you?”

“I got wards all around the house and the yard. Her proxies can’t hear a thing, if she’s got any around here.”

“Why would she care, anyway?”

“She wants to make sure we don’t misuse the voodoo doll, remember? She guards her reputation pretty fierce.”

“She can guard this.” Cassandra made a rude gesture and Rita smiled and shook her head. “Cass, make sure you don’t do that in public, okay? I can’t put wards everywhere.”

“You’re scared of her, aren’t you?”

Rita pulled the bag containing the special powder out of a box on the nearest shelf and set it on the table. “Damn straight I am. Any witch in her right mind oughta be, but we got no choice. We gotta deal with her if we want to do the tricky spells, especially with Izzy gone.”

“You think she’s stronger than Isabelle was?”

“Not even close. Izzy was a powerful witch, but she wasn’t a voodoo queen.” Rita opened a fresh can of Sterno and placed it in the center of the table. “So if we’re gonna bitch about Momma Sue, let’s make sure we do it someplace safe.”

“We’re supposed to do this around midnight, aren’t we?” Cassandra glanced at the clock on the far shelf. “That’s about fifteen minutes from now.” She scratched under her chin with a long fake nail. “Should I light some candles and put on some music or something?”

“Suit yourself. Don’t think it matters to the spell, though.”

Cassandra went to the shelves next to the television and began flipping through a stack of CDs. “So, what do you think? Probably not party music, right?”

“No, that’s won’t seem right. Don’t we have a New Agey kinda disc in there somewhere? The one we got when we visited Salem a couple years ago?”

“Hah.” Cassandra paused and smiled. “That was a fun trip, wasn’t it? Never seen so many nutjobs in one place in my life. Everybody wore black and dyed their hair purple and stuff.”

“And everybody tried to sell us crystals. I still got a couple somewhere.”

“Too bad there aren’t any real witches there. That would make it easier to find us a new one, huh?” She resumed her search through the CDs. “You think there have ever been any real ones in Salem?”

“Long time ago. A few come through nowadays, I bet. Probably some younger ones...runaways, mostly. But I bet they take one look at that freak show and split.”

Cassandra pulled out a CD, regarded it for a moment, and put it back. “I heard it’s only bad there in late October, when we went, ’cause that’s when all the weirdos and tourists come for the festival. I heard it’s nice most of the rest of the year. Except winter. Too cold.”

“Maybe we should move there, Cass. Once we find our new witch, I mean. We could open a shop and sell real potions and powders.” She chuckled. “Wouldn’t that freak ’em out?”

“I dunno, Rita. I kinda like it here. It’s comfortable.”

“It suits us, I suppose. We got enough friends to keep us in business, and the law can’t touch us.”

“This album’s got sitar on it.” Cassandra pulled out a CD, placed it in the stereo next to her and pressed the play button. Soft, exotic music began to fill the room.

Rita nodded. “That’s good. Perfect for doin’ a spell to.”

“How about some candles now?”

“Gotta be able to see what I’m doing.”

“Just a few, then. Some scented ones. I’ll leave the lamp on next to the table.” Cassandra walked around the room, lighting candles with her cigarette lighter, swaying and twirling to the mysterious music. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for magic, Rita.”

“Me too, Cass. This is different from the usual stuff we do.” She rubbed her palms on her skirt. “I’m getting excited.” She took a deep breath and ran over Momma Sue’s instructions in her mind as she surveyed the table. Everything’s here. There’s not much to it. “I’m ready.”

Cassandra twirled to the table and stopped beside Rita. “Oh...I’m giddy just thinking about it.”

“You’re just dizzy from spinning around.”

Cassandra flapped her hands and shook her head. “No, it’s the magic. It’s building, can’t you feel it? Let’s do this spell.” She grabbed Rita’s hand and Rita felt her mind reach for Cassandra’s, embracing her in their special place between thought and reality that they often shared.

“Okay.” Rita took another deep breath and lit the Sterno with her own lighter. With her free hand, she poured a little of the contents from the cloth bag onto a clean sheet of paper on the table. Neither of them spoke as she grabbed a pinch of the dark powder and sprinkled it over the flame. The candles flickered simultaneously as the lamp dimmed for a moment.

“That’s a good sign.” Rita glanced at Cassandra and picked up another pinch of powder. She sprinkled it onto the flame, and as it burned, a faint groan arose from all around them, as if the house itself were awakening from a long sleep. Rita felt her pulse quicken, her senses sharpen to a razor’s edge. This is powerful stuff.

Cassandra nodded quickly and said in a near whisper, “A little more, Rita.”

Rita reached her fingers into the bag and grabbed a larger pinch of powder. Eyes wide, she carefully dribbled it into the dancing fire from the Sterno.

Every candle went out. The lamp dimmed completely and swelled, twice.

The television clicked on. Both women stared at it, open-mouthed, as it began flicking through channels: the local weather forecast. A basketball game. A home shopping show. A black-and-white movie.

Then it stopped.

It showed a concert hall with a large audience, every seat looked full. The lights were dim for a moment, then a single spot came on and a red-haired girl in a tuxedo jacket and a leotard danced across the stage, all rhinestones and energy and confidence. Rita and Cassandra watched, mesmerized, as the fiery girl twirled and tapped spectacularly. The music shifted and the girl danced on, changing the style of her routine to suit the songs. Her performance was powerful, compelling, and graceful, all at once. Spellbound, Rita scarcely breathed.

“She’s beautiful, Rita,” Cassandra whispered.

Rita could only nod. Momma Sue said we’d know after we did the spell. Rita knew. This was the girl they were looking for. No doubt about it.

The girl finished her act, and the Master of Ceremonies gestured to her as she took repeated bows; the audience thundered their applause. “Grace Mary Callahan,” the Master of Ceremonies said.

“Cass,” Rita said as she nodded, still staring at the television, “I think we just found our new witch.”

Chapter 19

“Mom,” Fred said, “I know it’s kinda short notice, but can Melanie stay with us over Thanksgiving break?”

Lisa turned from the kitchen counter, hands covered in flour. “Honey, that’s this weekend.”

“I know, but she and I just now talked about it. Her mom won’t make her go to her grandparents’ house if she has someone to stay with.”

“Why doesn’t she want to go to see her grandparents?”

“They live in Batesburg, South Carolina. That’s why. It’s small and boring, and her grandparents don’t have Internet access or cable TV.”

“Oh....” She pursed her lips. “So it’s not teenager heaven, then.”

“Does that mean yes?”

“Well...it might not be the best time for her to stay over. This is the weekend when Jamie’s family is going to tell his Aunt Sophie about him being a sorcerer.”

“So?”

“There’s going to be a lot of talk about magic, I believe, and we don’t want Melanie to overhear something that she shouldn’t.”

“We could tell Melanie about the magic, too.” Fred nodded hopefully.

“Uh uh.”

Fred frowned. “When can I tell her, then?”

“I don’t know, but not now.”

“Well, how ’bout if we don’t go over there? She and I can spend the whole time here.”

Lisa cocked her head and gave Fred a narrow-lidded stare.

“Well...how ’bout if we only go over there a little? Or better yet, Jamie comes over here?”

“You gotta promise, Fred.”

Fred raised her hand solemnly. “I promise. Melanie won’t hear a thing.”

“Okay.” Lisa’s face still looked reluctant. “But you have to clean up the house.”

“Yes!” Fred clapped her hands gleefully and ran to get her phone.

* * *

“Dammit!” Rita slammed the phone down on the table and scowled.

“Watch it,” Cassandra said, sitting on the couch with her bare feet propped up on the coffee table, half of her toenails already painted. “You’re gonna break the phone again.”

“Can’t help it. I’m so damn frustrated.” She sat back in the wooden chair and raked the fingers of one hand through her hair. “I’ve called and called, but nobody knows where that auditorium is. We don’t even know which auditorium it is.”

“I guess we shoulda waited ’till the end of the show before we broke out the bottle. They probably said while we were celebrating, and we missed it.”

“We gotta find a recording of that show somewhere. Right now, all we know is that her name is Grace Mary Callahan and that she’s a red-headed tap dancer.”

Cassandra pushed the tip of her tongue out of one corner of her mouth in a look of deep concentration and applied a coat of black nail polish to her little toe. “Maybe somebody can find it on an internet somewhere.”

“The Internet, Cass. It’s not an internet.”

“Whatever. I heard we can get on it at the library.”

“We’re barred from there, remember?”

“Hmph. They’re so picky down there...buncha old prunes.” She leaned back and inspected her work. “How was I to know I couldn’t smoke in there?”

“Geraldine’s got the Internet, I think. I seem to remember her saying her kids are good with it.”

“Kids are good with everything electronic nowadays.”

Rita twirled a red-dyed strand of hair around her index finger. “What say we go pay Geraldine a visit tomorrow? We’ll take her some more of our anti-wrinkle cream.”

“Crap. That means I gotta mix some up.” She wiggled her toes as she scrutinized them.

“Hate to put you out,” Rita said sarcastically. “I know you’re busy doing your manicures and stuff.”

Cassandra put one last touch of polish on a toe. “You should learn how to make the cream.”

“Why? You’re good at it. It’s your specialty.”

“You mean my talent.”

When Rita didn’t respond, Cassandra looked up at her. “Oh, you’re kidding, right?”

Rita chuckled. “Hard to fool you, Cass.”

* * *

“Mom,” Fred called down the hall, “dishes are done. Melanie and I are going over to Jamie’s.”

Lisa leaned her head out of the bathroom doorway, a toothbrush in hand. “Hold on. They might still be doing their Thanksgiving family thing.”

“Jamie just texted me and said it was okay. I want to see Gina before she leaves.”

“Make sure it’s okay with your father.”

“Dad’s already over there. He’s watching football in their basement with Jamie’s dad and Cory.”

“Oh.” Lisa twirled her toothbrush between her thumb and forefinger. “All right. But don’t stay long. Maybe I’ll come too, soon as I finish up.”

Fred and Melanie left. As they crossed the dark street, Melanie said, “Gina’s Jamie’s cousin?”

“Unh huh. I used to idolize her. She’s the reason I started tap dancing. I wanted to be just like her.” They hopped up the front steps of Jamie’s house, and Fred knocked on the door. Jamie opened it right away and gave her a quick kiss.

Jamie led them into the crowded family room. Jamie’s Uncle Ray and Aunt Connie were sitting on the sofa with his grandmother Evelyn and his Aunt Sophie. His mother stood nearby with Gina, who squealed when she saw Fred and ran to her.

Gina squeezed Fred in a fierce hug. “I haven’t seen you since the talent show. You were spectacular!”

“Thanks.” Fred felt her face grow warm when Gina let her go. Fred introduced Melanie to everyone.

“Melanie,” Gina said with a mischievous smile, “Is Fred behaving for you?”

“Yes. She’s...ow!” She winced and put her fingertips to her face. “Something’s in my eye.”

“Let me see.” Gina guided Melanie into the light near the kitchen and tilted Melanie’s head back. Peering closely, Gina said, “Looks like an eyelash. There’s a bathroom down the hall with a good mirror. You should be able to get it out.”

Melanie left and Gina said, “Fred, do you need something to drink?”

Fred shook her head but followed Gina into the kitchen.

Gina opened the refrigerator. “You’re teaching tap dance now, right?”

Fred smiled and said, “Tuesday late afternoon and Saturday mornings. It’s fun. The kids are so adorable.”

She pulled out a can of soda. “And I’m sure they just love you.” She put her hand on Fred’s arm as they stood next to the kitchen doorway and said in a low voice. “So tell me, does Melanie know about your you know what?” She wiggled her fingers, the family’s official sign language for magic.

“I haven’t told her yet. My parents won’t —”

“Haven’t told me what?” Fred heard from behind her.

Fred turned and saw Melanie standing in the doorway. She felt the blood drain from her face and her stomach drop. What did she hear? she thought, certain that her eyes betrayed her panic. What am I gonna say?

“Don’t tell anybody, Melanie,” Gina said smoothly, “but Cory and I are thinking about having a baby.”

Melanie smiled broadly. “A baby? That’s wonderful!”

“But we don’t want everybody to know just yet, ’cause I might not even be able to.”

“I’ve heard that can be awkward. People ask you all the time and stuff.”

Gina nodded. “So we’re just keeping it in the family for now.”

“I won’t tell a soul.”

When Melanie looked away for a moment, Fred caught Gina’s eye and mouthed, “Thank you.”

* * *

Rita was slouched so far down on the couch that she was nearly horizontal, clicking through channels on the television with the remote control. “Thanksgiving night TV sucks, Cass.”

Cassandra was spread out on the other end, bare feet propped on the coffee table. “Shoulda rented a movie.” Cassandra set her beer bottle down on the table next to the dozen empties and stood. She lurched toward the big table behind them, bouncing off the corner of the couch as she went, and pulled a paper towel off of a large microwave dinner tray. “Want some more turkey?”

“Nah. Any pie left?”

Cassandra brought Rita an aluminum pan with the remains of some pumpkin pie. Rita grabbed a chunk of it with her fingers and put it in her mouth.

“Gross, Rita. Use a fork.”

“We’re family.”

“Families use forks.”

“Since when did you get so finicky?”

Cassandra plopped back on the couch with a plate of turkey and dressing. “I don’t know.” She looked at her food but didn’t pick up her fork.

“Somethin’ botherin’ you?”

Cassandra turned to Rita; her eyes were sad. “Look at us, Rita. We’re pitiful.”

“We’re not doin’ so bad.” She waved one hand in a drunken swirl as if she were clearing cobwebs. “We got what we need. Got a roof over our heads and enough to eat. Got plenty of friends, and sometimes men, too.” Cassandra wouldn’t look her in the eye. “We got each other, Cass. That’s important.”

Cassandra stared at her plate. In a low voice she said, “You’re all the family I got, Rita.” She looked up at Rita, her mouth a thin line.

It’s true. She’s all I got, too. “You ever miss your folks?”

“Thanksgiving and Christmas. I know we weren’t the best family, but....” She closed her eyes and massaged her forehead with her fingertips.

“Me too, Cass. My mom tried to make us out like a family on Thanksgiving. It was okay sometimes, if my dad wasn’t too drunk.”

“At least you knew your dad.”

“For awhile, anyway.”

Cassandra’s chin had dropped to her chest, but her eyes were open.

She’s really bummed, Rita thought. “Hey, maybe we should make a road trip and visit your mom’s grave.”

“That sounds like loads of fun,” she said cheerlessly.

I don’t know what to say. Rita stared at her own feet. We are a pretty sorry bunch. It didn’t seem so bad when Izzy was still alive. I don’t remember us ever being low like this. “Izzy wouldn’t a’ put up with us being all mopey like this.”

Cassandra took a long time to respond. “Rita, how are we gonna talk that girl Grace Mary into coming here and living like this?”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s young and beautiful, and she’s probably got a nice family and a boyfriend and everything. How are we gonna talk her into giving that up?” She gestured widely with one arm. “Is she gonna trade all that for this?”

“I hope so... I hope that once she gets to know us, she’ll like us and want to do the blood bond. Then she won’t wanna go back. She’ll know how much we love each other, and she’ll want to be part of that.”

“Sure hope so, Rita. I sure hope so.”

Chapter 20

Jamie was shooting baskets with Rollie under gray skies Saturday afternoon when he heard a car door slam.

“Looks like Bryce is here,” Rollie said, glancing across the street to Jamie’s driveway. “Is he bored, too?”

“Yep. Sally’s still out of town.”

Bryce slipped his keys in his pocket as he approached them. “Hey, Rollie. Thought you had to go to see your grandparents.”

Rollie flipped Bryce a long pass when he reached the edge of the driveway and said, “Just got back. My mom wanted to come home early.”

Bryce launched a long shot that missed completely. “Dang. That was bad.” He grabbed the ball and started to shoot again, but paused when he heard girls’ voices behind them.

“We wanna play.” Jamie turned and saw Fred and Melanie walking from Fred’s house, cutting across the neighbor’s lawn toward them.

This should be funny, Jamie thought as Bryce passed the ball to Melanie when they neared Rollie’s driveway. To Jamie’s surprise, she jumped and shot smoothly. The ball hit the hoop but rimmed out. She shook her head. “One more time.” Rollie threw her a pass and she shot again and swished it. She nodded and said, “Oh yeah. Oh yeah. I’m good.”

Jamie stared at her. Huh? She’s a cheerleader, and she’s got a better shot than I do.

As if reading his mind, Melanie said, “I wasn’t always a cheerleader, you know. I played basketball until my junior year.”

“Let’s play a game,” Fred said.

“We got an odd number,” Rollie said. “We need another player.”

Bryce looked at the sky and held his hand out, palm up. “It’s starting to sprinkle. We oughta go in.”

“Let’s go to my house and watch a movie,” Fred said.

Rollie took another shot. “I need to practice.”

“It’s raining, Rollie.” Fred grabbed the basketball before Rollie could reach it. She held it on her hip. “Besides, you practice too much.”

Melanie nodded. “All work and no play makes Rollie a knucklehead.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” Rollie said.

Bryce shrugged. “I’ll watch a movie.”

Why not? Jamie thought. “Me too.”

Rollie stayed back as the group started walking away toward Fred’s house, but then he took another glance at the threatening sky. “Okay, I’m in. What do you wanna watch?” He hustled to join them. “Not ‘Barbie’s Big Adventure’, I hope.”

“I love that movie,” Melanie said, walking in the lead with Fred.

Bryce held one thumb up and grinned. “I like Barbie. She’s hot.” He looked at Melanie. “Except for the brown eyes, you kinda look like her. Anybody ever tell you that?”

Melanie looked back over her shoulder at him, narrowed her eyes, and said in a near growl, “Only once.”

“Oooh,” Rollie said. “Fred, you’re starting to rub off on her. Now we’re gonna have two of ’em.”

It was Fred’s turn to scowl. “Two what?”

Jamie punched Rollie in the shoulder and said, “He meant to say two lovely, smart, confident and talented young ladies.”

“Is that right, Rollie?” Fred said, her eyes challenging.

“Yep. That’s it exactly. Jamie, you and I been friends so long, you can read my mind.”

Jamie smiled and watched the others walk up Fred’s front steps ahead of him as Fred held the front door open. Bryce was laughing at another one of Rollie’s wisecracks; Rollie grinned back at him. Jamie felt good.

* * *

Cassandra grabbed the volume knob on the car radio and cranked it up. She wiggled both hands in front of her and shimmied her shoulders.

“Feeling good, are we?” Rita said as she drove, tapping her cigarette ashes out of the window.

“You bet. That was very productive.”

Rita smiled and nodded. “Geraldine’s boy sure is good with a computer, isn’t he?”

“Percy is smart, that’s for sure.” Cassandra bobbed her head to the music. “We should get one Rita. And get hooked up to that Internet thingy.”

“For the last time, it’s not...oh, never mind.” She clicked the headlights on. “We were there longer than I thought. It’s almost dark.”

“There’s so much to see on that thing! I could watch it all day. Better than TV. Let’s get one, Rita.”

“First of all, we can’t afford it right now, and second, we can barely work a cell phone. How are we gonna learn to use a computer?”

“We could get Percy to teach us. We could pay him.”

“We need to save our money right now. Don’t know how long it’s going to take to find Grace Mary.”

“Oh, we’ll find her quick, thanks to Percy, We know the name of the auditorium and that it’s in Asheville, North Carolina. We’ll just call ’em tomorrow and they’ll tell us how to find her.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“Okay, Monday, then. They’ll know. Then we’ll head to Asheville, find out where she lives, pick her up, run back down here and,” — she slapped her hands together — “Bang! We’re back in the groove, stronger than ever.”

“I hope it’s that easy.” Rita tapped her fingers on the steering wheel “Just don’t be too disappointed if it takes longer than you think, okay? So when I say let’s be careful with our money, go along with me for once.”

“Rita, you talk like you’re my mom or something.”

Rita glanced over at her friend, dancing in her seat, spilling cigarette ashes all over her clothes, oblivious. I feel like it, sometimes.

* * *

Jamie sat next to Bryce in Bryce’s car and watched Fred and Melanie hop down Fred’s front steps. The girls opened the back doors and got in.

Melanie buckled her seat belt and said, “Jamie, are you sure you don’t want to sit in the back seat with Fred?”

“Uh uh,” Bryce said. “They’ll probably make out the whole way to Cullowhee.”

Bryce backed out of the driveway and Melanie rubbed her hand across the leather seat. “Nice car, Bryce.”

He put the car in drive and steered it down the road. “Yeah, well I didn’t pick it out.”

“Still.” She touched the wooden door trim. “It’s great. Wish I had a rich daddy to buy me a nice car.”

Bryce’s eyes narrowed and his jaw muscles twitched. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I’ll trade you my old clunker for it,” Melanie said, misinterpreting Bryce’s reference. He wasn’t talking about his car, Jamie thought.

Bryce didn’t respond; he stared stonily at the road. Jamie said, “Bryce is just using this until he makes enough to buy his own car.”

Bryce glanced at Jamie and didn’t say anything, but his jaw seemed to loosen a bit.

By this time, they were already on the main road. Fred said, “Bryce, you drive like a little old lady. It’ll be dark by the time we get there.”

Bryce stomped the gas pedal and Jamie felt himself pushed back into his seat.

“That better?” Bryce said.

“Much,” Fred said. “Let’s go see a college!”

* * *

Rachel was stirring a pot on the stove when she heard the front door close. “Jamie, you home?” She looked out of the kitchen doorway.

“Yes ma’am.” He walked into the family room and dropped some colorful Western Carolina University brochures on the table near the kitchen.

“Well?” Rachel said.

Jamie shrugged. “It was good.” He walked past her into the kitchen and pulled the top off the cookie jar.

“Just one, Jamie. Dinner’s almost ready,” she said as he put his hand inside the blue ceramic container. “What did you think of the school?”

“It’s nice. Campus is pretty. Coach was cool. Showed us around.” He took a big bite of his cookie. “Everybody liked it, especially Fred and Melanie.”

“Do you think you want to go there?”

“I might. I still don’t know what I want to major in, so I don’t know where I should go.”

“You can always transfer if you change your mind.”

“True.” He finished the last bite. “Cousin Earl wants me to major in Veterinary Science so I can take over his vet business, but I don’t know if I want to do that.”

“Why not? You’d be great at it.”

“I think so, too, but I hate the idea of having to put animals down for a living.”

“But think of all the animals you could help.”

Jamie shook his head and looked at the floor. “There’s nothing worse than having to help a vet put a dog to sleep. I know it ends their suffering and all that, but I sense those animals’ fears so strongly....” He looked at Rachel. “And I might want to major in Biology or Physics instead. I’m really interested in how magic works, and the more stuff I know, the better my magic gets. I’d love to apply the scientific method to the study of magic.”

“Too bad you can’t major in magic.”

“Yeah.” Jamie chuckled. “I’d get a BM. Bachelors of Magic.”

“Tricky part is making a living with it.”

“Right. Gotta pay the bills somehow.”

Rachel smiled at her curly-haired son. It’s so strange to think about him having a career someday...living on his own...having a family.

“Mom?”

“What?”

“Nothing. You just had a funny look on your face.”

“Oh.” She gave her head a tight shake. “Go find your father and tell him dinner’s ready.”

* * *

“Argh!” Rita hurled the phone across the room and it smashed into the wall, falling to the floor in pieces.

“Damn, Rita.” Cassandra looked up from the couch. “What is the problem?”

“That auditorium...grrr!” She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. “Won’t tell me nothing!”

Cassandra walked over and picked up the shattered pieces of the phone. “It’s not worth losing your temper over.” She gave Rita a concerned look. “You’ve been really edgy lately.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “I called that Thomas Wolfe Auditorium about ten times, and nobody will tell me anything about Grace Mary. The lady I just talked to said to call the production company that filmed the show.”

Cassandra dropped the pieces on the table. “Screw that. Let’s go back to Geraldine’s. Percy’s probably home from school by now, and he can get on that computer and find out what we need to know quicker than all these useless phone calls.”

Rita inhaled slowly through her nostrils. Calm down. “You’re right. Let me get my purse and we’ll go.”

An hour later, they were leaning over Percy’s narrow shoulders, looking intently at his computer monitor. Percy flipped his too-long dirty-blond hair from his pimply forehead with a shake of his head. Empty cans of energy drinks littered the desk.

“There it is,” Percy said, pointing to the screen. “Found it, but it’s not the show that you saw on TV, it’s an older one. ‘Rollie Wilkins, Jamie Sikes, and Grace Mary Callahan, all of North Henderson High, performed a benefit show at Shady Grove Retirement Home on May 21’. Then it goes on to say some other stuff.” He tapped the keyboard a few times and a different screen appeared. “North Henderson is in Hendersonville.” He tapped again. “I can’t find a Facebook page for Grace Mary.”

“Hendersonville.” Rita stood up straight and slapped her hands together. “Not Asheville like we thought.”

“Now all we got to do is call the school, and they’ll give us her address, right?” Cassandra said.

Percy shook his head. “A school won’t give out info like that to just anybody.”

“Then you can find it for us on this thingy.” Cassandra pointed to the computer.”

“I dunno.” He looked over his shoulder at Rita. “I’m not comfortable trying to hack their records. I don’t want to go to jail or nothin’.”

Rita put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Percy. You’ve done enough. We can take it from here. We’ll contact the school on our own.”

“What do you want her for, anyway?”

“We’re going to make her a business offer.”

“Well, you’d better hurry. It’ll be Christmas break soon, and nobody will be in the school office.”

“That’s fine.” Rita caught Cassandra’s gaze and grinned. “We’ve got time.”

* * *

“Beautiful!” Fred clapped enthusiastically for her little dance prodigies. “Just beautiful.” She turned and looked at Mathew’s mom, standing behind her holding a video camera. “Did you get it?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I’ll show you.”

Fred and the leotard-clad kids crowded around her as she held the camera up so they could watch their dance routine on the tiny display.

“This screen is too small,” Mathew’s mom said. “I’ll put it on my Facebook page tonight so everybody can see it better.”

“You hear that, kids?” Fred said. “Tell your parents to check tonight.” She clapped her hands again. “Now, hand in your antlers before you go.”

The kids pulled them off their heads and gave them to Fred, all at once, except for Mathew. He clutched his tightly to his chest. “Mathew, I need that,” Fred said.

Mathew scowled and shook his head.

“Come on, honey,” his mother said. “Give her the antlers.”

He held them tighter, stuck out his lower lip, and drew his eyebrows down so far that his eyes nearly disappeared. “Unh unh.”

Fred knelt beside him. “You’ll get them back. I just need to make sure that we have them for the recital. I may not be able to find a replacement for them if you lose them, because the stores usually run out this close to Christmas.” He still looked reluctant, so Fred said, “You can take them home forever as soon as the recital is over. That’s what I did when I was your age.”

He started to hand them to her, but stopped. “It’ll get mixed up with the others. I want this one.”

“We’ll make sure you get this one back.” She reached for it, and he let her take it. She turned it so that he could see the underside of the band. “We just need to remember that yours has this little white tag on it.” Even though they all do. But he doesn’t know that. “That’s all.”

He looked at the antlers for a long moment, then finally nodded. Fred stood and rubbed his hair. “What a good boy. Now go home and eat some dinner. I’ll see you Saturday morning.”

* * *

Rita watched Cassandra click the phone off and turn in her seat to face her.

“Well?” Rita said, leaning one shoulder against the wall near the big table.

“It was like Percy said. The school won’t give out personal information.”

“Gimme the phone. I’ll take care of it.”

“No, Rita.”

“What do you mean, no? Gimme the damn phone!”

“I mean no, you’re not getting it.” She shook it at Rita. “You might get mad and break it again, and this is the third new one we’ve bought since...since Izzy died. Yeah.” She nodded her head firmly. “That’s about right.”

“I promise I won’t break it.” She held out her hand, but Cassandra didn’t offer it to her.

Instead, she looked at Rita with her eyes narrowed to studious slits, her lower jaw working slowly from side to side. “Something’s up with you, Rita. You’ve been losing your cool way more than you used to.”

Rita sucked in her breath between her teeth before responding. “Just stress, that’s all. Just stress. We got bills to pay, and trying to find a new witch and everything....” She exhaled slowly. “Lotta pressure right now.”

“We’ve been under pressure before.” Cassandra wagged a finger at her. “It’s losing Izzy, isn’t it? It’s messing with your mind now, not having her around to mother us and bond with us and stuff.”

She rubbed one hand across her face. “Maybe. I’m not sleeping good. I seem to worry more now.”

“You need to chill a bit. What say we go down to the Screw tonight and find some men? I’ll mix up a fresh batch of our special love powder. That’ll do the trick, I bet. Getting laid.”

Rita nodded and sighed. “Yeah, Cass.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Some men.” She opened her eyes again and looked at Cassandra. “But after that we’re gotta figure out a plan to get Grace Mary. I think we’re gonna have to make a road trip to Hendersonville.”

“But first, some men.”

“Right. At least one each.”

* * *

Jamie was familiar enough with the sensation to immediately realize that he was in a dream, though the setting was unclear and undefined. He and Fred sat together on a colorless couch in a featureless room.

“Hey, Fred.”

“Hey, yourself.”

He gestured at their surroundings. “Kinda bland, isn’t it?”

“Oh.” She flicked one hand and the walls and floors morphed into a perfect replica of her living room, the couch was her normal deep gold one with extra cushions. “How about that?” He nodded and she said, “I’m a little distracted right now...kinda excited!” She grabbed his arm with both hands. “I think I touched my mom’s dream.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, the images could have been from anybody’s, but it felt like her.”

Jamie blinked and shook his head. “You know that doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Fred blew an exasperated gust of air. “Like I can feel you. I know what you feel like, and I think I know what my mom feels like. It was somebody close, I’m sure. And I’m starting to see a more defined dreamscape now, so it’s not just feel anymore.”

Jamie stared at her blankly.

Fred scrunched her mouth and furrowed her brow. “This is just like when you try to explain your magic to me.”

“Okay.” He waved one hand vaguely. “I’ll try to accept whatever it is...you feel us, and I guess we feel different.”

“Right. But isn’t that exciting? That’s my first brush with somebody’s dream besides yours. Makes me wonder if I can get into anybody’s I want.”

“What if it’s a stranger’s? That could be weird.”

Fred wrinkled her nose. “Or icky. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You should try to talk to your mom in a dream, just to see if you can do it.”

“Okay.” She kissed him. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

“I didn’t mean now.”

“I need to try while I can still find her, if that’s possible.” Jamie frowned, and she stroked his cheek. “Don’t worry, my sweet boy. I’ll be back if I can.”

“Thanks, I guess. Does this mean I can go back to my regularly scheduled dream?”

Fred laughed. “As long as there aren’t any other girls in it.”

“I never dream about other girls.”

“Good. Don’t start now.”

The next thing Jamie knew, his alarm clock was ringing.

Chapter 21

Rita slouched in her stool and rubbed her tired eyes as she watched Cassandra make her way back through the crowd at the unfamiliar bar in Hendersonville. “Any luck?”

Cassandra held up six fingers and grinned as she sat next to her.

“DUI packets?”

Cassandra nodded. “Bartender will probably buy one, too. I bought him a shot. We could sell out ’fore we leave.” She pointed across the room. “And that fellow in the light blue shirt is gonna buy a love potion soon as his buddy gets back from the ATM.”

“Is he hittin’ on the girl with the big boobs?”

“Yep, and I guaranteed results.”

Rita smiled. “You’re doing great, Cass. We’ll probably make enough to pay for our hotel room and all of our tab.”

“I think the little old man who checked us in at the hotel thinks we’re gay. I might flirt with him when we get back, just to mess with his mind.”

Rita yawned. “Speaking of which, we need to go soon. I’m whipped.”

“Aw, come on, Rita. The night is young.” Cassandra snapped her fingers and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Yeah? Well I’m feeling old right now. You forget I drove eleven hours straight to get here. I’m dead, and we gotta get up at a decent time tomorrow and go over to the high school. You can’t sleep ’till noon like you’re used to.”

“Phooey, Rita. You’re a party pooper. Let’s stay a little while longer. We need to wait until Romeo over there buys his love potion from us. Besides, it’s Lady’s Night, remember?”

Rita sighed. “All right, one more round. Then I gotta go to bed.”

* * *

Rita stopped the car at the far edge of the parking lot of North Henderson High School. “Don’t forget your hat, Cass.” Rita reached into the back seat and grabbed hers, wide and made of straw, with a red plaid band.

Cassandra held her hat in her hand and looked at it mournfully. “It’s gonna mess up my ’do.” She patted her bleached blonde beehive.

“You can fix your hair later. Let’s go.” They got out of the car and put their hats on, pulling them down low in front to hide their faces.

Cassandra frowned. “Why do we have to wear them way out here? We’re not even close to the building.”

“Because they might have surveillance cameras in the parking lot. Percy said schools have ’em all over the place now.” Cassandra started to look up and Rita hissed, “Stop! Keep your head down. And get rid of that cigarette.”

Cassandra dropped the smoking butt on the asphalt and grumbled as they made their way to the administration office. When they neared the front door, she said, “You got your pendant?”

Rita opened her hand to reveal the carved jade baby and the thin silver chain that held it. She tucked her head even lower and opened the door. “After you.”

They stepped inside and were nearly swept away by a flood of teenagers rushing past, books and cell phones in hand. Rita and Cassandra bunched close and pushed their way to the office door, where they paused for a moment. “Remember,” Rita whispered, “let me do the talking.” Cassandra nodded and they walked in, Rita lazily twirling the pendant as someone would twirl their keys. There was a waist-high counter running across the front of the room. Two women were behind it; one sat at a desk, typing at a computer, while the other shuffled some paper beside the printer.

The woman by the printer looked over at them and said, “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” Rita said, still twirling the pendant. “We’re from the Southern Talent Agency, and we need Grace Mary Callahan’s address.”

“You mean Fred? What for?”

Fred? Is that her nickname? How odd. “We have a contract proposal we need to send her, and she’s still not sent us her info.”

“Does this have anything to do with the Talent Search?”

“Of course. We want to get her under contract before anybody else discovers her. She’s very talented.”

“Yes she is.”

The woman turned to the lady behind the desk, who said, “We’re not allowed to give out students’ personal information.”

Rita twirled the pendant faster and it started to glow. “Her parents won’t mind. We’ve already talked to them.”

“It’s against school policy to...um...to...what was I saying?” She blinked several times, quickly.

“That it would be okay in this situation. We’re practically family.”

“Yes.” The woman’s eyes glazed over. “Family.”

“So can you give us her address, please?”

“Yes,” she said blankly. She tapped a few keys on the computer and a moment later, a sheet of paper popped out of the printer.

“Is that it?” Rita pointed, and the other woman picked it up and handed it across the counter. “Thank you,” Rita said. “You’ve been most helpful.”

Rita and Cassandra walked out of the door and hurried across the parking lot. “You were awesome, as usual,” Cassandra said.

“Thanks.” Rita tugged the front of her straw hat even lower. “Now let’s go get us a witch.”

* * *

Fred sat curled against Jamie’s side on the couch in his family room, watching television.

“Fred?” Rachel stepped out of the kitchen, phone in hand. “Your mom called and said you need to come home for dinner.”

Fred put her arm around Jamie’s shoulders and squeezed even closer to him. “But I don’t wanna!” she said in a little-girl voice.

Jamie pried himself loose from her grasp and stood, offering his hand to help her up. “I gotta study some more anyway,” he said. “I got my AP Bio final in the morning.”

Fred stood and stretched. “Only three more days of school. I’m so ready for winter break.” Jamie held her hand as they walked to the front door. She kissed him lightly and said, “I’ll try to find you tonight.” She patted his face and smiled. “So look for me in your dreams.”

“Always.” He opened the door and peered out. “It’s dark already. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“It’s chilly. Wanna borrow my coat?”

“No. I’ll hurry.”

“But all you’re wearing is that thin dress. I don’t —”

She patted his face again and looked deep into his eyes, her emerald greens locked on his ice blues. “I’m fine. F - I- N- E. Fine.”

She skipped down his front steps and looked over her shoulder, then she waved and he watched her for a moment before closing the door. As she angled across the street, she saw two women, one of them quite tall, with a blonde beehive hairdo, standing on the sidewalk in front of her house. The shorter one held a sheet of paper in one hand.

“Excuse me,” the shorter one said as Fred approached them. “Could you help us, please? I think we’re lost.” She held something else in her other hand, which she twirled casually.

“Are you looking for somebody’s house?” Fred asked.

“Yes, but we may be on the wrong street. Could you look and see?” She turned the paper toward Fred. “It’s hard to read in the streetlight. You have to look close.”

Fred stepped closer to see, but as she did, she felt two strong arms grab her from behind. “Hey!” Fred said, and a hand pressed a strange-smelling cloth over her nose and mouth.

Then everything became dark.

* * *

Jamie set the last dinner plate on the table, and his mother said from the kitchen, “Jamie, Lisa called again and said to tell Fred to go home right now.”

“She went home an hour ago.”

“What?” Rachel stood in the doorway.

“She’s not home?”

Rachel shook her head. “Maybe she went to Rollie’s. Will you call over there?”

“Rollie’s at church.”

“On a Tuesday night?”

“It’s a special service. Maybe Melanie stopped by and they went to the store or something.”

“Will you call Melanie, please?”

“I’ll text her.” He picked up his cell phone from the coffee table and tapped out a message. A couple of minutes later, he got a response. “She’s not with Melanie.”

“Huh?” Rachel stood there with a dish towel in one hand, a puzzled look on her face. “Lisa said Fred left her phone, so they can’t call her. Do you think she went off with another one of her friends?”

“Doubt it.”

“Could you go over there and look through her contacts on her phone? Maybe you can figure out who to call.”

He slammed the front door behind him and hurried through the cold to Fred’s house. He bounded up her steps and knocked on the door. Lisa opened it immediately.

“You’re not Fred,” she said with a look of disappointment.

“Glad you noticed,” he said as she let him in and closed the door. “Mom told me to come over and look through Fred’s phone so I can figure out where she is.”

“It’s on the end table.” Lisa gestured, and Jamie sat on the edge of the couch and picked up Fred’s phone. “This isn’t like her,” she said with an edge of apprehension in her voice.

Jamie scrolled through the contacts and said, “She probably saw somebody and went to the store with ’em.”

“She wouldn’t do that without telling me.”

Jamie called a number on the phone and held it to his ear. Getting no answer, he tried another. Then another. After about ten minutes of calling, he looked up at Lisa and shrugged. “Nobody’s seen her.”

Lisa glanced at her watch. “Well...she’ll turn up. Why don’t you go home and eat and I’ll have Fred call you when she gets back?” Jamie could tell Lisa was trying to show calm for his sake, but her eyes were showing panic.

“Are you sure? Maybe I can —”

“No,” she said a little too quickly, her voice rising in pitch. “You’ve got school tomorrow.”

Jamie walked across the street to his house, but didn’t feel the cold. Mrs. Callahan’s worried. He walked up his front steps. I’m worried. When he opened the door, his mother called from inside, “Did you find her?”

“Not yet. Her mom sent me home to eat.”

“I’m worried,” Rachel said, standing next to the table.

“Makes three of us.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, we need to have dinner. Get your father out of the basement, please.”

* * *

Jamie barely tasted his food. He tapped his fork on his half-empty plate, ding, ding, ding, and his father reached across the table and grabbed his arm. “Stop. You’re driving me crazy.”

Jamie looked up and said, “Sorry.” He checked his watch again. “Dad, it’s after eight o’clock. Shouldn’t we have heard something by now?”

Carl exchanged glances with Rachel and a telling look passed between them. Carl looked at Jamie. “Maybe she’s doing some secret Christmas shopping.” Jamie could tell from his father’s expression that he was worried, too, but didn’t want Jamie to know it.

“She was going home when she left here,” Jamie said. “I’m sure of it. She isn’t shopping. She didn’t have her purse or her coat.”

The phone rang at Rachel’s elbow, and she picked it up from the table. Jamie and Carl watched her intently. After a short conversation, she clicked it off. “She’s still not home. Carl, could you go over there?”

He scooted his chair back and headed for the door, Jamie was at his heels. “Jamie, don’t you have to study?”

“I can’t focus right now. I’ll feel better once we know where Fred is.”

His father stood in the hall and regarded Jamie for a moment. “All right,” Carl said. “Bring your phone and your jacket.”

“Why?”

“In case we have to search the neighborhood.” Jamie’s mouth formed and oh, and Carl put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “It’s just a precaution. Don’t read too much into it.” Jamie knew his father well enough to tell the difference between what his words said and what his eyes said. Something’s wrong and Dad’s trying to keep me from freaking out.

At Fred’s house, they found Lisa on the front stoop, phone in hand, and Larry backing the car out of the garage. “Anything?” Carl said as they walked up the driveway.

Lisa shook her head, and Larry rolled down his window. Even in the streetlight, Jamie could see that his face was lined with worry. “I’m going to have a look around.” Carl leaned close to Larry’s open window and they whispered something. Jamie ramped up his magic hearing, but too late to hear anything but don’t panic.

Carl stood up straight. “Jamie and I will cover the neighborhood closest to the house,” he said to Larry, “since we’re on foot. Try to check the streets farther out, and keep your phone handy. Call Lisa every quarter hour.”

Larry drove away, and Jamie and his father split up, searching in opposite directions. The temperature had dropped and Jamie shoved his hands into his coat pockets with his phone. Wish I’d worn gloves, he thought as he hurried away, looking left and right for any sign of Fred. Although it was after eight thirty, the neighborhood glowed, brightly lit by festive Christmas lights that suddenly seemed inappropriate. This is getting serious. Where is she?

“Fred?” he called repeatedly, peering behind hedges and under parked cars. He looked around trash cans and chain link fences. He walked until his nose turned numb, and tucked his chin deep into his jacket. When his toes grew numb, too, he thought, This is taking too long. He leapt into the air and flew off, soaring high above the leafless trees. I don’t care if anybody sees me.

The rush of cold air stung his eyes and made the tips of his ears feel like they were burning. Can’t see! He wiped his eyes and flew on, around the closest streets, then in ever-widening circles. His phone rang and he paused in mid-air and fumbled it out of his pocket, nearly dropping it. It was Lisa, checking in. “No ma’am,” he told her. “Nothing.”

He flew higher and paused again, surveying the houses below, and saw that a few of them had turned off their lights. “Fred!” He yelled. He turned and yelled again “Fred!” Where are you?

He flew back to Fred’s house and landed in her driveway to find Carl talking to Fred’s parents on their front porch stoop.

“See anything?” Larry said as Jamie approached them.

Jamie shook his head, his mouth too numb from the cold to speak.

“Carl,” Lisa said, her voice trembling, her face pale. “What is happening? Where is she?”

Carl exhaled heavily. “I’m gonna go down to the station.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost eleven o’clock, and it’s still too soon to file a missing persons report, but I can —”

“Missing persons?” Lisa’s eyes were frantic.

“What?” Larry said. “You think she’s been kidnapped?” Lisa’s legs gave out and she would have fallen if Larry hadn’t grabbed her elbow.

Kidnapped! No! “I’ve got to go back up and find her,” Jamie said, rising from the ground.

Carl grabbed Jamie’s ankle before he could fly away and pulled him back down. “Jamie, stop. Let me handle this. I’m a professional, and you need to get some sleep.”

Jamie settled back on the driveway. “Sleep? How? I couldn’t sleep if I had to.”

“We don’t know that she’s been kidnapped. Go home and try to rest, okay? Don’t you have a final tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but I —”

“No buts, Jamie!” Carl’s voice was firm. “I’ll find Fred. Quit worrying.”

Jamie opened his mouth to object, but changed his mind when he saw the look on his father’s face. “All right, but wake me when you find her.”

* * *

Fred groggily became aware that she was lying on her side, covered by a blanket that smelled of mildew. Her mouth, wrists, and ankles were bound with tape, and she heard the roar of a car motor. Where am I? she thought. What happened? “Mmph!” she said. “Mmph!”

“Rita,” came a voice nearby, “I think she’s awake.”

“Give her some more powder, Cass.”

“What if she’s gotta pee? It’s been almost eight hours.”

“Let her pee, then. Won’t hurt her.”

“It’ll get all over the back seat. You gotta stop.”

“Mmph!” Fred said again. I do have to pee, she realized. Badly.

“Just pull off at the next exit. She can pee by the side of the road. Nobody’ll see us.”

I’m not peeing by the side of the road!

“Damn, Cassandra, let’s just keep going.”

“She could get a bladder infection.”

“Oh, all right.”

Fred felt the car slow down and change directions, then stop. She heard the door open and someone pulled the blanket off of her. The sudden rush of cold fresh air felt wonderful. She raised her head to try to catch a glimpse of the two women, but couldn’t see much because of the darkness.

“How are we going to do this?” Cassandra said, pulling Fred out feet first. “If we cut the tape on her ankles, she might run for it.”

“Lean her back against the car,” Rita said. “She can squat right there. It’s dark enough.”

Fred managed to stand, unsteadily at first, and shook her head firmly, eyeing the tall blonde named Cassandra and the shorter woman with the darker hair, Rita.

“Honey,” Rita said, “if you don’t pee now, you’re gonna have to hold it for another three or four hours. Can you hold it that long?”

Fred shook her head again.

“Lift her dress up,” Cassandra said, “and I’ll help her pull her panties down.”

“Mmph!” Fred grunted and shook her head. This is humiliating.

“Can you get your panties down by yourself?”

Fred nodded and Rita lifted Fred’s dress. Fred leaned back against the car, but paused, giving the two women a hard look.

“I think she don’t want us to watch,” Cassandra said.

They turned their heads, and though Fred’s hands were still bound, she managed to hook her little fingers in her panties. She pulled them down and squatted, leaning back against the car for support. I can’t go! She waited several long moments.

“Hurry up, Grace Mary,” Rita said.

Finally, Fred was able to relax enough to pee. A little splashed on the backs of her calves. Gross! This is so awful. When she finished, she stood and awkwardly wiggled her panties back up. Before she could react, Rita held her open palm up to Fred and blew a powder in her face. The world started spinning.

Then more darkness.

* * *

Jamie woke up on the couch to something poking his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see his father standing over him. “Hmm?” Jamie rubbed his eyes. “Fred?”

“Not yet,” Carl said. “I’m gonna get a little shut-eye and head back to the station.”

“What time is it?”

“Three-thirty. I just got home. Larry’s still out searching, but you need to go to bed. Maybe Fred can contact you in a dream.”

“Unh,” was Jamie’s response as he stumbled to the stairs. He paused at the first step and turned back to his father. “Dad, are we gonna find her?”

“Sure. Don’t worry. I’ve already got some officers checking the Interstate for her.”

“Hope you’re right.” He went up to his room and collapsed on the bed without taking off his clothes.

* * *

Rita leaned her elbow on their big table and rested her head on her hand, watching Cassandra sew on the voodoo doll. “Cass, ain’t you got Fred’s hair in there yet?”

Cassandra wore her reading glasses, her tongue poking out of one corner of her mouth, working intently on her task. “It’s hard, Rita. Never sewn a hair before.” She pushed the needle through the head of the doll and held it up. “There. Done. How do like the red yarn I sewed in there, too? Don’t it kinda look like her, red hair and everything?”

“Yeah,” Rita waved a weary hand. “It’s Grace Mary Junior.” She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and rolled her head around and groaned. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

“I’m all for that.” Cassandra set the doll on the table and grinned. “But we did it, Rita. We got her!”

“Yeah, we pulled it off. Now comes the hard part.”

“Did you feel her? She’s strong, isn’t she? Even without doin’ the blood bond...I felt her real magic really good. She might even be stronger than Izzy.”

“Doubt that.”

“I dunno, she’s got it...she’s a real witch. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it, too.”

Rita shrugged. “I felt it. She’s gonna be a doozy. Soon as we get her to do the blood bond, we’ll be a helluva good triad.”

Cassandra nodded and looked across the room. “Funny, though. Why do you think that lady at the school called her Fred?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Chapter 22

Jamie filled Rollie in on the situation as they rode to school. Rollie’s normally cheerful face looked grim.

“Dude,” Rollie said. “How could this happen? This is Hendersonville, man. This kinda stuff happens to other people...people, like in...New York of L.A. or some place.”

Jamie didn’t answer. His head buzzed from all of the coffee he’d drunk to offset the lack of sleep, and his eyes felt dry and grainy.

Rollie rubbed his face with one hand. “What are we gonna do? We gotta do something.”

“I wanted to skip school and search for her, but my parents wouldn’t let me. They’re trying to keep me from panicking, but it’s too late for that.” He sucked in his breath through his teeth. “I’m gonna go out looking for her again after school if she’s still missing.” Please let her turn up before then.

“I’m going with you.”

“I thought you had basketball practice.”

Rollie gave him a level look. “Dude, this is Fred we’re talkin’ about. Coach can kick me off the team if he wants.”

Jamie knew how much basketball meant to Rollie, how hard he’d worked toward this season. Jamie had to swallow hard to get the lump down in his throat before answering. “Thanks, buddy.”

“We’ll find her,” Rollie said firmly. “I know it. So don’t worry about it.”

* * *

Jamie trudged through the crowded hall toward his locker, not seeing the faces around him until Melanie caught up with him. “Jamie, have you seen Fred?”

He shook his head.

“I’ve been calling her and texting her like crazy, but she won’t answer.”

Jamie walked on without looking at her.

She grabbed his arm to stop him. “Jamie, did you hear me? Where’s Fred?”

“I dunno.” He glanced at her and quickly looked away. Please don’t ask any more about her.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Didn’t she ride to school with you?”

“No.” And that’s the truth.

“Is she sick?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Then why isn’t she at school?”

“Look Melanie, I really don’t know,” he snapped. “Okay?”

He walked away without looking back.

* * *

Fred woke with a pounding headache, a hammer-to-the-back-of-the-skull kind, and her mouth felt like it was lined with toxic dust. It was daylight, and she was lying on her back on a bed.

Where am I? She started to sit up, but when her stomach tried to cartwheel out of her mouth, she lay back down for a moment, taking short, shallow breaths. Uh. Hope I don’t puke. She waited until the room stopped spinning and tried again, raising her head slowly, finally propping up on her elbows to look around.

She was in a sparsely furnished room. Must be somebody’s house. There was only one window. It had white curtains, which were closed, and was set near the far corner of the wall on her right. On her left, the wall opposite the window, was a closet, a plain wooden dresser, a wash stand, and a bedside table was next to her with a small lamp. There was a door on the far wall, closed, with an old-fashioned metal doorknob. A big white ceramic-coated pot that looked like a planter sat on the floor beside the bed; a wide board covered the top. The plain cast iron bed frame had been painted black once, but probably not during Fred’s lifetime. She pushed her legs over the left side of the bed and felt something hard against her ankle and heard the clank of metal.

She looked down and saw a steel fetter cuffed around her ankle, with a heavy chain attached to it, running to the bottom of the left post at the foot of the bed. You gotta be kidding me. She grabbed the chain with her hand and gave it a hard yank, but it held fast. This is like a horror movie. I’m really in trouble.

“Hey,” she called. When she got no answer, she tried again, louder. “Hey! Anybody home?’ The house was silent.

Maybe I can get somebody’s attention out the window. She cautiously stood, shaky at first, right hand on the bed for support, and crept across the wooden floor. She only made it a few steps before the chain at her ankle ran out of slack, leaving her several feet short. She tried to drag the bed toward the window, but it wouldn’t budge. The posts were firmly anchored to the floor with angled straps of metal. Can’t reach the door, either, she realized gravely. It’s even worse than I thought.

She sat on the edge of the bed and scrubbed her face with her hands as her pulse quickened; her breath was ragged. What am I gonna do? What’s gonna happen to me? She dropped her hands and cried, “Jamie! Jamie, help me!”

She fell back on the bed and wept.

* * *

It was midafternoon when Fred heard the door creak open. She sat up warily as the two women who abducted her entered, each holding a cigarette and wearing awkward smiles.

In the light, Fred got a better look at them. They both were older than her parents. The blonde wore a ridiculous leather miniskirt and a staggering amount of makeup. The shorter woman had the fakest-looking red hair Fred had ever seen (with gray roots, Fred noted), was pudgy, and dressed more appropriately for her age, but only just.

“Good morning,” the blonde said cheerily.

It’s afternoon, Fred said to herself, eyeing them wordlessly as she swung her legs to the side of the bed.

“Did you sleep okay?” the other woman said in a cigarette-roughened voice.

Fred glowered at them, flapping her hand in front of her face.

“Does the smoke bother you?” the blonde asked.

Fred continued flapping her hand and scowling. The blonde turned to the red head. “Gimme your smoke.” She took the cigarette from her and disappeared into the hall. A moment later, Fred heard a toilet flush and the woman reappeared.

“Well, Grace Mary,” the other woman said, “I think it’s time to make some introductions. My name is Rita, and this is Cassandra.” The blonde flashed a toothy smile.

“You’re probably wondering why we brought you here,” Cassandra said.

No kidding? What gave you that idea?

“You see, Grace Mary, or is it Fred?” Rita said.

“It’s Fred.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, you see, we have a very good reason for doing that, and we’ll tell you soon as you get to know us a little better.”

“Are you gonna turn me into a prostitute?”

Cassandra laughed and flipped one hand. “Oh no, not unless you want to be one.”

Rita shot Cassandra a sharp glance and continued, “Anyway, we don’t mean you any harm. Honest. It’s just —”

“You’ve got me chained to a bed!” Fred shouted, but winced at the sharp pain in her skull.

“Well, yes, but that’s only temporary. We’ll set you free real soon, just as soon as —”

“I want to go home.”

Rita pressed her mouth into a thin line, and looked at Cassandra, who said, “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, can we get you something?”

“A hacksaw and a cell phone would be nice.”

Cassandra snorted a laugh and put her hand to her face. “That’s a good one. But really...are you hungry or thirsty?”

Fred was ready for a sharp retort, but realized her stomach felt empty and some water might rinse the foul taste from her mouth. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “A glass of water and some toast or something.” I don’t know if I could hold down much more right now. “And I need to use the bathroom.”

Rita pointed to the pot next to Fred’s feet.

“You’re kidding, right?” Fred said.

“No,” Rita said. “If we unchain you to go to the bathroom, you might run off.”

You bet your booties I will. “I’m not peeing in that!” Fred glanced at the pot.

“It’ll be fine. That’s what people used in the old days.”

“This isn’t the old days.”

“Tough,” Rita said curtly, obviously growing annoyed. “Use the pot or wet yourself.”

Cassandra stepped closer. “It’ll be okay, Grace Mary, I mean, Fred. I used to use one at my grandma’s house when I was little. It’s not so bad. I’ll dump it out for you and everything.” She flashed a hopeful smile.

This is getting worse by the minute. Fred eyed the pot, then looked back at the women. “How about toilet paper?”

“Oh, we forgot. I’ll bring you some.”

“And how am I supposed to take a bath?”

“Use this.” Rita pointed to the wash stand.

“No way.”

Rita clenched her jaw for a moment before continuing, “Use it or stink, it’s all the same to me.” She turned and stomped out of the room, leaving Cassandra behind,

Cassandra winced, clenching and unclenching one long-nailed hand. “It’ll be fine, honey. I’ll help you wash your hair. I’ll bring in a big tub. It’ll be fun.”

Oh. Loads of giggles. “And how about clean clothes...and deodorant and stuff? I don’t have anything but this.” She pulled at the hem of her dress.

“Oh, damn.” Cassandra scratched her jaw. “We didn’t think about that. I’ll run to the store and get you some panties and toothpaste and stuff, and...and maybe you can wear some of Izzy’s old dresses.”

“Who’s Izzy/”

“Isabelle. She was our other witch, but she died. That’s why you’re here.” Her hand went to her mouth and her eyes grew wide. “Damn. Shouldn’t a’ said that. Anyway, I’ll run to the store right now. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

How could I? Fred watched the tall woman leave. She stared at the closed door, her heart racing. They’re witches? What do they want with me?

* * *

Rita was sitting at the big table, staring out of the window, smoking and fuming, when Cassandra came out of Fred’s room. “Whooeee!” Cassandra squealed. “She’s a feisty one.”

“A little too feisty, in my opinion.”

“No, she’s got spark. We don’t want a little weenie wall-flower, do we? Besides, Izzy had more pluck than you and me put together, and that worked out fine.”

“We don’t need another Izzy. We just need a good witch.”

“Well, I like her. I think she’s gonna be great.” She picked up her purse from the table and pulled out the car keys.

“Where are you going?”

“I gotta run to the store and get her some things...underwear and stuff.”

“Are you her little errand-girl now?”

Cassandra put one hand on her hip. “No, I’m not. She’s got nothing — no panties, no deodorant, no soap — nothing. Do you want to give her some of yours?”

Rita blew a stream of smoke toward the open window. “No, ’course not.”

“Then quit bitchin’. And try to be nice to her, Rita. You didn’t exactly get off to a good start with her.”

“No.” I really didn’t. I didn’t mean to snap. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Well...do me a favor and don’t go in there while I’m gone. At least not ’till you get more sleep.”

Rita nodded absently, and Cassandra left.

* * *

Carl leaned against a telephone pole, closed his eyes, and let out a long, deep sigh. Man I’m tired. My feet hurt, too. He’d been canvassing their neighborhood since sunup, along with two other officers, trying to find a lead, but so far, he didn’t have much. The only neighbor who had anything to offer was Mrs. Wysoki, the busy-body widow who lived two doors down from Fred. She said she saw a dark, older model car, parked on the street in front of her house the previous night, but she couldn’t tell what color or make it was, and she didn’t remember seeing anybody in it.

That’ll make a good all-points bulletin. Be on the lookout for an old dark car. He rubbed the back of his aching neck and grimaced. Maybe I’d better go down to the station again. I’ll come back to the neighborhood later when everybody’s home from work.

* * *

Jamie pulled the car into his driveway beside the big white Buick, and Rollie said, “Looks like your Gramma’s here. Think she brought brownies?”

“Dang, Rollie. Fred’s missing, and you’re thinking about food?”

“Sorry, Dude. I’m like Pavlov’s dog. I see your Gramma and my stomach growls.” Rollie opened the passenger door with his backpack in hand. “I’m gonna drop my stuff at my house and meet you at Fred’s.”

Jamie was already out of the car and heading across the street, eyes on the Callahan’s house; a car, a black sedan that he didn’t recognize, was parked in their driveway.

He knocked on their front door and waited for a moment, but was surprised when Aunt Connie opened it. “Come in, Jamie,” she said, holding it wide for him. “It’s kind of crazy in here.”

Jamie stepped inside to see a room full of people. His mother sat on the couch with Lisa, her arm over Lisa’s shoulders, talking quietly. Lisa’s eyes were red and puffy, her face pale.

Two serious-looking men in suits were setting up some kind of equipment — a laptop plugged into a black box with wires snaking away from it.

Jamie’s grandmother stepped out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and pulling off an oven mitt. She came to him and put her arms around him, patting his back as she spoke. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. But don’t worry. You’re father and these men are working hard to find her.”

He stepped back from her embrace. “Are you cooking?” Dumb question, he realized as the words came out of his mouth.

“Lisa’s too upset right now. Your mother is, too. Connie and I are going to take care of things for awhile.”

Good ol’ Gramma. “Who are these guys? Don’t they work with my dad?” He gestured at the men with Larry.

“They’re setting up equipment so they can trace the call if the kidnappers get in touch.”

“Kidnappers,” Jamie said blankly.

“It’s an ugly word, isn’t it? But that’s what they think it is — a kidnapping.”

“Where’s Mr. Callahan?”

“He’s driving around, looking for Fred. He’s been out since last night.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s at the station, working the phones, but he’s coming here tonight. He’s going to sleep on their couch.”

“Why?”

“Somebody needs to be here twenty-four hours a day in case the kidnappers call. These other detectives will take turns, but your father wants to stay overnight.”

Jamie looked at the couch and tried to picture his father stretched out on it, fluffing his pillow to try and get comfortable, his back sore in the morning from sleeping poorly. His face lined and tired. And determined.

His grandmother must’ve read his mind because she said, “Your father is working like a madman right now. I don’t think he’s going to rest until Fred’s home, safe and sound.”

“Me either,” Jamie said defiantly. “I’m gonna go look now and Rollie’s gonna help. I’ll search all night if I have to.”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “That’s good, but you need to get your sleep, too.”

“Gramma, no! I need to —”

“Jamie, listen to me. Our best hope of finding Fred right now is if she can get in touch with you in a dream. Then she might be able to tell us where she is.”

“Uh...I hadn’t thought of that.” He grimaced sheepishly. “I’m just...I dunno.” He rubbed one hand over his eyes.

“You’re tired and angry and frustrated. We all are.”

“I’m angry, all right.” He gritted his teeth. “Whoever took Fred...I wanna kill ’em!”

“But you won’t, will you? You’re not that kind of boy.”

“No.” He shook his head slowly and looked at his feet for a moment. “But I can fantasize about it, can’t I?”

She gave him a little smile and said in a low voice. “Of course. I doubt you’re the only one who does.”

Chapter 23

Rita found Cassandra in her bedroom, changing clothes. “Cass, you’re not going out again, are you?”

Cassandra raised her arms and wiggled a deep blue satin blouse over her head, pulling it into place as she spoke. “I’m going up to the Screw.”

“I’m going too.”

“Somebody’s gotta stay here with Fred.”

“Then you do it.”

“I think I should to go. We gotta sell some stuff real bad, ’cause we’re low on cash, and I’m way better at it than you.”

“I can sell.”

Cassandra struggled into a pair of too-tight jeans, wincing as she tugged them up. “Not like me. You should stay here and fix some food for Fred.”

“Oh, I’m the cook now? How come I got appointed caretaker?”

“Aw, Rita, it won’t be so bad. You can watch TV and drink some of that Jack Daniels I just bought for you.”

“Well...thanks for getting that.” She rubbed the side of her nose with one fingertip as she watched Cassandra slip on a pair of brilliant red heels that matched her nail polish. “But what am I gonna feed her?”

“Heat up one of them microwave dinners I bought. You can handle that.”

“Dammit...okay, fine.” She turned and went to the kitchen. She yanked open the freezer door and pulled out a cardboard pack of something with chicken in it — she didn’t look closely — shoved it in the microwave without bothering to read the directions and turned it on. While waiting for it to cook, she lit another cigarette, leaned against the counter and stared blankly at the opposite wall.

We need a better plan than this, she thought. Some kind of schedule for taking turns with her. I’m not staying home every night while Cass goes off to the bar.

She finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in the sink, then pulled the dinner from the microwave. Something smells burnt. Musta overcooked it a little. She pulled the lid back and wrinkled her nose. Uh. It’ll be good enough. She grabbed a plastic fork from the drawer and a folding TV table from beside the pantry and headed for Fred’s room. She picked up the voodoo doll from the big table on her way and dropped it into the pocket of her dress. Might need this.

Fred was lying on the bed, bedside lamp on, hands behind her head, when Rita entered the room. Rita set the little folding table up and said, “Brought you something to eat.”

Fred sat up and frowned. “That stinks. What is it, charcoal?”

“No, it’s chicken something-or-other.” She stepped back and gestured at the smoking dinner. “It’s fine. We eat it all the time.”

Fred eyed the food, picked up the fork and poked through it. “I can’t eat that. It’s burned.” She waved her hand contemptuously and lay back down on the bed.

Rita felt her internal kettle coming to a boil. “Look, you...I worked hard getting your dinner together and —”

“Hard? Gimme a break. You just threw this cheap crap in a microwave and set it on high and forgot about it, and now it’s inedible.”

Rita ground her teeth and fingered the doll in her pocket. “You need to eat.”

“Not that.”

Rita squeezed the doll and pointed at the table with her other hand. “It’s good.”

“You eat it.”

The kettle boiled, the whistle shrieking in Rita’s skull. She pulled the little white doll with the red yarn hair out of her pocket.

“Why do you have a doll?”

Rita wordlessly pulled the straight pin from the doll’s sash and jammed it into its leg.

“Ow!” Fred grabbed the back of her calf. “What was that?”

“Just a little something to help you be more cooperative.” She stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Rita sat down at the big table, the doll still in hand, just as Cassandra was heading for the front door.

“What was that all about, Rita?”

“Nothing. The little bitch refused to eat her food, so I gave her a reminder of who’s the boss.” She held up the doll.

“You didn’t!” Cassandra stared at Rita with her mouth open. “You hurt her, didn’t you?”

“She deserved it.”

“Just ’cause her food sucked? I smelled the smoke in the kitchen. You burned it, didn’t you?”

“A little.” Rita refused to meet her gaze.

“I wouldn’t eat burned food, and neither would you.” Cassandra blew out an exasperated-sounding gust of air. “Damn, Rita. What’s wrong with you? You’re not usually this short-fused.”

Rita shook her head without looking at Cassandra, staring instead at the cluttered bookshelves across the room.

“Well, I gotta go to the Screw and make us some money, but I need you to promise me that you won’t go back in there while I’m gone. Promise me, Rita!”

“Sure, fine, I promise.”

“Good, ’cause if we’re gonna win her over, we need to use honey, not vinegar.”

She turned to face Cassandra. “Yeah. Honey. I got it.”

Cassandra gave her a worried glance before leaving. Rita watched the door close behind her and thought, I need to do better than that. I can control my temper. She drummed her fingers on the table and stared out of the window at the darkness beyond.

* * *

Rachel saw Jamie’s bedroom light was still on, and she eased his door open. He was lying on his bed with an unopened book in his lap, chewing on a fingernail.

She sat on the edge of his bed and stroked his head as he looked up at her. “Still too anxious to sleep?”

He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. “It’s hard, Mom. I’m exhausted and all worked up at the same time...it’s a terrible feeling. But I know I need to sleep so that maybe Fred can contact me in a dream.”

She patted his arm and tried to give him a reassuring smile. “You’ll be able to sleep. And I bet she’ll reach you.”

“She’s never done it from anyplace but right across the street. What if she can’t find me?”

“You two are too close for her not to.”

“Hope you’re right.” He leaned his head back and exhaled heavily. “Is Dad over at the Callahan’s?”

“Yes. I just dropped off his pajamas and toothbrush. Lisa made up the couch for him.”

“Is Gramma still there?”

“No, but she’s going to spend the night here in her old room. She ran home to get her things.” The mother-in-law suite that she’d stayed in for years was still furnished.

“You think Mrs. Callahan is gonna be okay?”

“She’s having a real hard time, but she’s a strong person. She’s holding up for now. Sort of.”

“You’re helping her.”

“As much as I can. I haven’t seen Larry, though. He’s still out searching for Fred.”

He stared at his knees and bit his lip. Then he turned back to Rachel. “Mom, are we gonna find her?” His eyes were glistening and his mouth tight.

Rachel leaned over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Of course. We have an advantage.” She took his face in her hands and looked deeply into his eyes. “We have your father, and we have you.”

“Hope it’s enough.”

“It is. You’ll see.”

* * *

Fred lay in the dark, rubbing the back of her calf. A voodoo doll. How creepy is that? I thought those were just superstitious nonsense, but God, that hurt. Nothing superstitious about that.

She sighed and stared at the ceiling. Well, at least I’m still alive, and they said I’m not going to be a prostitute. Her stomach rumbled fiercely and she thought, But I may starve to death before Jamie finds me.

She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. “Jamie, come get me.”

I’ve got to find him in a dream tonight. I’ve just got to.

* * *

Jamie woke early and stared at his curtain, gray light showing at its edges. Dawn was usually a sign of hope, but not now, because it meant that dream time was over.

She didn’t find me. I don’t even remember what I dreamed about. Hope that doesn’t mean she’s dead.

When he got to school, he walked through the front doors into the main hall to find Melanie and Bryce waiting for him. Melanie’s eyes were red and Bryce’s face was tight.

“Fred?” Bryce said.

Jamie shook his head, and Melanie cried, “So it’s true, then?”

Jamie nodded and she threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder, while Bryce stood next to him, one hand on Jamie’s back, the other on Melanie’s, head bowed. They stayed there as three sad statues until the bell rang.

* * *

When Jamie walked down the hall, kids stopped what they were doing and stared at him as he trudged by. Or they whispered and pointed. He barely saw them as he stared blankly ahead, numb.

During homeroom, he got summoned to the principal’s office. Now what? He got up from his desk, feeling all the eyes in the room on his back as he left.

He knocked on Principal Larkin’s door and he called Jamie in. “Sit down, Jamie.” The tall balding man with glasses gestured at a wooden chair across from his desk.

Jamie took a seat and looked at him glumly. “Am I in trouble?”

“No, no.” He waved one hand. He cleared his throat and said, “I’ve just been informed of Grace Mary’s situation and I want you know that you have all my support right now.”

“Thanks.” Jamie looked at his hands, folded in his lap.

“The NCBI has been here interviewing students. It’s standard procedure, I’m told.”

Great. Now everybody knows. “Can I talk to them?”

“They’ll want to see you. You can use my office.” He glanced at his watch. “Next period, perhaps?”

Jamie nodded and the principal continued. “If there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Jamie nodded and swallowed hard, but didn’t answer.

“You can go back to class now, but if you want to delay taking any tests, we’ll understand. I’m sure it’ll be okay with your teachers.”

“I think I’d rather take my Sociology final, if that’s okay.” Jamie looked at Mr. Larkin. “I want to get it out of the way. It’ll be one less thing to worry about.”

As he stood to leave, Mr. Larkin joined him at the door. He put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Everybody in this school is upset about this. I want you to know that. Grace Mary means a lot to us, and we’re all praying for her safe return.”

Jamie mumbled a thank you and left.

Chapter 24

Fred woke up feeling groggy, the sun already up. She was alone. “Hello?” she called. She waited a few moments and tried again. “Hello? Anybody up?”

She got no answer and decided to relieve herself in the chamber pot. I hate using this thing, but it’s better than nothing. When she pulled her panties down, she found that she had a different pair on. That’s weird. When did that happen? They must’ve changed them while I was asleep, since they had to take the metal cuff off my ankle. Bet they gave me more powder to make sure I didn’t wake up.

They don’t trust me.

She tried to imagine the two women creeping into her bedroom in the dark and blowing powder in her face. I bet Cassandra changed me. Rita would probably make me wear the same underwear for weeks.

She sniffed herself and wrinkled her nose. I could use a bath. How does this work? She found a towel, washcloth, and a bar of soap next to the large bowl on the washstand. A plastic jug of water sat on the bottom shelf. She pulled her dress over her head and filled the bowl with water, then wet the washcloth and cleaned herself as best she could.

She fingered her hair and frowned. Don’t know what to do about this. Don’t see how I can wash it right now.

She decided to worry about it later, and took off her bra, rinsed it in the sink, and hung it over the end of the bed post to dry. Then she slipped her dirty dress back on. Uh. This is starting to smell. Maybe I’ll take Cassandra up on her offer to let me try one of Isabelle’s dresses.

She sat on the edge of the bed, looked around the room, and blew a gust of air, cheeks puffed out. All done. Now what am I gonna do?

* * *

Fred had no idea what time it was, but it seemed like hours since she’d woken up. Her stomach rumbled constantly as she lay on the bed with her hands behind her head, staring at the dingy white ceiling. She’d memorized every bump on it. Every water stain. Every crack. I don’t think those witches are gonna kill me, but I’m gonna die of boredom. Don’t those women ever get up? What if they died and nobody knows I’m here? I could starve to death. Boredom or starvation. Whichever kills me first.

She’d been trying to put her time to good use, planning her escape, but nothing promising came to mind. Can I overpower one of the women and find the key to the ankle cuff in one of their pockets? Then I could jump out of the window and run to a neighbor’s house...no, they might be friends of theirs. I could run to the road and flag down a car. If I can find the road. I have no idea where I am. I haven’t heard any cars. Could be the middle of nowhere.

A noise in the hall made her sit up. Cassandra pushed the door open and entered, carrying a box of powdered doughnuts and a glass of milk. Fred’s stomach growled mightily.

“Good morning,” the tall blonde said. “Sounds like somebody’s hungry.”

“I’m starving,” Fred swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, the chain clanking against the floor.

Cassandra joined her on the bed, handing Fred the glass as she spoke, “I didn’t know if you drank milk or not. We don’t, but I bought some last night when I came home from the Screw.”

“The Screw?” Fred took the glass and drank a big gulp, the cold liquid sending chills of relief up and down her insides.

“The Rusty Screw.” Cassandra popped open the box of doughnuts and offered them to Fred, who pulled one out as Rita continued, “It’s our favorite bar. We go there all the time.”

“Where’s Rita?” Fred said, white crumbs dribbling down her dress.

“Still sleeping. She’s probably gonna be hung over when she wakes up. I think she drank most of the Jack Daniels last night.”

“So she’ll be even more grouchy.”

“Just ’till she takes some of my hangover medicine.” Cassandra pulled a doughnut out, too.

“You mean aspirin.”

“No, it’s a magic powder I make. That’s what I’m good at — cures and stuff. That’s my talent. Do you know what yours is?”

Fred paused with the doughnut at her mouth. “What?”

“Your talent. Every witch has one. We know you’re a witch, so what’s your talent?”

“I’m a —” Fred almost said Dream Fairy, but something made her stop. Maybe I shouldn’t tell them about that. “I’m not sure. I haven’t known I’m a witch for very long.”

“That’s okay. Me and Rita might able to figure it out. We thought that later we could let you try some spells and see what you’re good at. Just little stuff...nothing complicated.”

Spells got Fred’s attention. “You have spell books?”

She flipped her hand and rolled her eyes. “Of course. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know where to get any, and my mom doesn’t want me doing magic.”

“Well, we have plenty, and your mom’s not here, is she? So you can do all the magic you want.”

Oh wow! Her heart beat a little faster and she forgot for a moment that she was a prisoner. I’m gonna do some magic.

Fred grabbed another doughnut from the box. “I see you changed my panties while I was asleep.”

“Couldn’t let you go all week in the old ones, could we?”

“You drugged me again.”

“It’s not exactly a drug. It’s magic powder, but we won’t use it anymore, I promise. Rita thought of a better way. We’ve got a charm bracelet that you can wear while you change clothes. We can take the ankle cuff off for a minute so you can change them yourself.”

“A charm bracelet? You’re kidding.”

“It’s not what you think. It’s just an old bracelet that Rita put a charm on to give it magic...she’s good at that stuff. You can put it on, and you’ll do what we say.”

“Then why don’t you make me wear it all the time?”

Cassandra picked up another doughnut and wiped powder from her lap. “’Cause it makes you kinda stupid and slow, and we need for you to be sharp to work on spells and stuff. You gotta start learnin’ witchcraft, you know. It’s not all that easy.” Cassandra looked at Fred’s bra hanging on the bed. “Did you get cleaned up?”

“I tried. I don’t know what to do about my hair, though.”

“I’ll wash it for you.”

“I don’t think —”

Cassandra grabbed Fred’s arm. “No, it’ll be fun. I already figured it out. I have a big metal tub we can use.” She stood and brushed the crumbs from her hands. “You’ll see. I’ll go get it now.”

She returned a few minutes later with a large aluminum wash tub and two plastic jugs of water; a towel hung over the side. “Oof!” she said as she dropped her load on the floor beside the bed. She pulled out a folded sheet of plastic and held it up. “Old shower curtain.” She spread it on the bed and draped it over the side. “Lay on top of that with your head over the edge of the bed, face up.”

Fred looked at the setup dubiously for a moment before doing as she was told. “You sure about this?”

Cassandra settled the end of the shower curtain inside the tub. “This’ll keep the bed from getting wet, but I need you to push the edges of the plastic up while I pour. You’re gonna make it like a little trough.”

Fred put her hands beside her head as she lay flat and lifted the shower curtain slightly. “Like that?”

“Perfect.” Cassandra poured water from one of the jugs over Fred’s hair, working it in with her free hand. “That’s good. Now keep the plastic up while I put the shampoo in it.”

Fred felt the thick liquid drop on her head, then Cassandra’s strong fingers massaging the shampoo into her scalp. “Fred, you have the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen. I don’t think Rita’s hair was this nice a shade of red in her day.” She worked both hands through Fred’s curls. “She dyes it, you know.”

“Really? How can you tell?”

“If you look real close you can see the —” She paused. “Oh. You’re being sarcastic.” She laughed. “Yep, Rita’s got those gray roots. She keeps dying it and dying it, but the gray comes back, faster and faster. Didn’t used to be so bad before Izzy died.”

“Why?”

“Because then we had a full triad, and our power was stronger. Rita’s been having a tough time without it, and you can see it in her hair color and wrinkles. She’s grumpier, too.” She picked up the water bottle and began rinsing Fred’s hair. “See, that’s what we need you for, another strong witch to complete our triad.”

“How do you know I’m strong? And...and how did you know about me in the first place?”

“We did a scryin’. It’s a spell for searchin’ for people or things.” She chuckled and pressed the water from Fred’s hair. “We tried doin’ our own first, but it was a total disaster, so we had to go see Momma Sue to get a more powerful one.”

“Who?”

“Momma Sue. She’s this voodoo queen who lives near —” Cassandra paused. “Lives not far from here. She scares me, I’m telling you. But we got this good powder from her and used and it and the TV flicked on and bingo! There you were, dancin’ on that big stage!” She wrapped the towel around Fred’s hair. “You can sit up, now.”

Fred did, rubbing her head vigorously with the towel as Cassandra continued, “You are so talented! You looked like some big star up there, dancin’ and smilin’ like you owned it. You owned it!” She sighed and rolled her eyes again. “How did you get so good?”

“I’ve been dancing since I was little.” Just then, Fred thought of her students and a little dark cloud of sadness crossed her soul. She had to close her eyes for a moment until it passed. Their recital is this Saturday. What if I don’t make it? She looked at Cassandra. “What day is it?”

“Thursday, I think.”

I’ve got two days to escape.

Cassandra dragged the tub across the floor to the corner and raised the window, then dumped the dirty water outside. “I bet you have lots of boys chasin’ after you.”

“No.” Fred smiled whimsically. “Just one.”

Cassandra closed the window and set the tub on the floor. “Must be special, then.”

Fred nodded and squeezed her mouth tight.

Cassandra sat on the bed next to Fred. “Tell me about him! Is he cute?”

“Very.”

“What color is his hair?”

“Blond. It’s really curly.”

“Do you rub your fingers through it?”

“Every chance I get.”

“Eyes?”

“Blue.”

“Blue blue, or kinda blue?” Fred gave her a confused look and Cassandra continued, “Blue, like you can’t tell unless you get up close, or blue that you can see from across the room?”

“The latter.”

“Huh?”

“The second one.” God, she’s dumb.

“Oh. What’s he do?”

“He’s a —” She almost said sorcerer, but stopped herself. “He’s a cross country runner.”

“Oh, so he’s an athlete. Must have a good body, huh?”

Fred smiled and blushed.

“I knew it.” Cassandra’s eyes widened. “How long have you been in love?”

“Since before we were born.”

“Are you serious?” Fred nodded and Cassandra said, “Because of your magic, right?”

“No, because our mom’s touched bellies when they were pregnant and something happened.” His magic passed into me, but I’d better not let her know he’s got power. Fred knew that Jamie was her best chance of escaping, and she needed to keep his real nature a secret. Hope I haven’t already said too much.

“Your magic marked him.” Cassandra nodded. “He’s a lucky guy.” She put her hand on Fred’s arm. “Maybe you’ll get to see him again.”

“When?”

“Soon as you do the blood bond. Then we can take this chain off, and he can come here.”

“What makes you think I won’t run away?”

“Honey, once you do the blood bond, you won’t feel like it.”

That’s what you think.

“You don’t believe me, I know, but I’m serious. You do the blood bond with me and Rita, and we become closer than sisters. Forever. This is where you’ll want to be. You won’t be able to bear to be apart from us for long.”

“Why not just make me do it?”

“You gotta do it willingly or it won’t work.”

Fred narrowed her eyes. Good. Then I’m not doing the blood bond. No way. She fingered her wet tangled hair and said, “I don’t have a brush.”

“I think one of Izzy’s old ones is in the bathroom.” She strode toward the open door and returned a few seconds later with a black hair brush, which she handed to Fred.

Fred eyed it suspiciously, picking old hairs from the bristles. Gross. A used brush. “Are you sure she didn’t have head lice?”

Cassandra laughed. “It’s safe. Izzy was a clean person, and we don’t have any bugs here. Not a one. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen any. Do you use an exterminator?”

“No, it’s magic. Izzy charmed the whole house, top to bottom, and no bugs or critters can cross her ward lines. We don’t have ants or roaches or termites or anything. We can even leave the window open in the summer and mosquitos won’t come in, which is something, ’cause we live near the lake and there’s lots of ’em.”

“A lake?” Fred said innocently. “Which one?”

“It’s lake B —” She stopped and narrowed her eyes. “You don’t need to know that.” There was an awkward pause before Cassandra cleared her throat and stood, picking up the empty doughnut box and the wet towel. “Well, I gotta go do some stuff now. I’ll be back later, and we’ll try some magic. I’ll bring a couple of Izzy’s dresses for you to try on, too.”

“Cassandra, do you have a TV or radio or something I could use? I get pretty bored in here.”

Cassandra fingered her earlobe. “Well...I think we have an old CD boom box out in the garage that some workmen left here a while back. It’s got paint splattered on it and the radio’s busted, but I think the CD player still works. I’ll bring it later. You can borrow Izzy’s old CDs ’cause we don’t use ’em, but they’re mostly classical and a few Cajun ones.”

“Okay. Anything.” Fred watched her go. Music would be good. That’ll help pass the time.

And magic. I finally get to do some magic. I can’t wait to tell Jamie! Then she felt a lump rise in her throat when she realized she couldn’t.

* * *

Jamie plodded numbly down the hall to his fourth period class and Bryce and Melanie caught up with him, one at each of his shoulders. Their faces wore determined looks as they walked with him.

Bryce spoke first. “We want to help. We already talked to the NCBI, but we want to do more.”

“We want to search for Fred, too,” Melanie said. “What can we do?”

They stopped and Jamie regarded his two friends. “Well...” He rubbed the side of his face. “If Fred’s not back by tomorrow morning, we’re gonna put up fliers with her picture on it.”

“Where are you putting them?” Bryce said.

“Well put them everywhere!” Melanie said, squeezing her hands to her chest and bouncing as she spoke. “Every telephone pole in town! I can bring help. I bet I can get most of the cheerleaders to come.”

Bryce nodded. “I’ll let the cross country team know. I’m sure they’ll wanna come, too.”

Melanie grabbed Jamie’s arm. “I’ll spread the word. You’ll have more volunteers than you’ll know what to do with.”

Bryce patted Jamie’s shoulder. “We’ll blanket this town in fliers.”

“A couple of geeks in my Calculus class offered to check chat rooms and blogs and stuff,” Melanie said, “in case anybody’s mentioned Fred online somewhere.”

“Huh.” Jamie furrowed his brow. “Hadn’t thought of that.”

“I’ll brainstorm with some of my friends tonight,” Bryce said. “We might think of some other ways we can search.”

“We’re gonna get Fred back.” Melanie’s eyes were earnest. “You’ll see.”

“So when do we do the fliers?” Bryce said.

Jamie took a deep breath and said, “Tomorrow’s Friday, and it’s only a half day of school. We’re meeting at the police station parking lot right after lunch. My dad will tell us what to do then.”

“We’ll be there.”

Chapter 25

Fred sat on the edge of the bed, pressing the forward button and skipping through the CD’s tracks on the battered boom box she’d placed on the bedside table. So this is Cajun music. Kinda raw sounding. She eyed the stack of dusty classical CDs next to her. Well, it’s better than nothing. She paused when she reached a raucous, driving song, tapping her foot to the beat. That’s not so bad.

She turned when she heard the bedroom door creak open. Rita backed in carrying one end of a dark wooden coffee table. Cassandra followed, carrying the other. “Ready to try some magic?” Rita said as they set their load down beside the bed. “I’ll be back in a sec.” She walked to the open door.

“What’s that for?” Fred said.

“We gotta have something to work on,” Cassandra said, crossing her legs and settling herself on the floor on the far side of the low table. She patted it and said, “Sit down here with us. Sorry we don’t have a card table, but we’re used to working on this little thing.” She rubbed her finger across the top and made a face. “You can tell by all the stains.”

Rita returned carrying a medium-sized cardboard box; a roll of paper towels poked out of the top. “This is all the stuff we’ll use today.” She put it on the floor next to Cassandra and said, “Fred, you’re gonna try to make healing powder ’cause it’s not too hard. There are some other easy ones we could try, too, but we have to do those during a full moon, and that’s not for a while.”

“I always wondered about that.” Fred sat on the floor and folded her legs underneath her. “You always hear about the full moon being important, but why is it?”

“’Cause it has to be full, that’s why.” Cassandra nodded.

“But why?”

Cassandra snapped her gum and looked at Rita, who only shrugged. Cassandra said, “I never thought to ask.”

Fred pursed her lips. “I bet it has something to do with the gravitational pull.” Both women blinked at her vacantly. “You know, the moon’s gravity is strongest at full moon and new moon?” They don’t know what I’m talking about. “Have you ever tried a spell during the new moon that’s supposed to be done during a full moon?”

Cassandra arched an eyebrow. “Why would we do that?”

“To see if it works, of course.” She looked from Cassandra to Rita and got the same uncomprehending look. “That way you could do the spells twice as often.”

“Ohhhhh,” Rita said. “I get it.”

Cassandra looked at Fred proudly. “You are so smart.” She elbowed Rita and gestured toward Fred. “See? Didn’t I tell you? She’s a good one, Rita.”

Fred had to fight the impulse to roll her eyes. God help me. I’m being held prisoner by airheads. Fred took a deep breath and rubbed her hands together. “All right, how does this work?”

Rita began pulling clear plastic bags filled with dried leaves and a couple of jars from the box and set them on the table. She also pulled out a leather bound book and handed it to Fred. “Look where the book mark is. There’s a spell there called the Integro Spell. Read it over while we set everything up.”

Fred opened the book and scanned the page. Some of the ingredients looked familiar but a couple gave her pause. She read aloud. “Bat’s eye? Salamander tongue? Where do you get this stuff?”

“We grow a lot of our herbs, but stuff like that we can get in —” Rita stopped and gave her head a tight shake. “Big Dan makes a run up there...to this town... about every ten days or so and picks up what we need. He also takes some of our potions and things and sells ’em to a little shop for us.”

Why won’t she say the name of the town? “Is that how you make you money? You don’t seem to have jobs.”

Rita gave a little shrug. “We’re witches. That’s our job. Some people are lawyers, and some scrub toilets for a living. We do magic.”

Cassandra slapped Rita on the arm, grinning. “It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.” Then they both guffawed as she’d said something riotously funny. Fred ground her teeth and tried to keep the irritation from showing on her face. Rita might stick the pin in that doll again if I make her mad. She stole a quick glance at Rita’s dress pocket, looking for the tell-tale-bulge where the doll might be.

Cassandra pulled a mortar and pestle from the cardboard box and handed them to Fred, and then she put a white ceramic bowl next to the bags and jars. “Now,” Cassandra said, “this is my kind of magic, so I’ll lead you through it.” She held up one long-nailed finger and shook it gently. “Before we start, I need you to get in the right frame of mind.”

Cassandra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Do this. You gotta clear your mind and relax.”

That sounds like Jamie. Fred remembered him often saying that about his magic.

The tall blonde continued, “Anybody can mix this stuff together, but only a true witch can make it work.”

Rita nodded. “You’re gonna activate the ingredients with your power.”

Cassandra shot Rita a sharp glance. “Who’s doin’ this lesson, me or you?”

Rita frowned. “Just tryin’ to help.”

Cassandra looked back at Fred and popped her gum sharply. “Anyway, you’re gonna clear your mind and kinda push yourself,” —she gestured with both hands at her body — “you’re inner self, into the process.”

“What?’ Fred said.

“It’s hard to explain, but that’s what you do.” She handed her a bag with “Dried Acorn” scrawled on it in black marker. “Start off by smelling this.”

Fred took the bag, opened it, and held it cautiously to her face.

“Now take a deep breath through your nose,” Cassandra said, “but try not to think about anything. Just pull the aroma down in your lungs.”

Fred did as she was told, and an image of a mighty oak tree filled her mind as the bitter smell of acorns tickled the insides of her nostrils. She pulled the bag away from her face and said, “Okay, now what?”

“Put your hand in there and get a feel of it, too.”

Fred closed her eyes, stuck her fingers inside the bag and rubbed some its contents in between her fingers. Again, the tree came to mind, unbidden. Cool, she thought. I can feel it. Really feel it. She looked at Cassandra and put the bag down as Rita handed her a broken-off piece of a plant. “That looks like aloe,” Fred said.

“It is.” Cassandra nodded. “Just smell it and feel it.”

Fred did, and continued the process with every item from the box.

“I think you’re ready to try it.” Cassandra pointed to the book. “Now, read the recipe again and put the first ingredient in the mortar and grind it.

“Anemone flower,” Fred said, looking at the book. “Where’s that?”

Cassandra handed her the bag and Fred read again, “Four good pinches.” She measured out the amount with her fingers, looked at Cassandra and said, “Like that?” Cassandra nodded and Fred dropped it in the mortar.

“Gonna take her two weeks to make it at this rate,” Rita said.

“It’s her first time,” Cassandra said. “Give her a break.” Fred dropped in the other three pinches and Cassandra handed Fred the pestle. “Now grind it up real good, but put your mind in it while you do it. Don’t be thinking about your boyfriend or nothin’ while you’re doin’ it.”

“Or you nails, like Cassandra,” Rita said.

Cassandra gave Rita a dirty look but turned back to watch Fred as she ground the dried flowers. Fred concentrated as she pressed the dark green ceramic pestle into the bowl of the mortar, feeling every motion, inhaling the fragrance released from the little bits of petals.

“You’re doing good, Fred.” Cassandra smiled reassuringly. “Dump that in the white bowl there and read the recipe again.”

Fred did and said, “A half teaspoon of juniper leaves.”

Cassandra handed Fred one of the small jars and a set of plastic measuring spoons. Fred held up the spoons and grinned. “No licking the batter until it’s done!”

Cassandra and Rita laughed and Fred measured out the brown, brittle flakes and ground them as she’d done before. I feel something. The clearer she made her mind, the stronger the feeling. I wonder if this is what happens with Jamie. Wish he could see me now. The feeling vanished and she had to start over.

“Stay focused,” Rita said. “Finish the spell, Fred.”

Fred gave her head a quick shake to clear it and looked back at the book. She measured and ground out each of the other ingredients, mixing them as she went, and as she worked, she felt her confidence grow, and a sense of...connection. It’s like there are little strands of me passing through the ingredients. The strands glowed in her mind like threads dipped in phosphorescent powder.

The women watched quietly while Fred worked, with only the occasional nod and a few pops of Cassandra’s gum to remind Fred that they weren’t wax statues. I’m doing it, Fred thought, exhilarated. I’m doing magic. The magic is within me and...around me. I don’t call it up — it’s always there, she realized. It always has been, I just didn’t see it. She sensed larger connections with the world around her, through her and into the floor and walls, out into the sky and down into the heart of the Earth. I get it. We’re all part of the world, the...everything...and I’m just manipulating a piece of it. She stopped momentarily, savoring the thrilling experience, eyes closed.

Before she knew it, she was blinking at a ceramic bowl full of finely ground powder.

“Give it a good stir, and you’re done, Fred,” Cassandra said.

“Oh.” Fred looked at the two witches. “Good. Now what?”

“We test it.” Before Fred could react, Cassandra reached over the table and dug one long sharp nail into the soft flesh of Fred’s calf, scraping a deep gouge.

“Ow!” Fred yelped. “What was that for?” She looked at her leg in shock as blood welled in the wound. “That hurt!”

Rita handed her a paper towel. “Quick. Blot it.”

“Huh? Okay.” She pressed it into her leg.

Cassandra gestured at the bowl. “Now take the paper towel off and put a pinch of the powder on the scrape real quick.”

Fred did, grabbing some of the gray mixture from the bowl and sprinkling it over the wound, which was beginning to bleed again. She held her breath as she watched to see what would happen. Within seconds, the pain subsided. Fred gave a quick smile and a nod. “It quit hurting.”

“Good,” Cassandra said. “Keep watching.

Fred observed in wonder as the bleeding stopped and a light scab formed. Moments later, it began to heal, right before her eyes. It’s like time lapse photography. It’s all sped up. Less than two minutes later, new pink skin had completely covered the wound. “Hah!” Fred looked up at the women and then back at her leg. “It worked! It did, didn’t it?”

“It sure did,” Cassandra said, reaching for the bowl. She pulled a large jar of petroleum jelly from the box, took off the lid and dumped the powder in it, and began stirring it with a Popsicle stick.

“Why are you doing that?” Fred asked.

“I like to mix it in this stuff ’cause it’s easy to apply that way.” She finished and held up the jar, beaming. “We can sell this tonight at the Screw. Good job, Fred.”

“Sell it? Really? How much for?”

“I’ll probably split this in half and put it in a couple of nice little jars.” Cassandra looked at Rita. “What do you think? Forty bucks each?”

“Forty-five,” Rita answered. “That’s good stuff. Did you see how fast it worked?” She clapped her hands and started putting the ingredients back in the box. “Maybe fifty. People will pay big bucks for a quality healing potion.”

“I made a healing potion,” Fred said, a little surprised at herself.

“Yes you did,” Cassandra said, helping Rita pack up.

“Can I make something else?”

They put the box on top of the table and Rita picked up one end while Cassandra picked up the other. Rita said, “Tomorrow. You can try making DUI powder.” They walked toward the door. “We can sell it at the Screw. It’s usually packed on Friday night.”

“What’s it do?”

“Makes it so you’re not DUI anymore.” Rita chuckled and let go of the table with one hand, closing the door behind them as they left.

And Fred was alone again, staring at the wall. I did it! I did real magic. She was so excited, she wanted to leap from the bed and dance for joy around the room. But as soon as she moved her left leg, the clanking of the chain reminded her of her imprisonment.

Oh well, she thought soberly, eyeing the metal cuff around her ankle. Back down to Earth, Fred.

Chapter 26

Carl woke with a start when his elbow slipped off the edge of the desk. Dang, fell asleep with my head in my hand again. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, one shoulder popping audibly as he pushed his hands toward the ceiling. The Callahan’s couch is killing my back. I’d love to sleep in my own bed tonight.

But he wouldn’t. Someone had to be at Larry and Lisa’s to mind the equipment in case the kidnappers called. If they don’t call soon, we’re gonna have to assume the worst.

He glanced at his watch. Almost time for the NCBI’s search to start. I think I’ll see if they’ll let me help. An image of someone uncovering a body in a ravine filled his mind. I couldn’t bear it. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Not Fred. Got to find her.

He scanned the list of phone numbers on the desk beside him. Maybe I’ll call the highway patrol again. See if they’ve got anything yet.

* * *

I’m starving, Fred thought as she paced back and forth next to her bed, the chain clanking behind her like a metal tail. It’s way past dark, and all I’ve had to eat all day was those doughnuts. Her stomach growled painfully as a reminder. She stopped pacing when she heard footsteps in the hall.

Cassandra entered carrying the folding TV table and a microwave dinner, a cigarette dangling from her viciously red lips. “Hungry?” she asked.

“Starved,” Fred said and sat on the edge of the bed, waving her hand in front of her face.

Cassandra set the table up beside Fred and put the dinner on it, walked to the window and opened it. She flicked the cigarette out of the window as Fred peeled back the cardboard cover and said. “Well, this looks edible.”

“It’s stew. I eat it all the time.” Cassandra closed the window.

Fred looked up. “Anything to drink? I’m parched.”

“I got something.” Cassandra vanished into the hall and reappeared moments later with two large plastic bottles of water. “I got a bunch of these at the store today. Thought I’d leave some in here so you can have something to drink anytime you want, or wash up or brush your teeth or anything.”

“I still don’t have a toothbrush.”

Cassandra snapped her fingers. “Damn! Knew I was forgetting something.” She left again and returned with a small paper bag which she set on the washstand. “There’s a toothbrush and some toothpaste. A couple razors, too.” She exhaled heavily. “I need a break.” She plopped down next to Fred. “Sorry it took so long to get your food, but I’m on a different schedule from you, I think. I’m on witch’s hours. You’re probably still on high school hours.”

Fred swallowed a bite of stew. “Early to bed and early to rise.”

“I guess you have a family routine and everything, huh?”

Fred shrugged and took another bite.

“So, do you have a mom and dad and sisters and brothers and stuff?”

“Just my mom and dad. No siblings.” Fred opened the jug of water and raised it to her mouth.

“What?”

“No brothers and sisters.”

Cassandra’s expression grew wistful. “Never had much of a family life. What’s it like? Is it nice?”

Fred swallowed a gulp of water and replaced the cap on the jug. “I guess. I’m used to it. You didn’t have a family?”

“Never knew my dad, and my older brother ran away when I was six. It was just me and my mom, and she was hardly ever home. She was either working or off with one of her boyfriends. I dropped out of school when I was fifteen and ran away.”

“You’re kidding. How’d you survive?”

“Turning tricks, mostly.”

It was Fred’s turn to stare blankly.

“I was a prostitute.” She chuckled. “At least ’till I met Mike, my boyfriend. Then I started dealing drugs with him.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t end up in jail.”

“Or dead, like Mike.”

“Oh.” Fred put her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Cassandra gave a little shrug and looked at the far wall. “It’s okay. I was long gone by the time he died. He OD’ed, I heard.”

“What?”

“Overdosed.” She pantomimed injecting a syringe in her arm.

“Oh my God! That’s awful.”

“I’d probably be in the same boat if Isabelle and Rita hadn’t rescued me. That’s how I ended up here. You see, Izzy started this witches’ triad, and she found Rita first. Then they did a scryin’ and found me, and they came to Mobile and dragged me off, kinda like we did to you.”

“Did they chain you to a bed?” Fred raised her foot and rattled the chain at her ankle.

“No. They were living in a different place then. They locked me in a room for a few days ’till I calmed down. It didn’t help that I was having serious withdrawal symptoms from not getting’ my fix.” She shuddered. “Boy, that was hard. But Izzy and Rita got me through it and talked me into doin’ the blood bond, and I been here ever since.” She put her hand on Fred’s shoulder. “Which is what you’ll end up doin’, I’m sure. Trust me. I know ’cause I been through it.”

Cassandra picked at the sleeve on Fred’s dress and furrowed her brow. “You know, I think it’s time to get you into a change of clothes.” She stood and walked toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

When she returned, she had some dresses draped over one arm and a pale blue nightshirt in the other, which she held up for Fred to see. “Thought you might want something to sleep in.” She hung it on a hook on the wall by the nightstand, then handed Fred a faded black shift. “Try that.”

Fred stood and held it up to her body. “I think it’ll fit. Was Izzy my size?”

“Used to be.” She showed Fred the other outfit, a gray peasant dress. “She gained a bunch of weight right before she died. Probably from drinkin’ so much.”

“This looks okay,” Fred said, holding the dress at arms’ length as she inspected it. “I wouldn’t want to go on a date in it or anything.”

Cassandra snorted a laugh and laid the two dresses on the end of the bed. “Me either. I like to dress up when I go out.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“A few.” She batted her fake eyelashes and laughed. “I like to keep ’em guessin’ as to whether or not they are.” She surveyed the room. “So you’re good here. Got your dinner and some music and clean clothes.”

“Cassandra.” Fred put her plastic fork down. “I get really hungry in the morning. Is there something you can leave for me that I can eat when I wake up?”

Cassandra snapped her fingers again. “Pop Tarts. Left ’em in the kitchen.” She hurried away and returned with the box of pastries. “Got these when I bought the water.” She set them beside the boom box on the bedside table. “Now, anything else before I go? My TV show comes on now.” She stood and rubbed her hands together.

“Well, there is one small thing.” Fred bit her lip as Cassandra paused. “Could you please, please, pretty please call my parents and let them know I’m okay? You don’t have to tell them where I am; just let them know I’m still alive.”

Cassandra’s eyes grew hard as she regarded Fred, her jaw tight. Finally, she said, “No. Not until you do the blood bond.” She turned and left.

Fred watched the door close behind Cassandra. She’s just as bad as Rita. She acts like she’s my friend, but she’s not. It’s all fake. They’re playing good cop – bad cop, and they think I don’t know it. Well, I can act, too. I’ll play along until I figure out how to get out of here.

And there’s no way I’m doing the blood bond with the likes of them.

* * *

Fred lay in the darkness, listening to the two women’s voices drift through her partially open door. They think I’m asleep. Who could sleep through that racket? They both sound drunk.

Rita had just gotten back from the Rusty Screw and was relating the events of her evening. “I sold both jars, just like that.” Fred heard what sounded like a hand slapping on a table. “Soon as I walked in,” Rita continued, “Alphonse cut his finger real bad tryin’ to slice a lemon. So I whipped out a jar of the stuff Fred made and put a little dab on his finger, and it completely healed up right there in front of everybody at the bar, quick as lightnin’. Shoulda’ seen the looks on their faces.” She chuckled. “Alphonse bought that jar on the spot. He whipped fifty bucks out of the cash drawer before you could say abracadabra.”

“What about the other jar?” Cassandra said.

“I pulled it out of my purse, and they started a bidding war for it. Hah! That’s never happened before. I sold it for a hundred and ten bucks. A hundred and ten!”

“Whoo!” Cassandra said. “We need to get Fred to make some more tomorrow.”

“You bet. Some DUI powder, too.” Fred heard what could’ve been a chair scraping across the wooden floor, and Rita continued, “You have any luck talkin’ her into doin’ the blood bond?”

“Not yet, but I think she will soon. She thinks I’m her good buddy, now.”

Rita laughed again, harsh and ugly. “Well, don’t matter. She can stay chained up in that bedroom forever, as long as she helps make potions. She’s a strong one, I can tell. I bet all the spells she makes will be good. She can be our little witch slave, workin’ away back there.”

“Well, you gotta help out more, Rita. I’m getting’ tired a’ cleanin’ up after her. You haven’t dumped her chamber pot once.”

“Get her to do it.”

“How?”

“Put the Compliance Bracelet on her and unchain her. Then she can take it in the bathroom herself.”

“Hadn’t thought of that. She can wash her hair in there while she’s at it. It sucked having to do that.”

It sucked? Fred scowled in the darkness. She acted like she liked it.

“Don’t put her in the shower, though,” Rita said. “Not with the bracelet on. Too much warm water will ruin it.”

“She can just lean over the tub, then. I don’t mind dumpin’ water over her head. I just don’t like haulin’ all that stuff in and out of the bedroom.”

“Don’t blame you. Don’t see me doin’ it, do you?” They both tittered like overgrown birds. “So even if she don’t do the bond, we can make good money off her. Long as the little bitch keeps makin’ potions.”

“I got that,” Cassandra said.

Their voices trailed off to mutters, and Fred stared at the dark ceiling.

So they think I’m a bitch? I’ll show them what a bitch is...no, what a firecracker is. They’ll regret it, soon as I get out of here.

All I have to do is figure out how.

* * *

Fred woke well after sunrise. Wish I knew what time it is. They won’t even give me a clock. She looked around her room, trying again to figure a way out of her prison. In the movies, someone always steals a fork or something to pick the lock. But the two witches had only given Fred plastic utensils, even when she made the healing potion.

I have no idea how to pick a lock anyway. If Jamie were here, he could just touch the ankle cuff and it would pop open.

If only he were here. God, Jamie, where are you?

She’d spent the better part of her time asleep searching for his dreams, without success. Though she did brush up against a couple of dreams that were close by, which she was certain must’ve been Rita’s and Cassandra’s. One of the dream-minds seemed bitter and angry — that had to have been Rita’s — and the other seemed to consist of layers of carefree contentment masking a deeper level of sadness. Bet that one was Cassandra’s. Something awful must’ve happened to her once.

She sat up on the edge of the bed and opened the box of Pop Tarts. This could be my prison for the rest of my life, she thought miserably. If I don’t do the blood bond, they’re gonna keep me here forever. The witches will die of old age, and I’ll starve to death, then somebody will find me here, a shriveled-up corpse with a chain on her ankle. It’ll make the news, and people will wonder who I was. By then, all of my friends and family will have forgotten me.

She stared at the floor, the unopened pack of Pop Tarts still in her hand.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Cassandra entered and said cheerfully, “Good morning. Did you sleep okay?”

What a phony. “I guess. But I think it’s almost noon, isn’t it?”

“Noon, schmoon. Who keeps track?” She pulled something shiny from her pocket. “Hold out your arm.”

Fred did and watched as Cassandra reached to fasten a silver bracelet on Fred’s wrist. Cassandra said, “This is going to make things easier on me.”

Next thing Fred knew, she opened her eyes and noticed she wore a different dress. Her shoulders felt damp, too. “Did you wash my hair?” Fred touched her wet curls.

“You did most of the work,” Cassandra said. “I put the Compliance Bracelet on you and unchained you. I took you in the bathroom and helped you wash it over the tub.”

“Did I, uh, do anything else?”

“You used the toilet, but I didn’t watch.”

How embarrassing. She pulled up her dress and saw that she had clean panties on. “Well, you took care of just about everything, didn’t you?”

“I even cleaned your pot. It was getting smelly.”

Sure, you cleaned it. I heard what you said last night. Fred pictured herself as a walking zombie, carrying the chamber pot and dumping it into the toilet. Gross. I probably washed it out, too. Could this get any worse?

* * *

The entrance to the Hendersonville Police department was at the rear of the City Office building. When Jamie turned his car onto 6th Avenue toward the parking lot, he was surprised by the mob of people he found there. Huh, he thought, looking for a parking space. It’s full. He pulled his car into the lot next door and parked.

Two white television trucks with antenna dishes on top sat on the street nearby. Jamie pushed through the crowd to see his father near the building’s entrance, standing behind some microphones, a slew of reporters and cameras in his face. Fred’s parents stood behind him. Larry wore a brave face, but Lisa looked haggard and pale. Jamie couldn’t hear what his father was saying, but it must’ve been about Fred.

Jamie surveyed the crowd. Near his father, Gramma, Aunt Connie, and Grannie Darla were behind a table, handing out sandwiches to the volunteers. Bryce was there with several of their cross country team mates. Melanie and most of the cheerleaders stood near them.

“Dude!” Jamie turned to see Rollie, grinning as he slapped Jamie on the back.

“I thought you had basketball practice.”

“Coach had to cancel. The whole team revolted when he wouldn’t let us off for this, so he bagged it. He’s here too.” Rollie pointed to the other side of the parking lot.

By this time, Bryce and Melanie had joined them. Bryce shook Jamie’s hand and Melanie hugged Jamie. “Thanks for coming,” Jamie said.

“We brought help,” Bryce said.

“I can see that.”

Melanie beamed. “We’re gonna put up so many fliers...we’ll find her, Jamie. I know it!”

“Boy, I hope so.” Jamie looked across the crowd and said, “It looks like something’s happening. Let’s go see what we’re supposed to do.”

They pushed forward with the rest of the mob to the front of the parking lot, where Carl had taped an enlarged map of the town to a portable whiteboard. He was assigning sections for groups of volunteers to cover. Melanie raised her hand, and when Carl called on her, she suggested that her cheerleader friends cover the business district around Main Street. Rollie and his basketball friends were assigned the area surrounding the downtown district. People with cars were sent farther out; Jamie and Bryce were to go west, out on Highway 64. Some of Gramma’s church friends volunteered to drive up and down the Interstate, putting fliers at rest stops and on telephone poles at all of the nearby exits. A few people suggested that they go to Asheville.

“Asheville’s big,” Carl said. “We don’t have the manpower to cover the whole city.” So they decided to cover the downtown area there, at least.

As everyone lined up to get their stacks of fliers, Jamie watched his father at the center of it all, giving directions and answering questions, the undisputed leader of the operation. Jamie felt a sense of pride as he looked on. People trust him. I trust him. If anybody can bring Fred back, it’s him.

Chapter 27

Cassandra and Rita came into Fred’s room sometime after noon, carrying the coffee table again. “Uh!” Cassandra grunted as they set it by the bed. “I’m going to Walmart and buyin’ us a folding table, soon as we’re done today.

Rita rubbed her lower back and grimaced. “Get a couple of folding chairs while you’re at it.”

Fred sat on the edge of the bed. “What are we making today?”

“Not we...you.” Rita said as Cassandra stepped back into the hall for the cardboard box. “You’re gonna try making DUI powder. That’s a big seller for us.”

“You sell it at the Screw?”

“Yeah, and a couple other bars. Fridays and Saturdays are when we sell the most of it, so we need to make up a big batch today. Thought we might get you to make some more healing potion, too.”

“Did that sell last night?” Fred asked innocently.

Rita only shrugged as she settled cross-legged on the floor. Cassandra sat next to her with the box.

Fred slid down to the floor between the bed and the table. “Is that the only place you sell your potions and stuff? Bars?”

Rita pulled some jars out of the box and put them on the table in front of her. “Mostly, but we also sell stuff at that shop in you-know-where, remember? Big Dan takes it for us.”

“Have you ever thought about setting up your own web store?”

The two women blinked at her vacuously and Fred raised her eyebrows and said, “An Internet site...an online outlet...does any of this ring a bell?”

“Oh.” Cassandra waved one hand. “We don’t have an Internet here.”

Rita smacked Cassandra’s upper arm. “The Internet, Cass. Not an Internet. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“I don’t know. And it don’t matter, it’s too hard to do.”

“No it’s not,” Fred said. “Most any high school kid can do it.”

“Can you?”

“Sure. All you need is a computer and an Internet connection.” She sensed an opportunity. If they give me access to a computer, I’ll email Jamie and be out of here in a flash.

Rita gave her a suspicious look. “How do we get that? And how much does it cost?”

“Your cable TV provider probably offers it. Might cost...I dunno...fifty dollars a month for the service and the web hosting.”

“That’s too expensive.”

“Don’t be silly. You could be selling potions and powders all over the world. If you made, say, love potions — you do make those, don’t you?” They nodded and Fred continued, “How many of those do you sell a night at a bar?”

Rita shrugged. “Depends. Sometimes one or two. Sometimes none.”

Fred threw up her hands. “Do you know how many high school kids would die to have a real love potion? Zillions! I would’ve bought one myself if my boyfriend had taken any longer to fall in love with me.” Oh. She suddenly felt herself blush, but the women didn’t seem to notice. Would I have used one on him?

“How much could we sell them for?” Rita said.

“Maybe twenty five dollars each. Is that enough?”

“We sell them for fifty now.”

“But you only sell about four or five a month. You could probably sell four or five hundred over the Internet. Every month. Maybe more, once you get a reputation for selling good stuff.”

The women stared at her with their mouths open. Fred said, “Do you want me to do the math for you?”

Rita gave her head a quick shake. “No, that’s okay. It would be hard to make that much, though.”

“Is it a potion or a powder?”

“Can be both. The best kind is when you make an amulet, ’cause then you don’t have to slip anything into a drink or nothing. Potions are better for that. But amulets are hard to make.”

Fred rubbed her chin with one knuckle. “Potions would be hard to mail. Powders would be easier.”

“Powders are best for sprinklin’ over somebody’s food,” Cassandra said. “You can pour it into a drink, too, but the person drinkin’ it might notice it floatin’ on top if it doesn’t dissolve fast enough.”

“How many can you make an hour?”

Rita’s mouth pinched and she scratched her temple with a fingertip. “Hmm...I can make a batch of about ten in less than that.”

“What if you doubled the recipe and used a bigger mortar and stuff?”

“We’ve never done that before.”

Fred let out an exasperated gust of air. “But if you really had to, how many doses could you make in an hour, say, with all of us working at once?” I need to make them think I’m coming around to their side. “As a production team?”

“Doses?” Cassandra blinked. “Never heard ’em called that.”

Fred clenched her fists and ground her teeth. Try not to say anything to make them mad. “If you absolutely had to,” she said levelly, “how many could you make in one afternoon?”

“A hundred?” Rita said. “Not real sure. Powders would be faster.”

“What if you had help? Could you get any other witches to work with you?”

Rita shook her head. “There aren’t a hell of a lot of good witches around. It was hard enough finding you.”

“There are a few in...in a nearby city,” Cassandra said, “But they wouldn’t want to help. They’re our competition.” She chuckled. “They hate us, actually.”

Imagine that, Fred thought with a straight face. “Well, you could probably get someone to help with the logistics, and then you could —”

“The what?”

“The nuts and bolts of a business...gritty details, like addressing and mailing orders, or even just putting the powders in packets. Somebody’s got to do that, you know, and you don’t have to be a witch to go to the post office.”

Rita looked at Cassandra. “Geraldine could do that. She’s lookin’ for a job.”

“Sure.” Fred nodded. “You could set up your own little mail order operation for less than a thousand dollars, counting the cost of a computer, and rake in the cash.” Rita’s eyes grew bright, but Cassandra still looked unsure. Fred said, “Cass, don’t you want to make more money?”

“Well, yeah, but —”

“Wouldn’t you love to have boatloads of fancy clothes and drive a nice new car? How old is the car you have now?”

“It’s a nineteen eighty something-or-other, but Louis put a new motor in it and it runs just fine. Just got some rust spots, is all.”

Rita gave her a hard look. “Well, I wouldn’t mind havin’ more money. I’m tired of just getting’ by.”

“Good. We’ll talk more about this later.” Fred clapped her hands and looked at the stuff on the table. “Now, how do we make this DUI stuff?”

As the women finished setting out the ingredients, Fred thought, I don’t know about Cassandra, but I think Rita’s ready to go for this. If I play this right, maybe she’ll let me off this chain without making me do the blood bond.

Then I can get the heck out of here.

* * *

The sun was well below the tops of the leafless trees when Jamie thumbtacked a flier to a telephone pole in front of a gas station at the farthest edge of town. Bryce stood nearby, hands buried in the pockets of his heavy coat, shivering, his dark hair ruffled by the wind.

“Let’s head back,” Bryce said. “It’s almost dinner time.”

“Just a few more.” Jamie tucked the rest of the fliers under his arm and looked around for another place to put one.

“We’ve covered everything out this way. There’s not much past here.”

“There are a couple of businesses farther west.”

“Come on, Jamie. Lets’ go. We can do it tomorrow.”

“Are you coming back?”

“’Course I am. Rollie and Melanie are, too. They just texted me. Want me to pick you up in the morning? Say, around eight?”

Jamie nodded and they walked toward Jamie’s car, parked on the shoulder of the road. “Rollie’s gonna get up on a Saturday morning before eight o’clock?”

Bryce chuckled. “Yeah, I told him I gotta be at work by twelve.”

Jamie groaned and put his hand to his forehead. “Work! Dang, I forgot. I gotta be at the vet clinic by nine.”

“So does Rollie, remember? I think your boss will let you off this one time. He is your cousin, after all.”

“Yeah.” Jamie stopped and stared at the ground in front of him. “I’ll call somebody to cover for me and Rollie.” He continued to stand there, mouth squeezed tightly, until Bryce put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

“Listen, buddy,” Bryce said. “I know it’s hard right now. It’s hard for all of us, so don’t feel like you’re alone.” Bryce cleared his throat. “We’re gonna help as much as we can.”

Jamie looked into his Bryce’s dark eyes and nodded, then looked away. “Thanks.” He started to walk toward his car again, but Bryce stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I mean it, Jamie. We all miss her something awful. Life just isn’t the same without Fred bossin’ us around, tellin’ us what to do.”

Jamie had to laugh a little at that. Bryce said, “Now let’s head back before somebody gets worried and sends a search party after us.”

* * *

Rachel looked up from cutting vegetables at the kitchen counter to see Carl step through the door from the garage. She could tell from the look on his face that there was no good news about Fred. “Are you hungry?” she said.

He grunted as he hung his coat on a chair, then he dropped heavily on the one next to it and leaned his elbows on the table. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and said, “Tired.”

“You’re probably not getting enough sleep on the Callahan’s couch.”

“Well, that’s not going to be a problem any longer.” His face was grim as he looked at her.

That doesn’t sound good. “Why?”

“Chief told me he’s pulling the other two detectives off the detail. He said we can keep the tracing equipment at the Callahan’s tonight, but he wants me to bring it back tomorrow morning.”

“What if the kidnappers call?”

“In most cases like this, they would’ve called already.”

“Oh.” They locked gazes but were both afraid to say what they knew it meant.

Carl took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a long moment. “Chief thinks it’s time to organize search parties and send them out to the national forest.”

“No! That’s like...that’s like admitting that she’s probably dead.”

“I know, and it’s almost Christmas Eve, too. I can’t tell Larry and Lisa we’re doing that. I just can’t.” He exhaled heavily. “I asked the Chief if we could wait until after Christmas.”

Rachel shook her head slowly. “Please don’t tell Lisa yet. I don’t know if she can take it. I’m worried about her, Carl, really worried. She’s not eating or sleeping...she’s wasting away. If we tell her about the search parties, she might lose it.”

“Larry’s not doing much better.”

Rachel looked away and put her hand to her face, eyes blurring with tears. Her voice quivered as she spoke. “This is going to be the worst Christmas ever. The worst anything ever.”

Carl got up and put his arms around her, and they stood that way for a long time.

* * *

Fred lay in bed listening to music; the only light in her room was from the small bedside lamp, its glow barely reaching the corners of the room. She sat up when she heard footsteps in the hall.

“Brought you something to eat,” Rita said as she walked in.

“It’s about time.” Fred turned down the volume on the boom box and sat on the edge of the bed.

Rita handed her a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. “Here.”

“Ow, wow. You went all out. What am I supposed to spread the peanut butter with?”

Rita pulled a plastic knife from her pocket and handed it to Fred.

Fred eyed it and thought, Well, I’ll never pick the lock with this.

Rita gestured at the bread. “I figured you can keep that in here in case you get hungry and we’re busy.”

“Oh, great. Thanks bunches,” she said sarcastically.

“You know, you should be a little more grateful. We give you —”

“Grateful?” Fred exploded. “You keep me chained to a bed, make me work for you like a slave, and all you feed me is Pop Tarts, peanut butter, and cheap microwave dinners.”

“You need to show more respect, young lady.”

“I’ll show you respect when you give me a reason to respect you.”

Rita’s eyes grew hard. She pulled the little white doll from her pocket, snatched the pin from its sash, and jabbed it into its arm.

“Ow!” Fred grabbed her elbow.

“That’ll give you something to respect.”

Fred gave her an angry glare, fierce as a sun that withers all black to gray. Rita held her gaze for a moment before looking away with a grunt. She turned and marched from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Fred watched her go. God, I hate her. I hate Cassandra, too, but not as much as I hate her. She picked up the plastic knife and inspected it. No, I definitely can’t pick a lock with this. Not that I could pick one with a metal knife, either. Are these women giving me plastic utensils because they’re smart, or lazy?

Lazy. Fred thought as she opened the jar of peanut butter. Definitely lazy.

* * *

Evelyn put on her turn signal and eased her car into the right lane. “Connie, let’s put some fliers up at this next exit.”

Connie stirred awake and blinked at the glare of the oncoming headlights. “Where are we?”

“We’re at the northern edge of Columbia.”

“South Carolina?” She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes with the fingertips of one hand. “Can we make this the last stop? It’ll be midnight by the time we get home. Ray’s probably already back at the condo.”

“Just a few more.”

“Evelyn, please. I love Fred too, but I need to go to bed.”

“But what if we skip one and that was the one where someone had seen her?” She glanced at her sister, but the look on her face told her it was time to turn around. “Do you want to come with me tomorrow?”

“Where?”

“Maybe we can take I-40 toward Knoxville.”

“That’s where Ray went. And Gina and Cory are going to Greensboro tonight, putting up fliers along the way. Some other volunteers from church have taken all of the smaller roads. There’s not a rest stop or gas station within hours of here that doesn’t have a flier by now.”

“I feel like we should be doing more.”

“I know what you mean, Evelyn. It seems like if we’re out there doing something, then we’re bringing Fred home sooner.”

“If I wasn’t doing something to help, I’d be home, pacing the floor and calling Rachel every ten minutes.”

After a long pause, Connie put her hand on Evelyn’s arm. “This is the hardest thing we’ve ever been through.”

The weight of her words seemed to press heavily on her just then, and a sigh escaped her. “I know Connie. I know.”

Chapter 28

Fred lay on her right side, staring blankly at the bare wall, its cracks barely discernible in the dim morning light.

It’s Saturday, she thought numbly. The recital is in a few hours, and I won’t be there. She pictured her awkward, adorable little students, tap dancing across the stage in their leotards and reindeer antlers, parents with their cellphones and cameras out, snapping cheerfully away.

Do they miss me? Did the parents even bother to tell the kids about me? Would they even understand if they knew?

She pictured Mathew’s sweet loving face, and a lump rose in her throat. I sure miss them.

A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and disappeared into the bed sheet below.

* * *

Carl unplugged the last cable from the slim metal box while Larry sat at the end of the table, watching dully through hollow eyes.

Lisa stood in the kitchen doorway in her bath robe; she wore no makeup, her reddish-blonde hair was disheveled. “It’s because she’s dead, isn’t it Carl?”

“No, it doesn’t mean that.” He dropped the laptop into its zippered case. “The Chief doesn’t think —”

“She’s been kidnapped, raped, and murdered.” Her voice became shrill. “Why don’t you just come out and say it?”

“She’s not been murdered! Or raped, either.” Carl stopped what he was doing and took a deep breath, eyes closed. “I don’t know what’s happened to her, but she’s not dead.”

“Then why hasn’t she contacted Jamie in a dream? Huh? If she were alive, she would! She’s dead, Carl! Admit it!”

Not until I see proof, I won’t. “I’m gonna find her, Lisa.”

“When, Carl?” Tears began trickling down her cheeks. “When?”

“Soon, Lisa. Be strong, okay.” He glanced at Larry, looking for help, but his eyes only mirrored Lisa’s hopelessness.

Carl gritted his teeth. I won’t give up until I see her dead body. Until then, I’m giving this everything I have. I could never forgive myself if I didn’t.

* * *

Fred was still lying on her side when Rita and Cassandra came into her room.

“Rise and shine!” Cassandra sang.

“Go away,” Fred said to the wall.

“Don’t you want to do some witchcraft today?” Rita said.

“I hate you.”

“We’d thought we’d let you try making an amulet.”

“A what?” Fred rolled over on her back to see Rita setting up a folding table and Cassandra unfolding a couple of chairs.

“An amulet. Like this.” Rita held up the jade figure hanging at her neck.

“I though you said it takes a triad to make something like that.”

“Usually.” Rita sat on one of the chairs while Cassandra went out into the hall for the cardboard box of ingredients. “It takes more powerful magic to force the spell into an object like this, power that we only get when we’re linked up in a triad, but you seem to be pretty strong.” She watched Cassandra set the box on the table. “We want to see what you’re capable of.

Fred sat up and pointed at Rita’s necklace. “What does that little thing do, anyway?”

“It makes people kinda dumb and forgetful.”

Like you and Cassandra, Fred almost said aloud, but caught herself when she saw the bulge in Rita’s dress pocket. That’s probably the doll.

“The faster I twirl it, the stronger the effect.”

“What’s to stop it from affecting you?” Fred asked.

Cassandra held out her arm. “These little bracelets. They’re counter charms.”

“I wondered why you were wearing such ugly jewelry.”

“They are ugly, aren’t they?” Cassandra held hers closer to her face and wrinkled her nose at it.

“This is what I used when we snatched you.” Rita gave the baby-shaped pendant around her neck a little flick with a fingernail. “In case your neighbors were watching. If they’d been looking out their windows and saw us, they wouldn’t remember a thing.”

Great. So if anybody saw me get snatched, they wouldn’t have been any help. Nobody knows where I am or who I’m with.

“We also used it at your school,” Cassandra said. “The ladies in the office didn’t want to tell us where you lived, but when Rita twirled that thing, they got very cooperative.”

Fred pictured the two witches marching up to the desk at the school office, twirling the pendant and demanding Fred’s personal information. And nobody’s going to remember because of that little piece of jade.

Fred exhaled heavily and said, “All right then.” She rolled her legs over the side of the bed, the chain clanking on the floor. “What do I have to do?”

Cassandra handed her a spell book. “Turn to where the book mark is and look over the ingredients.”

Rita set a small cube-shaped metal contraption on the table. “This is a Sterno stove. You have to boil the potion after you mix it and immerse the amulet in it.” She showed Fred a brass peace symbol, about the size of a half dollar, attached to a thin leather thong. “We’ll try putting the charm in this old thing.” She handed Fred a small aluminum pan with a blackened bottom. “Put the powders in this instead of a bowl.”

Fred read the recipe aloud. “One tablespoon barberry root bark.”

“That doesn’t grind up very well. Just measure it out and dump it in the pan.”

Fred looked up from the book. “Am I supposed to be putting my inner self into the ingredients again?”

“Of course. I thought that was understood.”

“Just checking.” She looked hard at Cassandra. “It would help if you wouldn’t snap your gum.”

“Sorry.” Cassandra reached into her mouth and pulled out the sticky wad, then stuck it to the underside of the table.

“Gross!”

“I’ll get it later.”

Fred turned back to her task. She opened the small bag, closed her eyes and smelled the chipped wooden pieces inside, letting it fill her lungs as she emptied her mind. I know you, she thought. I feel what you can do. She opened her eyes and dumped it in the pan. Then she looked at the book again, opened on the table beside her. “Dried ironweed petals.”

Cassandra handed Fred the mortar and pestle. “Definitely grind that.”

Fred did, taking her time and letting the connections form again, the glowing gossamer strands of magic that ran from her and through her, in and out of the herbs before her. She measured and ground, measured and ground, going methodically down the list of substances from the book, the room silent except for the sound of the pestle mashing against the flakes in the mortar.

When she finished, Rita handed her a plastic gallon jug of water. “Dump some of this in the pan now.”

Fred took the jug and twisted off the cap. “Is this distilled?”

“I dunno. Does it matter?”

“It might. Minerals in regular water might affect the mixture.” Fred checked the label. “It is distilled.”

“Lucky.” Cassandra said. “I just bought what was on the shelf at the store.”

“We never thought of that before,” Rita said as she lit the can of Sterno at the bottom of the little stove. “Maybe that’s why I never could get this spell to work by myself.”

“Maybe it’s ’cause your magic’s not strong enough,” Cassandra said.

Rita paused with her lighter still aflame and gave Cassandra a wicked look.

Cassandra shrunk back from her. “Don’t you burn me again!”

“Watch your mouth, then. Besides, I just barely touched it to you that time.”

Cassandra eyebrows drew down. “It still hurt.”

Fred stared at the two witches, mouth open. She burned her? That is one mean woman.

“What are you starin’ at?” Rita said, looking at Fred. “Water’s boiling. You need to hold the medallion in it.”

“Oh.” Fred picked up the peace symbol by its thong and eased it into the brown liquid.

“Push your mind into it. Really focus, Fred.”

Fred tried to remember what Jamie said about how magic comes from him. She steadied her breathing as she held the thin strip of leather. Clear your mind and find your center. That’s where the magic comes from. The center. She honed her awareness to a single point before her, the medallion. She urged the tendrils of her magic-self outward to it; phosphorescent fibers seemed to grow like leafless vines and encircled the round bit of brass. Go inside it, she commanded. She gasped and closed her eyes as it did — she felt the metal then, hot in the boiling water, soaking up the power. More, she insisted. Take all of the power.

There was a deep, powerful thrum that she heard and felt, down to her bones, a beautiful resonant tone. It swelled and diminished. She opened her eyes.

The medallion was glowing in the water. She stared in amazement as the light faded until it looked like an ordinary tarnished piece of metal.

“I think it worked, Rita,” Cassandra said softly.

“Let’s test it.” Rita snatched the thong from Fred’s hand. “Give me your bracelet, Cass.”

“Why?”

“So Fred can wear it. I want her to see this.”

“Give her your own.”

“Give me your damn bracelet!”

Cassandra scowled but complied, sliding it off her wrist and handing it to Fred.

“Put in on, Fred.” Rita began twirling the medallion as Fred slipped the bracelet on. Cassandra’s eyes grew blank and her lips parted.

“Excellent!” Rita kept the medallion spinning and pulled the doll out with her free hand, set it on the table, and yanked the pin from its sash. Then she leaned over and jabbed the pin into Cassandra’s arm. Cassandra didn’t react.

Fred watched, amazed. She didn’t even wince.

Rita stopped twirling the medallion and nodded exuberantly. “It worked!”

Life returned to Cassandra’s eyes. “Ow.” She rubbed her arm.

“It worked, Cass.” Rita held the peace symbol up triumphantly. “It worked great.”

Cassandra stared at the little spot of blood on her arm. “You stuck me!”

“You’re fine. Slap some of that healing jelly on it and it’ll quit hurting.”

Cassandra continued rubbing her injury, eyebrows low and her lower lip out. “You said it worked?” Her face brightened. “Cool. We can sell that for big bucks.”

“Who would buy something like that?” Fred asked.

“Oh, someone who wants to do something sneaky.”

“Like stealing.”

“Didn’t say that.” But her Cheshire Cat smile said that’s what she meant. “Fred, before we quit for today, you need to make us some more DUI powder and a few love potions so I’ll have something to sell tonight.”

“Okay, sure.” But suddenly those tasks seemed very ordinary to her.

The two women chatted excitedly as they set out the ingredients for the other spells. Fred had her eye on the medallion the whole time. If I could somehow get hold of that when they’re not wearing their bracelets, I could use it on them and get out of here.

I wonder if there are any other spells I might be able to use. A germ of a plan began to form in her mind.

* * *

Rita leaned closer to the bathroom mirror and inspected the graying roots of her hair. Damn. That last rinse didn’t take. She exhaled through tightened lips and stood back, still regarding her reflection.

If Fred will hurry up and do the blood bond, this won’t be such a problem. She fingered her scalp idly. But she’s a strong one. Might be strong enough to make the Rejuvenation Potion. She smiled at the thought. That would be something!

She pulled out her eye liner and leaned back to the mirror, painfully aware of the deepening crow’s feet spreading from the corners of her eyes. A good Rejuvenation Potion would take care of those. We need to get Fred to try it, soon as she’s had a little more practice.

And if she can pull it off...we can make a lot of money off that. Thousands.

She smiled to herself and finished putting on her makeup.

* * *

Rita sat back in her barstool and took a sip from her drink, but stopped when she saw Alphonse look toward the front door. “John Paul is here,” he said.

Rita turned and watched the uniformed officer stride toward the bar, a piece of paper in his hand. “’Evenin’, Alphonse,” he said, pushing in between two empty stools and resting one hand on the bar.

“’Evenin’, John Paul.” Alphonse set a full mug of beer in front of a patron and wiped his hands on a dingy towel. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re looking for a missing girl.” He handed the paper to Alphonse. “Seen her?”

Rita’s pulse quickened. What if it’s Fred? What will we do? She took a deep breath and forced a mask of unconcern on her face.

Alphonse scanned the paper, shook his head and handed it back. “She’s not been around here.”

Rita jacked up her nerve and held out her hand. “Let me see it, Sergeant.”

John Paul gave her the paper and Rita looked at the picture on it, holding her breath as she did. To her relief, it was of an overweight Goth-looking girl, much younger than Fred, with jet black hair and a pierced eyebrow and a nose ring. Whew! She calmly handed the paper back. “No. Never seen her.”

“It was worth a try,” John Paul said. He looked at Alphonse. “Mind if I show it around the bar”

“Sure.” Alphonse gestured at the room. “Help yourself.”

That was scary, Rita thought as John Paul walked to the nearest table with the photo. She gave her head a tight shake and turned back to the bar, downing the last of her drink in one gulp. “Alphonse? Another one please.” She shook her empty glass at him, the ice rattling noisily. “Make it a double.”

* * *

Fred sent her mind out, just as she did every night, soaring through the ethereal world of dreams, searching for Jamie. On her way, she passed Rita’s and Cassandra’s sleeping forms, but moved on, hunting for her love, the boy she missed so terribly.

She sampled many minds as she flew, but after what seemed like hours of fruitless questing, she returned. When she neared her own sleeping body, she brushed by Cassandra’s slumbering consciousness and swooped in closer to observe, and finally to touch it, not enough to interact, but only to see and feel.

She’s having a nightmare, Fred knew at once. It was from a child’s point of view — Fred could tell because she was looking up at an adult, a blonde-haired woman. Her mother, Fred thought. The woman was dressed in a fine skirt, low-cut blouse and high heels, with a purse in one hand and the other on a doorknob. The child had her arms around the woman’s leg, shrieking, the woman shaking her leg, trying to force the child off. And when she was finally free, the woman bolted through the open door, slamming it behind her, leaving the child screaming, terrified.

The child beat on the door with her tiny fists, wailing, tears streaming down her cheeks. The girl turned and faced the empty room behind her. She was alone.

Fred woke and lay in the dark, her heart pounding. How awful. Fred chewed a fingernail and thought about the dream. But that says something about Cassandra. She wants me to do the blood bond so badly because the triad is like a family to her. Probably the closest thing to a real family she’s ever known.

Fred rolled onto her left side and stared at the dark wall. It also explains why she puts up with Rita. She’s like a sister to her. An abusive one, but a sister just the same.

Chapter 29

Fred opened her eyes in her sunlit room to see that she wore another clean dress and her hair was wet again. She looked over at Cassandra, who was putting the magic bracelet away in her pocket. “Did I shave my legs, too?”

“No.” Cassandra chuckled. “You still have to do that at the washstand.”

“Could you at least give me a little of the healing jelly?” After all, I made it, she thought bitterly. “For when I nick myself with the razor?”

“We’ll see.”

Fred picked up the hairbrush from the bedside table. “Are we making any potions or anything today?”

“No. It’s Christmas Eve, so we thought we’d take the day off. Me and Rita have some errands to run...shoppin’ and stuff.”

I’d love to go shopping. “Well, I don’t have anything to do. Do you have any books?”

“You mean to read?”

“No, to eat.”

“Hah! Uh, no, but I got a couple of fashion magazines.”

“No thanks.” As Cassandra started to walk away, Fred screwed up her courage and asked for what she really wanted. “How about a spell book or two? I gotta learn that stuff anyway.”

Cassandra’s eyes said no, but Fred stumbled on quickly. “I’ll be able to make the powders and stuff faster.” She cleared her throat. “I can make more at one sitting. Make more, sell more?” She grinned. “It is Christmas Eve, after all. Cut your slave girl a little slack.”

“Well....” Cassandra pushed her tongue against the side of her cheek. “Maybe just this once.”

She left the room, and Fred clapped her hands softly and smiled to herself. Yes! Cassandra returned with four large leather-bound books and dropped them on the bed beside Fred. “Here. Read away.”

Cassandra started to leave, but Fred stopped her. “One more thing. Could I use one of the folding chairs?” She glanced at the corner where they leaned against the wall with the table. “I get a backache from this bed.”

“You sure do ask a lot.”

Give me a break! Fred wanted to scream, but instead looked at Cassandra silently, with the best puppy-dog eyes she could muster. After several tense seconds, Cassandra relented and picked up one of the chairs, setting it next to the bed as she spoke, “But that’s it. You’re on your own from here.” She walked away and made it to the doorway before stopping again. She turned back to Fred. “You know, this would be a good day to do the blood bond. That way we could celebrate our first Christmas together as a triad.”

Fred stared at her but didn’t answer. Cassandra looked at her for a few more awkward moments, then she turned and left without another word.

When Cassandra closed the door behind her, Fred sat down in the folding chair and picked up one of the heavy books, opening the thick cover eagerly. Finally! There’s got to be something useful in here. If Jamie can’t find me, I’m going to have to make my own way out of here, and magic might just be my ticket home.

* * *

The lowest note a contra bassoon can play is a low B flat. It’s so low that it almost sounds like the rumblings of a large beast that’s been disturbed in its lair, barely discernible as a musical tone. Jamie’s mood was at least an octave below that. He needed to do something about it.

“Mom, I’m going for a run,” Jamie said from the front hall.

“Make sure you dress warmly,” she called from the kitchen.

He closed the door and walked down the steps. A blast of winter wind cut through his clothing: a hooded sweat shirt and sweat pants, white cotton gloves. I won’t feel the cold once I’m warmed up. He wasn’t even sure where he was heading. I’ll go north for awhile...maybe go out Fruitland Road to Terry’s Gap.

Jamie needed to think. Though it was Christmas Eve, he was not in the Christmas spirit; he was depressed, and brooding around the house was only pushing him deeper into the dumps. Nothing cleared his brain like running. Eight or ten miles ought to do it.

He jogged loose and easy at first. I better not push it. Haven’t run in awhile. Don’t want to get sore. The sky was the color of dirty dishwater, left in the sink all night to grow cold. The leafless trees that he passed looked somber and dead, showing no promise of spring.

There were no cars in sight when he turned out of their subdivision and crossed the main road. As he warmed up, the simmering anxiety gradually subsided, pushed into a corner of his mind. Focused on his form, he was able to forget about Fred for a while.

Run. That’s all. No thinking. No worrying. Just me and the highway.

By the time he’d covered the two miles to Terry’s Gap, he was warmed up and running well. Before he knew it, he was nearly four miles into it and near the corner of Kyle’s Creek Road and Green Mountain Road. Development was sparse there, the houses far apart. It’s nice up here. Jamie usually wouldn’t stop when he ran. Freshmen did, their first few days on the cross country team, but not Jamie. What the heck. Maybe for a minute.

He found a spot where the shoulder of the road was wide and the view was promising. On his right, there was a broad, grassy valley that rolled up into a long series of hills. A creek cut through it, past a tin-roofed weathered gray barn with an ancient tractor slumbering inside. Jamie stopped, pulled the hood of his sweatshirt back, and paced for a moment, then settled beside an old wooden fence, one foot resting on the bottom rail and his forearms on the top, and took in the scenery.

“It’s a nice view,” someone said behind him.

Jamie turned to see an old man sitting on a nearby stump, wearing a faded jacket and worn jeans, his long gray hair tied back in a ponytail. A carved walking stick lay across his knees and he had a gentle smile. Jamie could tell by his high cheekbones and strong nose that he was a Cherokee.

“Excuse me?” Jamie said.

“The view. It’s nice.”

“Yeah. I’ve never stopped here before.”

“Me either. Today seemed like a good day.” Jamie didn’t respond and the old man continued, “I know you. You are the Magic Man.”

Jamie’s pulse, already high from running, quickened further. “How do you know that?” he said defensively.

“You and your friends did a show in the rec center at the rez last year. Very good.” He applauded softly.

Jamie breathed a little sigh of relief. “The rez?”

“Reservation.” The wind gusted just then and Jamie winced at the biting cold, but the old man didn’t seem to feel it. He continued, “The black boy with the dummy....”

“Rollie. He’s a ventriloquist.”

“Yes.” He chuckled. “Rufus. The dummy’s name was Rufus. Funny.”

“He’s my neighbor.”

“He’s very talented. My grandchildren liked him. The red-headed girl was good, too.”

“Fred.”

“She dances with fire.”

“She’s my neighbor, too.” He wanted to say girlfriend, but he didn’t for some reason.

“You do good magic. Real magic.”

“No,” Jamie smiled. “It’s all just tricks.”

“All but the last one. That was real magic. You didn’t palm the balls. You made them vanish.”

How does he know?

“It’s okay.” He nodded, and as if he read Jamie’s mind, said, “Nobody else could tell. How did you make them do that?”

Jamie looked at him for a moment, hesitating. There was something different about this man. His manner was gentle and polite, but his eyes were knowing. I can’t fool him. He sensed it with certainty. “It’s called translocating. I tell the balls, or ask them, sort of, to go someplace else. I sent them to the volunteer’s pocket.”

“He was surprised, wasn’t he?” His eyes were smiling along with his wide mouth. “Your magic is strong. I can see it.” His face became more serious. “The girl has magic, too.”

Dang. Who is this guy? “Yes. She can visit me in my dreams.”

“A Dream Talker.” He nodded wisely. “I had an older cousin who claimed she could do that, but she never talked to me in my dreams.”

“Fred talks to me a lot.” Or did.

“I heard about what happened to her. I saw it on the news.”

Jamie didn’t answer.

“You will find her. Your magic is too strong.” He held his aged hands in front of his chest and made them into fists about a foot apart, knuckles facing each other. “Her magic and yours are like a magnet and iron.” He gradually brought them closer together until the knuckles touched. “They pull at each other.” He winked. “I feel sorry for whoever stands between you. They might get hurt.”

I’d like to hurt whoever took her.

“Tell me, Magic Man —”

“It’s Jamie.”

“Tell me, Jamie, did you make much money when you did the show at the rez?”

Jamie shook his head. “We always perform for free. My grandmother sets up the shows, and she says it’s important to volunteer. Doing something good for others is one of the best things one can do as a person.”

“You grandmother is wise.”

It was Jamie’s turn to nod. “She sure is.” Jamie took a deep breath and said, “Well, it was nice talking to you, but I need to finish my run.”

“Before you go, would you do some magic for me?”

Ordinarily, Jamie wouldn’t have even considered it. But something made him say, “I guess. What do you want me to do?”

“Anything. But no tricks. Any fool with a magic set can do those.”

Jamie looked around by the fence for a good rock that he could throw and blast, but didn’t see one. I’ll do something different. “Okay, here’s a new one. Watch closely.” Jamie held his hands out and a yellowish shimmer surrounded him. Then he gestured and admired the look of surprise on the old man’s face.

“Where did you go?” the man said, eyes wide.

Jamie dropped his hands and the shield vanished. “It’s an invisibility spell. I worked that one out by myself.”

“Very good! You disappeared completely.” The man applauded and dipped his head in a slight bow. “You just made an old man’s day.” He looked at the gray sky for a moment before turning back to Jamie. “It’s reassuring to know that so much power is under the guidance of a good heart.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” He pulled his hood back over his head. “Well, I gotta get going.”

“Goodbye, Jamie, Magic Man,” he said as Jamie trotted back onto the asphalt.

When Jamie was about thirty yards down the road, he thought, I didn’t get his name. He stopped and turned, but the old man was gone. There was no stump, either.

“Huh,” Jamie grunted. “Weird.” He turned and ran home.

* * *

Fred sat in the little pool of light from the bedside lamp, pouring intently over one of the spell books. She looked up when she heard heavy footsteps and a deep male voice out in the hall.

“Bathroom back here?” the voice said, and the bedroom door opened. A tall, heavy-set man stood there. He had long dark hair and a bushy beard, and wore patched blue jeans and a black T-shirt. “Whoa!” His dark eyes widened. “What we got here?”

“Get out!” Fred said.

“Pete, you missed the bathroom,” Fred heard Cassandra say from the living room.

“Who’s this in here?” he turned and said over his shoulder, hand still on the doorknob.

“None of your concern. Hurry up and go to the bathroom and get back out here.”

Pete looked at Fred and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, then grunted and closed the door behind him.

Fred stared at the space where he’d been and felt her stomach tighten. I don’t like the looks of that guy.

* * *

Fred woke in the darkness when she heard her door creak open. “Who’s there?”

“Just ol’ Pete, darlin’, come to pay you a visit.”

“Get out of my room!” Fred commanded.

“Ah, don’t be so mean, Sweetheart.” She heard heavy footsteps cross the floor. “Cassandra fell asleep on me and I’m all alone.”

Creepy fingers of dread began to tickle her spine. “Well, you can just go back out and mmph!” A massive hand closed over her mouth and her bed sagged as he sat on the edge. A wave of panic surged from deep within. What’s he doing?

“You’re a cute young thing.” He lay down on top of her and she felt the breath squeezed from her lungs. “Bet you’re good in bed.”

Stop! Fred struggled mightily, but to no effect. She could barely move. His enormous weight had her pinned to the mattress, and no one could hear her scream with his beefy hand over her mouth. He put his face next to hers — his breath reeked of alcohol and his beard scratched her cheek— and he groped for the hem of Fred’s nightgown with his free hand. He’s going to rape me!

NO! NO! NO! She got her left arm free and beat him across the back of his head and shoulders, but he didn’t seem to mind. He had her gown up past her waist and was feeling for her panties. She fumbled about frantically for something, anything, to hit him with. Her hand bumped against the empty chamber pot next to her bed and knocked the board off of the top. It clunked to the floor as Fred’s fingers found the rim of the pot. She yanked it up hard and slammed it into his head. Bong! She swung again, harder. Bong! He grunted and pulled his hand from her mouth.

She swung with everything she had and struck him with a deafening clang. He slumped against her and she smacked him one more time for good measure, then waited a moment to make sure he was out. She dropped the pot and gasped, “Help!” but she could barely put any air behind it. He’s gonna suffocate me. It’s like lying underneath a whale.

She managed to work her knee up into his gut and raise his inert mass high enough to get her right arm beneath him. She heaved with all her strength and he rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a massive thud.

“Rita! Cassandra!” she screamed. “Get this guy out of here!”

A minute later, the overhead light flicked on and Cassandra appeared at the door, rubbing her eyes, fully dressed except for her shoes. Rita stood behind her in a nightgown. Cassandra said, “What’s going on?”

Fred pointed to the unconscious body on the floor. “Your biker boyfriend tried to rape me!”

“Hah! He’s a horny one.”

“Get him out of here!” Fred yelled.

Rita walked in and toed Pete’s ribs with her bare foot. “He’s out like a light. Just let him sleep here.”

Fred clenched her fists and shrieked. “Get — this — guy — out — of — here! Now!”

“Okay, okay, calm down. He didn’t mean no harm.” Rita grabbed one ankle and Cassandra the other, and they began dragging the brute across the floor. “Damn, Pete,” Cassandra said. “You need to go on a diet.” His arms caught in the doorway and they had to fold them across his chest before they could squeeze him through.

“Let’s just leave him out in the hall, Cass,” Rita said. “He’s too heavy to take back to your room.”

“No!” Fred said. “He might come back.”

“We’ll give him a little something to make sure he stays out.” Rita let go of his ankle and put her hands on her hips. “You know, Cass, we’re gonna have to give him a forget potion in the morning. We can’t have him blabbin’ about Fred all over town.”

“Let’s worry about it later, Rita. Just give him the knockout powder and let’s go back to bed.”

Oh no, Fred groaned to herself as they turned off the light and closed the door, leaving her alone. He could actually be of some help. He’s the only one who knows I’m here, and now they’re going to make him forget.

“Ahhh!” Fred yelled and flopped back down on the bed, shaking her fists in frustration in the darkness.

But it only took a minute for the seriousness of her near-rape to sink in, her anger turning to fear. Her heart raced and her breath came in short gasps as she clutched the sheet to her chin. That was close. So close. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, trembling. Jamie, help me.

I’m going to find you, she thought with fierce determination. Tonight.

Chapter 30

He heard her voice in the darkness. “Jamie?”

It’s her! “Fred? Fred, where are you?”

He became aware in a sparsely furnished room, a bedroom. He faced a washstand and a dresser and he was sitting on a bed. Fred was beside him.

“Jamie!” She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his neck, uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking.

“You finally found me,” he said into her hair, stroking her back reassuringly. “You’re alive!” he tried to pull back to look at her face, but she wouldn’t let go. “Oh, Fred...God, I’m so glad to see you. What happened?”

When she finally recovered enough to talk, she let go of his shoulders and took both of his hands in hers. “I was kidnapped by two witches! Two mean, wicked witches! And some man just tried to rape me! And —”

“Rape you?” His mouth dropped and his eyebrows lowered.

“He didn’t, but he almost did, and they’ve got me chained up, and they don’t hardly feed me, and —”

“Hold on, hold on.” He squeezed her hands. “Slow down and tell me everything.”

She looked him in the eyes and a little smile crossed her face. She kissed him quickly and said, “First things first.”

“Okay, we’ll have plenty of time later for more of that. Tell me what happened.”

Fred took a deep breath and recounted her ordeal. When she got to the part where she made her first spell, Jamie nodded. “That’s so cool, Fred. I knew you could do it. You’re a real witch!”

“Yeah, well, it’s not doing me much good right now.” She finished the rest of her story and then they regarded each other silently, still holding hands, basking in the faces that they’d both missed so terribly.

Jamie finally broke the silence. “I don’t like it that they’ve got you chained to a bed.” He narrowed his eyes. “But we’re gonna fix that. We have to get you out of here. Where are you? I can make a doorway and bring you home.”

“That’s just the problem.” Fred pressed her mouth tight. “Those women won’t tell me where we are, and I keep trying to get them to slip up and give it away, but they’re getting better at watching what they say. I guess they’re afraid I might get hold of one of their cell phones and call for help.” She shook her head. “I’m stuck. Nobody knows where I am. Nobody.”

“I’ll talk to my dad and he’ll figure out what to do.” Jamie looked around the room. “What’s out that window?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. I don’t hear anything except birds. No cars or lawnmowers or anything. I guess we’re out in the boonies somewhere.”

“Don’t worry about it. Dad will know what to do. I can’t wait to tell him. I can’t wait to tell everybody.”

“My parents?”

He winced. “It’s bad. Your mom’s having a real hard time right now. Your dad, too.” He looked at his lap as he spoke. “Everybody’s having a hard time. We were starting to think you might be dead.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“But you’re not!” He kissed her again. “You’re alive,” he said softly. “Everybody is going to be so happy. We’ve had tons of people out looking for you. You even made the news.”

“Melanie? And Bryce and Rollie?”

“They’re going crazy, too. They’re searching harder than anybody.”

“Tell them I’m okay. Do it today!”

“It’ll be Christmas morning.”

“Don’t care.”

“I’ll have to explain how I know.”

“Get Bryce and Melanie to do the oath, then. I don’t care what my parents say. I want my friends to know.”

“I’ll do it, then. I think your parents will be in a permissive mood right now.” He chuckled and nodded.

“I want you to tell my mom and dad as soon as you wake up, even if it’s three o’clock in the morning. Tell them! Please?”

“Don’t worry, I will. They won’t mind if I wake them up for this.”

She kissed him again and Jamie said, “Before you go...are you going to be able to find me again in a dream?”

“I can find you anywhere, now, I’m sure. Don’t you worry. You’ll be seeing me every night.”

“Good.” He put his hand to her cheek. “By the way, I met this old Cherokee guy today, and he said there’s a name for what you are. A Dream Talker.”

She frowned. “I kinda like Dream Fairy better.”

“Fine, as long as you can find me. We’re gonna bring you home, Fred.”

“I know.”

* * *

Jamie woke and it was still dark. He sat up and said, “She’s alive!” He threw back the covers and bolted from the bed and out into the hall. He rapped on his parents’ door and shouted, “She’s alive! Wake up! Fred’s alive!”

“Mmm?” he heard his father groan.

“Fred’s alive. She just contacted me in a dream.”

Then he heard his mother shriek, “Yes! Thank God!”

“She wants me to tell her parents right away.”

“Do that,” she said. “They won’t mind. Tell them we’ll be right over.”

Jamie ran back into his room and pulled on his slippers and bath robe, then he scrambled back out the door and flew down the stairs, magically, feet not touching a single step, only pausing at the bottom to push off from the wall to turn the corner that landed him in the front hall. He snatched open the front door and sprinted across the street to Fred’s house.

He rang their doorbell and waited, tapping his foot, his arms wrapped around his chest against the cold, his breath frosting in blue-gray clouds in the light of the street lamp. “Hurry up!” He rang again and beat on the door with his fist.

“All right, I’m coming,” he heard Larry say from inside. “Who is it?”

“Jamie!”

Larry, still in his pajamas, flicked the porch light on and yanked the door open, rubbing his bed-creased face, still in his pajamas. “Is it about Fred?”

A lump suddenly swelled in Jamie’s throat and he couldn’t talk, the surge of emotion too strong. He could only nod.

“She’s alive?”

Jamie nodded again and heard Lisa from the top of the stairs. “Jamie, is that you?”

Larry turned around and shouted. “Fred’s alive! She’s alive, Lisa.”

A sob escaped her as she ran down the stairs, brushing Larry aside and hugging Jamie tightly, crying into his shoulder as hard as Fred had earlier.

Larry grinned and said, “Well, it’s cold. Let’s get inside and close the door. Then you can tell us all about it.”

* * *

Jamie was sitting on the edge of the recliner, relating his encounter with Fred, when he took the cup from Lisa.

“Does everybody have coffee now?” Lisa looked around her living room.

“We’re good, Lisa,” Rachel said, sitting on the couch next to Carl and Larry, everyone still in their robes and slippers.

Lisa smiled as she sat down beside Larry. “It’s still dark out. This is like when you kids used to get us up early on Christmas morning.”

“I don’t mind,” Larry said. “This is worth it.”

Rachel frowned. “I still feel bad for Fred, though. Chained to a bed like an animal!”

“We might be able to do something about that,” Carl said, stroking his chin. “Jamie can learn to pick a lock and teach her how to do it in a dream.”

Jamie shook his head. “That would work if the witches would give her something besides plastic utensils.”

“Still, it’s something to think about. In the meantime, we need to figure out where she is. Next time you see her, ask her to pay attention to how the women are dressed. If they’re wearing bulky sweaters, they’re up north somewhere. If they’re wearing shorts, they could be in the South or in California. He tapped his cheek for a moment. “The birds...can she recreate bird songs in her dreams accurately? Then we might be able to tell what part of the country she’s in by the types of birds she hears. You can copy sounds, too, right?”

“Yeah, I have an app for that.” Jamie laughed. “A magic app. But she can make the bird sounds, I’m sure, among other things. She can make butterflies that look so real you can’t tell the difference. You can feel them on your finger.”

“She can do that?” Larry asked.

“She’s amazing. And she thinks that she’s a really powerful witch now, way stronger than the two that are holding her prisoner. She’s doing spells that normally takes a triad to make.”

“Oh great.” Larry rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. “The cat’s out of the bag now. She’ll never want to stop doing magic.”

“It was bound to happen anyway, Mr. Callahan. She can’t help what she is.”

Lisa stood and walked to the dark window, fingering the curtains as she spoke. “I don’t like this business of the triad thing and the blood bond. Tell Fred she absolutely must not do that. We could lose her forever.” She turned and looked at Jamie, her face lined with concern.

“I don’t know if it would matter, Mrs. Callahan. Fred’s already part of a triad.”

“What?”

“Me and Rollie and her. The Crew.”

“Oh.” She blinked at him. “I forgot about that.”

“Yeah, and we have a pretty strong bond. I don’t know if those ladies’ magic could override it.”

“It’s not worth the risk,” Carl said.

“No, of course not. Fred hates them too much to do it, anyway, and she said they can’t force her to do it because it won’t work unless she does it willingly. It does mean that she’s going to stay chained up until we can get her out of there.”

Larry shook his head and pressed his mouth into a grim line. “God, I hate those women for doing this to our little girl.”

Rachel put her hand on Larry’s shoulder. “We all do, Larry.”

There was a long moment of silence before Jamie said, “By the way, Fred wants me to tell Melanie and Bryce right away. And she wants me to tell them how I found out.”

Everyone looked at him silently for a moment. Larry sighed and said, “Fine. Get them to do the oath.”

Lisa sat down beside Rachel, a strange smile on her face. “I’m so happy right now...I’m giddy.”

“Me too, Lisa.” Rachel smiled. “So many emotions percolating in me right now.” She put her arm around Lisa’s shoulders and gave her a big squeeze. “This isn’t such a bad Christmas after all, is it?”

Chapter 31

Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle as Bryce and Melanie, kneeling around the coffee table with him and Rollie, gaped at their hands, watching the glow fade, their fingertips the last to dim.

Rollie laughed. “Boy, I never get tired of that!” He poked Bryce in the arm. “Feels cool, doesn’t it?”

Bryce looked at Jamie and lowered his eyebrows. “What in the heck was that?”

“It was magic, Bryce,” Rachel said, a smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. She stood nearby with Carl and her mother, Evelyn. Cory and Gina sat on the couch with Ray, Gina’s father. Gina, dressed in red pants and sweatshirt and a green Christmas vest, had her hand over her mouth and her eyes twinkled.

“No!” Bryce frowned. “What is it, really?”

Connie stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a small towel. “It’s really magic, Bryce.”

Melanie stood and stared at the Bible on the table. Then she looked around the room. “What is going on?”

Jamie stood, too. “We just made you do that oath because it’s magic and it’s binding. We need to tell you about why Fred was kidnapped and how I got in touch with her.”

“Or rather, how she got in touch with you,” Rollie said, standing and straightening his red flannel shirt.

“Right.” Bryce and Melanie looked at Jamie with expectant faces and he said, “I have magic power. Real magic. I’m a sorcerer. I’ve been in touch with Fred through our dreams and found out she’s been kidnapped by two women. Two witches.”

The room was silent as Bryce and Melanie stared at Jamie with incredulous looks on their faces.

“They don’t believe you,” Gina said. “Show them something.”

Jamie held his hands out and the yellow shimmer of his shield formed, then he gestured to make himself invisible.

“Cool!” Cory said.

“It’s just a trick,” Bryce said.

Jamie dropped his shield. “How about now?” He floated from the floor and paused about a foot in the air.

Bryce shook his head.

“Jamie, make the doorway to that other world with the three moons,” Gina said. “They’ll get it then.”

“It’s kinda cold there right now. I checked earlier in case it came to this.”

Cory sat up on the edge of the couch. “I agree with Gina. Bryce won’t be able to deny that!”

“Other world?” Melanie said weakly.

Jamie gave a little laugh and traced the outlines of the magic doorway. He pushed it open, revealing the rocky landscape beyond.

Melanie gasped and put her hand to her face while Bryce took a step backward. Rachel handed them their coats, and they accepted them without taking their eyes off the surreal vista Jamie had revealed.

Rollie sat on the couch next to Cory, leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “I think I’ll sit this one out. Ya’ seen one three moon world, ya’ seen ’em all.” He looked at Evelyn. “Mrs. Wallace, did you make any Christmas cookies?”

* * *

Jamie took off his coat in the family room as the doorway winked out behind him. Bryce stared numbly at the space where the doorway had been while Melanie looked at the faces around Jamie’s family room. “All this time?” she said. “He’s been a real magician and we didn’t know it?”

“Sorcerer.” Jamie shook his head. “I’m a sorcerer, not a magician.”

“Sorcerers do real magic,” Gina and Cory said in unison, then laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Melanie frowned.

“He’s sensitive about that,” Gina said.

“Hmph.” Bryce stared at the floor for a moment before looking at Jamie. “Why did you have Rollie do the oath with us if he’s known about this for so long?”

“I think it strengthens the magic and makes the oath more binding,” Jamie said. “You can understand why we don’t want you to tell anyone.”

“But if you have all this power, why not just go get Fred and bring her home? With that thing.” Bryce gestured to where the doorway had been.

“I told you, we don’t know where she is. The witches won’t tell her.”

Melanie plopped in a wooden armchair beside the Christmas tree. “Witches, sorcerers, magic...wow.” She gave a little nervous laugh. “It’s overwhelming.” Her awed expression turned thoughtful. “But if Fred really is a witch, and she can visit Jamie in dreams, can she get into the witches’ dreams, too?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“What if she were to give them nightmares? I mean, really bad ones, all night long After a couple nights of that, they’d be so sleep deprived that they might make a mistake and give away their location.”

Carl, who was sitting on the armrest of the couch, nodded. “That might work.”

Jamie frowned. “She’ll need to be careful. Those witches are already hurting her with that voodoo doll. Who knows what they’d do if they’re exhausted?”

“It seems like Fred’s best bet right now,” Bryce said. “Unless she can find a spell in one of those magic books that’ll unlock the chain on her ankle.”

“I don’t think there is one,” Jamie said. “I could do it,” — he snapped his fingers — “like that, ’cause I’m a sorcerer, but witches don’t have that kind of power. They have power over people and...nature, I guess.”

“Organic things,” Melanie said. “I bet she can make love potions.” And she glanced at Bryce, who was looking the other way.

“Right.” Jamie studied Melanie for a moment. Why’d she look at Bryce like that?

Carl rubbed his jaw. “Jamie, in the meantime, tell Fred not to try anything crazy. She’s alive, and we want to keep her that way.”

Rollie brushed cookie crumbs from his shirt. “Well, I think I’m gonna head home. I could use a nap.”

“Rollie?” Melanie said. “Are you excited about the big Talent Search contest this Saturday?”

Rollie shrugged as he stood. “Not really. I might not go.”

“What?” Jamie said.

“I don’t want to go if Fred’s not going.” He picked up his coat from the back of a nearby chair. “I’ll give it ’till Wednesday, and if she’s not home by then, I’m going to back out.”

“But what about the prize money?” Bryce said. “I thought you were hoping to use that for college.”

“Well, there’s no guarantee I’d win anyway. If I have to, I can live at home next year and work part-time and go to the community college.”

Bryce put his hand on Rollie’s shoulder. “Whatever you gotta do, Dude. But I still think you ought to do the talent show.”

“Nah. Not without Fred.” Rollie gave a little wave and left.

* * *

Jamie smiled at Fred as soon as her form materialized beside him. “Merry Christmas.” He kissed her. “I didn’t bring your present.”

Fred laughed. “That’s okay, since you can’t, anyway.” She grabbed his hands. “Did you tell my parents? And Melanie and Bryce?”

“Your parents are happy and thrilled that you’re alive.” Then he told her about his afternoon with Melanie and Bryce.

“Wish I could’ve seen the looks on their faces!” Fred smiled.

“They were stunned, to say the least.” He gave her hands a little shake. “Did you make any potions or anything today?”

“No. Rita and Cassandra ignored me most of the day. But they did give me a new box of Pop Tarts. I guess that was my Christmas present.”

“But you didn’t get them anything,” he said drily.

“I’d like to give them something.” She let go of one of Jamie’s hands and made a fist, scowling as she did. Fred’s face grew serious. “I’ve been scouring those spell books to see if I can find something useful in them, and I think I did. It’s a counter-charm to the knockout powder they used on me.”

“How are you going to make that if the women are always with you when you’re working?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet. But I memorized the recipe — the formula, as you would call it — in case the opportunity arises. I am not going to get knocked out by those hags again. I hate it. Makes me feel awful.”

“Mmm.” He fingered his lower lip. “Oh, by the way, Melanie had a good idea about how to get the witches to tell you where you are. Can you get into their dreams?”

“Ew!” She made a face. “What for?”

“To give ’em nightmares. Keep ’em awake for a few nights and they’ll slip up, I bet.”

“I’m pretty sure I can do it, but it’s so...gross.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Think of it as a way to get even with them for torturing you with that doll.”

Her face brightened. “Wouldn’t mind doing that.” She narrowed her eyes and nodded. “But not tonight. It’s Christmas.” She put her arms around his neck and looked at him suggestively.

“Fred, I’ve been thinking.”

“Think later. Kiss now.”

“No, hear me out, before I forget. You know how you believe you’re a lot more powerful than those other two witches? And we were thinking that it’s because you got some of my magic when our mom’s touched bellies when they were pregnant and all that?”

“And playing in your yard, too. I probably absorbed some of Eddan’s magic there.”

“Right. Let’s suppose you did, but....” He held up one finger. “Suppose, just suppose, that you were born to be a witch. That you were already a witch before our moms even met.”

“Huh? That’s nuts.”

“I don’t think so. We can assume now that a certain percentage of witches naturally occur in the human population and —”

She put a finger to his lips. “No geek-talk, please.”

“Okay. But witches are born naturally, anyway, like Rita and Cassandra, right? So think about what our moms said about the time they met in Lamaze class. You and I started kicking in their wombs like crazy before they even touched.”

“Like we wanted to meet each other. That’s what my mom said.”

“I think that you were already a witch and I was a sorcerer, and we sensed each other’s magic when our moms got us close together. That’s why we kicked so hard.”

Fred gave a little shrug. “Could be.”

“And you absorbed more magic when our moms touched and from playing in my back yard and stuff. You got an extra helpin’ of magic mojo!” He grinned. “That’s why you’re stronger than the average witch.”

Fred pursed her lips and looked at the opposite wall. “Maybe. Just maybe.” She looked at Jamie. “I overheard Rita tell Cassandra that she thinks I may be stronger than the voodoo queen that gave them the doll.”

“Wow. What are the chances of a sorcerer and a witch being boyfriend and girlfriend? Wonder what the odds are.”

She dragged her fingertip slowly along the edge of his jaw. “Did you ever stop to think that it wasn’t chance at all? That maybe we were fated to be together? Hmm?”

“You mean, like there’s a higher power involved?”

“Just giving you a little something to think about, Mr. Science.”

Chapter 32

Fred’s nose itched and she rubbed it with the back of her hand to suppress the sneeze she felt coming on. Dust and bits of herbs littered the table in front of her, and the particles that had become airborne had found their way into her eyes, forcing her to blink constantly as they watered.

“You need to work faster, Fred,” Rita said, sitting on the other side of the folding table with Cassandra.

“I’m going as fast as I can.” Fred pressed the pestle into the mortar. “Why don’t you get a food processor or something if you want to make big batches of this stuff?”

“You still need to connect magically with it. I don’t think you can do that with a food processor.”

Fred had connected with the spells so many times, she barely thought about it anymore as she worked. It was automatic. “I — can — certainly — try,” she grunted as she ground. She stopped and shook her hand. “I’m getting a cramp. How many have I made?”

Cassandra counted the little plastic zip-top bags in front of her. “Twenty-seven. Only...uh....”

“Twenty-three to go,” Rita finished for her.

“How did you get so many orders for love powder?” Fred said, dumping the contents of the dark green ceramic mortar into the white bowl beside her.

“We did a website like you said. Percy made it for us.” Rita proudly held up a bag and waved it at Fred. “We got almost fifty orders for these on the first day. The very first day! You were right.”

“Percy...that’s Geraldine’s son? He knows how to set up a web store?”

“Yep. He’s a smart kid.”

So much for my getting access to a computer.

“Now you got a lot of work to do,” Cassandra said, sealing another bag. “Can you hurry so we can finish by supper?”

Me and my big mouth. I’ll be doing this all afternoon, looks like. Fred dropped the pestle and picked up one of the little bags from the pile on the table. “Where’d you get these little things, anyway? They’re kinda cute, like mini-sandwich bags.”

“Big Dan orders them in bulk. It’s what he sells his cocaine in.”

Cocaine. Great. We’re strolling down Lowlife Lane, now. She set the bag down beside her.

“But that Percy did a great job on our site, I think,” Cassandra said. “Geraldine suggested we change the name of the spell to amore powder. For marketing purposes.” She cackled. “Marketing. Us. Who’d a’ thought? We’re gonna be big-time, now.”

And my hand is gonna fall off. Fred eyed the pile of bags. Those might come in handy. I need something to put the knockout powder or the counter charm in if I ever get the chance to make them. When Rita and Cassandra weren’t looking, Fred snuck an empty little bag from the table and tucked it under her thigh. Then she quickly picked up the mortar and pestle again.

Fred finished another batch and handed the white bowl to Rita, who dumped its contents onto a sheet of paper, then tilted the paper and tapped the powder into a zip-top bag that Cassandra held open for her. I’m doing most of the work here, Fred thought angrily. “This is really inefficient,” Fred said. “If you’re not going to get a food processor, then at least get a bigger mortar and pestle. And if you set up another table, this one wouldn’t be so crowded.”

Rita surveyed the cluttered work surface. “Maybe we could get a card table, Cass. You and I could work on that and Fred could make the powders on this one.”

“Maybe one of you could help make the powders and you could get Geraldine or somebody to help package them,” Fred said.

“We won’t be bringing anybody over to help, at least not until you do the blood bond. We don’t want anybody knowing you’re here.”

Cassandra added another full bag to the pile. “You ready to do the bond today?”

Fred glanced at her but didn’t answer.

“I thought so,” Rita said. She pulled the doll from her pocket.

“What’s that for?” Fred said. “I didn’t do anything.”

Rita grabbed the pin and stuck it into the doll’s leg. “Ow!” Fred yelped as she grabbed her thigh. It was all she could do to keep from jerking her leg up and revealing the bag. That hurts! She kept it hidden by a terrific act of willpower, her teeth gritted against the pain.

Rita withdrew the pin and said, “Every day you refuse to do the bond, we’re gonna stick the doll. We’re tired of dealing with you being chained up and having to take care of you.”

You’re tired of it? Fred wanted to scream. How do you think I feel?

“So,” Rita continued, “if you don’t want to keep getting hurt, you might want to think about doing the blood bond.”

Fred glared at her and massaged her thigh. And you might want to start being nice to me, because when my boyfriend finds me, he’s gonna turn you into a toad. No, you already are one. A pig. A big fat pig... with phony red hair.

They had to stop working when they ran out of Adam and Eve root. They’d only filled forty-five bags, and Rita griped as they packed up for the day.

Cassandra rubbed her lower back when they finished putting the herbs in the box. “Rita, let’s just leave this stuff in here. I’m tired of hauling it back and forth.”

Rita and Cassandra dragged the table to the far corner next to the window. Then they set the box on it and Rita brushed her hands together and scanned the room. “We’re done here. Fred. It’s Cassandra’s night to babysit you, so she’ll be doing dinner.” She barked a short, ugly laugh. “What’s on the menu tonight, Cass?” she asked as they walked out.

“I don’t know, Rita. I’ll have to ask the chef.”

They closed the door and Fred scowled. I hate them. I hate them I hate them I hate them! “Argh!” She waited until their footsteps died away before grabbing the little bag she’d hidden under her leg and slipping it under her mattress.

She looked at the table and the box full of herbs on the other side of the room, just out of reach, her chain too short. So near but so far. I think a couple of ingredients I used today are in the knockout powder recipe, or the counter charm. Can’t remember.

She picked up one of the spell books from the bedside table and began flipping through the pages. I need to find out and make sure. Never know when I’ll get a chance to steal the ingredients. She thought about the little bag under her mattress. Should’ve taken two. One for the knockout powder and one for the counter charm.

Fred pictured herself pulling the little bag full of powder from under her mattress when the witches weren’t looking. Then Fred would dump some into her hand and blow it at them, a surprised look on their faces as they collapsed on the floor, a look Fred would savor gleefully.

I’ll knock them out, grab the key to the ankle cuff, and get out of here. I don’t want to wait for them to slip up and tell me where I am. I want to go home now. Right this second.

She sat on the edge of the bed and ruthlessly scanned the pages of the magic book for the spells she needed.

* * *

Jamie appeared on the bed beside her and she kissed him before he could say hello. “They hurt me again!”

Jamie’s face grew hard. “Again? Did you do something to make them mad?”

“No. Rita said they’re gonna do it every day until I give in and do the blood bond.”

“You won’t do that, though.”

“Of course not.”

“Does it hurt a lot when they stick the doll?”

“Does sticking a knife deep into your thigh hurt?”

“I imagine. Is that what it feels like?”

Fred nodded, mouth pressed tight. “I want to hurry up and start giving them nightmares, so don’t get mad if I make our visit short.”

“I don’t blame you.” He exhaled heavily. “Are you sure you can do this without getting tired?”

“I’ll be fresh as a daisy in the morning. I’m the Dream Fairy, remember?”

Jamie laughed. “Before you go, I need to tell you...your mom wants you to try and talk to her in a dream. She misses you really bad.”

“I don’t know if I can find her, she’s so far away and all. I think I found you because we already have such a strong bond.”

“I’ll tell her you’ll try.”

“Good.” She put her hand on his arm. “Tell her I love and I miss her and I’ll see her soon. My dad, too.” She kissed Jamie lightly and wiggled her fingers goodbye.

Fred let Jamie go and slipped back into the realm of dreams, searching for the witches. Fred quickly found Rita’s slumbering consciousness, a red glowing form in the darkness, and circled it as she pondered what nightmare to conjure. The chased-by-the-ferocious-dog dream, Fred thought with a satisfied smile.

And I know just the dog for it.

Fred called up a long, open grassy field. At the far end stood a tree, with an upright ladder beside it, leaning against a stout branch. Fred willed her body into the shape of a gargantuan Rottweiler — good ’ol Ralphie — the scariest-looking dog Fred had ever known, only she exaggerated the jaws and turned her teeth into monstrous fangs, with wicked-looking spittle dripping from the sharp tips, for good measure.

Wish I could see myself in a mirror. Bet I make a fierce dog.

Then she dropped Rita into the scene, a few yards ahead. Rita’s eyes grew wide with fright when she saw the Fred-Rottweiler. Fred snarled. Rita yelped and bolted for the tree. Fred gave her a few steps head start, then bellowed a bloodthirsty howl and raced after her.

Rita shrieked as Fred’s jaws snapped at her bare heels. This is too easy. I need to ratchet up the panic some. Fred willed the grass to turn into soft sand under Rita’s feet, and Rita nearly fell as she stumbled on toward the safety of the tree. Fred chased her, barely a terrifying step behind, and let Rita get all the way to the ladder and pull herself up on a rung before clamping razor-sharp jaws on Rita’s bare heel. Rita screamed.

Now to start the whole thing over.

They were back at the other end of the field, Rita only a few steps ahead of Fred, the monster canine. Fred barked thunderously and charged. Rita shrieked and ran for the tree through the sand again. When they reached the ladder, Fred reset the dream, then did it again, and yet again. After the sixth or seventh time, Fred let the dream dissolve. That’s enough for now. She should be awake for a while. Now it’s time to harass Cassandra.

She found Cassandra’s sleeping form nearby and circled it, considering what nightmare to call forth. I know she’s deathly afraid of being abandoned by her mother. But Fred couldn’t bring herself to do that. I’m not that mean. What to do... Drowning! That’s a good one.

She put Cassandra in an enclosed steel cylindrical tank that was just wide enough for her to touch the walls with her arms extended and barely tall enough for her to stand upright. A dim light appeared at the ceiling. Cold water rushed in at Cassandra’s bare feet and she gasped in surprise. “Hello?” Cassandra called. “Anybody out there?”

The water rose to her knees, then to her waist. Colder, Fred thought. Ice cold. Cassandra shivered and banged on the side of the enclosure. “Help! Somebody. Anybody!”

The water reached her shoulders and Cassandra screamed. It rose to her chin and she had to tilt her head back to breathe, gasping into the small gap between her face and the ceiling. The water closed over Cassandra’s nostrils and Fred reset the dream, over and over.

After the seventh repetition, Fred stopped it and let it fade. That’s good, Fred thought. Time to torment Rita again.

Chapter 33

Jamie sat on the armrest of the sofa in his family room, feeling useless and ignored, watching Bryce and Melanie huddled over the computer in the corner. Melanie stood with her hands on the back of Bryce’s chair. She leaned forward and pointed at the screen. “There. Change that search filter.”

Bryce tapped the keys and said, “Jamie, did Fred tell you anything else that might help us?”

“No, just that she’s pretty sure she’s somewhere in the South. The witches have Southern accents and they dress in light-weight clothes.”

Then his friends ignored him again as they became wrapped up in searching blogs and newsgroups for any mention of Fred.

Rachel came out of the kitchen and watched them work for a moment before saying, “Do you kids want some lunch?”

“I do,” Jamie said. “I gotta go to work soon. So does Bryce.”

“Bryce? Melanie?” she said.

“Hmm?” Bryce looked over his shoulder. “Oh, hi Mrs. Sikes.”

“Do you want some lunch? I can make some sandwiches.”

“Sure, that’d be great. I gotta go to work soon.”

“I already said that,” Jamie grumbled.

“None for me, thanks,” Melanie said.

“Melanie,” Rachel said, “how’s your boyfriend?”

“Michael? He’s fine,” she replied without taking her eyes from the computer screen.

“Is he in town?”

“I think so.”

“You don’t know?” Jamie asked, but she didn’t answer. She had shifted her hand to Bryce’s shoulder and he only glanced at her before turning his attention back to his task.

Jamie scowled. They don’t even know I’m here. I might as well be invisible.

“Dang.” Bryce drummed his fingers on the desk top. “Internet’s slow today.”

“That’s because it’s the holidays and a lot of people are using it,” Melanie said.

“Jamie?” Bryce turned again. “Can you help us out?”

“Sure.” Jamie stood and went to the desk, put his hand on the modem and closed his eyes, sending his will into the cyber world. A few seconds later, the web page they wanted appeared on the screen.

“Thanks, buddy. That’s a useful talent you have.” Then Bryce and Melanie proceeded to ignore Jamie again.

“Glad to be of service,” Jamie muttered.

Melanie sighed. “We’re not going to have enough time today. We’ll probably have to start over.”

Bryce glanced at his watch. “You know what? I’m gonna call into work and see if they can get somebody to cover for me. Then I can keep searching.”

“I can too.” Melanie patted his shoulder.

“Mrs. Sikes?” Bryce called. “Is it okay if we keep working for awhile?”

“Of course,” she replied from the kitchen. “Stay as long as you like.”

“And I’ll just be on my way to work,” Jamie said, but no one heard him.

* * *

Cassandra grunted as she dragged the folding table across Fred’s room, a magazine tucked under one arm. Though she wasn’t smoking, she reeked of cigarettes.

“Where’s Rita?” Fred asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, using her index finger to massage her sore ankle underneath the metal cuff.

“She had to go buy us some more supplies. We’re completely out of a couple of things. Adam and Eve root, for one.”

“Where’d she go?” Fred asked innocently.

“She drove up to....” She stopped and shook a finger at Fred. “Oh no you don’t. You’re trying to trick me.”

“But you’re too smart for that.” Dang. She almost said it.

“Of course.” Cassandra put the table next to the bed and unfolded a chair on the other side.

“Since Rita’s not here, can I sit in a chair too? My back hurts when I sit on the bed so long.”

Cassandra regarded Fred with a snap of her gum. “Okay. But don’t get too used to it.” She fetched the other chair from the corner and gave it to Fred, who pushed the table out from the bed to make room for it.

Fred sat down and said, “That’s more like it.” She rubbed her hands together. “Now, what are we making today?”

“Knockout powder.” Cassandra dragged the cardboard box close to her feet and pulled out a handful of clear plastic bags full of herbs.

Fred’s heart leapt. Knockout powder! She wanted to clap her hands with glee.

“But don’t get any big ideas.” Cassandra gave her a hard look. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ll have my eye on you all day.”

“Then why make it if you don’t trust me? Let’s make something else.” Please don’t agree to that.

“We got a lot of orders for it and we have enough stuff to make it.” She pulled out another bag from the box and inspected it closely, thumping it with one red- enameled fingernail as she gauged its contents. “Just barely enough. We’re out of most everything else.”

Fred’s mind raced as she considered the incredible opportunity that had just dropped into her lap. How am I gonna sneak some without her noticing? She remembered the little bag under the mattress. I can put the powder in that little thing, if I can get to it. Now I wish I was sitting on the bed instead of this chair.

Cassandra pointed to the stack of spell books on the bedside table. “The recipe is in that top cookbook right there.” She grunted a laugh. “Cookbook. Seems like what we’re doing, don’t it? Cookin’?”

“It’s like a cross between chemistry and cooking.” Fred accepted the mortar and pestle as Cassandra handed it across the table. “My chemistry teacher said that cooking is just chemistry with food.”

“You took chemistry? Never got that far.”

Fred paused for a moment, mortar in one hand, pestle in the other. I’m doing chemistry. Magic chemistry. She almost laughed aloud. If Mrs. Middleton could see me now! She pictured her teacher standing beside Fred in class, observing the mixing of the magical ingredients and commenting on Fred’s technique, all of the students in white lab coats and safety goggles.

“Fred, you okay?”

Fred blinked hard. “Just thinking.” She opened the heavy, red leather bound spell book on the table at her left elbow and flipped through it until she found the page she wanted. Then she began measuring and grinding, measuring and grinding. While Fred worked, Cassandra read her fashion magazine and snapped her gum until Fred finished grinding an herb. But Fred wasn’t allowed to mix the ingredients herself, but instead only worked with one at a time. Fred would grind an herb, then pass Cassandra the mortar. Cassandra would dump the contents into the white bowl, and when the spell was complete, pour the finished mixture into a little zip-top bag, seal it, and put it out of Fred’s reach. At no time in the process did Fred have access to the finished product. Cassandra might be dumb, but I guess she’s not that dumb, Fred thought sourly.

Fred eyed the little bag full of powerful magic. There it is. My ticket to freedom. How am I gonna get one without Cassandra noticing? Fred measured and ground an herb for another batch, thinking hard. As she tipped the contents of the mortar into the white bowl, she had an idea. She glanced at Cassandra to make sure she wasn’t watching, then tapped a little of the powder onto the table. I always spill a little anyway. Maybe she won’t notice.

Fred finished another batch, tapped out more of the pulverized grayish-green herb onto the table, and handed the rest to Cassandra, who filled a bag and returned to her magazine. Fred appraised the spilled mix before her. I don’t know how much to spill. I can’t measure it. I’ll just have to guess and hope it’s enough.

Cassandra yawned and stretched. “I’m tired.”

Fred looked up from her task. “Have trouble sleeping?”

“Had nightmares all night.” She yawned again. “I could use a nap.”

Fred smiled to herself and turned back to her work.

They continued for another hour before Cassandra stretched and said, “I gotta use the little girl’s room.” She laid her magazine on the end of the table and stood, grabbed the bags of finished spells and set them in the far corner of the room, out of Fred’s reach. “Just so you don’t get any ideas.” Then she pulled the herbs off the table and set them back in the box. “That’s so you can’t make any while I’m gone.”

Fred watched her leave and her pulse raced. Now’s my chance! She waited until she heard the bathroom door close before kneeling beside the bed and slipping her hand under the mattress. Her probing fingers found the little bag and she retrieved it. She scanned the contents of the table. How am I going to get the powder into the bag?

Cassandra’s magazine! She grabbed it and flipped through its pages until she found the subscription renewal card. Perfect. Fred tore it free. She held the little bag just below the edge of the table with one hand, and with the white card in the other, she scraped the powder into a pile. She heard the toilet flush and felt her heart hammer in her chest.

Take your time Cassandra. Check your makeup or something. Fred scratched the last of the powder into the bag just as she heard the bathroom door open. She zipped the bag closed and jammed it under the mattress, then, seeing the white card in her other hand she thought, This might come in handy. She stuck it under the mattress, too, sat back in the folding chair and smoothed her features as best she could.

“Whew. All better,” Cassandra said as she entered the room. “Too much coffee this morning.”

“I think it’s afternoon,” Fred said.

“Whatever. Let’s get back to work so we can finish in time for me to watch my show.”

Fred returned to her chore, but found it difficult to concentrate. Her mind was on the little bag of knockout powder, safely stashed behind her under the mattress.

When they finally finished, Cassandra held up the last bag and smiled. “Twenty-five. That’s good for one afternoon.” She poured some of the powder into her palm and inspected it closely. “Looks like the real deal. Want to see?”

She held her hand close and Fred leaned over, but before she could react, Cassandra blew the powder into Fred’s face. Fred coughed and blinked her eyes as they burned. “What did you do that for?” Fred said between coughs.

“To test it. We need to see if it works. Can’t be selling inferior spells, can we?”

“I hate you,” Fred managed to mumble as the room started spinning. Then everything went black.

* * *

It was nearly dark when Fred woke with a groan, lying on her side on the bed. “Oh, my head.” She sat up and rubbed her temples with her fingertips.

Cassandra appeared in the open doorway. “Thought I heard something in here. Are you awake?”

“Yes, no thanks to you.”

“Sorry about that, but it was your first attempt at that spell and I needed to be sure it worked.” She made a flat smile that didn’t extend to her eyes. “By the way, I searched you while you were out to make sure you didn’t steal any of the powder.”

“Didn’t find any, did you?” Fred challenged her with a glare.

“No.” Cassandra grunted a small laugh. “Now, are you ready to do the blood bond? I’m supposed to ask.”

Fred scowled. “After what you just did? Give me a break.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Cassandra pulled the white doll from her pocket, withdrew the pin from its sash and jabbed it into its lower leg.

“Ouch!” Fred grabbed her ankle.

Cassandra pulled the pin out, shrugged and left. Fred stared at the vacant doorway. God, I hate you. I can’t wait ’till tonight. I’ll have a special nightmare for you...you...horrible thing.

Chapter 34

The next day, the two witches put Fred back to work. Fred, sitting on her usual spot on the edge of the bed, turned off the food processor and pulled out the gray plastic cup full of finely ground amaranth. She handed it to Rita, who inspected it with a professional eye before nodding. “Looks good,” the red-headed witch said, then dumped it into a new, larger ceramic bowl, bright yellow and glossy. “Now do the rest of the spell. Are you keeping track of the amounts?”

“I did the math,” Fred said. “I’m multiplying each ingredient times five.”

“Whatever, as long as you can keep it straight. We gotta test the first batch, though. Never made healing powder with a kitchen appliance before.” She and Cassandra both cackled like fat hens, supremely confident they would not end up on the farmer’s dinner plate.

You weren’t laughing a minute ago, Fred thought. You and Cassandra were fussing. They’d argued quite a bit before coming into Fred’s room. She’d heard them clearly, even with her door closed.

Cassandra, sitting on a folding chair, legs crossed, put down her magazine and yawned cavernously. “I had the worst dreams last night. Dreamed I was trapped in a burning building.” She shuddered and grunted.

“Me too,” Rita said. “Only I had the same dream I had the night before, where I was being chased by a huge dog with giant fangs. Ever had that one?”

“I have,” Fred lied, feeling her face grow warm. “Many times.” She closed the cup tightly in the processor and flipped the switch, holding it firmly as it vibrated and hummed beneath her hand. “Been having a lot of nightmares lately.” That’ll throw them off. Don’t want them getting suspicious.

“Maybe it’s the water or something,” Cassandra said, yawning again. “Or the moon.”

Fred turned off the processor and pulled out the cup, dumping its contents into the bowl. “That’s the last one for this spell.”

Rita picked up the bowl, poured it into the big yellow one, and stirred it with a plastic spoon. “Hand me a jar of petroleum jelly, Cass.”

Cassandra did, and Rita opened it and dumped some of the mixed powder into it. Then she blended it with a popsicle stick. “That’s good. Let’s try it.”

Fred scurried to the far edge of the bed, the chain clanking as it followed her. “Not on me!”

Rita laughed. “Don’t worry. I cut my leg shaving this morning.” She dipped out a bit of the green goo from the jar, bent and dabbed it on her leg. Cassandra looked, too. Fred stayed safely on the far side of the bed. “Yep.” Rita said. “Works good.” She sat up and set the jar on the floor. “Now you need to make about seven more batches like that, Fred.”

“Are you going to sell it in those big jars?” Fred asked.

“No. Got something better. I picked up a bunch of these yesterday.” She reached into a box on the floor and pulled out a travel-sized, clear squeeze bottle. “Cute, huh?”

“How are you going to get the stuff in there?”

“Thought of that.” Rita held up a plastic pastry syringe. “With this.”

“See, Fred?” Cassandra said. “You’re not the only smart one around here.”

Fred let that comment go. “How are you going to get the gel into that thing?” Fred said.

Rita smacked Cassandra on the upper arm with the back of her hand. “Hand me that other big measuring spoon.” Rita pulled the plunger from the syringe, took the spoon from Cassandra, and dipped out a blob of the thick healing mixture. Then she pressed it into the opening of the syringe, but it smeared over the sides, little making it inside. “Damn.” Rita scraped at the uncooperative green mess. “This’ll take all day.”

“Lemme try.” Cassandra reached for the syringe, but Rita turned her body away, then stood, banging the leg of the table as she did.

“Dammit, Cass. Look what you made me do. Almost knocked the table over.”

“Well, it ain’t working, Rita,” Cassandra snapped. “Give it to me.”

“Heat it,” Fred said. Both women turned and looked at her blankly.

“What for?” Rita asked.

“It’ll soften the jelly...lower its viscosity.” They don’t know what that word means. “It’ll flow easier.”

Rita sat down again. “How’re we gonna heat it without melting the plastic?”

“You can get a pot of hot water and put the jars of jelly in it for a few minutes until they get soft enough. In fact, you can use your little Sterno stove to keep the pot warm.”

“That’ll work.” Cassandra nodded. “I’ll get the pot of water and the Sterno.”

* * *

Fred watched as Cassandra gingerly pulled the jar of finished healing jelly out of the water on the floor beside her. She quickly dropped it on the table and shook her hand. “Ooh! It’s kinda hot.”

Rita opened it with a paper towel to protect her hands, then she dipped out some jelly with the spoon and smeared it into the syringe. It easily flowed inside. Rita nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Good. Gimme one of those little squeeze bottles.”

Cassandra handed her one of the clear empty tubes and Rita twisted the top off. Then she put the plunger back in the syringe, set the tip into the bottle, and pressed the plunger with her thumb. The green gel squeezed through the nozzle and into the little tube. Rita held it up triumphantly. “Ta da! That’s twenty-five dollars’ worth of magic right there.” She screwed the top back on the tube. She looked at the jar. “And there are about fifteen tube’s worth in there. So that’s....”

“Three hundred and seventy-five dollars,” Fred said, rubbing her cheek with one finger. “Kinda plain, though. Needs a label.” Again, she got blank looks from the women.

“How’re we gonna do that,” Cassandra said.

Fred shrugged. “You can make ’em on a computer. Does your friend Percy have a printer?”

“Think so.”

“Well, there you go. You can pick up inkjet printer labels from the office supply store and he can make ’em in about ten minutes. You can put your logo on them and everything. You do have a logo, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Rita said. “It’s got a silhouette of three witches flying on broomsticks across a full moon, ’cause we call our business Three Witches. Get it? Three witches on broomsticks?”

“Got it,” Fred said. More like two witches and a slave. “Did you put your address on your site so people can mail in orders?”

“No. We don’t people to know where we are. Credit card orders, only.”

Too bad. Jamie could find it online and come get me. “Do witches really fly on brooms?”

“No.” Cassandra laughed. “Nobody can do that.”

Jamie can, and I can too, if I’m holding his hand. We can even dance in the sky. Like to see you try that. Fred felt a pang of sadness when she pictured herself high in the air of the three moon world, arms around Jamie, dancing cheek to cheek like they often did. No chain on her ankle.

“All right.” Rita set the little tube down. “Let’s finish up ’cause you gotta make fifty amore powders after this, Fred.”

“You’re kidding,” Fred groaned. “I’ll be working all night.”

“No you won’t. Not with that food processor.”

Fred crossed her arms. “I’d rather not. I’m getting tired.” Rita pulled the doll out of her pocket, but Fred said, “Don’t care. Go ahead and stick me. You’re gonna do it anyway.”

Rita rubbed her chin as she studied Fred’s determined face. “Okay, how about this? If you make the amore powder, I won’t ask you about the blood bond today.”

Fred eyed the doll for a moment. “All right.”

* * *

When Fred finished making the healing powder, she opened the magic book to the page for the love spell. She was immediately struck by something about the list of ingredients. It’s got three of the herbs that are in the counter charm to the knockout powder. Three out of five. She glanced at the two women across the table, who were showing signs of boredom and fatigue, fidgeting in their chairs, checking their nails and dozing. Cassandra stood and stretched. “I’m going to take a cigarette break, Rita. It don’t take two of us to package that stuff.” She left the room and Fred felt a little surge of optimism when Rita yawned and picked up Cassandra’s magazine.

But it’s only three out of five ingredients, Fred thought as she opened the first bag of herbs for the spell. I can always save them and hope I get a chance to steal the other two some other time. She ground the dried leaves in the food processor, and when she took the cup out, she tapped some of the powder on the table, just as she’d done the day before. Fred looked over at Rita. Good. She’s not paying attention.

Fred finished the first batch and Rita packaged it into the little bags. Then Cassandra came back as Fred started the next batch, and Rita left for a smoke. Fred spilled more powder.

Cassandra paid even less attention to Fred than Rita did. When Cassandra’s eyes started closing and her chin dropped to her chest, Fred quietly leaned over and stuck her hand under the mattress. She pulled out the little card she’d stashed there, and used it to scrape the spilled powder into a pile.

What am I going to put it in? Cassandra stirred and Fred held the card under the edge of the table, brushing the powder onto it with her finger. Then she hurriedly folded it around the powder and slipped it back under the mattress. That’ll have to do until I can steal a bag.

Cassandra cleared her throat and blinked hard. “You ain’t through, yet?”

Fred sighed. “No. I was taking a little break. I’m tired.”

“Well hurry up and finish. I wanna get out of here.”

Not as badly as I do.

Rita came back and they finished the fifty orders. As the women packed up for the day, Rita said, “Fred, you ready to do the blood bond?” She pulled the voodoo doll from her dress pocket.

“You said I didn’t have to!” Fred scooted to the far side of the bed in panic.

“I lied. Blood bond...yes or no?”

“No!”

Rita jammed the pin into the doll’s middle and Fred collapsed, holding her stomach, writhing in agony.

Rita watched her for a minute before withdrawing the pin. “Tomorrow I’m going to ask you twice. The next day it’ll be three times, and so on. It’s time for you to join us. Do the bond, Fred.”

Never! Fred glared at them silently until they finally left.

* * *

Rachel sat at Lisa’s kitchen table, watching her poke her fork at the mostly uneaten cheesecake in front of her. “How was your first day back at work?”

“Okay,” Lisa replied. “Everybody was really nice to me. They chipped in and bought me a big bouquet of flowers.”

Rachel gestured at Lisa’s plate. “You’re not eating that.”

“I ate some lunch.”

Rachel regarded her friend, who had always been at least fifteen to twenty pounds overweight for as long as Rachel had known her, always starting a new diet. Now her cheeks stood out, her neck looked thin and her eyes were hollow and dark. “How much, Lisa?”

“Half an egg salad sandwich.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow and Lisa said, “Well, almost half.”

“If you don’t start eating better we’re going to have to put you in the hospital. I’m more worried about you than Fred. At least she’s eating.”

“Pop Tarts and peanut butter! That’s okay for a four-year-old once in a while, but....” Her lip trembled again.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay. She’s fine. She’ll be home soon. Let’s make sure she doesn’t come home to find her mom sick in bed.” She pointed at the cheesecake. “Eat.”

“Everything is just so hard right now.” Lisa sighed. “I was so happy when Fred finally got in touch with Jamie on Christmas Eve, but now we’re back to where we were. She’s still a prisoner, and they’re hurting her.” She bent her head and rubbed her eyes with one hand. “Every night before I go to sleep, I go into Fred’s room and flick on the light and...and I see her empty bed. It’s just awful, Rachel,” she said, her voice breaking. “Just awful.”

Rachel took a deep breath but didn’t know what to say. Lisa sat back in her chair, hand to her mouth, looking away and blinking back tears. After a long painful silence Lisa cleared her throat. “Did Bryce and Melanie come over again today?”

“Every day. They’re working almost as hard as Jamie and Carl and Rollie. They really want to help find Fred.”

“You know, they say that it takes a crisis to find out who your true friends are.” She reached across the table and took Rachel’s hand. “You’re a true friend, Rachel.”

“Yes I am.” She smiled at Lisa as she squeezed her hand. “Now eat some more of that or I’m going to bring my mother over here, and she’ll make you eat it.”

Lisa laughed weakly and forked a bite of cheesecake into her mouth.

* * *

Fred knew Jamie’s feelings were hurt as she sat beside him on the dream-sofa in her parents’ dreamscape living room. She pushed his lower lip in with her fingertip. “I’m sorry I have to make this visit so short, sweetie,” she said. “It’s just that I need the rest of the night to give nightmares to those horrible women.”

“I thought you said they went to bed late,” he said, eyes still sulking.

“Not tonight.” She laughed. “They’re exhausted, both of them. And I plan to make sure they stay that way.”

“But then they’ll probably torture you even more with that doll! That bothers me. A lot. I’m afraid you might...I don’t know...crack.” He looked at his knees. “You might give in and give them what they want. That’s what most people would do, eventually.”

She put her hand gently under his chin and lifted his face so that she could look into his blue eyes. “But I’m not like most people, remember? I’m a firecracker.”

“Well....” His face brightened. “People who mess with firecrackers sometimes get hurt.”

“Right.” She kissed him. “So I gotta go. I gotta teach a couple of women not to mess with firecrackers, especially the red-headed kind.”

Jamie’s form dissolved and she reentered the dream world, flying directly toward the sleeping witches, pondering what nightmares to give them. Something awful. Something that will make them wet themselves in terror. Something....

She paused in mid-flight. What am I doing? I’m getting as bad as them, aren’t I? Wanting to punish them?... and get revenge?

That’s what it was, and she knew it. Revenge. I’m not like that, am I? All I want to do is get away from them, not turn into one of them...mean and wicked.

She started to turn back to her body, but a thought occurred to her. I have to do this. It’s my best chance of escaping. I have to give them nightmares and ruin their sleep. She flew on toward Rita and Cassandra’s sleeping forms.

Just try not to enjoy it too much.

Chapter 35

Jamie stepped into the noisy back room of his cousin’s veterinary clinic to find Rollie already there, feeding a dog in one of the cages. The other dogs barked hellos to Jamie, and a few cats meowed.

Rollie looked up as Jamie entered. “Sorry I’m late.” Jamie said as he pulled a light blue scrub top over his long sleeve T-shirt. “Bryce and Melanie were at my house. Still are, actually.”

Rollie scratched the gray-and-white mutt on the head and closed the cage door. “Isn’t it weird that they’re always together? Don’t their significant others get jealous?”

“You’d think.” Jamie scanned the sheet on the wall to see which animals still needed tending to. “Bryce doesn’t seem to ever talk about Sally anymore.”

“If I were Sally, I’d be worried. Bryce with Melanie all day long? I mean, Melanie, she’s, you know....”

“Almost as pretty as Fred.”

“Right. And almost as pretty as Tanisha, too.” Rollie grinned. “Let the record show that we both said that.” He nodded firmly. “In case our girlfriends ask.”

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” Jamie chuckled. “But I know what you mean. She’s really pretty. Smart, too.”

Rollie opened another cage. “Did you see the yellow ribbons on all the trees by the park?”

Jamie pulled out a scoop of dry dog food from the large plastic bin on the floor. “What’s the story on that?”

“That was my idea. Me and some of the kids from my church youth group are doing it. Ten ribbons for every day Fred’s gone. That’s a hundred now.”

“Well, at the rate we’re going, you’re going to run out of trees.”

“Naw, man, we’re gonna bring her back. We pray for her after we put up the ribbons.” Rollie pulled the half-empty water bottle from the cage. “Wanna come with us tomorrow morning and put some up?”

“Can’t.” Jamie dumped the dog food into the empty bowl of a brown terrier’s cage. “Bryce and Melanie are coming over again to do more Internet searching.”

“Dude, I’d be careful if I were you. You don’t want to get too close to Melanie, if you know what I mean. She might try to kiss you again or something.”

“It’s not a problem. They hardly even know I’m there.”

* * *

Fred lay on her bed, her whole body quivering, her eyes brimming with hot tears. After spending the entire day making magic powders for the two witches — fertility spells, banishing spells, curse-removal spells, and more healing jelly — Rita had stood over Fred with the doll in hand, repeatedly jabbing the pin into it, demanding that Fred do the blood bond. Fred withstood the onslaught with stubborn resolve, determined not to surrender or cry out.

Rita finally gave up and stormed off, and now Fred whimpered in the private darkness of her room. I almost gave in...I came so close. She rolled onto her side and curled up into the fetal position as a tear trickled down her cheek and onto the bed.

I don’t how much more of this I can take.

* * *

Jamie was certain that Fred was holding something back from him in their dream that night. He could see it in her eyes, in some back closet of her soul that she wouldn’t open for him, something painful, he knew. She’s not telling me everything. But when he pressed her, she wouldn’t answer directly.

He finally had to let it go, for the moment. He squeezed her hand. “I have some good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first, please.”

“Your dad cut his finger real bad and had to get stitches.” Fred frowned and Jamie said, “The good news: Bryce and Melanie may have found something today. Somebody who calls himself Percy95 was bragging on a blog about helping some witches sell magic potions and stuff. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Percy is the kid who’s helping Rita and Cassandra with their web store. I’ve never met him, though. I doubt he knows I’m here.”

“Still, that helps, though he’s covered his tracks pretty well. He spoofed his IP address and used proxies to post and stuff. But if we follow his posts, he might give something away.”

Fred shook her head and exhaled slowly. “The sooner the better.”

“And my dad said he’ll need a court order to find out who actually owns the bank account for the credit card orders for the witches’ web site, but he’d need to bring the FBI into it, and we’d have to do some explaining about the magic and stuff.”

“Don’t do that just yet. That should be a last resort. I could end up getting rescued from here but then my life would be ruined if people found out I was a witch. These two witches would tell, I’m sure. They don’t care who knows.”

“I agree.” Jamie nodded, his face serious. “Oh, and Melanie said they found a Rusty Screw listed in every state in the South. Florida has at least four, so that’s no help. And my dad checked out the school’s video surveillance footage of the day you got kidnapped. There are a couple of suspicious-looking ladies on there, but they’re wearing hats that hide their faces, so that’s no help either.”

“Well, that means I have to keep trying to escape on my own.” She kissed him quickly. “Sorry that I have to leave you again so soon.”

“But I —”

“It’s fine. When I get home, we’ll spend so much time together our parents will have to pry us apart with a crowbar.” She patted his cheek. “Now, I’ll see you tomorrow night, maybe in person. Right now I gotta go give some wicked witches some wicked nightmares.”

* * *

The next morning, Fred lay in bed, listening to music on the boom box — the Brandenburg Concerto Number Four, her favorite of the CDs that had belonged to Isabelle — hoping the happy-sounding melody of the opening movement would lift her spirits. The recorders chirped like songbirds, but they might as well have been vultures.

Rita and Cassandra are going to hurt me again today. And I’ll probably spend all day working like a slave for them. She glanced at the empty wrapper on the bedside table. And I’m sick of Pop Tarts. What I wouldn’t give for a banana right now! Or a poppy seed muffin.

Her introspection was interrupted when Cassandra came crashing into the room, a cigarette dangling from her lip, wearing a bad attitude, skin-tight jeans and a sleeveless black top. She didn’t bother to say hello before dragging the table across the room toward the bed.

Fred sat up. “Where’s Rita?”

“Bitch went off again,” she said, speaking around her cigarette, the thin white stick bouncing in front of her face as she spoke. She pushed the table in place and went to the corner for a chair.

“Can I have a chair, too?”

“No.”

She’s in good mood today.

“So where’d Rita go?”

Cassandra grabbed the cardboard box. “Somewhere you don’t need to know, and don’t think you can fool me into sayin’, so stop tryin’.” She dropped the box with a loud thump beside the table and put her hands on her hips. “That redheaded slut said she needed to pick up some more supplies, but really, she just wants to party. She don’t want to work today. That’s what I think.”

“Why not just take the day off, then?”

“Can’t.” She flopped heavily on the folding chair. “Gotta fill an order.” She flicked her ashes into the small trash can by the bedside table. “Sometimes I wish we hadn’t a’ started the web store. It’s too much work.”

“What are we making?”

“Not we. You’re making come hither potion, though it’s really a powder.”

“Never heard of it. Is it in one of these spell books?” Fred nodded at the stack on the bedside table beside her.

“No.” Cassandra scowled. “Dammit!” She stood and stomped to the door. “I’ll be back.” She returned a moment later with a thick black tome and handed it to Fred. “It’s in there somewhere. Look in the back.”

Fred opened the book and flipped through the pages. “What’s this spell do?”

“Don’t do nothin’, most likely. I think it’s bogus, but we sold twenty-seven of ’em so we gotta make it.” She stubbed out her cigarette on the metal edge of the table and flicked it into the trash can. “It’s kinda like amore powder, only instead of giving it to the person you want to like you, you use it on yourself and it makes you more attractive to members of the opposite sex.” She said the last few words clinically, as if she were reading them from a book. “But I still say it’s bogus.”

Fred found the spell on the next-to-last-page and scanned the ingredients. Then her eyes grew wide when she spotted two particular ones: Black cohosh and elecampane root. The other two ingredients for the counter charm. She immediately thought of the folded card with the powder, hiding under the mattress. Today might not be so bad after all.

“Cassandra, can I use the food processor?”

“Hell no.” She handed Fred the mortar and pestle. “My head hurts bad enough without listenin’ to that racket.”

Fred began measuring and grinding the ingredients and Cassandra fished her magazine from the box beside her, leaned back in her chair and stretched her long legs out. She produced another cigarette from somewhere and lit it, her cheeks hollowing as she took her first puff.

“Aren’t you worried about the smoke and ashes affecting the spell?” Fred asked, wrinkling her nose.

Cassandra sat up, stretched her arm across the table, and tapped her ashes into the bowl Fred was filling with magic powder. “That’s what I think of this spell. Told you, it’s bogus.”

Fred stopped grinding. “Then why am I doing it?”

“’Cause we’re getting paid for it! Now shut up and stop askin’ so many stupid questions.”

Grumpy, aren’t we? Fred resumed her chore, stealing glances at the reclined blonde witch, who was engrossed in her magazine. She’s not paying attention. Fred ground a double measure of black cohosh and deliberately spilled some on the table, then did the same with the elecampane root. Cassandra yawned when Fred handed her a full bowl of powder to divide into bags.

Wish she’d put the bags on the table so I could steal one, Fred thought, eyeing the small brown box on the floor near Cassandra. I couldn’t reach it even if she left the room. My chain is too short.

Fred continued to work, and Cassandra’s chin gradually drooped to her chest and her still-lit cigarette slipped from her fingers to the floor.

Now’s my chance to put the other two ingredients into my counter charm. Fred stealthily eased her hand under the mattress and withdrew the folded card, her fingers brushing against the little bag of knockout powder as she did. She opened the white card, careful not to spill its precious contents, and held it under the edge of the table. Then she brushed the spilled powder onto it with her finger. She took the end of the measuring spoon and stirred the little pile of gray-and-white magic, folded the card up again, and started to return it to its hiding place, but paused when she glanced at Cassandra.

Rita’s gone, probably all day. She felt her heart beat faster. This is my best opportunity to escape. I’ve still got the knockout powder I hid...I can use it on Cassandra and get the key to my ankle cuff from her! She knelt beside the bed, shoved the folded card under the mattress and pulled out the bag containing the knockout powder. She kissed it. Sure hope this works.

She sat on the bed, slipped the bag with the powerful spell under her thigh and looked at the sleeping witch across from her. Her face is too far away for me to get to. I’m going to have to wake her up and trick her into coming closer. Fred rushed through the rest of her chore, and as she ground the last ingredient, she called, “Cassandra! Wake up. I’m done.”

The tall woman stirred, grunting as she rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s time for you to finish bagging the powders and take a nap, looks like.”

“Good idea.” She pulled out the little baggies and poured the remaining powder into them, and while she did, Fred eased the knockout powder from beneath her leg, carefully opening the bag in her lap, which was hidden from Cassandra’s view by the table. As Cassandra zipped the last bag closed, she said, “Done. I’ll clean up later. I gotta hit the hay.”

She started to drag the table away, but Fred dumped the knockout powder into her hand and said, “I hurt my palm grinding powder or something. I think it’s infected. What do you think?” She extended her closed fist toward Cassandra, who leaned forward to see. Fred opened her hand and blew, the powder making a white cloud around the woman’s face.

“What the hell!” Cassandra coughed and flapped her hand before her mouth, blinking hard. “What did you do?” She wavered and tried to grab the edge of the table, but her clumsy hand missed it as her eyes rolled up in her head. She dropped to the floor with a tremendous thump, knocking the folding chair askew as she fell.

The room was quiet. “Cassandra?” Fred looked at her closely. “You okay?” She got no answer. “Yes!” Fred squealed. “It worked.” She pushed the table out of the way and knelt beside the slumbering witch, feeling for the metal ticket to freedom. That key’s got to be in here someplace. She dug her fingers into each of the front pockets of Cassandra’s pants, and finding nothing, checked her blouse. No key there. Her heart began to sink. Maybe it’s in the back. With a grunt she rolled the woman onto her side and patted the two back pockets. “It’s not there!”

Fred sat on the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees. She doesn’t have the key. I thought she always carried it. She felt tears fill her eyes and she bit her lower lip. I’m never going home. Never.

She stood and dropped heavily on the bed, defeated.

* * *

She lay there for over an hour before it occurred to her that the two witches would probably search her room, looking for more stashed spells. Fred knelt beside the bed again and pulled the folded card containing the counter charm from underneath the mattress. Where am I gonna hide it? The empty plastic bag, still on the table where she’d dropped it, caught her eye.

She cleaned out the residue of the knockout powder from the bag and poured the contents of the folded card into it, sealed it closed and surveyed her sparse room. I need a hiding place they won’t think of. Her gaze settled on the boom box. The battery compartment!

She grabbed it and pried the plastic cover off with her thumbnail, relieved that it wasn’t held in place by a screw. The cavity underneath, the size of four D size batteries, was empty. She stuffed the plastic bag inside, replaced the cover, and set the boom box back in its place on the bedside table.

* * *

The light around the window curtains was turning gray when Fred heard a groan from the floor. She rolled over and sat up as Cassandra lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. “What happened?” The older witch said, then her face grew hard. “You used knockout powder on me. You little bitch!” She staggered to her feet and stumbled from the room, only to return a moment later with the voodoo doll in one hand, the pin in the other. She stood in the doorway, held the doll before her and jabbed the pin into its back.

“Ugh!” A lightning bolt of pain shot into Fred’s spine, the worst pain she’d ever experienced. She arched her back. “Oh, God!” She looked at Cassandra and gasped, “Please pull out the pin.” The agony was astounding. Please! Fred thought. Please! I feel like there’s a spear in my back. Pull out the pin.

Cassandra only smirked. “And you can forget about supper, too.” She stomped away, leaving Fred grunting in distress.

Fred laid there, body contorted, unable to find relief, her breath shuddering in shallow gasps, for what seemed like hours. Somehow the room had gone completely dark, no light showed from the edges of the curtains, and she realized that she must’ve passed out. I’m going to die soon. I can’t take it.

Then as swiftly as the pain had come, it vanished, leaving Fred panting, lying on her side. She finally pulled the pin out. Fred rubbed her lower back and sighed. That was the worst one yet.

At least she didn’t ask me to do the blood bond. I probably would’ve given in.

Chapter 36

Rita sat with one elbow leaning on the big table, massaging the bridge of her nose with the heel of her hand, her back turned to the late-morning sun glaring through the window.

“You too, huh?” Cassandra said, slumped against the doorway to the kitchen.

“Uunnhhh,” Rita moaned. “Didn’t sleep at all last night.” She tilted her head back and rolled it around slowly. “Bad, bad dreams.”

“This is getting out of hand. Even Fred’s getting ’em.’ Cassandra rubbed one eye with the knuckle of her index finger. “You don’t suppose Momma Sue has anything to do with this, do you? You think she knows we’re misusin’ the doll?”

Rita blew out a long gust of air. “Maybe. I thought all the wards I put around the house would shield us, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Remember? Momma Sue said if we used the doll to hurt Fred, she was gonna punish us. She was real specific about that.”

“Then why would Fred have bad dreams, too?”

Cassandra shrugged. “Maybe Momma Sue can’t single us out. Maybe your wards make it so she had to hex the whole house.”

“Well, I’m hexed all right.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Last night was the worst. I’ve never had nightmares like that.”

“Me too. I probably shouldn’t a’ hurt Fred for so long yesterday. I left the pin in the doll for a long time.” She crossed her arms and leaned her head back against the doorjamb. “Maybe we shouldn’t use the doll on her today.”

Rita nodded. “If I don’t get a good night’s sleep soon, I’m gonna die. And tonight’s New Year’s Eve, too. I gotta get a nap or I won’t make it.”

“It’s your turn to stay home with Fred.”

“Oh, no. I’m not missing New Year’s.”

“I’m not staying home two nights in a row!” Cassandra put her fingers to her temples and grimaced. “Let’s argue about this later, after a nap.” She took a long, deep breath with her eyes closed. “Right now I gotta run to the store. We’re out of food.”

“Get something for Fred, too. Something better than peanut butter. We gotta be nice to her today.”

* * *

The two witches had been ignoring Fred all day, which was fine, except that she was out of food. She had her finger in the bottom of the peanut butter jar, trying to scoop out the last bit, when Cassandra came into the room.

She stopped at the foot of the bed and tossed a plastic grocery bag to Fred.

Fred caught it and said, “What’s this?”

“A sub sandwich. Thought you might like something different. It’s ham and cheese, from the deli at the store.” Her mouth twitched as if she were attempting a smile. “Hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah...thanks.”

Cassandra dug into her pants pocket and pulled out a little plastic tube. She dropped it on the end of the bed. “Thought you might want some healing jelly in case you cut your legs shavin’.” Her mouth twitched again. “And you helped make it and everything.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but after standing there for an awkward moment, she turned and left without a word.

As soon as the door closed, Fred pulled the sandwich from the bag, tore the wrapper off, and took a big bite. Oh, that’s so good! Her stomach rumbled its appreciation as she closed her eyes in ecstasy. Then she wolfed the rest of it down.

* * *

Jamie stood in Rollie’s driveway, hands in his coat pockets, and watched Rollie take another shot. The ball swished through the net and Rollie picked it up. He started to pass it to Jamie, but Jamie only shook his head.

“You going to Bryce’s New Year’s Eve party tonight?” Jamie said.

“Don’t want to. I feel bad goin’ with Fred still gone and all.” Rollie held the ball on his hip. “But Tanisha had a fit when I told her, ’cause we haven’t been out since Fred got snatched.” Rollie grimaced. “She gave me an ultimatum.”

“Oh man. You’d better go, then.”

“Why don’t you go too, so I don’t feel so guilty?”

Jamie looked at his feet for a moment. “I dunno. What if Fred tries to get hold of me in a dream and I’m not asleep? I mean, what if she had something really important to tell me?”

“You’ll still go to sleep, eventually. She can tell you then. Go to the party, Dude.”

“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

They don’t realize how well their voices carry in this house, Fred thought as she listened to the two witches arguing again. They’d argued about many things over the course of the day, but mostly they’d argued about Fred.

“For the tenth time,” Fred heard Cassandra say, “I am not, repeat, NOT staying home with her tonight!”

“And I am NOT missing the New Year’s Eve party,” Rita yelled. “Repeat, NOT.”

There was a moment of silence before Cassandra said, “Then let’s both go.”

“Who’s gonna look after Fred?”

“Just give her the knockout powder so she can’t escape while we’re gone. Nobody’s gonna mess with the house, and if they do, you got your wards out, right? You can wear your special bracelet so you can tell if somebody does. Then we can run back here pronto if we have to.”

Knockout powder? Fred thought. Oh, no they don’t. Not again. She grabbed the boom box and fumbled with the latch to the battery compartment as she heard Rita say, “Do you remember where we put the powder?”

Come on, come on! Fred jabbed her thumbnail into the balky latch, pressing as hard as she could, until the latch broke with a sickening crack. “No!” She looked closely and saw only a little stump of what remained of it, and she heard footsteps at the end of the hall. She stuck the long nail of her little finger into the cavity, pushing it in as deeply as she could, painfully, teeth gritted in concentration. “Come on! Open!” The lid popped free and clattered to the floor.

She yanked out the bag with the counter charm in it and snatched it open. How do I take this? Eat it? Instead, she stuck her nose into the bag and inhaled sharply through her nostrils. “Ow!” Her sinuses stung and her eyes immediately watered.

She stuffed the nearly empty bag under her pillow just as her door opened. Rita entered, holding one fist closed. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Fred forced a smile.

“Well, I brought you a little something.” She held her hand out toward Fred.

I bet you did. Fred played along, and as she leaned forward to look, Rita opened her fist and blew powder into Fred’s face.

Fred coughed and said, “What was that?” even though she already knew.

“Just a little something to help you sleep.”

Fred put one hand to her face and groaned theatrically, “Oh, my head...it’s....” and she collapsed on the bed.

Rita waited a moment before pinching Fred on the arm. Ouch! Fred thought, but didn’t flinch.

“Okay, Cass,” Rita called. “She’s out.”

“Woo hoo!” Cassandra said from some other room. “Time for Cass and Rita to make the scene.”

“Oh yeah. Hottest New Year’s Eve party in Thibodaux!” As Rita walked out, closing the door behind her, she said, “Make sure you bring plenty of love powder and whatever else we can sell.”

Fred’s heart raced as she listened to Rita’s footsteps fade away. I’m in Thibodaux! Fred thought triumphantly. Thibodaux. I can’t wait to tell Jamie.

She lay perfectly still until she heard the front door slam and the house turn silent. They’re gone. The counter charm worked. She turned on her bedside light, went to the washstand, brushed her teeth and washed her face. “Time to go home,” she said to her reflection in the tiny mirror above the water bowl. “If I can just fall asleep in time.”

Chapter 37

Jamie slouched on the sofa beside his parents. He wore khaki pants and a long-sleeve dark blue dress shirt. He reached down with one hand, undid the laces of his leather shoes and kicked them off.

Carl pressed the mute button on the remote control and looked at his watch. “It’s ten-fifteen. Aren’t you supposed to be at Bryce’s party?”

Jamie shrugged, but didn’t take his eyes from the television. “Don’t feel like going.”

“But it’s New Year’s Eve,” Rachel said. “All your friends will be there.”

“Fred won’t.”

“But don’t you think she’d want you to go?”

“Dunno.” He stood and picked up his shoes. “Think I’ll just go to bed. Maybe she’ll spend more time with me tonight in a dream.” He shuffled to the stairs without another word.

He turned on his bedside lamp and flopped on the bed without taking his clothes off. What a terrible New Year’s Eve. Wish Fred was here. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Maybe I’ll just rest for a minute before I put on my pajamas.

* * *

“Jamie!” He heard Fred say. “Jamie, can you hear me?”

He materialized in Fred’s dream-room at the witches’ house. She was beside him, eyes wide, exploding with excitement. “I’m in Thibodaux! They finally said it.”

Jamie’s heart leapt. “Yes!” He threw his arms around her and gasped, “Finally!” No news could’ve sounded sweeter to his ears. Not if he’d been informed he was the secret heir to the throne of England. Not if he’d won the Mega Zillions Lottery. He now knew where she was, and that was the greatest jackpot of all. He squeezed her, then put his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve never heard of Thibodaux, but my dad will know where it is. Well find it. We’re coming to get you right now!”

“When you get here, there are a couple of things you need to watch out for. Rita’s got wards around the house, and if she shows up, watch out for the little jade pendant she wears around her neck. It’s powerful.”

“What’s it do?”

“It makes people kinda stupid and forgetful when she spins it. It’s what she used when they kidnapped me, so you gotta take care of that.” She put her hand on his upper arm. “And the doll! It’s got one of my hairs sewn into the head, and that’s why it hurts me when they stick it, and it really hurts bad. They can probably kill me with it.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that, too. They’ve hurt you for the last time.”

She kissed him quickly. “Now, wake yourself up, and hurry, before they come back.”

* * *

Jamie’s eyes popped open and he was in his own bed; he looked at the alarm clock as he pulled on his shoes. Almost eleven o’clock. Gotta hurry and rescue Fred before the witches get back. He ran out of his room and flew down the stairs, yelling as he went, “Dad! Dad, she’s in Thibodaux!” He skidded to a halt in the family room and his mother clicked off the television as his father stood.

“Thibodaux?” Carl said. “That’s in Louisiana.”

“Let’s go get her.”

“Can you make a doorway there?”

Jamie dashed to the computer in the corner and powered it on. “I gotta see it on satellite view.”

“We should take my truck. Can you make a doorway that big?”

“Yeah, but why?”

Carl picked up his cellphone from the end table and began tapping numbers on it. “We don’t know where in Thibodaux those witches live, but I bet I can find somebody who does. We might have to do some driving when we get there.”

Come on, Jamie thought impatiently as he watched the computer screen, waiting for it to boot up. He heard his father ask for the phone number of the Thibodaux Police Department, then he heard him talking to someone named Sergeant Lambeau.

The computer finished loading and Jamie clicked on maps, found Louisiana, and zoomed in on Thibodaux. He closed his eyes, put his hand on the modem for a moment and focused on the location, burning it into his magic sense of space. He stood and said, “Okay. I got it.”

Carl put his phone in his pocket and grabbed his keys from his coat. “My gun’s in the garage. We’ll get it on the way out.”

“Gun?” Rachel said with a touch of alarm in her voice.

“You never know, honey.” He kissed her quickly and headed for the door with Jamie.

“Call me when you get Fred,” Rachel said as they vanished into the kitchen. “I’ll tell Lisa and Larry.”

They dashed through the kitchen door that led to the garage. Carl grabbed his gun and jumped in the driver’s seat as Jamie made a small doorway.

Jamie stepped through the glowing portal and found himself in a parking lot; a few police cruisers with Thibodaux Police painted on their sides were parked nearby. This is it. Jamie looked around to see if no one was looking, expanded the doorway and yelled, “Okay, Dad.”

Carl backed the red pickup truck through the portal and it winked out. He leaped from his seat, slammed the door, and he and Jamie sprinted to the entrance of the brick building. Once inside, Carl flashed his badge and they were directed to Sergeant John Paul Lambeau’s tiny office. They knocked and he let them in.

The medium-built, serious-faced officer shook their hands as they introduced themselves. “Didn’t I just talk to you on the phone, Detective Sikes? Something about a kidnapping?” One eyebrow drew down. “The caller ID said it was from Hendersonville, North Carolina.”

“Please, it’s Carl, and I’ll explain the caller ID in a minute. But first we have to do something and we you need to trust us. We need you to swear an oath.”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“No. It’s hard to explain, but we’re kinda in a hurry. Jamie?”

Jamie smacked his forehead. “I forgot the Bible! I gotta go back and get it.”

“I got one on here,” John Paul said, gesturing to a shelf behind him. “But why?”

“Do the oath and we’ll tell you.”

“What’s it say?”

Carl handed him a slip of paper with the oath on it, and after reading it, John Paul handed it back and said, “That seems okay.” He pulled the Bible from the shelf and regarded Carl for a moment, as if sizing him up. “But still, this is a strange request, and I wouldn’t do it if you weren’t a cop.”

* * *

Carl clutched the steering wheel with two hands as his truck roared down the highway. John Paul sat in the passenger seat and Jamie sat behind him. While the two men talked, Jamie sorted through his store of Eddan’s memories, and one thing became clear: As powerful as Eddan was, he was wary of witches.

“That was something,” John Paul said, shaking his head. “Really, really something. I never would’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I’ve always heard that Rita and Cassandra were real witches and did real magic, but I...wow.” He gave a nervous laugh. “How long you been doin’ magic like that, Jamie?”

“Most of my life.”

“We have an unusual household,” Carl said, flicking the headlights to high beam when they passed the last streetlight.

“And Fred’s a witch,” Jamie said. “That’s why Rita and Cassandra kidnapped her. They need her for their triad.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about that kinda stuff,” John Paul said, “but these women have been a thorn in my side for as long as I can remember. I’ve heard they use their magic to help their criminal friends, but I can’t prove it. I’d love to bust them for kidnapping...love to bust them for anything. It’s hard to make charges stick to those two.”

“They’re probably using magic to weasel their way out of trouble.”

“That would explain a lot.” John Paul pointed down the dark highway. “We’re gonna go another couple miles and turn left on a dirt road. They live down that way about a mile or so. It’s a good thing we’re not in my cruiser, ’cause they’d know something was up if they saw it.”

They turned and drove down a dark, rutted lane for a bit before John Paul had them pull off into the bushes and hide the truck. They walked the last fifty yards in the dark. Jamie said quietly, “They have wards up around the house, so we can’t just break the door down.”

“What are wards?” John Paul asked.

“Magic alarms, kinda. Think of them as invisible trip wires. If we cross one, the witches will know we’re here and they’ll come back.”

“Then we can arrest them.”

“We should get Fred first and then I gotta take care of the voodoo doll. They could kill Fred if we’re not careful.”

John Paul stopped. “Voodoo doll? I thought that was all nonsense.”

“Tell that to Fred. They’ve been torturing her with it for days.”

The house came into sight, a squat wooden structure with a single light illuminating the small front porch. They tiptoed up the steps and Jamie whispered, “I’ll go first.” He inspected the door for a moment, fingering his chin as he did. “I don’t know what a witch’s ward looks like, so I’ll try this.” He traced a magic doorway on the face of the front door, careful not to disturb it.

“Wow,” John Paul muttered when the outlines began to glow. Jamie pushed it open, looked at the men with his finger to his lips, then stepped through. He took a quick look around the cluttered front room and closed his eyes, listening with his magic, then turned back to the door.

“All right, Fred’s alone,” he said.

Carl and John Paul stepped inside and John Paul said, “How can you tell?”

“There’s only one heartbeat, and I’m pretty sure it’s hers.” He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Fred?”

“Back here!” he heard from somewhere deep in the house. He ran toward her voice, his heart pounding with his footsteps. He saw light seeping below the last door on the right and he pushed it open. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed in the weak glow of the bedside lamp, barefoot, hands clasped between her knees.

“Fred!”

She leapt up and threw herself on him, arms clutching his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, laughing and crying at the same time. “I’m so glad we found you,” he said into her mass of hair while she moaned into his shoulder. The surge of emotion that swelled through him was nearly overpowering.

Fred’s voice was muffled by Jamie’s shirt as she said, “What took you so long?”

Jamie heard footsteps behind him as Carl and John Paul ran into the room.

“Fred, are you okay?” Carl said. She nodded and slid off Jamie. Then she hugged Carl and began to sob. Carl patted her back and his expression grew tender. “Sure did miss you,” he said softly.

Fred let go and wiped her eyes as Carl introduced John Paul. “He guided us here.”

“Where are Rita and Cassandra?” John Paul asked.

“They went to a party.”

“They’re probably at the Rusty Screw.” He pulled his radio from his belt. “I’ll send an officer over there to pick ’em up.”

“Wait,” Fred said. “Rita’s armed with powerful magic. You need to let Jamie take care of her first.”

* * *

Rita was walking to the dance floor with Louis when she felt her bracelet vibrate. Uh oh. She let go of Louis’s hand and pushed through the crowd to Cassandra, who was already dancing with Big Dan. Rita grabbed Cassandra’s elbow and leaned close to her ear so she could be heard over the raucous music. “We gotta go. Somebody’s at the house.”

“But I just started dancing’,” she protested.

“We can come back.” She pulled Cassandra toward the door. “Hurry.”

* * *

Jamie surveyed the sparsely furnished room, better suited to a nun than a vibrant seventeen-year-old-girl like Fred. “It’s exactly like you made it in the dreams.”

Fred raised her foot and pointed to the chain at her ankle. “Do you mind?”

“Oh. ’Course not.” Jamie knelt beside her and touched a fingertip to the metal cuff. It popped open and clanked to the floor.

“Ah!” Fred sat on the bed and rubbed her ankle, eyes closed in a look of pure bliss. “You don’t know how good that feels.”

Carl watched her, his eyes lowered to slits, jaw thrust out, full G.I. Joe. “They’ve kept you chained up the whole time?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Except for when they put the Compliance Bracelet on me and made me clean out my chamber pot.” She glanced at the white ceramic vessel near the bed, dented on one side from where she banged it against the would-be rapist’s head. “But I don’t remember any of that.”

“Those women are evil,” he said in a hard, level voice.

“I could’ve told you that,” John Paul said from the hall, where he had retreated to watch the front door. “I just saw headlights through the window. I think they’re here.”

“How are we going to handle this, Jamie?” Carl said.

“Stick close to me and follow my lead.” He touched his finger to his lips again. “We’re gonna disappear.” Jamie walked to the corner by the window and the men followed. Jamie raised his hands before him and the air around them shimmered yellow, then went clear.

“You’re invisible!” Fred grinned.

Jamie heard the front door bang open. “Fred?” a woman called.

“What?” Fred yelled.

A moment later, two women walked into the room, a tall bleached blonde wearing tight-fitting clothes and too much makeup, and a shorter, pudgy red-head with a malicious glint in her eyes. Cassandra and Rita, Jamie knew at once.

Rita had her hand on the chain of her jade pendant as she scanned the room. “Check the closet, Cass.”

“What for?” Fred said.

“Somebody’s here.”

Fred watched as Cassandra pulled the closet door open, looked inside, shook her head and closed it. Jamie crept closer to Rita, hands still out, maintaining his shield, with Carl and John Paul close by his side. Hope the floor doesn’t creak, he thought as his heart hammered in his chest.

“Look under the bed, then.” Rita jiggled the pendant and Jamie stepped closer still, close enough to touch her, he and the two men still invisible to the women.

It’s now or never, he thought. He dropped his shield and thrust his hand out in one motion, seizing the pendant.

Rita screamed and grabbed at Jamie’s arm as his fingers closed around the jade baby. White light flashed from between his fingers, and as it faded, Jamie opened his hand. The pendant crumbled to the floor in pieces. Rita gasped, hands to her face, eyes wide with shock.

Carl and John Paul drew their guns and John Paul said, “Hands where we can see them. Down on the floor, now!”

But Rita already had the little white doll in one hand, the other holding the pin to the doll’s head. “Drop your guns or I’ll kill her.”

“Can she do that?” Carl said without taking his eyes off Rita.

“Yes,” Fred said. “Jamie?”

“I’m on it.” Jamie focused his mind on the doll’s head, zeroing in on it and searching through the tangle of yarn until he found it — a single strand of curly red hair. He willed it loose, and as it floated to the floor, he pointed a finger and sent a thin stream of energy at it, vaporizing it instantly. “Okay. You’re safe.”

Rita’s eyes grew wild and she jabbed the pin into the doll’s head. Fred grinned and Rita jabbed again and again, her face growing more frantic.

Fred laughed. “Doesn’t work anymore, Rita. You can stop now.”

Rita’s mouth dropped, and Cassandra’s hands fluttered before her like startled birds.

“But, but....” Rita spluttered and looked from Fred to Jamie.

Carl kept his gun trained on them as John Paul pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt.

“What are you going to do with them?” Fred asked.

“Lock ’em up,” John Paul said. “You have the right to remain —”

“Wait!” Fred put her hand on his arm. “They’ll just use their magic to escape.”

John Paul lowered the handcuffs. “You think so?”

“I’m sure of it. No jail can hold them.”

Carl waved his gun at them. “We can’t just let them go!”

“No,” Jamie said. “Especially now that they know about me. I can’t let them spread that around.”

“Who are you?” Cassandra said.

“He’s my boyfriend, Jamie,” Fred said. “And he’s a powerful sorcerer.” She put extra emphasis on the last word.

“I thought he ran cross country.” Cassandra looked confused.

“He does, but he’s also a sorcerer, and he can blast you into a pile of slag if he feels like it.” Fred scowled and pointed at the women. “Go ahead, Jamie. Blast ’em!”

Jamie laughed as he shook his head. “That’s a little harsh.”

“Not to me it isn’t!” Fred protested.

Rita shrank back a step. “How did you find us?”

“Fred kept in touch with me through our dreams,” Jamie said. “We just needed for you to tell us where she was so we could come get her.”’

Rita looked at Fred incredulously. “You’re a Dream Talker?”

Fred rolled her eyes. “I prefer Dream Fairy. But yes, I can talk to him in dreams.”

“You gave us the nightmares, didn’t you?” Cassandra said.

Fred nodded and smiled wickedly.

“That still leaves us with the problem of what to do with these two,” Carl said.

“Shoot ’em,” Fred said.

“No.” Jamie stepped to an open space in the room. “I have a better idea.” He traced the glowing outlines of another doorway as the two older women watched, suspicious looks on their faces. He pushed it open, revealing a wide field and a dirt road beyond. A startled bird tittered and flew away.

“Where is that?” John Paul said.

Jamie stepped back. “Not sure. It’s another world, though.”

“As in, planet?”

Jamie nodded. “It’s where Eddan used to banish weaker wizards when they tried to attack him.”

“Who’s Eddan?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you some time.” Carl said. “So you’re going to send these women there, Jamie?”

“Yep,” Jamie said. “It’s perfect.”

“Oohhhhhhhhh no!” Rita said, backing away with Cassandra “We’re not going to...to another planet!” They bumped into Carl, who blocked their path to the hall.

“Yes, you are,” Jamie said firmly. “It’s not so bad. There’s a village nearby and the people there should be used to strangers.” He grinned and nodded. “’Cause Eddan sent them a few, through a doorway just like this one. That means there are a few wizards around, so you better watch yourself. Might even be a few witches, too. You’ll fit right in.”

Carl herded them closer to the magic portal, but when the witches turned and tried to push past him, John Paul fired his gun into the ceiling. They froze and the room became silent.

Cassandra looked from face to face and squeaked, “I can’t! It’s got aliens...it’s —”

“Relax.” Jamie chuckled. “It’s like Earth, pretty much, except a little behind technologically. I don’t think they have electricity yet.”

Rita stamped her foot. “We are not going. We have rights! We should be —”

“Enough!” Jamie shouted. “You’re going and that’s final.”

She raised her chin. “And if we refuse?”

Jamie extended his arm from his side, palm out. He narrowed his eye lids and a stream of white fire exploded from his hand, blasting a bowling ball-sized hole in the wall near the window.

“Amazing,” John Paul muttered.

The women’s eyes grew wide with terror and Carl gave them another push toward the portal.

Cassandra moaned. “Nooo....”

Jamie extended his other arm and sent a bolt of energy through the opposite wall, narrowly missing the wash stand. John Paul joined Carl and pushed them to the edge of the open doorway.

“No!” Rita shrieked. “We can’t!”

“Just blast ’em, Jamie,” Fred said.

Jamie turned his extended hand toward them and the women scampered through the portal, stopping at the edge of the grass on the other side and turning back to them.

“But....but what about clothes?” Cassandra said pitifully.

Fred grabbed the two dresses and the pile of clean underwear from the top of the dresser and hurled them through the doorway at them. “There. That should do.”

“But...my makeup. What about money! What about —”

“You’ll be fine,” Jamie said. “Somebody there will offer you a meal or two.”

As the women stared back at them with stunned looks on their faces, Fred waved and said, “’Bye now. I’d say it was fun, but it wasn’t.”

Jamie snapped his fingers and the doorway vanished. The room was quiet for a long moment as John Paul gaped at the empty space.

“Whew!” Carl wiped his forehead.

“Huh.” John Paul said. “So that’s it? They’re gone?” He turned to Carl. “You realize what we just did is highly unethical and illegal, don’t you?”

Carl shrugged. “You got a better idea?”

“I can bring ’em back if you want,” Jamie said.

John Paul shook his head firmly. “No thanks.”

Fred picked up the stack of books from the bedside table and handed them to Jamie. “Here. We’re taking these.”

“What are they?”

“Spell books.” She picked up the a little plastic tube of green goo. “And this is healing jelly. This goes too.” She waggled it with her fingers. “Made it myself.”

“Your mom’s not gonna be happy about the spell books,” Carl said.

But Fred gave him a steady look and crossed her arms. He sighed and waved one hand dismissively. “Fine. You can sort that out later. Anything else you need?”

Fred looked around the room, her prison of the last two weeks, and shook her head. “Can we go home now?”

Chapter 38

Rachel pushed the plate of fried chicken across the table to Lisa. “You certainly seem to have gotten your appetite back.”

Lisa grabbed a drumstick, indelicately. “I’m starving!” She took a vicious bite, the suburban barbarian.

“She’s been eating like that all day,” Larry said, sitting next to her, leaning his elbow on the table, chin in hand.

“What time did you get to bed?” Rachel said.

“Around three-thirty, I guess.” Larry sighed. “Fred had to take a shower first. A loooooong shower.”

“I don’t blame her. I would too.”

Carl looked at the mob of teenagers in the living room, congregating around Jamie and Fred, who held court from the couch. “How long has it been this crazy?”

“Since right after lunch,” Larry said. “Rollie was the first one over after Jamie.”

Lisa put down what remained of the drumstick, nothing left but bare bone, and licked her fingers. “Fred cried when she found out Rollie didn’t do the talent contest. She didn’t know.”

Larry picked up a piece of chicken from the plate. “But then all three of them did their little chant, and they were all smiles again. We’re the crew, we can’t be beat.” He chuckled before taking a bite.

Rachel added, “Everybody smell our feet.” She laughed. “Jamie’s sure that chant does something, in a magical way. He thinks they have a pretty powerful triad of their own.”

“Speaking of powerful, how’s your finger, Larry?” Carl asked. “Did Fred’s potion do the trick?”

Larry held it up and said, “Totally healed. Can’t tell I cut it at all. That green jelly Fred put on it really worked.” His grin was lopsided. “I guess her bein’ a witch isn’t all bad, huh?” He rubbed his jaw for a moment. “She wants to go back to the witches’ house with Jamie and get the rest of their spell books. I don’t know what to do about that.”

Lisa picked up another piece of chicken. “I think we should let her, as long as we supervise her when she uses them. If she can make a healing potion like that....” She shrugged and took a bite.

“There might be other helpful spells she can do,” Rachel said, then put her hand on Carl’s arm. “Honey, we need to do something nice for that policeman that helped you last night.”

“I invited him for dinner this Saturday night. Hope that’s okay. Jamie said he’ll make a doorway for him.”

“I’ll cook,” Lisa said.

Rachel frowned. “Carl invited him. I’ll cook.”

“He helped rescue my daughter,” Lisa said. “I should cook.”

“But I think I....” Rachel held up one hand and shook her head. “We’ll both cook.”

Larry stood and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I think it’s time for a little peace and quiet around here.”

* * *

Fred, still on the couch with Jamie, couldn’t help but smile, watching her father trying to send her friends home as tactfully as he could. When he herded the last of her well-wishers, Bryce and Melanie, to the door he said, “Thanks for stopping by. You can come back tomorrow, but we need a little family time now.”

Melanie paused at the door and said, “Can I borrow somebody’s phone to call my mom to pick me up?”

“Bryce,” Fred said, “why don’t you give her a ride?”

Bryce and Melanie looked at each other, and Melanie said, brown eyes sparkling, “Is that okay?”

“Oh,” Bryce blinked a couple of times. “Yeah. Sure.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s still early. Wanna, um, get some coffee or something?”

She flashed her brilliant, dimpled smile. “Sure.” She looked back at Fred as Larry held the door open for them. “Let’s go shopping or something tomorrow. I got money for Christmas. I’m not broke anymore!”

Fred laughed and waved goodbye. Larry closed the door behind them and rubbed his hands together. “Finally!” He looked at Fred and Jamie. “Now, are you two okay here? ’Cause we’re going down in the basement to watch the game.”

“Who’s we?” Lisa said from the table.

“You, me, Carl, and Rachel.” He walked toward the basement door, motioning with one hand for Lisa to follow him.

“But I don’t even like football.” But when Rachel and Carl stood and started to follow Larry, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, what the heck. Somebody bring the chicken, will you?”

Jamie watched them go and said, “Fred, your dad is acting funny.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s usually hanging around us, watching us like a hawk, but now it seems like he wants us to be alone.”

She draped her arms on his shoulders and wrapped her hands behind his neck. “Are you complaining?”

“No, it’s just...different.”

“He’s ecstatically happy that I’m home and grateful to you for rescuing me.”

“You did most of the work. All I did was make a doorway.”

“Well....” She put her face close to his. “I’d still be there if it wasn’t for you, and the closest we’d ever get would be in our dreams.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek and chuckled. “But you watch. Give my dad about ten minutes and he’ll be back up here, checking on us.”

“Fred, I don’t mean to change the subject, but did you give Melanie a love potion?”

“Didn’t have to. She and Bryce are falling in love the old-fashioned way.”

“But...I don’t get it.”

“They’ve spent a lot of time together lately, working on the search for me, but Melanie’s furious with Michael because he didn’t lift a finger to help. Bryce and Sally haven’t been getting along since he decided to stop sponging off his dad. Sally’s kind of a gold digger.”

“You know all this and you haven’t even been back for twenty-four hours yet?”

“I’m a witch. I have powers, remember?”

“Hmph.” He looked at her like he was going to say something more about it, but seemed to change his mind. “Fred, about your powers: have you noticed that when we kiss in a dream that we don’t get the tingle? At least I don’t. In fact, we haven’t had a really good one since you came home.”

“Are you wondering if we still got it?” She smiled slyly.

He returned the smile with a slyness of his own. “Yeah. I think we should do a little test.”

“Me too.” She drew his face to hers and pressed her lips firmly against his. Goosebumps formed up and down her arms and she felt the warm, electric tingle surge throughout her body. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood out and she shivered. “Ooh,” she said softly, then kissed him again. She pulled back and they locked gazes. “So what do think? Do we still got it?”

But she didn’t need to hear his answer. His eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Chapter 39

Rita leaned her elbows heavily on the rough wooden table, her face resting in her hands, staring dully at the unfinished planks. An earthenware mug appeared before her, and she looked up to see the lean fellow with the scraggly blond beard, smiling a yellow-toothed smile.

What’s his name? Larda? Larva? The strong yeasty smell of the brew inside the mug hit her nostrils, and she wrinkled her nose. “Is this all they serve here? Don’t they have any wine or whiskey or something?”

The smile on the lean man’s face faded, and she said quickly, “No, it’s fine. I like ale. Thanks.” Beggars can’t be choosers.

His smile returned and Cassandra, sitting across from her in the lap of a burly, dark-bearded man, said, “I kinda like it.” She picked up her own mug and took a sloppy sip. “It’s okay once you get used to it.” She touched her man-of-the-moment on the end of his nose, giggled, and looked at Rita. “He’s kinda cute, dontcha think? Looks a little like Big Dan.” She tapped his nose a couple of times with her fingertip.

The lean fellow and the burly man had attached themselves to Rita and Cassandra from the moment the witches had stepped into the smoky, low-beamed tavern. The men offered to buy drinks, and since credit cards and American money were now useless on this strange world, the women accepted.

The serving girl, a pale, flat-chested waif with stringy brown hair and a slight overbite, set four bowls of stew on their table, curtsied and walked away. Rita couldn’t help but notice the lean man’s gaze follow the girl as she left. He’s had his eye on her all day. A thought occurred to Rita and she said, “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

A slight sigh escaped his lips, and he continued to watch her for a moment before turning to Rita. “Yeah,” he grunted.

Quite the conversationalist. Then Rita had an idea. He could use a little help. “Cassandra, hand me your purse.” Cassandra pushed her black leather pocketbook across the table and Rita opened it, pulling out a small bag containing the amore powder. Now I remember his name. “Larson.”

She held the clear plastic packet toward the lean man and waved it as she spoke. “I’ve got just the thing for you.”

Cassandra caught her gaze and winked.

About the Author

Geof Johnson lives in Atlanta Georgia with his family, a dog and a cat. He enjoys running, water color painting, and playing guitar a little too loud and a little too much.

You can contact him at: geof.johnson@comcast.net

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

About the Author