T*Witches: Building a Mystery (10 page)

They trudged out into the open now to gather the herbs they needed.

What they found was an intruder.

Cam couldn't believe her eyes. But even before she zoned in on the trespasser, she recognized the face, half-hidden behind stringy brown hair, and the energetic, pint-sized body. The little gnome was sitting in the grass, leaning back against a tree—Cam's tree, the big old elm she loved

Madison Knudnick seemed almost as stunned to see them as they were to see her. For the first time, she wasn't lively, jumping around, shrieking in that nasal whine of hers. She was, in fact, brooding.
Send a man to do a child's job,
Alex heard her say gloomily, before Madison spotted them and whatever else the girl was thinking got lost in static again.

Madison scrambled to her feet. "Wow, is this, like, too weird for words? I didn't know anybody else knew about this place. But, well, of course you two would. Duh." She smacked her forehead. "Like how could you not, right? Still, I've gotta say you, like, totally freaked me out, stepping out of the woods like that."

Cam believed her. Madison looked radically stressed. Honestly surprised. And, Cam realized, "honestly anything" was not a phrase she'd ordinarily use to describe the manic mouse-ette.

But Alex wasn't convinced. "How did you know we were going to be here?" she demanded.

"Hello," Madison sang. "Anyone home? I just told you, Alexandra, you guys scared me to pieces. I had no idea you'd be here—"

"And by, 'of course we'd know about this place,' you meant?" Alex probed.

"Well, everyone knows this is a... a... you know, like, historic area—"

"I've lived in Marble Bay all my life," Cam informed the wheedling girl, "and no one ever mentioned that to me."

"Oooo, my mistake, I guess. Totally you'd know better than me. I must have gotten it all confused with, like, some other place."

"Some other place that's famous for what?" Cam pressed.

"O.M.G., I am so late!" Madison looked at the giant watch that looped loosely around her little wrist and started backing away. "Supper time. Gotta run. See you guys at school."

They stared at her, a hundred questions racing through their minds, as she skittered away, disappearing like a scrabbling animal through the brambles.

Karsh stopped to smell the wild mint. It grew in knee-high clusters behind Ileana's cottage. He leaned for support against the trellis he'd built for her more than a dozen years ago, when she'd become guardian of the twins. The youngest guardian in Coventry's history. At his insistence.

Rhianna, Grivveniss, Karkum, Shiva, and old Cho, who'd since passed on, had thought he was mad to suggest such a thing. Perhaps he was, Karsh allowed. Mad with grief over what had happened to Aron. And to Miranda.

He had assured the Unity Council, of which he was then a senior member—was it only two years ago that he had retired from the ruling body? Ah, well. He had promised them that Ileana would rise to the occasion, though she was young, only a year older than the twins were about to become, Karsh realized.

Soon, very soon—next week, in fact—they would celebrate their fifteenth birthdays. Proof that though he might have been addled with sorrow when he appointed Ileana their guardian, he had not been wrong. They had survived, hadn't they? Survived and thrived. And would soon prepare for their initiation into the clan.

Karsh sighed and righted himself. "Ileana?" he called. "Are you in the garden?"

"Karsh, Karsh, I did it! I imitated your voice perfectly," she answered happily. "Not as perfectly as if I'd transmutated, but they thought it was you. At least Artemis did—until my impatience gave me away. She's the one I spoke to. Listen."

Through the bayberry hedge, he saw her sandaled feet resting on the table she'd had shipped form the mainland. Ileana had ordered the wrought-iron "garden set" from a Web site called Hollywood Chic—and when Karsh had balked at the price, she'd lectured him on stylishness and elegance. This was, of course, shortly after her trip to Los Angeles. Where it was not just "stylishness" she'd fallen for, but Brice Stanley, the handsome warlock who'd become a movie star.

Ileana set down her laptop, frightening Boris, who was on the table, lazing in the sun. He bounded away as she hopped up from her stylish wrought-iron chair and hurried to meet Karsh. "Violets, mint, chamomile," Ileana chanted in a strange, choked voice. "Sage, named for the Latin word for healing. Thyme, to inspire courage."

"Is that what I sound like?" Karsh asked, amused.

"Exactly," Ileana assured him.

"Well, I'm impressed—"

"With my impersonation?"

"That you remember your lessons on medicinal herbs. But you might have been more helpful to them—"

"Why? You've always believed in letting
me
learn through doing. They may be of noble blood but even princesses can profit from practice. For instance, transmutation—"

Weary, Karsh cut her off. "Truly, Ileana, I'm very impressed with your knowledge of—"

"Medicinal herbs, healing plants! Pooh!" Her gray eyes sparked angrily. "I only helped them to perfect my morphing, to show you that I am ready. I want to transmutate like a tracker. Like you! I don't care what she thinks. I want to do it."

Karsh hobbled through the archway in the hedge. And, unexpectedly, Ileana took his arm and helped him to one of her mail-order chairs. "By she, I assume you mean Lady Rhianna?" he said, easing himself onto the cold metal.

Ileana glanced around her wooded yard then up at the sky to be sure no surprises would sail into view. "Lady Potato," she whispered, though no one was in sight, "can get baked for all I care. With melted cheese and chives! The girls—
my
girls," she emphasized," are in trouble. "Thantos has sent someone to snare them. Or maybe he himself has transmutated! It's such an easy thing for a tracker to do. Maybe Thantos didn't send someone else. Maybe he has shape-shifted into the messenger."

Karsh was staring at Ileana's computer. There it was, emblazoned above the screen, the 3Brothers logo. Thantos's company had manufactured the hardware and, probably, most of the software it took to run it. So rich, and yet so greedy, Karsh thought. Ileana marched over and abruptly shut the laptop screen. "Okay, so I'm e-mailing Brice. Big deal. We've been... corresponding. Is that a crime?"

"Do you know who donated this computer—and all the others—to the island?" Karsh asked.

"Don't change the subject. I was saying that Thantos might even have morphed himself into the messenger! And face it, Karsh, you're far too old to take him on. But I could—"

"He would not be a messenger," Karsh said. "Lord Thantos is a busy man. A warlock used to 'delegating responsibility.' Getting others to do his bidding... his despicable dirty work."

Ileana stared curiously at Karsh. There was acid in his gravelly voice, a biting anger she'd rarely heard. What did he mean, what long-ago time was he thinking of, remembering? What terrible dirty work had Thantos assigned to someone else?

"Lord Karsh," Ileana said tenderly. He looked so weak, so fragile. Before she knew what she was doing, she had knelt before him. The thought of her beautiful silk cloak crumpled in the grass around her, her pale gown driven into the dirt by her own knees, disturbed her. But she brushed away such selfishness—for the first time, she realized.

"What makes you so... sad, Lord Karsh?" Ileana asked with a gentle affection that touched the old man's heart.

"You are right," he answered, "I am far too old." Taking her hand, he drew her to her feet, then he himself stood slowly. "I am no match for Lord Thantos. Let us hope I can still charm Lady Rhianna. She will be furious—"

"You're going to teach me to transmutate!" Ileana exclaimed.

"Yes, my brave dragon slayer." Karsh rubbed his dry, papery palms together. "Gather the proper crystals and herbs? Let us begin..."

"I hope it won't be bad karma," Amanda said, handing her candy-striper uniform to Cam in the hall outside their lockers. "Look." The inside of the pink apron was stamped PROPERTY OF MBM. "Mount Bay Medical. I forgot to turn it in."

"So that's why the cops came to school last week," Sukari teased. "Dag! And I thought it was to bust Eddie Robins."

"If this stunt goes wrong, they may show up again to arrest Cam," Beth grumbled, totally forgetting that she'd been sworn to secrecy.

"Stunt? What stunt?" Bree's satellite dish picked up Beth's blooper.

Alex stepped in front of Beth, who was wringing her hands and going, "Stunt? Who said stunt? Did I say stunt?"

"Thanks a bunch, Beth." Alex put on a disgusted face. "Now everyone knows what Cam's wearing for Halloween."

Bree's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Never," she said finally. "Like Cam would really come to her own birthday party in an apron! So not."

"Alex was going to be my patient," Cam insisted, working hard at keeping a straight face. "Weren't you, Als?"

Alex took a CVS bag out of her locker and began pulling out endless rolls of gauze bandage. "Well, I guess that blows that idea," she said. "We'll have to come up with something better."

It was Wednesday. Emily's book club night. Dave's chance to catch up on office work at home. Dylan was scheduled to meet his posse at the local skate park after school. And Cam and Alex were supposed to be having dinner at Beth's.

So it was all set. Mrs. Fish would pick them up at school and drop them at Mount Bay Medical, where, Beth had explained to her mother, they'd be participating in a Halloween party for patients.

"But what are you going as?" Beth's mom asked her daughter as the trio scrambled into the backseat of the Fish family SUV—Cam in her hospital volunteer apron, Alex with her head and arm bandaged like a mummy, and Beth in the same DKNY outfit, Kate Spade bag, and Skechers sports clogs she'd worn to school.

"A rich kid," Alex mumbled through her bandage muffled mouth.

"Oh, you mean like Cade?" Beth shot back.

Cam elbowed Beth. "Cut it. You know she's not speaking to him."

"I know that, but not why." Beth sounded offended. "Or why I'm supposed to let you guys know if I spot him at the hospital."

They'd told Beth how crucial she was to their mission. And for Cam, she was.

"What if this is a trap?" Cam had asked Alex two nights ago. "What if Thantos's messenger just wants to get us alone, like at a hospital where we don't really know anyone?"

"We'll deal with it," Alex promised. "All we need is a scout, a lookout—"

"Who'll be looking out for what?"

"You know. Possible, uh... messengers," Alex had said uncertainly.

After an hour of squabbling, they'd settled on three suspects: Cade (Cam's vote); Mr. Shnorer (Alex's candidate); and Madison (who'd won two thumbs-up).

As for their lookout, Dylan was in enough trouble, they decided. He couldn't afford to get mixed up in another risky scheme.

So it was—unanimously—Beth.

Who, right now, in the back of the SUV, was all bent out of shape because they had asked her to help them though they didn't explain why.

"After all, Camryn," she was complaining, "I'm just your humble servant, no longer your trusted confidante." Leaning forward, she told her mother, "I'm going as their humble servant, Mom. My costume's at the hospital."

"Confidante? After that blabbermouth move you pulled?" Alex snapped.

"How any times do I have to apologize?" Beth asked. "It was a mistake, okay? My bad. Let it go."

"Bethie, you are my confidante and best bud in the world," Cam assured her. "And I'm really grateful for your help."

"Me, too," Alex said. "The grateful part, anyway. I just don't feel like talking about Cade right now. He... he's not who I thought he was."

"I hope he's not who I think he is," Cam put in. "Beth, have you seen Madison at all this week? I have English with her and she never showed up—"

"No, but I forgot to tell you. She sent me an e-mail message. She's sick or something—"

"What's so weird about that?" Cam asked.

"I never gave her my e-mail address. Anyway, she said she's totally psyched about your party and she wanted to know what everyone was going to wear. Who was going as what. She said she'd be there no matter how sick she was."

"Speaking of missing English," Alex said, "Shnorer skipped out today, too. Amanda said she saw him going into Mrs. Hammond's office this morning, looking grossly bummed. And we had a sub for class—"

Beth's mother pulled into the circular drive in front of the hospital and dropped the girls off. "Call about fifteen minutes before you're ready to come home, all right? Kiss, kiss, Elisabeth. Have fun, girls."

They waited and waved until the car was out of sight. Then Cam took a deep breath and said, "Okay, Alex and I will hit the emergency room and try to snag a wheelchair. Beth, you find out exactly where the boy is. Which floor. His name's New-yon—" She pronounced it as the telephone receptionist had. "But the nurse said they call him Nelson... Nelson Tung."

The emergency room entrance was at the back of the hospital. While Beth hurried inside the front door to the patient information desk, Alex, leaning on Cam's arm as planned, hobbled around the side of the building.

"Have I got everything?" Cam nervously patted the bulging pockets of Amanda's apron. "The herbs. Your crystal. The incantation we made up. Do I have that or do you? Never mind, I know the words. I think. Let's see, I brought a couple of aroma candles, just in case. You know, one for stress, the other for wisdom. I hope I brought the wisdom candle. It's the same color as the romance one. Oh, and the violets—"

"I hope you brought a paper bag to breathe into," Alex murmured. " 'Cause you are having a first-class meltdown. Hyperventilating up a storm. It's going to look pretty funny, with these bandages and all, if I wind up having to wheel you in."

They came to a loading dock at which two ambulances were parked. On the platform, a wheelchair stood at the ready. Cam scrambled up the steps to get it, while Alex waited below, crouching behind one of the emergency vehicles.

"Hey!" A driver barreled out of the other ambulance, flicking away a smoldering cigarette with two fingers. He had a spare stashed behind his ear. "That's hospital property. Hands off, honey." Smoke snaked from his lips as he shouted at Cam.

Alex hollered back, "And that poster says, 'No Smoking. Oxygen in Use,'" she advised him, pointing to the large sign on the loading dock.

The startled driver stared at her. "What is this,
Night of the Living Dead?
" he snarled. "Halloween's a couple of days away, girlie."

"Not for you, it isn't," Cam said suddenly, her eyes riveted on the cigarette behind his ear.

"I said, leave that chair alone. Do I have to call security? You're playing with fire here, honey."

"He guessed." Alex laughed.

"Don't get smart with me."

"She can't help it," Cam told him, her burning eyes beginning to tear. "She's my twin."

"Don't make excuses, Cami. This guy's IQ is below room temperature."

"That does it, " EMS man growled.

"Hi, I'm Alex. I'll be your server today," Alex said as Cam's glare connected and a curl of smoke drifted from the driver's spare cigarette. "How would you like your ear? Well done, medium, or rare?"

Beth was waiting at the elevator bank. "Fifth floor, room five eleven," she told them. "I still don't get it, though. You had some premonition about this little boy, this Nelson whatever—that he needed your help?"

"How do we look?" Alex switched the subject.

"Like a hospital volunteer helping a deranged mummy."

"Forget it," Alex said. "We'll met you back down here."

"Don't forget to speed-dial me if you see—Cam started.

"I know, I know." Beth broke in, resigned. "Madison, Shnorer, or Cade."