Read Witch & Wizard 04 - The Kiss Online
Authors: James Patterson
The strong emotion makes my M go haywire, and I can’t help heating up defensively.
No
, I think.
Not now.
But the people grabbing my legs are already shrieking as their hands blister.
I stop my magic abruptly and crash to the ground.
I have to fix this
, I think.
I have to explain.
But the roiling panic of the crowd has boiled over, and the conference is collapsing into a hate rally of antimagic slurs.
“Dark demon!” a woman spits at me. “Child killer!”
No one seems to care that this is all based on the claims of one man. They’re afraid. And fear makes people very dangerous.
I look around for the most dangerous coward of them all, but he’s slipped out of sight.
“General Bloom,” I yell. This isn’t over yet. “Speaker Bloom!”
One of Bloom’s lackeys leans into the microphone. “No further questions,” he says, and all I can do is gape at the chaos Bloom left in his wake.
He just crucified us on TV—with lies!
AS WE PUSH through the sea of reporters shouting angry questions, I wish I could stay and answer them—grab each microphone and erase the poison of Bloom’s lies with truth.
But right now, we just have to get out of here.
In my rush to escape the frenzied crowd, I trip in my stupid heels and fly forward down the last few steps of the Capitol building, my face nearly smashing into the stones of the square.
“I came as soon as I heard.” Heath pulls me up and hugs me against him. I bury my face in his neck, trying not to sob. I’ve never been happier to see anyone in my life. I’m thankful that Janine’s here, too. “This is madness,” she says with wide eyes as she corrals us down a side street, away from the cameras. I see other Resistance kids farther up the block—Sasha and Emmett, and…
“Mama May?” I ask, barely recognizing the disheveled woman calling my name.
It’s Mrs. Neederman, all right—the woman who once sheltered me and Whit when we were wanted criminals. Even in the darkest days of the New Order, her bright voice kept everyone’s spirits up. I remember her whole body shaking with laughter as she hugged me, her huge arms swallowing me up.
Now, her face is thinner and drawn, and her eyes have given up.
“We saw you on the news,” she tells us as we walk. “What the Speaker said, about you being involved with the kidnappers—”
“He’s lying!” I grasp her hands desperately, needing her to believe me even if no one else does. “Everything Bloom said was a lie!”
“We would never do something like that,” Whit reassures her.
“I know you wouldn’t, honey,” Mama May says. She looks from me to Whit, her big chin quivering. “I know because my baby Pearl Marie is one of those kids.”
It’s like another punch in the gut.
“Pearl?” My brother gapes, anguish written all over his face. “We didn’t even know she was missing….”
“The Watch investigated every kid,” Sasha says, distraught. He pulls a notebook from his pocket and starts thumbing through it. “I swear, she wasn’t on the list!”
Mama May worries her apron in her hands, looking ashamed. “We were afraid to report her. The One used lists….” She shrugs helplessly. “And Pearl was so smart. She knew the streets so well. We thought she would come back, but she…”
Her eyes overflow with tears, and this time I’m the one comforting Mama May, cradling her against me like a child.
I can picture Pearl’s small, pointed features and her honest, gray eyes, holding everyone accountable. She acted so jaded, waving her pocketknife, but she smiled at the Holiday lights like any other seven-year-old would.
For all the terrible things that have happened today, this feels worst of all.
“I’m going to find Pearl,” Whit promises. He puts a hand on Mama May’s shoulder and squeezes it. “I’m going up the Mountain.”
My heart stops.
What did he just say?
“HOW COULD YOU promise her something like that?” I demand, my voice scaring up a flock of pigeons from the street.
Whit says I’m impulsive, but I at least had the sense to wait until Mama May left before I confronted him.
“How do you know the Mountain King is even the kidnapper? You’re going to trust
Bloom
?”
“No,” Whit says tightly. “I’m going to trust my instincts.” Then he looks at me, his face softening, and for a second our old closeness returns. “Remember that night with the visions, Wist?”
I remember the horrible images, and the way he winced in pain. He was acting so weird afterward, too, so not like my brother—so agitated and
scared
.
“I was feeling what Pearl was feeling, even if I didn’t understand it then.”
I nod. I know Whit and Pearl had a special connection, and I don’t blame him for wanting to risk everything to go after her. I should go, too. I should
trust him
, but…
“You can’t leave the City now!” Heath says, seemingly reading my thoughts. Whit wheels around and shoves him against the stone wall.
“Does it interfere with your
plans
?” Whit asks, his glare full of daggers.
“I just didn’t think you’d enjoy seeing your parents behind bars again,” Heath answers icily, and straightens the collar of his leather jacket.
“Stop it!” I look from Heath to Whit angrily, but I know Heath is right. That press conference was a horror show. If we leave, every citizen who watched the news will believe Bloom’s claim that magicians are working with the Mountain King. Who will stand up for our rights? Even if we make peace with the Mountain King, we’ll return to another prison state.
“What about what Mom and Dad said, about winning back the people?” I remind my brother, trying another angle. I know that as strong-willed as he is, he trusts our parents. “If we can just deal with Bloom first…”
Whit’s jaw tightens. For one long moment, I think he’s swayed, but then he shakes his head, and I know there’s no changing his mind.
“Bloom’s not the biggest threat. Celia said the Mountain King is a psychopath. And if he has Pearl…”
Celia? Where does Celia fit in here? She’s
dead
! Gone!
“What are you talking about? When were you going to tell me this?”
“I don’t know—when you were babbling about your date? When you were throwing me out of your apartment?” Whit sighs heavily and rubs his forehead in frustration. “I’m telling you
now
. Someone has to try to negotiate with the Mountain King, no matter what the Council says. I’m going.”
“I’m going with you, then,” Janine says, standing next to my brother.
“I’m going, too,” Sasha says. He looks at me apologetically. “We haven’t caught any of the kidnappers. It’s time to go to the source.”
Emmett puts up his hands, unwilling to choose, but Whit isn’t looking at him anyway.
“Wisty?” His eyes are pleading.
“I…” There’s a knot in my chest, and my eyes flit between Whit and Heath.
Do I really have to choose?
“I…” But I can’t get the words out—my throat is so dry.
Heath slides a hand around my waist. I’m not sure if it’s because we merged our magic, but I can almost feel the power in it, the support.
You’re needed here
, that touch seems to remind me.
Stay. Stay.
“Think of your parents, Wisty,” Heath says gently. “You told me you lost them once. You can’t lose them again.”
Heath is right. Whit is trusting his instincts, and I have to trust mine.
I drop my eyes. “I’m not going, Whit,” I say finally, sighing.
“So that’s how it is? You’re choosing him over your own family?” My brother’s words burn like acid in a wound.
“That’s not fair,” I start to protest. “I need to be here for Mom and Dad. For the people who are our family now, too.”
But Whit’s face darkens. “You know that’s not the real truth. You’ll be here babysitting an old politician and cozying up with your boyfriend.”
I’m furious with him, but my heart is aching, and I’m already doubting my decision. Whit’s not even looking at me now, though.
He’s walking away, with Janine and Sasha on his heels.
“Don’t do this,” I plead, stepping out from under Heath’s arm toward my brother. “Whit—”
“We’re going to try to stop a war,” he says. He looks back at me one more time, his expression unyielding. “With or without you.”
THE SECOND TRUTH: TRUST IS A FLICKERING FLAME
IT’S SO MUCH WORSE than we expected.
I expected these towering trees, creaking and swaying around us like drunken giants. And I expected this cold wind that rips through to our bones. But we didn’t expect this:
A man behind bars.
A woman shot through with arrows.
A head with a dripping axe next to it.
The silhouetted face of a wolfish creature with a gaping mouth full of spearlike teeth.
There are signs posted on trees every ten or twenty paces, crudely drawn on barklike parchment, painted in what might have been blood.
“What do they say?” Ross asked, peering at letterforms on the signs that we don’t recognize.
“Rest stop ahead,” Sasha answers, deadpan, but panting in between words. “Fuel, food, beds, and clean bathroom facilities, one mile.”
Ross jabs Sasha playfully. “That’s what I thought. For a second, I thought they might be warning us of our imminent deaths.”
“Silly you,” Janine quips, just before the rocks break away under her feet and she scrambles to gain footing as they tumble down the hillside. With an instant protective reflex, I steady her.
“Don’t say the words ‘imminent death,’ ” I tell Ross. “You just jinxed us, man.”
“So does that mean if I say ‘clean bathroom,’ one will suddenly appear?” he asks, and it’s good for a chuckle.
I’m thankful that I have friends here to help keep spirits up as we struggle endlessly through the harshest environment we’ve ever been in. Janine and I are up in front, followed by Sasha and Ross behind. I picked up Feffer, our trusty dog, from my parents’ house, and she wanders through the woods next to us, her ears pricking at the tiniest sound.
When the conversation lulls for a minute, the sound of our teeth chattering hard feels almost deafening, so I keep talking to distract us. “So, Sasha, did you say Emmett’s heading up the City Watch?”
Sasha nods. “He wanted to come, but someone had to stay behind and keep things running.” He frowns at the sheet of rock rising up in front of us. “I noticed Byron didn’t jump at the chance to come on this little adventure, either.”
“I asked him not to. I need him to keep an eye on Wisty.” I shake my head, thinking of heartbroken Byron Swain. To be honest, I don’t think I could’ve dragged him away from her if I’d tried.
“That sounds like something Wisty will really appreciate,” Janine says, giving me a wry look from under her ice-encrusted scarf.
I sigh in frustration and slash at the branches blocking our path, my arm getting sore from the constant work. “Wisty’s going to do what she’s going to do. But she shouldn’t be left alone with that creep.”
Why wouldn’t you just come with us, Wisty?
I think for the millionth time. After Bloom’s little TV show, the City will be a dangerous place for magicians—perhaps even more dangerous than here.
“Another one,” Sasha says as he plucks the weathered sign from an ancient tree.
Okay, maybe
not
more dangerous than here…
The sign shows a figure that’s headless, armless, and leaking dark fluid. The knot in my stomach tightens.
“Maybe you guys should head back,” I say uneasily. “I can go on alone.”
“And miss all the excitement when the welcome party shows up?” Janine smiles through cracked lips and gives my hand a squeeze. “Shut up, macho man. I’m staying with you.”
“I’ll turn back when all of us do,” Sasha agrees.
“Besides, old Feff here will tell us when we have to worry,” Ross adds, patting the dog’s side.
I nod doubtfully, noting that Feffer’s looking a little wary already, though whether it’s from a current threat or a lingering skittishness, I couldn’t say—the pup’s been through a lot in the past year.
We’ve all been through a lot.
I look at my friends’ flushed faces, resigned to the task, and wish it didn’t have to be this way. A normal person wouldn’t ask this of people he loved. A smart person would turn back. A sane person would be terrified.
And I am.
I shiver, looking at the horrific image on the sign and at the white cliff of rock before us. I try not to think of the million dark corners of the forest at our back, a million hiding places where eyes might be peeking out, watching us, readying their attack.
Oh, yes, I’m terrified.
But the Mountain King has threatened the City.
He’s taken our water supply.
And he has Pearl.
I snap the bloody warning sign into pieces and fling them aside, and push on toward the next boulder.
What choice do I have?
I LIFT MY HAND to the knocker, holding my breath.
The wooden door swings open on its hinges, and a familiar, weathered face peers out. His long gray braid hangs over his shoulder.
“Hi, Hewitt,” I say tentatively, hoping I’m still welcome at the Neederman home.
“Wisty!” His eyes light up. “Mama May told us she saw you. Have you heard from Whit…?”
The guilt twists in my stomach again. I shake my head, hating to kill the hope on his face. “No news. I just wanted to come by to say I’m sorry. I was just going to leave these….” I hold out a tin of cookies—store-bought, since I’m likely to blow up an oven if I try to cook anything.