Evelina and the Reef Hag (5 page)

“Yeah!” Kamaria made a fist in the air. “Well, watch it next time, zombie girl, or I’ll pop ya’ one!”

“All right, all right!” Evelina held up a hand. “Who let you out of your bottle?”

“Who do ya’ think, Toots?”

Evelina gazed over her shoulder at the shadowed interior of the beach house.
Kamaria’s
bottle sat beside the door. Only Udora or Mrs. Segal could have popped the cork. But, they were no where in sight. The place appeared deserted.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Kamaria fanned out both hands, examining her glossy red nails. “You’re
ridin
’ with me tonight.”

Evelina gritted her teeth. It wasn’t the flying she worried about. It was the landing. Kamaria had logged more crashes than flights. Evelina preferred not to arrive at the Glaring in a mangled heap.

But novices didn’t have the skill to fly. At least, they weren’t taught how until second year when they became apprentices. Even after that, they weren’t adept until they became mentors. Until then, she was in for a lot of bumpy rides, so she might just as well suck it up and get this one over with.

“Where are we going?” The aunties were always tight-lipped, but Kamaria loved to blab whenever she could. “Where is this Glaring thing anyway?”

“Out there.” Kamaria pointed at the vast ocean beyond, across the rippled sand. “On the island.”

The Flurry was held on an island as well—something the two competitions had in common. Was this also an island that mortals couldn’t see? A better question was, how were they going to find it in the dark? She would have pointed that out, but Kamaria tended to get a tad prickly when it came to flight plans. Instead, she asked, “How far?”

“A few minutes—lucky for you. Suit up.” Kamaria cocked her thumb toward the orange striped beach bag propped against the door. “Time’s a wastin’.”

Evelina retrieved the bag, yanking out the silk emerald tunic. Memories rushed back as she jerked it over her head. The wildness of the Flurry changed her life forever. What life altering event was she in for tonight?

“Grab on, Toots!” Kamaria bent forward cracking her knuckles and wiggled her wings. “They’ll be hell to pay if we’re late. I’ve already suffered through flight training twice thanks to you. So, shake a leg!”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Evelina stepped closer to the rail just in time to witness Kamaria morph before her eyes. Moon fairies doubled in size every hour, once out of the bottle. You couldn’t put them back until they’d completed their mission, or shut them up.

Kamaria’s
lips kept on flapping. “You ratted me out, ya’ little fink!”

“I did not! You crashed. Or don’t you remember?” Evelina grabbed on to her sparkling red suit just behind her gossamer wings. “There were witnesses. Remember? Let’s just hope the extra training did some good,” she muttered under her breath.

Kamaria took off without warning, springing into the air.

Evelina clutched on for dear life, flesh tingling, marvelling that such a small being possessed such power.

Wind slashed her cheeks as they soared higher and higher.

Her lips turned salty.

Her head grew light.

A giddy rush made her blood bubble, as they raced through the air at breakneck speed.

Flying was the best part of being a witch. She quivered at the thought of flying on her own one day. It couldn’t come soon enough.

She tried not to look down at the frothy ocean rolling beneath them, or think about sharks. Better to save her energy for the landing ahead. Tuck and roll, isn’t that what they always said? If she lucked out they’d plough into a nice pile of soft sand.

Kamaria dipped lower,

zooming down,

down,

down,

into a wide arc.

Evelina broke out in a sweat.

Kamaria did a loop in the air like a stunt plane.

Evelina stifled a scream.

Her belly bottomed out as they skidded to a halt in a patch of tall cattails.

“Not to shabby, eh, Toots?” Kamaria said, coming to her feet, brushing fluff from the backside of her red suit. “I’ve learned a thing or two since ya’ flew with me last.”

“Not bad.” Evelina struggled to her feet on wobbly limbs. It could have been worse, she had to admit. Maybe flight school had done Kamaria some good after all. Still, a little fine-tuning might be in order. Evelina forced diplomacy into her tone, “Maybe next time, head for the sand though.”

“Maybe next time you can fly your sorry self!” Kamaria screeched. “Oh yeah!” She folded her arms under her bosom, tapping her toe. “I just remembered. You can’t fly, can ya’. And another thing…”

Evelina reached into the pocket of her tunic to pull forth the little green bottle. She yanked out the brown cork. And,

Pop!

Kamaria shrank, and shrank, until her voice turned from a squeal to a peep.

Then,

Whoosh!

She was sucked back into the tiny green bottle like smoke up a chimney.

Evelina replaced the cork, stuck the bottle in her pocket, then brushed off her hands.

Well, that was enough Moon Fairy lip for one night.

There was no more time to ponder it. The murmur of voices and laughter drew Evelina down a sandy path, lit by the glowing moon, past swaying palms and whispering grass. The rush of the surf slowly blended to a distant hush.

The voices and laughter grew louder, mingling with the splash of water.

The path suddenly ended. Evelina found herself by a lagoon, in a clearing, with tall cliffs on one side. A waterfall plunged to a dark pool below. A vine covered in lacy white flowers clambered up one side.

The lemony scent of them drifted everywhere.

A
sea
of
Water Witches
gathered around the pool draped in blue, green, white and gold, like ancient goddesses, under the light of a firefly chandelier.

Evelina rose on her tip toes, scanning the crowd.

She needed to find Lily and discover what she knew.

Udora and Mrs. Segal pounced on Evelina before she had time to take it all in.

“There you are, my dear,” Mrs. Segal said. “I despaired of you making it on time. I told Udora, Kamaria was a poor choice for transport. Didn’t I, Udora?” She turned briefly to her sister, then back to Evelina. “I said, ‘fifty crash landings out of seventy-four, hardly warrants a second chance,’ but Udora insisted. I protested. I truly did. But, here you are in time, so we must thank the celestial heavens for that.”

Udora sent her a sidelong glance. “I will pray all night if you will shut your blessed trap.”

“Oh my!” Mrs. Segal spilled forth a hoot of mirth. “She doesn’t mean it of course. The thought of a Glaring always sets her on edge. I do get excited myself. All of those warlocks flexing their powers.” She sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth. “Not knowing how it will end.”

“Whatever happens,” Udora levelled her gaze on Evelina, “it must not end in gold.”

“Good heavens, no!” Mrs. Segal put a hand to her breast. “Never! I’m sure she knows that.”

They meant the Swamp Hags, of course, who wore gold tunics. Rumors had increased of their affiliations with dark magic and the pedaling of black market spells.

The conch shell sounded.

“It’s time,” Udora said with little expression, pressing Evelina’s hand in hers. “Good luck.”

“Oh my! That’s it. All the time we have.” Mrs. Segal crushed Evelina to her bosom. “Off you go, my dear. See you Monday.”

Evelina spotted Abby, waving madly as she wove her way through the thick of the crowd.

Tally followed at her elbow like a dangling appendage.

They converged midway just as Evelina spotted Lily near the edge of the pool.

Lily waved, hopping in the air to be seen over the heads of the crowd.

But it was too late to get to her.

“Welcome!”
Delmare
Fontanne,
Councilor
of White Water, announced. Her smile revealed the gap between her two front teeth, making them appear as square as two pieces of gum. The rest of her sparkled just as white. “Allow me to
preethent
,” she lisped, “Our Diviner,
Cordelia
Nawfar,
Councilor
of
Oceana
, our
hoth
for the Glaring—her last event before the crown is passed to
Councilor
Burble.”

Lake
of the Isles won the Flurry, but apparently
Oceana
finished out the year before the position of Diviner switched over to Brooklyn Burble. After ten years Nawfar must have some juicy secrets to share.

Councilor
Nawfar rose from her chair made of two giant clam shells.

The crowd erupted in applause.

Brooklyn Burble,
Councilor
of Lake of the Isles, Evelina’s tribe, and Nebula Sludge,
Councilor
of the Swamp Hags, stood to clap.

“Welcome to Camp
Wic
-A-Muck and the Glaring.”
Councilor
Nawfar’s
humble tone belayed the regal tilt of her chin under her seashell crown of pearls and polished green glass. She had the look of a sweet granny with her short white curls and pretty smile, but the spear like staff in her hand with the red beryl crystal spoke of the power she welded as Diviner. “An important event in which you will not compete, but nonetheless play a pivotal role. Since, it determines who sits on the Witches’ Council next.”

Murmurs and whispers followed this speech.

“I thought you had to be dead to sit on it,” Abby whispered from behind her hand.

“You do,” Tally whispered back. ”But, whoever wins gets to elect the next witch or warlock from their tribe.”

“Silence!” Nebula Sludge hissed, her thin lips twisting in a sneer as she eyed the crowd from under her pile of snaking flaxen curls.

Nawfar continued in the same benevolent tone, “Your councilors will direct you to your camp. As always each tribe will have three camps, one for novices, one for apprentices, and one for mentors. Remember,” The place grew dead silent, “The Glaring belongs to the warlocks. You may advise, but must not interfere or risk expulsion. I hope that is clear. Good luck!”

The crowd clapped.

Brooklyn Burble trotted over beaming from ear to ear. “Greetings, girls!” She sang, towering over them. “So good to see you. Here is the map to your camp.” She handed Evelina a rolled up piece of birch bark. “I’ll check in directly. The mentors have need of me first, I’m afraid.” She tilted her head of tossed nut curls and smiled. “After all, they are security.” She turned to go, then stopped in her tracks, saying over her shoulder, “Oh, and do hurry. There are rewards at stake for the team who arrives at camp first.”

The conch sounded.

Evelina unrolled the birch bark scroll, heart pounding fast.

Chapter Four

The map to the camp turned out to be more of a spy glass with night vision. When Evelina tried to unroll it, it screamed. She squinted one eye, peering down the long tube.

A florescent green line appeared.

“Okay, follow me!” She darted down the murky path.

Abby and Tally’s footfalls thumped behind her, the beams from their flashlights bouncing ahead like dancing moons.

There wasn’t a moment to lose.

They needed to reach their camp first.

A reward was at stake.

Any creature comfort was welcome in this wild place. Who knew what awaited them at camp. Right now all she could see was a bull’s eye at the end of the snaking green line.

They seemed to run for miles in the darkness, with the yellow moon following them through the trees.

The eerie screech of a bird gave her a start.

Her lungs burned.

But she raced on, over gnarly roots—round, flowering, red hibiscus and delicate, pink acacia trees—down paths littered with coconuts, until her legs turned to noodles and her chest ached.

The rush of the surf grew louder and louder.

She kept one eye on the spyglass, another on the path.

Just one more twist and they were there.

Panting for air, they emerged from the trees onto a beach.

The salt wind buffeted against Evelina’s cheeks as she gazed up at the starry sky. “This is it!” She gasped. “We’re here!”

“What?” Tally wailed, between gulps of air. “No shelter!”

So much for her new-found confidence.

“Welcome to the tropics,” Abby said, bent over with her hands on her knees breathing hard.

A red and green parrot swooped down to land on Tally’s head. “Welcome! Welcome!” It squawked.

“Get it off!” Tally danced around trying to dislodge the thing. “I hate birds.”

“Who hates birds?” Abby offered her arm to the parrot. “Poor thing, come to me,” she crooned.

“It’s their beak or something.” Tally shivered. “It creeps me out.”

Something twinkled through the bowing palms.

The bird flew off.

“Look!” Evelina pointed in the direction of the light. “There’s something over there. Come on!”

A tree fort materialized high above them, big and round, like a giant crow’s nest, built high in the air between four palms. It appeared sturdy enough, with its bamboo walls and thatch roof of palm leaves. A bamboo rail surrounded a deck weaving around it.

The question was, how did they get up there? There didn’t appear to be any rope ladder. There must be some way up.

“What is this, some kind of a test?” Abby stalked the perimeter. “What are we supposed to do, pop ourselves up there?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try a spell or two.” Tally tapped her lips with one finger, as though considering her options. But she’d never cast a spell to Evelina’s knowledge. Unless, she’d been practicing on mortal time, which seemed unlikely. Tally was all about the rules.

Poof!

Councilor
Burble popped in. “Congratulations!” She trilled. “You’ve come in second. Well done.”

“Second! “ Abby wore a look of outrage. “Who came in first?”

“
Oceana
.” Burble beamed. “We must congratulate them on their victory when we see them next.”

“Shit!” Abby expelled. “Sue,” she added quickly. “I mean Shih Tzu. I mean wow! Good for them.”

 
“What do we get?” Tally inquired, ever the pragmatist. The sting of defeat seemed to barely faze her. Her brain kept on turning. No need to crank her ears.

“Here it is now.” Burble pointed skyward, appearing extraordinarily pleased.

A white Air Jet zoomed toward them, through the hanging vines, like a flying scooter in overdrive. It looked like one of the
Oceana’s
mentors straddling it. Her inky ponytail flapped against her neck as she putted to a halt, hovering before Burble long enough to offer her a white clam and a big-toothed smile.

The wavy clam burped.

Three bubbles bounced out.

The first one popped, dropping a mask and snorkel, the second one burst to reveal three red sleeping bags, and the third a giant willow basket filled with fruits and vegetables.

“Excellent!” Burble clapped her hands. “Well done, ladies!”

“What did first place get?” Evelina couldn’t help ask.

“A war canoe, fishing gear, and a vegetable garden.” Burble sounded pleased for them. “Here’s your torch.” She snapped her fingers and a bamboo torch appeared in her hand. “Do not extinguish it. It’s your source of power for the duration of the competition.”

Evelina took charge of the precious flame, marvelling at the intricacy of the carving. It resembled a grotesque mask with its hair on fire. When the bottom touched the ground two electrical outlets popped out.

“What do you think?” Burble sang, waving a hand at the tree fort above, like the ringleader of a circus. “Marvellous, isn’t it?”

“Nice.”
Evelina
gazed up at the giant tree fort. “But how do we get up there?”

“Bang the knockers, of course.” Burble marched forward between the four palms, then pulled on a dangling vine. The hollow clatter of coconuts followed. A bamboo swing dropped down from the trees. “Hop on.” She planted herself on the swing, then pulled the vine again. She went flying up into the air, disappearing through a trap door.

The girls exchanged startled glances.

Evelina gave the vine a tug.

The swing descended with a
whoosh
.

She hopped on, then yanked it again. Laughter bubbled up in her throat as she flew up into the air. The next thing she knew she’d landed on her feet and the swing disappeared down the trap like an elevator.

Tally arrived wearing a
perma
-grin.

Abby laughed out loud when her feet hit the floor.

“Get a good night’s sleep,” Burble said. “Tomorrow is a very busy day.” She gave a tug on her ear.

And poof!

She was gone.

Evelina blinked, staring at the spot where she’d been. It was unsettling to have people suddenly disappear. She’d never get used to them just popping in and out like that.

She did a three sixty, gazing around the tree fort. “Wow.” It was big. It smelled of pineapple and coconut. A complete kitchen with a bar and bamboo stools occupied one end. Further exploration revealed tidy shelves with stacks of wooden cups and bowls.

“Welcome to paradise.” Abby hopped up into one of the red canvas hammocks swinging from the rafters. She stretched out with her hands behind her head and grinned. “I think I’m going to like it here.”

Evelina leaned over the rail, listening to the lapping of the ocean below. “I wonder what the warlocks are doing right now?”

“Logic would dictate the same thing as we are.” Tally said in superior tones. “I assume they’re settling in.”

Logic? Logic had nothing to do with it. They were Water Witches. Evelina resisted the urge to point this out.

“I wouldn’t mind having a look myself.” Abby had that reckless look in her eye—the kind Evelina always found hard to resist. “Maybe we should go over and find out.”

A thrill ran through Evelina. “What do you mean?”

“I know where they are.” Abby grinned, teeth flashing white in the darkness. “Cliff let it slip last night. They’re on the other end of the island.”

The rhythmic sound of drumbeats echoed in the distance, then disappeared.

“What was that?” Tally whispered, pupils growing as large as grapes.

Abby rushed to the railing to lean over, as though straining to hear. “The Glaring.” She turned back around. “It’s begun.

***

 
“We’re spying, you know,” Tally whispered fiercely.

“I know,” Abby said in hushed tones, brimming with excitement. “Isn’t it great?”

Evelina put a finger to her lips.

The last thing they needed was to get caught.

The palms were already rustling thanks to Tally’s shivers.

What they were doing was wrong. But it probably wasn’t the first time witches had spied on warlocks. It must have been going on for centuries. So many secrets couldn’t help but incite curiosity.

There were only so many things you could ask during a short Cosmic Call. And she had so many questions. Like what the warlocks did at their council meetings—something she hoped to discover tonight.

Besides, she wanted to see them in action—find out what really made them tick.

“Looks kind of boring.” Abby spread the rushes wider, leaning closer. “I was hoping for loincloths or something.”

Weren’t they all? Evelina silently nodded in agreement. It seemed unfair that they raced around in silk tunics with the wind up their skirts, while warlocks wore surf shorts in their tribe’s colors.

The deep
dooom
,
dooom
,
dooom
of a drum filled the air with a steady hollow beat.

Evelina’s gaze flew past the enchanted drum with no musician, to the lagoon alit with bamboo torches. A line of older warlocks filed up to fill their hollow coconuts. They looked to be the age of mentors—maybe nineteen.

Steam rose like sea spray above the massive tortoise shell bowl bubbling before the councilors. They wore surf shorts, but were bare-chested like the younger warlocks. Impressive necklaces of polished coral, shark’s teeth and green sea glass hung around their necks, setting them apart from the rest.

“Acheron Wolf,” Tally whispered as the lanky, black-haired
councilor
of the Swamp Hogs ladled out the hissing brew.

Evelina sniffed the air. “Smells like Blue Moon tea.”

“What’s up with that?” Abby sounded disgusted. “They’re
trippin
’ out on Blue Moon tea, while we’re runnin’ our tails off.”

Blue Moon tea was a sedative. Evelina remembered Udora giving it to Mrs. Segal to ease her aches and pains the night of the bath bomb fiasco. It made her talk all night in her sleep, spouting crazy, nonsensical things. Evelina had to ram her head under her pillow to finally get to sleep.

But, why did they need to be sedated?

A moment later her question was answered.

Each warlock waited their turn to lie down on a log bench. She couldn’t believe what happened next. The
councilor
from
Oceana
grabbed a slithering lamprey eel from a bucket, then stuck it on the heel of the Warlock.

“Sydney
McCrystal
,” Tally supplied. “He’s still the Diviner.”

The young warlock grimaced in pain while the eel’s tail writhed in the air.

McCrystal
nodded his head of wild white hair toward the next victim.