Authors: Linda Joy Singleton
Tags: #young adult, #teen fiction, #fiction, #teen, #teen fiction, #teenager, #angst, #drama, #romance, #relationships, #fantasy, #urban fantasy, #psychic, #ESP, #seer series
“Let go,” I cried, trying to shake off Grey’s grip.
“Answer my question,” Grey demanded, his fingernails digging into my skin. “Where were you going?”
“To Genevieve’s cottage, not that it’s any of your business.” I glared at the freakishly white-blond hair on his young, sharp-angled face. Half-hidden under a hooded cloak, Grey looked more ghostlike than a real ghost.
“Where’s the real Jade?”
“You think I have a clone?” I bluffed. “There’s only one Jade, and you’re really pissing her off right now. Let go of me.”
“I know who you are—and you’re definitely not Jade. Maybe you can fool the others around here, but I’ve met both of you. Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” It was the truth. I had no sense of where she was now, although I hoped and prayed she’d told someone where I was and that help was on the way.
“You’re lying—but then that’s what you do best. You do not want to cross me. So I’ll ask again, nicely.” He smiled in a sicko way that made me think of serial killers in horror movies. “Where is Jade?”
“You’re hurting me. If you don’t let go, I’m going to scream very loud.”
“Scream and I really will hurt you.” He leaned close to my face and I expected his breath to smell wicked, like sulfur, but it was sweet like the buttery bread from dinner.
“Just leave me alone,” I snapped.
“You want to be treated like Jade?” he asked in a low, mocking tone. We were standing so close together that anyone glancing in our direction might think we were good friends. But Grey’s aura was darkened with hate and cruelty. Furious energy pulsed from him as he fanned his long cloak out, revealing a row of glinting daggers tucked into pockets of the dark fabric.
In a quicksilver move, he whipped out a unicorn-hilted dagger and pressed the cold blade against my throat.
I froze, as still as the solemn statues that lined the walkway. “Don’t,” I whimpered.
“Then do exactly what I say.”
“W—what?”
“For tonight, be my lovely assistant and create the illusion that you are mine,” he said with a dry chuckle. “It’s what they expect anyway, since when Jade came here I let them assume she was my girl.”
“She’s not, and I won’t pretend to be,” I hissed.
The knife slipped slightly, pricking my skin. Tears swam in my eyes.
“Walk now—back up the steps and into the lower-east wing. My room isn’t far from Josh’s room, which I know you just visited. Initiate rooms are private—not even Master Arturo will come in unless I invite him. But I’ve only invited one person. Can you guess who?”
He didn’t lower the knife, so I didn’t dare answer.
“Jade,” he told me. “Of course, you know—you’ve been conspiring with her all along. Is that why you’re masquerading in her place? I could force you to tell me where she is, but it doesn’t matter. One girl is as good as another. That’s why your secret is safe with me.”
“You aren’t going to tell anyone who I really am?” I asked, surprised.
“Why cause unnecessary complications? Jade is too afraid of me to tell anyone—she knows what I’ll do to Josh if she blabs. Besides, it’ll be over tomorrow night.”
Solstice, I thought. Everything seems to come back to the initiation ceremony. But Grey was wrong about Jade. She would bring help back. She was my sister and I trusted her.
“I’m going to make magician history once I win the competition,” he told me.
“What if Josh wins instead of you?”
“I’ve made sure I’ll win,” he said with a cunning smile. “My stage name will be known worldwide: ‘The Grey Ghost.’ My act will prove that ghosts are only illusion, and denounce fakers and charlatans like you and your grandmother and that candy-store bitch.”
He meant Velvet, and I shuddered. His aura smothered me like molten ash, making me weak and confusing my thoughts. No wonder Jade had been so scared of him.
“Watch your step—I wouldn’t want you to slip,” Grey said with a wry chuckle, his grip still iron-clad. “Your heart pounds so fast. Afraid of me?”
I pursed my lips defiantly.
We went down the same stairs that had led me to Josh earlier. I could see Josh’s room five doors down. I longed to call out to him, but I couldn’t with a knife at my throat. If only Josh would open his door and look out, he’d see the truth about Grey. But we stopped suddenly at a heavy door with no windows.
Grey slipped the knife back underneath his cape but kept a firm grip on my arm as he withdrew a set of keys from a pocket.
“Smile like we’re just out for a walk,” he warned. “My magic act is all about the brutal swiftness of the knife. If you try to run, I’ll drop you with a knife before you make it to the stairs. Then I’ll go after Josh.”
“He’s your friend.”
“He’s my competition.”
“Jade told me you threatened to kill him.”
“I’ll do what’s necessary,” he said, as if bragging. “Words hold great power, but actions speak louder. I warned Jade what would happen if she left.”
“Leave Josh alone!”
“It’s not as if he’d be much of a loss. Josh only plays at being a magician.”
“You’re afraid he’ll beat you in the competition,” I accused him.
“Not even,” he scoffed.
I mentally called out to Opal and any other spirits close by, a scream heard only inside my head. But there was no answer. I glanced down the hall again, sending out a silent SOS to Josh.
Open the door. Look down the hall. Please—before Grey forces me into his room and
… well, I didn’t know and was terrified to find out.
“Aren’t you curious about my act?” Grey said, his tone light, as if he enjoyed toying with me like a cat bats around a mouse before going in for the kill. “All the brotherhood will be astonished when they see the illusions I’ve created. It’s nearly ready, but a dress rehearsal could be interesting with you to assist me.”
He paused, studying me, then continued.
“When I reveal my act to the brotherhood, I’ll invite one of them to assist me. But they can’t practice with me or they’d learn my secrets. You’ll get a sneak-peak of the performance tonight—just like when Jade worked with me, before Master Arturo asked her to assist his wife.”
“I saw the cuts on her arm,” I told him.
“Unfortunately, Jade was clumsy. But I know you’ll try harder.”
He lifted his hand, a key poised to open his door.
Stall him!
a voice shouted in my head.
Do not go in that room!
“What will I have to do?” I asked. “I don’t know anything about stage tricks.”
“Not tricks—the art of illusion.”
“What’s the difference?”
He gave me an are-you-really-that-stupid look.
“My stage branding will be blades.” He stared off as if seeing his name in lights on a marquee. “You’ve heard of a magician cutting his assistant in half?”
“Isn’t that kind of cliché?”
“Not my version. I slice my assistant into fractions. Hair slithers from a head like escaping snakes, eyes fall from sockets and float in the air, and blood pools into a whirlwind that sweeps out to my audience. And you, Fake-Jade, will assist me tonight in a pract—”
“Jade!” a woman’s voice interrupted.
Grey and I both whirled toward the staircase where Genevieve stood. Her hands were on her hips and her face was flushed with irritation.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Genevieve complained. “Why didn’t you come back to dinner? I told you we weren’t finished working today.”
“You did?” My throat was so dry with fear my voice came out raspy.
“Don’t pretend you don’t remember. You can’t hide out with your boyfriend to avoid work. I’m sorry to steal her away, Grey, but I need her assistance.”
Grey’s hands dropped, too casually, to his sides.
“Of course,” he said, with a dismissive gesture toward me. “She’s all yours.”
“Come on, Jade. You’ve really disappointed me.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her.
But I wasn’t at all sorry. I was relieved and grateful. Although Genevieve was acting annoyed, I knew she was pretending. Her aura was pulsing with bright shades of shrewd awareness. She had a good idea what was going on.
She was here to rescue me.
With a glance down at the burning red marks on my arm, I eagerly—gratefully—accepted the rescue.
* * *
Genevieve didn’t speak on the short walk back to her cottage. I wondered what she was thinking and how much she knew. But she didn’t ask any questions, so neither did I. When we reached the cottage, she didn’t lead me upstairs for more practice. She offered me a glass of milk and a crispy apple tart.
“The dessert you missed,” she said kindly.
Cooked apples never tasted so good.
A short while later, as I slipped on an old-fashioned cotton nightgown, I told myself I would leave in the morning. Jade hadn’t sent help, so I was on my own.
I slept soundly—I saw no ghosts and didn’t astral-travel or get any messages from Opal. While the rest felt good, I was disappointed that the other side had abandoned me as well. To make things worse, the sky the next morning was dark with heavy clouds, threatening rain.
Slipping back into yesterday’s clothes, I readjusted my wig and applied some makeup I found on a mirrored dresser. I resumed my role as Jade.
The cottage was silent except for the whistling of wind that shivered the windows. I wandered around, not sure what I should do. Was breakfast served in the dining room? Should I go on my own, or wait for Genevieve?
Her bedroom door was ajar, so I peeked inside. She wasn’t there. I was starting up the stairs when I heard a sound and saw her coming in the front door, carrying a basket full of blossoming flowers.
“Good morning, Jade.” She greeted me so warmly that I felt a little guilty for planning to leave. I hoped she could find someone else to be her assistant.
“What are those for?” I pointed to the basket.
“Enjoyment. Fresh flowers are beautiful and smell wonderful. Wait a minute while I put them in a vase then we’ll go to breakfast. Are you hungry?”
I nodded.
The dining room wasn’t very full, only a few men at the main table. I waved to Frank, who was busy in the kitchen, then enjoyed fruit, sausage, and fluffy biscuits. Genevieve told me about her travels with her husband and how she was always so proud to work alongside him. They’d performed all around the world, which seemed very romantic. Her stories were interesting and showed me her softer side.
“Poor Arty doesn’t understand why I want to be a magician, too, not merely his assistant. He’s cross with me,” she admitted sadly. “But he’s giving me a chance. He’s taken a lot of flack for it, too, from the brotherhood. It’ll be tough to win their respect. But I’m determined to succeed.”
“You will,” I said, knowing my words would come true. But I also had a sense of a warning, as if her dreams would come at a high cost.
I hoped to sneak away after breakfast, but Genevieve wanted to practice the act again. It seemed kind of simple. All I had to do was drink some water from a cup, then pretend to faint. I didn’t understand how this could amaze anyone, but then, I wasn’t a magician.
As I practiced with Genevieve, I could sense a presence hovering close by. Zathora’s ghost, I thought, eyeing the wardrobe. Her death had been so tragic and things hadn’t improved much if she was still hanging around. I could guide her to the other side, if I could speak to her alone.
When Genevieve announced that we were done and said she was going to take a nap, I felt a ripple of excitement. I could finally leave! But why not take a few minutes before I left to help Zathora cross over?
I went to my room and waited about twenty minutes. Then I tiptoed to the staircase, glancing over at Genevieve’s closed bedroom door. I stepped softly on the stairs, careful to avoid the middle one that sometimes creaked. At the top of the stairs, I hesitated, trying to remember what Nona had told me about helping ghosts stuck in limbo.
Be confident, and tell them firmly it’s time to go to the light.
As I reached out to open the door, I stopped.
Was I hearing voices from inside?
Pressing my ear against the wood, I listened. Yes, definitely voices, both female. Genevieve and another voice I didn’t recognize, which spoke with a rolling accent, perhaps Spanish or Italian.