Spirits and Spells (15 page)

Her words were cut off as a tentacle grasped her about the waist, squeezing out her breath. She felt herself lifted from the floor. For a horrible moment she dangled above the flames, felt them licking at her arms, her legs, her face. Then she was sailing through the air.

She struck the wall on the far side of the hallway and slid to the floor, choking and sobbing, gasping for air. Denise was beside her. An instant later Jenny hurtled from the room, followed shortly by Derek, and then Matt.

Tansy waited for Arthur to throw Travis clear of the flames.

Nothing happened.

“Arthur!” cried Tansy, struggling to her feet. “Arthur, where's Travis?”

“I can't find him!” yelled the monster. His voice was desperate—and weak. “The smoke is too thick. I can't see anything!”

“Get out!” cried Jenny. “You have to get out of there now!”

“No!” screamed Tansy.

Denise grabbed her arm. “He has to,” she whispered fiercely. “If he doesn't, he'll die, too!”

Tansy began to sob. Denise put her arms around her and held her close.

“Arthur!” cried Derek. “Get out!”

“I can't! I can't get past the flames.”

“Reach out to us!” yelled Matt. “We'll pull you!”

Side by side, Matt and Derek stood in front of the door, coughing and gagging as the smoke filled their lungs. A moment later two tentacles came thrusting through the flames. Each of the boys grabbed one.

“We've got trouble,” said Matt. Though Arthur's tentacle was wrapped around his forearm, the monster's grip was dangerously weak.

“Just pull!” yelled Derek.

They braced their legs and began to tug. It felt as if they were dragging a dead weight. Matt glanced at Derek. “Do you think we've lost him?”

“Just pull!” repeated Derek fiercely.

They braced their feet and drew even harder. Suddenly Derek fell backward. The tentacle he had been holding came flying through the doorway like a rubber band that has snapped after being stretched too far. Yellow ooze dripped from the severed end.

“Arthur!” cried Derek. He leaped to his feet and rushed into the flaming room.

“Matt, keep pulling!” screamed Denise. She stepped in beside him and hauled on the tightly stretched tentacle. Suddenly a large, lumpish form appeared in the doorway.

“Pull!” cried Denise again.

Arthur was halfway through the door now. Derek stood behind him, desperately trying to push him the rest of the way. Arthur's body was holding down the flames. It made a horrible hissing sound.

“Pull!” cried Denise a third time, and then Arthur was through the door. Derek, soot-smeared and blistered, came scrambling after him.

“His tentacles!” yelled Tansy. “We've got to get his tentacles out!”

All five players began hauling at Arthur's outstretched tentacles. Tansy felt sick. The usually slimy skin was dry and blistered; in places it was cracking, showing the muscle underneath. She hauled out one tentacle and then another. When the third came through the door, she saw that it was clutching the golden sword.

The hallway was starting to fill with flames.

Tansy reached for another tentacle and found they were all free.

She looked at Arthur. The creature's eyes were closed, and he was gasping for breath. His whole body was charred and blistered. The stumps where he had lost tentacles were still oozing. Jenny knelt on the floor beside him, cradling the top of his head in her lap.

“You saved us,” she said softly. “We owe you our lives.”

“I failed,” gasped the creature. “I couldn't save Travis.”

“Shhh,” whispered Jenny. “You did the best you could. The rest of us would all be dead if it weren't for you.”

Tears seeped from beneath the creature's eyelids.

Tansy knelt beside him. Inside she was screaming, aching over Travis. But she knew Arthur had done more than anyone could ask. Touching him gently, fighting to get the words past the lump in her throat, she said, “It's all right. I understand.”

“We've got to do something for
him
now,” said Denise. “He needs help.”

“Quarmix,” said the creature softly. “Get me back to Quarmix. In my cave I'll be safe. In my cave I have things that can heal me.”

“How?” cried Tansy. “How can we get you back?”

His eyes flickered open. “The armband,” he gasped. “Give me the armband.”

Startled, Tansy realized she was still wearing the golden armband Theoni had put on while they stood in the center of the pentacle. She slipped it off her arm and extended it to Arthur. Feebly he wrapped the tip of a tentacle around it, then placed it on the floor in front of him.

“This wasn't enough for all of them,” he said. “But it will get me home.” Painfully he dragged the sword along the floor until it lay across the armband.

Tansy watched him nervously. The flames were getting worse. They didn't have much time.

“Quarmix,” gasped Arthur. “Let me return to my home in Quarmix!”

The sword began to glow with an eerie golden light. A ringing sound filled the air around them, louder even than the roar of the flames.

The armband began to grow.

Tansy jumped back. An opening had appeared beneath the expanding armband. Arthur's tentacles dangled over the edge of it.

“Quarmix!” gasped Tansy, looking into the hole.

The five of them stood and watched the ring expand.

“It's the cave,” said Derek suddenly. “The cave we saw in the cellar.”

“It's home,” said Arthur, dragging his body toward the opening. “Help me,” he gasped.

The teens gathered around him, pushing and pulling the burned, bulging body toward the gateway to Quarmix. Arthur shuddered with pain, but said nothing until he was nearly over the edge, when he whispered, “Thank you. I will never forget you. I will—”

The hole closed over him with a snap.

He had taken the sword with him. The rod and the stave had been burned. Only the armband, which had shrunk back to its original size, was left.

Tansy reached down and picked it up.

“Come on,” cried Derek. “We've got to get out of here!”

He headed for the stairwell. The others followed close behind.

The top steps were bathed in flame.

“No choice!” Derek yelled. “Follow me!”

He plunged into the flames and was lost from sight.

Jenny hesitated and Tansy could see she was not going to make it on her own. “Come on!” she said. Grabbing Jenny around the waist, she rushed through and began to run down the steps.

It wasn't as bad as she had feared. The top of the stairway was the worst part. Flames were leaping out all around them. But below it was a clear path. She could hear Matt and Denise coming down behind her.

It took only seconds to reach the bottom of the steps.

The foyer was filled with flames.

Denise arrived beside Tansy almost instantly. Looking back, she caught her breath. “Matt!” she cried. “Jump!”

Matt threw himself into the air. Even as he did, the stairwell collapsed beneath him. Flames rushed up. A cloud of sparks scattered outward.

Matt hit the floor beside Denise and collapsed in a heap.

Tansy and Denise reached down to help him up.

“No, get down here,” gasped Matt. “The air is better by the floor.”

Tansy dropped to her knees and crawled along the floor behind Matt, wincing as the floorboards seared her hands and knees. A beam fell from the archway that led to the dining room. Hot air rushed past her. She felt as if her lungs would catch fire next.

Derek crouched by the front door, waiting.

“Hurry!” he rasped. “Hurry!”

As he saw Tansy emerge from the smoke and flames, he stood and grabbed the doorknob. For a terrible instant Tansy wondered if the door would open, or if it was still sealed.

It opened.

Cool air rushed in.

Morning had never looked so good.

It was still raining, but the thunder and lightning had stopped. Tansy put her hands on her cheeks. The cool water felt more delicious than anything she could remember.

She stood with the others, about fifty feet from the house. She could hear a siren wailing in the town below. The firefighters would be here soon, but they would be too late. The place was like a gigantic bonfire, flames stretching up from all the windows, bursting from the turrets.

Tansy felt tears begin to stream down her cheeks, mingling with the raindrops. “Travis,” she whispered. “Oh, Travis—”

Denise put an arm around her. Tansy buried her face in her friend's shoulder, sobbing hopelessly.

“There it goes,” said Derek softly.

Tansy looked up.

Slowly, almost delicately, like a house of cards falling in slow motion, the Gulbrandsen place began to crumble. Then the roof caved in, and flames rolled up against the sky.

After that everything moved faster. It was only a matter of seconds before the five watchers recoiled as the house plunged in on itself, and waves of heat rolled out around them.

To their right the sun was just peeking over the horizon.

“‘This house dies at dawn,'” whispered Jenny. She stopped herself, leaving the rest of the curse unspoken. But Tansy's mind, treacherous and willful, filled in the missing words: “‘Along with everyone still in it.'”

The bushes at their right began to rustle. “There you are!” shouted a familiar voice. “I've been looking all over for you!”

“Travis?” cried Tansy, spinning around. “
Travis?
”

He came pushing through the bushes, bruised and smeared with soot, but very much alive. With a little cry she ran to him, threw her arms around him. He held her tight.

Standing behind him was another figure.

“Charity!”

The serving girl smiled. “Yes, miss.”

“But I can see you!”

“So that's what she looks like,” said Derek appreciatively. “Not bad!”

Jenny elbowed his ribs.

“She saved me,” said Travis. “When the fire got out of control, the flames made a kind of wall and I was cut off from the rest of you. Suddenly Charity was standing there, motioning to me to come with her.” He paused. “I was a little spooked when I saw her. But I figured anything was better than burning to death.”

“I knew another way out of the room!” explained Charity. “There are—were—a lot of old passages and secret doors in the house. Mr. Gulbrandsen liked things like that. We couldn't get back to you, because of the fire. So we had to go out another way. Did I do all right, miss?”

“Charity, you did great!” said Tansy, so weak with relief she could hardly stand.

The ghost smiled, her face radiant. “I knew I had to let Travis see me in order to save him. So I just concentrated as hard as I could. All of a sudden I heard a little pop, and there I was!” Her face grew very serious. “But I have to go now.”

Tansy wiped rain and tears from her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Charity smiled again, a softer smile, sweet and gentle. “I'm fixed, miss.”

Tansy could hear deep joy in her voice, a note of satisfaction and success. “It wasn't my missing bones that kept me here after all. It was the wicked things I did. But now I've done good. I've helped you folks out and I feel better. So I can go.”

“Oh, Charity!” cried Tansy. “I'm so glad for you!” She paused, then said, “But I'll miss you.”

“I'll think of you often, miss,” said Charity softly.

She began to fade. They could see the world starting through her.

“Good-bye,” said Matt, his voice husky. “Good luck.” He blushed. It seemed like a foolish thing to say. But what else could you say to a ghost that was leaving?

“Good-bye!” called Charity. “Good-bye!”

And then she was gone.

Travis turned to Tansy. He took her hand.

In the distance sirens were screaming, drawing closer.

“Let's go,” he said. “We'll deal with all that later.”

Two by two, they headed east, into the sunrise.

A Personal History by Bruce Coville

I arrived in the world on May 16, 1950. Though I was born in the city of Syracuse, New York, I grew up as a country boy. This was because my family lived about twenty miles outside the city, and even three miles outside the little village of Phoenix, where I went to school from kindergarten through twelfth grade.

Our house was around the corner from my grandparents' dairy farm, where I spent a great deal of time playing when I was young, then helping with chores when I was older. Yep, I was a tractor-ridin', hay-bale-haulin', garden-weedin' kid.

I was also a reader.

It started with my parents, who read to me (which is the best way to make a reader)—a gift for which I am eternally grateful. In particular it was my father reading me
Tom Swift in the City of Gold
that turned me on to “big” books. I was particularly a fan of the Doctor Dolittle books, and I can remember getting up ahead of everyone else in the family so that I could huddle in a chair and read
The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle
.

I also read lots of things that people consider junk: Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, and zillions of comic books. In regard to the comics, I had a great deal going for me. My uncle ran a country store just up the road, and one of the things he sold was coverless comic books. (The covers had been stripped off and sent back to the publishers for credit. After that, the coverless books were sent to little country stores, where they were sold for a nickel apiece.) I was allowed to borrow them in stacks of thirty, read them, buy the ones I wanted to keep, and put the rest back in the bins for someone else to buy. It was heaven for a ten-year-old!

My only real regret from those years is the time I spent watching television, when I could have been reading instead. After all, the mind is a terrible thing to waste!