Spirits and Spells (6 page)

Charity's voice was low and husky, and the terrified thrill in it made Tansy shiver.

“Well, I saw the knife go up and come down. I felt a horrible flash of pain, a slicing feeling. And that was the last I knew for a time. The next thing I remember, she was gone, and Mr. Morley was there. Poor Mr. Morley. He was crying and calling my name. That made me feel good—to know he really cared about me. Then he knelt beside my bed and began to whisper, ‘Charity. Oh, Charity. My poor, poor Charity.'

“That made me feel even better, until I understood why he was so upset.”

Charity paused dramatically.

“Why
was
he so upset?” cried Tansy.

“Because I was dead! I mean, there I was, looking at poor Mr. Morley, and I suddenly realized that I was sort of floating above it all, hanging somewhere near the ceiling. Then I saw my head, lying there on the bed. Oh, it was terrible, miss. All that blood. Blood everywhere, and my body nowhere to be seen. Just my head. And Mr. Morley stroking my hair and moaning, ‘Oh, my poor Charity. My poor, poor Charity.'

“Well, it turned out my dearie knew more magic than I thought. He and Mr. Gulbrandsen fixed my head up so it wouldn't go bad, if you know what I mean. Then they put it in that box. Mr. Morley used to come here and look at it. But we never found my body. They looked for it everywhere. I was looking, too, though they didn't know that. But I was desperate to find it, because I couldn't leave here until I was buried proper.”

“Is that why you're still haunting this place?” asked Tansy.

“Of course it is! Oh, miss, I do wish I knew where that terrible woman put the rest of me. I'm so tired of being bound to this earthly plane. I feel trapped, if you know what I mean. And I've been so lonely.”

Moved by Charity's plight, Tansy said, “I have some friends here with me tonight. Would you like to meet them?”

“I surely would!”

“We're gathering down in the library. Come with me.”

“Lead the way, miss. I'll be right behind you!”

As Tansy left the attic, she was deep in thought about the best way to introduce Charity to the others. But when she reached the foot of the stairs, her thoughts were disrupted by a loud commotion. She recognized Matt's voice, crving out in anger. Then she heard another voice, deep and rough, and the sound of clanging swords.

Without thinking, she raced forward, only to stop in shock at the next flight of stairs. Matt was shouting and swinging a glowing stick. At first she thought he had lost his mind and was battling thin air.

Then she heard a cry of rage from his invisible enemy.

Mouth working hungrily, the grotesque guardian of the sword had almost reached Derek, who was scrambling along the floor, away from the slippery puddles. But as he struggled to stand, he felt a thick tentacle wrap itself about his ankle.

“Jenny! Help me!”

With a shriek Jenny flung her flashlight at the creature. It struck the monster with a dull thud, fell to the floor, and rolled away. Unbroken, it continued to cast a dim light over the scene.

Derek was trying to pry the tentacle off his leg, but his fingers couldn't get a grip on its slimy surface. At the same time, and unseen by him, another tentacle was slithering forward. The tip of it touched his arm, then began to wind about his wrist.

The creature made a sound of triumph. It began pulling Derek toward its mouth, making an urgent gasping noise, a wheezing cough of hunger.

Derek clawed at the rough cellar floor, trying so hard to drag himself away that he was shredding his fingertips. Suddenly his hand closed on the broomstick he had been using to knock down cobwebs. With a cry of triumph he raised it over his head, then smashed it against the tentacle that still gripped his leg.

With a horrible shriek the creature released Derek's leg. The injured tentacle slithered back across the floor, and the creature popped it into its mouth like a burned fingertip. The bulbous body began to shake and swell. Breath rasping in and out, the monster made a strange burbling noise.

Derek wrenched off the tentacle that still had a grip on his arm, then scrambled backward, his eyes wide. After a moment he shot a wondering glance at Jenny and said, “I think it's trying to
talk!
”

The creature looked straight at Derek. “Thakin obbovver cangoo in retruble!” it said emphatically.

Jenny staggered back against the wall. “You're right! It
is
trying to talk to us.”

Removing the bruised tentacle from its mouth, the creature bellowed, “Of course I'm talking. What I said was, ‘That kind of behavior can get you in real trouble!'”

Derek was so startled he dropped the broomstick, which clattered to the floor.

The creature raised another, undamaged, tentacle and shook it at him admonishingly. “Look, I don't want to hurt you. But it's my job to guard this sword.” Its voice was deep and oddly solemn, with a slight bubbling quality, as if it were coming through a layer of oil.

Derek pushed himself to his feet and went to stand protectively in front of Jenny. She put a hand on his shoulder. “What's going on?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“I don't have the slightest idea what's going on!” shouted the creature, as if Jenny had addressed it and not Derek. “I was sleeping peacefully in my cave when suddenly I woke up and saw him heading for my sword. So I grabbed him. That's what I'm
supposed
to do, you know.”

Jenny tightened her grip on Derek's shoulder. “What …” She stopped, swallowed, and tried again. “What world are you from?”

“Quarmix. Why?”

Derek blinked in surprise. Quarmix was the world of the game—the supposedly imaginary world where they were playing this all out!

Jenny tightened her grip on Derek's shoulder. “I'm scared,” she whispered.

Derek put his hand over hers. “Me, too. But we have to stay calm. I don't know—”

The creature slapped a tentacle down beside them with a suddenness that made them both jump. “Where am I?”

Derek was astounded to hear a note of fear in its voice.

“You're on Earth,” stammered Jenny. Then she added in a whisper, “I hope.”

The creature made a bubbling noise deep in its throat. “The coven! Is the coven trying to come back?”

“What coven?” asked Derek. “What are you talking about?

“Nothing!” said the creature desperately. “Nothing!”

Derek glanced back at Jenny. She was white-faced and shaking with fear. He stepped back to comfort her, but before he could put his arm around her, the creature lashed out with another tentacle. Moving like a whip, it struck the floor just to their right with a
thwack
, splattering slime in all directions. Now a thick tentacle lay undulating on either side of them.

“Don't move,” said the creature.

Derek considered trying to grab the broomstick and smash one of the tentacles. He decided against it, fearing he might only succeed in angering the creature. He looked at Jenny. Her lower lip was trembling. He hoped she wasn't going to cry.

A period of tense silence followed while the creature looked them over. Derek had the uneasy feeling they were being judged. Suddenly he found the silence unbearable. To break it, he asked, “Who does the sword belong to?”

“Mormekull,” the creature replied. “Sort of.”

“The enemy!” gasped Jenny.

Derek wondered how the creature would react to
that
bit of information.

But all it said was, “Well, he's no friend of mine, either. I just work for him.” It paused, then asked, “What do
you
want with the sword? And why is Mormekull your enemy?”

“We were playing a game,” said Derek. He stopped. It sounded so silly. How could he explain to this …
thing
what was going on? Especially since he really had no idea himself.

“We need it to break a spell,” he said at last.

“What kind of spell?”

“One of banishment. We want to return home.”

“Uh-oh,” said the creature. “I don't like the sound of this.”

Jenny shivered. Derek was talking to the tentacled beast as if the game was real. Her heart began to pound harder as she realized there was no “as if” about it. The game
was
real. Why else would they be standing here talking to a monster?

Suddenly the creature turned in her direction, a movement accomplished by twisting the lower part of its squat body, which seemed very flexible. “Are you part of the coven?” it asked.

Its voice was so serious Jenny knew she had to answer correctly. She glanced at Derek, hoping for a clue, but he shook his head helplessly. “I don't know,” she said finally.

The creature snorted. “That's stupid!”

“No, it's not,” said Derek. “Listen. Let me tell you what happened.”

Quickly he outlined what had brought them to the cellar. The creature listened, its lopsided eyes blinking every now and then, its tentacles rippling uneasily.

“Take me to the others,” it said when he was done.

Derek looked at Jenny. “The others?”

“That's what I said!” snapped the creature. Its voice had a hint of ancient anger and lurking sorrow. “Don't act so surprised. I have some old scores to settle, and you may be able to help.”

When neither one of them answered, it wrapped a tentacle around Jenny's waist and lifted her from the floor.

“Take me to the others,” it repeated.

Jenny, pale and trembling, looked at Derek with pleading eyes.

“All right,” he said firmly. “Let go of her. Then follow me.”

9

THE POWERS THAT BE

Denise stood at the top of the stairs, unable to see any way to help Matt, who seemed to have lost his mind. He was backing down the stairway, a look of desperation on his face as he swung some sort of stick ferociously back and forth in front of him.

Niana!

She spun around, but could not see who had spoken.

“Denise!” cried Matt desperately. He was at the foot of the stairs now, still backing up. Suddenly he shouted in pain. Denise gasped as she saw a broad rip appear in the right shoulder of his shirt. Beneath the rip his flesh was torn, too. Blood began pouring down his arm.

Finally understanding that he really was being attacked by something she could not see, Denise hurtled down the stairway, heedless of whatever it was that stood between herself and Matt.

“Be careful!” cried Matt. “They'll get you, too!”

Denise stopped, uncertain what to do.

Tansy leaned over the stair railing. “The stave!” she cried. “Matt, they want the stave!”

“Can you see what's going on?” yelled Denise.

“No, but I can
hear
them. There are two of them, and they want Matt to give them the stave.”

“They can't have it!” shouted Matt.

“Tansy, we've got to do something!” cried Denise frantically.

Tansy started down the stairs.

“Be careful, miss!” cried Charity. “Those two with the swords are a rough-looking pair.”

“Can
you
see them?” asked Tansy in surprise.

“Of course. Can't you?”

“Who are you talking to?” called Denise, her voice shrill with fear.

Tansy did not answer. Something was bothering her, a thought at the back of her mind struggling to take form. What had triggered it? Charity had been talking …

That was it! Denise couldn't hear Charity, but she, Tansy, could! She recalled Travis's first statement of her powers: “You are an enchantress who can communicate with spirits.”

Could it be that her game powers were real?

If so, then maybe Matt's powers would be, too.

“Matt!” she cried. “Your spells.
Use your spells!
”

Matt looked up. A light of understanding crossed his face. He swung the stave ferociously, then cast it behind him. With grim concentration he raised his hands.

“Charity,” said Tansy. “What are the men doing? Tell me quickly!”

“They're backing off, as if they're expecting something to happen. Why did the boy throw away his stick?”

“Watch,” said Tansy.

Suddenly Matt's hands erupted in flame, fire shooting from his fingertips, from his palms—a blaze of blue and yellow heat that engulfed his arms to the elbows.

Denise began to scream.

Tansy grabbed her shoulder. “It's all right,” she said. “It's all right. That's his power!”

“Oh, that's done it, miss!” cried Charity triumphantly. “That's done it for sure.”

A line of blue fire stretched across the hallway. Matt stood on one side of it, sweat running down his brow. The tip of his tongue protruded from his lips and his face was lined with fierce concentration.

“Look out!” cried Charity. “They're running from him, but they're coming this way. Stand aside!”

Tansy grabbed Denise and pulled her against the banister. The girls shuddered as a cold wind whipped past them.

“Well,” said Charity, sounding surprised but satisfied. “They just disappeared. I guess that's that!”

“Matt!” cried Denise. Pulling away from Tansy, she raced down the steps. The line of fire was flickering out now, and Matt had a dazed expression on his face. He lifted his hands, looked at them as if he had never seen them before, then crumpled and fell to the floor.

Denise was at his side instantly. Kneeling, she shook his shoulder. “Matt!
Matt!
”

“The fire, miss,” said Charity nervously.

Tansy turned her attention from her friends and saw that though the magical flames had gone out, several spots in the hallway had caught fire for real and were beginning to blaze away.

She looked at Matt. He could cast spells of fire and illusion. She had a spell for fire, too. A spell for fire, and a spell for freezing.

She walked slowly down the steps. How had Matt done it?