The Unwilling Witch (8 page)

I nearly pulled my hands away as I felt a sudden blast of heat. Then everything became quiet.

I was pushing against the dresser so hard that I'd tipped it back toward the wall. My arms and shoulders ached from the effort. Slowly, I stepped away, then reached forward and slid the drawer open an inch.

Silence.

I opened it another inch and looked inside, ready to slam it shut at the first sign of movement.

Two small piles of green dust sat inside, on top of my jewelry box. I took the box out of the drawer and put it on my bed. Darling bent over to sniff at the remains of the creatures. She sneezed, and the dust vanished in a cloud.

“Elestra,” I whispered. She'd given me the money. What would those creatures have done to me if I hadn't stopped them?

I stared at the spots where the dust had been. I don't think I would have moved for a long time, but the shattering blast of a train whistle ripped through the room.

 

Eighteen

POWER AND FURY

I crossed the room and stared at the source of the sound. The mirror on the dresser was fogged. I wiped it with my hand, but the fog remained. It wasn't on the mirror—it was
in
the mirror. For an instant, deep within the fog, I saw a large, heavy shape. A train. It crashed into a smaller object. The scene died too quickly for me to tell what was happening. But the sight left me trembling.

“Too much,” I said to Darling as I backed away from the dresser and collapsed on my bed. In seconds, I was asleep.

I felt better in the morning. A ripple of nervousness still gripped my insides, but I felt stronger, too. Sebastian was at the kitchen counter when I went down.

“You still angry?” I asked.

He looked over his shoulder and grinned. “How could I stay mad at my own sister?”

“You sure?”

He nodded.

“Can I ask you something?” I figured he was such a big fan of monsters and horror movies that he might know some useful stuff.

“Anything, dear sister,” he said.

“Thanks, I need to ask you—”

“But first, how about a nice crisp piece of bacon?” As he said that, he whirled and shoved a plate full of fried pig pieces under my nose.

“Quit it.” I pushed his arm away.

Shock.

Sebastian dropped to the floor, turning into a puddle of slimy stuff that looked like spilled oatmeal. True to his nickname, he landed with a
splat
. The plate hung in the air for an instant. I grabbed it before it could fall. Then I stared down at my slimy brother.

“Giving meat another chance?” Mom asked as she walked into the kitchen.

“Uh, no,” I said, putting down the plate.

“Oh, dear,” Mom said, glancing at the floor. Then, with that amazing acrobatic ability that moms have, she reached out and snatched a handful of paper towels, stooped and wiped up Sebastian, and tossed the towels into the garbage can.

“Oh, good grief…”

Mom gave me a puzzled look as she left the kitchen. An instant later, Rory came running in from the living room, carrying his half-empty bowl.

“I'm full,” he said, dumping the rest of the milk and soggy cereal into the garbage can.

He ran out of the kitchen.

I hurried over to the garbage can and stared at the gooey mess. When he'd changed, I'd said, “Quit it.” I needed to reverse it. But I wasn't sure how to say “quit” backward. I tried, “Tiqua tih.”

Nothing happened.

“Tikwa tih,” I said, starting to feel a tingle of worry.

Nothing.

“Tikuua tih…”

No change. I wondered whether I should scoop Sebastian up and put him in a safe place. Did he need to be refrigerated? This was crazy. I took a deep breath and tried to think calmly. Okay, I asked myself, why wasn't it working? I'd reversed the words. But I'd only reversed each word by itself—maybe I also needed to reverse the order of the words. “Okay, this will work,” I said. I took a deep breath. “Tih tikwa.”

“Hey!”

Sebastian was standing in the garbage can. Cereal and milk dripped down his face.

He opened his mouth. He pointed at me, his finger trembling with anger. “You—!”

This didn't look like a good time for a deep discussion of the lore and myths of witchcraft. I grabbed the roll of paper towels and handed it to him. “Here, clean yourself up before Mom sees what a mess you made.”

I snatched a banana for breakfast, got my backpack, and headed to school. When I reached the front lawn of the building, I walked past Lance Anderson and his gang. They were laughing about something. I had a good idea what it was.

“Bet she waited there for hours,” Lance said.

I glared at them, wishing that Lance could feel as bad as May. To him, it was nothing but a joke. To her, it was probably a painful memory that might never heal completely.

The bell rang. Everyone headed toward the building. I glared at Lance. The wind whipped around me, raising a cloud of dust.

No,
I thought, realizing I'd unleashed something.

 

Nineteen

GLUB

A piece of notebook paper, blown by the wind, flew up at Lance's face. He raised a hand to catch it.

I breathed a sigh of relief. A piece of paper couldn't do any damage.

As Lance reached out, he tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and went tumbling. A crowd formed around him. Then someone went for the nurse. I hovered at the edge of the mob. Lance was holding his wrist and moaning. The nurse looked at it and said, “It might be broken.”

I rushed to my homeroom.

“I think I broke Lance's arm,” I told Jan after I'd plunked down in the seat next to her.

Jan shrugged. “Somebody had to.”

A moment later, May came in. I could almost feel the fury rising from her. As she walked to her desk in the last row, she flicked her hand out and hit Billy Winkdale on the back of the head. It wasn't a hard hit—it was more like a high five. Then she slammed her books on her desk and glared around the room as if daring anyone to get in her way.

“She's in a great mood,” Jan said.

“It's not all her fault,” I said. Then I told Jan what Lance had done.

“Nasty trick,” Jan said.

“But she's pretty nasty herself.”

“Maybe she was nicer when she was younger,” Jan said.

I wondered whether people had played a lot of mean tricks on May. But why were those people nasty themselves? Where did it begin? Just thinking about it made my head hurt.

“I think the rain forest is too big a place to start with,” Jan said, breaking into my thoughts.

“What?”

“You have to start smaller,” Jan said. “Maybe you could help the dolphins first. Or how about the speckled lake owl? It's still endangered, right?”

“I can't fool around with this, Jan,” I told her. “I don't want to hurt anyone else.”

“So maybe you should start out real slow, like with those hot-fudge sundaes.”

Morning announcements began, so Jan and I had to stop talking. Then we went outside for the bus to the high school, where we took our swim classes.

When we got there, we put on our swimsuits and lined up along one side of the pool.

“Everybody in the water!” Ms. Rambowski yelled. She blew her whistle and we all jumped in.

I guess I was somewhere in the middle of my leap when it sank in on me that I might not sink. I hit the water and started to bob on the surface like my suit was filled with air. Around me, the rest of the class had started to tread water.

“Jan,” I whispered, reaching out to tap her shoulder. It was hard to do anything the way I was floating.

“Oh, boy,” she gasped when she saw me. Or maybe she said, “Oh, buoy.” I really wasn't in any position to tell.

We both glanced around. Nobody else had noticed me yet, but I knew someone would look my way any second. Ms. Rambowski was standing right behind me.

Jan took two strong strokes toward the center of the pool. Then she screamed and vanished under the water. An instant later, she popped back up, yelled, “Help!” and sank back down again. Ms. Rambowski leaped over me, diving into the water.

I almost went to save Jan before I realized what she was doing. What a great friend she was. I climbed out of the water. A moment later, Ms. Rambowski dragged Jan to the side of the pool.

Gasping and sputtering, Jan choked out the word, “Cramp,” and then started coughing.

“I'll stay with her,” I said, rushing over to her side.

“Would you?” Ms. Rambowski asked. “That would be so kind.”

“I'd be happy to,” I said. I helped Jan leave the pool.

“How was I?” she asked when we got to the locker room.

“Amazing,” I said. “I was ready to rescue you myself.”

“Thanks. What exactly was going on back there?”

“I'm a witch,” I told her. “It's as simple as that.”

“You can be a crab, maybe,” Jan said. “And a bit of a grump once in a while. But I wouldn't call you a witch. Except for that time when your mom wouldn't let you go to the Twisting Apes concert. Then you were a real witch.”

“I'm serious. That's what all this power is about. I can't cross running water. And I float.”

Jan nodded. “If that's the case, I can see where you might want to avoid swimming pools. But you know, it would have been fun if we'd stayed. We could have stuck an umbrella in your belly button and used you to hold cans of soda.”

She laughed. Then I started to laugh, and both of us had to struggle to keep from being heard out in the pool.

“What am I going to do?” I asked Jan.

“The backstroke?”

We barely managed to look properly serious again by the time the class returned to the locker room.

When we got back to school, it was time for history. As I walked into the room, I saw that we had a substitute. She was standing at the desk with her head down, studying the lesson plan. Then she looked up and I saw her face. My arms dropped to my sides, and I heard my books hit the floor with a crash.

 

Twenty

TEACHER'S PET

Elestra Malacorsa smiled at me. “Hello,” she said to the class. “I'm Miss Malacorsa. I'll be your substitute for the next few days. It seems that poor Mr. Whittledown was taken suddenly ill. From what I understand, he ate a piece of bad fruit. But I'm sure you'll all work just as hard for me.”

During the class, she acted like we'd never met. When the bell rang, I had a hard time gathering my books. They kept slipping from my hands. When I finally got them, I looked up and saw I was the only one in the room with Elestra.

“You are in great danger,” she said.

“Yeah, from you.” I took a step toward the door, wondering if it would do any good to run.

“I'm not a threat. I'm here to help you. As your power struggles to take form, anything might happen.”

Maybe she was trying to help me. But there was something I needed to know before I could decide whether to trust her. “Why did you buy the book?”

“To protect you. The woman from the shop is a power-seeker. I suspect she has some of her own, but she wants more. It's lucky for you I came into her shop and saw what she was doing. She's the sly sort. Lying on the floor, looking so helpless, I'm sure she was planning something nasty. I was afraid that there was danger in the book. Traps can take many forms. I'm sorry I had to deceive you, but it was the best way.”

“But the money attacked me.” I shuddered as I thought about the creatures on my dresser.

She frowned. “And you thought that was my doing?”

“Yes. I mean, I did think that. I guess I made it happen myself.”
Or did I?
I remembered that Miss Chutney had held the money and then made those motions with her hands.

“You see? You're in danger until you can control your power. Until then, I'll be here to help protect you.”

The bell rang for the next class. “I have to go.”

I rushed into science and took my seat. If Elestra was really here to help me, that would be a great relief. I wondered how long it would take to learn to control my power. Maybe it didn't matter. Soon, if I wanted to, I could pass my power to someone else. But who? I looked around. Katrina, at the far corner of the room, caught my glance and looked back for an instant, then quickly turned her head away. If ever there was a person who could use some power, it was Katrina.

Across the room, I saw May carving away at the top of her desk with a pen. If ever there was someone who already had too much power, it was May Mellon. But in some ways, she didn't have any power at all. She could push the rest of us around, but people didn't like being pushed around. I didn't care to think what someone like her would do with my power.

“Well, Angelina? I'm waiting for your answer.”

I looked up at Mrs. Pushbind. I'd been so deep in thought, I didn't have a clue what she'd asked me.
Give me a break,
I thought.
Just ask someone else.
I blew a puff of air up at my bangs in frustration.

Mrs. Pushbind blinked, then said, “Well, never mind, I'll just ask someone else.” She walked across the room and repeated the question.

I felt my whole body tingle. If I had just done what I thought I'd done, I had awesome power. I watched the teacher and tried to make her do something else.
Bark like a dog,
I thought. For good measure, I puffed up at my bangs again. She cleared her throat. It sounded a little like a bark, but I wasn't sure I'd caused it. I looked over at May.
Scratch your head,
I thought as I puffed air.

May scratched her head.

But that wasn't a real test. May was always scratching.

“Clear your desks,” Mrs. Pushbind said. “It's time for a quiz.” She started writing the questions on the board.