The Witch Is Back (23 page)

When I was done, the mulch in front of me wasn't anything to look at, but the smell was delicious and once added to the oil it became more than just a fragrance. It was the answer to Jinx's problems.

Or it would be soon, I hoped.

I carefully pushed the crushed-up mush through the opening of the bottle and watched as it hit the oil below and then floated in chunks near the surface. When I'd placed enough in there to fill the entire container, I closed up the top and looked at it objectively. It didn't look as pretty or professional as one of my mom's but it would do the trick.

“Now, for the icing on the cake,” I said to myself, placing the bottle on the right page of my book, while reading the one on the left.

Shortly after taking my family's spell book home from our cabin, I'd begun to add other spells to it. Ones that my mom had used on a regular basis—including her perfuming spell—as well as others I'd created and ones Dad favored. I'd even gone as far as to rack my brain for spells that Grammy casted when I visited her as a child.

So now, along with Bridget Bishop's original spells and those of her daughter Christian, there were whole generations of our family's magic written between the covers of the book. It was really cool to see that much history—and power—in one place.

Reading the spell once more to myself, I picked up the bottle and took a few deep, cleansing breaths to prepare myself for the casting. My heartbeat began to slow and my brain quieted.

Clear mind, clear cast.

Recalling my mom's favorite saying, I finally felt ready to say the words to her perfuming spell for the first time since she'd died. I cupped the bottle like a precious jewel. My voice came out strong and purposeful.

Gifts from stone, herb, root, and flower,

Infuse the wearer with thy power.

Take her desires and make them true,

From you to her, let her start anew.

As I finished the spell, the contents began to swirl around, and the light tingling sensation in my hands told me that it was working. Smiling, I snapped the family book shut and peered through the glass at my first unassisted perfuming. It looked like it should and it certainly smelled good. A bit strong, but better that than weak.

I thought about rubbing some of the oil onto myself to see if it worked but was reminded of the fact that I'd been concentrating on Jinx when I'd said the spell, making her the focus of its energies. It wouldn't have the same effect on anyone else.

I'd just have to wait to see if it worked once Jinx was wearing it.

As I finished up, Colette walked through the door, followed by Abby and Jinx. Colette looked lost in her own thoughts, but bounced a bit with every step, and the other two spoke softly to each other as they crossed the room and sat down on the circular couch. Saying the words to the spell that would switch my family's book back to
The Catcher in the Rye
, I eyeballed the flowery mess on my comforter and decided to clean up later. Right now I was more interested in hearing what Abby and Jinx were talking about.

I had to settle for catching bits and pieces of their conversation, since their voices were so low. Of course, doing so was more like playing a messed-up game of Mad Libs. One where
I
was required to fill in the bulk of the story.

“. . . impossible to sleep,” Abby said.

“. . . talked to Fallon—” This part was from Jinx.

Abby shook her head and then waited patiently as Jinx continued whatever she was saying.

“Nothing's working,” Abby said, just loudly enough for me to actually hear her.

“Try doing a spell, maybe?” Jinx said, biting her lower lip as she thought about it. “On second thought—that hasn't really worked for me lately, either. . . .” Her sentence trailed off.

Which was my cue.

I threw my legs over the side of my bed and waited patiently as the mattress lowered and my heels touched the floor again. Once I was vertical, I walked over to the girls and handed Jinx the bottle.

“What's this?” she asked, warily.

“It's a present,” I said softly. “Look, I know I've sort of been crazy lately and things haven't been easy for you . . . so, I made you this perfume with the flowers I got out in the woods today. I thought it might cheer you up.”

I could tell she was genuinely surprised by the gesture and looked over at Abby quickly before taking the bottle from me. Abby's face remained stony, but she didn't tell her not to accept it.

“Er, thanks Hadley,” Jinx said, perplexed. “That was really nice of you.”

“It's no problem, really,” I said, trying to make it sound like that was true. “I just hope you like it.”

Removing the stopper, Jinx touched her finger gingerly to the oil and then hesitated slightly before spreading it onto her neck and wrist. It didn't take long for the smells to fill the room. And even before she'd closed the bottle back up, I could have sworn she seemed different.

“All right girls! Everyone gather around!” Miss Peggy called out from the stage in the amphitheater. On either side of her were Mrs. B and Mrs. Jeanette. Seeing them standing there together, it was clear how different they were. Miss Peggy was wearing her usual uniform of shorts and blinged-out vest, while Mrs. B chose a shiny black form-fitting dress. Mrs. Jeanette had on a pair of jeans and a light yellow cardigan. Despite their differences, the mismatched trio looked at home up there together.

“I trust you all enjoyed the time off from your typical magicking sessions, as the counselors and I attempted to put things back in their rightful places,” Miss Peggy said.

It had taken two more days for the elders to unbolt the stadium seats from the roof of the boys' amphitheater. According to the rumor mill, whoever had been behind the little “prank” had done a serious whammy on the chairs. Whereas, it should've only taken one person, two people tops, to return everything to its original spot, it ended up requiring all of the elders to work together to do so. All due to a particularly peculiar enchantment, which had been cast on the bolts, making it nearly impossible for anyone to penetrate.

No one knew how the adults had finally pulled it off, but the announcement had come late last night that sessions would resume as normal this morning. Something that elicited a groan from the bulk of my peers. Most of the campers had treated these days off like it was the perfect time for typical summer fare: working on their tan, sneaking off with the opposite (or same) sex, and otherwise relaxing.

I, however, had used it to start doing some reconnaissance on Brooklyn. One thing had been made clear during my little Cleri intervention: If I wanted the others to believe me, I needed hard proof that she and Eve were plotting against me. Unfortunately, the only things I'd managed to find out about the two was that they never stopped talking about themselves and they both flirted with
everyone
.

“Since we're a few days behind schedule on our lessons, we're going to try to amp things up a bit so we can get back on track,” Mrs. B said, placing a perfectly manicured hand on her side. “But we've seen you girls in action and I'd say you're all up for the challenge, right?”

“First thing we'll be learning today is how to cast as a chameleon,” Mrs. Jeanette said, getting right down to business. “The chameleon is an interesting species of lizard with many distinguishing abilities. The most widely known is its ability to change color. Can anyone name something else that sets the chameleon apart from other lizards?”

Colette raised her hand immediately, and although she didn't cry out, “Oooh, ooh, me! I know it!” it was clear she wanted to answer. So they let her.

“Chameleons are capable of arboreal locomotion. Which basically means that they can climb trees
really
well,” she said, with an unusual amount of excitement.

“That's right, er . . . Colette,” Mrs. Jeanette said, looking down at her clipboard. “Very good—”

“That's not all,” Colette continued, not even waiting for Mrs. Jeanette to finish her sentence. “They also have crazy-awesome eyes; the most distinctive of any reptiles, actually. The eyelids are round in shape, with the opening only big enough to let their pupils show. They have the ability to check out two objects at once, with an eye looking one way and the other in a completely different direction. Their eye rotation is so great that they can see three hundred sixty degrees around themselves. So, in this case, they really
do
have eyes in the back of their heads!”

Colette started to giggle like she'd just told her best joke. I couldn't help but laugh, too. I'd never known anyone as dorkily endearing as her. You just couldn't dislike the girl.

“It looks like someone's giving you a run for your money, Jeanette,” Mrs. B chimed in, implying that there might be another budding scientist among them.

But the buttoned-up scientist didn't see the humor in her words. Instead, she attempted to regain control over her lesson by continuing.

“As Colette pointed out, chameleons have many assets at their disposal and the reason that their species has survived for as long as they have is because they know how to use them,” she said. “They don't let them go to waste and when they find themselves in danger, they utilize each of their gifts to ensure their safety.”

“This is something that we, as witches, must become adept at doing,” Miss Peggy said. “So, today you're going to learn the secret weapons of the chameleon so that you can defend yourself against anyone or anything that might harm you. I hope that none of you will need to use what we're teaching you, but it's better to be trained than left without a safety net.”

Miss Peggy had no idea how right she was. There was so much that the Cleri hadn't known about magic—or even their own abilities—when the Parrishables had waged war on us. We'd had to put ourselves into spell boot camp, and even then we hadn't been prepared. If we hadn't gotten lucky with a few spells from my super-great-grandmother Bishop, none of us would be alive now.

And the more spells I knew, the more power I had over my enemies, be it evil covens or evil ex-girlfriends. Maybe these classes wouldn't be a bust after all.

Finishing with their speech, the counselors broke us up into three groups and instructed us to spread out across the grounds. The day was cooler than usual, but it was still well into the seventies and it was only midmorning. None of us were psyched to be leaving the shade of the theater, but we followed the counselors out into the sun, anyway.

“The first thing we'll be teaching you is a camouflaging incantation,” Mrs. Jeanette said. “This is a higher-level spell and usually takes practice to perfect. So, don't be discouraged if you don't get it right away. Mrs. B will now demonstrate.”

We all turned our attention to the red-haired woman who'd taken her place beside a nearby tree. As we watched, Mrs. B leaned against it, until her back was flat against the bark. She placed her legs as close to the trunk as possible and pressed her hands into the wood. Wiggling her eyes at us goofily, she said the words to the spell.

“Conselus disguisen camocon!”

Suddenly, she was gone. The space where Mrs. B had just been standing was empty. One minute she'd been there and the next she'd just . . . disappeared.

“Go on, take a look! You can all get closer,” Miss Peggy said, gesturing for us to move forward. “It's important for you to see what this spell can really do.”

Nobody moved at first, so I took a step toward where Mrs. B had just been lounging. As I went, I tried to search for the telltale signs that I was still looking at a person, but I still only saw the tree. I continued walking forward until I was so close that I could've reached out and touched the bark. And I was tempted to do it, too, only in the back of my mind I knew that Mrs. B was supposedly still there. And she probably wouldn't take kindly to being felt up. At least not by me.

“That's amazing,” I said, feeling others coming up behind me and join in the staring. “I can't see her
at all
. Are we sure she's really there?”

As soon as I said this, a pair of eyes appeared . . . and blinked at me.

“Jesus!” I screamed and jumped backward, running smack into Jasmine.

People started to snicker at my reaction, but all I cared about at the moment was learning how to do the spell, too.

Mrs. B finally stepped away from the cover of the tree, and at first, the design of the bark stayed on her skin like a temporary tattoo. But as she got farther away from it, the colors on her skin and dress faded until she was back to her original self again. With the flourish of a Broadway performer, Mrs. B put her hands up in the air and said, “Ta-dah!”

“Yes, very good,” Mrs. Jeanette said, although she didn't sound all that impressed. Clearing her throat, she stepped right in front of Mrs. B. “Okay, the trick to this spell is contact with the object or thing that you're trying to mimic. As you noticed, Mrs. B was leaning against the tree trunk, as well as touching it with her hands. This is imperative to creating a perfect duplication of the environment you're trying to blend in with. It will help you to draw from the essence of the object, making it easier to change.”

Miss Peggy clapped her hands then, causing most of us to jump in surprise. “Why don't you say we give it a go, huh? Team up with a buddy and find an area to try to camouflage yourself into. It can be anything, but remember: the simpler the design, the easier the spell. And this one's a doozy!”

Abby and Jasmine paired off almost immediately, while Sascha and Colette decided to work together. That left me with Jinx. This was actually fine, since I hadn't been able to talk to her one-on-one since I'd given her the perfume. I was curious to find out how it was working, or if it was even working at all.