The Witch Is Back (24 page)

“Wanna try the floor of the stage?” I asked when we'd broken away from the others. “It's pretty bland pattern-wise and there's a roof, which means we won't be out here baking in the sun.”

“Sure,” Jinx said, staring down at the group. “Apparently I could use a little color. When I got out of the shower this morning, Jasmine called me Casper.”

“Well, isn't
she
a morning person,” I said sarcastically. “I think you're actually starting to get some pink back in your cheeks, Jinxy.” It was true. Before, she'd been an oatmeally-gray color, which had made her look sort of sickly. Now, there was a hint of life back in her skin.

“I think so, too,” Jinx responded. She still wouldn't look at me as we walked into the shade and toward the charcoal stage. Considering what she'd said the other day in my room, I was surprised she'd agreed to team up with me at all. “I'm feeling a little better. Like I'm getting control over my life again. I mean, I still have moments of anxiety, and I'm struggling in the sleep department, but my appetite's coming back. And I don't feel so . . . hopeless.”

“That's incredible, Jinx!” I said, practically tackling her into a hug. It was the best news I'd gotten all week and I hadn't realized just how much I'd needed to hear it. But Jinx wasn't totally healed yet, and as I hopped up onto the stage and then popped back to my feet again, she chose to take the stairs.

We both sat down in the middle of the stage. No one else had had the foresight to seek refuge from the sun, so we had the whole place to ourselves. When I began to lie down on the floor so we could start casting, Jinx placed her hand on mine.

“Thanks, Hadley,” she said finally.

“For what?” I asked, playing dumb. I'd never actually come out and told her what I'd put in the perfume and neither of us had acknowledged that there was magic at work here. It wasn't that I didn't want her to know, I just didn't feel like I needed the attention for doing the right thing.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at me curiously, before taking her hand back and placing it onto her lap demurely. Now that Jinx was getting back to her old self, I imagined that a manicure would be in her near future. “Nothing,” she said with a smile. “Just, thanks. You know . . . for always being there and everything.”

I grinned from ear to ear. “Of course. We're family. And family takes care of family, even when they can't take care of themselves,” I said. Then I gestured to her and winked. “Besides, this . . . this is all you. It's your will and spirit that's getting you through this. You're much stronger than you think.”

She nodded.

Lying back down on the stage, I tried to ignore the fact that I was getting my outfit dirty. At least it was a repeat outfit—a purple skirt and a black top with reflective circles all over it.

“Let's get our Chamele-
on
,” I said and then started to cast.

Hours had passed. I was still outside, but had no idea what I was doing there. The sun had long since gone down, and despite the warmth of the day, it was so cold that I couldn't help but shiver. When I looked down I could see that I was only wearing my cute cotton black-and-white romper that read
SMART GIRLS FINISH
FIRST
. It was my favorite pair of pajamas, but also my lightest, and wouldn't keep me warm in the breezy night air.

Why was I out of bed? How had I gotten here?

I caught a flurry of movement off to my right, and took in a quick breath as I saw a figure move out from behind a tree and then take one slow step after another into the woods beyond the amphitheater. I couldn't see who the person was, because, one, they were too far away, and two, whoever it was had on a cloak of some sort. It was dark and completely covered the figure from head to toe. There wasn't even a hint as to whether the person was male or female.

I went to shout at the late-night walker, but then stopped myself at the last minute and looked back at the cabin looming behind me. There wasn't a single light on in any of the bedrooms and I didn't want to wake the whole place up. The consequences of being in the woods at night had been made clear to all of us, and the secret plans of the mystery person had piqued my interest. I wanted to find out what the person was doing running around campus at night.

With one last glance over my shoulder at safety, I ran after the person. My bare feet grew dirty with every step and I cringed as dust and rocks hit the backs of my legs.

If only I'd remembered to put on shoes before going for a walk in the middle of the night . . .

The campus was eerily silent. Even the sound of my feet pitter-pattering across the forest floor came out like a distant whisper. I kept the dark figure within eyesight, but left enough distance between us that I wouldn't be caught. The farther we disappeared into the woods, the more concerned I grew over what might be at the end of this game of follow the leader.

Not only that, but this scenario was beginning to look an awful lot like a plot out of a horror movie. Cute girl runs through the woods alone with only her thin pajamas on. Then she trips on a root that just happens to be sticking out of the ground. . . .

At that precise moment, my steps faltered, but I was able to stay on my feet.

Seriously?

Still, I followed the hooded figure deeper and deeper into the forest. We'd long since passed the area dedicated to our casting sessions and were fully in the part that the counselors had warned us not to venture to. Breaking the rules didn't bother me. Being forced to leave my boyfriend with Brooklyn for the summer, because I broke camp rules, well, that was enough to make me think twice about what I was doing.

I realized a little too late that the person ahead of me had begun to slow, and I had to stop abruptly to keep from slamming right into them. The hood of the figure moved slowly from side to side as it tried to decide which way to go, before stepping into a clearing.

Creeping forward, I tried my best not to make any noise. Other sounds filled the night now. Whispers that I hadn't heard before, which seemed to have only started when we were far enough away from the cabin that we couldn't call out for help, echoed through the trees. At first I couldn't figure out exactly where they were coming from or how many voices there even were. They filled my head from every direction, leaving me turning in circles as I attempted to find their source. Then, as if all the other sounds had been sucked out of the forest at once, I could hear the voices coming distinctly from the direction of the clearing in front of me.

So, I followed them.

Slipping behind a large tree, I waited as long as I could before making a move. One . . . two . . . three . . . four. It felt like an eternity had gone by when I finally peeked out from behind the tree. When I did, I fought the urge to hide again. Because there stood three cloaked figures, gathered around a ball of light.

They were chanting something over and over again. Words to a spell that I didn't recognize. After a few repetitions, I was finally able to understand what they were saying.

“Discubus susperion violane spurniface,” they chanted in unison. “Discubus susperion violane spurniface. Discubus susperion violane spurniface.”

What does that even mean?

Two of the three had their backs turned to me, but the third was directly in my sight. Only, the hood was so large that it covered most of the person's face and I was still too far away to see any details. I could tell that the person was holding something in their hand, though. It shimmered in the limited lighting, but I couldn't figure out what it was. If I knew that, then maybe I'd be able to figure out what they were casting.

I had to get closer.

I dashed from tree to tree in a zigzagging pattern until I was less than ten feet away. While they were still in the middle of their chanting, I dared a look around the tree again.

Red stone shone like fresh blood against caramel-colored skin. The metal twined its way around the ruby, like it was hugging its child protectively. I sucked in my breath involuntarily, looking down at the empty space on my finger where a ring used to sit.

Why did these people have Bridget's ring?
My
ring?

My ears began to echo with the sounds of my own heart beating. If the chanting stopped, I was sure the strangers would hear it, too. I searched my mind to figure out what to do next.

First things first: I had to get my ring back.

Popping my head back out, I studied all three of the figures and realized frustratingly that there was nothing on them to give me any clue as to who they were. And without knowing that, it wouldn't be a smart idea for me to rush them. Not until I had one of my most prized possessions back on my finger where it belonged at least.

I was in the middle of trying to formulate another plan when I got the break I'd been waiting for. Slowly, the hood of one of the figures facing me began to move. The person began to lift their head and I was moments away from seeing their face. I held my breath as more and more skin was revealed to me, first showing a naked neck and then an angular chin, a set of full lips and then a perfectly shaped nose.

My head was screaming for the person to look up all the way. And finally she did.

My eyes flew open and suddenly I was back in my room. The sun had just begun to come up over the horizon, and the growing light was forcing shadows out of every corner of our shared space. This did nothing to calm my nerves, though.

Abby
.

The dream had been so vivid.

Remembering the way she'd looked while peering out from under the hood of her dark cloak, I quickly turned over to her side of the room. I expected to find her asleep in bed, tucked in and dreaming peacefully.

Instead, the bed was empty.

Was it possible it
wasn't
a dream after all? That I really
had
been out wandering the woods and just happened upon a group of witches chanting while holding the ring that had once been Bridget's?

My ring!

I pulled my hand out from underneath the warmth of the covers and sighed with relief to see that it was still on my finger, beautiful as ever. Even in the semidarkness it shined.

This wasn't enough to convince me that what I'd dreamed hadn't really happened. I'd been part of enough crazy stuff to know that just about anything was possible, especially when it came to other witches. And Abby wasn't in her bed now, which was suspect in itself.

I threw back my covers and pulled my legs toward my body until my feet were exposed. Reaching down hesitantly, I grabbed ahold of one of my heels and brought it right up to my face.

It was clean.

Well, relatively clean, anyway. No dirt decorated my legs like it would have if the dream were real, and the pads of my feet were a rosy pinky color. My toenails were as flawless as the night I'd painted them a glittery red. Everything was as it should be. Not a thing out of place. Nothing missing.

Except for Abby.

Just as I thought it, she crept back into the room. I watched her from my bed as she quietly snuck in and took extra care not to let the lock click too loudly when she closed the door behind her. When we were once again locked in, Abby turned around and proceeded toward her section of the room.

“Where were you?” I whispered to her in the dark.

She jumped as she heard my voice and whipped around to face me.

“Geez, you scared the crap out of me!” she said out loud.

I placed my finger to my lips and motioned over to Colette who promptly turned over onto her stomach but remained asleep. Abby looked at our roommate and put her hand over her mouth guiltily. I let my legs drop down over the side of the bed and felt it begin to lower. As soon as I was close enough to the ground, I hopped off and walked over to where Abby was still standing.

“Where are you coming from?” I asked. I didn't want her to think I was interrogating her, especially since there was no proof that she'd done anything other than show up in one of my dreams. But still, coming in at 6:30 a.m. was kind of a sketch-ball move. Before we'd gone to camp, I'd promised Asher I'd look out for her, and this was definitely worth checking into.

I expected her to avoid the question or come up with some elaborate story, but she just held up her hand. “Brushing my teeth,” she answered. She popped the toothbrush back into her mouth and wrapped one arm across her stomach, letting the other rest lazily on top of it.

“Oh, er, I mean, what are you doing up so early?” I said, trying to save face and switch up my tactics at the same time.

“Couldn't sleep,” she said, and then walked over to her dresser and laid the toothbrush on its surface. “Why are you awake?” She said it easily, but it felt like she was turning the tables on me now.