The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) (50 page)

By three o’clock, I declared my booth officially closed. I folded up the card table and wiped down the chalkboard. The good news was that I had made over three hundred dollars in tips. The bad news was that I doubted I could ever touch another sweaty palm again.

“You have a knack for that,” Eve said, joining me on the sidewalk while she kept an eye on the shop. There were only two customers inside––older ladies we had known since childhood––and I was pretty sure Eve could overtake them if they tried to get away with any of her merchandise.

The day had passed without any sign of Leah.

Though I dreaded my confrontation with her, I was also afraid she wouldn’t show up. Without the anti-spell, Mother might sleep forever. My anxiety grew with each passing hour.
 

“You okay?” Eve asked, following my eyes down the road. “You seem more distant than usual.”

I felt guilty for not letting my sisters in on what had transpired between myself and Leah yesterday, but it would only worry Merry and anger Eve. Leah was my problem and I was going to handle it.

“I’m just getting hungry,” I said, sniffing at the air.

The scent of pumpkin pies, cinnamon apples, caramel corn and Shane’s ghoul gravy made my stomach growl. A little girl walked by carrying a big fluff of cotton candy and I was about to ask her where she found that when Shane showed up. He was carrying two Styrofoam food containers. He handed one to me and the other to Eve.

“Compliments of the chef,” he said.

I bit into a biscuit that was so hard I was afraid I’d chip a tooth. “It’s like eating a rock.”
 

“Sorry, that’s all we had left.”

Shane scratched his head and regarded the town. The streets were quieter now, with just a few people milling about. But that would change at dusk when everyone returned for the parade, the dance, and the lighting ceremony.
 

“I ran out of candy about an hour ago,” he added, turning back to us. “...And I’ve been giving the trick-or-treaters complimentary menus and napkins. I'm surprised my place hasn’t been toilet-papered yet.”

“That’s nothing,” Eve said. “I’ve been giving the little ones makeovers. Twenty bags of fun-sized candy bars doesn’t go as far as it used to.”

“All in all, a pretty good day,” I said, not admitting that I had been pilfering from her candy bowl whenever she used the restroom. “The candles get here yet?”

“No.” Eve threw up her arms and slapped them down at her side in frustration. “I did some scrounging and we have around thirty white tapers, but I’m guessing we need at least three hundred.”

A female shop owner I recognized waddled towards us.

“I just wanted to thank you young people so much for getting this started,” she called out. “I’ve made more money today than I have in the last year. Albert is very happy.” She held up a fistful of cash, looked longingly at the biscuits, and crossed the street to spend some of her newly acquired money at Dip Stix.

“Good work, ladies,” Shane said.

“I can’t wait to be done with the parade,” I tugged at the black dress that was shrink-wrapping itself around my body as the day grew more humid. “I need to get out of this thing.”

“I can’t wait, either.” Shane’s eyes twinkled like the lights in his window. “I want to see you in that sweater dress again.”

I felt my face redden to the color of my hair.

“Oh?” Eve raised an eyebrow.

I was sure she was going to say something catty. I hadn’t shown her the dress for fear she would make fun of me.

She surprised me by saying, “I’m sure you are going to look beautiful.”

And I think she meant it.

The sun set behind the trees as we assembled for the parade.

Our float,
The Witches of Dark Root,
was traditionally the last one in line, signaling the beginning of the evening’s activities. But Paul and Eve thought we should go first this year, so they could be done in time to change costumes for their Sonny and Cher extravaganza. We would be followed by the Mayor’s car and the Home School marching band.

I wasn’t happy with the lineup, but it did mean we could be done first, allowing me to keep an eye out for Leah.

Our float was an old wagon decorated with chrysanthemums and drawn by two black horses.

I stood in the center, pretending to stir a black cauldron as my eyes looked out from beneath the brim of my pointy hat, scanning faces in the crowd. Shane sat up front with the driver, seemingly at home and still in his cowboy gear. Merry, Eve, June Bug and Paul sat on bales of hay along the edge of the wagon bed, waving to the crowd and throwing out plastic spider rings. Some older kids ran behind them, begging for lollipops while Eve lectured them on the dangers of eating too much sugar.

We were nearly at the end of Main Street when I spotted Leah, lurking near one of the shops. She was dressed in a jacket, jeans and sneakers, easy to spot in a crowd of costumed spectators. I gave a quick glance to my companions, hiked up my long dress and side-stepped to the side of the wagon.

 
“Maggie!” I heard Shane call out as I leapt from the cart, wincing as my slippered feet crashed down on the hard pavement. My hat flew from my head and was immediately snatched up by a young mother in the front row.

I gave them a perfunctory curtsey then took off after Leah.

I fought my way through the crowd, almost tripping over a kid carrying a jack-o’-lantern and pushing through a couple dressed as John Lennon and Yoko Ono.

“Leah, wait!” I called, but she kept running.

She neared the edge of the bandstand. For a second, I thought I’d lost her; the crowd near the bandstand was as thick as Shane’s gravy. Leah was small and quick, able to squirm through narrow openings through the wall of people.

“I have the circle!” I lied as she weaved in and out of the folding chairs by the stage.

Why had she wanted to meet me if she was just going to run?

Someone grabbed my wrist. Startled, I turned to see Shane.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, pulling me to a stop.

I pointed to Leah, “That woman has the spell we need to wake up Mother.”

Shane looked at me with a blank face.

“Please,” I said. “Just trust me.”

He nodded and bolted after Leah, pulling me along behind him. We raced along together, dashing after Leah as she wove skillfully through the horde. She had the advantage of not needing to be careful, knocking into old women and pushing over children in her desire to escape. Even so, Shane and I were gaining ground. Leah looked back, her face ashen, then quickly changed direction, running for the bouncy house.

“We have her,” I said, knowing there was only one entrance. But when we looked inside, I was surprised to find only two young children playing.

I shook my head. How could she have just disappeared?

“She probably didn’t have the anti-spell anyway,” I muttered, still scanning faces in the crowd. “...Or she wouldn’t have run.”

Shane closed his eyes, squeezing them shut. Within the span of a breath he said, “I know where she is.”

He grabbed my hand and we headed east, down a long dirt road that led into the woods. I checked the ground for Leah’s footprints, but the earth was dry and kept her secret.

“I don’t think she’s here,” I panted. My lungs burned. My heart raced. The trees closed in, shutting out what was left of the light of the waning moon.

“Now it’s your turn to trust me,” Shane said, turning onto a branching path, almost invisible through the undergrowth.

I gripped his arm and followed closer.

Soon we reached a clearing, a large round area illuminated by the sliver of moon. I squinted, trying to pull up a memory. This was the clearing I had run to when I was a kid, the clearing where Merry and Shane had found me crying. And here was Leah, standing in the center of it.

We stared at each other, our mouths agape with disbelief.

“So, you found a tracker,” she said, eyeing Shane with a look that rested somewhere between admiration and loathing.

“I prefer the term, ‘remote viewer,’” Shane answered.

I looked at Shane, confused. Tracker? Remote viewer? I had no idea what any of that meant.

“You didn’t bring the circle.” Leah turned her attention to me, sneering, “...I would feel it on you.”

“Leah,” I said. “There is no circle. If you could really
feel
it, you would know that. It’s just a metaphor.”

“You’re lying!” Her hands turned into claws and her mouth twisted with rage. Her hair seemed to stand on end.

“It’s over, Leah,” I spat. I was tired, done with games. “Give me the anti-spell.”

“It’s
not
over! It will never be over!”

Leah charged at me, nearly flying across the space between us. She was on me in a moment, knocking me back and landing on top of me. Her hands clamped around my wrists. We wrestled on the ground and I fought to break free.

Shane rushed to intervene. Leah let go of one of my hands, aiming a bony finger at him. A translucent blue orb flew from her fingertip, crashing into his chest. Shane went immediately stiff, his entire body frozen in place. Leah kept her hand up, raised and steady, maintaining the spell as she watched me out of the corner of her eye.

With her attention divided, I grabbed her raised hand and pulled her across my body, slamming her into the ground. Now I was on top, straddling her. Her glasses toppled from her face and she clawed at the dirt, searching for them.

 
“You bitch!” I said, taking her tiny wrists in one of my hands.
 

Her legs kicked but couldn’t quite reach me. I took a handful of her hair with my free hand and slammed her head down in the dirt.

“Maggie, stop!” Shane was now free, disorientated and reaching for us.

Overcome with rage and not thinking, I thrust out my hand. A silver spark shot from my palm, hitting Shane and launching him back across the glen.

I returned my attention to Leah. “Give me the goddamned anti-spell!” I lifted my arm and slapped her hard across the face.

Who did she think she was? How dare she mess with me and my family and think there wouldn’t be consequences? I was taking that anti-spell from her, one way or another.

“Tell me!” I hit her again, striking her nose. Blood gushed across her face. Leah squirmed beneath me, kicking and clawing, trying to bite at my arm that still held her wrists.

I hated her, hated her for all she had taken from me. Michael. My father. And now she was trying to take my mother.

“You can’t have her!” I shouted. I pinned her hands over her head, holding them against the ground.

“Please stop,” she begged, twisting and turning.

“Tell me where it is!”

“I don’t have it!” she said. The blood from her nose had reached one of her ears, trickling in.
 

“You’re a liar!” I moved my free hand to her neck, squeezing, feeling the veins pump against my palm. She flounced, gasping for breath.

I might burn in hell for what I was about to do, but she would be there with me.

My free hand slid down my side, into my pocket, and around the cold blades of the scissors. I didn’t need magic. I pulled them out, letting her see the glint of moonlight on the steel. My soul felt as cold as the weapon in my hand.