The Zodiac Collector (19 page)

I grab her wrist.

She bites her lip and tugs at her hair.

“Mom. Want some eggs?” I walk ahead, announcing our presence with as light a tone as possible. I pull a bowl out of the cupboard while Mary paws through the utensil drawer for a whisk.

“Hmmm?” Mom twists around to face us. A broad smile is plastered across her face. Her hair is kinky and her clothes are more wrinkled than Great-Aunt Edna's face.

I come within inches of her to pluck the carton of eggs from the fridge and immediately regret it. She reeks of stale smoke and body odor. “Um, why don't you hop in the shower? Mary and I'll make eggs and home fries.”

She lights a cigarette and takes a long drag before answering. “What? You sayin' I stink? Nice way to treat your mother. I should make you drink dish soap.”

Mary ducks her head into the pantry cabinet and returns with a large potato, keeping her back to Mom while she cuts it into even strips, sniffing every now and then.

What gives Mom the right to treat us this way? Turning into a Grendel because she doesn't want to take medicine? Totally unfair.

I gave up crying about Mom's mood swings a long time ago. Anger rears its scalded, pimple-covered face and urges me to smash her over the head with the frying pan. Then it whispers a plan. Drag her unconscious body to the backyard, douse her in dish soap, and set the sprinklers on her. Lost in the fantasy, I burn my finger on the side of the pan. That's what I get for imagining something so gruesome. I suck on the burned skin, but it only intensifies the scratchy pain.

“Have you been drinking the ale again?” Mom shoves my shoulder and laughs. It sounds like steel grating on concrete.

“No, I don't like the taste,” I retort, scrambling the eggs as they cook.

She whacks the back of my head with her palm. “Hey, don't be smart.”

“I wasn't.” I rub my scalp.

She must not have heard me because she continues to rummage through the fridge. “Ah! Found it.” She clicks open a can of beer and takes a long drink. The bitter scent wafts toward my nose. Gross. Why anyone likes the taste of the stuff is beyond me. “I'm celebrating. I finished the Queen's coronation gown. Just have some finishing touches on the ladies-in-waiting costumes.”

I plate the eggs and dump the sliced potato into the pan. It protests in a chorus of sizzles. Mary puts the dish into the microwave to stay warm. Maybe if I turn up the heat, the home fries will cook faster. I draft a chant calling on Castor and Pollux to whisk Mom away like they had Zeena. I bite my tongue.

The clock ticks off the seconds. Frying potatoes crackle and spit in the pan. Mom likes them extra-crispy—of course. I hope William and Evan don't think we've ditched them. I hope they don't go poking around on their own looking for clues of what Zeena's up to.

“I'll take the eggs, Mary.” Mom lights another cigarette.

Mary brings the plate to her and hands her the ketchup. It's like we're her little servants. My brain burns. I take a deep breath, careful not to blow it out on the stove.

“What's the matter, Mare? Forgot how to talk?” Mom snorts, then shoves a huge forkful of food into her mouth.

Screw it. The potatoes aren't done, but I don't care. I slide them onto a plate and slam the pan back on the stove burner. I spin the dial to
off
and storm out of the room.

Mary chases after me. “What's the matter? You want to get her going?”

“I don't care. This is ridiculous.” I march out the front door, down the steps, and into the damp spring night.

“What if she follows us?”

“I wouldn't worry about it. She's stuffing her face.” Wouldn't be long before she's downed a couple six-packs. Once she clicks open one can, she doesn't stop for several hours.

We cross the street and hop over the chain gating the faire grounds. The bright, nearly-full moon casts the night in slate blue and charcoal. Where do poets get the silvery glow nonsense? There's nothing silvery or glowy about it.

It's darker in the forest. We need to use both our flashlights to avoid large stones and exposed roots. I still manage to trip every other step.

“Where are William and Evan? They were supposed to be at the gate,” Mary whispers.

“I don't know. They promised not to go into the woods.”

“What if she got to them?”

My stomach flops. “She'll come after us first.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“We made her angry.”

“So?” Mary groans. “We shouldn't have agreed to meet here. We should've gone somewhere else. Like Grandmother's.”

“Gotta get your digs in, eh?”

She huffs. “Give it a rest, Anne.”

A tall figure hops out in front of us. I leap back and Mary yelps.

“Shhh, guys, it's just me.” William flips on a flashlight, nearly blinding me. I can hear Evan hee-hawing in the bushes. Jerk.

“What the heck are you doing? Are you trying to kill us?” I growl, slapping the light away.

Evan stalks out of the underbrush and laughs harder. Double jerk. “Aww, don't be upset. We're just having fun.”

“This isn't a joke.” Mary shoves him. “I nearly peed my pants.”

“You said you'd meet us by the gate.” I punch William's chest, but my blow isn't hard enough to do any damage.

He raises his arm defensively. The light bounces around the trees and makes me dizzy. “Yeah, well, you guys are late. So we investigated ourselves.”

“Find anything?”

“I think so. The old woman is in her shoppe. She's talking, but I can't make out what she's saying. And there are all these weird flashes of light in different colors. Come on, I'll show you.” He strides away, confident with each step. He and Evan sound like a herd of stampeding rhinos.

“Will you guys try to be quiet?” I grumble.

Mary and I hurry after them. The forest isn't exactly thick and overgrown—we're in a park, for God's sake—but the moonlight fades the deeper we go. It gets colder too and soon our breath puffs out in plumes. I suppress a shiver. It shouldn't be
this
cold.

“What's going on?” Mary shivers.

“Could be Z's magick.” I grab hold of William's sweatshirt and give it a tug. “Hey, wait a minute.”

He turns and flashes the beam in my eyes.

“Oh. Sorry.” He lowers his arm.

“You feel that?”

His eyes dart back and forth.

“It's cold.”

“It's night.”

“Duh, but it's way colder than it should be. We must be getting close. You should put out the flashlight.”

Mary shook her head. “We won't be able to see anything.”

“Yeah, but Z…she might be able to see us, especially with you waving the flashlight around everywhere.”

A gust of wind silences our argument. The scent of decaying old woman lingers. I swat the flashlight out of William's hand and flick off the switch. Mary protests, but I clamp a hand over her mouth. Thankfully, William and Evan keep their mouths shut.

“Castor and Pollux, make our way visible,” I pray. I hold my breath, waiting.

The leaves rustle in the breeze and a peal of thunder reverberates through the sky. I peer into the night and see a faint flickering glow after my eyes adjust. I take a tentative step. Mary clutches my sleeve, but follows. So do the boys.

A beam of moonlight highlights the path, guiding us to a small one-story shack hidden in a clutch of hemlock. Zeena's shoppe.

“This is it,” I whisper.

We creep up to a window and peek inside. It's cracked open a couple of inches. Mary and I peer inside while Evan and William crowd behind us. Lit candles dot the room and the unnatural glow of a computer screen radiates from Zeena's favorite corner. What the heck would she need a laptop for? I squint to make sense of the white dots scattered across the black screen. Lines connect some of the dots. They form several Zodiac signs. Geez. Hadn't pegged her for a modern technology user.

Zeena's in the opposite corner, crouching over someone. Her scratchy voice carries on the air, but the individual words don't. The rhythmic cadence sounds like chanting. This can't be good. She shifts to the bookcase and selects a bottle.

Whoever's in the chair garbles out a muffled plea. Oh man, he's gagged! He wiggles and nearly tips the chair over.

Zeena steadies him. “Easy now. Don't want to get hurt.”

He shakes his head and grumbles some more.

Zeena laughs and chants faster.

A red glow surrounds the kid. It illuminates his face. It's Shequan! The air itself shimmers and warps over him like an oasis on a hot summer day. His eyes roll up into his head. His body jerks around and his muffled scream comes out choppy. Then, with a burst of red sparks, he disappears.

Everything goes black.

I hold my breath while Mary dips her head. William's breath tickles my neck and his palm warms my back.

A speck of light appears where Shequan was. It wobbles and doubles in size. Then it triples, quadruples, and starts spinning. Zeena picks up her chanting. Wind howls and blows my hair in my face. The red vortex swirls, flaring the edges into the shape of a spiral galaxy.

Zeena raises her arms like a priest does when he prays over his flock. Only she's not praying. She shouts and claps her hands above her head.

The light condenses with bang louder than a gunshot. Half a beat later, it bursts again, this time in the shape of ram's horns. Aries!

The symbol fades and shrinks to the size of a half-dollar. It flashes in the candlelight and drops to the floor with a clatter.

Zeena cackles and picks up a silver trinket from the floor. That's how she collects the signs. She transforms
people
.

And all she needs to complete her collection are Libra and Gemini.

“I think it's time to leave,” I whisper, retreating. A twig snaps under my heel.

Zeena's head whips toward us. Her hound-dog nose twitches, scenting us.

“Run.”

We spin away and sprint toward the path like Olympic athletes. Leaves crunch beneath our feet, releasing their musty fragrance. The cold air burns my lungs. My airways constrict, making each breath harder and harder to pull. Soon, I'm lagging behind Mary, Evan, and William. I hear them smashing through the woods, yelping and panting.

“Where's Anne?” Mary calls.

“Keep going,” I wheeze. I can barely hear myself.

“She was right behind us,” William answers.

“Anne!” Evan shouts.

I lean against a tree and snake my inhaler out of my pocket. The pain seizing my chest eases some after I take a hit.

Zeena's cackle explodes to my left.

I suppress a yell and hobble in the other direction, going as fast as I can despite my handicap. Mary rushes to me and pulls me along.

“Faster, Anne, she's coming.”

“I can't…you go ahead…without me.” I do a limping jog, somewhat faster than a walk, but much less coordinated.

“I'm not leaving you.”

“Me neither.” William appears at my other side.

Together, they tug me along toward the field. The moonlit night shines bright beyond the trees. If only we can make it.

I pause to take another puff of albuterol. Mary frets at my sleeve. William keeps his hand on my shoulder. His body heat warms me from the unnatural cold.

“Let's go,” I cough.

“And what makes you think I'll let you get away this time?” Zeena pops out of the bushes in front of us.

“Get Anne out of here.” Mary shoves me into William's welcoming arms.

He latches his hands around his wrists, buckling me in his grasp, and drags me away.

“No, we can't leave her!” I struggle in William's grasp.

Zeena walks closer, an amused smile mangling her face.

“Wait. Mary!” I yell.

Mary steps toward Zeena, her fisted hands at her sides. “You can't use this kind of magick on people. It's not right.”

Zeena throws her head back and laughs. A strong gust shakes the trees. Her cloak flutters and strands of white hair break free from her hood.

“Stop it! Stop laughing!” Mary's shoulders are shaking. “Castor and Pollux, stop this woman from hurting people. Make it as if she never came! Erase the memory of her, please.”

Evan bursts through a mass of briar bushes and clings to her side. “Mary, let's go!”

“Don't chant. The wording has to be right,” I wheeze.

Zeena sweeps her arm and chants something in a foreign language. Wild wind beats against us, whipping our clothes and hair, knocking us from side to side. I would have fallen if William hadn't been holding me.

“Quit fighting. We need to get out of here.” He lifts me off my feet and whirls me around toward the path.

“Let me go. She doesn't know what she's doing. Mary, run!”

“Forget about me!” Mary yells over the storm and shoves Evan toward William and me.

“Silly girl, but you have given me a handy idea.” Zeena raises her hands to the sky. “Gemini twins, by all means, clear the minds and hearts of those who've seen me since my arrival here. And erase the memory of those I've taken.”

“Please, don't,” I beg, clasping onto William's and Evan's arms. “Castor and Pollux, let us remember.”

A lightning bolt is followed by a clap of thunder. The tree next to us snaps in half and falls to the ground with a groan. Evan dashes to the side and William throws us in the opposite direction. We land in a heap with him on top of me. His weight crushes me into the ground.

Another flash of lightning strobes over us as Mary screams.

Chapter Sixteen

E
verything is quiet. I wonder if I've gone deaf, except I can hear myself panting.

William rolls off me, but stays close. “You okay?”

I don't care about myself. “Mary!” My voice is hoarse, like I took sandpaper to my vocal cords.