T*Witches: The Witch Hunters (9 page)

EPILOGUE

THE GUARDIAN

The moment Ileana and Miranda had left his office, Thantos had turned on Sersee, grabbing the insolent girl by the throat.

Stunned, she had struggled in his grasp. The hulking warlock’s iron grip made it impossible for her to speak. She sent him a desperate thought message:
I stole the book for you. I know what is in it. And still I wish to serve you.

Contempt and curiosity shone in the fierce black eyes that stared at her. “You wish to serve me?” Thantos showed not a scrap of surprise nor a moment’s hesitation. “Call off your dogs,” he rasped at her, swinging her
around so that her face was at the broken window and she could see the witch hunters marching beneath them.

Release me,
she silently urged.

Her brazenness impressed and offended but did not surprise him.

“You wish to serve me?” Thantos’s face was as raw and rageful as his voice. “Show me why I need one such as you, a fugitive fledgling who hides underground. A discarded child who scrabbles like a diseased rat through the caves of Coventry, sacred caves where once fierce witches and renegade spirits ruled. Why would I waste my time guiding the leader of a ragtag band of unruly runaways and uninitiated urchins? Show me why, Sersee,” he challenged her, “and I will become your guardian. Fail me, imp, and you are dead.”

He dropped her. And finally she surprised him.

He recognized the scent of the herbs she rubbed between her hands. He knew which crystals she’d chosen from the leather pouch under her cape. He watched as she performed a ritual he vaguely remembered, calling up a spell — both primitive and powerful — that he’d learned decades ago. It was a spell uninitiated rabble like Sersee should not have known.

Ignoring him, she tossed down the crystals, blew away the herbs, then leaned forward, her hands on the windowsill. Oblivious to the sharp shreds of glass against
her palms, she stared down at the mob she’d sent to badger him.

The embarrassing threats bellowed from below faded.

One by one, the robed men looked up at Sersee.

Whispering incantations, she caught their eyes, smiling as they tried frantically to look away.

The black-bearded warlock watched as the fools removed their hoods in a stupor, mechanically, obediently. Some stepped back; some sat down dazed on the lawn they’d trashed; others rolled forward clutching their stomachs.

When all were sick and silenced, Sersee turned to face him. A cold breeze stirred the girl’s tangled black hair. Her deep violet eyes flashed with satisfaction. The hint of a proud smile crossed her lips.

Slowly, slyly, she knelt before the brutal warlock. “Your enemies are my enemies, Lord Thantos,” she said.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

H.B. Gilmour
is the author of numerous best-selling books for adults and young readers, including the
Clueless
movie novelization and series;
Pretty in Pink,
a University of Iowa Best Book for Young Readers; and
Godzilla,
a Nickelodeon Kids Choice nominee. She also cowrote the award-winning screenplay
Tag.

H.B. lives in upstate New York with her husband, John Johann, and their yellow lab, Harry, one of the family’s five dogs, five cats, two snakes (a boa constrictor and a python), and five extremely bright, animal-loving children.

Randi Reisfeld
has written many best-sellers, such as the
Clueless
series (which she wrote with H.B.), the
Moesha
series, and biographies of Prince William, New Kids on the Block, and Hanson. Her Scholastic paperback
Got Issues Much?
was named an ALA Best Book for Reluctant Readers in 1999.

Randi has always been fascinated with the randomness of life.… About how any of our lives can simply “turn on a dime” and instantly (snap!) be forever changed. About the power each one of us has deep inside, if only we knew how to access it. About how any of us would react if, out of the blue, we came face-to-face with our exact double.

From those random fascinations, T*Witches was born.

Oh, and BTW: She has no twin (that she knows of) but an extremely cool family and a cadre of bffs to whom she is totally devoted.