T*Witches 3: Seeing Is Deceiving (5 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

BLINDED BY THE LIGHT

“Ms. Barnes” — Webb fixed a cold eye on her — “perhaps you can enlighten us. To which world leader is this historic quote attributed, and at what occasion did he — or she — say it: ‘Let us never negotiate out of fear, but let us never fear to negotiate’?”

Nervously, Cam flipped through her textbook. Was that in last night’s reading assignment? She thought she’d been prepared. But the total tarantula who stood at Ms. Jameson’s desk was on a mission to prove otherwise.

Webb’s way, the class quickly found out, was to unnerve them by lobbing rapid-fire questions at them. Ignoring volunteers, she chose victims randomly as if her goal was not education, but humiliation.

Still, Brianna deftly held her own, and Beth rarely missed a question. Of course
they
didn’t get the really hard ones. And when they did, they got hints. Webb had phrased this question purposely so Cam wouldn’t know if it was a U.S. President, a prime minister, or another world leader, male or female. Could Webb be more obvious? Marking down every wrong or “incomplete” answer, spider-woman was deliberately trying to take Cam’s grades down a notch. Or several.

Messing with Cam’s grades was a total hot button. She was beyond boiling. As Alex had pointed out, this slimeball should have been worried about Cam exposing her. So why was she baiting Cam instead? She obviously needed a little reminder. “Before I answer that, I have a question for you, Ms. Webb. It’s sort of off topic, but it’s really important.”

“Go ahead.” Ms. Webb tapped talon-shaped fingernails on the desk.

“I’d like to know your feeling about the means justifying the ends. Like, say, raising money for a righteous cause — would you stoop to doing something illegal, like shoplifting?”

Although Cam couldn’t see Beth, who sat behind her, she knew her friend’s eyes had just popped open wide. The whole class was staring at her.

The black-clad teacher paused, then shot Cam a
withering stare. “Now what makes you ask that, Ms. Barnes? Trying to distract me from making you answer a question you clearly don’t know?” The class giggled. They thought Webb had one-upped her.

Cam answered evenly, “No, just wondering.” Touché!

If Cam thought that would intimidate the teacher, make her rethink the victimizing, she was beyond wrong. Webb continued, “Well, Ms. Barnes, while that was a fascinating interlude, we’re still waiting for an answer.”

Brianna slid her platform-sandaled toe across the aisle that separated their desks, nudged Cam’s ankle, a hint that she knew the answer. Cam made the mistake of glancing over at her friend.

“We’re not tag-teaming here,” Webb snarled. “Either you know the answer or you don’t. Which is it, Ms. Barnes?”

She tried to conjure up the answer. Franklin Roosevelt? Napoleon? Golda Meir? Could have been any of those.

An unlikely source tried to break the tension. Scott Marino, freckle-faced class clown, blurted out, “She can’t phone a friend?”

“Nor can she poll the audience,” Ms. Webb rejoined without missing a beat, nor with a hint of humor. “This isn’t a quiz show, Mr. Marino.”

The distraction worked to Cam’s advantage. An image of John F. Kennedy came to her. She nailed it.

Which didn’t satisfy Ms. Webb, who sneered, “Incomplete. When did he say that? If you fail to answer both parts of the question, you get fifty percent — half credit.”

Cam was fuming. No one else got two-part questions! Everyone else got hints! And she’d given the correct answer!

Webb was so asking for it. Did she need a reminder of what Cam could do? She’s goin’ down!

“Ms. Barnes, we still await your answer. You have five seconds.”

Cam snapped.
You want an answer? How ’bout this?

Cam telescoped in on Webb’s bulging bug eyes. She’d done this before. During a soccer game last summer, she’d wished her opponent would trip, and unwittingly made it happen. Now her wits were totally about her. She recalled the words that had come to her that day and instantly revised them.
Treacherous teacher, you will not win. Blunder, and stumble, let the fun begin!

Fun, however, was not in the cards. In a bad-timing moment of epic proportions, Scott Marino popped out of his seat — right into the path of Cam’s penetrating stare.
Disoriented, he toppled over and shrieked, “I’m blind! Ahhh!! I can’t see! Help!!”

Cam was mortified. She leaped out of her seat and ran over to him. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay in a sec,” she whispered. “It’s only temporary.” She put her arm around him, attempting to help him up.

But Webb roughly edged her out of the way. “Scott? What happened? What’s going on?”

He wailed, “I fell. Everything’s too bright! The whole room’s white! I can’t see!”

Cam inserted herself between the teacher and the boy. She instructed, “Keep your eyes closed for a sec, blink. It’ll be okay in a minute.”

Ignoring her, Webb propelled him out the door, heading for the school nurse. But not before Cam heard Scott murmur, “Wait, stop. I think it’s better…. I can see now. I’m okay.”

Cam wasn’t. Bummed and shaken, her eyes stinging, she dashed out the door. She had to find Alex. But she hadn’t gotten two steps when Brianna grabbed her elbow and commanded, “Girls’ room, stat!”

“What exactly just happened in there?” Bree demanded as soon as they were inside and had made sure they were alone.

“Scott had a weird hysterical blindness thing …?” Cam replied weakly.

Bree’s expertly shaped eyebrows arched. “Must be catching. Didn’t the same thing happen to Lindsay on the soccer field?”

Great, not only had an innocent kid gotten the scare of his life, but Bree was suspicious. She was 0-2.

Cam fidgeted with her sun necklace. “Webb’s an equal-opportunity agitator. She could give anyone a panic attack.”

Bree pursed her lips. “Speaking of the wicked witch of Marble Bay High, are you, like, trying to get her to fail you?”

“Why do you say that?”

Brianna leaned into Cam. “Fact: Cruella de Vil was totally picking on you. But that bizarro question about shoplifting? What was up with that?”

“Look, I just… know something bad about her. She’s not what she seems.”

“Really?” Bree went on instant dirt alert. “Dish, now!”

Cam averted Brianna’s “you’ve gotta tell me” stare and sent a silent message to her twin.
Alex, where are you?

Right here, sis. Coming in the door.

Had she really heard that? Was Als near enough?

The girls’ room door opened and Alex, beat-up messenger bag slung crosswise over her shoulder, sauntered in, eye makeup still defiantly smudged.

Brianna cracked, “Love the spin-art approach to makeup, Dyslexia. You’ve really got that evil twin thing nailed. But maybe you can figure out why your sister is trying to fail social studies. As for moi, I decorate, therefore, I bounce.” Bree shouldered her Prada bag and headed out.

Alex took one look at her totally bummed-out sister and suggested, “To quote the local parlance — we should ‘bounce,’ too. A quiet place is …?”

“Soccer field,” Cam responded glumly. “No practice today.”

A few minutes later, the twins settled on the empty bleachers overlooking the deserted field.

“So what are you doing here anyway?” Cam asked. “No jamming with Dylan today?”

“I heard you,” Alex said gently, ignoring Cam’s sarcasm. “You needed me.”

“More than ‘wishes he were Bob’ Dylan?” Cam knew she was sounding whiny — jealous even — but was too tired to care.

Alex sighed. “Dudley Do-wrong has his own issues. I’ll deal with him later. Cam, what’s going on? What was Bree babbling about? What’d you do?”

Cam downloaded her twin on the whole bizarre social studies period, ending with her failure at tripping up Webb, and accidentally stun-gunning Scott Marino.

Alex was astonished. “You used your powers just because you might get what, a B? Dude, you’re making progress!”

Cam grimaced. Alex thought it was funny when it had been a really stupid move. She’d reacted out of anger, without considering the consequences. That was the real bad plan. Something, someone —

Right. Karsh should have come and put a stop to it.
Alex completed her thought.

“Als? Don’t you think it’s weird that we haven’t seen or even heard from them in so long? Unless,” Cam paused. “Unless you heard something and didn’t tell me?”

“Not guilty,” Alex responded. “Maybe this whole Webb deal isn’t on their danger radar. Though you’d think ‘gross misuse of powers’ would be reason enough for Karsh. As for her, Little Miss ‘Call Me Goddess’ always seems like she’s doing us the biggest favor by showing up.”

“What if we try to call them?” Cam suggested.

“What? Just yell out?” Alex kidded. “It’s not like we have the code, area or zip.”

Cam twisted her hair into a ponytail and tied a scrunchie around it. “We could try an incantation.”

“We don’t know any that work for summoning,” Alex reminded her.

“We’ve made up others on the spot,” Cam countered. “We’ve got our necklaces.”

Alex flipped her messenger bag open and pulled out paper at the exact same moment Cam got a pen out of her backpack.

Fifteen minutes later, Alex took Cam’s hand. Their words floated over the empty soccer field.

Tracker and guardian, sworn to protect,

This dusky twilight, please come and connect.

We see danger approaching, evil encroaching.

Be there for us so we may unite,

To banish corruption, join together, and fight.

CHAPTER NINE

A TALE OF
THREE BROTHERS

We see danger approaching, evil encroaching …”
Silently, Karsh finished the incantation. He could hear the twins summoning him. It broke his heart that he couldn’t respond. He had promised to always be there for them. A promise he never expected to break. But he also hadn’t expected to find himself in his current situation, hands bound by thick hemp cord that cut into his wrists, legs chained at the ankles so he could not rise without help. He could recite a spell and free himself, but his captors would no doubt turn him into some easily squashable creature, like a caterpillar or slug. There were two of them, both younger, stronger, and possibly
more powerful — and only one of him. They could, and would, overpower him in a split second.

Be there for us so we may unite,

To banish corruption, join together, and fight.

Karsh wanted desperately to respond telepathically, allow the twins to hear his calming voice in their heads. Camryn believed they were in danger; now Alexandra seemed to agree. By the words of their incantation he knew Ileana had not come to their aid, either. That distressed him more than anything. It meant his impetuous young charge was falling into the very trap set for her — that she would try to rescue him, instead of them. If he could accomplish only one thing in his disabled state, he would warn Ileana.

He heard the dangerously creaking, wooden steps groaning under the weight of heavy boots, followed by a lighter, but not more deft step. Quickly, Karsh dashed his own thoughts. His captors were also masterful mind readers.

“Very shrewd, you wily fox, scramble your thoughts as a radio dial caught between stations. An old trick.” Thantos now towered over Karsh, menacing and mean, stroking his full black beard. “Fitting for an
old
man.”

The most ruthless and powerful of warlocks had held Karsh captive here in this mildewed basement for
nearly two weeks. Not that he’d personally carried out the abduction or even planned it, for that matter. This turn of events had been made possible by Fredo, the other warlock, who’d backed into it, really, and now sat sulking in a corner of the room.

“Why don’t we just get rid of him?” the reedy-voiced Fredo whined. “I’ll do it!”

Thantos swiftly whirled around and pointed at Fredo. “You will do exactly as I command you. What I say and when I say so. Until then, keep your ideas in a place where I can’t even hear them.”

“You never think any of my ideas are good!” Fredo pouted and crossed his bony arms sullenly.

“When you finally have one, I’ll let you know!” Thantos thundered back at him, and Fredo cowered into his corner.

In spite of his situation, Karsh couldn’t help being amused. Their behavior now was not unlike what it had always been, when the brothers were children.

Thantos, the eldest, had been a large boy. Now, at six foot five inches tall, dark and muscular, he’d grown into an imposing man. He’d always had a mean streak — as a kid, he was a bully. As a man, he’d become a brute, ruthlessly driving the family business, CompUmag, into one of the richest and most powerful conglomerates in
the world. Lord Thantos — or Mr. Sot Naht, as he was known in the outside world — was “the brawn,” and he wielded immense and terrifying power.

Fredo, the youngest, had been a slight and sickly kid. None too bright, it had taken him three years, instead of the customary six months, to pass Coventry Island’s initiation tests and attain the rank of full-fledged warlock. He still was not an able tracker, and although he had learned the skill of transmutation, there were few forms he could really take. A huge and monstrous lizard was his favorite.

Fredo had grown older, but had never grown up. Now he’d become a dangerously inept adult, always trying to curry favor with his big brother. Until recently, Thantos had been content to allow Fredo to do some of his bidding. It kept the simpleton out of his way, and more important, away from CompUmag. Fredo was, and remained, the baby of the family.

In between those extremes was Aron, the middle brother. A handsome and exceptionally brilliant boy, he was first in his class in all subjects. Aron rose through the ranks of warlocks from guardian to tracker, shape-shifter, master of transmutation, and on to mentor. He’d been the youngest ever in all of Coventry Island’s history to be awarded a lordship.

Yet Aron had refused to “lord” his gifts over anyone.
He believed those who stood tallest were those who stooped to help others. All on Coventry Island accepted their destiny to serve humankind; Aron believed that in his heart.

It was Aron who’d started the company, CompUmag; it was Aron’s dream to develop and use technology for the good of all. More than a visionary, Aron was the brother smart enough to turn his dreams and ideas into reality.

Aron had been the brightest of the brothers.

Fredo had never grasped that simple fact.

Because Thantos did, he was wildly jealous. He coveted everything Aron had.

He still did.

“Camryn and Alexandra are my nieces, my blood. They will come to me, and there is nothing you can do to stop that!” Thantos had ranted at Karsh repeatedly for the past two weeks.

“And you believe that by keeping me from them —” Raising his sparse, wispy eyebrows just slightly, Karsh had continued wearily, “that they will fall into your clutches, just like that? You give me too much credit, Lord Thantos.”

Thantos’s mouth twisted into an evil grin. “I am not crediting you, doddering fool. You know why I have you here.”

“You’re the bait!” Fredo crowed, feeling brave enough now to rise from his corner of the room and head over toward Karsh.

“Shut up, you imbecile!” Thantos roared, stopping Fredo in his tracks.

“All we want,” Thantos had told Karsh threateningly on that first day, “is a little bit of your time. Not that, by the looks of it, you have that much left!”

Silently, Karsh cursed the infirmities of his advanced age. A younger man would not be bowed by arthritis, by weakened bones; a healthier specimen would not need to rely on the elixirs and potions to keep the constant pain at bay.

His younger, stronger self would not have been hoodwinked by Thantos, or kidnapped by Fredo in the first place.

It happened the very night Ileana had brought Fredo back from Marble Bay, to the steps of the Coventry Island Unity Council. Yes, Lady Rhianna was there, ready to take him into custody, but the Exalted Elder on her own could not stop Fredo from shape-shifting into a giant lizard. Ileana had not bothered to follow the rules, to be sure there were three Elders in attendance when she brought him in. Startled by his rank insubordination, Lady Rhianna had not reacted quickly enough. Fredo had gotten away.

His destination was not Thantos’s mansion on the mainland. Too terrified of his brother’s wrath to show up empty-handed, he’d hatched a plan to capture Karsh. Fredo wasn’t as smart as the wise Karsh, but he could, and did, use the shock of surprise.

A stealth attack.

Karsh had been in his tangled, overgrown herb garden, tending to the special plants that helped him wage a valiant fight against his constant pain. He’d just picked enough to concoct the elixir he needed when, without warning, the immense lizard had swooped from the sky, snatched him in its monstrous claws, and carried him off — Karsh had dropped the seeds of his herbal remedy, spreading them over the landscape below.

Sometime later, Fredo delivered him to Thantos, unsure of what he had even accomplished by taking the tracker.

Enraged that Fredo had failed to deliver the twins, Thantos had quickly thought of a way to use his baby brother’s “gift.” He would use the elderly warlock to lure Ileana. Surely, she would rescue Karsh. And with the two of them out of the way, Camryn and Alexandra would be unprotected.

So far, it hadn’t worked. But Thantos knew it would. He knew Ileana. For all her brilliance, her cunning, her beauty, bravery, even — at the bottom of it all — her
pure heart, her downfall was what it had always been. Impatience.

She would not wait much longer to make her move.

Karsh knew what Thantos was thinking. He also knew a secret — one that neither of his captors realized he knew. Thantos might threaten Ileana, he might frighten, trick, and ultimately ensnare her. But he would not harm the talented young witch.

Which made Karsh think of someone else he once believed the hulking madman would never harm.

Thantos let out a deep, throaty laugh. “So, my lordship, you’re still thinking of her after all these years. Interesting that you didn’t scramble
that
thought; it was easy for me to read.”

Karsh raised his raspy voice. “What did you do to her? Surely, in my incapacitated state, you can tell me. I am no threat to you.”

Thantos stroked his dark, coarse beard. “Miranda, Miranda. What makes you think I had anything to do with the disappearance of my brother’s wife?”

Fredo cut in, “Yeah, what makes you think she’s alive? Besides, why do you care? Forget about her. She’s gone, dead to you. You’ve got bigger problems.”

Karsh blinked suddenly, as the thought, the
certainty,
washed over him. “Miranda’s
not
dead, is she?”

Thantos abruptly sprang out his chair. Stopping just
short of the old man’s nose, he seethed, “Know this: You will never see her alive again.”

“Why is that, Lord Thantos?” Karsh challenged, unbowed and unafraid.

“Because, you stubborn, senile old trickster, if your ward, the charming Ileana, fails to come to your rescue, or delays much longer, you will be quite unable to see anyone ever again. You will be dead.”