T*Witches: Don’t Think Twice (2 page)

CHAPTER THREE

THE FIRST NOTE

“Poor Marco,” Alex gloated, when they got home and closed the door to their shared bedroom. “With his caboose out of commission, he won’t be able to sit through a drama class, let alone a Bruins game. You should be thanking me.”

Cam had many things on her mind. Thanking Alex was not one of them. “He really got hurt! How many times have Karsh and Ileana told us: We don’t use our powers to injure the innocent.”

It was true. Ileana, their headstrong guardian witch, had reminded them of this several times. And, of course, so had Karsh, the wise old warlock who was Ileana’s guardian. Both were charged with teaching the twins
how to use their strange and, at times, unpredictable powers properly.

“Even if the innocent is a raging rat hurting someone you care about?” Alex asked. “If you chill for five seconds, I’ll tell you what happened.”

When she finished recounting Brianna’s bummer, from birthday desertion to date despair, Alex assumed Cam would apologize or at least lighten up.

Wrong. Her sister was still in a funk. “You can’t just go poking into other people’s brains whenever you feel like it,” Cam grumbled, beginning to undress.

“Hello, don’t you get it? I didn’t
choose
to overhear Bree’s long-distance call, it just happened.”

“Whatever,” Cam said dismissively.

“You know what?” Alex was so over her sister’s bad mood. “I’ve got more important things to think about.”
And so do you!
she thought.

Cam picked up on the unspoken remark right away. “Oh, give it a rest,” she muttered.

“Whoops, my bad,” Alex said sarcastically, plopping down on her bed and pulling off her boots. “I mean, having a nice, normal night out is way more urgent than —”

“I care!” Cam snapped. “I want to find our mother as much as you do! I just … There are other things to consider. Everything’s not as simple as you’d like it to be.”

Alex didn’t need eyes as sharp as Cam’s to see that
her twin was wrestling with an issue: an issue named Emily Barnes.

Emily and David Barnes were the couple who had adopted Cam as an infant. Unlike Sara Fielding, who’d been Alex’s adoptive mom, Emily was alive and well.

And so, it now seemed, was Miranda, the twin’s biological mother.

Well, alive anyway.

Last summer, right after Sara’s death, Alex had felt the same way Cam did now, she guessed. She’d had no interest in finding the stranger who’d given birth to them and then vanished. Back then, Sara Fielding was the only mom Alex had ever known — or wanted to know.

But recently she and Cam had stumbled onto evidence that Miranda might be hidden away in an institution, receiving visits from the twins’ brutal uncle Thantos.

Lord Thantos, a burly, black-bearded tracker, was the beast who’d murdered their father, Aron.

It was Karsh and Ileana who had found Aron dead. And it was Ileana who had sheltered the newborn twins in her arms as their mother’s sorrow and shock gave way to madness.

Wild with grief, Miranda had vanished that very night. Whether she’d wandered into the harsh wilderness of Coventry or thrown herself into the icy waters surrounding the island, no one knew for sure. But she
had not been seen or heard from in fifteen years. She was assumed dead.

Since then, Ileana was convinced, Thantos had been trying to lure, catch, and kill Aron and Miranda’s children. Thantos and a third brother, Fredo, had been in pursuit of the twins for years. But thank goodness Fredo was as weak and ridiculous as his older brother, Thantos, was strong and terrifying.

“I’m taking a shower,” Cam informed her sister, and closed the door to the bathroom that separated their room from Dylan’s.

“Good,” Alex responded, peeling off her socks. “Make it a cold one. You need to chill.”

“Right,” Cam barked back. “And you need to stop obsessing!”

Like that was possible, Alex thought as she heard the shower water revving full force. She reached over and pulled the trashy newspaper
Starstruck
out of Cam’s bowling bag. It was the kind of supermarket rag that headlined stories about alien invasions, dead celebrity sightings, and the birth of three-headed monster sharks. There, on the cover of last week’s edition, was Uncle Thantos.

BILLIONAIRE RECLUSE SNAPPED BY STARSTRUCK’S INTREPID
CAMERAMAN
was plastered across the front page under the hulking warlock’s furious face. And then,
SEE PG.
4.

Alex didn’t have to turn to page four. She’d practically memorized the article. It was captioned
Camera-shy technology billionaire, Lord Thantos DuBaer, enters celebrity clinic
, and it speculated on what illness the computer tycoon was seeking help for.

Alex stared again at the picture of their sneering uncle, then tried to decipher the fuzzy black-and-white images behind him. Could she and Cam have missed something as they’d pored over that photograph? No, there was still no nameplate on the institution’s door, no reference in the story to the name or location of the celebrity clinic. There was, however, a spiny shrub that looked like a palm tree.

Cam had zoned in on the plant days ago and had sarcastically pointed out that it narrowed their search to Florida, Hawaii, and every warm-weather site in between.

But if they could find the “intrepid” cameraman who’d taken the picture, they could find the sanitarium.

And they had to find it. To find her.

The rag-mag
Starstruck
had gotten it wrong. Thantos wasn’t a patient. He was a visitor, and the patient he’d been to see was Miranda. Their mother. They
had no hard evidence, just Cam’s premonition and Alex’s belief in it.

Cam
had
e-mailed
Starstruck
right away. She’d left her cell phone number on multiple voice mails but so far no one had gotten back to her. Tonight, she didn’t even seem to care.

Cam had been first to push, Alex recalled, pulling her wrinkled turtleneck over her head, to jump on the we’ve-got-to-find-our-real-mom express.

And now she was backing down. Why would she insist on a stupid night of bowling, a major delay tactic, when they should have been spending every minute trying to find Miranda?

And what if we do find her?
Cam was thinking at that exact moment.
What happens to us, to my family, to Mom, especially? What’s going to happen to Emily?

I knew it!
Alex barged in telepathically.
You’re more worried about hurting Emily’s feelings than finding our real mother
.

I may be in the shower, Alex, but you’re the one who’s all wet
, Cam shot back, shutting off the water. Stepping out onto the bath mat, she wrapped herself in a towel, a big, thick, still-fluffy-from-the-dryer towel that felt warm, clean, and safe — like her life, like bowling with her buds, like home….

“Busted!” Alex flung open the bathroom door and pointed an accusing finger at her startled sister. “You’re wimping on me. Now that we’re close to finding her, you’re backpedaling. What are you really afraid of?”

“You!” Cam shot back. “You and your prying, brain-busting, thought-lifting ESP ears. Not even the shower is a sanctuary from your snooping! Besides, you obviously know what I was thinking —”

“Let me guess. You were cherishing your oh-so-boring existence?” In spite of her irritation, Alex handed Cam another towel to wrap around her dripping hair. “You are scared that finding Miranda will shatter your sheltered life for good? Or could it be your perfect parents you’re worried about? Afraid that making contact with our birth mom will drive Emily around the bend?”

Cam bit her lip and turned away. Hugging the towel around her, she said into the steamy mirror, “Things will be different, Als, when we find Miranda. There’s no way they can’t be.”

“We don’t know what we’ll find, or if we’ll even find her,” Alex pointed out. “So it’s a little soon to freak. You’re suffering from premature wig-out.”

Cam touched Alex’s elbow. “We will find her. You and me together, we can do pretty much anything we set our minds and witchy talents to. Even if we are just —”
Unconsciously, she rubbed her gold sun pendant between her thumb and forefinger. The charm hung on a chain around her neck. Cam rarely took it off.

“Fledglings,” Alex finished the sentence. “That’s what Karsh calls us.”

“Right,” Cam agreed. “Beginners. But one day we’ll be what he and Ileana are. Top-ranked witches. Trackers. And that means we’ll be able to track her, to find her.”

“One day,” Alex repeated, frustrated. “One day it’ll be too late.” Instinctively, her fingers sought the gold half-moon charm hanging from her necklace.

Their birth father, Aron, had made them the amulets. He’d made only one other: a linked sun and moon charm for his wife, their lost mother, Miranda.

Cam shooed her sister out of the bathroom and managed a weak smile. Her life had taken a shocking twist when Alexandra Fielding, dragging a scrungy little duffel bag and a weighty chip on her shoulder, had come into it.

But no one in the world knew her like Alex did. Growing up, Cam had
done
all the normal things, but — like the dazzling sun without its shadow-casting counterpart, the moon — she’d never felt whole. Before Alex, she wasn’t.

“What’s that paper?” she asked minutes later, coming into their bedroom, buttoning her soft flannel pj’s.

Alex was on the bed in one of Sara’s worn T-shirts. “Oh, it’s just the one with Thantos’s picture on the cover.”

“No, not that.” Cam pointed. “The piece of paper on the floor near my bowling bag.”

Alex shrugged. “Must’ve fallen out when I snagged the copy of
Starstruck
.”

Cam scooped up the folded sheet, opened it, and gasped. Typed in wildly different fonts was an unsigned message:
She needs you.
Only you
can save her
.

CHAPTER FOUR

FREDO’S TRIAL

The Coventry Island Unity Council was in session. Lady Rhianna, the Exalted Elder in charge, sat in her plush chair at the center of the amphitheater. Lord Grivveniss and Lady Fan flanked Rhianna.

A trial was about to begin. The entire community, it seemed, was abuzz and in attendance. A member of the exalted DuBaer family, long suspected of misuse of magick, now stood accused of a more serious crime. Fredo, the clan’s youngest and most inept DuBaer, had caused havoc since childhood. In a moment, Lady Rhianna would read the charges lodged against him. Then, an advocate would present the People’s case, followed by a
supporter for the Accused, who would defend the wayward warlock.

The verdict would eventually be rendered by a group of Coventry Island Elders, who occupied the first three rows of the amphitheater.

Lord Karsh fit neatly into that category, but he was not sitting among his peers. The aged warlock had achieved Exalted Elder status long ago and was one of the most revered members of the Coventry community.

Today, he and Ileana, the imperious young witch he’d reared, would play a different role. They were to be the voice of the People. Karsh had been chosen to present the case and paid rapt attention as the plump, wiry-haired Rhianna cleared her throat, about to begin.

“Fredo DuBaer,” she called, her deep voice echoing through the packed chamber, “has been accused of numerous misdeeds, including unauthorized shape-shifting, using his magick to terrorize rather than heal, and — the most serious offense —”

Ileana should have been keenly attentive, but lost in thought, she barely heard the charges.

Her guardian, Karsh, his craggy white face wearing the friendly grin that so often frightened fledglings, elbowed her gently. “They’ll be safe,” he whispered to the preoccupied young witch.

“Ha!” Ileana exclaimed too loudly. “Safe is so not their style.”

They were speaking of Camryn and Alexandra, born Artemis and Apolla on Coventry Island. Born, Ileana reminded herself with a shudder, into a family whose name called up as much fear, awe, and envy as it did admiration. The DuBaer dynasty had produced generations of great witches and warlocks. And in those generations, most had used their power and wealth for good — but there were others who had opted for evil.

Lady Rhianna was reciting the major charge levied against Fredo. “… breaking the terms of his parole by leaving the island without notifying the Council and attempting to forcibly abduct innocent fledglings —”

“The twin daughters of Aron and Miranda?” Lady Fan interrupted, smiling slyly. “They are young but not exactly innocent. I hear they’re quite clever for unschooled witches. And they are the Accused’s family.”

Sensing danger, Ileana looked up at last. “Does that make his kidnapping attempts any less monstrous?” she demanded.

“Well, it is a point worth considering,” the dotty Lord Grivveniss announced, nodding as solemnly as a dashboard dog. “It might be considered a mitigating circumstance, eh? Perhaps Fredo was merely trying to introduce himself to his nieces. After all, he’d never met
them. Perhaps that’s why he left the island without permission, eh? Compelled by love of family —”

“Love of family!” Ileana leaped to her feet.

“Exalted Elders.” Karsh stepped in front of her. “If Fredo had wanted to see his nieces he could have done so many years ago, when their proud father invited both his brothers — Thantos as well as Fredo — to enter his home and meet them. Instead, Aron was lured outside and murdered —”

“Yes, murdered by his own brother,” Ileana hollered from behind her guardian.

“Enough!” Lady Rhianna cut her off. Rising from her thronelike chair she began pacing before the bench where Karsh and Ileana stood. “Your accusation has never been proved, Ileana. I challenged you to bring Lord Thantos before this Council to present his side of the story and you failed at that —”

“I failed?” Ileana laughed bitterly. “All Coventry has failed. Thantos sends computers and gifts and money to the Council and the hunt for him is sidelined. He is wanted for questioning in the death of my charges’ father, but his gifts are accepted and no one —”

“You insult the Council!” Indignant, Lady Fan drew herself up but, as she was barely four and a half feet tall, the gesture seemed more comical than commanding.

“Still, we are grateful, young witch,” Rhianna said,
stepping between Fan and Ileana, “that you returned Fredo DuBaer to Coventry. He is a nuisance and, some think, a disgrace to our kind. Yet he deserves to be heard.”

During Fredo’s arraignment a week earlier, it had been decided that Karsh would speak on behalf of the community. The problem had been finding an advocate for Fredo.

“Impossible,” Lady Fan had despaired as the trio of Exalted Elders had discussed it. “Who on this island would stand up for that troubled creature? I doubt that there’s a respectable witch or warlock who would take his case.”

Before Fan completed her sentence, the amphitheater was rocked by a sudden quake. The sunlight that had poured through the building’s glass dome turned cloudy. Darkness descended on the Council chamber.

“He’s here,” Ileana had whispered, trembling.

Karsh had nodded silently and allowed her to curl, childlike, into his arms.

A darkness within the darkness stirred. A purple light spilled from the lining of a large black cape, casting a violet glow over the chamber and outlining a tall, bearded figure. A deep, angry voice bellowed, “I will stand up for my brother.”

The cloud that had shadowed the dome blew past, allowing daylight back into the room.

“Lord Thantos.” Lady Rhianna smiled at the hulking, black-bearded tracker. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had the pleasure of your company on Coventry Island.”

A scornful smile curled Thantos’s lips. He bowed mockingly. “Pleasure? We’ll soon see if it’s pleasure that I bring. Lords and Ladies, Exalted Elders,” he said, ignoring Ileana, “let the trial begin!”