Witch & Wizard 04 - The Kiss (18 page)
Read Witch & Wizard 04 - The Kiss Online
Authors: James Patterson
“I admit, it could use a coat of paint,” I say, sticking my head out to examine the charred remains of Heath’s porch. “And here I thought you were just being melodramatic.”
“I have to show you something, Wisty. You have to come with me,” Byron urges. “It’s just across town—”
“Byron, we’ve been through this….” I sigh from the doorway, crossing my arms. Since the night he spied on me with Whit, Byron’s not exactly on my most-trustworthy list.
“You’re on private property.” Heath steps behind me and slides a protective arm around my waist. “She doesn’t want to talk to you,” he adds.
Byron shoots Heath a scowl, but at least he’s no longer swinging fists. He shifts uncomfortably.
“Please, Wisty,” he begs. “This isn’t…” He lowers his voice. “This isn’t about you and me. This is more important than all that. It’s confidential info I’ve been trying to crack for weeks.” His eyes shine with self-congratulatory purpose. “This is something big.”
“So what is it?” I ask doubtfully.
“You have to come see it. I’ll take you there right now,” Byron says. “I guess the Demon can come, too,” he adds begrudgingly.
It turns out “just across town” is actually the westernmost part of the City. After following Byron Swain’s speedy shuffle for over two hours and enduring hateful glares from almost every corner of the City, my patience is wearing thin.
“Byron, where are we going?” I huff. “We’re almost to the desert—”
“Exactly,” Byron says without slowing down. The heat seems to close in on us suddenly and we’re upon it—the border with the Desert that has no name, where the Lizard People supposedly live under the sand, and where legend has it that no City dweller has ever set foot.
But right on the edge of the City line, instead of the usual endlessness stretching out before us, there are buildings. Rows of crude, half-finished structures, crammed almost on top of one another. A towering, mean-looking fence surrounds the development, with barbs and wires sticking out all over.
A memory resurfaces—a memory of drills, degradation, and death—and I realize what this reminds me of, what this looks exactly like: the New Order barracks. My stomach clenches into a knot.
“What is this?” I whisper.
“We already knew Bloom was planning for war,” Heath says flatly. “So he’s building a place to train an army.”
But Byron is shaking his head. “This isn’t for training an army,” he insists. He grips the fence and looks out across the construction.
“Well, what’s it for, then, Swain?” Heath asks, irritated that Byron is drawing this out.
It’s me who Byron looks at, though, and his expression is troubled. “It’s a ghetto,” he says. “Bloom plans to move all the magicians here when the City seizes their homes. And who knows what comes after that? Gas chambers?”
Our rights, gone. Our people, persecuted. A return to the police state.
Byron shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Wisty.”
I feel dizzy, and for a second it feels like the ground is coming up to meet me. I lean into the fence for support.
A jolt of searing pain slams through me then, and I see a flash of blinding white. Somehow I’m sailing backward through the air, my whole body ringing like a bell. I smash into the sandy ground fifty feet away, and gag as the impact knocks the breath out of me.
Yes, there’s always room for things to get worse.
“WHAT EXACTLY WAS THAT?” I mutter groggily. “A star exploding in my face?”
“A high-voltage shock, if I had to guess,” Heath answers as he leans over me with concern. “Thank god you’re alive, Wisty.”
“But Byron didn’t get shocked,” I wonder aloud.
“There must be some sort of barrier for magicians.” Byron steps back, frowning, with his hands on his hips as he assesses the fence. “Some sort of new technology to incapacitate, to control…”
A prison.
“We have to mobilize,” Byron says excitedly. “We have to infiltrate the Council, and rally the people, and set up a petition—”
“I have to bring Whit back!” I exclaim, sitting up abruptly. My head spins.
“What do you mean?” Heath says in alarm.
I struggle to get up after the massive shock, and Heath assists. But once I’m up, I’m steady. And determined. “He needs to be here. This is too big. I can’t do this alone, and I need—”
“Whit
left
you, remember?” Heath interrupts. “And you have me.”
“And I’m so grateful,” I say, and kiss him softly. “But…”
But he doesn’t understand how it is with Whit and me. I love Heath, but I
need
my brother.
“I still have to bring Whit back,” I finish. “If Bloom’s planning for war, Whit could be caught in the crossfire. I’m going up that Mountain.”
“No!” Heath yells suddenly. His eyes flash with panic. “Wisty, you can’t!”
Byron and I both stare at him in surprise.
“
Excuse me?
” I ask. If it’s not clear by now, I don’t exactly love being told what I can and can’t do. Even by people I love.
“You don’t understand.” Heath is pacing now, raking his hands through his hair. “The Wizard King doesn’t just want to attack the City.” He stops in front of me. “He wants your power, Wisty. And if he can’t control it, he’ll kill you.”
“But Whit—”
“Are you listening to what I’m saying?” He squeezes my shoulders a little too hard. “Your brother’s probably already dead! They wanted him dead before he even started his stupid mission!”
Whit… probably dead?
I feel like Heath just socked me in the stomach.
And… how would Heath know they wanted Whit dead?
“What are you talking about?” I almost spit out at him. When he doesn’t answer, a mix of rage and desperation starts to take hold of me. I hardly even realize I’m shaking him. “Heath, tell me what you know!”
“I grew up on the Mountain,” he says quietly, his cheeks reddening with shame.
I gape at him.
The Mountain.
As in, where we believe all the kids are disappearing to. As in, the place no one else seems to know anything about. As in, the Kingdom that is about to invade us.
“You
what
?” I demand.
“I knew it!” Byron shouts victoriously. “I knew he was hiding something! I knew he was a traitor—”
“Byron!” I snap. He shrugs and shuts up. “Just because Heath’s from the Mountain… doesn’t mean he’s a traitor,” I reason aloud, talking to myself as much as to Byron. “Right?” We both look at Heath questioningly.
“Of course I’m not. I wanted to leave that place behind. I hated it and everyone there.” His frown is getting deeper and deeper. “I wanted to start over. I’m no traitor, Wisty.”
“But how would you know that the Mountain King wanted Whit dead before he left to go there?”
“Because I know the way the Mountain People think. They think they’re superior. They’ll kill anyone who they see as a threat to their superiority.
And that includes you.
” He grasps my arms. “Don’t go, Wisty.”
I fling his hands off me and stumble backward in the packed sand. “How could you not warn me before I let my brother go up there?!”
“I had to keep you safe here,” Heath says quickly, moving toward me. Byron steps in front of him. “I couldn’t let Whit get in the way of that—”
“I have to go,” I snap. “I have to find a portal to get up that Mountain.”
“The portals are all closed,” Byron says helpfully. “I saw it on the news.”
“Then I guess I should start running!” I say, turning. I know I can do this. Even alone.
“Wisty, wait!” Heath pleads. He brushes past Byron.
“I’ve waited too long already,” I say, and start to jog away from him. “Thanks to you.”
“I know a better way up the Mountain!” Heath shouts in desperation.
I stop abruptly. “Which way?”
“The way is with me. It’s
through
me.” His eyes are penetrating me. Commanding me. “Take my hand, Wisty.”
WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE.
Those are the only words I can think, over and over again.
We’re going to die. Painfully. Gruesomely. And very soon.
“We have to get out of here!” Ross is shrieking. He’s flattened against the Vault’s door, I’m pacing the small space, and Janine is sitting silently in the corner with her knees pulled up to her chest.
We have to get out of here.
If only it was that easy. We spent the entire night trying to break open the iron door through magic, then lock picking and body slamming. It didn’t budge.
The glass across the room did, though.
At dawn, the viewing screen that separates us from the group of powerful, hungry snow leopards started lifting. It’s continued to move an inch every fifteen minutes or so, and each time it rises, so does our panic.
“We have to stop it!” Ross cries desperately as the glass jerks up again.
Three inches now.
The big cats stalk back and forth in front of the glass, their predators’ eyes watching us hungrily.
“If I have to die, I’d rather go like this,” Janine says. “Better than some coward with a gun. This is a noble death, at least.” Her voice is strong with conviction, but her body is shaking from head to toe.
“Noble?”
Ross’s fear is reaching a fever pitch. “They’ll tear us apart, limb from limb. There’s no dignity in that.” He starts to suck in agitated breaths.
Janine doesn’t answer, but I can see the terror on her face.
I hope they kill me first
, I think miserably, watching the powerful muscles ripple beneath the spotted coats. It’s a coward’s thought, but I don’t know if I can bear to watch Janine die first—to see what they’d do to her.
Another inch.
Already?
The leopards start to claw at the opening now, their big paws swiping under. I grind my teeth as I pace, back and forth, faster and faster.
Think. I have to think of something!
I could try to freeze the leopards in place, but when the spell wore off, we’d still be locked in.
I could turn into a cockroach and scuttle into a crack in the wall, or morph into a grizzly again and lead the attack. But with nowhere to run, where does that leave my friends?
Think!
But the minutes are flying by as my thoughts careen in hopeless circles.
The glass edges up another inch.
And that’s it.
“Get back!” I scream at Janine, scrambling frantically away from the glass.
We flatten ourselves against the far wall with Ross, waiting for the first one to squeeze through and tear into flesh.
But the leopards can’t get in. Not yet. They flatten their ears, hissing and baring those awful teeth, anxious to get at us. It won’t be long now. An inch more, maybe two…
I hold my friends, counting the seconds in my head as I stare at the hungry beasts. Their golden eyes stare right back, the pinlike pupils zeroing in on me.
So this is what it’s like—to look death in the face.
“I don’t want to die,” Ross says hysterically, over and over.
And Janine, though I never thought she was religious, starts to pray.
Then there’s a sudden click, and we all nearly jump out of our skin.
THE LOCK! THE IRON DOOR is sliding open.
Njar stands at the entrance to our prison cell, leaning on a cane, and for a moment, all I can do is stare, dumbfounded at his courage.
“You saved my life,” the crippled boy reminds me. And that’s all he has time to say before we fly into motion. Just when we fling ourselves through the door, we hear a terrifying yowl as the cats rush to pounce.
Another inch, another second, and we would’ve been a feline feast.
I lift Janine into the air, deliriously thankful as the door slams behind us, and Ross hugs us both.
“Thank you!” I gasp, embracing Njar into our little group. He smiles, but I can see in his fearful eyes what a serious risk he’s taking.
“There is one more thing we require of you,” Izbella says, stepping out of the shadows. She steeples her gloved fingers, and her eyes pierce right through me.
I nod, waiting for her request. Izbella beckons us to follow her, and Njar waves, staying behind to keep watch.
“You love your sister, don’t you, Whit Allgood?”
“More than anything,” I answer without hesitation.
“Well, I love my son.” Izbella’s feathers rustle as she walks ahead of us through the dark catacombs. “Unfortunately, they seem to love each other.”
Heath is her son
, I realize, stunned.
“We share a common interest,” Izbella agrees. “If either of them is to live, you must keep them apart.”
Protect my sister from a guy I already hate?
I nod, tightening my jaw.
My pleasure.
“Then go. Quick as you can,” Izbella says as we approach a hidden exit. “Stay on the east road. The cats know your scent, and when he frees them, you won’t have much time. And take these.” She throws us a couple of rough pelts. “They won’t be enough, but they’ll help.”
“Thank you.” I squeeze her hand as we step into the blinding light toward our escape. “Thank you for your kindness.”
“Remember, don’t stray from the east road!” the feathered woman warns.
THE ROCKS LOOSEN under our feet and we stumble forward down the steep incline, racing as fast as our bodies will carry us. Our legs are pumping and our knees are close to buckling, but it’s still not fast enough.
With only the pelts from Izbella to keep us warm, we’re losing more body heat with every step. We’re at grave risk for exposure, and we don’t have much time before the hypothermia sets in. Not to mention the soldiers and snow leopards…
Only… I
have
to stop.
