Evelina and the Reef Hag Page 5
“Nice.” Evelina gazed up at the giant tree fort. “But how do we get up there?”
“Bang the knockers, of course.” Burble marched forward between the four palms, then pulled on a dangling vine. The hollow clatter of coconuts followed. A bamboo swing dropped down from the trees. “Hop on.” She planted herself on the swing, then pulled the vine again. She went flying up into the air, disappearing through a trap door.
The girls exchanged startled glances.
Evelina gave the vine a tug.
The swing descended with a whoosh.
She hopped on, then yanked it again. Laughter bubbled up in her throat as she flew up into the air. The next thing she knew she’d landed on her feet and the swing disappeared down the trap like an elevator.
Tally arrived wearing a perma-grin.
Abby laughed out loud when her feet hit the floor.
“Get a good night’s sleep,” Burble said. “Tomorrow is a very busy day.” She gave a tug on her ear.
And poof!
She was gone.
Evelina blinked, staring at the spot where she’d been. It was unsettling to have people suddenly disappear. She’d never get used to them just popping in and out like that.
She did a three sixty, gazing around the tree fort. “Wow.” It was big. It smelled of pineapple and coconut. A complete kitchen with a bar and bamboo stools occupied one end. Further exploration revealed tidy shelves with stacks of wooden cups and bowls.
“Welcome to paradise.” Abby hopped up into one of the red canvas hammocks swinging from the rafters. She stretched out with her hands behind her head and grinned. “I think I’m going to like it here.”
Evelina leaned over the rail, listening to the lapping of the ocean below. “I wonder what the warlocks are doing right now?”
“Logic would dictate the same thing as we are.” Tally said in superior tones. “I assume they’re settling in.”
Logic? Logic had nothing to do with it. They were Water Witches. Evelina resisted the urge to point this out.
“I wouldn’t mind having a look myself.” Abby had that reckless look in her eye—the kind Evelina always found hard to resist. “Maybe we should go over and find out.”
A thrill ran through Evelina. “What do you mean?”
“I know where they are.” Abby grinned, teeth flashing white in the darkness. “Cliff let it slip last night. They’re on the other end of the island.”
The rhythmic sound of drumbeats echoed in the distance, then disappeared.
“What was that?” Tally whispered, pupils growing as large as grapes.
Abby rushed to the railing to lean over, as though straining to hear. “The Glaring.” She turned back around. “It’s begun.
***
“We’re spying, you know,” Tally whispered fiercely.
“I know,” Abby said in hushed tones, brimming with excitement. “Isn’t it great?”
Evelina put a finger to her lips.
The last thing they needed was to get caught.
The palms were already rustling thanks to Tally’s shivers.
What they were doing was wrong. But it probably wasn’t the first time witches had spied on warlocks. It must have been going on for centuries. So many secrets couldn’t help but incite curiosity.
There were only so many things you could ask during a short Cosmic Call. And she had so many questions. Like what the warlocks did at their council meetings—something she hoped to discover tonight.
Besides, she wanted to see them in action—find out what really made them tick.
“Looks kind of boring.” Abby spread the rushes wider, leaning closer. “I was hoping for loincloths or something.”
Weren’t they all? Evelina silently nodded in agreement. It seemed unfair that they raced around in silk tunics with the wind up their skirts, while warlocks wore surf shorts in their tribe’s colors.
The deep dooom, dooom, dooom of a drum filled the air with a steady hollow beat.
Evelina’s gaze flew past the enchanted drum with no musician, to the lagoon alit with bamboo torches. A line of older warlocks filed up to fill their hollow coconuts. They looked to be the age of mentors—maybe nineteen.
Steam rose like sea spray above the massive tortoise shell bowl bubbling before the councilors. They wore surf shorts, but were bare-chested like the younger warlocks. Impressive necklaces of polished coral, shark’s teeth and green sea glass hung around their necks, setting them apart from the rest.
“Acheron Wolf,” Tally whispered as the lanky, black-haired councilor of the Swamp Hogs ladled out the hissing brew.
Evelina sniffed the air. “Smells like Blue Moon tea.”
“What’s up with that?” Abby sounded disgusted. “They’re trippin’ out on Blue Moon tea, while we’re runnin’ our tails off.”
Blue Moon tea was a sedative. Evelina remembered Udora giving it to Mrs. Segal to ease her aches and pains the night of the bath bomb fiasco. It made her talk all night in her sleep, spouting crazy, nonsensical things. Evelina had to ram her head under her pillow to finally get to sleep.
But, why did they need to be sedated?
A moment later her question was answered.
Each warlock waited their turn to lie down on a log bench. She couldn’t believe what happened next. The councilor from Oceana grabbed a slithering lamprey eel from a bucket, then stuck it on the heel of the Warlock.
“Sydney McCrystal,” Tally supplied. “He’s still the Diviner.”
The young warlock grimaced in pain while the eel’s tail writhed in the air.
McCrystal nodded his head of wild white hair toward the next victim.
“Third year warlocks are marked with their tribe’s symbol when they become mentors,” Abby said, sounding awestruck. “It’s a rite of passage.”
“Wow!” Evelina stared in amazement. “They have some twisted rituals, don’t they? I’m glad we don’t have to do that.”
Tally pursed her lips. “Because they’re savages and we aren’t.”
The drum pounded faster as if to prove her claim.
Another group of younger warlocks raced across the sand to four palm trees on the opposite side of the lagoon. One after another, they shimmied up. Each tribe had a tree. The object appeared to be getting as many team members up the tree as possible.
The other two councilors seemed to be in charge of this, refereeing from either side.
“The one with the stop watch is Zale Specter, Councilor of White Water,” Tally nodded her head toward the golden merman on the left. “The other one is Rio Beck, of Lake of the Isles.”
When the drum stopped, whoops of triumph broke out.
Lake of the Isles had won.
Rio Beck appeared pleased. He flashed a broad grin, softening his hawkish features. He folded his arms across his big barrel chest like a proud Aztec, surveying his warriors.
Evelina almost cheered, but managed to squelch it to a squeak.
“Why do they get to decide who sits on the Witches’ Council?” Abby’s features creased with distain. “They seem a little under qualified, don’t you think—if not unbalanced—shimmying up palm trees, getting tattoos. Any moment now one of them is going to start beating their chest.”
“They don’t choose the witch or warlock who sits on it, just the tribe they’re from.” Tally droned in her professor voice. “The diviner and the Witches’ Council must vote.”
“The diviner influences the next generation,” Abby declared stoutly. “Which is more important. Luckily we do that.”
“The Witches’ Council is there for eternity.”
“Shhh!” Evelina waved them to silence. Abby and Tally loved to debate until their tongues swelled. They’d be discovered long before one conceded the other one right.
Evelina leaned forward to listen, but the crowd of warlocks had closed in around the councilors.
She couldn’t hear a thing.
“I’m just saying,” Abby lowered her voice, “I think positions
should switch sooner than every hundred years.”
“It’s the way it’s always been.” Tally looked skyward, as if imagining the councilors’ eyes upon her.
“Yes,” Abby’s tone turned impatient, “but who has the greatest impact—them or us?”
“That depends.” Tally raised one thin brow. “Do you want to guide the here and now, or clean up the mess after?”
“Right now,” Evelina said in hushed tones, putting an end to their bickering. “They’re on the move. Uh oh! There’s a group of warlocks heading our way. Run!”
Evelina sprinted down the path, the way they came with Abby and Tally close behind.
She’d only trod a quarter of a mile when she heard a loud screech.
Not like a bird, but strangled and desperate—oddly haunting somehow.
She stumbled to a halt to listen, but only heard the rasp of her own breath on the wind.
Abby and Tally thundered up behind her as she started to run again.
All three of them nearly collided when she tripped over something.
Evelina cursed under her breath.
It was long and narrow and directly across the path—a log or something.
She leaned down to get a closer look.
But it wasn’t a log.
It was a warlock.
He didn’t look much older than a novice. His shorts glowed white in the moonlight, which meant he belonged to White Water. He was part of Lily’s tribe.
Something else caught Evelina’s eye—a mark on the heel of his bare foot. It appeared to be some kind of tattoo. But he looked far too young to be a mentor. It looked like a branch or a hand.
It was difficult to see in the dark. But it didn’t look like any Water Witch symbol she’d ever seen. Oceana’s symbol was a wave, White Water three bubbles, Lake of the Isles three rings, like the splash of a stone hitting water, and the Swamp Hags a cattail.
Evelina put two fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse, then checked his wrist to be certain.
Nothing.
A shiver ran up her back.
“He’s dead.”
“Are you sure?” Abby sounded horrified. “I thought we had nine lives or something. Wow! The poor thing must have been on his last one.”
“Positive.”
Tally circled the body as though examining the archaeological dig of some ancient tomb. “It very well might have been his last life. Witches don’t show age like mortals.”
“Just as well,” Evelina came to her feet. “I don’t think I’d look so hot at nine hundred.”
“Possibly older.” Tally came to a halt, supposedly to impress her point. “Some mortals have lived to be as old as one hundred and twenty.”
“Do you hear that?” Abby lifted her head like a deer opening day. “Someone’s coming!”
Evelina’s pulse rushed. “We can’t be found here!” She didn’t know what the penalty was for spying on a warlock council meeting, but she’d rather not find out. “Run!”
She’d only gone a few strides, when someone reached out and grabbed her by the arm.
Her heart shot to her throat.
“Evelina Crimm, well, well, well!”
Her mouth went dry.
Wendell Barnes.
She jerked from his grasp.
What was he doing here?
He should have been locked away after peddling black magic spells that caused so many deaths.
He hadn’t changed much. He had the same auburn hair and preppy look—the same knowing smirk plastered over his face. He was wearing gold shorts, which meant he wasn’t just working with the Swamp Hags—he was one of them—a Swamp Hog, as the warlocks were called. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
Blood whooshed in her ears. “Nothing.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He grinned. “Surprised to see me?”
“Not really.” She drew herself up to look him in the eye. “People tend to end up dead wherever you are.”
“Sure you are.” He threw back his head and laughed. “Let’s just say…I have connections.”
Her mouth went dry. They must be very powerful, considering he was charged with peddling black market spells which led to murder. Frankie must be freaking out, since his sister was one of the victims.
“The Witches’ Council decided to give me a second chance—redemption and all of that. But first I must suffer and repent. I never could see the point of it, until now, of course.” He smiled an almost smile. “But now I understand. I’ve seen the error of my ways.”
It was difficult to believe a word he said. The Wendell she knew was as slippery as a snake. “Really?” she managed to croak.
“Turns out some evidence was inadmissible. Your friend Frankie Holler didn’t have permission from the Council to time skip. Turns out he was on an unsanctioned mission.” Wendell gave an evil chuckle. “My Time Keeper memories have been suspended indefinitely and I’ve been demoted to novice, that’s all.” He shrugged. “A little inconvenient. But any pro can handle a handicap. My powers have been erased. But it won’t take long to relearn them. I have the same potential I always did.”
Bile rose in her throat. That meant Wendell had gotten away with murder. It was too much to swallow. How could the Council let him off so easily? Didn’t they realize what a threat he posed?
“I’ll have to get even though,” he said, quietly and distinctly. “Nothing personal. You understand.”
Something twisted in her belly.
But she squared her shoulders, determined not to show fear. “Stay away from me and my friends. Or the next time I’ll make sure you don’t get off on a technicality.”
“Be careful who you threaten, little witch. My powers are greater than yours, even without time memories.”
“Says who?”
“My great lineage.”
“The only thing great is your ego!”
Wendell’s eyes narrowed. “Let me see…what was that spell. How did it go?”
Evelina took a step back, gazing around.
Why hadn’t Abby and Tally noticed she wasn’t with them yet?
Where were they?
“Ah yes!” Wendell swept both arms in the air. “That was it!”
CRACK!
A jagged bolt of lightning hit right between her feet.
Evelina gave a yelp, jumping back.
She slapped at her emerald tunic to put the sparks out, frantically searching her brain for a spell of her own.
“A little something my father taught me.” Wendell smirked. “Things like that stay with you forever.”
The thud of footsteps thundered toward them.
“You get my drift.” He pointed one long finger at her like a gun, then blew on it. “Gotta run.” He tore off down the vine strewn path, until the jungle swallowed him up.
The sound of ragged breath turned her around.
Expecting to see Abby and Tally, she opened her mouth to give them a piece of her mind.
She gasped to discover Frankie standing there. “Where is he?”
“That way.” She pointed down the path. He made to go, then halted when she said, “Hello, Evelina? How are you? Nice to see you. I hope you’re not hurt or anything?”
“Sorry.” He flashed a wry smile. “But I can’t involve you in this. Look, the best thing you can do is stay away from me.” His tone turned serious. “I can’t protect you right now.”
“You’re pretty full of yourself, Holler.” Evelina gave a derisive snort. “Who says I need protecting?”
He sliced a sideways glance at the scorched hem of her tunic.
“Okay, I still have some things to learn.” She flushed to the roots of her hair. “The magic isn’t quite there yet.”
He lifted one golden brow.
“I admit, I need some help now and then.” She spread both hands in a full body shrug. “But I don’t need a keeper.”
“That’s what I love about you.” He chuckled. “You never give up.”
“But trust me.” He walked slowly toward her—close enough to touch. “You don’t want to get involved in this.”
“You mean the novice.”
Frankie nodded. “He was murdered.”
“How do you know?”
“He had the mark of a Reef Hag on his heel.”
“Wow!” Evelina let out the breath she’d been holding in a gush. “So that’s what it was. What does it mean?”
“It means someone summoned her here to kill warlocks.”
Evelina trembled, remembering how close she’d come to the Reef Hag on the beach. “I didn’t see any wound on him.” She licked her dry lips. “How did she kill him?”
“It’s not like that,” Frankie said in a low husky voice. “There is no mark. A Reef Hag kills you from the inside out. She poisons your spirit—a slow and painful death. Most never find the mark until it’s too late.”
Evelina swallowed hard. “We need to do something.”
“You’re right.” He leaned closer.
Chapter Five
Evelina held her breath.
For a minute it looked as though Frankie might kiss her.
Instead, he said, “I’ll meet you at the fountain on Monday, after work—around five.” He squeezed her hand. “Gotta go.” He turned and raced off through the jungle.
It took her a moment to understand what he meant. She’d almost forgotten about the Wave Wire. Of course her brain never worked very well when Frankie was around.
What had it said? ‘Count the coins at Cutthroat Cove’, which was ridiculous, if not impossible. There were millions of coins in that fountain, even if they emptied it regularly. Everyone that walked by it must make a wish, or several. Wishes were endless. At least hers were.
Right now she wished it was Monday. But it wasn’t, and nothing could change that.
She had to find Abby and Tally.
They had to get back to camp before they were caught.
***
Evelina rolled out of the hammock with a groan.
Sunlight streamed through the palms in beams of red and gold. It stabbed at her eyes. Too many hours wasted laying awake thinking of Frankie.
She stumbled to the bar toward the coconuts they’d cracked opened the night before.