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Authors: Shirley Damsgaard

Tags: #Horror & Ghost Stories

The Trouble With Witches (34 page)

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
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The cordless phone was on the end table next to the couch. All I had to do was steal down the hall, reach around the corner, grab the phone, and make it back to my room.
Undetected.

I peeked out the door of my bedroom and listened. I didn't hear any activity in the kitchen. Slipping out the door, I skulked down the short hallway toward the main room. The cabin was silent.

I felt like a teenager sneaking out of the house, while I tiptoed across the tile floor. Two more steps and I'd be within snatching distance of the phone.

The shrill ringing had me skittering and sliding all the way back to my room. From my position, with my back plastered against the door, I heard Abby answer on the fifth ring.

"Ophelia, it's Rick," she called.

Fate was smiling on me.

Composing my face, I opened the door a crack and took the phone from Abby. "Thanks."

"Ophelia—"

"Got to talk to Rick," I said with a bogus grin while pointing to the phone in my hand. "Hi, Rick."

"I know the last few days have been hard," he said, "and I think it would be good for the three of you to get away from the lake for the evening. How about joining me in Brainerd for a pizza?"

I mouthed a silent thank-you.

"Gee, Rick, I'm tired, but let me find Abby and
Darci
. I'm sure they'll be happy to meet you. Hang on."

Flying down the hall, I found them in the kitchen. "Rick wants to take everyone out for pizza.
How about it?"

Darci
gave me a stony look and turned her eyes to Abby, who nodded in agreement.

"Yeah Rick, they'd love to come," I told him, and wrote down the directions to the pizza parlor.

After a quick good-bye, I handed the slip of paper to Abby. "Here are the directions. Rick will meet you in a half an hour, so you'd better get going."

Abby's eyebrows knitted together in a frown. "Aren't you coming?"

"No, I'm tired. The last few days have gotten the best of me," I said with wide-eyed innocence. "The cabin feels so much better, I think I can get a good night's sleep tonight."

Abby walked over to me and laid a hand on my forehead. "You're not running a fever, are you?"

I stepped back from her touch, afraid of what my clever grandmother might pick up. "No, I'm fine. You and
Darci
go and have a good time." I gestured toward my bedroom. "If you don't mind, I think I'll take a look at those journals."

"Good for you. It's time you started studying them," she said with a pat on my arm. A look of pride crossed her face. "Those journals contain the history of our family, Ophelia.
Every spell, every cure, what worked, what didn't.
I recommend you start with my mother's. It's on my nightstand."

Abby's pleasure that I'd finally read those old books was apparent. And here I was lying about it. How rotten did I feel?

I stole a glance at
Darci
. She leaned against the counter and watched me with a steely look in her eye.

She wasn't buying it, but I knew I could trust her to keep her promise. She cared about Abby as much as I did, and she wouldn't risk Abby's safety by spilling what we knew about Von Schuler.

After they left, I checked the time. Twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, a good hour for dinner, and twenty minutes to get back to the lake.
An hour and forty minutes.
I had just enough time if I hurried.

I heard each second tick by as I rushed to make my preparations. After a purifying bath in sea salt, I grabbed my great-grandmother's journal and flipped through the worn pages, looking for the correct runes to carve on the lodestone to create the
bindrune
. They had to be exactly right or the spell wouldn't work. Finally, I found three that, when placed in a design, would not only be pleasing to the eye, but would give me the most protection.

One problem—how to carve them on the stone?

Hadn't thought that far ahead, had you, Jensen?

I ran to the kitchen, pulled out drawers, and dug through them until I found something sharp enough to mark the stone. My fingers hit on a piece of metal.

A nail.
The pointy tip would be sharp enough to scratch the runes into the stone.

I snatched the nail and began to swiftly carve the symbols on the lodestone.

Careful, Jensen, careful. The symbols must be made correctly.

Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on making calm, deliberate strokes, and while I did, visualized a shield of energy reaching out from the lodestone to surround me.
To protect me.

Twenty minutes later and I was finished. My eyes flew to the clock. How much time did I have before Abby and
Darci
returned?

Quickly, I added up the elapsed time in my head.
Yes
. I pumped my fist.
Thirty minutes to spare
.
More than enough time to change and get down to the lake.

Finally, dressed in jeans and T-shirt, I was on the dock, hooking up the motor to the boat. My windbreaker lay in the bottom of the boat, and my lodestone, with the
bindrune
written on it, rested safely in the left pocket of my jeans. Even now, I could feel its energy circling around me. A flashlight and backpack were also in the boat.

The moon had been waxing for the last four days, and it gave enough light for me to see the opposite shore. I glanced over my shoulder as I prepared to cast off, and then I saw the light.

The hair on my arm stood up while I watched it bob and weave as it had four nights ago.

The ghost lights were back.

I fought down the fear creeping up from deep inside me. I thought about
Tink
, about Abby, about
Darci
. All could be at risk. Something, or someone, unknown prowled around the woods across the lake, and I couldn't fight it if I didn't know what it was. I had to go.

Turning back to my task, I cast off the rope and stepped to the back of the boat. I took one last look at our cabin and almost fell overboard when two shapes stepped out of the shadows.

"You weren't planning on leaving without us, were you, Ophelia?" my stubborn grandmother asked.

 

Chapter Thirty

 

I grabbed one of the pilings and scowled at
Darci
in the darkness. "
Darci
, you promised—"

"
Darci
didn't talk, Ophelia," Abby cut in as she and
Darci
made their way down to the fishing boat. "Do you think I didn't know you were up to something?
The lodestone, the hustling back to your room?
But I didn't think you'd be foolish enough to attempt going to the cabin by yourself."

In the dim light of the moon, I felt the weight of Abby's stare.

"When Rick mentioned at the restaurant that you'd learned of the magician's relationship to Juliet," she continued, "all the pieces fell together. I insisted
Darci
and I leave immediately. And then when you weren't in the cabin…"
Her
voiced trailed off. "By the way, you left the journal lying on the counter."

I exhaled a long breath. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I told you I'm going night fishing?"

"No," Abby replied tersely.

I quickly filled her in on what had happened that afternoon in Brainerd.

"Ophelia Jensen," she said while she paced the length of the dock, "of all the foolish tricks—attempting to take on whatever is in those woods by
yourself
."

"Abby, I'm prepared." I explained to her about the lodestone and the
bindrune
.

Mollified, she stopped her pacing and stood on the dock near the boat. "It's still not wise to go alone. I'm going with you."

Darci
, who'd remained silent while Abby scolded me, stepped forward. "I'm going, too."

Abby and I exchanged looks in the moonlight. Abby gave a small nod.

This secret mission of mine was turning into quite a party.

I looked both of them over.
Darci
wore the shorts she'd worn earlier in the day, and Abby had on one of her long skirts. "I give up—you both can go with me, but you can't go dressed like that."

Abby threw an arm around
Darci's
shoulders and led her back to the steps leading to the cabin. "Let's go change. I expect you to still be here when we get back," she called over her shoulder.

"I will. Oh, and
Darci
, don't try and make a fashion statement. Jeans and tennis shoes will work," I said as they climbed the steps.

Ten minutes later they had returned and we were on our way across the lake. Both had changed into jeans and sensible shoes.
Darci
had shoved her blond hair under a baseball cap, and she carried a light jacket like mine. Abby held a sweater, my backpack, and a flashlight in her arms. The scent of lemon and something else hung around them.

Keeping my hand on the tiller, I leaned forward and sniffed. "Jeez, did you guys have garlic pizza, or what?" I wrinkled my nose.

"No."
Darci
reached in her pocket and drew out a small clove of garlic. Its scent filled the small boat.

"I don't believe this," I said in exasperation. "We're not hunting vampires,
Darci
."

Abby touched my knee lightly. "I gave the garlic to
Darci
. I have one for you, too." She handed me a clove. "There's a reason that the old tales mention garlic. It absorbs negative energy."

Without arguing, I stuck the clove in my pocket, next to the lodestone.

The closer we got to shore, the more I felt the apprehension building inside me. At home, Abby hiked through the woods all the time, but these woods were unfamiliar to her. When I'd stumbled onto the clearing, it had been full daylight and the cabin still hung in shadows. What would it be like in the middle of the night? What if Abby tripped and broke a bone? Was it too late to turn around?

Yes. My jaw clenched. Abby and
Darci
were determined to find out about the cabin, and there was nothing I could do to talk them out of it.

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
8.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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