Witch & Curse (42 page)

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Authors: Nancy Holder,Debbie Viguié

BOOK: Witch & Curse
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She shook her head slowly as if to silence Holly's unspoken questions. Then she raised her hand and beckoned Holly to follow. Holly passed with her through the wall of the cell and then followed her for what seemed ages through twisting corridors lit only by sporadic torches.

Neither the woman's nor Holly's feet made any sound against the stone floors, and the silence unnerved her. At last Holly strained, trying to clear her throat, to make some sound to shatter the silence that overwhelmed her. Her throat felt constricted and she felt the fear growing in her. She had to speak, to say something. . . .

The woman turned and laid a pale finger against her ruby lips. Again she shook her head and slowly pointed toward a dark alcove in the wall. Holly could see nothing in the blackness and finally shook her head in frustration. The woman glided back toward her and gestured for Holly to close her eyes. When she did, the woman's fingers pressed gently on her eyelids.

When her touch was gone, Holly opened her eyes. Her vision was sharper, clearer, and within the alcove she saw two huge beasts staring with unblinking eyes right at her. She jerked backward, but the woman's hand was on her arm, steadying her. She pointed to the animals, then to her own eyes, and shook her head no.

Somehow the beasts couldn't see them, but what Holly saw of them terrified her. Both were as big as lions, though they had the general shape of dogs. Their eyes glowed red and their brown-black fur stood up all over their bodies coarse and unyielding as spines. Their fangs were three inches long and saliva dripped in a steady flow from their open mouths.
Hellhounds
, Holly thought as she shuddered.
They can't see me, but they might be able to hear me
.

The woman turned and began to move on, and Holly hurried to follow behind. At long last they passed into a room where the woman stopped. She turned slowly to Holly and moved her arm, as if displaying the room to her. Holly gazed about her, her newfound sight seeing everything in excruciating detail.

Bottles of strange-looking liquids lined musty shelves. Still more bottles and flasks littered each of six huge work tables. Ancient manuscripts written in half a dozen different languages lay open everywhere. In
the middle of one table a tall pointed hat with stars on it sat in a prominent place.

She felt a smile break out on her face. It looked just like the hat Mickey wore as the Sorcerer's Apprentice. She strode forward to touch the hat, trying to hold in her laughter. Her fingers were an inch from it when the woman clasped her wrist hard.

Holly bit back a startled exclamation of pain as she looked at the other woman. A warning shone in her eyes as she shook her head fiercely. Puzzled, Holly turned back to look at the hat. The stars on it were suddenly alive, glowing and twisting about on the hat in a crazy kaleidoscope. Heat was pouring from its surface and Holly pulled her hand back quickly.

She stared in wonder as the hat slowly returned to the inanimate object it had been before.
What would have happened if I had actually touched it?
She could feel the power emanating from it now; she had been too amused by it earlier to notice. The woman half smiled at her before extending her hand toward one of the walls.

Holly followed her gaze to a weathered and water-stained hanging. It looked to be ancient parchment, or maybe it was leather, stippled with faded gray shapes and letters.

It's a map
.

Excitement rippled through her.

She's trying to tell me where Jer is!

She scanned it; all the words were in Latin, and she didn't recognize the lay of the land at all. Frantic, she scrutinized the shapes and cursed her geography teacher for being so boring that Holly had slept through every class.

There!

There was a small island with an X over the top of it. She tapped it with her finger and glanced questioningly at the other woman as she glided over.

The apparition dipped her head in acknowledgment. Holly turned back to the map, searching desperately for something that she recognized. Another island, much larger, seemed to be close by; the shape of it tickled something in Holly's memory.

England! It has to be
.

Triumphant, she turned back to the other woman, only to find her staring toward the wall opposite with a look of fear on her face.

Someone's coming. I can sense it too
.

On the table, the hat began to glow. . . .

Her fear palpable, the woman waved her hand above her head, and everything turned black. Then someone burst into the room, bellowing, “Sasha!”

Holly screamed and bolted upright.

Amanda burst into her room, eyes wild, hair
sticking out in all directions. She grabbed Holly by the shoulders and shook her.

“Holly, are you all right?”

Holly managed to nod, composing herself, wiping tears from her eyes, swallowing around the tightness in her throat. Unable to speak, she motioned for a glass of water, and Amanda ran out of the room. Amanda was back in seconds with a Dixie cup from the bathroom. Holly downed the water gratefully, her throat finally loosening.

Finished with the water, Holly looked up at Amanda to tell her about her dream and strangled back a gasp. Amanda's face seemed huge to her. She could see every blemish in her cousin's skin, could clearly distinguish every strand of hair. She blinked fiercely, willing the enhanced sight away.

It remained. She groaned and sank back onto her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut.

“What is it?” Amanda asked, quieter now.

“I had a dream. There was a woman. Someone . . . a relative, I think.”

Amanda sounded concerned. “Isabeau?”

Holly shook her head. “No. I don't know who she was. She took me to this room where there was an old map. I found this island on it and it was close to England.”

Holly risked opening her eyes a bit. Amanda's expression was one of puzzlement.

“Wait right here,” she murmured getting up again.

“Gladly,” Holly answered, closing her eyes again. She felt sick and queasy, so disoriented that it was as if the bed were rocking. Almost unconsciously she reached for Bast, who rose from her haunches at the foot of the bed and sauntered toward her mistress.

Amanda was gone for several minutes. Holly began to drift. Bast slipped herself under Holly's arm and began to purr.

Holly felt a little better, and she murmured, “Thank you, sweet kitty.”

Bast nuzzled her and pressed her nose to Holly's cheek.

“Sorry,” Amanda apologized as she returned and eased back down on the bed.

“Where are Tante Cecile and Silvana?” Holly asked.

“They went back to their place,” Amanda said. “Tante Cecile wanted to check their wards.”

“Your dad?”

“Still sleeping,” Amanda told her. “Or passed out. I don't know what the difference is when you're drunk.” She sounded sad and bitter. Then she brightened. “Meanwhile. Geography. I found an old atlas I
got in junior high. Who'd have guessed I'd ever use it?”

“Tell me about it,” Holly replied, warily opening one eye.

She could see the texture of the paper as Amanda shoved the atlas under her nose. She groaned and tried to focus on the pictures. There was England.

“Do you see it? The island you saw?”

“No,” Holly confessed, knowing she couldn't blame it on the image being too small. “It was right there, though,” she said, pointing to where she remembered.

Amanda closed the book. “Holly, it was just a dream.”

“No, it wasn't.”

“Okay, suppose it wasn't. You said it was an old map. Maybe the island's not there anymore.”

Holly frowned, bemused. “Are you saying it sunk or something? Like Atlantis?”

Amanda shrugged. “Could be. If it's magical.”

Holly opened the book back up, her eyes barely slit open. She found the page again and stared hard at it.

“Maybe no one can see it,” she said slowly. “Maybe it's simply been forgotten.” She trained her acute visual strength on it, willing any hidden lands to be revealed to her.

“But . . . that makes it disappear off a map? That's unlikely.”

“ ‘Occult' means ‘hidden,' ” Holly reminded her.

Bast kneaded her arm, and Holly yawned as her eyelids drifted closed. She could feel sleep tugging at her; she didn't have the strength to resist any longer.

As she fell asleep, she wasn't even aware of Amanda leaving.

Morning.

And no more dreams.

Bast had wandered off, and Holly had gotten up. Now, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, squinting to avoid staring at her own pores, Holly knew what she had to do. She pulled her hair back and fastened it in place with a silver Celtic barrette and left the bathroom. She walked downstairs, rehearsing what she was going to say to Amanda.

Downstairs she found her cousin hunched over a bowl of Rice Krispies. Amanda glanced up at her.

“You slept a long time,” Amanda said. “I warded my dad and checked all the house's wards.” Her gaze traveled to the spot where, upstairs, her father's bedroom was located.

Holly grabbed a bowl and joined her at the table.

“I have this weird eyesight thing going,” she told Amanda. “Like I'm seeing everything super close up. It's not fun.”

“We'll work a spell,” Amanda ventured.

“After I eat something,” Holly replied. “I feel pretty nauseated.”

“Have any more dreams last night?”

“No,” Holly admitted. She poured in milk, stared at the bowl, and pushed it away. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep down a thing. “But I've been thinking about the one I did have.”

Something in her tone must have alerted Amanda, because the other girl stopped and stared at her suspiciously. “Why do I think that I'm not going to like this?”

Holly folded her hands on the table. “Amanda, I'm going to go find Jer.”

Amanda picked up her glass of orange juice and drank it down slowly. When she had drained the glass she put it down with a solid thud on the table. She locked eyes with Holly, who squinted to avoid seeing the blood vessels in her cousin's eyes.

Amanda spoke in a calm, firm voice. “Absolutely not.”

“What?”

“Michael could attack again at any moment and we have to be prepared, which means we can't scatter to the four winds.”

Holly took a deep breath. “I have to find him. He's
alive somewhere and I have to go to him.”

Amanda did not relent. “Is that you talking or Isabeau?”

“It's me,” Holly said, her temper beginning to flare. “Jer helped save us from his father before and he can help us again.”

“So, this is an altruistic gesture,” Amanda said sarcastically. “Nicole's already missing, and you're going to go save Michael Deveraux's son, for the good of the coven, the fight against evil.”

“Absolutely.” Holly nodded.

“Liar.”

The word hung in the air between them. Holly felt her cheeks flame even hotter. She didn't know which made her angrier, the accusation or the fact that it was true. She stood up slowly, feeling her fingertips begin to tingle with electricity.

“I am going and I don't need your permission.” She turned to go.

Amanda leaped to her feet.

“Holly, have you ever stopped to think that Michael might be deliberately doing this to divide us? We're weak without Nicole. If you go, you'll make us weaker. For all we know Jer is dead. How could he have survived the Black Fire? We both saw it burning him.”

Holly slammed her fist down on the table, her desperation getting the best of her. “And whose fault is that? We were fine until you pulled me away from him!”

“Are you insane?” Amanda asked, starting to shout. “The building was falling around us; the fire was devouring everything. What was I supposed to do, leave you behind?”

Tears slid down Holly's cheeks. “We would have been fine together, the magic we share—”

“It's the magic that Isabeau and Jean share,” Amanda cut her off. “It has nothing to do with the two of you. You're just the unwitting hosts. You were that night, and that's what they want again. To use you, both of you, in their own little weird twisted dance.”

Holly's hand flexed and tiny sparks danced along her fingertips. “Jer and I have our own magic that has nothing to do with them.”

“Really,” Amanda flung at her. “Or is it just that you've got the hots for a Deveraux?”

“But I dreamed—”

“Sometimes dreams are just dreams!” Amanda yelled. “Not every dream you have means something! It's just because you freakin' want him, Holly! Get a clue!”

“Oh, yeah, then how come I have Superman's vision now?”

There was a bewildered pause from Amanda. Reluctantly she said, “Okay. That I don't know.”

Holly took a deep breath. “In my dream, the woman touched my eyes and I could see everything sharper, clearer. It's like I can see everything. And I can ‘see' that I'm supposed to go find him.” She picked up the cereal box and thrust it into Amanda's arms. “Go over there,” she ordered her cousin.

Amanda studied her for a moment. Then she strode across the kitchen. She held the box up toward Holly. “Read the ingredients for me.”

Holly focused in on the box and began to read off the ingredients. “Rice, sugar, salt, high fructose corn syrup, malt flavoring.”

Slowly Amanda walked back to the table and set the box of cereal back down. She looked at Holly's eyes; Holly tried hard not to squint. Then she sighed and sat back down at the table. “What the hell is malt flavoring?”

Holly shrugged. “How should I know? At least you can see I'm not lying.”

Amanda clearly wanted to avoid that statement. “Regardless, Holly, I don't want you going off after Jer right now. Be patient. We'll work something out together.”

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