The Witch is Back

Chapter Twenty-Three




Hours had passed. I was still outside, but had no idea what I was doing there. The sun had long since gone down, and despite the warmth of the day, it was so cold that I couldn’t help but shiver. When I looked down I could see that I was only wearing my cute cotton black-and-white romper that read SMART GIRLS FINISH FIRST. It was my favorite pair of pajamas, but also my lightest, and wouldn’t keep me warm in the breezy night air.

Why was I out of bed? How had I gotten here?

I caught a flurry of movement off to my right, and took in a quick breath as I saw a figure move out from behind a tree and then take one slow step after another into the woods beyond the amphitheater. I couldn’t see who the person was, because, one, they were too far away, and two, whoever it was had on a cloak of some sort. It was dark and completely covered the figure from head to toe. There wasn’t even a hint as to whether the person was male or female.

I went to shout at the late-night walker, but then stopped myself at the last minute and looked back at the cabin looming behind me. There wasn’t a single light on in any of the bedrooms and I didn’t want to wake the whole place up. The consequences of being in the woods at night had been made clear to all of us, and the secret plans of the mystery person had piqued my interest. I wanted to find out what the person was doing running around campus at night.

With one last glance over my shoulder at safety, I ran after the person. My bare feet grew dirty with every step and I cringed as dust and rocks hit the backs of my legs.

If only I’d remembered to put on shoes before going for a walk in the middle of the night . . .


The campus was eerily silent. Even the sound of my feet pitter-pattering across the forest floor came out like a distant whisper. I kept the dark figure within eyesight, but left enough distance between us that I wouldn’t be caught. The farther we disappeared into the woods, the more concerned I grew over what might be at the end of this game of follow the leader.

Not only that, but this scenario was beginning to look an awful lot like a plot out of a horror movie. Cute girl runs through the woods alone with only her thin pajamas on. Then she trips on a root that just happens to be sticking out of the ground. . . .

At that precise moment, my steps faltered, but I was able to stay on my feet.

Seriously?

Still, I followed the hooded figure deeper and deeper into the forest. We’d long since passed the area dedicated to our casting sessions and were fully in the part that the counselors had warned us not to venture to. Breaking the rules didn’t bother me. Being forced to leave my boyfriend with Brooklyn for the summer, because I broke camp rules, well, that was enough to make me think twice about what I was doing.

I realized a little too late that the person ahead of me had begun to slow, and I had to stop abruptly to keep from slamming right into them. The hood of the figure moved slowly from side to side as it tried to decide which way to go, before stepping into a clearing.

Creeping forward, I tried my best not to make any noise. Other sounds filled the night now. Whispers that I hadn’t heard before, which seemed to have only started when we were far enough away from the cabin that we couldn’t call out for help, echoed through the trees. At first I couldn’t figure out exactly where they were coming from or how many voices there even were. They filled my head from every direction, leaving me turning in circles as I attempted to find their source. Then, as if all the other sounds had been sucked out of the forest at once, I could hear the voices coming distinctly from the direction of the clearing in front of me.

So, I followed them.

Slipping behind a large tree, I waited as long as I could before making a move. One . . . two . . . three . . . four. It felt like an eternity had gone by when I finally peeked out from behind the tree. When I did, I fought the urge to hide again. Because there stood three cloaked figures, gathered around a ball of light.

They were chanting something over and over again. Words to a spell that I didn’t recognize. After a few repetitions, I was finally able to understand what they were saying.

“Discubus susperion violane spurniface,” they chanted in unison. “Discubus susperion violane spurniface. Discubus susperion violane spurniface.”

What does that even mean?

Two of the three had their backs turned to me, but the third was directly in my sight. Only, the hood was so large that it covered most of the person’s face and I was still too far away to see any details. I could tell that the person was holding something in their hand, though. It shimmered in the limited lighting, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. If I knew that, then maybe I’d be able to figure out what they were casting.

I had to get closer.

I dashed from tree to tree in a zigzagging pattern until I was less than ten feet away. While they were still in the middle of their chanting, I dared a look around the tree again.

Red stone shone like fresh blood against caramel-colored skin. The metal twined its way around the ruby, like it was hugging its child protectively. I sucked in my breath involuntarily, looking down at the empty space on my finger where a ring used to sit.

Why did these people have Bridget’s ring? My ring?

My ears began to echo with the sounds of my own heart beating. If the chanting stopped, I was sure the strangers would hear it, too. I searched my mind to figure out what to do next.

First things first: I had to get my ring back.

Popping my head back out, I studied all three of the figures and realized frustratingly that there was nothing on them to give me any clue as to who they were. And without knowing that, it wouldn’t be a smart idea for me to rush them. Not until I had one of my most prized possessions back on my finger where it belonged at least.

I was in the middle of trying to formulate another plan when I got the break I’d been waiting for. Slowly, the hood of one of the figures facing me began to move. The person began to lift their head and I was moments away from seeing their face. I held my breath as more and more skin was revealed to me, first showing a naked neck and then an angular chin, a set of full lips and then a perfectly shaped nose.

My head was screaming for the person to look up all the way. And finally she did.



My eyes flew open and suddenly I was back in my room. The sun had just begun to come up over the horizon, and the growing light was forcing shadows out of every corner of our shared space. This did nothing to calm my nerves, though.

Abby.

The dream had been so vivid.

Remembering the way she’d looked while peering out from under the hood of her dark cloak, I quickly turned over to her side of the room. I expected to find her asleep in bed, tucked in and dreaming peacefully.

Instead, the bed was empty.

Was it possible it wasn’t a dream after all? That I really had been out wandering the woods and just happened upon a group of witches chanting while holding the ring that had once been Bridget’s?

My ring!

I pulled my hand out from underneath the warmth of the covers and sighed with relief to see that it was still on my finger, beautiful as ever. Even in the semidarkness it shined.

This wasn’t enough to convince me that what I’d dreamed hadn’t really happened. I’d been part of enough crazy stuff to know that just about anything was possible, especially when it came to other witches. And Abby wasn’t in her bed now, which was suspect in itself.

I threw back my covers and pulled my legs toward my body until my feet were exposed. Reaching down hesitantly, I grabbed ahold of one of my heels and brought it right up to my face.

It was clean.

Well, relatively clean, anyway. No dirt decorated my legs like it would have if the dream were real, and the pads of my feet were a rosy pinky color. My toenails were as flawless as the night I’d painted them a glittery red. Everything was as it should be. Not a thing out of place. Nothing missing.

Except for Abby.

Just as I thought it, she crept back into the room. I watched her from my bed as she quietly snuck in and took extra care not to let the lock click too loudly when she closed the door behind her. When we were once again locked in, Abby turned around and proceeded toward her section of the room.

“Where were you?” I whispered to her in the dark.

She jumped as she heard my voice and whipped around to face me.

“Geez, you scared the crap out of me!” she said out loud.

I placed my finger to my lips and motioned over to Colette who promptly turned over onto her stomach but remained asleep. Abby looked at our roommate and put her hand over her mouth guiltily. I let my legs drop down over the side of the bed and felt it begin to lower. As soon as I was close enough to the ground, I hopped off and walked over to where Abby was still standing.

“Where are you coming from?” I asked. I didn’t want her to think I was interrogating her, especially since there was no proof that she’d done anything other than show up in one of my dreams. But still, coming in at 6:30 a.m. was kind of a sketch-ball move. Before we’d gone to camp, I’d promised Asher I’d look out for her, and this was definitely worth checking into.

I expected her to avoid the question or come up with some elaborate story, but she just held up her hand. “Brushing my teeth,” she answered. She popped the toothbrush back into her mouth and wrapped one arm across her stomach, letting the other rest lazily on top of it.


“Oh, er, I mean, what are you doing up so early?” I said, trying to save face and switch up my tactics at the same time.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said, and then walked over to her dresser and laid the toothbrush on its surface. “Why are you awake?” She said it easily, but it felt like she was turning the tables on me now.

I blinked. “Bizarro dreams,” I answered, watching the reaction on her face for any clues.

“More Bridget dreams?” Abby asked with interest, sitting down on her bed.

I was surprised to hear her bring up Bridget, but also knew that Asher had filled her in on all the dreams I’d had about my dead relatives in the past. I hadn’t told anyone yet about the ones involving the other prisoners who had been jailed along with Bridget—the two Sarahs and Tituba. Mostly because I wasn’t sure whether it was important. But also because the last time I’d had regular dreams concerning the witch trials, we’d been attacked by the Parrishables. Given people’s reaction to our last Cleri midnight meet-up and the botched tracking spell, I thought it best to keep these things to myself until I was sure there was something to worry about.

“This dream was different,” I said, honestly. “You were in it.”

Abby looked genuinely surprised to hear this. “Me? What was I doing?”

How much should I tell her? I didn’t want to divulge everything, just in case I was supposed to be taking some sort of meaning from it. After all, in the dream, Abby had been performing some kind of secret spell on me. Then again, I did want to see if anything I described would jog her memory. Maybe if she’d had the same dream, the two of us could piece together what was going on.

I decided to pull out some of the highlights instead.

“Well, you were outside. It was the middle of the night and you started to walk through the woods,” I said. I looked for any sign that she recognized what I was describing. Her face didn’t change at all as she listened. I continued with the story. “So, you were walking through the woods and I was following you. You know, to see where you were going. And you were wearing this hooded cloak. Anyway, then you stopped and you were doing a spell.”

“What spell was I doing?” she asked when I paused.

“That’s the thing . . . I didn’t recognize it,” I said carefully.

“Do you remember the words? Maybe I can help figure them out,” Abby said.

Discubus susperion violane spurniface.

Abby’s sudden interest in knowing the spell made me admittedly suspicious. But what I couldn’t decide was whether she was curious because it was a dream about her or if it was because she had other motives? It was hard for me to say at this point.

Discubus susperion violane spurniface.

I placed my hand over my face and rubbed at it like I was frustrated, before reaching up to scratch my head. “I can’t remember,” I lied, deciding to keep that little fact to myself. “What do you think it means?”

Abby looked at me blankly and waited a beat or two before she answered.

“No clue. I’m not really good at deciphering dreams,” she said, walking over to her bed and grabbing a book.

“Oh,” I answered, watching her head back toward our bedroom door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at breakfast then?”

“Yep. See you.”

I stood there in the darkness for a few minutes, running the conversation over and over again in my head. I wanted answers, but I didn’t know whom I could trust. The Cleri were being weird about almost everything, and no way was I going to the counselors because, well, just because they were adults didn’t mean they weren’t capable of being evil. When I found no more answers than I’d had before, I quietly left our room and headed down the hallway to the girls’ bathroom to get ready for the day.

But before I got there, someone stepped out of the stairway and nearly ran right into me.

“Asher!” I said, surprised to see him on our floor.

His reaction mirrored mine, but then it changed to a slick grin.

“Well, doesn’t this bring back memories?” he said sexily, before leaning down and planting a kiss on my lips. I worried for about two seconds about whether I had killer morning breath, but then I let it go. Asher had kissed me in the morning before—plenty of times, actually—and besides, we’d been together now for over six months. An isolated case of bad breath wasn’t going to be a deal breaker.

I smiled and then kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his waist. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a white tank top and his hair was mussed as usual. The air between us grew electric and I began to wish that we didn’t have roommates. Forgetting for the moment that he’d recently pissed me off, I let myself fantasize about all the things I wanted to do to him and would let him to do me if we’d only been alone. Maybe there was an empty room, or closet, somewhere nearby that we could sneak off to.

“You do have the annoying habit of running into me at the worst times possible, Asher,” I said, trailing my finger down his chest slowly as I remembered the first time we’d “accidentally” run into each other. We’d been at the mall and Sascha, Jinx, Jasmine, and I had gone looking for Fallon who’d taken off after having a hissy fit. Asher had claimed the meeting had been an innocent coincidence, but later on, I’d found out that he’d planned the meeting. Still, it was the first time we’d really interacted and even with the horrible timing, I couldn’t ignore the heat between us.

“Annoying?” he asked, kissing me again, this time slipping his tongue against mine. “And how could there be a better time than right now?”

“Is there someplace we could go to be alone?” I asked.

As if on cue, a door opened up just a few feet away, and Brooklyn and Eve stepped out, chatting much too animatedly for such an early time of the morning. When they saw us, they abruptly shut up and walked the rest of the way in silence. As they neared the bathroom, they both turned their attention to us.

“Hey, Asher,” Brooklyn said sweetly.

“Nice to see you again,” Eve said, looking him up and down.

Hello, obvious?

“I’m right here,” I said, annoyed that the dirty duo were once again getting in the way of Asher and my relationship.

Eve narrowed her eyes at me behind Asher’s back. “Why, yes. I suppose you are. I barely recognized you . . . standing on your own two feet and all,” she said, as insincerely as possible.

“Speaking of, how’s your neck doing?” Brooklyn asked, her voice sounding concerned, but her face completely blank.

“I’m alive,” I said between clenched teeth.

Asher looked at the other two girls before pulling me closer to him so our bodies were touching. “Did you two happen to see who did it?” he asked them suddenly.

Eve and Brooklyn looked at each other and then shrugged. “Nope. We were just glad we could be there to help,” Brooklyn said.

“Yeah. It’s horrible to think of what might have happened if we hadn’t come along,” Eve added.

Then the two disappeared into the bathroom, but not before Brooklyn glanced back at the door to her room and said, “It was nice seeing you, Asher.” I looked in the direction she’d been staring and then back at Asher who was still in his bed clothes and up at an unusually early hour for him.

Why was he up so early? And on this floor, too.


“Now where were we?” Asher asked, leaning down for another kiss.

“What are you doing up so early?” I asked instead, pulling myself out of his embrace completely and taking a step back so I could search his face for clues.

Asher closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he’d changed. The moment we’d been having before Brooklyn and Eve had shown up was over. And we were back to being on separate sides.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, less than psyched at the temperature change between us.

“There seems to be a lot of that going around,” I muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“Just that everyone’s acting totally weird right now,” I said.

“Well, sorry to disappoint you,” Asher said, crossing his arms angrily. “Again.”

Then, without saying good-bye, he turned and began to walk away from me.

“Why were you on our floor, Asher?” I asked.

I knew it was going too far and that I should’ve been trying to convince him to come back, talk this thing through instead. But I had to know the truth.

Finally, he spun around, his face twisted up in frustration. “You want to know why I was down here?” he asked me. “I was coming to see if you wanted to get breakfast. Maybe spend the morning together, just the two of us. You know, like you’ve been asking me to.”

I’d officially screwed up. Brooklyn and Eve had appeared, and once again I’d let them get to me. Now Asher was mad and I wasn’t sure how to make things right. Or if he’d even let me try.

“Asher,” I started, but I didn’t know how to finish the sentence, so I let it trail off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, sounding tired now. “I have stuff to do, anyway. I’ll just see you later, okay?”

But he didn’t wait for a response before taking off down the hallway, and before I could call his name again, he’d slipped around the corner and out of sight.