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Sword Play Page 3
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Page 3
“From an old phone book. But the info could be outdated, so I have to make some more calls.”
“I wonder what the fourth charm will be.”
“We’ll know soon.”
I gazed at him, full of gratitude and so much more. Now we had charms of a cat, a house, and a fish. Once we found the fourth charm, we’d have all the puzzle pieces. But would these old clues be enough to reveal the secret location of the missing remedy book? Could a book still be intact after over a hundred years? It had to be. It was the only hope for Nona.
“You’re frowning,” Dominic said quietly.
“I’m just worried about Nona. And I have to leave so I won’t be here for her.”
“I will be.”
“But for how long? You’ll find a better job when you finish learning how to be a horse shoer.”
“A farrier,” he corrected.
“Whatever. You’re too smart to just do handyman work and you’ll move on.”
“Not until Nona is well. Promise.”
His tone was so sincere my heart ached. Staring into his blue eyes was like diving into an unfathomable ocean. I could hardly think and forgot how to breathe. Sinking deep, down, down …
Remember Josh, I told myself. Sweet honest Josh who would never, ever cheat on you. Your boyfriend.
Sanity returned, accompanied by shame and guilt.
There was a rumbling in the distance and I saw my mother’s car turning in at the gate. “I have to go,” I said quickly.
“Can I help you with your suitcase?” Dominic offered.
But I shook my head firmly. “I can manage.”
“If you ever need anything—anything at all—just ask.”
“I’ll remember that.” I slipped the address back in the envelope and slipped it in my pocket. “Let me know what else you learn. Nona is counting on us to figure this out.”
“We will.” He paused and added, “Partner.”
“Yeah … partners.”
We stepped apart as my mother’s car came to a stop in front of the house.
“And Sabine?” he called out softly.
“What?”
“I’ll miss you.” Then he turned and walked away.
A goblin, a skeleton, and two tiny Ewoks held out bags and chanted “Trick or Treat!”
Oh, joy! I’d traded Nona’s wonderful All Hallow’s party for door duty with miniature candy grabbers.
Elegant pumpkin lanterns glowed along the paved pathway to the porch where mechanical witches whirled overhead on glowing broomsticks. An interior decorator had transformed the house with lacy cobwebs and tasteful porcelain Halloween figurines. My family was famous throughout the neighborhood for having the best decorations and designer goodie bags.
My father usually manned the door in a Dracula or Frankenstein costume. He would joke that a monster costume was more comfortable than his business suits. He didn’t have time for joking these days, but he had planned to stay home Halloween night—until at the last minute his assistant called. With apologies, he’d rushed off for an important meeting.
Mom was committed to chaperoning the masquerade party for my sisters’ dance class, and my sisters were decked out in wicked costumes. I had planned to go along, too, so I could be with my sisters. But now someone had to stay behind.
Guess who?
As I handed out goodie bags (decorative bags crammed with giant candy bars and toy surprises), I wistfully thought of Sheridan Valley.
Nona’s party would start soon.
Her farm was too rural for trick-or-treaters, but it was spookily perfect for an All Hallows party.
Guests would be greeted by carved candle-lit pumpkins glowing from the windows and Mr. and Mrs. Scarecrow waving from their cozy perch on the porch rail. I’d helped make the scarecrow couple, collecting straw from the barn and stuffing it into an old dress of Nona’s and a pair of Grady’s overalls. Grady was Nona’s poker pal and he’d joked about the special dish he was bringing to the All Hallows party.” I call it haunted chili because it has a second life.”
Nona’s friend Velvet was bringing desserts from her chocolate/New Age shop. After everyone filled up on sinfully delicious truffles and candy apples, Velvet and Nona would give tarot readings. I wasn’t skilled in the art of tarot, but Velvet had given me a book on palm reading and I’d planned to try it out at the party.
I glanced at the phone, tempted to call and see how things were going … but resisted. It was better to make a clean break.
Another doorbell chime.
Dutifully, I rose from the couch and went to the door.
“Treat-Treat!” a tiny faery chirped, waving a wand in her chubby toddler fingers. Her beaming mother chuckled and held out a cloth sack.
I knelt down, grinned at the cute little girl, then plopped in a goodie bag. Mother and faery thanked me, then scampered off to the next house. Shutting the door, I settled back on the couch to watch reruns of Bewitched on cable.
Samantha’s mother was just about to cast a spell on Darren when the doorbell chimed again. A huge group screamed “trick or treat” and eager hands waved pillowcases, hollowed plastic pumpkins, and plastic grocery bags. By the time I got back, the show was over. I clicked off the TV just as the chimes rang out again.
“What is this? Grand Center Halloween?” I muttered, heading for the door.
The Three Musketeers stood on the doorstep. Two short swashbucklers and the third was an adult who towered at least a foot over me; clearly a father getting into the fun of the evening. The little kids, a boy and girl, waved plastic swords, while their father carried a rounded-tip saber. I had one just like it when I took fencing classes.
In fact, the adult looked familiar. He was all sharp angles and skinny, with tight, brown curly hair, a prominent curved nose, and a goatee.
“Mr. Landreth!” I exclaimed, bumping into the tray and knocking several bags to the floor. I stared in shock at my ex-fencing teacher. “Is it really you?”
“Have we met?” He sounded puzzled, then looked closer. Surprise lit up his face. “Sabine? My goodness, it is you. But I thought you moved away.”
“I just moved back.”
“That’s wonderful!” He tucked his foil at his side. “It’s great to see you again.”
“You, too. And these must be your kids?”
“Timothy and Lismari. Or for tonight Aramis and Porthos,” he added, fondly patting their heads.
“I’m Aramis,” the little girl said proudly. “The bestest musky-teer.”
“I’m the bravest, Porthos,” her brother put in.
“And I’m Sabine,” I told them with a smile.
“Milady Sabine?” Little Aramis asked.
“Huh?” I said.
Mr. Landreth glanced fondly at his daughter. “She means the villainess from the Three Muskateers movie. The lethally beautiful Milady Sabine de Winter.”
“She’s really bad and gets her head chopped off,” his son added with a wave of his plastic sword.
“Should I be afraid?” I joked.
My ex-teacher chuckled. “You’re safe, but I’m not sure about myself with these mini swashbucklers.”
“I can’t believe you’re a dad,” I told my ex-teacher as I handed each child a goodie bag. “You always seemed like a big kid yourself.”
“Guilty as charged. What better job than playing with swords? You were one of my most skilled students. I hated losing you.”
“Well … it was a difficult time.”
“None of it your fault,” he said firmly. “The whole school was struck by mass hysteria.”
“Except you,” I said gratefully. Mr. Landreth had been the only teacher who stuck up for me. I’d heard that he had a shouting match with the principal, calling him an idiot for blaming me for Kip’s death. My teacher even threatened to quit his job. Fortunately that didn’t happen.
“It’s so great you’re back.” Mr. Landreth smiled. “Don’t forget to sign up for my advanced class.”
> “I won’t be going to Arcadia High.”
“Oh? Too bad, although it’s understandable. Where will you go?”
“I’m not sure. Probably a private school.”
“I recommend Saint Marks. They have a solid fencing program. Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted.”
“Thanks,” I said, blushing. I wasn’t used to praise and wasn’t sure how to reply.
“I mean it, Sabine,” he added sincerely. “Have you kept up on your fencing?”
“No,” I admitted. I could have explained that Sheridan High didn’t offer fencing, but that was only part of the reason.
“You can’t be serious!” he exclaimed. “You need to get back in—”
“Daddy, we wanna go to more houses,” Lismari interrupted, tugging on his arm. “Come on, Dad,” Timothy added.
“Just a minute,” he told them. Then he gave me an earnest look. “Sabine, you can’t neglect your skills. We have to talk about this more.”
“I’m not that interested in fencing.”
“I don’t believe it. You had a real passion for the sport. I know that upsetting things happened at Arcadia, and I’m ashamed at the behavior of some of my colleagues and your teammates. If you’d continued you could be competing nationally by now.”
I glanced down at the candy dish, shutting out memories. “I’ve moved on,” I told him simply. “It’s over.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” Mr. Landreth reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Take this, Sabine. In addition to working at Arcadia, I’m also teaching fencing classes at the Learning Express. I’ll give you private lessons.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Just think about it.”
I shook my head. “I’m through with fencing.”
“But fencing isn’t through with you.” He reached out, opened my palm, and placed his card inside. Then his kids pulled him away and the door shut with a soft thud.
Biting my lip, I looked down at the card in my hand. The tiny outline of a sword cut to my heart, and I realized Mr. Landreth was right. I had missed fencing. My fingers closed around the card, imagining the firm feel of a sword hilt in my hand. But I couldn’t get involved. Not after all the hurt and betrayal.
I shoved the card in my pocket and went back to the couch.
When the chimes rang a minute later, I handed out goodie bags to two fanged monsters, a princess, and a Spiderman with two missing front teeth. The little ghoulies kept coming for another hour. When the chimes finally quieted, I fell asleep on the couch.
I awoke to the sound of the door opening and a burst of voices.
Lifting my head, I saw my sisters laughing as they entered the house. They were both still in costume; Sherlock “Amy” Holmes with a pipe and magnifying glass and Ashley as a punk rocker with spiked purple hair. They were willowy and tall, looking much older than ten. This was the first year the twins didn’t wear matching costumes, which made me a little sad.
“You missed the most amazing party!” Ashley exclaimed, bouncing on the couch by me and waving her jeweled guitar in the air.
“Astute deduction, my dear Ashley,” Amy said, puffing on her toy pipe and blowing soap bubbles.
“I’m glad you had fun.” I sat up and yawned.
“Mom stayed behind to clean up and discuss some boring committee,” Amy told me. “Leanna’s dad dropped us off.”
She gestured behind her and that’s when I noticed a slightly overweight man with his arm around a slender girl in a cat costume. Short, dark curls framed Leanna’s large, night-black eyes.The young girl didn’t smile, but hung back shyly.
Or was it more than shyness? I caught an odd look exchanged between my sisters and sensed that something was going on I didn’t understand. I waited for them to introduce me, but instead they turned abruptly away.
“Thanks for the ride,” Ashley said to Leanna’s father.
“No problem,” he said.”Your mother does so much for the kids, it’s the least I can do.”
“Thanks and happy Halloween,” Amy said in a too-cheerful tone. Something was definitely going on. I felt shut out and hurt that my sisters were either too ashamed or embarrassed to introduce me.
Leanna’s hand was poised on the door as if she was eager to escape. Her gaze shifted in my direction, wide-eyed and tight-lipped. She looked terrified.
Of me?
I offered her a smile, hoping to show I was harmless. Only she didn’t smile back. And as I watched, a glowing shape appeared over her dark curls. Round, pale with dark eyes, a nose and mouth.
A disembodied head—Kip Hurst!
Kip winked at me, then floated like a ghostly balloon so he was face-to-face with Leanna. I wanted to shout at him to get away from her. Instead, my hand flew over my mouth or I would have gasped as Leanna’s human face and Kip’s ghostly face blended together like a double-exposed photograph.
They looked uncannily alike; similar dark eyes, rounded chins, and dark brown curly hair. And I realized something astonishing. No wonder Leanna’s name sounded familiar. She was the reason my mother hadn’t wanted me to attend my sisters’ tenth birthday party. My mother feared my presence would upset Leanna.
I knew why Kip had appeared—even more importantly—why he was hovering by Leanna. He was Leanna’s brother.
My hand slipped from my mouth and I cried out.
All heads turned toward me, including the disembodied one smirking with ghostly amusement.
“What is it, Sabine?” Amy asked anxiously.
“I—I … saw … a—”
My heart raced, but I realized I must look and sound like a crazy person. But I couldn’t exactly blurt out to Leanna, “I saw your brother’s head.” The last thing I needed was to start new rumors about my weird abilities. Besides, it was obvious no one else could see Kip.
“What is it, Sabine?” Amy persisted.
“Nothing.”
“But something startled you.”
Kip had his mouth open in a silent laugh—the dead jerk. How dare he think this was funny? Well I wouldn’t let him make a fool of me.
“I saw a spider,” I lied.
“Where?” Ashley cried out in alarm, looking around. “Is it near me?”
“No, it was crawling on my arm.”
“Ooh, gross. I hate spiders.”
“Me, too.” I nodded at Ashley. “They freak me out.”
“Since when?” Amy asked suspiciously. She knew me too well, and probably remembered the pet spider I’d named Charlie.
I brushed my hand across my forearm. “It’s gone now.”
And so was Kip. Thank goodness! If he showed up again, I’d have to have a serious girl-to-ghost talk and tell him firmly to stay away.
Before Amy could ask any more questions, I faked a yawn and said I was going to bed. Once in my room, I sank wearily on my bed.
What a night! Moving back home had been a mistake.
Like old Ebeneezer, I was being haunted by ghosts of the past. Not-so-dearly-departed Kip wanted my help, my ex-teacher wanted to help me, and my very presence had terrified a young girl. I hadn’t even been back a full day and the past was dragging me down like a heavy chain, tightening its grip around me.
I glanced over at my suitcase, still unpacked, and wished I had the courage to leave before it was too late.
Or was it already too late?
I could understand Leanna disliking me, but her terror was beyond normal. Why would she be afraid of me? Did she think I was into black magic or part of a satanic cult? Did she believe all the exaggerated rumors about me after her brother died? Did she think I caused his death?
Or maybe her fear was about something else entirely. Kip had asked me to help an unknown girl. Did he mean Leanna? Was she in some kind of trouble?
My sisters would know. I could count on Amy to tell me anything, but I wasn’t so sure about Ashley. Would she be more loyal to her friend or her big sister? I was afraid to find out.
Before movi
ng in with Nona, I’d been close to both of my sisters. More of a second mother since Mom was busy with society commitments and scheduling the twins’ singing and dancing lessons. Unfortunately, Mom never scheduled any “fun” time. So I took the girls to movies, played games, and had gossip sessions in our tree house. But when I moved out, we drifted apart.
Sighing, I sat up on my bed, catching my reflection in my dresser mirror. I still looked the same: green eyes, slim shape (not enough shape up top, much to my dismay), and long blond hair with a black streak. The black mark of a seer seemed darker and wider; a dividing line separating me from my family. And I longed for the easy friendship I used to have with my sisters.
Past Halloweens the three of us celebrated our traditional “Homemade Halloween.” After movies and popcorn, we’d gather in my room and exchange Halloween gifts. This secret exchange started a few years ago when I found a vintage copy of Nancy Drew, The Sign of the Twisted Candles, at a yard sale and gave it to Amy on Halloween. Ashley wanted to know if I had a gift for her, too.
Thinking fast, I went into my room, found a ball of rainbow colored yarn and quickly crocheted a chain bracelet. To my surprise, Ashley loved the simple bracelet. On the next Halloween, the girls wanted to exchange gifts again. I agreed but added a rule that only “homemade” gifts were allowed and it had to be a secret.
Of course this year, the tradition was over.
There was a tap at my door. It was Amy.
“So what made you gasp?” Amy demanded as she plopped beside me on the bed.
“I told you—I saw a spider.”
“Since when are you scared of little spiders?”
“It wasn’t little, it was huge.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“I swatted it away.”
Amy shook her dark head. “You’re lying.”
“How can you accuse me of such a thing?” I tried to sound outraged.
“I read enough mysteries to know how to tell when someone isn’t telling the truth. You didn’t meet my eyes and your voice got squeaky. I don’t have to be as good as Nancy Drew to know you’re hiding something.”
“Nancy could learn something from you,” I said with a rueful smile.
“I knew you wouldn’t panic over a spider. You looked like you saw a ghost.”