Believe the Magic Page 25

  “Winzey?” I called mentally, praying it could be heard. “Come back, Winzey. Get me out of here.”

  The buzzing was behind me, like a mosquito that was much too close. God I hope Meredith didn’t have a killer aim.

  “Honey, that bug is back.”

  Shut up, dear mom, don’t tell her. To Winzey I begged, “Please, please, tell me how to jump.”

  “Sam wanted to keep you safe. Unless Meredith reaches up and touches the gems just right, you must stay.”

  “No.” I wasn’t staying, even it I felt the rush of relief Sam had been behind this. “I’m not staying. I’m not.”

  The buzzing was gone. And Meredith was wearing the gems? Based on the manicured hands and extravagant jewelry, I had a feeling she wasn’t going to like them. I mean, let’s face it, they weren’t a string of pearls or anything.

  “Winzey? Sam?” My brain was digesting information slower than Meredith’s stomach was processing her seafood dinner.

  Sam? I wanted to pound on the windows of her eyes. Let me out, let me out!

  Where was he? Here? “Winzey? Where are you?”

  Is this what a madman feels like? Dementia? Rubber rooms couldn’t even keep me safe from myself.

  Deep breath. Breathe. You can do this. Think. Think. It’s all you can do.

  Okay. First things first.

  Sam had something to do with me being here. Or had he just found me?

  “Sam?”

  “Patience, my dear. You’re safe and sound in there. Now quit screaming like a banshee or you’ll have Bergestein’s men all over us.”

  “Where are you?” Sam was here. I would have jumped up and down if I could. Sam was here.

  Nothing. No answer. Sam wasn’t talking. The idea of being hauled from Meredith’s body by Bergestein wasn’t exactly on the top of my wish list.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “Guess I’ll just ride along with Miss Priss until you get me out of here. No problem. Fine.”

  Who was I fooling? It couldn’t have been fifteen minutes and I was bonkers.

  And powerless. Powerless. Me, who didn’t want magic to begin with, who would have thrown it all away several times.

  I take it back. I take it back!

  Meredith drove her flashy Lexus like she was the queen of the street.

  “Sam, is this punishment? Are you finding this totally laughable?”

  I knew I wouldn’t get a response. I knew I was alone. Deserted.

  Quentin wouldn’t have done this to me. Quentin wouldn’t leave me…would he?

  “Quentin?” I whispered, though there was no need. “Where are you?”

  I didn’t anticipate an answer. Now what? Now what?

  “Ella, wake up.”

  I must have dozed off during Meredith’s documentary marathon.

  Sam was here.

  Standing right there, between the TV and Meredith. I wanted to jump up and hug him.

  Wait a minute. Why wasn’t Meredith screaming about a stranger in her house?

  “You have full control now. Just like Hollywood,” he said, speaking normally this time.

  Damn, wished I would have known that sooner. I missed X-files. I blinked at him a few minutes, still unbelieving.

  I reached up and felt my neck. Yep. Beads. I held those fingers out in front of me and wiggled. Still Meredith’s perfect manicure. I could move… I could talk!

  “Sam?” I pushed out in Meredith’s husky voice. I sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, God, Sam, thank you.”

  He stepped back, his hands behind him. “Are you sure? You’re not wishing you were still with Quentin.”

  Uh-oh, twenty questions. I fired one back. “Would that be wrong?”

  “Bad man, bad man.” Winzey buzzed up to my ear.

  “Still?” I looked from Sam to Winzey. “Why would he have left Bergestein’s compound? And given me the gem?” I patted my chest.

  Oh no. The gem.

  Sam pulled a hand into view and opened his fist. The gem glittered and glowed in the light from the TV.

  “Phew, Thank you. For a minute there…”

  “You thought he’d gotten it back? He might have if I hadn’t gotten to it first. I was tagging along with you, Ella, I jumped during the magic show. Nice presentation, but all that razzle-dazzle was like a flashing neon sign.”

  I batted myself in the forehead with my fist. I should have known. I really should have.

  “Was that you there in the alley?”

  “Yeah. But not as myself. And Bergestein’s men were hot on my heels.”

  “So what happened to Quentin?” There was dread again, back to pay another visit as a rock in my stomach. That fueled another thought. My hand went to my middle. “Am I?”

  Sam pulled me to my feet. “Quentin is back at Bergestein’s. No doubt he’s locked up in some underground prison after letting you and his heir go.”

  “So I am?” That was no rock on my gut. It was a live grenade and it just exploded.

  “No.”

  “But—” Hadn’t he just said?

  “I rigged it, Ella. I had to.”

  Air left my body in an exaggerated whoosh and I sat back down. My knees were feeling a bit unstable.

  “Don’t kid yourself for a moment. Bergestein would have taken the kid. No matter how hard you and Quentin would have fought. Then he would have done away with you, if necessary.”

  Boy was I glad I was sitting down. “Why?”

  “Oh, I doubt he wants an heir, but he knows it would devastate you… and Quentin now.”

  “Bastard.”

  “He is who is.”

  “Would he do something—to Quentin, now?”

  Sam’s lips pinched together and lines around his eyes deepened. “I don’t know.”

  “We have to save him.”

  “Bad man, bad man.”

  I was tempted to flick Winzey off my shoulder.

  “No, Ella,” Sam pocketed the gem and pulled me on my feet again. “We’re not. I’ve saved him too many times. He’s dangerous and untrustworthy. I’m sorry I even thought he’d change because of you.”

  “Sam, no.”

  “Let’s get you out of there. It’s hard to face a middle-aged business woman with her eyes full of tears. Especially over a rebel punk kid.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. My hand flew up to my neck and I stepped away.

  I leaned against Sam for support. Again? Balance was in short supply. This stepping out thing had me all discombobulated. I needed to figure it out.

  “Now what?” I looked from Winzey to Sam. I tried to. Things were a little blurry around the edges. “Does this ever get easier?”

  Sam’s wise face slid into an easy smile. “Think of it as training for a marathon. You’re not going to mange to be ready in a month.”

  Well, I wouldn’t even think of tackling a marathon, but I knew what he meant. “Point taken, mister. So where are we headed?”

  “We’re going home.”

  Winzey zipped over to Sam and dove into his chest pocket. I lifted an eyebrow then glanced down. Oops.

  “Uh, you think I can get some new clothes?”

  “When we get there.”

  Sam took two steps and snapped the beads of my necklace. I clicked my heels. After all, there’s no place like home.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The orange walls looked like the sides of a giant pumpkin reaching out of the sands of the island.

  Despite the heat, cold tremors raced up my spine. It was almost as if I could hear the hollow echoes of the lost souls who were imprisoned in the hardened clay.

  “Sam?”

  The only figure on the beach was the one in the overcoat and cowboy hat.

  Damn. And not even a footprint to indicate Sam had landed with me. Where to run? Jim was charging me like a bull seeing red. I was not going to stand here and be trampled. And likely stripped of my gems.

  I flashed invisible and leapt toward the sea. Yeah, okay, so I wasn’t captain of
the diving team, but it temporarily had him scratching his head.

  My bare feet left a tell tale path behind me. Too bad I hadn’t thought to float. Brilliant me. My sarcastic attitude was fading. My hands trembled as I touched my neck.

  Could I hover now? Levitate? How about float? My head pounded while five dozen horses raced through my blood stream. I can do this. I can.

  Either I was going to float or my teeth were going to crack from the gritting.

  “Sam?!?”

  I was plucked out of the air by the back of my…suit and carried like a wayward kitten to a half-hidden cave.

  This was it. I floundered with the gems, trying to get my hands on them just right.

  I don’t want to do this, but…

  “Bad man.” Winzey buzzed around my ear. “Jim very bad man.”

  I sucked in the humid air. Water lapped at some underground stream behind me. Breezes rustled the tall grasses at the mouth of the cave. So far, no heavy footfalls counted down my doom.

  “Oh, Winzey, thank you, thank you.” I brushed my fingers through my tangled hair as I followed her back into the cave. I must have looked behind me every fourth step. What if Jim had seen or heard? What if he could sense the magic and trace me down?

  I opened my mouth to ask Winzey where we were going, but she put a hand to my upper lip. “Shh.”

  Her voice was little more than the sound of tissue rattling. I still checked every crevice of the room we had come to.

  Dead end.

  Winzey flapped out over the glassy pool and pretended to dive.

  Who me? I already displayed my inability for this sport. I pointed at my chest and glanced behind me again.

  Had I heard something? Someone?

  I stood on the edge of the gray rock and peered in. It was like there was some sort of metallic film, or a gas residue floating on the surface.

  The light wasn’t exactly conducive to cave exploring. Occasional chimneys led to blue sky, offering just enough of the sun’s rays to keep an explorer from smacking into a wall headfirst.

  At this point I wasn’t sure that was a bad idea. I might wake up from this nightmare.

  I circled the pool that disappeared under the wall. Three sides gave me three views of the multi-colored shiny water. Dive, eh?

  Winzey was getting frantic. Her little wings were approaching hummingbird speed. Something, like a stone crumbling, sent my heart up in my vocal chords. I imagined they were hugging each other for dear life as I finally nodded at Winzey.

  I sucked a deep breath into my unwilling lungs and dove.

  I had to be dead. That pond was probably only three feet deep and I must have hit my head and broken my neck. Which would explain why I was swimming in the underworld, heading toward a brilliant white light that warmed the chilled water. Dolphins and tiny mermaids swam with me, laughing, encouraging, leading me on.

  Heaven was underwater? Then Winzey floundered, her little wings flapping slower. We’d swum down, under rock and the new surface was visible, but still out of reach. I pushed Winzey up, kicking with every ounce of strength. When her little body seemed to give out again, I denied my chest relief from the fire that had started and dove back down for her.

  “No, no, no,” I screamed mentally and shook my head. Muscles screamed as they pushed and kicked.

  I kept reaching for the surface, a mirror-like image that was always just out of reach. The animals danced around me. But when I tried to use them to propel myself upward, they swirled out of my grasp.

  It was up to me.

  “I won’t fail you, Winzey.” I pushed the limp fairy ahead of me. The steam was almost gone from my body as well. We were on the verge of sinking to the bottom.

  “No,” I shouted, sucking putrid water. It gave me enough disgust for one final surge, draining all adrenaline reserves.

  My hand and head broke the surface. The air that rushed into my lungs was filled with slivers and something that scored my mouth and throat. I gagged and coughed.

  There was nothing left in my muscles to pull myself ashore. I pushed Winzey up on the edge of the grass and dug my fingers into the moist soil, hoping to anchor myself there.

  My upper body was nearly numb when I felt the large hands under my arms. I was lifted, feeling about as boneless as a rag doll. I couldn’t even pull my chin up to look around me.

  The green grass blurred into watercolor.

  Oh, look, just like in the fairy tales. I’ve been saved from certain death by the good guys.

  Mr. Senior Good Guy stood back on his heels with arms crossed over a wet splattered blue shirt. He was smiling. My own weak attempt faded before I flashed my teeth.

  The smile wasn’t because he was happy to see me.

  I clenched those teeth together, bracing myself for something I had a feeling I didn’t want to hear. “I’m sorry?” I squeaked out.

  “Sorry?” My single word was Sam’s cue to pace. Back and forth until my head ached from the motion of watching. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. Do you know why you almost didn’t make it? Do you know why you nearly killed one of my fairies? Do you?”

  His voice was thunder that rolled through the valley. I winced, waiting for the inevitable lightning.

  “No, I’m not going to strike you. You’ve done enough damage to yourself. Quentin. That’s why you’re here on the barest of mercy.”

  I let my eyes wander from his flushed face. I was inside a dramatically still island. No birds sang; no fairies visited. The waterfall continued to fall, but its volume had been turned to mute. Like a calm before the storm. Or perhaps the storm had already come through. Maybe it was over.

  I looked back at Sam, who was slowly shaking his head. No. The storm was still coming. And boy, was it was brewing up a good one.

  “Oh, it’s all here, the whole island. You just can’t see it. You can’t see Winzey even though she’s floating right in front of your face, and you can’t hear the peace and joy of this place because you’re not worthy. You’re barely worthy of standing on this ground. Count your blessings my father still sees good in you. I see a spoiled rotten, selfish brat who’s been worried about herself and her sex life.”

  Now that I wasn’t expecting. It shot through me like a nine millimeter bullet. I expected to look down and see a hole where my heart had been.

  “Oh?” It sounded wimpy. I tried again. “Is that what you think?”

  “That’s exactly what I think. You’ve been trailed every step of the way. We know you were here and tried to get in. Lucky for you Quentin decided you were worth saving.”

  I gulped. What would make me think they didn’t know? “I was trying to get away from Bergestein.” That was one hundred percent God’s honest truth.

  “After you betrayed Winzey. You remember the one who has come to your rescue time and time again?”

  Go ahead, Sam, twist the knife some more.

  “But…”

  “It’s useless, Ella. Just be quiet and listen.”

  My strength was returning at the speed of maple syrup floating downhill during a Vermont winter. So I wasn’t going to argue with him.

  “Last chance. And I mean last chance. No help—you’ve got to prove yourself. You’ve got to stop Bergestein from completing the circle.”

  “How—”

  One raised eyebrow cut my question short. It didn’t, however, stop the race of cold through my blood. Me? He expected me to do something of such enormous magnitude when I’d already messed up like I had?

  “You didn’t mess up, Ella, you just lost focus. You let the enemy too close and made yourself vulnerable. If Quentin isn’t totally on our side, consider him the enemy. No compromise. So now we’re going to use those facts to turn you into a spy and have you blow up the compound.”

  “Do what?” My voice echoed through the empty field and sounded remarkably like a wounded bird.

  Sam’s eyes twinkled. A real smile.

  “Quentin doesn’t know where you are. He still thinks Bergestein h
as you somewhere, perhaps even torturing you for the final gem.”

  Sam winked. “Your lover boy’s actually pretty tore up over the idea that you’re in danger.”

  A rush of hot air hit me. Sam’s telling me Quentin’s concerned. Worried. He does care. Maybe he does.

  “Oh, I think he does, but, Ella, we’re talking Quentin here. He’s not some cardboard cut-out of a man who’s honest about emotions. To himself, let alone to the woman he loves.”

  My knees gave way.

  He loves me.

  The hamsters woke up and got back on their treadmills. Adrenaline kick started my muscles and I started to feel human.

  “Why?” Deep breath. “Why are you telling me this?”

  He shrugged, that same I-know-something-you-don’t-know smile on his face.

  “Sam?”

  “Maybe I just think you’ll work better knowing. Or else you’ll go crazy wondering.”

  I had a feeling Sam knew me better than I knew myself. And it wasn’t magic that told him all this.

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  My legs were stiff, not to mention they felt like Popsicles from sitting on the ground for over an hour. I propped my chin up on my palms, but my arms kept falling asleep as well. I was cold, tired and would never remember all the information Sam was rattling off. I had never been an A student. I didn’t even have a way to take notes.

  But Sam had kept my attention, reprimanding me the millisecond my brain shouted, “He loves me.”

  Then he got to the explosion part.

  “Isn’t the plan a little extreme?”

  A baritone voice reached through the stillness. “Extreme?” The laugh that followed rumbled the ground beneath me. And I thought Sam’s had been thunder. Whoa. Lou was very intimidating.

  I stood up and brushed off my backside. “As exciting as it all sounds I’m still curious of the alternative.”

  Sam bit his lips and the laughter caused another mini-earthquake. “I’m afraid there is no alternative.”

  I caught a sour whiff of my own fear. Cold chills followed. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I could just disappear. Sam, I knew, was reading my thoughts. My eyes met his as my hand snaked up to feel my throat.

  Bare.

  “You didn’t think I’d give you a way out, did you? You’d jump now if you could, wouldn’t you?”