The Demon Notebook (4 page)

“I asked you a question.” Tracy's tone hardened, and she slapped Grace's bag so it slipped off her shoulder. Grace stayed silent but picked up the pace a little. Grabbing the strap of the bag sharply, Tracy pulled Grace toward her until they were almost nose to nose.

“You tell the Freak I'll be especially looking out for her tomorrow. And you'd be best keeping your distance after that, know what I mean?”

Tracy's henchmen giggled, barely visible behind Tracy's awesome mass. Grace shrugged her off, frowning but not daring to talk back. As she hurried home, she realized her friend was in more than one kind of trouble. What if the new Una didn't
know
about Tracy Murphy's intense dislike? And if she dared speak to Tracy the way she was speaking to everyone else, Tracy would assume she was being made fun of in front of everyone and
definitely
knock Una's block off.

Grace called the others as soon as she got into the house. They were going to need a game plan in place by the next day.

***

The plan next morning consisted of one very simple rule—keep Una as far away from Tracy Murphy as possible. Unfortunately, this meant that the girls could never leave Una alone, so they took shifts throughout the day depending on their schedules. Adie didn't want to take the first shift, but she was in both of Una's classes that morning, so it was the most practical. During the break, the girls herded Una out of the main building and behind the tennis courts, where they kept an eye out for the Beast and her cronies. Jenny had the next class, and Grace after that. Lunchtime was going to be the big problem. No one was allowed to leave the premises during lunch, so they had to stick to the school grounds. Their lunchroom was in Tracy's block, so that was definitely out. After much arguing back and forth, they agreed to sneak into one of the science labs and hide there at lunchtime for the time being.

“What a very well-equipped lab,” said Una, gazing around.

Slowly chewing on their sandwiches, the girls tried their best to ignore Una's odd conversation.

“The gas taps on each desk are well-placed and, I'm sure, very useful,” she went on.

Jenny let her head fall heavily onto her lunch box, knocking over the obligatory bag of M&Ms that scattered across the desk and onto the floor.

“You've made a mess, Jenny,” said Una.

“Be quiet, Una!” Grace snapped, unable to contain herself any longer. But Una merely got up and wandered, humming, over to the window.

“When are we going to fix her?” Jenny grumbled, with her head still down on the desk.

“Tell me how, and I'll do it!” Grace replied.

“What if this is permanent?” Jenny said, finally lifting her head. “Do you think…?” She glanced at Una and lowered her voice. “Is she still
in
there?”

Grace looked up at Una's blank face staring at them and felt suddenly sad.

“She has to be,” she said. “And we have to fix her soon. I've got a horrible feeling that the longer she stays like this, the worse it's going to get.”

“Not to mention the fact that we're not going to be able to hide her from Tracy forever,” said Adie.

“I think we need to go back to the Ouija board,” Rachel said.

“What?” exclaimed Adie. “No. No way. I'm not doing that again. That's what did this to her in the first place.”

“It might be the only way to help her.”

“What do you mean?” said Grace.

Rachel leaned forward and whispered, “What if she's
possessed
?”

Grace had considered the possibility but had been too afraid to say it out loud. She figured the others had felt the same.

“I don't know, Rach,” she said, shaking her head. “It doesn't look like it does in the movies. I mean, she's not tearing anyone's head off or making objects fly around the room. She's just…well,
not
herself
.”

“I think we should try going back to the board anyway,” said Rachel. “It could be a quick fix.”

“And what if it's not?” Adie asked. “What if it just does this to another one of us?”

“I'm not sure the board is the way to go,” said Jenny. “We could try a spell, to make her normal again. I'm sure
The
Great
Book
of
the
Occult
has something like that we can try.”

“And what if
that
goes wrong?” said Adie. “If our spells are actually working now, we might do something terrible to Una if we don't get it right.”

“Adie's right,” Grace said solemnly, looking around at the others. “We just don't have a clue what we're doing.”

***

Grace, Adie, and Jenny sat quietly in Ms. Lemon's French class that afternoon. The realization that they had no idea how to help Una had left them all feeling utterly defeated. They gazed vacantly at the incomprehensible phrases that Ms. Lemon's marker scribbled across the whiteboard.

Grace was racking her brains for someone who could help them. They could search online, but the Internet was full of lunatics who probably didn't know any more than
they
did, but would try and charge them a fortune for nothing. They could tell their parents or a teacher, but who would believe them? And if they pointed out Una's strange behavior, some doctor would probably prescribe lots of pills and time in a psych ward in a hospital. No, they couldn't risk that. They would have to deal with this themselves.

“Ahh, gross!” Sally Martin jumped out of her seat and pressed against the next table, staring in disgust at the boy who had sat beside her. “The smell! Miss!”

Everyone leaned up in their seats or stood up altogether, trying to get a good look at Andrew Wallace, who was now fumbling with his bag and blushing so fiercely it looked like his head might burst. Ms. Lemon stepped forward to see what the matter was, and stepped back again quickly, looking very confused.

“Andrew, how did…” she stammered. “Are you all right? Why didn't you ask to go to the bathroom?”

“I…I don't know, Miss.”

Andrew stood up, crouched over, trying to hide the evidence from the rest of the class. A sudden titter of laughter started at the tables nearest to him and gradually spread around the room.

“He peed himself!” a hissing whisper echoed around the class.

“That's enough, everyone!” Ms. Lemon shouted, trying to gain control of the rapidly growing hysteria. “Andrew, you're excused. I said
that's enough
! Everybody sit down and take out your textbooks!”

Grace, Adie, and Jenny were the only three to remain seated. Adie's and Jenny's faces had turned totally white. Grace's was bright red. She was blushing not out of embarrassment but out of complete shame. She remembered thinking how funny it would be for her old enemy, Andrew Wallace, to wet himself and run out of the classroom in mortification. But as she watched him escape through the door, clutching his bag to his front, she saw tears in his eyes, and it wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all.

Another sleepover was arranged for that Saturday night, this time in Jenny's house. But no junk food or DVDs were brought along, and Una hadn't been invited. One by one, the four girls climbed silently up the ladder to Jenny's attic bedroom, settling in a circle on the floor, where Grace placed the open notebook.

Tua
omnis
voluntas
et
ordinem.
Your wish is my command.

They all stared at the words scrawled below Grace's neat blue handwriting. Her orderly script listed all the spells they had tried since beginning their adventure in witchcraft.

“Of all the pages it could have written on,” said Jenny, “it wrote on that one.”

“It can't have been an accident,” said Adie. “The pages were fluttering back and forth, all of them. It landed on that one because it was
looking
for that one.”

“Now it's making that list of spells happen,” Rachel said, pulling Jenny's bedspread around her shoulders.

“Why did we think that spell on Andrew would be funny?” Grace said quietly.

“I know,” replied Jenny. “Did you see his face? That was awful. He'll never live that down.”

“It was so mean,” Adie agreed.

“So how long is this going to go on for?” asked Rachel. “I mean, are
all
the spells going to happen? And what then? Will Una go back to normal?”

Shielding Una from Tracy was exhausting, and the girls were glad for the break from her odd conversation and unblinking stares. Besides, they figured she was perfectly safe at home for the weekend. Unless, of course, her family had her certified for saying
please
and
thank
you
all the time.

“I don't know,” replied Grace. “If it's done the most recent spell first, maybe it's working backward—the love spell, and then the pee spell—what's next?”

She twisted the notebook around to read it instead of waiting for an answer.

“Snow. It's the snow spell next.”

“Well, that's not so bad,” said Rachel. “What then?”

Grace froze, staring at the page, and her chin began to tremble.

“What is it? What's the next spell?” asked Adie.

“It's not the next spell I'm worried about,” Grace whispered after a long pause. “It's what's at the
top
of the list—the very
first
spell we tried.”

She picked up the notebook and held it out for someone to take.

“The first spell,” she said, her hand shaking. “Our first spell.”

Nobody took the notebook. They didn't need to read it. They all remembered what the first spell was.

“But we didn't mean that,” cried Jenny. “Una was angry. She didn't mean it.
We
didn't mean it!
”

“Does it count?” Rachel asked, beginning to panic. “I mean, we'd only started. We didn't really know how to cast spells then. It was just a…it was just a trial. We didn't mean for it to work!”

“We followed the instructions in the book,” Grace said. “It was done just like all the others.”

She laid the notebook back on the floor, and all eyes went reluctantly to the top of the page.

Spell number one: Make Tracy Murphy get hit by a bus.

***

Later that night, Grace turned over in her sleeping bag and let her mind drift back to how it all started.

It had been just over two months before, when Jenny had arrived at Rachel's house with a black eye. Witchcraft was a brand-new idea to the girls, and they were having a meeting to cast their first spell. Jenny had brought the enormous leather-bound spell book, as promised, but all Grace could see was the shiny welt on Jenny's face.

“Oh my God!” she said. “What happened to you?”

“The Beast,” Jenny replied.

“You're kidding,” said Rachel. “Why did she go after
you
?”

“I was walking home with Una, and Tracy told her to hand over the bracelet she was wearing. The one Adie gave her for her birthday. I told her to get lost.” Jenny gently scratched the swollen purple bruise around her eye. “She grabbed Una's arm, and I pushed her off. Then she punched me in the face.”

“I can't believe it,” said Adie. “What did your parents say? Did you tell them who did it?”

“No,” said Jenny, “and they're really mad about it. But if my parents contact the school, it'll only make things worse. Tracy would get in trouble about it, and Una's life wouldn't be worth living.”

Una arrived moments later, apparently even more upset than Jenny.

“Tracy just
hit
her!” she squealed. “Right in the face! It was so horrible. I'm so sorry, Jenny. This is all my fault. I just wish there was something I could do about it.”

“Don't be silly. It's not your fault,” Jenny replied.

“Hey,” said Rachel, “I was thinking, if we're going to try out something from
The
Great
Book
of
the
Occult
tonight, why don't we cast a spell on the Beast? Like a revenge spell or something?”

“Yeah!” said Grace. “That's perfect. Something we all really want. Maybe that'll help it to work.”

“Definitely,” said Una, her voice low and determined. “I definitely want to try that.”

When everything was arranged according to the book's instructions, the girls sat in a circle around a lit candle and a piece of card adorned with Jenny's crudely drawn pentagram. Una tossed Tracy's compass onto the floor, next to the candle. Tracy had once used the compass to try and poke her in the back, but had missed and left it lodged in Una's bag strap instead.

“Right,” said Grace, “I'll say the spell, and you all hold hands and concentrate on the candle's flame. Remember, don't break the circle 'til I've blown the candle out.”

She settled herself on her haunches, took Rachel's hand to her right and Adie's to her left, and took a deep breath.

“O, Guardians of Vengeance sweet,

Give hope and power and peace to us,

Allow dark magic's awesome feat—”

“Make Tracy Murphy get hit by a bus!”

Taken aback by Una's sudden interruption, Grace was too slow to stop her before she leaned forward and, with one sharp breath, blew out the candle.

“Una!” she cried. “That's not the verse we wrote!”

“It's the one we should have written,” Una said, frowning as she dropped Rachel's and Jenny's hands.

“But what if it works?” said Grace.

“What if it does?” replied Una. “She deserves it.”

She looked around at the uncertain faces of her friends.

“
Relax
, it's not going to work,” she said, after a pause. “I'm bored with all this magic stuff. Let's watch a movie.”

“No action movies, please,” pleaded Adie.

“And I'm not watching a chick flick,” said Grace.

Rachel took Adie and Una downstairs to riffle through the DVD collection in the living room, while Grace and Jenny cleared up the remains of their first venture into magic.

“You don't think it'll really work, do you?” said Jenny.

“I don't know,” said Grace. “No, not really. Still…”

“She probably does deserve it,” said Jenny, gently rubbing her eye again and wincing as she neared the sorest part. “Not just for this, I mean. But for all of it.”

“Yeah.” Grace nodded. “She probably does deserve it. I just wouldn't want to be the person who does that to someone else, you know?”

“Yeah, me neither.”

***

After the realization that their spells had started working—and the shocking reminder of the nature of their first one—the girls had lain awake almost all of Saturday night imagining the moment when Tracy Murphy would meet her maker. On Sunday morning, they got up, one by one, filled with dread. Subdued, they parted company, and each spent the day looking out of the windows of her own home and fearing the worst.

Although Monday morning dawned bright and sunny, in math class Rachel nudged Grace and nodded at the classroom window. Grace looked up and watched, horrified, as the first gentle flakes glided to the ground. In less than ten minutes, they had picked up furious speed, and by the time an emergency announcement had been made over the intercom instructing everyone to head home immediately, there was a full-on blizzard engulfing the school.

“It's bizarre,” Grace heard the vice principal say to one of the teachers as they battled their way down the corridor through hordes of rushing students. “It's just this town. Nowhere else in the state. It's like we're stuck in a snow globe.”

Outside, the school grounds had turned perfectly white, and still the snow fell and the wind picked up. Land Rovers and other big cars arrived as those parents who could reach the school took away students. A few enthusiastic kids attempted to make snowmen and throw snowballs while they waited for a ride, but the ferocious weather worsened until everyone was forced back inside the main building. Grace and the others huddled by a radiator for warmth.

“My dad's truck might get through,” said Jenny. “He could take you all home.”

“Have you called him?” asked Adie.

“No signal,” Grace cut in. “No one's getting any signal in this weather.”

“We're all going to be stuck here,” said Adie, “everyone who's left. It's just getting worse out there. Not even the four-by-fours can get through now, I bet.”

Adie was right. By this time, no traffic could navigate through the wall of snow. The principal stood on the stage in the main hall and announced that, in all likelihood, they would all be there for the night. Groans and wails could be heard around the hall, and some crying from a few desperately unhappy and frightened students. The remaining teachers hurried in and out of storerooms and classrooms, trying to scrounge together blankets and food. The vending machines were opened and emptied, but not even a steady stream of chocolate and potato chips could lift spirits. The kids were cold and hungry. They wanted real dinners. They wanted to be safe and warm at home.

“At least Una got out,” Jenny sighed, stealing some of Rachel's coat to cover her freezing knees. “Saw her dad pick her up when the cars could still get past the gates. Imagine being stuck here with her rambling on for hours.”

“Are you all right, girls?” They all looked up to see Ms. Lemon's concerned face.

“Not really, no,” groaned Adie.

“We're all right, Miss,” Grace said. “But are we definitely stuck here all night?”

“I'm afraid it looks that way,” replied Ms. Lemon. “Even if they get the police out, or something, I can't see them making any headway…it's just too strange…”

Grace frowned as their French teacher seemed to drift off for a moment, staring into the middle distance like she was working out a puzzle.

“Anyway,” she said, shaking her head quickly, “if you girls get too cold, or if you need anything, come and tell me.”

“We will, Miss. Thanks,” Grace replied.

The girls huddled closer together as she walked away.

“Anyone else feeling horribly guilty right now?” said Adie.

“Shh!” said Grace. “Keep it down.”

“Oh, no one's listening,” Adie sighed. “They're all too cold and hungry. And it's all our fault.”

“All we asked for was
a
little
snow,” said Rachel sulkily. “How is this a little snow? We didn't ask for a blizzard. We just wanted to have a snowball fight.”

“We asked for
real
snow,” snapped Adie.

“Real snow for a snowball fight,” said Rachel, raising her voice. “We just wanted to make sure it would stick. That it wouldn't just be sleet or something. We didn't ask to get snowed into
school!
”

“Stop it!” rasped Grace, trying to keep her voice to a whisper. “People can hear you. What does it matter what we asked for? This is what we got. We can't do anything about it now.”

“Well, we're going to have to do something about it,” Jenny said quietly. “Not just the snow, but all of it. This is what? Spell number seven? Not far to go to number one. And we still don't have a clue how to stop it.”

That shut them all up.

“Hey, Grace.” James O'Connor came hurrying across the main hall, his jacket held out to her and his voice way too loud. “Here, put this on. You must be freezing.”

“Have my jacket, Grace. You must be
freeeezing
!” someone mimicked in the crowd. That was followed by some nasty giggling, which, luckily, didn't last long. After all, teasing is hungry work, and there was no hope of dinner.

“Aw.” Adie obviously couldn't help herself. “That's really nice.”