The Trouble With Witches (17 page)

After a restless night, haunted by half-remembered dreams that left me feeling on edge, I rose shortly before dawn. Quietly leaving my room, I peeked into Abby's room. Both she and
Darci
lay curled up on their separate beds, sleeping deeply. With
Queenie
following me, I went to the kitchen and made coffee. When the last of the coffee had dripped into the pot, I poured a cup and took a cautious sip of the strong, hot liquid. Its warmth seemed to ease away the lingering malaise of dreams I couldn't recall.

With cup in hand, I wandered through the living area and out onto the deck. I leaned against the railing and stared out at the lake. In the gray light, early morning mist wafted across the still water, and from a distance I heard the cawing crows. My gaze traveled around the shore of the lake to the spot where the abandoned cabin lay hidden in the trees.

I didn't doubt Walks
Quietly's
tie to the cabin. From the moment I met him, I sensed the power that he carried deep inside.
And the cabin?
A great deal of power lay there, too.
A great deal of evil.
And strong
magick
surrounded it. But had the
magick
been used to contain the evil or create it? I didn't know.

But I bet Walks Quietly does. Where did Rick say he lived?

My decision made, I swilled down my now lukewarm coffee and headed back to my room. I changed quickly from the sweats I'd worn to jeans, a light sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. Tying my shoes, I prayed I could get out of the house without waking Abby and
Darci
. I had a feeling Abby wouldn't approve of my idea.

Hurrying to the door, I found Lady watching me with hope in her eyes.

"No," I whispered. "You have to stay home this time. Abby will let you out when she gets up."

Her tail sagged and she gave me a dejected look, but went back to her spot by the windows and lay down.

Shutting the door as silently as I could, I took off down the lane toward the path Rick had mentioned.

So far so good.
At least as long as I didn't run into Duane Hobbs skulking around the woods.

An old pickup marked the spot where the lane narrowed to a simple path. And straight ahead I could see wisps of smoke hanging above the treetops. As I rushed forward, the path in front of me curved, and after rounding a bend, I found myself in the front yard of a cabin, a well-maintained cabin.

Stopping, I scanned the clearing where the cabin sat. The cabin itself had siding weathered to a muted shade of gray, but the tin roof looked shiny and new. A wide porch covered the front of the house. From the chimney, what had been only wisps from a distance were now puffs of smoke that bellowed into the morning air.

A shed that had seen better days sat away from the house, and cords of wood were stacked against the side of the building. Near the shed, an axe, with the blade partially buried in a chopping block, awaited its owner's use. To the right of the shed I noticed a bundle wrapped in white cloth, hanging from a tree branch. My eyes traveled across the front of the cabin to the other side. Another bundle, this one red, hung from a different tree. Looking up at the tree next to me, I saw a third bundle, but instead of white or red, this one was yellow.

What were they? I made a move to touch the yellow bundle when I heard a creak. Whipping back toward the house, I saw the door slowly swinging open, and ducked behind the tree that held the yellow bundle.

From my hiding place I watched Walks Quietly stride into the center of the clearing around his cabin. Taking a pouch from his shirt pocket, he opened it and placed a pinch of something in his right hand.

Light from the morning sun illuminated the spot where he stood, and the sky above him was shot with pink and gold. He extended his right hand, palm up, toward the sky and began to chant in words I didn't know. He turned to his right, to the south, still chanting.

The words made no sense to me, but I felt their sound vibrate in my soul.
A sound that mingled with the morning call of the birds in an age-old song.
I watched while Walks Quietly continued his circle, facing west, north, and then back to the east. I don't know how long his ceremony took. Time had lost meaning as I felt myself swept up in the rhythm of his chant.

His voice dropped to a whisper as he closed his right palm and sprinkled whatever he held on the ground. A sense of reverence filled the clearing, and for a moment even the birds were quiet.

"You can come out from behind the tree now," he said clearly.

Sheepishly, I slunk out from behind it.

"Didn't you see the No Trespassing sign?" Brown eyes stared at me in a way that made me squirm.

"Yeah," I answered like a petulant child. "Are you going to have me arrested?"

His face tightened and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "It wouldn't do any good. What do you want?"

"I'd like to ask you a question." I chewed on my lip, nervously waiting for his reply.

For a second he seemed to think about it, but then he turned and over his shoulder said, "I don't answer questions from whites."

I rushed after him and caught up. "Please." I placed my hand on his arm. All became still and my brain hummed with the power I felt inside this man. I dropped my hand and took a step back. Shoving my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt, I stared at the ground.

Seconds ticked by while I felt the weight of his stare. Finally his voice broke the silence.

"What's your question?"

Tamping down my nerves, I looked at him. "I've been told you're
Tink's
friend. Is she being mistreated?"

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "The child is nothing to you," he replied.

Offended, I tilted my chin. "If you mean I don't know her, you're right. But it doesn't mean I'd stand by and do nothing if I knew the girl was being mistreated."

"And what would you do?" he scoffed. "Go to your authorities?"

"Well, yes, I would."
My tone strident.
"I'd find someone to get her out of the situation she's in, to help her."

"But if no one would? Would you? And how far would you go with your help?" He stopped and looked past me into the woods. "Would you be responsible for her? Care for her?" he asked, looking back at me.

"I don't know." I shuffled my feet and thought about
Tink's
violet eyes and happy song. "Yes, yes I would." I met his stare straight on. "I'd do whatever I could for her."

Walks
Quietly
nodded, and I felt like I had passed some kind of test.

"No," he said softly. "She isn't being mistreated, but her spirit isn't free. You've asked your question. Now go, Ophelia Jensen." He turned and walked toward the cabin.

"Wait," I called out. "What about Duane Hobbs and the girl, Brandi?"

He faced me.
"The red-haired girl from across the lake?
What about her?"

"She's missing."

A light flickered in his eyes and disappeared. "I know nothing. Let your authorities find her."

"But they've tried." I sounded desperate. "They can't find her."

"I can't help you," he said abruptly.

I wasn't about to back down. I'd seen a spark of something in his eyes when I told him that Brandi was missing.

Standing straight, I glared at him. "Can't or won't?"

"Either way.
It doesn't make a difference," he said in a hard voice. "I won't be involved with the problems of the whites." He turned away, dismissing me.

"Okay," I called out again. "What about the cabin across the lake. The one you—"

He spun around.
"You silly, foolish woman!
You don't know what you're dealing with—stay away from there." He took a step toward me.

My eyes wide with fright, I turned and flew down the path, so intent on getting away from Walks Quietly that I missed the flash of white skittering through the woods.

When I arrived back at the cabin, the only ones to greet me were
Queenie
and Lady. A note from Abby on the refrigerator said she and
Darci
had gone into Melcher for breakfast. A postscript, with a happy face beneath Abby's elegant handwriting, hoped I had a nice walk. Lots of exclamation points followed the statement.
Darci
.

I moped around the cabin, playing with Lady, petting
Queenie
, but nothing seemed to hold my attention for long. The sun, high in the sky now, shone down on the lake, making the water look cool and inviting.

Changing into a bathing suit and throwing a shirt and shorts over it, I slid my feet into flip-flops, grabbed the sunscreen, and headed down the hill to the lake. Maybe relaxing on the dock would quiet the unease I felt.

Once on the dock, I peeled off my shirt, lathered on the sunscreen, and let the warm sun beat down on my back and arms. My unprotected back might get a little red, but the heat felt so good, I didn't care. Sitting down on the edge of the dock, I let my feet dangle in the cool lake.

In the clear water beneath the dock I saw flashes of silver as tiny fish swam along the sandy bottom. Several lurked close to the pilings, hiding from the larger fish that saw them as a tasty meal. The motors of ski boats rumbled in the distance, and the sound of waves lapped the shore. A breeze stirred the pines growing behind me, and finally I felt my body begin to relax.

I lay back on the dock and stared at the trails of white clouds moving slowly across the sky. As a child, I'd played the game all children do and tried to see what shapes the clouds made. I did it now.

What did I see? One cloud looked like a dragon. A plump cloud formed the body and wisps trailing away made wings and a long arched neck. The shape shifted and, to my eyes, formed a face, a smiling face. My eyelids closed with the image of the face locked in my mind.

While I lay there, I felt the air suddenly cool, as if one of the clouds blocked the sun. Unwilling to open my eyes, I waited for the cloud to move on, but the temperature continued to drop and my skin prickled at the unexpected chill. I thought I heard a voice in my ear. With eyes still closed, I strained to hear the words, but they whispered and hissed like a snake. My stomach cramped.