The Wrong Side of Magic (6 page)

As he climbed, the wind blew some of the smaller branches toward him, piercing the skin on his wrists and hands. Each time it happened, Hudson let out a yelp. Which—although he couldn't be sure—seemed to make Proval laugh. Once or twice Proval called out, “Careful not to fall!”

Hudson hoped this wasn't some horrible practical joke. If the box didn't lead anywhere and he had to climb back down this tree, he would not be happy.

Finally, after pricking and pulling himself over a dozen more branches, Hudson reached a platform and the dresser-size box that sat there. It was made of twisted tree branches, and leaves and thorns still covered many of them. The door was smooth—modern-looking, as though it belonged to Hudson's world instead of this one. Well, with one notable difference. A bird's nest protruded where the doorknob should have been. Its owner, a red-and-white-striped bird, squawked angrily at Hudson and flew away.

Three candy-cane-striped eggs sat in the nest. Hudson took them out so they wouldn't break, then twisted the bird's nest to open the door. He kept the door open with his foot, replaced the eggs, and waved good-bye to Glamora and Proval.

They waved back.

Hudson crouched his way inside the box, and as he said his address, the door closed shut behind him.

It was completely dark. He wondered again if this box would really take him home, or whether Proval and Glamora were playing a prank. Only one way to find out. Slowly, he got on his hands and knees and eased his way farther into the box. He still couldn't see anything. The floor under his hands felt smooth and cool. He took a few more crawling steps forward.

Hudson had never thought about the different kinds of darkness before, but he knew them: The annoying black that happened when somebody accidentally turned off the light on you. The peaceful obscurity that came from shutting your eyes to go to sleep. And there was the pressing dimness—fear curling its edges—that happened when you had to walk somewhere alone in the night.

Hudson had never felt magical darkness before. It was a spinning sort of blackness that made him feel as if he were falling down and rushing upward, and he had no idea where he would land.

 

4

AFTER A FEW
moments, the magical darkness faded into a general freaked-out blackness, which would have been worse except Hudson saw a crack of light ahead of him—the outline of a small door. He crawled forward, and his hand clanged into something. He scooted to the right and bumped into more things, all of them scattering and clanking in a scolding chorus. He had no idea what any of them were, and he lunged forward out of the door.

He found himself sprawled on his kitchen floor surrounded by pots and pans he'd knocked out of the cupboard.

He lay there, startled, and took deep breaths.

Bonnie sat at the table, holding the mixing bowl in her lap. She cocked her head with confusion when she saw him. “Hudson, what were you doing in the cupboard?”

How could he even begin to answer that question? He sat up and brushed himself off. A few little red leaves from the thorn tree fluttered to the floor. “So it turns out I was wrong about that compass,” he said. “It was magic after all.”

Bonnie's mouth dropped open. “Did it magic you into the cupboard?”

“It magicked me into Charlotte's world. I just came home through the cupboard.” He pulled the now crumpled stem of catflower from his pocket and held it out. “I got your catflower.”

Her eyes widened, and she grabbed the flower from his hand. “This is it?”

Hudson nodded. “I don't know how we're supposed to feed it to Sunshine. Maybe if we tear it up into pieces and…”

He didn't finish, because Bonnie had put the flower near the kitten's face. Sunshine opened her eyes, licked the flower several times, then chewed on the end. After a few moments of this, she purred and chomped down the whole flower. Then, as if she'd only just noticed how bedraggled she was, she set about giving herself a thorough lick-down.

“Look at that,” Hudson said. “She's getting better already.”

Bonnie petted Sunshine's head happily. “I knew Charlotte was telling the truth.” Bonnie paused, apparently remembering the other things Charlotte had told her about Logos. “Were there unicorns?”

“Yep. I met two.”

Bonnie's lips scrunched together, and she let out a huff of irritation. “I wanted to go and ride them, but you wouldn't let me. You said it was pretend.”

Hudson did feel bad about it, when she put it that way. “The unicorns weren't as nice as you'd think. Actually, they were sort of snooty.”

Bonnie's lips remained unhappily scrunched together.

“And I had to climb a thorny tree to get back here.” He held up his hands so she could see the scratches the thorns had left across his palms. That's when he noticed the kitchen clock. He'd been gone for over an hour. “I'd better give Charlotte her compass back.”

Before Bonnie could go on and on about how he'd made her miss riding a unicorn, Hudson slipped out the door and headed down the sidewalk to Charlotte's house. He hadn't gone far when Isabella and her friend Macy turned onto the sidewalk a little ways ahead of him. It was only then that he remembered about the basketball game. All the oddities of the past couple of hours had chased mundane things like basketball from his mind.

Normally, Hudson wouldn't have said anything to a group of girls on the sidewalk—especially if Isabella was one of those girls. But he felt the weight of the magic mirror in his pocket. It was a cool, gleaming disk full of confidence.

He wanted to take the mirror out of his pocket and check his appearance. Was he taller now? Stronger? His nose probably wasn't so wide, and his teeth were probably straight, too, which meant he wouldn't have to wear braces. His mom could stop saving money for them. Win-win, all the way.

He left the mirror in his pocket. He didn't want Isabella and Macy to glance over their shoulders and catch him staring at his reflection for no apparent reason.

Instead, he caught up with the girls. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “Are you all going to the basketball game?”

Isabella gazed at him casually. She didn't seem to notice his new handsomeness. “Yeah. We promised Andy and Caidan we'd cheer for them.”

Macy was holding her phone and texting someone. “I hope it doesn't last long. I don't know why boys get such a kick out of running around bouncing a ball.”

“It's fun,” Hudson said. He was a decent basketball player. Maybe now that he was taller, the other guys would ask him to play.

The group reached Charlotte's house. Hudson didn't stop. He could return the compass to her after the game. It would be safe in his pocket for an hour or so.

Isabella looked Hudson over questioningly, and he wondered if she'd finally noticed his recent switch to hotness. “What happened to your jacket?” she asked.

Hudson glanced down at his jacket. It was not only ripped in places, but it was also peppered with flecks of bark. He brushed those away. “I climbed a thorn tree. It messed up my clothes.”

Isabella scrunched her nose. “Thorn tree? What's that?”

“And why would you climb one?” Macy added.

Hudson considered telling them the truth about Logos and quickly dismissed that idea. Good looks could only earn you forgiveness for so much craziness. Case in point: Charlotte. She was pretty enough, but the popular girls avoided her. And Andy and Caidan had made fun of her to her face today. Besides, if Hudson told Isabella and Macy about Logos, they'd want to see the compass—maybe even use it—and it belonged to Charlotte.

“Uh, I was goofing around. You know, climbing stuff.” Hudson wiped his jacket some more. His mom wouldn't be happy he'd ruined it. She'd just bought it for him.

“Is that how you scratched your hands?” Isabella asked.

The skin around his scratches was tinted an angry red, and the scratches stung a little, too. “Yeah,” he said.

Macy shook her head. “I will never understand boys.”

Isabella kept peering at his hands. “Those scratches look infected. Maybe you should put something on them.”

“I will,” Hudson said. “Later.” He didn't want to go home now, not when he was having his first real conversation with Isabella. She had to have noticed by now the handsomeness oozing off him. Any moment now, she'd start flirting.

Macy stared at his hands, too. “Was there any poison ivy around? I walked through poison ivy once, and my legs got red like that.”

“No.” Hudson put his hands in his jacket pockets, so the girls would stop gaping at them. “Just thorns.”

“If you say so.” Macy clearly didn't believe him.

After that, Macy talked to Isabella about the social studies Civil War assignment. Macy thought it would be fun to dress up like a Southern belle for her report, and she wanted Isabella to go dress shopping with her.

Really, Macy thought boys didn't make sense? At least they didn't go on and on about hoop skirts.

When the group got to the park, the game had already started. People lined both sides of the court, sitting in the grass there. Some of them shouted out instructions to the players.

“Steal the ball! C'mon!”

“Make the shot!”

Out on the court, Andy dodged around another player and went for a layup. The ball swooshed effortlessly into the basket, and a cheer went up from the crowd on the far side.

Without saying good-bye to Hudson, Macy and Isabella walked off, heading toward a group of girls sitting in a cluster behind one of the baskets.

So much for the power of his new good looks. Hudson spotted Trevor and went to sit with him. Did the mirror even work? He slipped it out of his pocket, shifting it one way and then the other to look at his face. From what he could tell, he looked exactly the same. Wide nose and crooked teeth. Maybe the magic took a while to kick in. He put the mirror back in his pocket, watched the game, and forgot about it.

A half an hour later, Macy and Isabella made their way over to Hudson. He was so engrossed in the game he didn't see them until Isabella snapped out, “Hudson!”

He looked at her and gasped. Small red boils dotted both girls' faces and arms. “What happened to you?” he asked.

“That's what we want to know,” Isabella said stiffly. “What plants did you tromp around in? Because whatever it was, we've got an allergic reaction to it.”

Hudson checked his own arms. No spots. No boils, just the scratches on his hands. “It couldn't be from me,” he said, and then stopped. He noticed faint pink spots blooming on Trevor's cheeks—the beginnings of boils.

Macy saw them, as well. “It
is
you! Trevor is getting them, too!”

Trevor put his hands to his face, worried. “What? I'm getting those ugly spots?” He held up his arms, revealing a batch of budding red marks. “Oh man,” he moaned. “What did you do?”

“It isn't me,” Hudson insisted. And then he noticed the people sitting on his other side. Every single one of them had spots sprouting on their faces and arms.

Isabella gave Hudson a squinty-eyed glare and put her hands on her hips. “If these scar, I will kill you.”

“I don't have them,” Hudson insisted, “so it can't be me. It must be something…” Then he realized what had happened, and he felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. Rex had said that once Hudson owned the magic mirror, he would be the most handsome person around.

And he was. Hudson was the most handsome, because he was the only one who didn't have boils erupting on his face. This was bad. Horrible, actually.

Hudson got to his feet, gulping hard. “I, um, I think I'd better go home.” He dashed away from the court and sprinted the rest of the way out of the park. Why had Rex given him the stupid mirror? It wasn't a gift. It was a curse.

Hudson needed to get rid of it. Would throwing away the mirror get rid of everyone's boils? Did he need to break it? He wanted to but didn't dare. Maybe the mirror needed to be whole to reverse the curse.

How did this sort of magic work? His only hope was that Charlotte would know what to do. She would help him—had to help him. He couldn't go to school if he gave everyone around him boils. He couldn't go anywhere.

Hudson didn't stop running until he reached Charlotte's house.

He was out of breath and panting when he rang her doorbell. Even after she opened the door, all he could do was gulp in air and mutter, “Charlotte…”

Her ponytail was more lopsided than it had been during school. It looked sort of like an auburn snake leaping off her head. She watched him curiously, as though a person panting on her doorstep might be some strange custom she didn't understand. “Hi, Hudson. Do you need something?”

“Yeah,” he managed, and waved vaguely in the direction he'd come from. “Everybody is breaking out in boils. I think it's because of a mirror this guy from your land gave me.” Hudson reached into his pocket, tugging the mirror free. “Shouldn't this thing come with a warning label?” Without waiting for her answer, he added, “How am I supposed to get rid of everybody's boils? They're all mad at me.”

Charlotte tilted her head at him. “What?”

He started again, this time from the beginning. “I pushed the knob up on your compass—”

“Wait,” Charlotte interrupted. “You went to Logos instead of Bonnie?” She let out the sort of sigh you give a toddler who has dressed himself and proudly put on his pants backward. “It was nice of you to go in your sister's place, but…” Instead of finishing the thought, she said, “Just tell me you brought back my compass.”

“I did. Look, can you help me with the boils?”

Charlotte opened the door wider and motioned him inside. “You'd better tell me everything.”

Hudson hadn't expected Charlotte's home to be like anyone else's, but he still was surprised. A potted tree stood in the middle of the living room. Not a fake silk tree as he'd seen demurely decorating the corners of other people's houses. This tree was about as tall as Hudson, with a half-dozen branches holding droopy royal-blue leaves. They hung limply from the branches like raindrops waiting to fall. It needed more sunlight, or water, or a bigger pot of dirt. Maybe a tree medic.