Chapter 4: Old Enemies, New Friends

Hillary was thankful that Windslow had come up with a quick story.  He had told Jimmy that making the word “death” show up on the envelope was a magic trick.  Windslow promised to show Jimmy how to do the trick some day and apologized for not using a different word. No one knew what to say next. Trish broke the uncomfortable silence when she announced that cake was ready.

After eating in the backyard, they had talked a bit.  Windslow thought it was funny the way Jimmy blushed and stammered when he asked Hillary if he could call her sometime.  Windslow rolled his eyes and wanted to say something, but kept silent when Hillary blushed and stumbled on her words, telling Jimmy that she guessed it would be all right.

After Jimmy left, Trish was full of questions and kept telling Hillary what a nice boy she thought Jimmy was.  Windslow was actually happy when the mosquitoes came out. It gave Hillary and him an excuse to go back inside and be alone. 

“He’s so polite,” Windslow said in a mocking high pitched voice, as he tried to imitate his stepmother. “Maybe we should invite him over to dinner.”

“Stuff it!” Hillary said.  “We have a few things to do right now that are more important than picking on each other.”  She peeked down the hallway before easing her bedroom door nearly shut. She was afraid she’d raise suspicion if she closed it all the way.

“I’d say we have more than a few things to worry about.” Windslow wheeled his chair over to Hillary’s desk.  He grabbed the envelope from under a box of tissues, where Hillary had put it to keep it out of sight. “There’s my dream about Molly being in danger, the words I saw on the envelope when it touched the book, the word that’s on it now, and just the small fact that the Book of Broken Promises opened by itself.”

“And I’m worried that Angstrom is mixed up in this somehow.  There’s something about him I don’t like,” Hillary said as she got down on her hands and knees to look under her bed. “Let’s check the book first.”

Hillary lifted the edge of her bedspread.  “What’s this?” she said.

“What’s what?” Windslow asked as Hillary slid out the book.

“This.”  She held up the small piece of folded parchment sealed with a glob of red wax embossed with the letter H.

“Let me see it,” Windslow said and stretched out his hand.

Hillary ignored him. She put the open Book of Broken Promises on her bed and sat down beside it. She looked at the seal, sniffed it and looked at her stepbrother. “Wax.”

“Duh,” Windslow said.  “What did you think it was?  Blood?  Open it!”

Hillary shook her head and made a “tisk” sound as she used her thumbnail to peel back the sealing wax and open the note.  “It’s a letter from Haggerwolf.”

“What’s it say?” Windslow wheeled his chair closer to the bed.

“I’m reading,” Hillary said without looking up.

Windslow stretched forward and tried to grab at the parchment, but Hillary leaned back as she kept reading. “There’s trouble in Gabendoor,” Hillary said and handed the note to her stepbrother.

“Does it say anything about Molly?” Windslow asked as he took the note and began reading.

“No,” Hillary said. “They’re worried about some spirit named Gristle-tooth. They want us to dream-slip to Gabendoor right away.”

“Sure, like we can just dream-slip anytime we want to,” Windslow said and glanced up at his sister.

#

…zit…crackle…

Look! The note tells us how.

Fistlock grinned as he held the small radio to his ear.

Angstrom crouched next to Fistlock in the woods behind the Summerfield house. “What do you hear?” Angstrom asked. He picked up a set of binoculars and used them to watch Hillary’s window.

Fistlock gave Angstrom a shove that nearly sent his pudgy assistant sprawling into the thorn bushes beside them.

You’ll need to do this by yourself, Hillary.  There’s no way I can sneak out before midnight.  Just make sure you—hiss.. snap!

“Owe!” Fistlock said and pulled the radio away from his ear.  “What happened?”

“Here, look,” Angstrom said.  He sniffed, wiped his nose on the back of his hand and handed the binoculars to Fistlock.

Fistlock scowled as he turned a small knob to bring the window into focus. A brown squirrel sat on Hillary’s windowsill.  In its jaws, it held a miniature transmitter disguised to look like an acorn.  When the squirrel bit, the radio beside Fistlock crackled again.

Fistlock let the binoculars dangle from their strap around his neck.  “The wizards sent them instructions on how to dream-slip. If we can get our hands on that, then maybe I can find a way to get back to Gabendoor permanently. We’ll wait…”

Fistlock’s words trailed off when he heard the long low growling off to his right. “Nice, Brutus,” Fistlock said as he slowly turned toward the dog.  The rottweiler took a step closer.  Saliva dripped from its mouth.

There were only a few things that Fistlock feared, either in this world or in Gabendoor.  This dog was one of them. Fistlock’s journey to earth had been harrowing. He had escaped Crystal Mountain by opening a portal to transport him across time and space. When Crystal Mountain exploded, the portal collapsed. He was lucky that his magic worked on earth, at least until the last of it fizzled out.  It hadn’t been hard to locate Windslow and Hillary, and Fistlock was lucky that a house only a few blocks away from the Summerfield’s was available. His luck ran out when Brutus, the neighbor’s dog, took an immediate dislike to the earth-bound, past ruler of Gabendoor.

“Easy, poochie,” Fistlock said. He backed up another step and grabbed Angstrom, yanking his assistant in front of him.

Brutus crouched low. The hair between his shoulder blades bristled. The black and tan hair along his mouth wrinkled as he drew his lips back further, exposing more of his sharp white teeth.

Fistlock’s choice in picking a direction to run, matched his choice in clothing.  He let go of Angstrom, spun around and ran straight for the bushes. He tried not to yell as the plants ripped at his green Hawaiian shirt and cut into his arms. His Bermuda shorts offered as much protection for his bony legs as his rubber sandals gave his feet.  Cursing under his breath, he turned back to see Angstrom rubbing the dog’s ears.  Brutus’s long pink tongue slurped Angstrom’s wrist.  “We need to make plans,” Fistlock hissed.  “Get our equipment and meet me back at the house.”

#

“I don’t like you going alone,” Windslow said and folded Haggerwolf’s note back up. He stuffed it into his book bag.  “Your letter is next.  We’ve checked everything else.”

Hillary sighed but didn’t say anything.  She settled next to the book lying on her bed. The cover lay open, along with seven or eight blank pages.  They had both tried to turn more pages, but neither of them had success. They decided it must work like the Book of Second Chances.  Words only showed up in that book after Windslow or Hillary had done something related to its magic.

“Touch your dad’s letter to the book and see if words show up again,” Windslow suggested.

Hillary tried, but nothing happened.

Windslow rolled his chair closer to Hillary. “The only thing left is for you to read your letter.  Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Hillary said and gave her stepbrother a soft smile.  “I’d rather have you with me.”  Hillary held the envelope in her lap and kept turning it over and over as she spoke. “I liked it when we were a family.  I was really little when dad left, but I remember being happy when he was there, and sad when he was gone.” She looked toward her window and wiped her eyes with her shirtsleeve.  “Sometimes I’d almost forget about him and then he’d call or send me a letter.  I’d always get excited about seeing him but he never came--not once that I can remember.  So I started hating him. I wanted to forget him.  I’d get rid of the memories and the hurt, and then one of these letters would show up.”

“Is that when you stopped reading them?” Windslow asked.

Hillary nodded.  “That’s when I made my promise too.”

“Hillary?”

“What?”

“A page just turned.”

Hillary grabbed the book and twisted it so both she and her brother could read the faint words that slowly darkened across the page.

“Well, at least it’s not full of rhymes,” Windslow said.  “But I understand about as much of this as I did the last time.  I wish Molly were here to translate it for us.  I’m still worried about her.”

“I almost wish it did say something about her,” Hillary said.  “Can you remember any more about your dream?”

Windslow shook his head.

“I don’t know what the stuff about the clay means, but I think the last part is about us.”

Windslow pointed at the envelope in Hillary’s lap. “I think it’s time you broke a promise.”

Hillary looked at him and nodded.  With shaking hands she held up the envelope.  After blowing out a deep breath she tore off  the end and pulled out her father’s letter.

Windslow waited silently as his sister read.  When she was done, she looked up at him.

“He wants to come and visit me. He included his email address so I can send him an answer and so we can get to know each other online first.”

“Well?” Windslow asked.

“I don’t know!” Hillary crumpled the letter in her hand.  She brought both fists to head and closed her eyes.  “I’m scared, Windslow.”

“Look at me.”

When Hillary opened her eyes, she smiled.  Windslow had his eyes crossed, his head tilted to the side and his lips twisted in a goofy expression. “Good,” he said and gave her a normal smile. “See? You can deal with his letter and still smile.  Whenever thinking of him makes you sad or scared, remember that now you have a brother on your side.”

“And he’s the best brother in the world,” Hillary said.  She leaned forward and nearly crushed Windslow with her hug.

“Enough.  I can’t breathe.  I’m not Jimmy Heartache.”

“And the biggest jerk, too,” Hillary said. After pushing herself away, she gave him a punch on the arm.  “One more crack about Jimmy and they’ll call you black-eyed Summerfield.”

Windslow made his cross-eyed face again.  “All right, Daughter of the Mountain Breeze. We’ve got some planning to do.”

#

This is Windslow. Over.

“Over what?” Hillary asked. She pressed her back against the garage wall. The gravel under her feet crunched when she took a sideways step to get past one of the shrubs her mother had planted there. In fifteen minutes it would be midnight. Even though the moon shone bright, it was hard to see on the shadowed side of the garage.

Windslow to Hillary.

“I’m here,” Hillary said into the small two way radio. 

If you can hear me, push the red button when you talk.

Hillary huffed, put her thumb on the red button and pressed.  “You don’t have to talk so loud.”

I’m whispering. Turn your volume down.  Twist the black button.

Hillary twisted the button and the radio hissed. She twisted it the other way until it clicked and then turned it back a bit.

It’s nearly midnight.

“Yes,” Hillary said. “I’ve got my watch on.  Be quiet unless I need you.”  She waited for a second, expecting Windslow to answer. When he didn’t, she put the radio in the pocket of her blue flannel shirt.

“Hi.  It’s me,” a voice said from the back of the garage.

Hillary spun around.  “What are you doing here?”

“Your brother called me,” Jimmy said.  Dressed in blue jeans and a black sweatshirt, he blended into the shadows. “He was worried about you. He wouldn’t say what you two were up to, but asked me to keep an eye on you in case you needed help. I figured I might scare you if I stayed hidden.”

“I don’t need help. What did Windslow say to you?”

“Just that you needed to do something at midnight. He said it had something to do with another magic trick he was setting up.”

“That’s right, but I don’t want help. Go home.”

“Hillary, I don’t think this is a magic trick. I don’t think the letter was a trick either.  I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not leaving.”

Windslow to Hillary. Over, the radio hissed.

“What!” Hillary said.  “What?” she said again, this time remembering to press the red button.

It’s time.

“Why did you call Jimmy?”

Um… hiss…  Because… hiss…

“Windslow!” Hillary said and pressed even harder on the button.

Jimmy pointed at a small light at the top of the radio. “That means your battery is almost dead. He can’t hear you.”

“Great!” Hillary said. She switched the radio off and shoved it into a small backpack slung over her shoulder.  “Stay here.”

Hillary slid along the edge of the garage until she got to the corner. She looked across her yard and both ways down the street.  Everything was quiet so she ran to the shrubs near the sidewalk. She didn’t look back, but knew Jimmy was right behind her.  She ducked behind the bushes, looked up and then ran across the street.  After jogging a block, she reached the park and headed for the small pond back behind the picnic area.

“I knew it didn’t have anything to do with a magic trick,” Jimmy said. He picked up a small stone and threw it at the image of the full moon, reflected in the mirror smooth water. Just after his stone splashed, a loud “ger-blunk” sounded in the tall rushes off to his side. He took a quick step back.

“Don’t do stuff like that,” Hillary scolded.  “The pond has to be undisturbed. Now I have to wait for the ripples to go away.  Just stand in one spot and keep your hands in your pockets.”

Jimmy shrugged, and did as she asked.

Hillary tossed her backpack on the ground and knelt down beside it. Jimmy stayed silent, but moved closer to watch.

“Candle from earth,” Hillary said. She pulled a thick, fat yellow candle from her backpack and then the small blue pouch the wizards had given her. She let go of it and it hovered motionless in the air beside her backpack.  “Don’t say anything,” she said, glancing at Jimmy.

He closed his mouth and squatted down beside her.

“Amplified light from the universe,” Hillary said and took out a small magnifying glass.

“You can’t light a candle with that,” Jimmy said. “Here. I have a book of matches.”

Hillary scowled.

Jimmy shoved his hand back into his pocket.

“Magic of Gabendoor,” Hillary said. She put the magnifying glass on the ground and grabbed her blue pouch.  After unzipping it, she reached inside and took out a small brass lipstick tube. She looked up at Jimmy.  “It came with Windslow’s magic kit he got for Christmas.”  She didn’t care if Jimmy believed her or not.  She was glad he was here, but knew it was just going to complicate things.

The tube had only a few drops of black magic goo left, from the sample she had taken from Fistlock’s pond inside Crystal Mountain in their last adventure there.  She hoped it was enough.

After handing the cap to Jimmy, Hillary picked up the magnifying glass and held it over the candle wick. Carefully she let one drop of goo drip onto the lens. “Cap it,” she said and handed the tube to Jimmy.

The drip turned green and flowed like thin oil over the glass lens of the magnifying glass. Hillary repositioned the lens until a green flame sprung from the candle.

“Cool,” Jimmy said.

Hillary ignored him and put the magnifying glass away.  “Chart of our path,” Hillary said and spread a star-map out on the grass. She reached into her backpack and removed a handful of quarter-inch wide rubber bands.   “Bound to the way,” she said and arranged them on the map so they encircled a small dot, just past the constellation Cassiopeia.

Jimmy reached out and straightened up the pile of rubber bands. Hillary slapped his hand and he quickly pulled it back. “Just trying to help,” he said.

“Be quiet!” Hillary said. “I have to do this right or the trick won’t work. Windslow’s magic kit says you have to do this on the night of the full moon or the day before or after. You only get one try and next month will be too late.”

“Ya. Sure.  Right there in the instructions, I--”

“Shush!”

“Sorry!”

“SHUT UP!”

Jimmy nodded.

She picked up the candle and tipped it, letting the wax drip onto the map and rubber bands. When there was enough to hold the bands in place, she put the candle back down.

The wind rustled the tree branches and Jimmy looked up. Hillary glanced at the pond and was relieved to see that the rushes were bending in the light wind, but the pond’s surface was like glass. She took Windslow’s Swiss army knife from her backpack and opened the smallest blade. “Help me carry these to the pond,” she said to Jimmy. “You carry the candle. Don’t let it blow out.”

Careful not to disturb the rubber bands, Hillary slid the map across the grass to the small lip of gravel at the pond’s edge. She didn’t stop pulling until the map floated on the smooth surface. “Hold the candle in front of me,” she instructed Jimmy.

In the center of the pond, the moon’s reflection brightened. The wind puffed stronger, ignoring the water but pushing hard at the rushes, bending them over.  The map floated away from shore.

“Cool,” Jimmy said again.

Hillary ignored him. “Sealed in a pact, blood brings it back,” Hillary whispered.  Her hand shook as she used Windslow’s knife to prick her fingertip. She wanted to put the cut finger in her mouth, but instead held her finger up, waiting for the map to float into place.  “Hold the candle right here,” she told Jimmy and motioned with her other hand. When the map reached the image of the moon, Hillary held her finger over the candle.  A single drip of blood from her finger sizzled when it hit the green candle flame. A strong gust of wind swept across the pond. It kicked up bits of grass and sticks as it swirled around Hillary and Jimmy. The wind blew harder and Jimmy put his arm across his face.  He moved to use his body to shelter Hillary.  She pushed him away.

Waves shattered the pond’s surface, and bits of leaves swirled in the air. The night turned darker and Hillary looked up. Ink black clouds moved across the moon.

“What’s happening?” Jimmy asked, still holding his arm across his face.

“I don’t know,” Hillary said.  She stood and raised her arms over her head, following the last instructions from Haggerwolf’s note.  Closing her eyes to keep dirt from blowing into them, she turned her face to the wind and let it play with the curls of her red hair. She felt excitement in the air and a tingling around her wrist.  When the tingling stopped, she sensed something else.  The hair on the back of her neck prickled just before a shoulder plowed into her, throwing her into the water. 

Someone pulled at her arm. Hillary struggled, her head underwater.  Through her panic she realized someone was holding her under.  She yanked and kicked as her breath began to run out. Something shoved against her, and the weight on her stomach disappeared. Clawing at the water she twisted around and splashed to her feet.  Coughing, she stumbled when something hit her from behind. She managed to stay on her feet and struggled to the shore.  She turned to the sound of splashing and yells behind her, and saw Jimmy wrestling with someone in the water. Frantic, Hillary looked around and spotted her backpack. She grabbed the nearly empty bag and knelt by the pond.  She scooped up double handfuls of gravel and dumped the stones into her bag. Holding the straps in both hands she moved into the water and swung.

Jimmy fell backward, free from the attacker. A body floated on the pond, face down with arms outstretched and legs spread.  The wind stopped, the moon pushed away the clouds.  Hillary and Jimmy watched as the body flattened, turning into a shadow that looked like oil floating on the water. When the ripples settled, the shadow disappeared.

“What’s going on?” Jimmy asked and wiped his hand across his face.

“I don’t know,” Hillary said and waded back to shore.  “I was just standing there with my eyes shut and suddenly I was in the water.”

“Someone ran up from behind us and tackled you,” Jimmy said. “He had his knee in your stomach and was holding you under. I think it was Angstrom. I saw his face for a second when I was fighting with him. But, he… he turned into…”

“He turned into a shadow creature,” Hillary said. “At least that’s what I think. He was a shadow creature to begin with; a trundle-wraith.  Fistlock left one here before.  His name was Panderflip before Fistlock changed him.”

“Who’s Fistlock, and what do you mean, a shadow creature? Hillary, this isn’t some dumb trick from a magic kit Windslow got for Christmas. Something real happened.  What did happen?” he asked.  “What was all that stuff with the map about?”

“It was about making these,” Hillary said and held up her arm.  A handful of rubber bands encircling her wrist gave off a faint green glow.

“I think we should call the police,” Jimmy said.

“We’re not going to do that.”  Hillary glared at him and shook her head before she dumped the gravel from her backpack.  “How would we explain all this?  And then they’d have a lot of questions about this too,” she said and held up her blue pouch.  She let go and it hovered in front of Jimmy’s face.  “Watch.  Dry clothes,” she said. 

Jimmy stepped back as Hillary pulled on the corners of her pouch, making it bigger. When it was the size of a small suitcase, she unzipped it and pulled out blue jeans, a flannel shirt and even tennis shoes that matched the wet ones she wore.  She grinned at Jimmy’s expression when she pulled out jeans, a black sweatshirt and shoes for him.  “I’ll go change in the bushes,” she told him. “Leave your wet clothes in a pile. I’ll put them in my pouch.  We better hurry before someone comes or our parents discover us missing.”

Jimmy nodded.  When Hillary turned and headed for the bushes, he spotted something near the water’s edge.  After a quick glance over his shoulder, he grabbed the floating rubber band and slipped it into his pocket.