|| 30 ||

FINDING HARRIET’S ADDRESS TURNED OUT to be ridiculously simple. It was right there in the local phone book. Sophie went home so she could shower, change clothes, and grab something to eat. A couple of hours later, she returned and drove us to a small neighborhood on the other side of the marina and parked half a block away from a gray cottage with white trim and a tiny, neat front lawn. We regarded it in the peaceful light of the afternoon.

“That’s her lair, huh?” Sophie’s eyes narrowed.

“Let’s go check the shop, and if she’s not there we’ll come back here when it’s dark,” I said.

Sophie parked on Main Street near Harriet’s apothecary shop. Down the street, we saw a group of Tapestry High kids herd into the café. Andy Jones’s head bobbed above the rest.

“Soo, things didn’t work out with Andy, huh?” I said. I raised an eyebrow at Sophie and almost grinned.

“Seriously? You’re going to bring that up now?” Sophie rolled her eyes, but splotchy red spots bloomed on her cheeks.

“Yeah, you’re right. Bad timing.” Her blush was satisfaction enough for me. For the moment, anyway.

I reached for the car door and eyed the office building that housed Harriet’s shop. The door that Mason had kicked in had a new handle, and fresh, unpainted wood showed where the frame had been repaired. My powers coursed through me, like I’d just downed about twenty espressos. I pictured Ang and Mason’s still bodies, and my skin prickled with the anticipation of unleashing some of the energy. “Well, we might as well go up there.”

“Wait,” Sophie said. “What are we going to do if she’s there?”

“You’re going to do whatever you can with that Spiderman net-throwing ability you’ve developed. Trap her, use it as a shield, anything. And I’m going to pummel her with everything I’ve got.”

We crept up two dim flights of stairs. We were ready to fight, but no sense tipping her off to our arrival. When we got to the top of the stairs, we paused for a moment, trying to see through the window on the shop’s door.

“Dark,” I said, and strode up to the door so I could cup my hands against the glass and peer through. The door to the back room stood open, and that room was dark as well. “She’s not here.”

“Darn it,” Sophie muttered. “I’m so in the mood to kick some butt.”

I knew exactly how she felt.

* * *

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening hunched over my laptop, combing the message boards for anything that might help us. I finally gave up when Sophie called me, my eyes tired and my neck aching from sitting there so long. When she came to get me after dark that night, I suggested bringing coffee to our stakeout. But she shook her head. “No way I’m going to fall asleep,” she said. “Plus, it’ll just make me have to pee really bad.”

With my Pyxis abilities electrifying every cell, I knew drowsiness wouldn’t be a problem for me, either. Summer solstice was tomorrow. I kept looking down at my arms, expecting to see evidence of the powers surging under my skin. I was so amped up, I seriously wouldn’t have been too surprised if I’d started glowing. But my arms, and the rest of me, remained ordinary-looking. Good thing, really. It would be hard to sneak up on Harriet at night as Lightbulb Girl.

As before, we parked half a block away from Harriet’s cottage. With no streetlights to illuminate the neighborhood, we had to sit for a few minutes to let our eyes adjust. Harriet’s block was lined with cottages similar to hers. All the yards were well-kept, and I imagined most of the houses were occupied by older single people like her.

Sophie broke the silence. “I’m, uh, sorry about Andy.”

“What?” I looked at her. The curtain of her hair cast her face in shadow.

“I was a total jerkface about him, and I’m sorry,” she said.

I snorted. “You’re forgiven. If you don’t ruin my brother,” I said.

“Ruin?” she said, trying to sound offended.

“Oh come on, you know you tend to eat ‘em up and spit ‘em out.” I snorted a laugh. Then my voice turned serious. “Don’t you dare do that with Bradley.”

“He’s different.” Her voice was as soft as I’d ever heard it.

I held up my palm and snickered. “Okay, let’s just not go there.”

The porch light of the house next to Harriet’s winked out, and I knew that was our cue.

“Let’s see if the wicked witch is home,” I said.

We slipped from the car and pressed the doors closed, trying not to slam them. Keeping to the shadows, we stole through the night. My heart seemed to wing around in my chest like a nervous parakeet.

Sophie followed me down the dark strip of lawn along the side of Harriet’s house. We saw no lights in any of the windows, so we circled to the unfenced backyard.

The garage, Sophie whispered through our link, and pointed at the small detached building on the other side of the house. I nodded.

We stood on tiptoe to peek inside high, grimy windows of the one-car garage. It was empty except for a lawnmower, some yard tools, and a stack of boxes.

I sighed. “She’s not here.”

Sophie winced and pressed her palm to her temple.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“My head. It’s like a weird tearing sensation in the middle of my brain. It’s been getting worse all day.”

My stomach twisted. I was pretty sure I knew what was causing Sophie’s headaches. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, it’ll pass in a minute. What now? Should we wait and see if she comes back?” Sophie whispered. I could barely make out her face in the dark. She watched me with an unblinking gaze, waiting for me to decide our next move.

I shook my head. “I don’t think she’s out playing bridge with friends. No. We can’t wait. We’re going to find her.”

“Check her store again?”

“No,” I started back around to the front of the house, and Sophie followed. “I think I know where she is.” Actually, now I was sure. It was almost as if my heightened Pyxis abilities helped me home in on my nemesis. She was growing powerful, too, though. Would she sense me coming?

We settled back in the Honda, and I told Sophie where to go. As she drove, my fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest, and I couldn’t stop my foot from jiggling.

Sophie turned down the dirt road leading to the cove, then pulled over and killed the engine. We got out of the car, and I shivered. It wasn’t cold out. In fact, it was a good deal warmer than the nighttime should have been in the middle of June. No, it wasn’t chill that rippled through me, but anticipation.

I beckoned Sophie to follow me. “I want to go through here straight into the meadow instead of approaching from the beach,” I said.

Her hands were working at her sides, her fingers curling and uncurling in fists.

“Get ready to do whatever it is that keeps Harriet from influencing you.”

I turned and began picking my way through brush and trees. Our footsteps muffled against the carpet of pine needles and moss, we made almost no sound as we drew closer to the meadow. My powers were humming within me, vibrating in every molecule of my body. I built up as much white influence as I could hold.

We were approaching the point where the back of the meadow met the tree line, and I paused. Sophie stopped beside me. We stood hidden within the trees, but with a wide view of the meadow. Both of us scanned the area.

You sure she’s here? Sophie asked.

I’m sure, I said. But what if Harriet wasn’t alone?

Just as I started to think we should move closer to the beach, I smelled it. It was faint, but unmistakable. The rotting, burned smell that was like the breath of death.

Shadows seemed to slide and churn around the plants in the meadow. My heart clenched at the thought of the delicate flowers and grasses withering under those murky shapes. I squinted, straining to make out forms in the darkness. A burst of maroon light, the color of dried blood, sped across the sky. Then another, and another. I remembered the pretty twilight rainbows Mason had created. These ones were an ugly, violent color. Something about them made my stomach roll with nausea. The growing smell of death didn’t help.

The net we made. It’s . . . oh no, that’s why my head’s been hurting so bad. Sophie’s alarm bolted through my mind. Corinne, what are those things? I followed her gaze, and realized that in the second or so I’d been staring at the sky, the shadows in the meadow had taken shape.

Horror chilled me as the shadows grew taller, unfolding to waist height, then chest height, and then they were as tall as me. And they looked like. . . . No, this wasn’t supposed to happen yet.

I unleashed the wave of white influence I’d been holding, and followed it with another wave of influences. No time to perfect a blend.

I reached into the mass of figures in front of us, searching for the heart of whatever propelled them so I could destroy it. But every time I tried, my probe slid away like a fried egg off a nonstick pan.

Sophie, you have to help me— I began, but a voice crept across the darkness.

“Pyxis,” it said, gravely and deep, barely a human woman’s voice. “Meet my army.”