CHAPTER TWELVE

An Alarming Letter

I gasped. “Mrs. Hart, I can hear you.”

I don’t know which one of us was more excited. Despite having Esther, Odile, and Clovis to translate, I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sound of her voice. “You’re okay? Really?”

“I’m fine, Peter. Better than fine, actually. Honey Bun is a young dog. I have no more aches and pains from middle age. Even the arthritis in my knee is gone.” Her voice softened. “I’d forgotten what being young and active was like.”

“You won’t be a dog forever. We’ll find a way to help you.”

“I’m not worried. For now, more important events concern us. At least I’m useful. Renny and I have managed to keep Marie’s cooking pot full.”

“Never imagined you as the outdoorsy type.”

“Never imagined you as a shaman. Apparently, life had surprises in store for both of us.”

I couldn’t argue. We returned to the Benoit’s. Odile waited on the dock. Her eyes shone when I told her I heard Mrs. Hart now.

“Excellent, Peter. You have placed your feet on the white road.”

Odile was even more pleased when I conjured a gator in the front yard. I flushed with pride as she ran her sensitive hands over the rough hide and declared the reptile indistinguishable from a real one.

All the little Benoit’s crowded around. Georges gawked. “Can I touch it?”

“Better than that,” I said. “How about a ride?”

A combined squeal of delight burst out. Esther, T. Chris, Luc, and Georges crowded onto the gator’s back. Little Liliane perched happily on the tail. “Make it go fast,” she shrieked. I galumphed the creature around the yard. The kids made so much noise no one noticed the Sweet Marie had arrived until Chris pulled to the dock and shouted, “What’s going on?”

“Peter made the children a gator,” said Marie. “Isn’t that nice?”

Chris shrugged. “Oh, all right then.”

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating—the people here are crazy.

****

From then on I worked hard every day recreating real plants and animals for Clovis. In the evening, the shaman now spent time sequestered in the swamp, attending to the mystical preparations for opening the door. I offered to help, but he refused saying the magic was beyond my level of comprehension, and must be done alone. Frankly, I was relieved, still not anxious to take the final step. After dinner, the kids always insisted I conjure a gator to ride. I didn’t mind. The spell was good practice.

Summer was nearly over, although you couldn’t tell from the high heat and humidity. The weather didn’t bother me now. Chris declared I had become a real swamper. Never having felt much attached to a place before, his words were gratifying.

School would soon start again for all the Benoit children except Liliane who was too young. T. Chris expressed a very vocal aversion to sitting all day in a classroom and fought a losing battle with his mother to stay home with Esther.

“She needs my help,” he insisted.

Marie wasn’t moved. “Esther is the most self-sufficient girl I know. She memorized the location of everything on the property from the house to each blade of grass. She’s already a big help to me in the kitchen. She does not need you to lead her around.”

“I could help Mamere.”

“Who is more self-sufficient then Esther.”

Esther patted his arm. “It was worth a shot.”

Mrs. Hart barked a warning. Her sharp ears had discerned the sound of a boat engine, but the Sweet Marie and pirogue were both tied to the dock. Amelie, Renny, Mrs. Hart, Esther, and I hid inside the cabin while Chris went to the water to await the visitor.

Renny peered out the window as a boat turned into the channel. “That’s Delmar Purdy.” Sure enough, the portly figure at the tiller was unmistakable. We went to greet him.

“What news, Delmar?” called Chris.

Mr. Purdy waved an envelope. “A letter for the Marchand’s arrived this morning.”

“It must be from Ruby,” yelped Amelie with excitement. “She’s the only one who knows we’re here.”

Marie invited Delmar for supper, but he refused the invitation with regret as his wife expected his return. He turned the boat around and gunned the engine.

We all followed Amelie to the porch and got comfortable as she tore open the envelope. “The letter is from Ruby,” she confirmed happily, skimming over the page. Her delight rapidly progressed to concern. “Pike is in New Orleans.”

Amelie read aloud. “Dear Amelie, we have new trouble in the house. Delphine was right steamed after you escaped. As I reckon you know by now she posted a reward for your return and set all the blame on Renny. Word came several days later you were spotted near the swamp, but the trail went cold. The police now think you snuck out by boat, maybe into Texas.”

“The trustees came down hard on Delphine when you disappeared. I hoped they’d see through her phony act as she pretends to be all upset-like and worried for your safety, but so far they haven’t gone against her. I think they are suspicious, though. They stay on Delphine to keep up the search. No more fancy dinner parties for her. They also ordered the police to bring you to them first after you’re found. Delphine was very unhappy about that. I hoped she would cut her losses and move on, but no such luck. As I said, we got more troubles and worse than before.”

“Five days ago the trustees were due to arrive for the monthly accounting. This time Delphine had me bring the coffee pot into the study, insisting she would pour for them herself which isn’t like her at all. A short time later I heard her yelling and wanting to know if someone had been in there. I reckon she opened the safe and found the potion book missing. She must have planned to use one of the recipes to keep the trustees under her thumb.”

“Delphine pitched a royal fit, smashing and throwing things, but nothing was to be done. She managed to get through the meeting and then tore up both your room and Renny’s. She didn’t find the potion book, of course, but instead came downstairs with an old knapsack.”

I slapped my forehead. “I forgot. I stuffed it under Renny’s bed. Nothing much was inside—” My face paled with a sudden realization. “Except the Atlanta newspaper with our pictures.”

“Keep reading,” urged Odile.

Amelie took up the letter again. “Delphine immediate shut herself in the study and made a telephone call. Two days later came a knock at the door and a man in a fedora arrived. Since he appeared, an icy chill invaded the house not even the heat of my kitchen can chase away. I don’t know what evil this man brings, but can’t stay under the same roof. I am going home and will remain there until hearing from you. Keep safe, love Ruby.”

Renny scowled. “Delphine teamed with the devil himself.”

“Wait,” Amelie cautioned. “Ruby added a P.S at the end. She writes on her way to the post office, she ran into our milkman. He asked if Ruby would like to adjust her standing order because the house appeared deserted. He assumed Delphine was out of town. Ruby returned to see for herself and he was right. Even the guards were gone.” The same thought crossed all our minds at once. Pike was on his way here.

I was angry and upset. “It’s my fault. I should have remembered the newspaper. The article talked all about the reward and how to contact Pike.”

Renny offered consolation. “Don’t blame yourself. Pike knows where we’ve been, not where we are now.”

The stupidity of my actions weighed heavily. “How long will that last?”

“Not long,” answered Odile. She rubbed her chin. “I would sorely like to know what those two plan.”

Renny offered to sneak into town and pick up their trail, but Odile shook her head. “Too dangerous, and they have too great a head start. We must think of another way.”

The discussion continued through dinner and late into the evening. Plans were made and discarded until Marie’s sharp eyes spotted Georges stifling a yawn. “We will not decide tonight and the children must go to bed.” She glared at her son. “No argument.” He clapped his mouth shut. None of the Benoit children ever won against Marie.

Esther and I said goodnight and went with Odile to her cabin. The shaman busied in her work area, while Esther went right to bed. I wandered to the porch and sat in a rocker. For once the sky was free of summer haze and a comfortable breeze blew through the bayou.

I had a clear view of the stars. Funny how the exact same sky appeared over kids in New Brunswick and yet New Jersey seemed a million miles from there. Their minds would be on buying supplies for the new school year while mine was on the best way to kill an unkillable demon. A sudden movement near the house drew my attention. Clearly visible in the moonlight, Amelie strolled to the cabin.

“You’re up late,” I said.

She sat next to me. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Thinking of Delphine?”

“No. Thinking of Delphine with a knife through her heart. My knife, actually. Usually such a pleasant vision is enough to lull me to sleep, but not tonight. Did Esther go to bed?”

“She must be sawing logs, otherwise, she’d be out here bugging us.”

Amelie giggled. “Sounds like Esther, all right. She is better, don’t you think?”

“Esther?”

“Yes. She was so thin and pale when she arrived, but now can keep pace with all the Benoit children, and that’s saying something. Esther is happy here. I think the bayou agrees with her.” She regarded me sharply. “I think the bayou agrees with you, too.”

I shrugged. “I guess so. The heat doesn’t bother me.”

“What about the gators,” she teased.

“We’re practically best friends.”

“In some aspects,” Amelie scolded, “you remain a terrible liar.” She was thoughtful for a moment and then asked, “Does this mean you will stay after everything is over?”

I was taken aback by her question. “I-I don’t know. I hadn’t planned that far. Be kind of hard to hunt like Chris,” I snorted in disgust, “when no one lets me near a gun.”

“Guns aren’t everything.” Amelie sounded suspiciously like Odile. “You don’t have to be a swamper. Plenty of opportunities for a budding shaman exist in New Orleans.”

I considered her words. A shaman in New Orleans was a long way from an orphan boy in New Brunswick. My intention had always been to live a life of free abandon with no ties, but a long time had passed since I toyed with the idea of moving on. Despite the heat and humidity and the lurking danger life was…well….comfortable here. I had friends who treated me like family. I had Amelie.

The color rose in my cheeks. Where did that remark come from? I was grateful for the darkness on the porch. Despite Esther’s teasing, Amelie was absolutely just another friend. I never tried to kiss her. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.

Okay, the thought occasionally crossed my mind this summer, maybe more than occasionally. As much as I enjoyed my sessions with Clovis, my heart always sped at the sight of Amelie waiting for me in Marie’s garden at the end of the day. I never had a friend to talk to before and the girls I had known in New Brunswick were giddy and silly—a bunch of dizzy dames who circled rich boys like Chauncey Edwards as if they were orbiting moons. I never carried a torch for any of them, but Amelie was special, half cultured young Southern belle, half fearless warrior. She had grace and charm, but wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. With Amelie by my side I felt different, not like a kid anymore.

Kissing her, however, was out of the question. The opportunity never presented itself. At least, I didn’t think so. Not that I would mind kissing her. I mean if she wanted to and stuff, I would certainly try. Just to be polite and all…On the other hand, she still considered herself my bodyguard, so was always armed. A razor-sharp dagger is more than a little intimidating.

As Amelie gazed across the yard I stole a glance at her from the corner of my eye. I wondered idly if she kissed other boys. She probably had. She was rich and beautiful and had been to lots of fancy parties in New Orleans. I bet all they did was dance and then kiss each other. Kissing was probably another social requirement for well-bred young ladies. Schools offered classes along with hand-to-hand combat.

If Amelie wanted to kiss me, how would I know? Would she show signs? My agitation grew. People of Amelie’s social status knew all the subtle indications of a girl’s interest. A poor slob like me didn’t have a clue.

I could ask Renny for advice. He was closer to Amelie than anyone and had an active social life in New Orleans. Renny was also a bit of a rake. He probably got his face slapped more than once, which didn’t bode well for his counsel.

Should I ask his permission to kiss her first? She was his sister, after all. What would I say? I could tell him Amelie seemed to like me and I liked her, for sure a lot. What if Renny didn’t approve? I swallowed nervously. What if he did?

I tugged at my shirt collar. Despite the cooling breeze, the porch suddenly got uncomfortably warm. I stifled a groan. Why did life have to be so complicated?

As Amelie continued to peer across the yard, her shoulders suddenly stiffened. With a subtle movement she reached over and gently squeezed my hand. Panic shot through me. Was this the sign? What do I do? Should I say something? Yes…I should say something. I cleared my throat.

“Shhh,” she said.

Okay, don’t talk. Is silence part of the routine? Maybe words spoil the moment. You’re spoiling it now you idiot, my mind screamed, because you don’t know what to do. If you miss this chance you may not get another. I took a deep breath, puckered up, and learned toward her. Suddenly, she turned her face in my direction and we clunked noses.

“What are you doing,” she hissed.

I jerked my head back. “What? Me? Nothing. What are you doing?”

Amelie motioned across the yard. “I was giving you a signal. Something’s moving over there.”

“I knew that. Um…where exactly did you mean?”

Amelie grasped her dagger. “By the big cypress. Wait here.”

“I’ll go with you…”

She was fast. By the time I got to my feet, Amelie had melted into the dark. I stifled a curse and peered fixedly into the shadows, but saw nothing. As I debated whether to follow, a strange rustling attracted my attention.

“Amelie?” I whispered. “Is that you?”

Skritch…skritch…skritch

I followed the sound around the corner of the cabin. For a moment nothing stirred and then a rat bounded out of the bushes and skittered along the wall. Tiny claws pawed frantically at the siding until securing a foothold. The rat made a beeline for Esther’s window. Because of the heat, the glass pane was open. The single barrier separating the rat from entry into the room was a flimsy metal screen. I grabbed a handful of pebbles and flung hard.

“Scat,” I yelled.

The stones clattered against the siding, stopping the rat’s advance. The head rotated toward me. Two yellow glowing embers burned deep within the eye sockets. The upper lip curled back to bare glistening teeth. With a maniacal screech, the rat attacked the screen.

I bolted to the window. “Get way from there!”

In seconds, the rat ripped a quarter-size hole, forcing through its head. Jagged metal edges from the torn screen dug into the hide leaving a sticky trail of blood. The rat ignored the gaping wounds and with frenzied thrashing, wiggled through a shoulder. I snatched at the tail and jerked hard. The rodent let out a horrific shriek.

Esther’s frightened voice called inside the cabin, “Peter, what’s going on?”

“Run!” I shouted, struggling to hold the thrashing tail. “Get Odile!”

Esther bounded from the bed. At the loss of the quarry, the rat exploded in rage, writhing and twisting in my grip. I slammed the body against the side of the cabin, and heard a bone crack, but the berserk rodent wasn’t affected. The spine bent nearly in half, twisting the neck around. Needle-like teeth sunk into my wrist. I yelled and shook off the rat. It pounced at my leg, biting and scratching. Mrs. Hart hurtled around the corner with a snarling growl. Jaws snapped around the rat, yanking it away.

“Peter!” Amelie dashed across the yard, dagger in hand. “Throw it against the wall.”

Dodging gnashing teeth, I snatched at the tail. Mrs. Hart let go and I flung the rat hard against the cabin. Amelie let fly with the blade, pinning the creature helplessly to the wood siding. The rat flailed mindlessly, yellow eyes burning. Blood gushed down the wall, as the jerky movements caused the dagger to slice through the internal organs.

“Why is it not dead?” whispered Amelie in horror.

Odile ran from the house clutching a cleaver. “Cut off the head!” She tossed the knife to Amelie who caught it and in one smooth move let fly at the rat. The skull severed neatly from the shoulders and bounced to the ground, eyes aflame. The mouth sagged open. The rat expelled a final demented hiss before the light in the eyes died.

My legs shook. “What the hell was that thing?”

Odile spit on the body. “Foul, hellspawn creature of the dark—a conjurer’s work, to be sure.”

“Pike did this?”

“Peter!” Esther scooted around the corner.

“I told you to wait inside,” clucked Odile.

“I had to see if Peter was all right.”

“He’s not,” Amelie pointed to a blood trail on my leg. She glared at me. “Why didn’t you say something?”

I put on my best face. “I don’t feel a thing.” Actually, my leg throbbed like crazy.

“Ridiculous. You are lying again.”

“Enough,” ordered Odile. “The wound needs tending and we must tell the others. Can you walk to Chris’ house?” I assured her I could. She directed Amelie to bring the rat’s body.

We sat on the porch. The pain faded as Odile dabbed a cooling ointment on the wound. Esther insisted on holding the bandages as the shaman wrapped my leg. Everyone crowded around to peer at the carcass. Most of the low muttering was in Cajun patois. I heard Pike’s name a time or two. I couldn’t translate the rest of the words, but no dictionary was necessary to know they were all unflattering.

“The rat isn’t much like a city dweller,” said Marie, “nor from the swamp. It’s thin and scrawny, as if it hadn’t stopped to eat in a long time. What has Pike done?”

“We can merely guess,” Odile muttered.

“Perhaps not.”

Clovis had been silent throughout the discussion. After Amelie placed the rat on the floor, he merely gave the corpse a quick once-over. The rest of the time he sat in a chair, placed his fingertips together, and appeared to fall asleep.

Now he peered sharply at Esther. Something about the expression on the shaman’s face made me uneasy. Clovis rose from his seat and knelt down. He clasped Esther’s little hand between both of his.

“When Peter was in my cabin, you were able to see through his eyes. Miles into the bayou posed no problem. You are a very powerful see-er, my dear. More so than you realize.”

My suspicions rose. “What are you getting at?”

“Esther was alone with Pike long enough to get a good sense of him. The distance is considerable, but I believe she can use his eyes.”

Esther’s lip trembled. She drew back her hand. “I-I don’t want to.”

Odile crooned encouragement. “Cher, I know Clovis is asking much, but he’s right. You are a powerful see-er. You can do this.”

“Peter?” Esther appealed to me with her blind eyes. “I’m afraid.”

The jokes and teasing evaporated. All that remained was a scared little kid. I glowered at Clovis. “She doesn’t have to. You can’t make her.”

Clovis presented a stubborn set to his face. “No, I can’t, and wouldn’t ask if another method was at hand. I have no desire to frighten the child, but we need information. Pike and Delphine have joined forces, and this rat is part of the plan.”

“Surely,” pleaded Marie, appealing to her mother-in-law, “you can think of something else.”

Odile shook her head. “Clovis is right. If Pike and Delphine act together, we all know the danger is greater than before.” Her eyes dared anyone to contradict her. No one spoke, including me. I tried to think of a good argument or a satisfactory lie, but had nothing. The gift of the see-er was the only way.

Esther sunk into the seat, so small and helpless. “I’m not brave enough.” Her voice barely topped a whisper.

“That’s dumb,” I announced stoutly. “You’re brave enough to ride a gator. This’ll be a cinch.”

She shivered. “The gator wasn’t real, but Pike is. He’s all dark inside, not like you.”

“You’re plenty brave.” T. Chris jumped from the doorway. “As brave as any of us.”

Marie raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were asleep. How long have you been listening?”

“A bit.” His face turned red. “I’m not tired. I want to help.”

Chris nudged his wife. “Let the boy stay.” After a moment’s hesitation, Marie nodded and T. Chris happily settled between his parents.

Mrs. Hart trotted over to Esther. She patted her gently with her paw. “You’ve proven your courage time and again, my dear. I’m certain you can find Pike. Don’t worry. Peter and I will keep watch so no harm comes to you.”

“All right,” she said in a small voice. “I’ll try.”

Odile squeezed her hand. “Bon.”

Unconsciously, I reached for Esther’s other fist, balled tight. I covered her trembling fingers with mine. Esther’s fingers unclenched. Her unblinking stare focused somewhere in the distance. I wondered how long she would take to plug into a mind so far removed. I soon had my answer. Esther sucked in her breath. Her hand stopped trembling. She had keyed into something.

“I feel the path,” she said.

Odile leaned forward and prompted, “Tell us what you see.”

“Nothing yet…it’s all dark…”

We waited patiently as Esther forced herself deeper. For a long time she was silent. I suspected she summoned the courage to take the final step. I knew exactly how she felt. It’s one thing to state your intentions. It’s another to stand at the edge of the cliff and jump.

No one spoke. The tense atmosphere didn’t help Esther’s concentration so I squeezed her hand and whispered. “Tell Pike he’s a poophead.”

Esther relaxed and snickered. “I sure wish I could, but seeing doesn’t work that way.” Suddenly, she froze. “I’m inside Pike now. He’s on the grass…It’s dark. I can’t see much…someone is standing next to him. Come on, poophead,” she muttered to herself. “Turn around the other way…Hah! I see Delphine. Right over there.” Esther pointed with satisfaction, forgetting in this instance we were blinder than she. “Delphine is with a bunch of men.” She swallowed. “They got guns.”

“The guards from the house,” murmured Renny.

Esther leaned forward, peering into the darkness. Watching a blind girl squint was an odd experience. “Pike’s watching something in the grass…I can’t see—wait, it’s moving. It’s a rat’s butt. I can see the skinny tail.” Mrs. Hart emitted a low growl. Amelie and I exchanged anxious glances.

Clovis laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Esther, concentrate. What is Pike doing?”

Esther’s breathing quickened. “I’m not sure. He’s bent over the rat…it’s getting dark again.”

“Try harder, Esther. You must see.”

Her face showed the strain of holding the vision. “I can’t—hang on a second, the rat turned around. It—” She gasped. “Clovis, the eyes are all yellow…Pike’s holding something crumply like cloth.” She wrinkled her brow. “I’ve seen it before…it’s my old black dress, the one I left in the house. The rat is sniffing it. Now the nose is in the air. It’s running. Everyone’s following…there’s something else moving in the grass…something all around them.” Her head snapped back as if whatever tie bound her to Pike had broken. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold on. He’s gone.”

Odile squeezed her hand. “Cher, you were wonderful. I’m very proud of you.” Esther managed a tired smile.

“We’ve got big trouble, haven’t we?” I said.

Clovis nodded. “I’m afraid so. The dead rat was definitely under Pike’s spell. He is using the animals to track Esther. Although a rodent’s sense of smell is extremely acute, it would never follow a trail for so long. However, a conjurer with Pike’s power can heighten sensitivity a hundredfold, enough to sniff out an old scent through the air. Pike can then plant an imperative in the animal’s mind, forcing obedience.”

Amelie paled. “Pike knows where we are now?”

“Not yet, cher,” announced Renny with certainty, “or he would already pound at the door.”

Clovis agreed. “Pike is not like Esther. He can’t see through the rat’s eyes.” He prodded the corpse with his toe. “This one was probably ordered to return to Pike as soon as Esther’s location was verified. Fortunately, you killed it first.”

I swallowed. “But others will come.”

His jaw set in a hard line. “Oh, most assuredly, others will come.”

Odile drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “Time is not on our side. I must finish the potion as soon as possible. With Marie’s help—”

“Whatever you need,” she said.

Chris got to his feet. “Meanwhile, I will set traps around the house.” Renny immediately volunteered his assistance which Chris gratefully accepted.

T. Chris piped up. “Papa, I want to help, too.”

He tousled his son’s hair affectionately. “Bon. We will make them regret ever setting foot in our bayou.”

Clovis turned to Esther. “I have another idea. My dear, I need a lock of your hair.”

Concern flitted across her face. “What for?”

“A rat may be susceptible to a trap other than steel, if one uses the right bait.”

She stuck out her chin. “Take all you want.”

“You are very generous, but one small snip will do.” He borrowed Amelie’s knife and cut off one of Esther’s curls. He wrapped the hair in his handkerchief and then directed me to the pirogue. “Rats can swim. Chris and the others can set traps on land. You and I will cover the waterways.”

My excitement grew. Finally, a weapon—maybe something explosive, like a depth charge. I smiled envisioning a rat body launched into the sky, making a tracer trail with glowing eyes. Perhaps I could add a flammable after burn, detonating the rat in midair like fireworks. At trifle bloodthirsty, but heck, it wasn’t a cute little puppy.

As I pushed the pirogue from the dock, Clovis pointed across the channel. “We need to direct unwelcome guests on the waterway over there away from the house.”

I fidgeted with excitement. “How do we kill the rat?”

“Kill? There’s no point. The best we can do is misdirection.”

My hopes for a fiery rodent death plummeted. “Why?”

“Have you not paid attention all these weeks, Peter?” he scolded. “A conjurer is behind the magic, one who made an accord with a demon. The magic cannot be stopped by us. He cannot be stopped by us. One rat dies. He sends another. The way to bring the danger to an end is to kill the demon. Only then is Pike vulnerable. We need to buy time.”

“Sheesh, I’m sorry,” I stammered, taken aback by the outburst. “Why didn’t he save himself the trouble and control Esther from the beginning?”

“He can’t. Pike’s power is through his eyes which Esther can’t see. At any rate, once Esther stepped over the threshold to the Lower Worlds, she would be free of Pike’s commands. His spells are earthbound and can’t extend beyond the door.” Clovis punched me in the shoulder. “Cheer up, boy. The conjuror’s magic can still be affected by a good solid lie.”

My interest piqued. Granted, losing the exploding rat was a huge disappointment, but I was sorely interested to see what kind of lie Clovis devised. He directed me to the opposite shore. I anchored the pirogue and joined him at an old sweet bay tree. He stuffed the handkerchief containing the hair into a knot hole.

“Every rat under Pike’s control will be drawn to Esther’s scent,” said Clovis. “Their attention must be diverted.” He muttered softly. My skin tingled as magic permeated the air. “The prey is here. Esther’s scent surrounds the area.” The lie clicked into place. Clovis sighed and rubbed the nape of his neck. “The spell is done. Pike’s rat will be fooled into thinking Esther is near the tree.”

I motioned across the water. “What about Pike and Delphine? What will keep them from heading straight for the Benoit’s house?”

“Nothing.” Clovis replied bluntly. “All we’re trying to do is to confuse the rats long enough to give Esther and the others a chance to escape.”

“A few minutes head start doesn’t seem like much.”

“I know, my boy, but unfortunately, a distraction is all that can be done.”

We returned to the Benoit’s property and Clovis went to the house. I sat on the pier to think, my eyes straying across the channel. Esther’s hair wasn’t far. Confusing the rats long enough for everyone to escape was a long shot at best. Amelie and Esther sauntered from the house.

“Are the others home?” I asked.

Amelie sat next to me. “Marie is. Odile doesn’t need more help. Renny is still setting traps with Chris, T. Chris, and Lucy.” She wrinkled her nose. “Odile’s potion looks like sludge and smells worse. We came outside for fresh air. …What’s the matter? Didn’t the magic go well?”

I described Clovis’ spell. “The house is too vulnerable. I wonder…” No—I brushed the nutty idea aside.

Amelie pounced on my words. “What are you thinking?”

“Tell us, Peter,” demanded Esther.

Amelie chuckled. “May as well. Esther won’t stop, now.”

“Danged right, I won’t.”

“Something Clovis said,” I told them. “Pike can’t be stopped, but he’s vulnerable to a good, solid lie.”

“Lie up a guillotine,” Esther said, “and chop his head off.” For an angelic-faced kid, she had a surprisingly bloodthirsty side.

“How would you get him to stick his head under the blade?” asked Amelie.

Her face fell. “Oh. I didn’t think about that.”

“In any case,” I said, “the demon’s magic keeps him immortal. I can’t even explode Pike’s rat. He’d just send another.” My disappointment showed plain.

Amelie sympathized. “That’s a pity, but you have another idea. Tell us.”

“I might be able to hide the house.”

Her eyes widened. “You can do that?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“The dock, too?” said Esther. “Odile’s cabin?”

My heart sank. The Benoit’s property encompassed acres. Hiding the main house without dealing with the other structures was pointless. I wished I hadn’t mentioned anything at all.

Too late. Esther was all revved up. She bounced with excitement. “Do it, do it, do it now, Peter.”

“Wait a second, Esther. I don’t know if the idea will work.”

“Yes, it will. You can do it. You’re the best liar ever.”

“Go on, Peter,” Amelie urged. “I believe in you, too.”

Their confidence was heartening. “I’ll try, but only if Esther is quiet.” She mimed zipping her lips.

I scanned the surroundings, not sure where to begin, but very conscious of Amelie’s eyes on me. My first inclination was to build a wall, like Clovis did with the gator. By now, I could conjure a good one, brick and mortal all the way with a dollop of razor-sharp barbed wire on top. I discarded the idea. Men can scale a wall, even one with barbed wire. If I made it too high to climb, Pike would recognize a spell. A solid tangle of vegetation, perhaps? I shook my head. Same problem as the wall—too phony. What’s left, I thought in despair. How do I make a cluster of buildings along with a dock invisible to Pike and his gang?

Invisible?

I stopped short. Could I do that? So far I made imaginary objects solid and real to the touch. How does one go about making nothing, or rather unmaking something already existing? I scratched my head. The spell would take some mighty creative lying, but creative lying was my forte.

“Peter?” Amelie’s face was a question mark.

“Keep your eyes on the house.”

Amelie and Esther tagged behind as I walked to the center of the yard. In my mind I traced a circuit around the Benoit’s property, holding a picture of the house and garden all the way to the water. Having often used the mental map technique to find my way around New Brunswick, I was able to comfortably plot a course in no time.

I extended the vision to include the sheds and storage buildings and then increased the range to Odile’s acre of land. I concentrated hard until every nail, every board, and every tomato plant in the garden locked into my mind. The family owned a large parcel. A convincing spell would take a heap of lying.

“A barrier surrounds the property. Nothing can be seen within the boundary.”

Instead of the answering prickle in the atmosphere, the air was flat and heavy. I dug down deep, throwing every bit of force into the words. “I see no house, no garden, and no dock. Everything is invisible to the eye.” A shimmer developed, a swirl of undefined energy. The magic gathered ready to be plucked.

Believe. Believe with all your heart. “I see no house.”

Click.

Everything from the bright red door to the tin roof vanished.

Amelie sucked in her breath. “Where did it go?”

“Nowhere,” I assured her. “It’s just hidden from sight.” I inhaled deeply. “I see no dock.” Where an instant ago the Sweet Marie and pirogue bobbed placidly on the water, now no evidence existed. “The garden, the sheds, Odile’s cabin…” One by one they vanished, until the only objects remaining in the empty clearing were the three of us.

Amelie gaped in awe. “C’est incroyable.”

Not bad at all. I was getting pretty good at this magic stuff.

Esther tugged impatiently on Amelie’s shirt sleeve. “What’s he doing? Can I see? Can I see?”

“Yes, yes, all right.”

I waited for the same thunderstruck reaction, but instead Esther said, “Where are Marie and the others?”

Oops.