Diary of Anna the Girl Witch 1: Foundling Witch (2 page)

BOOK: Diary of Anna the Girl Witch 1: Foundling Witch
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After lunch, I realized there was something wonderful about being thirteen. I was old enough to get treated like an adult sometimes, but still young enough to play silly games with my friends.

Sister Daphne organized the games, of course. Sister Constance’s idea of fun was rolling skeins of yarn into balls in preparation for knitting. She was always knitting, even at the beach. She had brought along her enormous carpetbag of wool, and she spent the afternoon sitting under an umbrella, knitting a purple sweater, and yelling at the hoodlums. The strange thing was that I never saw her or anyone else wear the sweaters she knitted. I wondered what she did with them.

We played a game in which we had to fill an enormous sponge with water from a bucket, run across the sand to squeeze it into another bucket at the far end, and pass the sponge to a teammate who would run back for more water. The team who filled their bucket first would win. That would have been my team, but Jean-Sébastien and Luca stole the sponges on the last run and squashed them on the tops of two girls, Sarah and Emily, soaking them in an instant. Sarah screeched and chased the boys up the beach.

Oh, well. If that was the worst thing the hoodlums did today, I’d consider myself lucky.

By four o’clock, I was starting to worry about Gaëlle. She should have arrived already. I kept looking up the path that led through the grassy sand dunes toward the road, but it was still empty.

“It’s time to cut the cake,” said Sister Daphne in her usual singsong voice.

“More food?” grouched Sister Constance from her shaded chair. “Haven’t you spoiled these children enough for one day?”

“Dear Constance, that’s what birthday parties are all about!” Sister Daphne laughed. “Lauraleigh, why don’t you go get the cake out of the cooler?”

“Yes, Sister,” Lauraleigh said.

“Don’t worry,” Beatrice whispered. “I’ve been guarding that cooler all day, just like you asked. I’m sure that Jean-Sébastien hasn’t been anywhere near it.”

I tried to relax as Lauraleigh walked over, carrying one of Sister Daphne’s incredible creations. But I was worried about Gaëlle. Why was she so late? And I’d been worrying about Uncle Misha for weeks, too. Why were his letters always returned unopened? And I was especially worried about Jean-Sébastien ruining my birthday cake. Where was he, anyway?

Just then, I spotted him, sneaking up behind Lauraleigh with something long and wiggly in his hands.

A garden snake! Oh, no! From his evil grin, I could tell that he was going to toss it around Lauraleigh’s neck. She would scream and drop my beautiful cake.

No! I wouldn’t allow it. I clenched my fists tight and yelled, “Stop!”

And that’s just what everyone did: They froze. Not like in a game of Red Light, Green Light, in which people try to stand still but wobble and fall. No, I mean
everything
froze: the people, the small waves on the lake, the birds flying overhead. Even the air. Everything was perfectly still except for the garden snake that wriggled until, with a
poof
, it changed into a billowy green scarf.

Time started up again. I was the one frozen now – with shock. No one else seemed to have noticed what had just happened. Jean-Sébastien hadn’t. He still thought he held a snake. He tossed it over Lauraleigh’s neck, but the scarf fell harmlessly onto her shoulders. She turned to him and smiled.

“Well, thank you, Jean-Sébastien,” she said. “Is this a present for the birthday girl?”

His eyes goggled. “Uh, no. I mean, yes,” he stammered, and ran off.

I would have let out a triumphant laugh except the whole thing had nearly scared the pants off me. Had time actually stopped? Why didn’t anyone else notice? And the scariest question of all: Did I do that?

No time to think about it now. My friends were singing Happy Birthday, and then Sister Daphne pressed the handle of a knife into my hand.

“You must cut your own cake, dear. It’s for good luck.”

So I cut the cake for everyone, giving the biggest piece to Beatrice and saving one for me and one for Gaëlle, who still hadn’t shown up. All the while, I kept thinking about the world suddenly stopping around me. I expected to freak out about that, but I didn’t. The episode was odd, but it left me strangely calm.

As we all sat on the sand, enjoying Sister Daphne’s cinnamon-apple goodness, Lauraleigh wrapped the new green scarf around my neck. I found its touch soft and comfortable.

“I think Jean-Sébastien has a crush on you,” she whispered.

Ugh.
If only she knew the truth!

“Did you notice anything unusual right around the time that he gave you the scarf?” I asked. Unusual; that was putting it mildly.

“Yeah. You screamed like something bit you,” Lauraleigh said. “What was all that about? I almost dropped the cake.”

“That? Oh, I thought I saw a bee, but it was just a fly,” I lied. I wanted to tell her the truth, but I was starting to wonder if I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. Maybe Jean-Sébastien had been holding a scarf all along? Yes, that had to be it.

I didn’t have more time to worry about it because my birthday surprise arrived. I had been looking toward the road all afternoon, expecting Gaëlle, but instead, she arrived from the air in a hot air balloon.

André and Marie were rich. Like mega rich. They lived in a castle over the hills and drove fancy cars. Marie was always dressed as if ready for a gala, usually with more jewelry than I thought necessary.

Today was no exception. As the beautiful rainbow-striped balloon descended, I could see André and Marie in the basket along with Gaëlle and their natural-born daughter, Candace. The Montmorencys claimed that they had always wanted a large family and plenty of sisters for little Candace, so they had adopted seven girls from the orphanage over the years. Gaëlle was the most recent. They were like heroes in Luyons. Sister Daphne adored them. Even though it was sad for her to see her children leave, she was always grateful when they found loving homes.

I wasn’t so enamored with the Montmorencys. Last year, before adopting Gaëlle, they had asked me to join their family – and I had refused. Everyone at the orphanage was stunned. No orphan had ever turned down a new family.

“Are you crazy?” Gaëlle had asked. “I would give anything to live in a castle and wear fancy dresses like Candace!”

“I don’t need fancy dresses,” I had replied. “And I don’t need their money. I have enough of my own to get into the Collège next year.” And that’s exactly what I did. They adopted Gaëlle instead. And I guessed that was a good thing because she didn’t have a trust fund and she wouldn’t have been able to go to the private school with me otherwise. She would have had to stay back at Luyons.

But still… there was something off about the Montmorencys. Something about them gave me the creeps, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Hellooooo!” André boomed. Oh, yeah, there was that: André was really loud. He jumped out of the basket and squeezed me in a big bear hug. And that: He liked to hug, and he always smelled of cigars. Yuck!

“There’s the birthday girl!” he bellowed. “We’ve come to whisk you away for a grand adventure.”

“In that?” I asked, pointing to the balloon.

“Of course!” Marie said. Somehow she had hopped over the edge of the balloon basket without even ruffling her long gown. “Candace, come out of there and let Anna Sophia and little Beatrice have a ride. They simply must see Irvigne Manor from the air.”

“But, Mother, my new shoes will get ruined on the beach,” Candace whined. Like Marie, she was dressed in a fine gown.

“It’s no problem, Marie,” Gaëlle said. “They can have my spot.”

“Nonsense,” said Marie. “You should be the one to show your friends how fabulous your new home is. Come, Candace. The sun is still hot enough to burn. You don’t want age spots before your time.” Her daughter grumbled some more but followed her to the shade of an umbrella.

“Get me something to drink,” Candace snapped, and one of the orphans jumped to get her a soda from the cooler. Candace was bossy. I couldn’t understand why everyone jumped to do her bidding.

Sister Daphne approached us with a broad grin.

“Monsieur Montmorency, how kind of you to think of the children like this. I’m sure they would love a balloon ride.”

“Not proper for young ladies to ride around in such contraptions,” Sister Constance said. She pursed her lips as she considered the balloon.

“Nonsense!” Sister Daphne said. “It’s marvelous.”

“I promise they’ll be perfectly safe,” said André. He held out his hand. I couldn’t think of a way to refuse without sounding ungrateful. Beatrice was hopping from foot to foot with excitement beside me.

“Will we be able to touch the stars?” she asked as André hoisted her into the basket.

“Don’t be silly, Beatrice,” Gaëlle said a little sharply. “The stars are much too high for that.”

As I climbed into the basket, I glanced at Gaëlle. She was usually a kindhearted spirit, especially with the younger kids. I noticed that her eyes were lined with dark circles and her nose was red as if she had been blowing it too much.

“Are you feeling well?” I asked.

She gave me a small smile. “Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping.”

André climbed into the basket and lit the propane burner beneath the balloon. It made a whooshing sound like a great fire-breathing dragon. The balloon rose into the evening sky.

Beatrice’s eyes grew big. She shifted closer to me and squeezed my hand.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” I said.

She nodded. “You got your superpower dream, Anna,” she said. “You’re flying!”

I let the high, cool air wash over me. The sickle moon looked able to catch our balloon on its hook as we floated by.

“Look at those boats below!” André bellowed. “Don’t they look just like toys?”

Beatrice and I leaned over to see the boats better. My stomach lurched when I saw how high we were already. Beatrice’s face had taken on a green tinge.

The balloon drifted along the lakeshore and into the foothills of the surrounding hills. Below us, the trees were bright green jewels.

“Irvigne Manor will be just over those hills,” André said. “Whoever spots it first will get a prize!” He beamed, pleased with his game. André always had a pocket full of “surprises.” Usually, they were hard candies that were so sweet, they made my teeth hurt. But I supposed he meant well.

“There it is!” said Beatrice. She leaned out and pointed at a tower in the distance. I held onto her shirt as she leaned out of the basket. She probably couldn’t fall out since the rim of the basket came up to her chin, but I wanted to be sure.

“Wouldn’t you love to live in a castle like a princess?” asked André as he gave her a candy prize. Beatrice beamed at him, her blond curls bouncing in her excitement.

“I would be the best princess ever!” she said.

Irvigne Manor was impressive. As we soared closer, I saw a second tower. They were like bookends holding together the massive stone structure – more of a castle than a manor house. It looked like it had once been blocky white stone but was now dark gray with edges worn by time, making it appear to be melting.

“It’s… big.” I didn’t know what else to say. It certainly wasn’t beautiful, except in a stark, chilling way.

“Legend says it was once the seat of the Knights Templar in this area,” André said smoothly. “I bet there are gold and jewels buried on the land somewhere, but I’ve never been able to find them.”

“We should have a treasure hunt,” Beatrice exclaimed. She seemed to be over her early bout of motion sickness. My stomach was still flipping with butterflies, but it had more to do with the castle than the balloon ride, I figured.

My dream stone grew hot against my chest. Maybe that was just my overactive imagination? I grabbed the leather thong and held the stone before my eye. Through the hole, the castle looked different. A dark shadow stretched around it like the arms of a great black beast. I blinked and dropped the dream stone, wondering just what sort of present Uncle Misha had given me.

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