Magic in the Mix (22 page)

“And here I was beginning to think I'd never see you again!”

In the shadows of the front porch, a figure was reclining against the door, long legs stretched out before him.

“The last little duckling makes an arrival, returning home after a long day of dispensing justice. Tired but happy.”

It was Carter.

“No,” Miri said, frozen at the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh yes. It's me,” he said. “Restored to liberty. Risen from the tomb.”

“But you're in jail,” said Miri blankly. This couldn't be. The magic wouldn't allow it. They had done everything they were supposed to do. Robbie and Ray. Molly. Maudie and Pat. They had set things right. Carter wasn't
allowed
to ruin what they'd done. “I saw Charlie take you away.”

“Charlie's a fool,” Carter said, rising to his feet in one smooth movement. “But he's not such a fool that he's going to die if he doesn't have to. And he was generous enough to provide me—after some persuasion—with a horse and his very own pistol. Loaded.” He lifted it until she could see it glinting in the moonlight. “Get up here.”

Miri's heart began to thump in her chest. She joined Molly and her brothers on the porch.

“So you're going to shoot us?” said Ray after a minute.

“Yes, you
nit
, I'm going to shoot you,” hissed Carter. “But not quite yet. Eventually. It took you grubs a long time to get here, and I had plentiful
leisure to imagine your lingering and painful ends. I have great plans for each of you. …”

He talked on, but Miri stopped listening. Her heart was pounding in her throat. My poor heart, she thought sympathetically. It's had a hard day. A hard week. I've been scared so many times this past week. I'm tired of being scared.

She watched Carter's mouth move. Something about how she had tarnished his honor. Whatever. Her mind was drifting—which, she told herself, was not a bad idea under the circumstances. She wished her body could follow. She would drift through the front door.

“… maggots, gorging on the corpse of the Carter name …”

What was he gabbing about? She didn't know, so she looked, instead, at his narrow yellow eyes. She'd never seen anyone with yellow eyes before. Like a cat. She wondered if he could see in the dark.

“… and you dared to play the innocent—you!” he went on angrily. “You, a spying mudsill, and to have my reputation fouled by the likes of such a—”

With calm surprise, Miri realized that she was not actually feeling fear. Her fear seemed to have
moved a few feet away from her. Maybe she had been so frightened for so long that she was hardened to it. She felt light and free. Can't scare me, she said silently to Carter, even if you are about to shoot me. She glanced over her shoulder at Molly and Ray and Robbie and hoped that fear had left them, too.

Carter bent over her, his face twisted with anger. “… and you will be the last to go, you devil, because I'll have you see the damage your wicked tongue has wrought.”

He hates me so much, he's gone a little crazy, she thought, watching him. His face in the moonlight looked dark, almost purple, and little pieces of spit flew from his mouth as he thundered at her. He hates me so much he can't even think, she realized. He can't concentrate on anything but hating me.

A fleck of spit landed on Miri's arm. Revolted, she quickly rubbed it off and took a tiny step sideways to avoid more. Carter, without noticing, did the same.

Get away from me, thought Miri. She sidled to the left again.

Again, Carter echoed her step.

Huh, thought Miri. Interesting. She took another tiny sideways step.

Carter followed, describing her short future in unpleasant detail.

Miri didn't dare look toward the shattered rim of the floorboards, but she could almost see it, hovering at the edge of her vision, a dark, empty crater on her left where the porch had been shelled. The important thing was to get close enough, but not too close. She took another tiny shuffle sideways.

Carter grinned, believing that she was shrinking with fear. Pleased to inspire terror, he pressed closer. “My sister had the misfortune to anger me, as you have …”

The dark hole yawned nearby; she could see it now. Just one more tiny step and they'd be in position. Miri stepped sideways.

Carter stepped sideways. “… a desperate fear of fire, I knew …”

Gazing deep into Carter's yellow eyes, Miri cleared her throat. “Swarm,” she said.

For a split second, nothing happened. And then Miri heard a collective intake of breath, a shuffle, and a rush, and they were there—Ray, Robbie, and
Molly, dashing at Carter, weaving, jabbing, and pushing at him.

“What—stop, you—get away—” Carter, aggravated by the press of children, swatted at them wildly with his gun. “I'll get—hold still!”

“Ooooh, yah, Nick Car-tah!” squalled Ray.

“Yo, Nicky! The freaky monkey man!” hooted Robbie, darting forward to poke Carter in the neck.

“Stay back from the edge!” called Miri, as she bobbed up and down and stepped on Carter's foot.

Ray and Robbie began to kick at Carter's legs enthusiastically.

“Get away! What the devil?” Carter lifted a leg to kick back, got jabbed—this time by Robbie—lost his balance, and seesawed on the edge of the hole, flapping his arms. “You—” Carter's voice cracked with surprise as he felt the first pull of time's force.

The boys jogged toward him and back, poking with needling fingers, screeching like insane owls.

But they were too close! “Get back! Guys, get back!” called Miri, turning to push them to safety.

Carter saw his opportunity. His hand flashed out and seized her, a counterweight to the power pulling him in. At once, as his iron fingers curled around her arm, the fear that had stood to one side returned to
Miri in a rush. Her heart began to pound, her breath coming in gasps. Helplessly, she twisted in Carter's grasp. With a mighty shudder of panic, she tried to wrench her arm away and felt herself stumble, forward and down, toward the hole beneath the floor.

“
Miri!
” screamed Molly, and Ray and Robbie froze, paralyzed by the sight of their sister and their target locked together, swaying on the ruined edge of the floor.

“Gotcha!” roared Carter as he wavered, one hand holding his gun aloft, the other holding her tight. Miri was bent toward him, unable to resist the drag of time and man together.

An arm circled her waist, pulling her back.

But Carter, holding her wrist, was stronger.

She teetered, tried to balance, failed, and began the slow, irresistible fall forward. The arm around her middle tightened, strained, loosened, broke painfully open—

And there were just the two of them, Miri and Carter, falling together.

Then—

Ping
. A bright gold coin—a ten-dollar eagle—spiraled up, twirling between her and Carter. For a split second, their eyes tracked it together, watching
it rise, reach its apex, and begin to drop, sparkling, brilliant as fire—

Carter's hand shot up to grab the coin, releasing his hold on Miri's arm. As his fingers closed around the gold, Robbie grabbed Miri's freed hand and yanked with all his strength, pulling her back from the chasm. Turning, Miri caught a glimpse of Carter, saw his pale eyes open wide with the knowledge of what he'd just done, saw his mouth open in a silent O of shock—and then he tumbled, knocking back and forth like a rag in a hurricane as he dropped away into the darkness beneath the house.

Miri, saved, collapsed against Robbie, who collapsed in turn against Ray, who smacked into Molly, who dropped with a thud to the floor.

For a moment, they lay in a heap. Then, slowly, Robbie sat up. He leaned forward to gaze at the ragged rim of wood. “Et tu, Brute,” he said solemnly.

There was a pause.

“What?” asked Ray.

“Julius Caesar,” said Robbie.

There was another pause.

“Shut up,” Ray said.

Miri lay in silence, staring at nothing. She was alive. She was safe. Her arm was throbbing where Carter had gripped it, but she was alive and safe. With an effort, she rolled over onto her stomach and reached for her sister's hand.

Molly's hand clutched hers tight. “Wow.” She turned her head to the boys. “Good swarming.”

Ray sat up. “I thought we were all goners.”

“Me too,” said Robbie. “I almost had a heart attack.”

“The coin,” murmured Miri. “Tossing the coin was brilliant.”

“We knew how much he loved gold,” Molly said, wiping her forehead with her sleeve.

“He loved it so much he
died
,” said Robbie.

Miri and Molly looked at each other. “He's not dead,” said Molly. “Not yet, anyway.”

Robbie winced. “He's not coming back, is he?”

Miri shook her head. “He can't. I'm almost sure he can't.”

“Good,” said Ray.

Miri sat up, finally, and looked from brother to
sister to brother. “All of us did it. It was all of us that made it come out right. All of us together.”

“It hasn't come out right yet,” Ray pointed out. “There's still Mom.”

“Compared to Carter, I'm not worried,” Robbie said, smiling.

“Me neither,” said Miri. In fact, she was longing to see their mother. “But let's do it together.”

Ray and Robbie limped to their feet and gave their sisters a hand up. The four of them paused, facing the door, and then Robbie bowed to Miri. “After you.”

Miri pushed it open. “Hey, Mom!” she bellowed. “We're home!”

Six days and one hundred and fifty years later, their mother stood in the doorway of the living room. “What are you doing?” she asked, eyeing her four older children, who were strewn, in angles ranging from fifty to hundred and eighty degrees, over the sofas and chairs.

“Math,” mumbled Miri, her head bent over a tangle of numbers.

“Yeah,” sighed Molly.

Her mother stared at Robbie. “Are you
reading
?” she asked.

“Yeah.” A second passed and he looked up. “What?”

“Is it for school?”

He glanced at the spine. “Uh. No.”

“It's for
fun
?” she pressed.

He nodded.

“What is it?” she asked, incredulous.

He looked at it again. “History book.”

“A
history
book?”

He gave an exasperated sigh. “Yeah. A history book. Which I was, like, reading until you came in.”

“Don't be sassy,” she said, but absently. “A history book,” she repeated. “About what?”

“Mom!” he yelled. “The Civil War! I'm trying to read!”

“The Civil War,” she echoed in wonder. “You're reading a book about the Civil War.” There was a pause. “We should ground you guys more often.”

Silence.

“I mean, here you are, reading with your brother and sisters. Isn't it great? Isn't it cozy and nice?” She
came in to peer over Robbie's shoulder. “History is
fascinating
, isn't it?”

Ray snorted. “Sometimes.”

“And I'm so glad to see that you're taking an interest in the larger world,” she went on enthusiastically. “Maybe it's because you've had some time and space for reflection, for
thinking
, you know?” She gave Robbie's shoulder a loving squeeze. “Being grounded is almost like a vacation in a way, isn't it?”

The four children lifted their heads and gave their mother four long, level stares.

“Well, fine,” she said, taking a step backward. “But it was your own fault. It's a completely reasonable punishment, considering.” She took another step backward. “Eleven thirty at night! Of all the ridiculous, impossible, irresponsible …” Her voice faded as she strode toward the kitchen.

Silence fell upon the living room again.

Some time later, Robbie lifted his eyes from his book. “It says here that no one ever saw him again. Carter, I mean. After the war, they don't know what happened to him.”