The Witch Is Back (35 page)

Leave no reflection in the glass.

Don't try to fight, just let it go,

Better stay hidden than meet your foe.

I turned the card over, hoping there was an answer key somewhere that would let me know what the heck this riddle meant. As it was, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. “Take a break”—I could do that. In fact, I was rocking that part of the obstacle right now.

But the rest? The rest sounded . . . ominous. Creepy, slithering? That can never be good.

My eyes darted around for something that might jump out at me, but everything was still. There wasn't even a breeze in the air—something I would've welcomed at the moment. The water hadn't done much to cool me down internally, and I felt like I was practically boiling in the sun.

Standing up again, I wandered over to the shade of a nearby tree. It couldn't have been more than ten degrees cooler over there, but it was enough to give me at least a modicum of relief. I read through the riddle a few more times, still unsure what it was telling me to do, and then leaned back against the trunk of the tree, taking a few seconds to close my eyes and just relax.

The truth was, I heard it before I saw it.

There was a rustling of leaves, the sound of footfall on the ground, twigs breaking softly. My eyes shot open and I searched the area. Someone or something was there—it just hadn't shown itself yet. This meant it was possible it didn't know that I was there, either.

Frozen in place, I waited for the thing to show itself. I was pretty sure that I was entering into the third Brighton obstacle.

And after some water and a brief rest, I was ready for it.

Or at least, that's what I thought, until the thing stepped out from behind the bushes not twenty feet away from me and I nearly fainted.

Seriously? A panther?! There wasn't a lion available?
I wanted to yell it out for all the counselors to hear, but thought better of it, considering what was stalking my way.

Instead, my mind began to race as I took in the sight of the sleek creature in front of me. This was no overgrown housecat. The black beauty slinking into the clearing was a powerful predator. Muscles bulged underneath smooth dark fur, and I followed the length of its legs down to its enormous paws. I almost gasped when I saw its razor-sharp claws; they were several inches in length and I knew from the Discovery Channel what they were used for.

Ripping girls like me into shreds.

Maybe that wasn't totally true, but at the moment it was the only thing I could picture.

Turning my thoughts back to the fact that this was most likely part of the challenge, I went back over what the card had said.

Take a break.

Did that.

Something scary will show up.

The panther definitely qualified.

Then there was the part about facing your fears, a mirror, and hiding? All of which, by the way, seemed to contradict themselves. Why were riddles so . . . complicated?! People should just say
exactly
what they mean for once. At least that way they'd be guaranteed to get the desired result. All this “I'm saying this, when I really mean that,” beating-around-the-bush bull—

Wait.

My ranting had managed to give me an idea. One that could possibly help in this very situation.

Pushing my back even harder against the tree, I slowly took my hands from their spot on my thighs and placed them behind me. I could manage to flee to a tree and climb high into it, but then how long before it followed me? Freezing him was another option, but the riddle hadn't said anything about running away. It had said to “stay hidden.”

Taking the time to bring my hands back to the trunk of the tree was an excruciatingly slow process, but as I moved, I knew it was what I was supposed to do. My heart gave a leap as I finally made contact and realized that I might not turn out to be kitty kibble after all. I concentrated on allowing the essence of the tree to take over my being. I thought about the roughness of its bark, the strength of its stature, the rings around its insides, and the deep green of its moss.

Then I whispered the words as quietly as the breeze. “Conselus disguisen camocon.” It might not have been loud, but the intent screamed volumes.

The tingling began in my fingers and then a warmth spread over my body. It was slow at first, but then picked up speed until, finally, I looked down and saw that I'd disappeared.

Not disappeared. Blended into my surroundings.

Just like a chameleon.

It was perfect timing, too, because a few seconds later, the panther began to saunter in my direction. Right toward me, in fact. They say that animals can smell fear and mine was coming off in waves. I hadn't exactly been a cat person to begin with, so supersizing the animal and then adding a variety of instruments of torture had me sweating bullets. And I couldn't help but feel that the panther knew it.

He was less than a foot away now, and his eyes were trained right on me. Fighting off my rising panic, I shut my eyes as tightly as I could and thought about the feel of the tree beneath me. Mrs. B had said that we needed to have a strong connection to the object in order to duplicate it. And right now I was holding on for dear life.

Ten seconds went by. Fifteen. After twenty seconds had passed and I still hadn't felt the panther's teeth cut into my gut, I dared to open one of my eyes just a sliver. But it wasn't enough to see, so I opened it the rest of the way.

And came face-to-face with the panther, paws straddling both sides of me, its breath hot on my face. My worst nightmare came true as its mouth opened up, and it let out a deafening roar.

I was sure that I was dead. When the panther was done with me, there'd be nothing but shreds of flesh left. The cat would run away with my bones and lick them dry. The headline would read:

CAMP CRISIS

Girl has face eaten off by panther during camp obstacle course; it wasn't pretty.

I used to think that the worst way to go would be via thousands of paper cuts, because it would be a slow and painful death. But at the moment, I wanted to amend my initial thoughts on dying. Being eaten alive by an oversize kitty would be worse. Much worse.

It took everything I had in me not to scream. In fact, the only thing keeping me from doing so was the thought that people would remember me for being a wimp. If I was going to be taken out, it wouldn't be while screaming.

At least
that
much I could control.

So I stood there, as still as I could, despite the fact that I was trembling slightly, and closed my eyes. I didn't need to see it coming. Deep down I knew that it was unlikely that the counselors would let us perish out here, but I also recognized that even the best-laid plans went horribly wrong sometimes.

Several seconds went by, the longest in my life. And still, no shredding. Minutes passed and I was still alive. Finally, I opened one eye and then the other, the suspense of it all nearly killing me.

The panther was gone. Not totally gone; I could see his butt wiggling as he walked away, passing through a set of bushes across from me before he disappeared completely.

I waited a few minutes after he'd left before I dared to move again. And even when I did, it was as quietly as I could. I pulled myself away from the tree, letting the spell fade as I moved. I stepped back into the sun even though I was sweating bullets, still stunned by what had just happened. As I turned in the direction that I thought was forward, my bracelet glowed purple before adding more red gems to the band. When the jewels stopped lighting up, I counted how many people had failed this round.

Seven other twitches hadn't been able to fight their biggest nightmares by blending in with their surroundings and had been disqualified, bringing the total number of people out of the race to sixteen. More than half the girls at camp were eliminated and I'd survived.

Barely.

With a single backward glance, I gathered my wits and headed toward the next obstacle.

I was moving more slowly now. Both because of the stress of the last challenge and because I knew the next one was going to be even harder. Better to take it slow than wear myself out completely before I got to the end.

As I walked, I began to wonder who might've been eliminated from the competition already. I liked to think that the rest of the Cleri were smart enough to get through each of the obstacles, but even I had to admit that they'd turned out to be more difficult than I'd expected. Still, fourteen girls were left in the game, which meant there was a chance everyone had survived so far.

Unless the others hadn't gotten to the third challenge yet.

I couldn't get the image of the panther's toothy mouth out of my head. Its hot breath on my skin, saliva dripping from its teeth . . . Was everyone going up against the same creature? Or was the challenge geared toward the individual? After all the trauma that Jinx had been through, I despised the thought of her having to face something like this.

Especially since she'd made so much progress in the healing department.

I shook my head to clear the obsessive thoughts and found that I felt a little fuzzy after. Stopping where I was, I tried to get a grip on what I was feeling. Slightly dizzy and a sudden difficulty in focusing.

I blinked my eyes to try to clear them, but it was like I was looking through fogged-up lenses. Something was . . . off.

Was this what post-traumatic shock was like? Had the panther thing traumatized me?

I couldn't think of another explanation. There was no reason I should feel this exhausted or out of it. This . . . tired.

My body started to get heavy and my head begged for me to lie down and rest. So I obliged. I plopped down onto the ground as gracefully as a hippo and let the palms of my hands graze the top of the grass beneath me.

I smiled lazily. I liked the feel of the blades between my fingers. Soft and silky. My head lolled on my shoulders as I looked down to see that it wasn't grass that I was touching at all. It was flowers. The scent infiltrated my nostrils and I inhaled deeply.

Ahhhhh, lavender.

“Lavendula,” I said slowly. I was surprised to hear my words were slurred and I giggled at the sound. “Often called lavender . . . you can tell this plant . . . by its purple-blue color . . . and sweet floral scent. Helps aid in sleep and relaxation.”

My head flopped to the right and I spotted another flower I recognized. This one was white with a yellow center. Rows of them lined the dirt trail, making it into a pretty sort of walkway.

“Chamomile . . . A daisylike plant . . . most widely used to help bring on . . . sleep and has antianxiety properties.”

I cocked my head as I started to sense a pattern, but I was having trouble putting it all together. Spotting yet another nearby plant, I placed my hand to my head and rubbed it wearily. Everything around me was fading away.

“Valerian . . . Sweetly scented pink . . . or white flowers . . . that've been known to possess . . . sedative values . . .”

My words trailed off as it all seemed to click. I had to get out of there. Looking forward, I could see that I still had quite a ways to go before the flowers around me dispersed. I wouldn't have to go as far if I backtracked, but then I'd be moving farther away from my goal. If I stayed then I wouldn't be going anywhere. Except maybe to sleep.

In the end, I decided my only choice was to move backward and find some other way to get to where I needed to go. So I began to drag my tired body along the ground. It was all I could manage at that point. Every inch felt like a mile's worth of exertion and I had to ignore the voice inside of me that kept telling me to just give up and take a nap.

Winners never sleep.

The mantra randomly appeared in my head and I moved a bit with every word.

Winners.

(Drag.)

Never.

(Drag.)

Sleep.

(Drag.)

After a while of doing this, my head began to clear. It was slow at first, but then it was like I was waking up, little by little. In fact, when I was able to finally stand again, I realized what had just happened. The flowers I'd just stood in were better than an Ambien. All we needed was a herd of sheep and even the biggest insomniac would've been down for the count.

“You sneaky little witches,” I said under my breath, still retreating from the fragrant bouquet behind me.

When I was finally at a safe distance, I studied the woods around me for something that could help get me through the Garden of Sleepville without passing out. The answer ended up being much easier than I thought. In fact, it was almost as if this particular obstacle had been created
just
for me.

Catching my second wind, I rushed around the forest, looking for all the flowers and plants I could find that could help me.

I ripped flowers from their roots and pulled petals from the stems, mentioning what each thing was used for, for the benefit of the counselors who were watching. When I'd gathered everything I needed, I sat down and began to make my serum. Stuffing the broken and mashed-up petals, stems, and flowers that I'd collected into the bottle of what was left of my water, I shook the contents vigorously. As I let the oils mix together, I performed my mom's infusion spell.

When I was finished, I opened the cap and studied the contents carefully, then looked at the flower patch ahead. Wearing the perfume wasn't going to be enough to get me through this challenge. It was going to take more than that for it to work.

With a deep breath, I tipped back my head and swallowed the remaining water.

“Ugh!” I said, shuddering.

It was like drinking potpourri. Pleasant to smell, but not meant for drinking. Without pausing, I shook the rest of the contents out into my hand and smashed it up into a gross-looking mixture. Then, using it as a paste, I rubbed it underneath my nostrils until I couldn't smell anything else.