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Authors: Randi Reisfeld,H.B. Gilmour

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CHAPTER THREE

THE IMPOSTER

Cam turned from the clock with a start. It seemed like only a few seconds since Alex had gone on her food-foraging expedition. Now here she was, banging open the door to their room — looking wild-eyed and furious.

“What?” Cam asked, annoyed at her sister’s entrance.

“ Leave that alone!” Alex commanded in a voice filled with venom. The vicious tone, in Cam’s opinion, was totally over the top.

And so was the way Alex was glaring at her.

Cam was used to their constant bickering, but the way her sister’s gray eyes were glinting spitefully at the book in Cam’s hand made her skin crawl.

“Don’t lose my place!” Alex snarled. “Put that book down! Now!”

Her twin could be unpredictable and hot-blooded, but she’d never before turned on Cam like a growling beast. Stunned, Cam slammed the little spell book shut. “What’d you get to eat, ground glass?” she responded defensively.

“None of your business!” Alex shocked her by shouting.

Something was way off. In addition to the twisted rage Alex had never expressed before, there seemed to be an icy draft streaming from her.

“Drop the book before you get hurt!” Alex the Angry ordered.

Without thinking twice, Cam hurled the fragile old book across the room at her sister.

The book stopped in midair, inches from Alex’s face. It spun abruptly, did a U-ie, then sped with frightening velocity back in Cam’s direction.

For a moment Cam stood paralyzed. Eyes wide with astonishment, she gaped at her twin. Then self-preservation kicked in and she ducked. The book slammed into the wall behind her, tearing a gash in her poster of hottie soccer star David Beckham.

*        *        *

Later that day, in the early evening, Alex was standing in the kitchen when Emily came in juggling three bags overflowing with groceries. She’d gone food shopping after work.

“Want to give me a hand?” the tottering woman asked.

“That’ll be the day.” The surly tone of Cam’s voice as she entered the kitchen surprised both Alex and Emily. “She’d rather give you a foot — as in a kick.”

Alex’s response was quick and angry. “What are you doing here, on a sulking break?” she asked, relieving Emily of two bags of groceries and setting them on the kitchen island. Alex had barely spoken to Cam all day.

A peculiar odor had seeped into the room. What had Emily bought, Alex wondered, and why did it smell so strange yet familiar?

Flustered, but opting to play the peacemaker, Emily ignored their rancor. Hoping to change the subject, she asked with exaggerated innocence, “Have you girls thought about what you’d like to do for your birthday?”

“Alex has,” Cam said in her nasty new incarnation. “She’d rather be dead than have a sweet sixteen party!”

Emily caught her breath. “Is that true?” she asked after a moment.

Alex barely heard the question. Her mouth was
open and her brow seriously creased as she studied her sister. Cam’s metallic-gray eyes flashed back at her; behind them, her thoughts were purposefully scrambled, preventing Alex from knowing what was really on her mind. Before she could ask, Cam struck out again.

“What’s wrong with your hyper-hearing? Didn’t you get Mommy’s question?”

Mommy?
Alex thought. Cam had never called Emily “Mommy” before. Not ever.

And
hyper-hearing
? Her sister must’ve gone mental to mention one of Alex’s special gifts in front of Emily, who knew nothing about their being witches. Was this Cam’s idea of honesty — blowing their cover and letting Em in on way more than she could handle?

“Is that true, Alex? You … um, you don’t like the idea?” Usually in command, confident, competent, and, face it, bossy, Emily was gnawing on her bottom lip like a hurt child and waiting apprehensively for Alex’s answer.

Yes, they were supposed to be exercising rigorous honesty. But would sparing Emily’s feelings really count as an out-and-out lie? No, Alex decided. It might even fall under kindness, compassion, justice, and love.

Alex felt a gust of cold air, like a draft, blowing from Cam’s direction. Alex looked up to find her sister watching her, hands on her hips, lips curled in a snarl. “Don’t even think about lying!” Cam said.

Emily seemed as startled as Alex by the bitterness in Cam’s tone. “Do you feel the same way,” she cautiously asked her daughter, “about… having a birthday party?”

“Let me think,” Cam proposed sarcastically, placing an index finger on her cheek. “That would be … a yes.”

“Camryn,” Emily blurted, hurt.

“Get off my back,” Cam growled.

David Barnes, Emily’s husband and Cam’s usually adoring adoptive dad, stalked into the kitchen. Clearly, he’d caught the tail end of the conversation and was rolling up his shirtsleeves as he came, as if unconsciously preparing for a fight. “How dare you talk to your mother that way?” he demanded.

“Did you say ‘mother’?” Cam sneered. “Hello, I’m adopted.”

Dave’s face grew purple. He started to say something, then thought better of it. His bushy mustache flagged as his mouth clamped shut.

Alex glanced at Emily. The poor woman’s eyes were swimming behind a veil of tears. Dave put his arm around her shoulder. “Em, excuse us for a minute,” he whispered to his distraught wife. “I’d like to speak to them alone.”

Emily nodded. She squared her shoulders bravely and lifted her chin and did not turn to look at either Cam or Alex as she marched out of the room.

“It’s the truth!” Cam wailed as Emily left. “Alex said
terrible things about you and I just got so upset. I’d never have acted like that on my own. Oh, Mommy —”

Mommy?
There it was again, Alex thought. What was Cam trying to pull?

“What’s going on here?” Dave demanded. He knew the twins were witches. He had been told when the infant girl, who they’d named Camryn, had been given to him by the ancient warlock Karsh. He’d only learned of Alex’s existence a year ago, when the same beloved old man left her — an angry, grieving teenager — literally on their doorstep.

“I’m sorry. I said I was sorry.” Now it was Cam’s turn to burst into tears.

Alex felt Dave’s eyes on her. She shrugged. “Cam’s been kind of upset lately,” she offered. Dave was waiting for more. “About a boy,” Alex continued cautiously. “Um, nothing big, just… a boy.”

The moment Dave dismissed them, Cam dashed out of the room and up the stairs.

Something told Alex to leave her alone. To just drop the whole baffling episode.

Something was wrong. Cam was acting beyond weird. And the odor in the kitchen, the bittersweet stench Alex had thought was coming from the grocery bag — could it have been coming from Cam?

More perplexed than angry now, Alex decided to get out of the house, to cool off and give Cam a chance to chill, too.

As she stepped outside, Cam’s brother, Dylan, was hiking up the driveway, droopy, wide pants dragging, skateboard under his arm. “Whassup?” he said. “You look like you just got jacked flipping off your back trucks.”

Alex sighed and shook her head but could feel her mouth twitching into a smile. “English,” she requested.

“Seriously, dude. You look really bummed.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted, hoping she was right.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE FIRST TEST

Except for another burst of angry accusations just before dinner, the twins avoided each other for the rest of the evening and barely spoke the next morning.

Cam stayed in bed pretending to be asleep until she heard Alex leave. Then she got up and took a quick shower. By the time she returned to the bedroom, her hair still dripping and a towel wrapped around her, Alex was back. And she was tossing their Coventry Island books into a big green garbage bag.

Cam was determined not to ask why, but she couldn’t help wondering.

Which Alex quickly picked up on. Without pausing
or glancing at Cam, she announced, “You’re on your own. I decided I’m not going to be initiated. So I won’t need this stupid stuff.”

There it was again — the hateful look, the malicious tone.…

Cam was stunned as, she supposed, her sister had meant for her to be. Determined to avoid another face-off, she turned away from Alex and toward the mirror over her dresser.

First she knew it instinctively, then she saw it in the mirror. Alex had stopped hurling books into the bag and was staring at her — with a terrible, calculating glare. A look so malevolent it was hard to believe it was Alex.

Chills ripped through Cam’s spine. She shuddered in a sudden cold current that seemed to be flowing from her sister.

But couldn’t be.

More likely, she decided, the problem was her wet hair. Shivering, she hurried back into the bathroom to dry it. As she turned off the blow-dryer, the bedroom door slammed. Her sister had stalked out again, leaving the bag of books on the floor between their beds.

Dylan was wolfing down a forbidden Pop-Tart when Alex entered the kitchen. “Don’t tell Mom, okay?” he
asked, spraying crumbs in his hurry to make her his ally. “She thinks they rot your brain. I stashed a couple behind the oatmeal. Want one?”

“Believe me, I don’t need any sugar this morning,” Alex said. “My adrenaline is doing push-ups thanks to your sister.”

“Cam? What’d she do?”

“Tried to play psycho games with me! She was totally weird yesterday. And then, just before supper, she went ballistic. Said I threw a book at her. Which I did not!” Alex grabbed a container of orange juice from the fridge. “I don’t know what’s going on, but she better stay out of my way today.”

“Ballistic? You sure it was Cam?” Dylan was equally amused and surprised. “Dude, she must be having some kind of meltdown. Losing control is so not her M.O.”

“I’m sure,” Alex confirmed.

But all of a sudden, she wasn’t.

Dylan caught her hesitation, her questioning look. “What?” he asked.

Alex shrugged. The moment of doubt passed. “Nothing,” she said. “Maybe I’m losing it, too.”

Cam and Alex left the house at different times, by different doors just to be sure. When they passed each
other in the hall at school, they looked the other way. Cam made a point of laughing loudly with her best bud Beth when Alex walked by. When she saw Cam coming, Alex stuck her head into her locker so quickly that she practically impaled herself on a hook.

At least they didn’t have to try to avoid each other at lunch. While Cam held court at the popular table with her crew, the Six Pack, Alex was meeting Cade at the soccer field to munch lunch and catch up.

Cade Richman. Just thinking of him made her smile in spite of herself and her sister’s sudden strangeness.

Cade was the first guy who really got her. And got
to
her. The dark-haired, blue-eyed boy pierced right through her tough exterior.

She’d gotten an e-mail from him that morning suggesting face-time, and she’d been all over it. Between homework and his after-school internship at a law firm, they hadn’t seen a whole lot of each other lately.

Cade had volunteered to bring sandwiches. Alex stopped by the cafeteria to pick up a supersized brownie and a couple of sodas.

Sure enough, Cam was with her squad, totally into whatever her pal Bree was gushing about. Without wanting to, Alex was suddenly tuned in to the chat.

Bree was dissing Nadine Somerfeld, the new girl at
school, who was sitting alone two tables away. According to the pint-sized fashionista, Nadine’s outfit was “thrift-shop generic or budget mall-wear at best.”

To her credit, Cam wasn’t having any. She rounded irritably on Bree and told her to chill. Her sister must have sensed Alex’s presence nearby because she turned just then and, as her eyes met Alex’s, the irritability drained away and Cam’s look became one of sadness and longing.

For me?
Alex wondered, surprised by the pull that eye contact with her twin was having on her.

Mindlessly, Alex toyed with her moon amulet. The hammered-gold charm matched the sun necklace Cam always wore. Together the two pieces, moon and sun, formed a perfect circle. Occasionally, they seemed to have wills of their own — heating up and reaching toward each other. Like now, Alex realized.

What’s happening to us?
she heard her twin ask telepathically.

I don’t know,
Alex admitted, despite not wanting to answer, stubbornly wanting to hang on to their grievances.

She glanced at the lunchroom clock and decided that she ought to get going. Cade would be waiting.

Something weird’s going on, Als,
she heard her sister thinking.

Tell me about it,
Alex sent back sarcastically. She picked up the brownie, got two sodas from the machine, and left the cafeteria without looking back at Cam.

Cade was late, which wasn’t like him. Alex took another sip of soda and scoped out the grounds again.

From her vantage point at the top of the bleachers, she could see pretty much all there was to see: the side of the school building, all bricks and ivy; the sports center, looking slapped on and out of place like a grounded gleaming spaceship; the track and playing fields. The field in front of her, where a couple of kids were kicking a ball around, was Cam’s turf — the arena of her sister’s soccer stardom.

And now strolling across it was Cade.

With Cam!

They were laughing. Yukking it up. So entertained by each other that they were totally oblivious of Alex — and the shock of searing anger reddening her face.

How had her newly bizarre sister split the lunchroom so fast? When and where had Cam latched on to Cade? And why was her arm, right this minute, sliding through Cade’s and clamping it with her Perfectly-Pink-tipped grip?

Cam looked up. Her lips twisted into an ugly smirk as she caught sight of Alex’s expression.

What do you think you’re doing?
Alex sent a terse telepathic shout-out.

Excuse me?
Cam blinked; her face shifted slyly from evil to innocent.
I looked the boy-toy over but, whoops, I guess I missed your Property-Of stamp.

Seething, Alex glanced at Cade. He was looking up at her, slack-jawed, his usually lively baby blues staring blankly.

You cast a spell on him!
she accused her sister.

Cam laughed.
You said we had to practice for our Initiation, didn’t you?

Alex felt it again: the same cold breeze that had set her shivering in the kitchen yesterday. And, as Cam drew nearer, the same stinging scent, a strange earthy smell that burned her nostrils and made her eyes water.

Jimsonweed and nettles!
Alex thought, surprised and pleased at her herbal recall.

Not Cade’s scent. Not Cam’s, either.

Instinctively, Alex seized her moon charm. She grasped it so tightly that it bit into her palm. Heedless of the pain, she glared at her sister, half expecting, half daring Cam to reach for her sun charm.

The two amulets had always been used in tandem, to magnify their magick. Now Alex feared Cam might use hers to set off a battle of wills.

But her twin didn’t reach for her gold charm. Her
twin, Alex suddenly realized, wasn’t wearing the powerful necklace at all. She must have taken it off when she met up with Cade.

Taken aback but relieved, Alex ordered: “Undo it, Cam! Undo the spell. Right now!”

As if the sound of her voice had roused him, Cade blinked. The film that had dulled his eyes lifted. “Hey,” he said, looking at Alex with a radiant smile, “there you are. I’m …” He turned his head, twisted his neck as if the muscles were tight. “I don’t know what happened. I… I just started feeling … strange. Like instant flu or something —”

“Poor baby,” Cam said tenderly to Cade. “That’s why I walked you here. You were standing in front of your locker looking totally sick and desperately in need of TLC. Well —” she crooned, grinning like a demented smiley face, “have a nice day.”

“We’ve got to talk,” Alex said after school that day, crashing into their room and winging her backpack onto her overburdened bed.

“You said it!” Cam spun around in her computer chair to glare at her sister.

“What’s going on?!” they demanded at the same time.

“Excuse me?” Cam said indignantly.

“Right back atcha!” Alex growled.

“Okay. Time-out.” Cam made a T sign with her hands. “Why does Emily think I don’t want a sweet sixteen party?”

“Duh, let me think.” Alex laid a finger along her cheek exactly as Cam had done during their kitchen confrontation. “Because you told her so?”

“No way!” Cam was exasperated.

“Right after you told her I’d rather be dead than go to a sweet sixteen party.”

“Put on your pj’s, Alex — you must be dreaming!”

“And I suppose I dreamed up your flirting with Cade today?”

“Like I dreamed up your telling Beth I thought she needed to get her hair cut by a person instead of a hay mower? I couldn’t believe you came to soccer practice this afternoon and said that right in front of me! Everyone thought you’d gone mental!”

“Soccer practice? I don’t know what you’re trying to pull,” Alex snapped back. “I didn’t go near your Six Pack of snotty sycophants —”

“Sycophants? What’d you interrupt your Coventry reading for, a quick dip in the dictionary? Oops, I forgot. You’re not getting initiated —”

“Oh, really? Who gave you that flash?”

They were breathing hard, glaring at each other,
their hands balled into fists, mouths moving faster than their brains.

A familiar fragrance wafted off Cam — a clean, crisp scent of chamomile, rosemary, and sweet violets, the scent Alex recognized as her sister’s. Which reinforced the certainty that the stinging spicy odor that had hit her on the bleachers had not been Cam’s. Nor had it been Cade’s warm, fresh scent.

Alex felt the hot rage draining from her. “Cam, don’t you feel it? Something’s up,” she blurted.

“Something’s off,” Cam agreed. Her hands uncurled, her hunched fight-or-flight shoulders dropped as she faced … her sister. Her identical twin. Her Alex. “I’ve been trying to tell you that.”

Alex’s metallic-gray eyes never left Cam’s. “The only thing radically new in our lives is that our Initiation’s started. Maybe whatever’s going on is part of that. I mean, do you think this is some kind of test?”

“Not a bad idea.” The thought, spoken aloud in a strong, ringing voice, was Lady Rhianna’s. The Coventry Elder was staring into a large, jagged crystal. In the faceted stone she, and the impulsive young witch breathing down her neck, had seen the twins facing off at each other.

Rhianna sneezed — then frowned accusingly at Boris,
the marmalade cat in Ileana’s arms. “Someone is playing a trick on Camryn and Alexandra,” she managed to say before sneezing again.

“It’s unfair, unjust!” Ileana cried with such passion that Boris leaped off her, screeching and hissing, his orange hackles raised. “Someone is setting them against each other. Forcing them to act out of anger,” she fumed.

Rhianna raised her eyebrows. “A topic you know a bit about,” she chided.

But the beautiful young witch didn’t take the bait. “We’ve got to warn them. This is not a rehearsal — they’re being viewed right now!”

“So they are,” the Elder continued, relieved that the cat, to which she was allergic, had scampered away. “And even though we didn’t plan this, I say we don’t interfere. It will be a perfect — if unexpected — test of intuition for them to flush out and deal with this wild card they’ve been dealt.”

“It’s a bad idea,” the twin’s guardian asserted hotly. “A very bad idea! Someone is cheating! Someone with a stake in ruining my charges’ Initiation!”

“My charges! So it’s all about Ileana.” Rhianna pulled a cloth purposefully over the crystal. She was scowling at Ileana but couldn’t help remembering that the girl, the beautiful and impetuous child, had been Karsh Antayus’s adored fledgling.

As it always did when she thought of her old, now-departed friend, Rhianna’s heart softened. “Lady Ileana,” she began. Then her eyes twinkled as she recalled what Karsh had confided to her, that the brazen young witch had rejected the title. No lady was their Ileana.

Rhianna cleared her throat but could not hide her smile. “I understand you prefer to be called goddess.” She tried to sound serious.

Ileana’s jaw dropped. She got as far as “But how —?” Then realizing that it must have been Karsh who’d told Rhianna, she burst into tears.

Which nearly brought tears to Rhianna’s eyes as well. “Yes, yes,” the wise old witch said, honking into her handkerchief. “We all miss him, Ileana. And we all share Lord Karsh’s certainty that Aron’s daughters are most magnificent fledglings and destined for leadership —”

“If that black-bearded, two-faced, cold-blooded brute doesn’t find a way to stop them,” Ileana shot back.

Rhianna raised her brows again. “I assume you’re speaking of your father?”

“Who else stands to gain if Apolla and Artemis fail their Initiation? Of course it’s Thantos who’s behind this.”

“Does this mean you believe they
can
fail?” Rhianna asked pointedly. “You, their guardian and champion? Surely you know them as well as anyone.”

Ileana saw the tricky old witch’s point. And had to
consider it. Did she think that Thantos, her merciless father and the twins’ uncle, could best them? Well, he’d certainly put in a good effort.

Ileana remembered the first day of the infants’ lives, when she and Karsh had hidden in the snowy woods with the babies, listening to the approaching clatter of Thantos and his bloodthirsty horde. He had not found them then. She recalled Karsh’s tale of how the twins had discovered each other, when once again, they’d escaped their uncle’s trap. And later, in Marble Bay when her treacherous father had tried to lure the twins to him. And again and again.

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