Diary of Anna the Girl Witch 1: Foundling Witch (8 page)

“Did you see where he went?” the man asked.

“No, he must have turned the other way,” said André. “Sound echoes strangely in the hedge…” Their voices faded as they moved farther away.

I sagged in relief, rubbing my ankle, which was starting to swell. I must have twisted it when I’d fallen. I didn’t care; I was just happy to be out of the labyrinth and glad that André and his friend hadn’t seen me. I leaned against the wall, which was solid against my back. I had no idea how I’d moved through it as if it were made of water.

“What are you doing out here?” The voice startled me enough that I rose, ready to run again. But it was only Jean-Sébastien with Luca at his side. They were doubtless looking for mischief, unaware that much worse dangers could befall them at Irvigne Manor.

“You shouldn’t be out here!” I said. If André found them, he’d think the boys were the ones in the hedge maze.

“I could say the same about you,” Jean-Sébastien said, folding his arms.

“Never mind,” I said. We had more important things to worry about than our usual feud. “Luca, please run inside and find Lauraleigh. Tell her I’m sick, and I need to go home.”

Luca nodded and ran off. “And get Beatrice too!” I called after him.

No way would I leave Beatrice alone in this horrible house.

Now, as I limped to the front of the house, leaning on Jean-Sébastien for support, I realized that I needed to find a way to get Gaëlle and the other girls out, too.

D
ear Diary
,

Walking through walls isn’t as easy as I thought. The bump on my forehead proves it. After all that excitement at Irvigne Manor on Friday, I decided to start practicing my magic. That trick of moving through solid brick will come in handy when I need to sneak out of my dorm. For now, I can’t even manage to walk through the flimsy door on my cupboard. I try to recapture the odd sensation that came over me in the labyrinth, when my bones went all soupy. But it’s like a dream I can’t remember, now that I’m awake.

Did I actually go through a brick wall? Or is my memory playing tricks on me? I replay those moments over and over again in my mind. I can’t see any other way I could have escaped the labyrinth. Yes, I did go through that wall. Now if only I could do it again. Maybe my powers only work in extreme situations? They always seem to be fueled by fear or some other strong emotion. I wish I knew another witch to guide me in these things.

Then I could go back to Irvigne Manor and snoop around. Something is definitely not right in that house. Who is the man with the Russian accent? He stared at me like he recognized me, but I’ve never seen him before in my life. I suppose he might be a friend of Uncle Misha’s, but I can’t imagine my kind uncle associating with such a nasty person.

I need more information, and I think the only place I will find it is inside Irvigne Manor.

D
uring the last
week of school, with exams over, we mostly played games and watched movies. The graduating students threw parties where they tearfully signed each other’s yearbooks and promised to keep in touch as they went on to college, work, or travel.

I would miss Lauraleigh. She decided to take a year off from school and tour Europe. It sounded like a wonderful adventure, and I wished I could join her. With all my worries about Gaëlle and the Montmorencys, my little town didn’t feel homey anymore.

On Monday, Gaëlle brought my backpack to school. I tried not to tear it open and check for Squire. All weekend long, I had worried about abandoning him at the manor.

“I’ll be leaving next week,” said Gaëlle. I squeezed my bag and was relieved when I felt the hard lump of Squire.

“What do you mean, ‘leaving’?”

“Marie and André spend summers at their home in Scotland.”

“Shouldn’t you say, ‘Mother and Father’?” I asked.

“What?”

“Don’t you call them ‘Mother and Father’?”

“Oh, right.” Gaëlle lowered her eyes and looked ashamed. “I guess it’s still new to me... having a family.”

Oh, how I wished she would tell me what was going on. But she didn’t. Something terrible must have been going on, and she didn’t want me to get mixed up in it.

“Well, I’m going to miss you,” I said, giving my friend a hug. “I’m sorry we never had our sleepover.”

“It’s for the best,” Gaëlle said with a sad smile. “You snore anyway.”

“I do not!” I said with mock indignation, but I was glad to see this show of the old Gaëlle. Maybe all was not lost yet.

“Well, I’m off now,” she said. “Marie is the keynote speaker at some women’s league tonight. I promised to bring Beatrice along. We’re going to be her cheering section.”

“Poor you, another fancy ball!”

It did sound horrible to me. I never cared much for dressing up and impressing people. Even worse, I shuddered at the thought of Beatrice spending more time with Marie. The little girl saw only the glamor and the toys, parties, and dresses. Beatrice always wanted a new family, and the Montmorencys were tough to turn down. The fact that I had done it no less than three times made me seem a little strange to most people. That was okay; I could deal with strange.

Classes were finished for the day. I strolled through the courtyard for some fresh air. So the Montmorencys might be out for the evening. A plan began to form in my head. I’d walked through a brick wall once; I was sure I could do it again under the right circumstances. If I could figure out how to control my magic, sneaking into Irvigne Manor would be relatively easy, and I could find out what was lurking in the basement. Did André keep prisoners in there? If not, what was he hiding?

I just needed to find a way to get to the manor and back before curfew.

I couldn’t ask Lauraleigh to drive me. She wasn’t the snooping-around type. Besides, she would want to hear all about my suspicions and take them straight to Sister Constance. I couldn’t tell anybody, not until I had proof.

Jean-Sébastien! He was always coming up with schemes to make money or experience unusual adventures. For a rascal, he was quite industrious. During the past two summers, he had weeded gardens and trimmed bushes for some of the orphanage’s wealthy neighbors. In the winter, he’d shoveled their walkways. He’d saved enough to buy a scooter.

I wished he owed me a favor instead of the other way around, but I couldn’t think of any other way. I’d have to ask him for a lift.

When I found him, he was cleaning his scooter in the small garage behind the orphanage. A pail of soapy water sat beside him as he wiped down the tire rims with a wet cloth.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual. No need to let on how urgent this mission was. I already owed him one favor that I would probably never be able to pay, so I decided to appeal to his sense of adventure. “Does Mei go to your school?”

“Mei?” he asked, looking up from his chore. His brownish-blond hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away with a soapy hand.

“Yeah, you remember Mei. She used to bunk with me. André and Marie adopted her about two years ago, but she doesn’t go to the Collège. I thought she might be at your school.”

“Oh, that Mei. No, I haven’t seen her for ages. Why?”

“I don’t know.” I shifted from foot to foot, unsure how much to tell him. “Don’t you think it’s odd she isn’t in school? I saw her at the party on Friday, so she still lives with them, and… well, she didn’t seem happy.”

Jean-Sébastien stood up and stared at me with a frown. He wiped his hands on the cloth and threw it in the pail. “What exactly are you saying?”

For the first time, I noticed a bit of fuzz had grown on his upper lip. And when had he grown taller than me? I felt awkward and stepped back, pretending to be angry.

“I’m saying that something weird is going on at Irvigne Manor. Gaëlle walks around like a ghost, and during that party, Marie treated Mei more like a servant than a daughter. I’m saying I want to find out what is really happening there. Are you in or out?” I folded my arms and glared at him.

Jean-Sébastien shrugged. “Sounds like fun. I’m in. When?”

“Right now. We need to be back before curfew. I’ll drop my books off in my room, and we can go.”

He considered my words for a moment, and I thought he’d refuse. Then he nodded. “I’ll meet you at the back gate.”

D
ear Diary
,

My pen is shaking as I write, so I apologize for my terrible penmanship. I’ve had the most upsetting night. I don’t even know where to begin.

If André appeared in front of me right now, I would turn him into a toad. No, I like toads. He should be something much worse: a slug. Or a weevil. Something disgusting that people will step on without a second thought…

I
ran to my room
, dumped my books, and emptied my backpack of everything but Squire. I had a feeling I would need his special talents. As an afterthought, I added a candle and some matches to wake him up.

Just as he had promised, Jean-Sébastien was waiting for me by the back gate. He tossed me an extra helmet, which was a little too big, but wearable. I straddled the seat and clasped my hands around his waist.

I’d long ago gotten over the “boys have cooties” fear, but Jean-Sébastien and I had never been close friends. We had been distant rivals at best. Now, zooming down the lake coast with my arms wrapped around him, I felt very grown-up. I imagined that, one day, I might even go on a date with a boy like him. My mind wandered, thinking of dances and picnics and all the other romantic things that the older girls like Lauraleigh were always chattering about. It had all sounded silly to me before, but now? Now I was starting to see the appeal. It was rather exciting to go on this adventure with Jean-Sébastien.

He said something over his shoulder, but the wind whipped his words away. I didn’t care. Instead, I enjoyed the beauty of the setting sun as we turned west towards the hills and Irvigne Manor.

We parked the scooter about a kilometer from the house and hid it in the bushes.

“We don’t want them to hear the motor,” Jean-Sébastien explained. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

I suspected that he had more experience than I in the snooping department.

Even though the sun hadn’t sunk below the mountains yet, the forest was filled with shadows. We followed a path that was probably made by forest animals rather than hikers, but it led in the general direction of the manor. I was used to my majestic forest behind the Collège, with ancient tree trunks so fat I couldn’t encircle them with my arms. This forest had none of that peace and grandeur. The trees were thin, leaving enough light for the undergrowth to have flourished. I wondered if this land had been ravaged by fire in the past.

We emerged from the trees at the far end of the Irvigne property, near where our balloon had landed. The labyrinth stood between the house and us. I really wanted to know what was inside the gazebo at the center of the maze. First, however, we had to find Mei and make sure she was all right.

We watched the silent house for several long minutes. With the setting sun reflecting on the glass, I couldn’t tell if there was any movement in the windows.

“What are we looking for?” asked Jean-Sébastien.

“We need to be sure that André and Marie have left for the gala first. Then we have to find Mei,” I said.

Jean-Sébastien nodded. I liked that he let me take charge. I’d been worried that he would blunder about and ruin my whole plan, but he seemed happy enough to let me lead the way.

“Let’s keep to the trees and work our way to the front of the house. If Marie’s car is gone, then the house should be empty,” I said.

He led the way, and I was impressed by how quietly he moved through the trees. My feet seemed to find every twig to stumble over.

The Montmorencys’ property was big. Nearly twenty minutes later, we crouched in the bushes beside the front driveway. The sun was only a glow on the horizon now, and I could clearly see that all the windows were dark. And Marie’s car was gone.

“Looks like the coast is clear,” Jean-Sébastien said. “How do you know that Mei didn’t go with them to the party?”

I shrugged. “Just a feeling. I don’t think Mei gets to go on too many outings.” I remembered the way that Candace had treated her like a servant. Is that why the Montmorencys had adopted so many girls? So that they could have free servants to take care of them? But that didn’t make sense. I’d seen Gaëlle’s room; she had everything she could want. Servants weren’t treated like that.

There was only one way to solve this mystery: Get into the house.

“Hopefully, they left a door or window open,” said Jean-Sébastien.

I nodded. Were we really going to break into the Montmorencys’ house? I had a moment of indecision. What if I was completely wrong about the situation? I was about to commit a crime; what if we got caught? Then I remembered that awful smell and the chilling cry from the basement. Someone – or something – was down there, suffering. I just knew it. And I couldn’t just walk away and leave them to suffer, crime or not.

We tried the windows along the front. They were all locked; so were the rear windows. I could have tried to walk through the wall again, but my efforts to repeat that bit of magic hadn’t worked out so well. Besides, I didn’t want Jean-Sébastien to see me go through solid brick. No way would he keep that secret.

“Don’t they have dogs?” he asked suddenly.

“I think so. Some time ago, Gaëlle mentioned something about Rottweilers, I believe.”

Jean-Sébastien glanced around nervously. “We’d better find a way inside soon or else give up and go home. Those dogs could be around here anywhere.”

“I think I know another way inside.” I pointed to the hedge maze.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Jean-Sébastien. “I’m not going in there. We’ll get lost for sure.”

“No, it’s easy. I’ve already been through it. Come on.”

Inside the hedges, I didn’t hesitate. Like the last time, the going was easy until we came to the first crossroads. There I remembered to go straight. The next turns were easy too. My dream stone started to tingle, and I knew we were on the right path. I took the stone off my neck, and when I made one wrong turn, it actually jumped in my hand. I returned to the right path, and the stone kept happily buzzing. I just hoped that in the dim light, Jean-Sébastien hadn’t seen anything unusual.

When we had rounded the last hedge and stood in front of the small building with the iron door, he asked, “What’s that?”

“I don’t know. But I saw André and a strange man here on Friday, and when they opened the door, I felt something… something bad.”

“I can see why,” Jean-Sébastien said. He shuddered and pushed his hands deep into his pockets. “This place gives me the creeps.”

Well, we couldn’t stand around forever. “Did you hear that?” I asked sharply.

“What?” His head whipped around.

“I thought I heard footsteps. You’d better go around the corner and stand guard. I’ll try to get inside. Call out if you see anybody.”

Jean-Sébastien nodded and hurried around the corner. Of course, there was no place for us to run if someone really was nearby, but I wasn’t worried. I’d made those footsteps up, of course. I just needed him out of the way so that I could get into the gazebo.

First, I tried the door handle, but it was locked. I couldn’t see any other windows or openings. There was no alternative; I’d have to go through the solid iron door.

Clutching my dream stone, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that I was made of fog, like the wispy trails that would creep through the forest at times. Slowly, I walked forward with my hands outstretched. Any minute, I’d feel the iron door. Instead, I kept walking. A coldness brushed through me, and then I had that same feeling of bones turning into pudding. Holding back the panic that threatened to overwhelm me, I kept going until the sluggishness released me and I fell to a solid (thankfully) stone floor.

I gulped in air as if I’d been starved for it. The room was completely dark, so dark that my eyes might as well have been closed. A slight breeze brought that sick smell wafting up from behind me. I jumped to my feet and felt along the wall for the door. The lock was a stiff handle that I could barely turn with two hands, but I managed to twist it and open the door.

Softly, I called out to Jean-Sébastien, and he darted around the corner.

“The door was unlocked,” I lied. “Come on, I think there’s a tunnel back here. It might lead to the house.”

Before closing the door and sealing us in that darkness, I lit the candle from my backpack. It didn’t give off much light and threw dancing shadows around us, but at least we could see the narrow tunnel leading down.

“What’s that smell?” asked Jean-Sébastien. He held the sleeve of his shirt over his nose.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but I smelled it coming from the basement of the house on Friday, too. That’s why I think this tunnel leads there.”

We walked in silence after that. The floor was paved with damp flagstones. The brick walls were worn smooth with age. Metal sconces appeared at regular intervals, but they had no torches in them and probably hadn’t for decades. The tunnel never turned. It was one straight path, gently sloping down into the ground and, I reckoned, under the garden. From reading local history, I’d learned that many of those old castles had secret passageways and escape tunnels for use in time of war. How many people – families, children, and servants – had fled attacks through this narrow tunnel? My dream stone continued to hum, and I wondered if it had picked up on the anxiety that seemed to seep from the brick walls.

Finally, we came to the second iron door, but this one was about six inches ajar. The hinges had rusted solid; even using our combined strength, we couldn’t push it open any further.

“We’ll have to squeeze through,” I whispered. “You first.”

Jean-Sébastien was tall and lanky; with some effort, he pushed himself through the small space. I willed my bones to pudding again and slipped through. It was getting easier each time.

A faint sob stopped us in our tracks.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

Jean-Sébastien nodded.

We continued on, and the sobbing grew louder. It was the voice of a girl. I could hear her clearly now, but the tunnel curved ahead, and I could see nothing beyond it. We rounded the corner and entered a dungeon. At least it looked like every dungeon I’d ever seen in movies.

Only one oil lantern lit up the large, rectangular room. Barred cells lined each wall. At the far end, stairs led up into shadows. Those were probably the stairs I’d peered down on Friday night. In the middle of the room was a huge apparatus, with pulleys, ropes, and bars, surrounding a worn wooden chair. It looked like some kind of antique torture device. I shuddered, just looking at it.

The crying came from the cell closest to us. A small barred window in the metal door was the only way to see inside. I stood on tiptoe and grasped the rusty bars.

“Is someone in there?” I asked. The crying stopped. The cell was completely dark. I heard a shuffling sound, like someone getting up, and I raised the candle higher. A dirt-smeared face blinked in the light.

“Mei!” I gasped.

“Anna Sophia! You can’t be here. They’ll find you.”

“It’s okay. No one is home. We came to look for you.” I glanced back at Jean-Sébastien. His face was pale in the flickering light. He was as shocked as I to find Mei locked up in this horrible place.