Diary of Anna the Girl Witch 1: Foundling Witch (9 page)

“I’m going to see where those stairs lead,” he said. “And I’ll look for keys to the cells.”

I nodded at his sound thinking and turned back to Mei. “Why are you in here?” I asked.

Then a terrible thought struck me. The man with the ponytail had said there were to be nine prisoners. I looked around the room. It had exactly nine cells. I ran from cell to cell. Three were empty, but all the others had small figures huddled on the beds. At the window of the last cell, another girl, one I didn’t recognize, stared at me with wide, frightened eyes. She put a trembling finger to her lips and said, “Shh!”

I ran back to Mei. “Tell me everything.”

Through her shaky sobs, Mei explained how the Montmorencys were using adoption as a front for their child slavery ring.

“I was supposed to be their poster child,” she said, sniffling, “the one they take to all their fancy balls to show what wonderful parents they are. But I couldn’t do it. They scare me too much! Marie said I always looked like she beat me, which she does. So I don’t know how I was supposed to look any other way. Now they keep me down here most of the time except when they need me to be on public display like last Friday. And Gaëlle’s the one they take to all the parties.”

Gaëlle!

“She’s with them tonight,” I said.

“Yes. They bring her down here every day to show her the empty cell next to mine. André tells her that if she doesn’t do just what they say, it will be hers. For now, they let her stay upstairs and go to school. But that’s just so they can pretend to be a happy family. They’re probably recruiting new kids right now.”

I thought of Gaëlle’s vacant eyes when she’d told me she was going away for the summer. Is that what she’d meant?

Mei grabbed my shirt through the bars. “You have to help us! Something big is going to happen and soon… They keep talking about the Nine. When they have nine prisoners, they’re going to ship us off somewhere. I don’t know where, but it’ll be even worse than here!”

“Do they have a deadline?” I asked.

Mei shook her head. Tears had smeared the dirt all over her face. Her hair was matted, and she shivered, rubbing her bare arms.

“I don’t know. As soon as they find nine prisoners, I guess. There seems to be some holdup getting the last ones. I heard André and that horrible man talking.”

I knew exactly what the holdup was: me. The man with the ponytail had said that I had to be part of the Nine. Well, I decided, he was just going to have to live with disappointment. I wasn’t going to be part of his scheme, and I would find a way to free these kids too.

Jean-Sébastien rumbled down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He was a little out of breath.

“There’s a guard room halfway up these stairs,” he said. “The guard’s asleep, but the keys are on his belt. There’s no way to get them without waking him up.”

I reached through the bars and gave Mei’s shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back for you, I promise.”

Mei nodded through her tears. “Be careful,” she said. “And Anna?”

I had started to turn away, but something in Mei’s voice stopped me.

“You know the man with the ponytail?” she asked.

I nodded.

“He speaks with a strange accent, almost like yours,” Mei said. “His name is Victor. André and Marie are mean, but Victor is really scary. They call him the Black Horseman. He’s the one to watch out for.”

From the way that André had deferred to him, I’d already suspected as much. Either Victor was in charge of this slavery ring or he would buy the children from André. Either way, just the fact that he recognized me on some level was spooky.

Jean-Sébastien and I ran up the stairs at the far end of the dungeon, snuck past the sleeping guard, and found ourselves in the hallway by the servants’ entrance. I glanced at my watch. No way we would make it through the forest and back to town before curfew. I didn’t even care; I had much bigger worries now.

The house seemed dark and empty, but we still stayed as quiet as possible, not knowing if there were cooks or housekeepers around. We eased open the back door, the same one I had run out of on Friday night.

As we crossed the garden, rage began to boil inside me. My dream stone grew hot under my shirt.

How dare those people steal innocent children and stick them in a dungeon? Sweet, gentle Mei had only wanted a family to love her. Instead, she found monsters and nightmares, and who knew what else when Victor came to collect his Nine?

I couldn’t understand how people could treat other human beings so horribly. My fists were clenching and unclenching at my sides. I could feel magic building in me, like steam in a kettle. Strangely, it had a color – although I couldn’t see it with my eyes, I knew it was cool blue. Like the ice on the rivers and lakes of Siberia.

Suddenly, barking echoed through the garden, and two dogs burst from the bushes, running at full speed. They were enormous black and brown beasts with pointed ears and vicious teeth.

“Come on!” Jean-Sébastien grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the tree line. The dogs swerved and headed straight for us. They were already just fifty meters away and closing fast. We would never make it off the property, and I wasn’t sure if the dogs would stop chasing us even then.

I stopped. Enough! Enough of André and Marie and their evil parties, their dungeons, and their creepy friends. Enough of their snarling dogs. Enough of my friends being mistreated!

Magic swelled in me, making me grow cold.

I turned and planted my feet. Holding tight to my dream stone, I took a deep breath and roared like a bear. The pent-up magic burst out of me and slammed into the dogs, hitting them like a chilly wave. One dog fell to the ground. The other somersaulted head over tail and landed in a heap beside his mate.

The night was deathly quiet again. Both dogs rose on wobbly feet, shaking their heads and whimpering.

“Leave us alone!” I growled. My voice sounded strange to my ears, deeper and darker than normal. A small ache throbbed in my chest as if the huge explosion of magic had left a hole there. The dogs tucked their tails between their legs and ran away, yipping.

Jean-Sébastien watched me thoughtfully.
Great.
Now I’d blown my secret. By tomorrow, everyone in Luyons would know I was a witch.

To my surprise, he just shook his head and smiled. “You are one strange girl, Anna Sophia.”

Yes,
strange
was becoming my middle name.

D
ear Diary
,

People, just like books, can’t be judged by their covers. Look at André and Marie. They appear to be good parents and kind-hearted benefactors. If you ask anyone in Luyons, they will say without hesitation that the Montmorencys are tremendous humanitarians.

But behind the booming laugh and the fancy ball gowns, they are slavers.

That theory works both ways too. Sister Constance has a reputation for sternness. She rarely has a kind word for anyone. A stranger, looking at the little family in our dorm house, would think that Sister Constance despises the children in her care. And yet, I’m starting to believe that might not be true…

J
ean-Sébastien zoomed
into the garage beside the orphanage. I jumped off the scooter and tossed him the helmet before he’d even cut the engine.

“Go check on Beatrice,” I said. “She was supposed to be with Gaëlle and Marie tonight.”

“Fine,” he said. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find someone who will believe me when I tell them that two of Luyons’ most prominent citizens are crooks of the worst sort.” And I had a good idea who would believe me. Sister Constance had always seemed suspicious of André and Marie. Of course, Sister Constance was suspicious of most people, but maybe that would work in my favor tonight.

We were fifteen minutes past curfew, but the door to my dorm was unlocked. Sister Constance liked to lull stragglers into a false sense of security. She would let them wander in ten or fifteen minutes late. But she always waited in the lobby with a stern word and a list of chores to be done as punishment for tardiness.

I hoped she would be there tonight.

I didn’t try to sneak in; I opened the door wide and ran inside. My dorm house wasn’t always the homiest home, but tonight, I was glad it was mine.

Sister Constance and Sister Daphne were drinking tea in the small parlor to the right of the lobby. Sister Constance looked up from her knitting and skewered me with her sharp eye.

“Anna Sophia!” her voice boomed. “You are sixteen minutes late for curfew. What do you have to say for yourself?”

I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I threw myself on the floor, wrapped my arms around her legs, and wept all over her latest knitted creation.

“Oh, Sister Constance, it was the most horrible thing I ever saw! Those poor girls!” For many minutes, I couldn’t get out more than that. The stress of the last few days had finally caught up with me. Sister Constance sat stiffly in my embrace, neither touching me nor pulling away. Sister Daphne knelt on the floor and rubbed my back.

“Dear girl, tell us what happened,” she said. “Has someone hurt you?”

“Daphne, don’t coddle her,” Sister Constance snapped. “This is probably just some ploy to get out of punishment for being late.”

“Constance, really! Can’t you see how upset the poor girl is? Now, Anna, you must calm yourself and tell us what happened. Here, take my handkerchief.”

I wiped my eyes with Sister Daphne’s frilly handkerchief; then I took a deep breath. Crying wouldn’t help Mei.

“We… I mean I went to Irvigne Manor to see Mei,” I didn’t want to tell them that Jean-Sébastien had been with me. I had no guarantee that they would believe my story, and I didn’t want to get him into trouble, too. “The house seemed empty, but Mei had promised me she’d be home, so I went inside.”

Okay, I was fibbing here, but I couldn’t tell them that I had walked through walls to get in. Not if I wanted them to hear my story to the end.

“Anyway, no one was there, but then I heard crying from the basement. I went down and found… I found Mei locked up like a prisoner!” I didn’t hold back any details. I told them about the other six children locked in dark cells, the stench of rot, and the frightening torture device sitting in the middle of the room. Most of all, I described the look of sheer despair on Mei’s face.

Sister Daphne looked shocked at my story: Her eyes grew wide as she listened. Sister Constance’s mouth just got thinner and thinner.

“I always knew those upstarts were up to no good,” she said eventually.

“Oh my gosh!” Sister Daphne jumped up and pressed both hands to her cheeks. “Little Beatrice is with them tonight. They’re going to ask her if she wants to be adopted!” She ran out of the room.

I hoped Beatrice would be all right, but I had other girls to worry about too.

Sister Constance glared at me through squinty eyes.

“If this is some trick to get out of curfew, young lady…”

“I promise you, it’s not! Something terrible is happening at Irvigne Manor, and we have to stop it.”

“Very well.” Sister Constance rose and wrapped a black knitted shawl around her shoulders. She picked up her cane and her purse, which looked more like a doctor’s bag, and said, “I guess we should be heading for the police station then.”

M
y relief
that an adult believed my story lasted until I met Constable Ouellette.

The police station was only three blocks from the Collège. Sister Constance and I walked there in silence, past the shops all closed for the evening. My nerves kept jumping. I’d never been part of a police investigation before. I knew I’d have to give a statement, but not much else. The police wouldn’t believe me without proof. That was their job. But the proof would be easy to find. All they had to do was visit the basement of Irvigne Manor.

The station house was brightly lit, though only one officer was on duty. The name tag on his shirt read “Ouellette.” Pale green walls reflected off his swarthy skin, turning it a sickly color. He had bushy eyebrows that I thought would make him look stern even when he smiled. Not that he smiled at us. No, all we got was a fierce frown and a glare.

Luyons is a tiny town; little that was exciting ever happened there. So Constable Ouellette had probably thought he was going to have an easy evening ahead of him and wasn’t pleased to be disturbed.

“We would like to report a possible kidnapping,” said Sister Constance.

“A definite kidnapping,” I said, but Sister Constance held up her hand to silence me.

“This young lady is in my charge at the Collège du Parc Cézanne. She has been witness to several children being held against their will.” Sister Constance pinched her lips together as if we were discussing someone’s bad manners.

“And where did this alleged kidnapping take place?” asked the constable.

“At Irvigne Manor,” I said.

His eyebrows snaked together. He looked at me; then at Sister Constance, and then back at me, his eyes boring into mine for what felt like several long minutes.

“Come with me,” he snapped. We followed him down a short corridor to an interrogation room.

“You sit in there,” he pointed at me. “You wait out there.” He pointed at Sister Constance and then to a chair along the wall outside.

“I’ll do no such thing!” Sister Constance puffed up her chest and stood tall. She barely reached the constable’s nose, but when she waved her cane in his face, he backed off a step. “I already told you that this young lady is in my charge. And she will remain so. If you wish to take her statement, you will do so in my presence. Is that understood, young man?”

Constable Ouellette mumbled an apology. I wasn’t surprised that Sister Constance could make even this hulking police officer feel like a naughty schoolboy. She had a gift.

The interrogation room was lit by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. More of the ghastly green paint reflected from the walls. The only furniture in the room was a small table with two chairs on either side, so the officer brought in another chair from the corridor. We all sat down, and Constable Ouellette took a notepad and pen from his shirt pocket.

“Start from the beginning,” he said. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

While he scribbled notes, I told him about the party on Friday and that I had overheard André and Victor talking about prisoners. Then I told him how I went looking for Mei in the empty house.

“I thought it was strange that she wasn’t around school,” I said. “I was worried.”

“But you saw her at this party on Friday night. Is that right?” Constable Ouellette asked.

“Yes.”

“Did anybody else see her at the party?”

That was an odd question.

“I don’t know; I suppose so. There were a lot of people there.”

“So you broke into the Montmorencys’ house because you were worried about your friend.”

“I didn’t break in! The door was open.” Okay, still lying. But “breaking in” implied that I had broken a window or something and they wouldn’t find any evidence of that. “And I found her. She was in the basement with five other kids. They’re still there, locked in a dungeon. I swear! That place is disgusting—”

Constable Ouellette held up a hand.

“Wait a minute. You expect me to believe that André and Marie Montmorency, two of Luyons’ most upstanding citizens, have children locked in their basement?”

“Yes! I know it sounds crazy, but they need three more. That Victor guy kept talking about the Nine. They need nine children for something… Gaëlle is number seven, I believe. Beatrice is about to become number eight… and I think they want me for number nine.”

I knew I was starting to sound crazy, but I told the constable about the conversation I had overheard between Victor and André.

“Victor insisted that a certain child be among the Nine, but André said he’d tried to adopt her three times already. That’s me! He’s asked me to join their family three times. I swear I’m not making this up!”

To my surprise, Sister Constance took my hand and squeezed it. At least someone believed me. The police would too, as soon as they raided Irvigne Manor.

But Constable Ouellette seemed to have other ideas. He sat back, tipping his chair on two legs, and glared at me. His eyes were almost entirely black, with little difference between his iris and his pupil. His gaze fell on me heavily. I felt magic in that glare. It was sort of like the feeling I’d had when I had walked through walls. All my bones turned rubbery as if they wouldn’t hold me up.

Soon the magic encircled me, pressing in. My hands rose to my throat. I couldn’t breathe! Constable Ouellette continued to focus on me. A small smile tugged at his mouth. He was suffocating me with his magic… The room was starting to go fuzzy, and I knew I had to do something soon, or I would black out.

I gathered my own magic into a tight ball in my stomach – this time it felt warm, and I imagined it purple in color – and lashed out. It hit Constable Ouellette in the chest, sending him and his chair crashing to the floor. His notebook fell open on the table, and I managed to read his underlined note: