sticking a large pin into it.
“We’ll bind him so he has to stay with us,” I replied.
“Can we do that?” she whispered. “You know I’m not at my best on the water.”
“I know.” I patted her hand. “But you still have something you can put into the pot. Dorothy’s earth energies should be fine—even close to the water. We should be able to manage a binding spell. We’ll take him back to the shop and question him.”
We all agreed with the plan and started walking slowly around the top deck as the history of Wilmington unfolded around us.
We passed the USS
North Carolina
battleship as she lay at anchor for school tours and private visits. She would never set out to sea again, but the ship had faced many battles during World War II and deserved her cushy retirement.
There was a replica of a tall, three-masted sailing ship in harbor. It was modeled after one of the American blockade runners that had kept the Confederacy alive during the Civil War. At that time, the daring captains had outmaneuvered much larger ships to deliver supplies to the desperate citizens of the city.
It was painted bright blue, red and green—one of the old runners would never have wanted to draw that much attention. Hundreds of seagulls were perched on its masts.
We’d reached the bottom deck by that time. Several other passengers were going up to the top deck for a better view. There was only one other person on the bottom deck. It had to be Brian.
“He’s dressed differently,” Elsie noticed. “Was he wearing that cloak when he got on board?”
“No.” Dorothy sounded worried. “Where did he get
that
? Is it a witch thing?”
“Slowly,” I advised in a whisper as we approached him, ignoring their chatter. What difference did it make what he was wearing? “I know you don’t know a binding spell yet, Dorothy. Concentrate on what we want to do. Think about Brian not walking away from us. Envision that he’s bound to us by a rope. Got it?”
“I’ve got it.”
Elsie and I repeated the binding spell that had been in our spell book. I could hear the words in my head as I thought them. It was easy to recall since I’d used it many times for various purposes—none like this one.
He was standing at the railing, looking at the city, his back to us. The large, hooded cape he wore billowed around him. It should have been simple to catch him unaware.
But I was so caught up in trying to make the binding spell as strong as possible that I didn’t question anything until it was too late.
There was no face—no form that I could see—inside the cloak. If Brian had been there, he was gone.
“Molly?”
Dorothy’s voice was shaking as we faced the empty cloak.
Before I could reassure her, I heard a muttered spell, and in the blink of an eye, we were falling from the bottom deck of the boat and into the cold river water.
CHAPTER 8
I am invisible to my enemies.
They will not see me until it is too late.
I will bring them to their knees.
For their defeat, I wait.
I could happily have drifted in the river forever. There was no sense of panic or worry about survival. I felt more at home in water than I did on land.
Something rapped on the top of my head. It was Elsie. She pointed toward the surface, her cheeks puffed out with air, and started kicking her feet.
I became aware that my lungs were burning. It was one of those cases where the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. I started kicking my feet too and surfaced right next to her.
Dorothy’s head was already above the water. “What was that? Did someone throw us overboard? All of a sudden, I was in the water.”
“That”—Elsie spit out brown river water—“was a powerful witch.”
“He saw us coming,” I agreed. “He’d already worked his spell. We were too close to do anything about it.”
“Well, let’s face it—we’ve never had a run-in with a witch like him.” Elsie splashed around. “I think I’ve lost my shoes.”
It was