Free Witch & Wizard by James Patterson, Gabrielle Charbonnet Page A

more uncivil disturbances of any kind.”
    Suddenly I felt weak in the knees, numb—paralyzed, actually. I remembered the feeling—how could I forget?
    He was there, he’d just appeared, and he’d already ruined everything. The stuffy decorum, the New Order, the boring sameness… it was all back in place.
    “I am The One Who Is The One. Just in case you forgot or possibly repressed the memory.”
    He strode forward until he was right on top of Whit and me.
    “I have been observing you: here in the court, back at the Hospital. You see, youngins, I am everywhere, and obviously I am all-powerful, and you are not!”
    He looked at Whit and actually gave a wink. “I can even shut
your sister
up. So who can doubt my power? Now… there will be more tests, tests, tests,
tests.
Until we find the answer I’m looking for, until we solve the puzzle of the Allgoods. I want to know about their power! Antigravity? Healing? Immortality? Physical transformation? Telekinesis?
    “Take the prisoners back to the Hospital! And no more Mister Nice Guy tactics. Double their workload, double the tests, double the discomfort. I want
answers!
”
    Finally his Oneness bent toward me, stopping just inches from my chin.
    “
Witcheria,
is there anything you would like to say? Anything at all? Perhaps you’re offended by the phrase ‘kindergarten nonsense,’ which I used to describe your paltry tricks here today? Well, you know the famous saying—of course you do—‘TRICKS’ ARE FOR KIDS! Get them both out of my sight!”
    And then, I swear this is true, it was like a category-five hurricane was in that courtroom—and then The One Who Is The One was gone.
    With the wind?

Wisty
    WHAT IS THAT dumb saying?
What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.
Well, maybe there was some truth there. I definitely felt stronger, and angrier. I was burning up inside.
    When we were returned to our cell in the Hospital, I was expecting the Matron to rush in and stun-gun us till we screamed for mercy. I was expecting the Visitor to come whip us to shreds with his riding crop. I was expecting them to throw us to the hellhounds for
their
supper.
    Instead, it got a little worse than that.
    They sent… Byron Swain.
    Byron Snotty Traitor Suck-up Quisling Hall Monitor Swain. I wished we were back at our school, so Whit could have pounded him into the dust.
    “Hail, prisoners,” Byron said in that snide, nasal voice that could make a statue of Jesus roll its eyes in disgust.
    “What do you want? Just couldn’t stay away?” I asked. “Or are you a little Visitor-in-training?”
    “So, we meet again,” said Byron. Like before, he looked freshly dipped in antiseptic. His brown hair was just so, his eyes cold, perfect marbles. His chinos had a sharp crease down each leg.
    My eyebrows rose. “That’s the best you could come up with? ‘We meet again’? I mean, cliché much?”
    When I’d first arrived at the Hospital for the Supposedly Deranged, I’d been a scared, freaked-out kid. Now I felt like the freak-out bar had been raised pretty high. I wasn’t going to let Ferret Face get me down.
    Byron flushed and pressed his lips tightly together. “Shut up, witch!” he snapped. “Or I’ll tell the Matron to stun-gun you till you have no more attitude than a head of lettuce.”
    Byron gave me a sardonic smile that I was sure he had practiced in a mirror, probably right after one of his sterile baths. “Now hear this. You have both been designated
Extremely Dangerous,
which is how the New Order characterizes the most severe threats and worst enemies.”
    “Extremely Dangerous,” Whit said. “We’re honored. We’d like to thank our parents, of course. And Coach Schwietzer at the high school.”
    Byron, or the Tattling Weasel, as I decided he should henceforth be known, went on. “As it happens, it turns out to be both good news and bad news for you. The good news is that you get a pass on all of those tests you heard about at trial. And the bad