Lizzie nodded.
“Be strong Lizzie,” Nick said, releasing his grip from Lizzie’s mouth.
The demon stepped forward and towered over Lizzie so she had to crane her neck back to look at her face. He smiled, revealing a mouth of pointed teeth, and then he spoke: “I am the demon Gaap. Behold me, and be sore afraid.
“I come as a messenger for a powerful sorcerer. It was the Sorcerer who sent me here this yesternight to steal away your sister. It is he who now holds your sister for ransom. If you do what he wants, he promises he will return her to you unharmed. Otherwise, she shall die.”
He paused, and then she heard his voice...felt his voice—evil and painful—inside her head: We can help one another.
Aloud he said, “The Sorcerer seeks the Spear of Power. This following midnight you must bring it to this one you know as Knecht Ruprecht.” He pointed at the gnome.
Lizzie looked at Nick and whispered, “Nick?”
The demon nodded. Again his thoughts invaded Lizzie's mind, I willingly serve none. The Sorcerer controls me with a glyph of pain he crosses over my sigil.
“Tell no one of this meeting,” he continued aloud. “Tell no one what you must do. Come alone. Any trickery would be foolish. He sees all.” He looked up into a nearby tree and Lizzie followed his gaze to the crow she knew she’d find there. The crow had his head turned sideways, his eye on Lizzie.
When I tell you to act, Gaap's thoughts clawed into her brain, you must not hesitate. If you do what I ask, you will keep the Spear. And I shall be free.
“Remember,” he said aloud, leaning down to Lizzie and putting the claw of his index finger just inches from her nose, “tell no one and at midnight bring the Spear. Otherwise, your sister dies.”
He straightened and his wings flapped in great powerful sweeps. The force of the wind blew Lizzie to the ground. Dirt and leaves whirled around her and she closed her eyes.
When she opened her eyes and looked up, only Nick was there, looking down on her. “I am sorry, Lizzie Long. It is not me. Be strong.” With a sandpaper sound Nick imploded into a spot, and all that remained was a cicada, bug eyed and buzzing its clear wings loudly. In an instant he was gone.
Lizzie stood up, trembling all over, her legs feeling like jelly.
Birdie came down from the house and met her at the back gate. Lizzie patted the dog on the head and went back into the house.
Lizzie sat in the den for awhile, waiting for her heart to slow, fighting to push the terror down. Then she went to tell her mother goodnight.
She found her mother in the master bedroom, asleep in a rocker, a string of rosary beads in her hand.
Lizzie pulled the comforter off the bed and covered her mom as best she could. Then she lay down and waited for the sun to rise.
Her dad was right. She was Lori's best chance. Her only chance.
Chapter 27 — Rescue Mission
“Ayeeeee!” the shrunken head cried.
Manuel opened his eyes. He’d been in a deep sleep. Sunlight filtered through the metal blinds.
“Ayeeeee!” the shrunken head cried. “They are...hurting him.”
“What?” Manuel asked it. “Who?”
“We’ve got to help him. We need to go.”
“Where?”
“WE NEED TO GO NOW!” the shrunken head shouted.
Manuel’s mom walked out of the bedroom. She had a crease on her cheek from having something pressed against it as she slept.
“Something is wrong,” Manuel told her.
“We need...to go...and rescue him,” the head now sobbed.
Manuel’s mom shook her head very slightly. She looked so tired and weak Manuel felt guilty for asking, “Can we? Will you take me?”
“No puedo,” Miss Garcia said with a tired sigh. Then she added, as if in defense of her answer. “We don’t know where he is.”
“He told us where he was when he called us yesterday,” Manuel said. “Remember? Mississippi?”
His mom nodded. “Si. Vicksburg. But it is a big town.”
“I know exactly where he is,” the head said. “I am a part of Gordon. When he feels pain or pleasure, I feel it. When he is worried, I worry. And when he is really pressed, I can even hear and see what he sees. I saw the demon attack him...a monster of a creature, ten feet tall with burning red eyes. It was a building down by the river, on a steep brick street. I’d recognize the door Gordon entered.”
“Mom,” Manuel pleaded. “We have to. Remember the little girl? Gordon thinks Akers has something to do with a kidnapping.”
“But what can we do?” she asked. “If Gordon was captured, with what he can do, then what do you think will happen to us when we try to rescue him?”
“But we have the head,” Manuel said. “He can tell us when Gordon is alone.” Manuel turned to the head. “You can, can’t you?”
“Quite right, Sparky,” the shrunken head answered.
“And then we can go in and set him free,” Manuel said.
Miss Garcia nodded. She looked defeated and it made Manuel feel low to be forcing her to help. But he said these words anyway because he knew they were true. “He would do it for me.”
Manuel’s mom nodded. “I’m going to pack some clothes. Tomorrow is Labor Day so I won’t be missing work if we can get back before Tuesday.”
“Thanks, mom,” Manuel said. He jumped up and ran to his mother and gave her a big hug.
Chapter 28 — The Accusation
The doorbell rang and Lizzie's mom awoke with a jerk. “What is it?” she said in a startled voice.
“Doorbell,” Lizzie answered from the bed.
“It must be the police,” her mom said, quickly getting to her feet. “They must have news.” She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and went downstairs.
But the two uniformed officers had little news. A search party had been formed, and at dawn volunteers and officers began scouring the fields and woods behind their house.
“Where is my husband?” Mrs. Long asked.
“We're still holding him for questioning.”
“Still? Why?”
“Sorry, ma'am, you'll have to ask Detective Cole about that. He'll be here this afternoon.”
Mrs. Long stared at the men in stunned silence as they walked back to their squad car.
There was nothing for Lizzie to do. She couldn't go with the Spear to search for Lori—the demon had made it clear what would happen if she did. She didn't want to watch the television with her mom—she knew there would be no news. All she could do was wait.
She went to her schoolroom and shut the door behind her. How scared Lori must be with the demon Gaap and that sorcerer. She imagined him now, old and bent, skin waxy-pale, eyes black and piercing, his purple robe flowing down to the ground. What a great Spear Bearer she had turned out to be—only a few weeks on the job and she was about to give up the Spear. But Gaap had told her there would be a chance. Would she take it? Could she risk Lori getting hurt?
After an hour of worrying, she came up with a better idea. She pushed the desks out of the way and began to practice her Tai-Kwon-Do forms. It always helped to calm her before a meet. So she went through the movements, kicking, punching, spinning, always concentrating, working to be precise. After awhile she began to feel better, stronger even.
In the afternoon, several people from their church came to the house. The women wore dresses, the men suits. It didn't seem possible, but it was Sunday. They had come right after attending services. Lizzie went back to doing her forms.
The next time the doorbell rang, it was Detective Cole. Mr. Pratt, one of the church people, let him in. The detective went directly into the office and shut the door.
Lizzie hurried down the stairs. Detective Cole was keeping her dad in jail...for no reason. And now he was snooping around the house without even telling her mom he was there.
The church people sat in the living room talking in hushed tones, in the same way people do in the sanctuary just before Mass.
They stopped when they saw Lizzie.
“Oh poor girl,” said one of the ladies.
Everybody wanted to hug her and pat on her, but she struggled to get by them. Mrs. Robinson, a heavy gray-haired lady, grabbed Lizzie and held her in a death grip; the powerful smell of mothballs and flowery perfume made her cough.
“Please...excuse me,” Lizzie said, pushing away, “I need to go.”
The ladies looked at her with expressions of concern. Mrs. Finch said, “There's food in the kitchen hun: roast beef, turkey, ham and rolls. Grapes, oranges, bananas. Can I make you a sandwich?”
“No thanks, ma'am,” Lizzie answered over her shoulder.
The detective had locked the office door. But Lizzie had the key.
Detective Cole sat in her dad's chair. He looked at her with a sneer as she came in. “I'm doing important police business. You need to leave.”
Lizzie stared at him with as mean a look as she could muster. He wasn't about to scare her away. She had faced Gaap—this little man wouldn't frighten her anymore.
“Okay. Have it your way,” he said. He looked down at the book he held in his hands. “Interesting book collection your dad has. Demonology. Necromancy. Witchcraft. Is your dad some sort of demon worshiper?”
She shook her head, too angry to speak.
“Hey,” he said, acting concerned, “I'm on your side. I want to protect you, if you'll let me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What did your dad do with Lori? Where were you the night Lori disappeared? Was it some ritual thing?”
She shook with anger. She imagined kicking him right between his too-close-together eyes.
“What's going on here?” her mom said. She must have seen the door cracked open.
Lizzie turned and looked into her mom's bloodshot and puffy eyes. “He thinks dad...” she started, but her throat got tight.
Mrs. Long didn't need to hear more. “Ya'all get out of our house. Don't come back until you have a warrant.”
“If you don't cooperate—” he began.
She screamed and pointed toward the door, “GET OUT!”
The detective nodded and laid the book down on the desk.
After he left the room, her mom began to cry again.
“It'll be alright, mom,” Lizzie said. She wished she could tell her more, but the demon said that the Sorcerer's eyes were everywhere.
Her mom came over and hugged her tight.
“Really mom,” Lizzie said, patting her mother's back, “It'll be alright.”
“Yes...yes,” her mom sputtered. “We need to just keep telling ourselves that, don't we?”
Chapter 29 - The Captive
Manuel’s mom had had a steady diet of coffee on the way down from Tulsa to Vicksburg. Now she had her seat leaned back as far as it would go and she slept. They were waiting. They had driven up the brick street that the shrunken head had described, they had seen the wooden faded-yellow door with the square black metal speakeasy opening, and they had seen the high windows dark and mysterious.
At the corner, along the street that ran parallel to the Yazoo River, the building had three garage doors opening onto the street. They decided to park down the street where they could see both the speakeasy door and the garage doors. And they waited.
They had arrived just as the sun was setting and now it was fully dark. Manuel ate Fig Newtons and potato chips, his mom slept, and the shrunken head moaned from time to time, but mostly remained silent.
An hour went by. And then another. They sat in the darkness, pretending to be just another parked car left on the street for the night.
Finally, Manuel saw headlights from the garage. He hadn’t seen the door go up. A long black car pulled out, turned toward them, blinding Manuel for a minute, and then turned and went up the steep road. He realized that the garage had remained unlit.
Manuel turned and looked at the shrunken head.
“He is alone,” the shrunken head said, somehow aware of Manuel’s questioning eyes even though its eyes were sewn shut.
Manuel took his mother’s hand in his and squeezed it.
She sighed deeply and opened her eyes.
“They’re gone,” Manuel said. “I’m going in to set him free.”
“Tenga cuidado,” his mom answered.
“I will.”
Manuel took the flashlight from the glove box and the shrunken head by the hair. When he reached the garage door he realized that he didn’t have a plan on how to get inside. The garage doors had no windows and were made of steel. The wooden door in front looked like something that belonged in a castle; the speakeasy had iron bars over it and was locked shut anyway.
“How are we going to get in?”
“We have acid that will eat through anything,” the head answered.
“We do?”
“You bet. On the shelf back in the trailer.”
“That’s a lot of help,” Manuel answered.
“Well...use what Gordon’s taught you,” the head said. “Use your mind to move that deadbolt.”
Manuel looked at the door for a minute. Then he said, “Are you nuts? I can’t even levitate a playing card yet.”
“Well, Sparky,” the shrunken head said, “Fine pickle you’ve got us into.”
Manuel wanted to toss the head into the river.
He looked up again at the window. He could jump high, but these windows were probably twenty feet up. “I need a grappling hook.”
“We have one of those,” the shrunken head answered.
“In the trailer?” Manuel asked.
“Righto, Sparky.”
Manuel groaned. Then he had an idea.
First, so he’d have his hands free, he looped the shrunken head’s hair through his belt. “What are you doing?” it asked.
Manuel ignored it.
He ran back to the car and popped open the trunk. With their old car it was a good idea to carry jumper cables, and they had extra long cables. It only took a minute to pull apart the positive cable from the negative cable. Then he ran back to the Sorcerer’s hideout. He dropped one cable on the ground and concentrated for a minute, studying the windowsill. He threw the cable up and the clamp caught on the sill and the rest of the cable hung down. Then he picked up the other cable and concentrated on the clamp above that dangled down and swung gently as a pendulum.
“Whacha doin’?” a slurred voice asked.
Manuel turned to find a tangled-haired man in tattered clothes swaying before him. The man looked up at the cable hanging from the window.
“Bugger off!” the shrunken head said.
The bum blinked and looked down at Manuel. He hiccupped. “Eh?”
“Bugger off, you!”
The bum’s eyes opened wide as he saw that it was the shrunken head talking. He hurried backwards, stumbling and tripping over the curb. “Wha...whas going on?” Then he turned and ran higgledy-piggledy up the street.
Manuel again looked up at the clamp, measured the distance in his mind, and tossed the other cable up so the clamps caught together.
“Bravo, Sparky,” the head said. “Maybe you’re a clever fellow after all.”
Manuel smiled. That almost sounded like a complement.
The cable still hung a couple feet above him, but Manuel easily jumped up and grabbed it, and lightly climbed the cables up to the window. Once he had his fingertips on the ledge he pulled himself up and balanced on the windowsill. The window hadn’t been locked, so he slid it up and jumped into the room. Manuel allowed himself a smile, scared as he was. He felt like a ninja. He pulled the jumper cables in and wound them up.
“He’s downstairs,” the shrunken head said.
Manuel turned on his flashlight and they ran down a hallway, found a narrow and steep staircase, and then they were in a room filled with boxes that smelled of motor oil and axle grease.
“Shine your torch straight ahead,” the shrunken head said. “There!”
There were more boxes and in front of that there was
a rolled up rug. “Where is he?”
“It’s dark...he can hardly breathe...he’s right here,” the shrunken head answered.
Manuel looked at the rug and realized that it seemed much fatter than a rug ought to look. He got down on his knees and quickly unrolled it.
Gordon had silver duct tape around his ankles, wrists and over his mouth. He lifted his arms up to Manuel and Manuel freed his hands. With one quick motion he pulled the tape off that covered his mouth. Rip. “Ouch!” he said. Then he said, “Akers has a girl. I don’t know what he plans to do with her, but I’m sure the devil is in it. We have to save her.”
“So they didn’t find the splinter?” Manuel asked. If Gordon and Manuel were to find the Sorcerer, they would need the splinter to track down Akers.
Gordon shook his head. “No. Probably why they didn’t just kill me. They want to know how I found them.”
“So where did you hide the splinter?”
“I didn’t exactly hide it,” Gordon answered slowly, now on his feet, his legs free. “I...swallowed it.”
Manuel thought of the long black splinter and looked at Gordon’s stomach.
Gordon looked down too. “I might need a visit to hospital when we straighten this out.” He frowned with a worried expression.
“Can you still...?” Manuel didn’t know how to ask.
“Oh yes, certainly,” Gordon answered. He stuck his little belly out and turned slowly in a circle. He stopped abruptly. “Yes. Still works!” He pointed in the direction his tummy faced. “They’re that way. The bike is in the garage. Let’s roll.”
Chapter 30 — A Little Girl Alone
At eleven forty-five, Lizzie went into the office and opened up the desk, where she had returned the Spear after hiding it under the couch. Since her mom was watching TV in the den, Lizzie had to sneak out the front door. She had dressed the same as the night they had went in search of the will-o'-wisp: jeans, long-sleeved shirt, waterproof hiking boots, and a vest.
Birdie began to jump up on her as soon as she went into the backyard. She grabbed her by the collar and held her down while running stooped over toward the back gate. She wished she could take her, but the Sorcerer might not approve and he might hurt Birdie...or Lori. After latching the gate, she shook her finger at the dog, which had begun to whine, and said, “Be quiet!”