Witch & Wizard: The Gift by James Patterson; Ned Rust

Author:James Patterson; Ned Rust
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Body, Political Ideologies, Magic, Brothers and sisters, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Fascism & Totalitarianism, Fantasy & Magic, General, Law & Crime, Political Science, Mind & Spirit, Totalitarianism, Fiction, Magick Studies
ISBN: 9780316036252
Publisher: Hachette Digital, Inc.
Published: 2010-12-13T04:44:31.957000+00:00

Chapter 51

Wisty

ALL RIGHT, we’re definitely on the inside now. Maybe Whit is right, maybe this is the only way to defeat The One. Maybe we’re closing in on something important. Meanwhile, though, we look like freshly boiled lobsters.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” I’m jumping up and down as Whit and I are reunited in the (surprise) all-white common space, waiting for our next instructions.

“Stings, huh?” Whit agrees. “I have to admit, though, you really needed a bath. You were kind of starting to stink.”

I punch him in the arm. Apparently even near-death experiences can’t take the obnoxiousness totally out of the brother. “Speak for yourself. And they seriously didn’t need to take off the top two layers of my skin to solve the problem.”

Byron, on the other hand… I remember a murder-mystery board game we used to play as kids, and I start a wicked fantasy: Wisteria Allgood, in the shower, with the industrial-strength power nozzle…

My plotting is interrupted by a military march–like set of notes signaling the end of class, then the sound of a bunch of kids emerging into the hallway. Several come into the room and plop themselves in front of a TV.

“Hey, guys,” says the boy who sits down next to us. “I’m Crossley.” He’s short and wiry, with a boyishly earnest and appealing face.

“I’m Whit, and this is Wisty,” says my brother somewhat guardedly.

“Yeah, everybody in this place knows about you two. Especially Wisty.” He leans in. “Saw you rockin’ out on the Net.”

Whit and I are stunned. “Huh?” says Whit. “How’d you —?”

Crossley’s eyes flash toward one of ERSA’s eyes. “Anyway, they gave us all chocolates when they announced you were coming.”

“Do they give chocolates often?” I blurt out.

“Every once in a while ERSA gives them to the whole school, but usually it’s just when you earn a trip to The Room Where You Eat The Chocolate.”

“So how do you earn that?”

“By being a good student, generally.”

“Like solving trigonometry problems?”

“Sort of,” says Crossley. “You’ll see. The chocolate is awesome. It’s just that some of us aren’t quite prepared for its… awesomeness.” He turns his attention to the TV screen and pastes a smile on his face like a baby who’s just been fed, pooped, and changed.

I suddenly realize that I have no idea if the kids at this school are brainwashed New Order spawn—Mini-Ones in training—or if they’re innocent kids trapped in a white N.O. box just doing what they need to do to survive.

As Crossley cheers along with the group at another exciting ribbon-cutting ceremony being broadcast on Channel One, I notice him discreetly holding up a small scrap of paper, shielding it in the palm of his hand so that the cameras can’t see it.

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