Witch and Wizard - James Patterson [47]
Margo looked at the two of us. “Magic would be good.”
Whit and I stopped walking, and then so did the rest of our band of nine.
“There’s no real plan to get inside, is there?” Whit asked.
“We can always get ourselves arrested,” Margo said. “That shouldn’t be a big problem.”
I’d been half listening to them, but mostly I was thinking about seeing our mother and father again, and I couldn’t wait. Now it was time to get down to business.
“I have a plan,” I said. “I’ve been going over it a lot. First, we need disguises, of course, ones that allow us to blend with the prison environment. I was thinking that Whit could be a guard. I can try to make him look older and give him a guard’s uniform. Then he can just walk in. I don’t want to be arrested again, Margo.”
“So what about you?” Whit asked me. “How do you get in, Wisty?”
“It has to be magic that I can do. Consistently. So I tried some things before we left Garfunkel’s. I can do something fairly interesting that I think’ll work.”
“Do what?” Whit asked.
“You’re going to think it’s stupid. And crazy.”
“Wisty, what are you going to do? How do you get inside?”
“Well, I…” Wisty paused, then blurted out the rest. “Turnmyselfintoamouse.”
Chapter 76
Wisty
“A MOUSE?” Whit looked like he might explode. “A mouse? You’re going in there disguised as a rodent? To rescue Mom and Dad, and all those kids? And maybe tangle with The One Who Is The One?”
I nodded. “A mouse can go places without anyone seeing. A mouse can chew through wires or sneak through skinny pipes. A mouse can do things even an elephant can’t do,” I pointed out.
“A mouse can also get squashed by some guard’s boot. Or vaporized. No,” said Whit. “It’s too dangerous. And it’s nuts.”
I refused to back off my idea, because it was a good one. I was sure of it. “But it’ll also give me a chance to go places that no one else can go. I can do this, Whit. I tried snakes, roaches, bats—I can do a mouse. And,” I said with a half smile, “I have a good track record with small animals, right?”
There was a very uncomfortable silence for a few seconds while everyone digested my plan, such as it was. In the meantime, we’d made it out of the subway and were up on a street, though we stayed in the shadows.
“I don’t like it,” Whit said, but I could tell he was weakening.
“Trust me,” I said. “I’m a witch. Watch this. Watch very closely.”
Chapter 77
Wisty
I WHIPPED OUT my drumstick like it was a six-gun and—get this—it crackled. This time my magic worked like it was supposed to. I started by making Whit look older, and put him in a guard’s uniform that was perfect to the last detail, with the New Order logo and everything.
Next, I snapped the drumstick at myself, and everybody gasped. One of the kids almost fainted on the spot.
“I hope you’re right about this,” Whit said, pulling his guard’s cap down tight over his forehead. “I have my doubts at the moment.”
Margo, who was a logic-police kind of gal, just shook her head in dismay.
I had to admit, looking at my handiwork—Whit in his guard uniform, a dead ringer for a guy in his thirties—that I was getting much better at my craft.
Not to mention that I’d managed to turn myself into vermin.
I hadn’t realized how weeny mice were. I was now about the size of a large fig, covered everywhere with white-and-brown glossy fur. I had long white whiskers that tickled my face and ears that were hair-trigger twitchy.
I whipped my tail around my side and caught sight of it. Okay, that’s pretty cool! Makes up for the embarrassing ear-twitch tic.
Whit showed me my reflection in his regulation New Order silver belt buckle, and I had to admit, I made a cute enough mouse, as far as mice go. And a very promising witch.
But then I looked up and down the street where we were, and my confidence flagged. Imagine, if you will, a fast-moving car tire that seemed the size of an elephant on steroids, or a lumbering human being the size of a rocket-ship. I never realized how traumatized your average mouse must be. It may take me