Witch and Wizard - James Patterson [60]
Words sprang into my brain. I didn’t know where they came from. “Margo, they’re afraid of us. They’re afraid of everything.” And then I kept on talking without really thinking, until it turned into a chant:
They’re afraid of change, and we must change.
They’re afraid of the young, and we are the young.
They’re afraid of music, and music is our life.
They’re afraid of books, and knowledge, and ideas.
They’re most afraid of our magic.
Margo stared at me and sniffled, her eyes wide, but the tears were gone.
I scooped up Wisty—who was unconscious and nearly weightless in my arms—and said the words again. Louder and more forcefully this time.
They’re afraid of us, they’re afraid of everything.
They’re afraid of change, and we must change.
They’re afraid of the young, and we are the young.
“Silence!” roared Judge Unger, his pinched beetle’s face turning a shade of funereal purple.
“Wait till I get my hands on you again,” the Matron snarled at his side, her icy eyes narrowing into thin slits that wouldn’t take a dime.
“I don’t think so, Matron. Not going to happen,” I said. “Actually, you are petrified of us. And you should be. We have the magic. You don’t.”
The next time I spoke the words, everyone—Margo, Emmet, Janine, the prison kids, everyone but Jonathan—repeated them with me.
They’re afraid of us, they’re afraid of everything.
They’re afraid of change, and we must change.
They’re afraid of the young, and we are the young.
They’re afraid of—
“Enough! More than enough, actually!” Judge Unger pounded his fist into his hand, then raised it as if he would hit me. “The witch and wizard must be put to death at once!”
In my arms, my sister suddenly opened her eyes. I stared at her in amazement.
Wisty’s eyes had been blue before. Now they looked almost clear, like sea glass. Her hair was more auburn than its former red, more like our mother’s. Her eyes glowed, and she tried her best to smile at me. “Hey, brother.”
“You and your sister are going to burn. Right here in this prison!” Judge Unger spewed powerful hatred our way. “The fire’s going to take care of our society’s problem once and for all!
“You!” he snapped at the security specialists. “Take them back into the prison and lock all the doors! They like fire. Let them burn. That is my final judgment. It is the law of the land. I am The One Who Judges!”
“No!” came a powerful voice.
Wisty’s voice.
Chapter 97
Whit
“I DON’T THINK SO,” Wisty went on as she unwrapped herself from my arms. I had no idea what she was up to, but I knew I couldn’t stop her. She turned her head slowly to look at the Matron, then stared at Judge Unger. I sensed a spell coming on, and I cringed involuntarily. We didn’t have time for trial and error.
“Trust me,” Wisty whispered to me. She turned back to our accusers. “You say that you’re The One,” she said with a tone of authority I’d never heard in her before. “But your form will now become undone.”
For the first time in all of Wisty’s spellcasting, a shiver went through me.
“We’re a witch and wizard,” Wisty continued, her voice sounding stronger and stronger.
As you can clearly tell.
But since you don’t deserve
Where you presently dwell,
It is now with great pleasuren
We send you off to—
We all waited with bated breath… and fear, I must admit, and trembling. I almost didn’t want to hear her complete the curse.
“Um, Roachland,” Wisty finished. “Where you will be judged a heinous criminal even under the laws of roaches!”
She snapped her hands at Judge Unger, who actually cowered.
“I give you all my power,” I whispered to my sister. “You speak for both of us.”
It was as if lightning were moving within me, a feeling of quicksilver warmth that raced through my hands and into Wisty.
Again, she snapped her hands at Judge Unger. This time, he shrieked, and a crackling burst of white light surrounded him, engulfing the monster from his head to the tips of his black riding boots.
We all waited, hearts in our throats, and