Witch and Wizard_ The Fire - James Patterson [10]
I sprint back to the Needermans’ bombed-out apartment building, taking the basement stairs two at a time, and then burst into the small room, searching for Pearl.
She’s nowhere to be found. What was it she said? I’ll look after her. Trust me.
I’m not sure I know the meaning of that word anymore.
I crouch down by Wisty. She’s still feverish and barely conscious, and her face is filthy.
“Don’t give up on me yet, Wist. I’ve got a plan. Just hang in there.” I start to wipe my sister’s face with a dirty cloth when the door opens and the little ragamuffin saunters in.
Pearl sees my angry expression and shrugs. “I got hungry and figured the witch wouldn’t miss me,” she says cheerfully enough. “Shouldn’t be long now anyway — the mess she coughed up earlier was some kind of gross black sludge.”
Before I know what I’m doing, I bat the scraps of food Pearl’s holding to the floor and tug the little girl across the room toward my sister.
“Hey!” she protests. “It’s not my fault she’s —”
“You’re not going to watch over Wisty until she dies. You’re going to help me make her better,” I tell her, voice as hard as iron. “Right now.”
Chapter 10
Whit
ON THE CEMENT floor in the drab basement apartment, Wisty struggles in the grubby linens, her breath coming in quick, jagged gasps. Sweat stands out on my sister’s forehead, but her teeth chatter behind her papery lips.
This has to work.
Pearl slouches next to me, feigning boredom, but I’m gripping one of her hands and one of Wisty’s with frenzied determination. Wisty coughs violently, and red drops of blood appear on the corners of her mouth.
I lick my lips and try to swallow my panic. I have to work fast; we’re losing her.
I let go of Pearl and start to riffle through my journal for a spell, but Pearl snatches the book away with nimble fingers practiced in theft.
“Poems?” The kid looks genuinely appalled.
“Give it. Now,” I manage. It’s taking a massive effort not to yell at her.
“Fine,” she says, chucking the journal at my head. “I’ll just be over here, choking on my own vomit.”
“That’s what my dying sister is actually doing right now, thanks to your lack of cooperation.” I heave a frustrated sigh.
I lean over to pull Wisty’s fire-red hair away from her clammy cheeks. “Listen, Wist, you’re not done living — not by a long shot,” I say quietly. “You’re not done rocking the music, bursting into flames like a badass, or mouthing off when I’m trying to give you advice. And this is the best advice your big brother is ever going to give you.” I start to choke up but force this last part out anyway, because I need my sister to hear it: “You’re not allowed to die yet, okay? It’s definitely not in your best interest.”
Wisty doesn’t move and her breathing stays shallow, but Pearl’s face softens and she gets this big-eyed sympathetic look, like she might actually start crying, too.
“I have something to say.” Pearl awkwardly puts a hand on Wisty’s shoulder, looking kind of embarrassed. I’m staring, not sure what to make of this, and she shoots me an annoyed look. “Close your eyes, Whit. It’s like a prayer or whatever.” I shut my eyes obediently and hear her settle in beside me.
I expect her to make some snide remark, but when she speaks, her voice is sad and sincere. “Whit seems to care about you a whole lot,” Pearl starts. “I had a brother, too, who I cared about. And he used to keep an eye out for me, too.” She’s quiet for a moment. “But he’s gone now and —” Her voice quivers, and my heart lurches in my chest. “And it was just the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, so I know how he feels.”
Pearl pauses for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to go on. “So just … just wake up already. Amen.” I open my eyes, but Wisty’s pale face is unmoving.
Pearl grips my hand tightly as if it had been her idea all along. “Okay, wizard,” she says gently,