"s.h.i.t!" Abby expelled. "Sue," she added quickly. "I mean Shih Tzu. I mean wow! Good for them."

"What do we get?" Tally inquired, ever the pragmatist. The sting of defeat seemed to barely faze her. Her brain kept on turning. No need to crank her ears.

"Here it is now." Burble pointed skyward, appearing extraordinarily pleased.

A white Air Jet zoomed toward them, through the hanging vines, like a flying scooter in overdrive. It looked like one of the Oceana's mentors straddling it. Her inky ponytail flapped against her neck as she putted to a halt, hovering before Burble long enough to offer her a white clam and a big-toothed smile.

The wavy clam burped.

Three bubbles bounced out.

The first one popped, dropping a mask and snorkel, the second one burst to reveal three red sleeping bags, and the third a giant willow basket filled with fruits and vegetables.

"Excellent!" Burble clapped her hands. "Well done, ladies!"

"What did first place get?" Evelina couldn't help ask.

"A war canoe, fishing gear, and a vegetable garden." Burble sounded pleased for them. "Here's your torch." She snapped her fingers and a bamboo torch appeared in her hand. "Do not extinguish it. It's your source of power for the duration of the compet.i.tion."

Evelina took charge of the precious flame, marvelling at the intricacy of the carving. It resembled a grotesque mask with its hair on fire. When the bottom touched the ground two electrical outlets popped out.

"What do you think?" Burble sang, waving a hand at the tree fort above, like the ringleader of a circus. "Marvellous, isn't it?"

"Nice." Evelina gazed up at the giant tree fort. "But how do we get up there?"

"Bang the knockers, of course." Burble marched forward between the four palms, then pulled on a dangling vine. The hollow clatter of coconuts followed. A bamboo swing dropped down from the trees. "Hop on." She planted herself on the swing, then pulled the vine again. She went flying up into the air, disappearing through a trap door.

The girls exchanged startled glances.

Evelina gave the vine a tug.

The swing descended with a whoosh.

She hopped on, then yanked it again. Laughter bubbled up in her throat as she flew up into the air. The next thing she knew she'd landed on her feet and the swing disappeared down the trap like an elevator.

Tally arrived wearing a perma-grin.

Abby laughed out loud when her feet hit the floor.

"Get a good night's sleep," Burble said. "Tomorrow is a very busy day." She gave a tug on her ear.

And poof!

She was gone.

Evelina blinked, staring at the spot where she'd been. It was unsettling to have people suddenly disappear. She'd never get used to them just popping in and out like that.

She did a three sixty, gazing around the tree fort. "Wow." It was big. It smelled of pineapple and coconut. A complete kitchen with a bar and bamboo stools occupied one end. Further exploration revealed tidy shelves with stacks of wooden cups and bowls.

"Welcome to paradise." Abby hopped up into one of the red canvas hammocks swinging from the rafters. She stretched out with her hands behind her head and grinned. "I think I'm going to like it here."

Evelina leaned over the rail, listening to the lapping of the ocean below. "I wonder what the warlocks are doing right now?"

"Logic would dictate the same thing as we are." Tally said in superior tones. "I a.s.sume they're settling in."

Logic? Logic had nothing to do with it. They were Water Witches. Evelina resisted the urge to point this out.

"I wouldn't mind having a look myself." Abby had that reckless look in her eye-the kind Evelina always found hard to resist. "Maybe we should go over and find out."

A thrill ran through Evelina. "What do you mean?"

"I know where they are." Abby grinned, teeth flashing white in the darkness. "Cliff let it slip last night. They're on the other end of the island."

The rhythmic sound of drumbeats echoed in the distance, then disappeared.

"What was that?" Tally whispered, pupils growing as large as grapes.

Abby rushed to the railing to lean over, as though straining to hear. "The Glaring." She turned back around. "It's begun.

"We're spying, you know," Tally whispered fiercely.

"I know," Abby said in hushed tones, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with excitement. "Isn't it great?"

Evelina put a finger to her lips.

The last thing they needed was to get caught.

The palms were already rustling thanks to Tally's shivers.

What they were doing was wrong. But it probably wasn't the first time witches had spied on warlocks. It must have been going on for centuries. So many secrets couldn't help but incite curiosity.

There were only so many things you could ask during a short Cosmic Call. And she had so many questions. Like what the warlocks did at their council meetings-something she hoped to discover tonight.

Besides, she wanted to see them in action-find out what really made them tick.

"Looks kind of boring." Abby spread the rushes wider, leaning closer. "I was hoping for loincloths or something."

Weren't they all? Evelina silently nodded in agreement. It seemed unfair that they raced around in silk tunics with the wind up their skirts, while warlocks wore surf shorts in their tribe's colors.

The deep dooom, dooom, dooom of a drum filled the air with a steady hollow beat.

Evelina's gaze flew past the enchanted drum with no musician, to the lagoon alit with bamboo torches. A line of older warlocks filed up to fill their hollow coconuts. They looked to be the age of mentors-maybe nineteen.

Steam rose like sea spray above the ma.s.sive tortoise sh.e.l.l bowl bubbling before the councilors. They wore surf shorts, but were bare-chested like the younger warlocks. Impressive necklaces of polished coral, shark's teeth and green sea gla.s.s hung around their necks, setting them apart from the rest.

"Acheron Wolf," Tally whispered as the lanky, black-haired councilor of the Swamp Hogs ladled out the hissing brew.

Evelina sniffed the air. "Smells like Blue Moon tea."

"What's up with that?" Abby sounded disgusted. "They're trippin' out on Blue Moon tea, while we're runnin' our tails off."

Blue Moon tea was a sedative. Evelina remembered Udora giving it to Mrs. Segal to ease her aches and pains the night of the bath bomb fiasco. It made her talk all night in her sleep, spouting crazy, nonsensical things. Evelina had to ram her head under her pillow to finally get to sleep.

But, why did they need to be sedated?

A moment later her question was answered.

Each warlock waited their turn to lie down on a log bench. She couldn't believe what happened next. The councilor from Oceana grabbed a slithering lamprey eel from a bucket, then stuck it on the heel of the Warlock.

"Sydney McCrystal," Tally supplied. "He's still the Diviner."

The young warlock grimaced in pain while the eel's tail writhed in the air.

McCrystal nodded his head of wild white hair toward the next victim.

"Third year warlocks are marked with their tribe's symbol when they become mentors," Abby said, sounding awestruck. "It's a rite of pa.s.sage."

"Wow!" Evelina stared in amazement. "They have some twisted rituals, don't they? I'm glad we don't have to do that."

Tally pursed her lips. "Because they're savages and we aren't."

The drum pounded faster as if to prove her claim.

Another group of younger warlocks raced across the sand to four palm trees on the opposite side of the lagoon. One after another, they shimmied up. Each tribe had a tree. The object appeared to be getting as many team members up the tree as possible.

The other two councilors seemed to be in charge of this, refereeing from either side.

"The one with the stop watch is Zale Specter, Councilor of White Water," Tally nodded her head toward the golden merman on the left. "The other one is Rio Beck, of Lake of the Isles."

When the drum stopped, whoops of triumph broke out.

Lake of the Isles had won.

Rio Beck appeared pleased. He flashed a broad grin, softening his hawkish features. He folded his arms across his big barrel chest like a proud Aztec, surveying his warriors.

Evelina almost cheered, but managed to squelch it to a squeak.

"Why do they get to decide who sits on the Witches' Council?" Abby's features creased with distain. "They seem a little under qualified, don't you think-if not unbalanced-shimmying up palm trees, getting tattoos. Any moment now one of them is going to start beating their chest."

"They don't choose the witch or warlock who sits on it, just the tribe they're from." Tally droned in her professor voice. "The diviner and the Witches' Council must vote."

"The diviner influences the next generation," Abby declared stoutly. "Which is more important. Luckily we do that."

"The Witches' Council is there for eternity."

"Shhh!" Evelina waved them to silence. Abby and Tally loved to debate until their tongues swelled. They'd be discovered long before one conceded the other one right.

Evelina leaned forward to listen, but the crowd of warlocks had closed in around the councilors.

She couldn't hear a thing.

"I'm just saying," Abby lowered her voice, "I think positions should switch sooner than every hundred years."

"It's the way it's always been." Tally looked skyward, as if imagining the councilors' eyes upon her.

"Yes," Abby's tone turned impatient, "but who has the greatest impact-them or us?"

"That depends." Tally raised one thin brow. "Do you want to guide the here and now, or clean up the mess after?"

"Right now," Evelina said in hushed tones, putting an end to their bickering. "They're on the move. Uh oh! There's a group of warlocks heading our way. Run!"

Evelina sprinted down the path, the way they came with Abby and Tally close behind.

She'd only trod a quarter of a mile when she heard a loud screech.

Not like a bird, but strangled and desperate-oddly haunting somehow.

She stumbled to a halt to listen, but only heard the rasp of her own breath on the wind.

Abby and Tally thundered up behind her as she started to run again.

All three of them nearly collided when she tripped over something.

Evelina cursed under her breath.

It was long and narrow and directly across the path-a log or something.

She leaned down to get a closer look.

But it wasn't a log.

It was a warlock.

He didn't look much older than a novice. His shorts glowed white in the moonlight, which meant he belonged to White Water. He was part of Lily's tribe.

Something else caught Evelina's eye-a mark on the heel of his bare foot. It appeared to be some kind of tattoo. But he looked far too young to be a mentor. It looked like a branch or a hand.

It was difficult to see in the dark. But it didn't look like any Water Witch symbol she'd ever seen. Oceana's symbol was a wave, White Water three bubbles, Lake of the Isles three rings, like the splash of a stone hitting water, and the Swamp Hags a cattail.

Evelina put two fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse, then checked his wrist to be certain.

Nothing.

A shiver ran up her back.

"He's dead."