Page 61 of Cry of the Damned
And it seemed she’d been right. Now, it was only a matter of using Bethel’s swap spell with the cook and my sister.
Obviously, Ila was concerned, unsure whether or not she could successfully impersonate the cook. But Rob and I eased her mind.
“They feed us simple stuff,” Rob said.
“Oatmeal for breakfast,” I added. “And grilled meat and vegetables for both lunch and dinner.”
“They never give us dessert,” Rob complained. “Only fruit.”
I thought for a bit. “The most complicated thing is bread.”
“Heather can give you a crash course,” George piped in.
“Perfect!” Kall explained. “It’s all figured out. I can’t wait to get the children out of there and bring them back home.”
No one could agree more.
George pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m both nervous and excited to see how Lux City will change without the magistrates tainting everyone’s minds with lies. And I’m glad you and your kind don’t have to face persecution anymore. Whatever small part my wife and I played in this, we feel very proud.”
“We couldn’t have done this without you, Heather, and Owen,” I said, extending a hand to shake his. Except he ignored it, and instead gave me a quick hug.
After finishing breakfast, we wasted no more time jumping into action. Ila, Bethel, and I rode in George’s car to his house. Ila sat tensely in the back seat, staring straight ahead, while Bethel stuck her head out the window, the wind blowing her black hair as she let her tongue hang out like a dog.
George smiled, and I shook my head.
When we entered his house, Heather was already waiting for us. She beamed, clearly happy to see we were safe.
“I’m so glad you’re all right. I called Owen right after George called me. He’s also very relieved.”
I repeated our thanks and told her that without them, we wouldn’t have been able to accomplish what we had.
“I’ve invited Diana for coffee and pastries,” Heather said.
Diana was the cook, and Heather had told her that she and George wanted to ask her a business question. Heather said the cook had seemed surprised by the request—Heather was acquainted with Diana, but they’d never exchanged more than friendly hellos. Still, the cook had agreed to come, and she would be arriving in only fifteen minutes.
Bethel gave Heather a small vial containing a soporific, which the witch had concocted overnight. The potion would keep Diana asleep for at least a week and would erase any memories she might have of her meeting with Heather. The cook would be in such a deep state of slumber that it would be like hibernating. Her vitals would slow down, and there would be no need for nourishment.
We hated to do that to the poor woman, but it was for the greater good.
When the doorbell rang, I hid with Ila and Bethel in a guest bedroom, while Heather offered Diana her spiked coffee and pretended to talk business until the woman slumped on the chair, asleep. Then Bethel started her swap spell, while I gave Ila some last-minute advice.
All she needed to do was stay in the kitchen, keep her head down, and not be caught putting anything in the students’ food. I didn’t like to send my sister into the Academy, even if the guards and magistrates were gone, but I figured this way was as safe as it could get. Besides, if something happened, Ila would be able to transfer right back into her body, which would remain in the guest bedroom while Diana slept soundly inside Ila’s body.
The cook was a heavyset woman, who wore her hair in a tight knot at the top of her head and wore a long dress that nearly reached her ankles.
“Get back in the bedroom and lie down,” Bethel instructed Ila, who had followed us out into the kitchen.
I followed my sister to make sure she was in bed before Bethel got to work on her spell. Soon, Ila’s eyes snapped shut, and I rushed back into the kitchen to find Diana—or more accurately, my sister—blinking up at the ceiling.
“How does it feel?” I asked. I knew how strange it was getting used to controlling a new body.
Ila shook her head. “I don’t like it,” she replied in the woman’s deep voice.
“Is that really you, Ila?” Heather asked, scanning the cook’s face.
“It is.”
Heather didn’t look convinced.
