W.I.T.C.H. Исчезновение (книга 2) ("The Disappearance")
Пока только первая глава, но впечатление составить можно (честно взята с www.hyperionbooksforchildren.com). Кстати, она на инглише (скоро переведу и выложу русский вариант, хотя и так понятно ;) ).
Глава 1
Will and her friends arrived at her apartment building just as black clouds in the sky began to roll, rumble, and spark.
As she, Cornelia, Irma, and Taranee climbed the stairs that led to the apartment she shared with her mother, Will glanced at her friends. It was hard to believe she'd known them only a few days! She already felt so familiar with Cornelia's long, blond hair, Irma's smirk, and Taranee's raggedy fingernails. Will even knew that Taranee always gnawed on her nails when she was nervous.
In fact, Will thought, I bet I could practically read their thoughts. As she opened the door to the hallway and ushered her friends through it, she gazed at Cornelia's pale, heart-shaped face. Her pink-glossed lips were pulled into a tight, tense line. Her blue eyes were steely. And she had the same expression Will got when she and her mom were having an argument.
Yup, Will thought. That's exactly how I look when I know that I'm wrong and my mom's right, but I'm not gonna admit it! And Cornelia's being just that stubborn about this whole magical powers thing. I mean, she made a vine come to life in the school courtyard. It slithered up her arm like a snake! That was magic! There's no other explanation for it. But Cornelia still refuses to say the M word.
As the girls turned a corner in the hallway, Will's eyes fell on Taranee, whose ever-clicking beaded braids were hidden under the earflaps of her big, floppy, red rain hat. Behind her little, round specs, Taranee's brown eyes were big and watery. Her chin was trembling ever so slightly.
She's wishing she was home, Will thought sympathetically. Taranee liked being tucked away in the safety of her photography darkroom or curled up in front of the fireplace.
And Irma, Will concluded as she gazed at her, is wondering what kind of cookies I'm going to serve for our after-school snack.
As Will and her friends reached the loft door, she dug around in her pink backpack. Then she pulled out the big tangle of keys attached to the tiny rubber frog that was her key chain.
"Okay," she said, glancing at Cornelia's impatient frown, "don't laugh, you guys, but every time I try to unlock my front door, I seem to use the wrong key."
"Well, that is a lot of keys." Irma giggled, pointing at the crowded key chain. "Is this a home or a jail?"
"Good question," Will muttered as she fumbled through all the keys. The truth was, Will didn't feel as though the loft were her home -- yet. She and her mom had moved to this seaside city called Heatherfield right before Halloween. They'd come here from Fadden Hills -- where Will was born and raised.
Mostly, the move had been a good thing. Will had met her new friends almost immediately. And her mom seemed much happier now that she was farther away from Will's dad.
Come to think of it, Will mused with a frown, the only reason my key chain is crowded is that I can't seem to bring myself to take my old Fadden Hills house keys off it.
Will wondered what her new friends would think if they knew that she was clinging to her old keys, and her old life. They might think she was a total baby. Or that she was a little nuts.
Or, Will thought, glancing over her shoulder at Taranee's scared eyes, they might . . . understand. After all, even before we found out we had been given magical powers, we were totally bonding. Now, we share that major secret. And as everyone knows, secret-sharing is the first step toward becoming best friends.
The realization made Will's heavy heart lift -- a little. So her next thought was more of a resolution.
Okay, she told herself as she chose one of the shiny brass keys. If this key is the right one, I vow to take all my old Fadden Hills keys off this frog. Even the key to my old locker at the pool.
Will held the key up to the doorknob and bit her lip. Then she stuck the key into the lock. It fit!
And it turned! The front door swung open easily.
Will took a deep breath and thought, Home, sweet home? Well, maybe . . .
Then she smiled and stepped inside. The girls crowded in behind her.
"Hello?" Taranee called out. Her voice echoed off the loft's high ceiling. Even though the apartment was lined with tall, multipaned windows, the place was dark and shadowy. The storm outside had turned the sky almost black.
"Come on in," Will said, glancing at her watch. Her mom rarely got home from her big, swanky office at Simultech early. "No one's here. My mother will be back in about an hour."
Will maneuvered around a few cardboard boxes to hit the light switch. Naturally, she stubbed her toe on one of her own boxes filled with CDs.
"Grrrr," Will mumbled, hopping up and down on one foot. Okay, she had to admit it. Another thing that might make her feel more at home in this new apartment would be finally unpacking all her stuff!
At least her friends didn't seem to mind the disheveled decor. As Cornelia unfurled the orange shawl she'd tied around her shoulders and Taranee pulled off her hat, Irma flopped back onto the comfy red couch.
"Man, I'm beat!" she said with a big sigh. "I wonder what's on TV."
Will stared at Irma for a moment. Okay, she thought, now I don't know if Irma's attitude is funny or scary. I mean, we're dealing with some heavy stuff here. She pulled off her beat-up, gray jacket and stood in front of Irma.
"You know," she began hesitantly, "with all we're going through, I'm not surprised you're tired. But aren't we taking this all a bit too lightly?"
As Irma opened one lazy, blue eye to gaze at her quizzically, Will went on.
"I mean . . ." she said, "we should be terrified. We have magical powers. Don't you realize that?"
Irma's response got an angry glare from Cornelia. But Will had to continue. "We suddenly find ourselves in the middle of something incredible, and we act like it is the most normal thing in the world," she said. "The other day we battled monsters, one of our friends has completely vanished . . . and we're here to have a nice cup of hot chocolate."
Will tossed her jacket onto a chair and all but shouted, "For heaven's sake. How do you guys explain all this?"
"Hey," Irma said, propping her red shoes up on the coffee table. "Maybe we've got a few screws loose, and we never realized it before."
"Speak for yourself, Irma," Cornelia snapped. She folded her long, skinny arms over her chest.
Will threw up her hands and stomped back across the living room to the open kitchen at the far end of the loft. Taranee followed her and slouched in front of one of the tall windows.
Will grabbed the coffeepot and stuck it beneath the kitchen faucet. "There's something much bigger behind all this. I still don't really get what, but there is."
"As soon as Hay Lin's grandma gets better," Taranee offered, "we'll go ask her a few questions."
Will nodded. And at the same time, she cringed. The mention of Hay Lin's grandmother took her right back to that fateful moment just a few days ago. The girls had gathered -- this time, for tea -- in Hay Lin's apartment above her family's Chinese restaurant. The girls had been munching almond cookies and discussing their weirdly similar dreams when Hay Lin's grandmother had stolen in and dropped a bombshell on them.
She had smiled gleefully at Will, Irma, Taranee, Cornelia, and Hay Lin (whose names happened to form the acronym W.i.t.c.h.). And then she had announced that they were Guardians of the Veil.
And what was the Veil? Well, it was a barrier that had been raised eons ago between earth and the dark world of Metamoor. It was the only thing keeping who-knew-what sorts of gruesome evildoers away from the girls' own peaceful world.
Hay Lin's grandmother had explained that when the millennium hit, the Veil had grown weak. Creatures from Metamoor were then able to travel through it, by way of portals -- which were sort of cosmic doorways.
To protect the Veil, some all-knowing spirit who lived in a place called Candracar had anointed Will and her friends as its Guardians. It was now their job to make sure no bad guys breached the portals. As the Veil's protectors, four of the girls had been infused with different powers -- those of earth, fire, water, and air.
And then there's me, Will thought - I'm the keeper of the Heart of Candracar.
Within Will now was a small, orb-shaped, brightly glowing medallion. And it, apparently, was the key to the four other powers.
I felt this power in the gym the other night, Will thought with a shudder. Their friend Elyon had lured Will, Hay Lin, and Irma to their school's gym. She'd told them she had a date with a cute boy she'd met, named Cedric. But when the trio had arrived, Elyon and Cedric were nowhere to be seen. In their place had been a grotesque, reptilian villain and his monstrous blue henchman, a brute named Vathek. They were just the Metamoor baddies that Hay Lin's grandmother had warned them about. They were powerful. And huge. And dangerous. In fact, the snake-man had ordered Vathek to throw the three girls into a gaping hole. That's when the Heart of Candracar had appeared in Will's hand.
Somehow -- instinctively -- she'd channeled its power. They'd gotten amazing, beautiful outfits, changed bodies, and even sprouted wings! Not to mention the power to kick the bad guys' butts.
Which they'd promptly done. Unfortunately, their fight had also started a roaring fire in the gym. The girls had skulked away while firefighters arrived to save the building. And their secret identities had been discovered by no one.
That night had been only a temporary victory. Will knew other battles awaited them. What kind of battles, or with whom, was a mystery.
And that's why she and her friends were here, trying to figure out a solution to all of this.
As if she had read Will's mind, Taranee spoke up again.
"Until we know more," she said to the group, "we'd better watch our steps and keep our eyes peeled."
Will was about to agree when a tremendous thunderclap made her jump!
Sputttter.
"There go the lights," Will said, as every lamp in the loft flickered out. She rolled her eyes.
Could this day be any creepier? she thought.
Across the room, on the couch, Irma quipped, "I'd keep my eyes peeled, but I wouldn't see anything anyway!"
A Cornelia-shaped shadow near the couch said, "The lights have gone out, Einstein."
"Don't move," Will said, feeling her way around the living room. "Somewhere around here, there should be some candles or a flashlight."
"Don't bother, Will," said Taranee's voice behind her. "I'll take care of it."
And suddenly, Will detected a bright glow dancing through the air. She spun around in time to see a tiny, orange fireball, bouncing playfully in Taranee's palm!
"Yeow!" Irma yelped in alarm.
Cornelia gaped.
And Will gulped!
But she noticed that -- for perhaps the first time that afternoon -- Taranee's quivery, fearful expression had melted into an easy smile.
Taranee held her hand up over her head. The fireball tipped out of her palm as gently as a soap bubble and hovered in the air a few feet above Taranee's head.
Taranee nodded and grinned. Then she held out her hand again. With a muffled whoosh, another fireball formed. Taranee set that one free, too.
Before the girls could catch their breath, Taranee's sizzly spheres were bobbing all around the loft, filling the space with cozy firelight. When one of the fireballs drifted by Irma's nose, she reached for it with hesitant fingers. She gasped as one fingertip pierced the fireball, then emerged unscathed.
"Wow," Irma breathed. "It doesn't burn!"
Will laughed out loud.
This magic stuff isn't all scary, she had to admit to herself.
With a gleam in her eye, Will walked back into the kitchen.
"Okay," she announced. "Now it's my turn to show you guys something. Anybody want a snack?"
That question got Irma off the couch. She followed Will into the kitchen with a hungry look in her eyes. Taranee and Cornelia trailed after her.
"Yeah, I do," Irma said. "Have you learned some new recipes?"
Will leaned with false casualness against the refrigerator door and said, "What can we offer my friends, James?"
"James?" Irma cried. She glanced behind her, then peered around the rest of the kitchen. "You have a butler and you never told us?"
Suddenly, a haughty British voice rang out through the kitchen.
"There's a rather meager selection, Miss Will," the voice sniffed. "Unless someone would be so kind as to restock me."
Will watched as Irma screamed and stared at the refrigerator, particularly the ice-dispensing lever in the freezer door. Without having to look, Will knew the lever was waggling to the rhythm of James's voice. Because James, of course, was...
"The refrigerator!" Irma screeched, pointing at the ice dispenser. "The refrigerator is talking!"
As Will dissolved into a fit of giggles, James continued.
"Ahem," he said, with all the dignity a refrigerator could muster. "I should bring to your attention the fact that the cream cheese next to the pickles has long since expired."
"Sorry, James," Will said. She quickly opened the refrigerator door and whisked away the block of cream cheese. It was, indeed, green and fuzzy. Then she turned to Taranee, who was back to looking trembly and terrified, and whispered, "James has very refined tastes, you see."
"The refrigerator is talking!" Irma shrieked again.
Cornelia stared at the appliance, then blinked.
"Bizarre," she whispered.
"The refrigerator is talking!" Irma yelled once more, this time grabbing Cornelia by the shoulders and shaking her.
"All right, already," Cornelia snapped back. "I'm not deaf!"
That seemed to calm Irma down. In fact, once she was through wigging, a huge grin formed on her face.
Will grinned back. After she'd gotten used to it, she'd come to adore her talking appliances. It was, perhaps, the only aspect of this new identity that wasn't terrifying.
"I discovered it the other day," Will explained to her friends as they headed back into the living room. "I can talk with all the electrical appliances! I've given them each a name and they do what I tell them to. They even work without electricity."
"Now that's what I call cost-efficient!" Irma exclaimed. She went back into the living area and flopped onto the couch again. Then she turned toward the TV. "Put on channel twelve. Boy Comet is on. It's the hottest TV show of all time!"
Will squatted in front of the TV. It was a rickety old set that her mom refused to replace with some sleek, new, flat-screen one.
"This one works fine," Mom had said, the one time Will had begged her to update their primitive set. Of course, now that her TV could talk, Will wouldn't dream of getting rid of it. Even if it was a bit crotchety.
"Boy Comet, Billy?" she said to the television delicately.
"Oh, no, Will," the wheezy old television rasped. "You know I just can't stand the musical theme song of Boy Comet."
"B-but, but," Irma stuttered. But Billy cut her off.
"My poor speakers can't handle it!" he complained. "Whatever happened to the golden days of easy-listening music?
"Now, what do you say to a nice documentary?" Billy continued. His screen sputtered to life. A big, fat bear could be seen waddling through a field of evergreens. Some drab flute music droned in the background. "For example, this one on Globe World about the secret life of black bears."
Irma gasped and glared at Will indignantly.
"What can you do?" Will said with a shrug. "It's a pretty old model. . . ."
Irma grunted in frustration and stared sullenly at the black bear on Billy's screen. The entire scene was so ridiculous Will couldn't contain her giggles.
"Every day, there's something new," she snorted. "Isn't it great?"
"Just great," Irma muttered.
Irma didn't turn Billy off. In fact, she seemed to get sucked in to the documentary as the narrator purred, "In the winter months, the social life of larger plantigrade animals reaches decidedly low levels. . . ."
"Uh, Will?"
Will turned to see Taranee pulling a computer disk out of her kente-cloth backpack. "Since you've found a loophole in this no-electricity thing, could I print out my science paper?"
"Sure, Taranee," Will said, grabbing the disk from her bud. "I'll handle it."
Tailed by a couple of bobbling fireballs, Taranee followed Will into her bedroom. It was just as littered with unpacked boxes as the rest of the loft. But at least Will's orange laptop and printer were all set up. That had been one of the first things she'd taken care of when she'd moved in. Will felt lost if she wasn't wired to the Web.
And, of course, now that her computer and printer had come to life, they were more entertaining than ever. Will approached her laptop and braced herself for a little griping.
"Wake up, George," she said to her computer cheerily. "There's work to be done!"
"Work, work," the computer sputtered. His voice was high-pitched and whiny, with a definite northeastern drawl. "Nothing but work. I have a right to take a break, too!"
"Aw, zip it, George!"
"Eeep!" Taranee squeaked in shock as the printer next to the computer started talking, too. This voice was growly and low, but decidedly female.
"If there's anyone here who has to do the dirty work, it's me," said the printer, whom Will had named Mildred.
"Is that so?" George retorted.
"So so," Mildred taunted.
Taranee gaped at the bickering hardware and whispered to Will, "They're fighting?"
Will shot her friend a wry smile. "I think they're husband and wife," she said. "I could listen to them for hours!"
And now that I'm a Guardian, she thought, with a little flutter in her stomach, I guess I'll be able to!
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