Page 71 of No Words

But no. The finger he’d jabbed in my direction was now crooked as he motioned for me to approach the stage.

“Yes,you.” Garrett grinned—a grin that made my blood run cold, despite the warm ocean breeze—because there was no denying it: I was the person he was talking to. “Come on, Jo, don’t be shy. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big round of applause to Ms. Jo Wright, author of the internationally bestselling Kitty Katz, Kitten Sitter series. She’s graciously agreed to be my assistant this evening.”

“What?” I glanced around, panic swelling inside me. “No, I didn’t.” I found myself looking desperately up at Will. “I didn’t!” Don’t ask me why it was so important to me that Will knew I had never agreed to be Garrett’s magician’s assistant. At that moment, it seemed vital. “I don’t even believe in magic,” I blathered. “Why would I agree to help with his trick?”

“Don’t believe in magic?” Of course Garrett had overheardme. Now he feigned outrage as he repeated my words to the crowd, who’d begun to murmur among themselves. “Well, we can’t have that, now, can we? Kids, what do you say we make a believer out of Ms. Wright?”

“Hocum-pocum,” the kids cried. This was apparently something from the books Garrett wrote. “Harry-scary!”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Kellyjean said, rolling her eyes. “That isn’t even an authentic incantation.”

Oh, God. This was a nightmare.

It wasn’t because I was shy, of course, or even that I didn’t believe in magic that I didn’t want to get up onstage.

It was because I didn’t want to have anything to do with Garrett, or the stupid trick he was performing to promote his brand.

But I could think of no gracious way to get out of the situation, especially when all of the little kids in front of the stage—and some not-so-little kids, too, like Jasmine and Cassidy—were yelling, “Come on, Ms. Wright! Do it!”

“Yes, do it, Ms. Wright,” Garrett said, egging them on. “Don’t be a party pooper!”

Ugh, those words. Those two little words. How could he possibly have known how much those two little words would get to me? Especially since they’d been flung at me so often, first in high school and then later, through college and even after, when friends (but not myrealfriends, because they had known me better) had nagged me to come out with them to have fun.

But I couldn’t, because I’d been too busy working my many side hustles in order to make ends meet, and then later,when I’d needed to meet my deadlines. If that made me a party pooper, so be it.

“Fine,” I grumbled, and started for the stage... until Will stopped me by laying a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s all right,” he said. He looked worried, like a host whose dinner party roast chicken was going up in flames. “You really don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at his attempt at chivalry. “But I can handle it.”

Then I began making my way toward the stage to the sound of cheers and applause from the audience.

“Ah, there she is, ladies and gentlemen,” Garrett said as he offered me a hand to help me up the single step to the stage. “Isn’t she lovely? I think she’ll make a perfect assistant.”

I leaned close to Garrett’s face as if I was going to kiss his cheek, but instead, I grabbed a handful of his cape and, pulling hard on it, whispered into his ear, “If you do anything weird, I’m going to take this cape of yours and wrap it around your neck and pull until you’re dead. Understand?”

“Ah-ha!” Garrett let out a high-pitched giggle and jerked away from me, startled. “Let’s not waste any more time, shall we? The spirit world is crying out for release! And I have just the tools they need.”

From deep within a pocket of his pirate pants—or professor pants, I guess—Garrett withdrew a pair of handcuffs. The stage lights winked dramatically on the bright silver metal, causing the kids in the audience to gasp.

I, however, was not as impressed.

“If you think you’re putting those on me,” I whispered to him, “you have another—”

“I’ve brought you up here, Ms. Wright,” Garrett went on dramatically, speaking to his audience and not to me, “to examine these manacles and assure our audience that they are indeed genuine. I shall then have you securemywrists with them and perform before your very eyes the same daring act that my well-known character Professor Eurynomos will famously perform inDark Magic School number eleven—available everywhere books are sold on January the twenty-second: the feat of dematerialization.”

The kids in the audience went wild, screaming and kicking their feet while shouting, “Dematerialization! Dematerialization!”

I had to admit, Garrett’s shtick was pretty good. Even the adults in the audience were getting into it. Everyone was smiling and buzzing to one another, especially Saul, probably the toughest critic in the place, since he’d written numerous books featuring the occult (although they were all for adult readers). Over on the dock, people who weren’t attending the book festival, and so couldn’t get into Cracked, were jostling with one another for a better view.

Even Will, when I stole a glance at him, was grinning, enjoying the spectacle. Garrett may have been a writer, but he had a strong streak of showmanship in him. My dad would have been impressed.

I decided the wisest course of action was to play along soI didn’t look like a “party pooper,” even though I still didn’t trust—or like—Garrett.

“Okay,” I said. “Let me see them.”

“The manacles, madam.” Garrett slapped the cuffs into my hands. “And the only existing key.” He withdrew from the same pocket a tiny key on a long silver chain. “You will hold on to this until I return from the spiritual plane to which I shall travel while attempting to free myself. You and only you, Ms. Wright, shall have the means to free me. If I fail—though I pray to the gods of darkness I shall not—you must use this key to save me.”