Summer Sun's Arc

Chapter 3 of 15

Matilda found Angela near the forest edge where the shadows pooled thick between the trees. Angela was picking mushrooms and putting them in her pockets. She did not see the witch until Matilda's hand was already on her shoulder. "Hold still," Matilda said. Angela held still. Matilda whispered three words that tasted like rust and smoke. The air around Angela's head shimmered, then went flat. Angela's eyes glazed over, smooth as river stones. Her hands dropped to her sides. Matilda leaned close and spoke directly into her ear. "Go to the thermometer. Turn the needle as high as it will go." Angela turned and walked toward the meadow without answering. Her boots moved in a straight line. She did not look down to avoid the roots. She stepped over them perfectly, as if something else was counting her steps. Summer Sun was replanting the feather pole when she saw Angela coming. Angela's face was blank. Her mouth hung slightly open. She walked past Summer Sun without stopping, without blinking, and put both hands on the golden thermometer. "Angela?" Summer Sun said. Angela did not answer. She gripped the needle and turned it. The needle swung upward. The air in the meadow grew hotter. The sunflowers drooped. The grass began to brown at the edges. Angela kept turning. Summer Sun ran to the thermometer and grabbed the needle with both hands. She pulled it back down. It moved an inch, then stopped. She pulled harder. The metal burned her palms but would not turn. It was locked in place, held by something she could not see. The number kept climbing. The meadow shimmered with heat. "Angela, stop!" Summer Sun shouted. Angela let go of the needle. She blinked. Her eyes cleared slowly, like fog lifting off a pond. She looked at her hands, then at the thermometer, then at Summer Sun. "What am I doing here?" Angela said. Her voice was small. "You were turning the thermometer," Summer Sun said. She was still holding the needle. It was too hot to touch but she did not let go. "You were making it hotter." Angela stepped back. "I don't remember walking here." She looked at the meadow, at the wilting flowers, at the sky that had gone white with heat. "I was in the forest. I was picking mushrooms. Then I was here. I wanted to turn it. I had to turn it." Her hands started to shake. "Summer Sun, I think Matilda put a spell on me." Summer Sun let go of the needle. Her palms were red. The thermometer glowed in the center of the meadow, hotter than it had ever been. The number at the top was still climbing. She looked at Angela, who was crying now, and then she looked toward the forest where Matilda had gone. The witch was not just angry. She was cruel. And she was not finished.