“Aren’t you going to tell us how much it costs?” she demanded. “And what’s the prize? And why should we buy anything from you in the first place?”
“’Cause we’re the Hexers.”
“So?”
The boy’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Hey, Ratter,” he called without taking his eyes off Lily. “Why don’t you show her what you can do.”
A scrawny boy stepped out from the little cluster of Hexers, grinning nervously. “What d’you want, Joe? Hives or Boils?”
Joe hesitated. But before he could answer, a third boy chimed in. “Aw, can’t you do any better’n that, Ratter? It’s been nothin’ but hives an’ boils all month long. We’re gonna be the laughingstock of the neighborhood if you don’t come up with some new hexes soon!”
“Did I ask for your opinion?” Joe said scathingly. He turned back to the scrawny hex caster. “Give ’er the hives, Ratter!”
“Now, look,” Sacha interrupted, putting his hands up. “I’m sure we can work this ou—”
But it was too late. even as Sacha spoke, angry red welts were spreading across Lily’s perfect peaches and cream complexion.
“Oh!” she cried, putting her hands to her face as if she was desperately trying not to scratch at them.
“Now, now, boys,” said a voice from over Sacha’s shoulder. “Is that any way to treat a lady?”
Their rescuer turned out to be a handsome boy a few years older than Lily and Sacha, with an open, friendly face and impossibly blue eyes that sparkled with barely contained laughter. He looked like the kind of nice Irish boy even Sacha’s mother would approve of.
When Sacha looked back over at Lily, her hives had vanished and she was practically swooning in gratitude. He would never have imagined she could act so silly.
“Thank you!” she fluttered. “Thank you so much, Mr. … well, I don’t even know your name, do I?”
The young man sketched a humorous bow. “Paddy Doyle at your service, miss.”
Sacha frowned. he was sure he’d heard that name before. But he didn’t have time to remember where, because the Hexers were exploding into wails of outrage and frustration.
“Paddy!” Joe yelped. “You ain’t gonna let ’er off buyin’ a ticket just ’cause she’s a girl, are you?”
“For sure I’m not.” Paddy turned his bright blue gaze on Sacha, and though he was still smiling, he didn’t look nearly as friendly as he had just a moment ago. “I believe the tickets are a nickel apiece. Or ten cents, if you’d prefer to pay for the young lady.”
“What?” Lily spluttered. “You’re not going to stop these — these—
“Actually,” Paddy explained in his charming Irish brogue, “I’m with the hooligans.”
He flashed Sacha and Lily a conspiratorial wink, as if to say they were all good friends and there was nothing to worry about. Sacha didn’t have any illusions, though. he shrugged in resignation and reached into his pocket for his subway money. But before he could fish out the coins, Lily opened her mouth again.
“How can you be such a cad?” she demanded, squaring off against Paddy with her hands on her hips.
“That’s the way of the wicked world, darlin’.”
Lily’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment she looked almost as formidable as Paddy Doyle. “Maybe so,” she snapped. “But I’m still not buying any stupid lottery ticket.”
Paddy’s smile broadened into an outright grin. “You got a better idea?”
“Actually, I do.”
Lily was still holding the Hexers’ baseball, and now she slapped it into the grimy hand of the closest Hexer and grabbed the bat from his slack-jawed neighbor. “One pitch. If I miss, we each owe you a nickel. If I hit a homer, you owe us a nickel. Every one of you.” She counted heads. “That makes sixty cents total.”
“But — you
“Why not?” Lily asked curiously.
Sacha stared at the shiny blond hair, the immaculate white stockings, the frothy lace petticoats peeping out from under her dress. “Because you’re a
“I’ll have you know that Smith and Vassar have both fielded baseball teams for at least the last twenty years,” she declared as if that settled the matter beyond all question.
“And which professional league do Smith and Vassar play in?” Sacha asked sarcastically.
Lily rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, what hole did you crawl out of? Haven’t you ever heard of Lizzie Arlington? Or the Bloomer Girls? Or — oh, never mind!” She broke off in disgust at the depths of his ignorance and stalked off across the vacant lot toward the upturned tin can that served the Hexers for home base.
Meanwhile, the Hexers had clearly accepted Lily’s bet. They were running out to take up their fielding positions — or maybe, Sacha thought cynically, just to cut off the escape routes.
Lily limbered up at the plate, spitting on her palms and kicking at the packed dirt of the empty lot like some tobacco-chewing slugger from the heart of the Yankees lineup. Sacha groaned inwardly at the thought of what the Hexers would do to them if Lily actually won. But then he told himself not to worry. She’d just swing and miss. And even if she didn’t miss, how hard could a girl really hit the ball?
Pretty hard, it turned out.
In fact, hard enough to send a blistering line drive shrieking across the abandoned lot to shatter a window in the neighboring tenement building.
After the glass shattered, there was a moment of stunned silence that seemed to stretch into eternity. Then three things happened all at once. A woman in curling papers leaned out the window and started screaming at them in language that would have shocked a dockworker. The Hexers scattered across the abandoned lot to hunt for their ball. And Lily rested the bat triumphantly on one toe and crowed, “that’ll be sixty cents please!”
Sacha couldn’t decide who was being more wildly optimistic: Lily or the Hexers. Sure, most of the time a ball bounced back off a window after cracking it. But Lily had hit that one harder than he’d ever seen a kid hit a ball. And if she thought the Hexers were going to pay up on their bet
“Uh … maybe we should go now,” he said, tugging on her elbow.
Throughout all this, Paddy Doyle hadn’t moved a muscle. But now he laughed and said, “I wouldn’t wait around to collect if I were you. In fact, I’d get lost before they realize you put their ball straight through that nice lady’s window and they’re never gonna get it back again. Nice hit, by the way.” He grinned wickedly. “If you field as well as you bat, I might just have to fall in love with you.”
Sacha opened his mouth to demand that Doyle apologize for insulting Lily, but then he looked over at Lily and noticed to his annoyance that she didn’t look insulted at all. “Let’s get out of here,” he grumbled. “You’re never going to get your sixty cents. They probably don’t even
“Are you saying they made a bet they couldn’t deliver on?” Lily demanded, her eyes flashing with indignation. “That’s … why … why … that’s
“I happen to agree with you,” Paddy said, flashing his wicked smile again. “But I’ve a reputation to maintain, and I can’t afford to ruin it. Not even for pretty girls who play baseball.”
And then it really was too late. The Hexers descended on Sacha, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and dragged him behind a broken-down beer wagon. They didn’t bother with fancy footwork or pugilist’s rules; they just knocked him down and jumped on him. Lily hovered over the writhing pile, brandishing the bat, torn between the desire to help and the fear of seriously hurting someone. Finally she threw the bat away and waded in, armed only with her fists. Not that it did any good. Valiant though Lily might be, she was no taller than Sacha and even skinnier.
Which was why he was so surprised when one of the Hexers was suddenly jerked backward by a strong hand, just as he was about to land a crushing blow on Sacha’s nose.
He was even more surprised when he realized that the hand was attached to a crisply ironed shirt cuff and a seer-sucker suit sleeve.
“Payton!” he gasped. “What—”
“If you don’t mind,” Payton replied coolly, “I’d rather leave the explanations for later. I’m rather busy at the moment.”
The next few seconds went by so fast that Sacha only got a confused impression of flying limbs and
