When Dad was gone, the awkward tension went from mildly unbearable to incredibly uncomfortable. I stood up and carried my plate over to the sink, washing it off and sticking it in the dishwasher.
“You’re so grown up,” Mom said, leaning back in her chair and narrowing her eyes. “I feel like I don’t even know you, honey.”
I frowned. “That’s an odd thing to say,” I said slowly. “Are you mad at me?”
Mom gazed at me with a glassy expression. “Of course not,” she said. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. It feels like yesterday that you were back in high school.”
“I’m going upstairs for the night,” I said, feigning a yawn. “Want me to clean up?”
Mom shook her head. “No, honey, it’s okay,” she said. “Thanks for offering.”
I darted up the stairs, unable to shake the feeling that I’d somehow driven myself back in time.
Waiting for Mom and Dad to go to sleep was torture. It was ridiculous – I was an adult now, it wasn’t like I had to wait for their permission to leave. But again, being back in their house made me feel young and inexperienced, a true naïf.
Finally, around ten-thirty, the light under my parents’ bedroom door turned off. I dressed in jeans, a pair of hiking boots, and a thick sweater, but then I made myself wait another fifteen minutes. It wasn’t until I could hear the loud sound of my dad snoring through his bedroom door that I snuck downstairs and crept outside, into the woods.
“I’m coming for you, Monica,” I said under my breath. “You’d better be ready.”
My boots crunched over dead leaves and twigs as I walked hesitantly into the woods. I shivered, remembering the last time I’d looked for the coven – years ago, before leaving for abroad. Then, I wasn’t able to find it. But tonight I was feeling determined and powerful. The moon was almost full and I tried to summon the strength of the goddess as I walked through the branches and brambles.
I’m a goddess, just like you, I thought in determination as I hiked further and further away.
For once, I felt confident and strong. Sure enough, the woods around me began to thin and warm as I approached the coven. When I hit the clearing, I took a deep breath.
“Ligeia,” I called loudly. “I’ve returned.”
Ligeia floated across the clearing, looking pleased and dignified. “Child,” she said. “You’ve come back. I knew you would return.”
I forced a smile. I knew that I was about to give the biggest theatrical performance of my life, and I was starting to get nervous. My hands were sweaty and I wiped them on my thighs.
“Yes,” I said, keeping my voice sweet and light. “I came back. I had to, you know.”
“And have you made your decision?”
Swallowing, I nodded briefly. “Yes,” I said softly. “I’ve decided to remain here, and allow Monica the chance of returning to the world beyond the coven.”
Ligeia smiled. “Good,” she said. “I am pleased with you, child. Henrik, too, will be pleased.”
“I’m glad.”
“Come, child,” Ligeia said, clapping her hands together briefly. “There is much to be done.”
I followed Ligeia through the clearing, between the different huts, and into the circle of woods where Andrea’s body had been bound to a tree years ago. I could feel her energy pulsing weakly through the enchanted land – she was still alive, but barely.
“It doesn’t seem like years have passed,” I said softly. “It feels almost like yesterday.”
Ligeia smiled, showing her even and white teeth. “I can understand that, child,” she said. “For me, it has been a mere blink.”
My apprehension grew as I followed Ligeia deeper and deeper into the woods. The moon was gleaming and white overhead – I wasn’t sure why, but it always seemed much larger in the coven than it did in the real world.
Ligeia stopped and pulled a knife from her robes. She held it out to me and gave me an expectant look.
“Offer yourself to the earth, child,” Ligeia said.
Gritting my teeth, I took the sacred athame from Ligeia’s hands and sliced open my palms, squeezing the puckered skin until the blood was flowing freely. It hurt, but I felt somehow detached from the pain.
So far, everything is working, I thought as I knelt and smeared my palms to the earth. Ligeia knelt down and took my wrists in her hands with surprising strength. She bound my wrists together with a leather cord.
“Your soul shall be bound to the coven from this point forward,” Ligeia said. She took the athame and gently scratched something on my forehead with the tip. As I felt the sharp blade cut into my skin, I winced.
Ligeia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Then she began to chant, mumbling under her breath and rolling her head around on her neck. The trees began to wave and sway, mimicking Ligeia’s graceful movements. The wind increased and whirled around me, whipping my hair around my face in painful tangles. Ligeia’s chanting grew louder, as if it was coming from the earth itself. My heart started to thud faster and faster and soon, I felt like my chest was opening right up to the universe.
“You belong to us,” Ligeia thundered. I shivered – the sound of her voice was no longer just Ligeia’s, but Henrik’s, too, and all of the witches in the coven. Her blue eyes blazed brightly in the dim light and I shuddered at the intense look there.
Ligeia touched the knife to my chest, right above my heart. She pressed the blade against my skin until I began to bleed. Strangely, it didn’t hurt at all – but I felt a strange, swirling energy inside my body. It was an odd feeling, almost like a storm was raging within my bones.
When it was over, Ligeia cut the cords from my wrists. Rubbing them with my fingers, I climbed shakily to my feet.
“Now, child, you want to see Monica, yes?”
“Yes.” My mouth was dry and I licked my lips. “Please, I mean.”
Ligeia nodded. “I am pleased with you,” she said. “You have done well, Elizabeth.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. If she had any idea how I was really feeling,…well, I didn’t even want to think about that.
I followed Ligeia out of the woods and back into the clearing. Monica was sitting there, with her head cocked to the side. When she saw me, she looked confused.
“Ligeia, mistress, I have one favor to ask from you,” I said, bowing my head to show respect. “Please, allow me to leave one last time – so that I can say goodbye to my fiancé, Steven.”
Ligeia frowned. “You have broken with him, have you not?”
“Yes, because I knew I was coming back here,” I said softly. “But I want to say goodbye.”
Monica narrowed her eyebrows. “Ligeia,” she said quickly. “You have to let Elizabeth go, or else my spell still holds on Steven. He won’t ever get over it, or have a normal life, without her. She has to see him once more to break the enchantment.”
Ligeia’s blue eyes were two turbulent storms as she stared at Monica, then at me.
“Child,” she said quietly. “You deceived me.”
Fear struck my heart and I shook my head quickly from side to side. “I didn’t,” I said quickly.
“Elizabeth didn’t mean to,” Monica said. “She didn’t know about the spell I’d cast, Ligeia.”
Ligeia gave me a long, hard look. “Your soul is bound to that of Prudence Arrowsmith now,” she said. “If you do not return of your own free will, I will be forced to come and take you. That will not be pleasant,” she said, staring coldly. “You understand, yes?”
“I know,” I said quickly. Inside, I was panicking. But something about Monica’s calm expression made me feel better – was it true, what she’d said about the spell?
It didn’t matter, as long as I had one last chance to break free.
“Besides, I should take Monica back,” I added softly. “She’s been away for years. She’ll need to acclimate.”
Ligeia scoffed. “I do not wish to hear any more,” she said. I could tell she was seething with anger.
“Go, then, if you must,” she said. “But when you return, know that from that point on, you belong to me. The coven will be your permanent home. You will never be allowed to leave.”
I didn’t say anything – I was too afraid that somehow agreeing with her would just make things worse. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Monica grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. We walked through the clearing together, my heart pounding in my chest.
“What are you doing,” I hissed.
Monica looked at me, clearly frightened. “Shh,” she said. “Not yet, it’s not safe.”
We walked on in silence. The blood pounding against my eardrums was deafening, and it took a full minute to realize that we were actually running. As the woods grew denser and less full of Ligeia’s powerful magic, I felt an equal sense of relief and terror shooting through my body.
We didn’t stop running until we were almost out of the woods. When I could see the treeline and the houses of Jaffrey, I took a deep breath and stopped, leaning over to rub my legs.
“Monica…” I trailed off, reaching for my friend’s shoulder. She stopped and turned, giving me a frightened look.
“What?”
I swallowed nervously. “People…everyone thinks your dead,” I said softly. “They had a memorial service and everything.”
Monica gave me a strange look. “I’m not surprised,” she said, shaking her head. “It was probably easier for Henrik to do that than worry about wiping everyone’s minds.”
I bit my lip. A cold chill came over me and I shuddered. My palms were still bleeding from the deep cuts of Ligeia’s athame.
“Why did you do that,” Monica asked softly. “Why would you risk coming back like this, Elizabeth?”
“I had to,” I said. “I…Something’s not right,” I added.
“No shit,” Monica said darkly. “They lied to us the whole time. I just wish I could’ve told you before you signed yourself over like that.”
“What?” I frowned. “What do you mean, lied?”
“About everything,” Monica said. “Come on, this way.”
She led me around the back of her house and into the yard. When we were just a short distance away from the woods, Monica turned to me with tears glistening in her brown eyes.
“They lied about everything,” she said, sniffling. “About Andrea, about Prudence – about the real reason why they wanted her.”
My heart sank. “So I was right,” I said slowly. “I had a feeling…that something wasn’t right.”
“It’s worse than you could have imagined,” Monica said. She swallowed hard. “They didn’t want to protect the world from Prudence. They wanted her soul for themselves – they wanted her power, and they told me they were sick of living in hiding.” She wrapped her thin arms around her thin torso and hugged herself tightly. “And now, they have her soul. They can do it, Elizabeth. They can unleash hell on the whole world.”
For a moment, I thought I was going to pass out.
“Why? Why would they do this? And then lie – why would they lie to us?”
Monica looked miserable. “Because they’re powerful witches,” she said, shaking her head. “And we only have one chance at defeating them.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way we’d be able to do that,” I said softly. “There’s no way we’re strong enough.”
Monica smiled. “You’re forgetting something,” she said. “Before I left…well, I have a surprise for you.”
I frowned. “This isn’t a time to joke around,” I said, shaking my head. “This is really fucked up, Monica! This is serious shit!”
“I know,” Monica said. “Look, I’m not trying to make light of the situation. But I swear, this is important.”
“What, then?”
Monica pointed toward the woods. When I saw Andrea walking towards us, in a ghostly trance, I shrieked with fear.
“Shhh, Elizabeth!” Monica grabbed my hand and squeezed. “This is a good thing, she’s going to help us!”
“You’re kidding,” I said warily. “You hate each other.”
“Prudence’s soul is asleep,” Monica said, shaking her head. “But we don’t have much time.”
Andrea came closer and closer. She was floating just above the ground, the tips of her feet brushing against the wet grass. Her eyes were closed and I could sense that she was barely alive, that she was on the very edge of death.
“Andrea,” Monica said, snapping her fingers. “Wake up.”
Andrea’s eyelids flew open. “Hello, Elizabeth,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time.”
I stared right back at her. “Yes,” I replied. “Yes, it has.”
Chapter Eight
Andrea
When I was a little girl, my mother used to hold me in her arms and tell me that I was the most special child in the world. For a long time, I never really thought anything of it.
But as I got older, I realized how different my life was from the other children I knew.
We were always a very close-knit family. I was close to my mother, my aunts and uncles, and my brother, Steven. Mother prided herself on being the strength of the family, the backbone that kept the rest of us going. She was so strong that it scared me sometimes – I could hardly watch her without wondering if I’d ever learn to be as tough.
When I was four years old, something happened that would change the rest of my life. I remember the day really well – it was bright and sunny and humid, one of those summer days that makes you tired just from the heat. My older brother, Steven, and I were at church, in the basement: it was Vacation Bible School week, and I’d just gotten my very first bible. I was so proud and happy, I couldn’t stop running around and showing it off.
One of the other children pulled me aside and gave me a mean look.
“Do you believe in Hell,” she asked, plucking the bible from my hands and flipping through the thin pages. “Because I think we’re all going there.”
I can’t remember what I said back to her, but it really upset me. I couldn’t stop crying, and I wouldn’t tell my mother – or anyone else – what was bothering me so much. I was suddenly terrified of dying and going to Hell. For months and months, it was all I thought about. I barely slept. At night, I’d pull the covers over my head and pray for hours, too keyed up to drift off.
I thought it was real, you see – I felt it was real, with every cell in my body.
That was when I became truly religious. Our whole family was very pious, even Steven, before he got into high school. Mother would pray with us nightly, holding our hands and instructing us to stay close as a family. It was hugely important to me. And I have to admit, I enjoyed the special attention that I got from Mother now that I was learning to have a personal relationship with God.
But when I started school, everything changed. In kindergarten, I wasn’t very happy. Eventually, after a couple of months, the teachers tested me and decided that I should be placed in first grade. They thought that would help, but at first, it just made things worse. I felt so much smaller and younger than the rest of the children in my class, even though they were just one year older than myself. It was a strange and scary experience, and the only thing that got me through it was knowing that at the end of each day, I’d go home and Mother would be waiting with a snack in the kitchen.
My brother, Steven, took naturally to school. He was smart and athletic, and his older friends would always hang around the house, eating all of our food and making a mess in the kitchen. Mother didn’t mind, even when I sulk about it – she was happy that her children were doing well and making friends.
“Andrea, you’ve got to be friendly,” she’d say when I complained about not having any friends. “You’ve got to make those older kids realize that you deserve to be with them, don’t you understand?”
I understood, but I was so naturally shy that it was hard.
Then one day, everything changed. I was crying in the bathroom and two girls in my class – Elizabeth Ha
rtsell and Monica Boer – walked into the bathroom. I’d never talked to them before. Elizabeth seemed nice enough: she was quiet, like me. But Monica was a troublemaker. She was loud and brash and she’d made half of the boys in our class cry.
I was afraid of her.
“Why are you crying?” Monica asked, walking over and putting her hands on her hips. She was short and slim, but somehow she seemed as intimidating as an adult. “There’s no reason to be upset,” she added. “You’re fine.”
“Monica…” Elizabeth looked at her friend and trailed off. “Andrea, what’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid,” I said softly.
“Don’t be stupid,” Monica said. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“But I might die,” I replied. Tears filled my eyes and my chin began to tremble and shake. “I might die and go to Hell.”
Elizabeth and Monica exchanged a weird look.
“You’re not going to die, don’t be stupid,” Monica said. She spoke with the arrogant air of our teacher. “Stop crying. We should go back to class.”
But Elizabeth had been kinder. She’d taken my hand and told me that everything was going to be okay, that I just had to take a few deep breaths until I calmed down. To my shock, she was right.
After that, we sort of became friends. I wasn’t particularly close to either of the girls, but my mother was just happy that I had a few acquaintances for playdates. And Monica was oddly fascinated with our house – she loved coming over and poking around, sticking her nose in all of Mother’s religious books.
“Little girls shouldn’t be reading that,” Mother said once, flushing as she plucked a book about natural contraception from Monica’s hands. “It’s inappropriate.”
Monica stuck her tongue out. “Jamie and Brian let me read whatever I want,” she said, tossing her fair hair. “I don’t think it’s fair.”
My mother didn’t care for Monica after that – she said she was disrespectful – but I couldn’t help it. I was suddenly in awe of her. She was so cool. She never cared what anyone thought about her, and she could come up with insults quicker than I could snap my fingers. Most of all, her parents let her wear whatever she wanted…and she called them by their first names! She was like a character from a show: cool and wild and more than a little scary.
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