by Nicole Maggi
The instant she was out of sight I was on my feet and running for the Cave. The pungent smell of ripening cheese washed over me when I crossed the threshold.
Heath worked at the long table, folding various herbs into different piles of soft cheese. “Make yourself useful,” he said. “And keep an ear out for your mother.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I’m not making myself useful until you answer some questions.”
Heath glanced up. “Fine, but if your mother comes in and asks why we’re talking about the Benandanti, you can tell her.”
I peeked out the door, but there was no sign of Lidia. “Why do we need to protect the magic? What’s so bad about the Malandanti controlling it?”
Heath stared at me like I had just called North Korea misunderstood. “Every time the Malandanti use the magic, it weakens the earth a little bit more. That stuff you hear on the news—tons of fish washing up dead, bee colonies disappearing, birds dropping out of the sky—it’s because of the Malandanti. It’s all connected. And they’ll stop at nothing to keep control of the magic.” He slammed his hand down on the table, leaving a cheese handprint on the wood. “Don’t you get it? They used the magic and saw that a new Benandante would be Called. They saw the Falcon on the bridge. So they went there to stop it. To stop you.” He leaned into the table. “To kill you.”
I remembered what the Stag had said at the bridge. To kill one of us, they’ve killed dozens. I clung to the door, feeling sick. “All those people . . . they’re dead because of me . . .”
Heath’s face softened. “No, Alessia. They’re dead because the Malandanti have no conscience.” He traced a groove in the table. “But you can honor their memory by helping us regain control of the Waterfall.”
I swallowed, my mouth dry and scratchy. “What happens if we regain control?”
“Right now, the Malandanti control five of the seven sites,” Heath said. “Once we control all seven, we can safeguard the magic forever.”
Outside, the goats in the pasture bleated. I looked out into the twilight and spotted Lidia climbing the hill. “My mother’s coming.” I met Heath’s eyes across the length of the table. “What do I do now?”
“You decide.” He brushed a lock of sandy hair out of his eyes, leaving a trail of herbs on his forehead. “The Benandanti give you a choice. You can say no and pretend this never happened.”
“Pretend?” I shook my head. He was insane. As if I could ever forget what it felt like to spread my wings and fly. “And if I say yes?”
Heath’s mouth twisted into the shadow of a grin. “You have to say yes before I can answer that.”
Chapter Nine
The Decision
Until sundown. That was all the time Heath said I had to decide whether or not to accept the Call. All the time I had to decide the rest of my life. Even Ivy League schools gave you more time than that.
I met Jenny on the way to school as usual, but this morning she ran to me and gave me a tight hug. “I was really worried about you yesterday. I called you in the morning, but Lidia said you were asleep.”
“I’m okay,” I said. A little knot tightened in the pit of my stomach. I had always shared everything with Jenny, and now there was something I couldn’t tell her. “How are you?”
Jenny hunched her shoulders. “Still kinda freaked out.”
“I can’t believe they cancelled school yesterday.”
“I know.” She tucked her arm through my elbow, and we headed down the road. “I went to Joe’s in the afternoon, and everyone was all over me about what happened.”
I didn’t say anything. What could I possibly say, when the accident was my fault? However much Heath assured me it wasn’t, I was still the cause of the bridge collapse. I swallowed several times to dispel the lump in my throat and watched our feet as we walked, my dirt-stained UGGs next to Jenny’s pristine red cowboy boots. I wished there was some way I could ask her advice without telling her about the Benandanti. “Was there anyone we knew? Lidia wouldn’t tell me.”
Jenny clutched my arm tighter. “The guy who owns Pizza Plus. He was the only name I recognized.”
My skin prickled, hot and cold all at once. Pizza Plus was in the next town over; we went there at least every other week. I could picture him, a rotund man with white hair and a mustache, red cheeks, always smiling. Gone. Because of me. “That’s—that’s—really sad,” I managed to choke out.
“I know.” Jenny leaned her head on my shoulder as we walked. “I keep thinking about those people. The ones, you know, who were in the middle of the bridge when it fell.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. “It haunts me,” I whispered.
Jenny threw her arm around me and squeezed hard. “Me too.” We stood for a moment in the middle of the street, hugging and sniffling. Jenny pulled back and dried her eyes with the back of her hand. “My dad said when things like this happen it makes you stop and think about what’s really important.”
“He’s right.” We started walking again in silence. I turned her words over inside me. What was really important to me? Being a normal girl? Or protecting my home? I twisted my fingers into the plush sheepskin of Jenny’s jacket, as if holding on to her would give me the answer I needed.
We walked into the schoolyard, still arm in arm. Kids bustled in through the front door, laughing and horsing around before the walls of the school confined them. I watched them as though they were inside a snow globe and I was outside, shaking it upside down. They had no idea how fragile the world was.
By the end of my first period in the office my head hurt from all the questions banging around inside it. I downed a bottle of water on my way to French. The chair behind me was empty, but I hoped it wouldn’t be for long. At the thought of seeing Jonah, my headache eased a little. I tapped my foot against the leg of the desk, my gaze flitting from the door to Carly, who asked question after question about the bridge collapse.
I kicked the chair in front of me. “It was really scary, and the last thing I want to do is relive it. So stop asking me about it. Okay?”
Carly stared at me for a minute. “Fine. Sorry.”
I rubbed my temples, ignoring the hurt look on her face.
Just before the bell rang, Jonah slouched into the room and sank into the chair behind me.
I ducked my head and pretended to be fascinated by my French textbook. As Madame Dubois called the class to order, I felt a poke on my shoulder and turned.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I answered.
Jonah swallowed. “I heard about the bus crash.” His face was pale. “Glad you’re okay.”
A small smile crept onto my face. He cared that I wasn’t dead. That was something at least. “Thanks.”
“And don’t forget that your permission slips for our trip to Paris are due in just a few weeks.”
The words pulled my attention to the front of the room and wiped the smile right off my face. I slumped over the desk, my chin pressed into my wrists. Sure, I could fly out my bedroom window, but I still couldn’t go to Paris.
A note landed on my desk and skittered toward the edge. I caught it before it fell off and glanced up at the front of the room. Madame Dubois had her back to the class, writing out verb conjugations on the board. The note was folded in eighths; I opened it one fold at a time to minimize the noise, expecting to see Jenny’s loopy handwriting scrawled across the page.
But instead, neat rows of block lettering met my eyes.
Why so blue?
If it was up to you
What would you do
On this fine day
Wouldn't you say
A better way
To pass the time
It would be divine
To drink wine
And fly kites
In the City of Light
On starry nights?
It was entirely in French. I had trouble with kites and had to flip through my French-to-English dictionary to find the translation. I read thro
ugh the poem again, translating it in my head. Madame Dubois’s voice became a distant buzz in my ear as I read the note over and over again. At last, I twisted slightly in my chair and looked behind me.
Jonah met my eyes and winked.
I faced forward so fast I got dizzy. What did it mean? Did he like me? Or was he just bored? I smoothed the paper out onto my desk. Whatever it meant, it deserved a response.
If it was up to me
I’d be in gay Paree
Sitting under a tree
Eating Brie.
I folded the note into eighths again and tossed it lightly over my shoulder.
In less than two minutes, the paper sailed back to my desk.
So let us catch a breeze
To the land of wine and cheese
We’ll stroll the Tuileries
And do just what we please.
I felt myself smile, the first real one since the crash. The weight of my dilemma was a little lighter on my shoulders as I poised my pen over the paper and tried to think of a word to rhyme with Versailles.
By the time class ended, every inch of the paper was covered in our writing. I tucked the note into my backpack as the bell rang and stood up.
Jonah brushed past me, his hand touching mine for a fraction of a second.
When I looked up, he was halfway out the door.
Jenny waved to me from the cafeteria table where we usually sat with Melissa and Carly, but I ignored her for a moment and scanned each of the long tables, trying to find the figure in black amongst all the multicolor. Jonah was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, I trudged over to where my friends sat and dropped into a chair. “Carly, I’m sorry I snapped at you in French.”
“It’s okay. I was probably being annoying.”
“You?” I cocked my head. “Never.”
She laughed, and I knew that all was forgiven. At least that was one thing taken care of.
“All right, enough with the lovefest,” Jenny said. She grinned at me. “You gonna cough up that note or what?”
Melissa and Carly leaned forward eagerly.
“You got sauce on your sleeve,” I told Carly, and she pulled her elbow out of her plate of spaghetti with a grimace.
“Come on,” Melissa said, elongating her vowels as if she were speaking to a disobedient five-year-old.
I hugged my backpack. “It doesn’t say anything important. It’s silly.”
“Then why won’t you show us?” Jenny said, sitting back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest.
“Because it’s private.” I swallowed. “Look, he didn’t say anything about his weirdo family or anything. It’s just a funny little note.”
“If it’s just—”
“Oh, my God, leave it alone.” I stuck my tongue out at Jenny to show her I wasn’t really mad but that the discussion was over. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t want them to see the note, but the thought of them reading it seemed wrong.
They all shrugged and dug into their lunches. I pulled my brown-bag lunch out of my backpack and emptied its contents onto the table. Melissa eyed my goat cheese and prosciutto sandwich on thick homemade bread. I pushed it toward her. “Go ahead.”
“Really?” she asked, not waiting for further permission before snatching the sandwich up.
“Really,” I said. “I’m not hungry.” Against my will I glanced toward the door to the cafeteria, but it framed a trio of giggling ninth graders. Well, at least I had found something to distract me from the life-altering decision I had to make. I glanced at the clock. It was just after noon. I had less than six hours left before I had to tell Heath yes or no. I gulped some bottled water and watched Melissa chomp on my sandwich. “Hey, can I ask you guys a hypothetical question?”
“Sure,” said Carly as she dabbed at her stained sleeve with a wet napkin. She only succeeded in leaving little bits of paper clinging to the sauce stain. “Crap. I liked this shirt.”
“You have another just like it,” Jenny told her and turned to me. “What’s up? You have your serious face on.”
Carly dropped the napkin to focus on me and folded her hands on the table. “You’re right; she does. What’s wrong?”
Under the intensity of their combined gazes, my insides wilted. “Nothing—I—never mind.”
Jenny cocked her head. “If you can’t talk to us, who can you talk to?”
Who indeed? But I couldn’t tell them this, not without sounding insane. I swallowed, my throat sticky despite the water I’d downed. “I just—” I took a deep breath and exhaled the words in a rush. “What would you guys do if you had the chance to do something really amazing, but it would change the rest of your life? Like, your life would never be normal again?”
“Who wants normal?” Jenny popped a fry into her mouth. “I can’t wait to get out of this town and find out what not normal is.”
“I don’t know,” Carly said slowly, shaking her head. “There’s a lot to be said for normal.”
“Well, are we talking about going off on some awesome trip?” Melissa asked. “Or like, getting bit by a radioactive spider?”
I scrunched up my face. “More the latter.”
“Oh. No way,” Carly said. “You saw what a hard time Peter Parker had. I would never want to live like that.”
“Even if you could save lives?” I asked.
“I’d leave the lifesaving to someone else,” Carly said.
“Saving lives would be its own reward,” Melissa said, picking at a chip in the table, “even if it meant giving up other things.”
I gave her a little smile. I knew she was thinking of her mother, who suffered from an autoimmune disease that prevented her from doing things that all the other mothers did.
“I think it would be hard to pass up that kind of power if someone offered it to me,” Jenny said. “Especially if it meant saving lives.” A shadow fell across her eyes as she searched my face. “Is this about the bus crash?”
“No. Well, sort of, I guess. I’m reading this book, and I wondered what you guys would do.”
“Oh, man,” Melissa breathed. “Look who just walked in.”
I glanced at the door to the cafeteria, let my gaze hang there. Bree stood in the doorway, her face pinched and tight. “I wonder where Jonah is,” I murmured.
My three friends exchanged looks.
“What?” I said defensively. “I just figured they’d be together since they don’t know anyone.”
“He knows you,” Carly said with a giggle and a nod toward my bag where the note lay hidden.
“Oh, shut up.” As Bree approached our table, I caught her eye. “Hey, Bree. You can sit with us if you want.”
She stopped and swept her gaze over the four of us. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because you don’t know anyone else.”
“I don’t know you, either.” She hitched her bag higher up onto her shoulder.
“Look, I know it must suck having to move around so much, but your brother said—”
Bree slammed her palm down on the table, making Carly and Melissa jump. She leaned in close to me. “You leave my brother out of it.” Her green eyes flashed, jewel bright against the paleness of her skin. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from him.”
I fought the urge to back away from her. “Wow, overprotective much?”
“Save your breath, Lessi.” Jenny’s voice pitched louder than necessary, and several kids from the tables surrounding us turned around. “She’s obviously got issues. Who needs that?”
Bree pushed away from the table. Without looking at anyone, she walked straight to the only empty table in the cafeteria and sat down, her back like a steel rod.
“What is wrong with her?” I said to no one in particular.
“Nothing. She’s just angling for Bitch of the Year,” Jenny said.
“I think she’ll blow the competition out of the water,” Carly said.
I checked my watch. It was past noon, and I was no clo
ser to an answer than I had been at the beginning of lunch. “I think I’ll go to biology early and study,” I said. It wasn’t unusual for me to do this, and the girls waved good-bye as I stood and slung my backpack over my shoulder.
I didn’t go to biology, though; I wandered around the school, unable to quiet my mind. Only those born with the caul are fated to join the ranks of the Benandanti, according to the website. What did that mean? Did my parents know about this? I remembered Lidia’s reaction when I asked her about the amulet. She had to know something. But I couldn’t ask her without losing another basketful of eggs.
A group of freshman girls spilled out of the bathroom, their laughter echoing off the walls.
I ducked down an empty hallway and leaned against the cool concrete wall. In my head, I kept seeing the Raven dragging its claws through the water and Heath’s horrified reaction. How could I say no to protecting the beautiful place my father had loved? Then I remembered the Raven dangling me above the Bobcat, and I shivered. Saying yes didn’t mean just protecting the Waterfall. The Malandanti wanted to kill us. Did I want to live with that kind of danger?
I launched myself off the wall and hurried past a long wall of windows that looked out onto the marshy grounds next to the athletic field. There, sitting under the bleachers, was the only thing that could distract me from my train of thought. Jonah.
He had a book open in his lap. The wind tousled loose strands of hair around his face.
I put my palm against the window, almost as if I could touch him through the distance between us. As I did so, he whipped his head in my direction. I saw something lighten in his face when he saw me. It was that something that kept me at the window, holding his gaze, my hand printing itself on the glass.
The loud shriek of the bell jolted me backward, and I dropped my hand.
Students poured into the hallway, their voices echoing around me.
I peered through the window again at Jonah. He was hunched over his book, making no motion to come back into the building and go to biology, which I knew he had next. I shook my head—what was wrong with him?—and headed up the hall toward the biology classroom.
