Lonely Graves
Page 2
Itookabreathandsaid,“Yes.”
And then I pressed my lips together and pushed up to find that Chrysie had passedout.
“Ohgods,”IbreathedandthenIreachedashakinghandtowardsher.Shewas breathing,butonlyslightly.Andallherhard-earnedcolorwasgone.Itookher handandfoundshewastrembling.
“Here,”Felixsaid,reachingintohispocketandpullingouttwoofmyvials.
I stared down at the little vials. The silver one was my energy potion. The other…it was the color of old blood and flecked with black. I could feel the pulsatingpowercomingfromthevialwithoutopeningevenopeningit.
“Doyoucarryvampirepotion?”Iaskedhimsoftly.
Henodded.
“Gods,Felix,thankgoodnessforyourforesight.”MyhandsshookasIturned Chrysie over. Felix reached out and opened her mouth, and I dribbled both potions into her mouth and massaged her throat. She didn’t move for a long minuteandthengasped.
I jumped and then took hold of her as her eyes opened. “Chrysie,” I started, feeling another leftover tear roll down my cheek. I was not crying. I was not, damnit.
“It’sok,”shesaid.Hereyeswereredinsteadoftheirusualbrightblue.
“OhHecate,”Isaidstaring.
“WeneedtogetChrysiesomethingtoeatandsomemorepotion,”Felixsaid.
All of us were kneeling inside the pentagram. What if we hadn’t been in one?
WhathadIdone?WhathadIriskedbyjustblithelypressingforward?
“Whatabouttheghost?”Chrysieasked.
I hadn’t even thought of it. I stared towards the shadows where it had been anchoredandsawitwasempty.Ihadnoideaofthatwasagoodthingorabad thing.IhadnoideawhatIhaddone.Iwassuchafool.
“Isthatthesun?”Chrysieasked.
Igaspedandlookedaround.Theshadowsbetweenthetreeswasstilldark,but the black of the night’s sky had brightened to that weird gray of early, early dawn.
“Howlongwereweout?”Felixasked.
But I was sure I hadn’t passed out. I had just lain there, racked in pain, and thoughtithadfeltlikeforever.Ihadn’texpectedthatsomuchtimewasactually passing.
“Weneedtogetyourfriend,”Chrysiesaid.Ittookmelongtimetorealizeshe meantSaffron.Gods.
“We need to take care of you, Chrys,” Felix said. “You need potions and food.”
“Andrest,”Iadded.“We’lljusthavetobelate.”
Ipressedmylipstogetheratthethought.TheverylastpersonIwantedtobe late for was Saffron. But it couldn’t be helped. I broke the power line on the pentacleandsteppedintothetrees,feelingwithmysupernaturalsenses.Itwas empty.Iwassure.
ImetFelix’sgazeandmouthed,“I’msosorry.”
Hejustnodded.andthenwrappedChrysie’sarmaroundhisshoulderstobring her home. Normally, Felix felt like a dreadlocked version of Shaggy from Scooby-Doo.Rightthisminute,hefeltlikeahero.Iwassuchanidiot.Sucha stupid,self-absorbed,over-confidentfool.AndI’dputpeopleIcaredverymuch aboutatterriblerisk.
“I’msorry,”Isaidagain.
“It’sok,”Felixsaid.
“Itwasstupid,”Isaidagain.
“Yep,”Felixagreed.“Butwe’reallstupidsometimes.”
“Like you with Monica,” Chrysie said and then started giggling. I couldn’t help but join in. Even Felix laughed after a minute. It was music. Chrysie’s laugh.Aperfectsong.
CHAPTERTHREE
“Hi,” I tried and failed to say brightly to Saffron as she stepped into the wagon.Ourcarwasanancient,1952Mercurystationwagon.Itwaspinegreen with wood paneling. It was both awesome and horrible. We bought it from an oldladyrightafterwe’dmovedintoHallowHouse,butFelixhadbeenslowly workingonitwithbothrealmechanicalskillsandmagic.Whichmeantitpurred andhadamazinggasmileage.Itsmelledliketheoldlady,onestepfromdeath, somethingtotheeffectofoldrosesandmold.
Saffronwasprobablyinherlatetwentiesorearlythirties.Icouldn’treallytell.
Shescaredthepantsoffofme.Todayshewaswearingapinstripeskirtsuitwith pointy-toedshoesthatmademethinkshecouldandmaybewouldkillmewith herheels.Shehadlongblackhairupinoneofthosefancybunsandprettygreen eyes.Shewas,infact,gorgeousifyoucouldgetpastthefear.
“Whathappened?”Saffronasked.
IstartedtolieaboutthingscomingupsinceIwassodanglate.Thetruthwas I’dgrilledChrysiethreesteakswithmushroomsandonionsbeforeleaving,but Saffroncutmeoff.
“Don’tlie,Rue.Youcanchoosenottoanswer.”
Wellthatmademefeellikeabigjerk.IremindedmyselfthatHazelhadsent SaffronandHazelwouldnothavedonethatifshedidn’ttrustSaffron.Thiswas aconversationIhadwithmyselfatleastadozentimessinceIrealizedshewas coming. And I had to remind myself that my mother walking warily around Saffron didn’t mean Saffron was evil. It could just mean that my mother knew Saffron was a real challenge. And maybe more ruthless than Autumn Jones.
Whichwassayingsomething.
I didn’t say anything for a long time. It wasn’t awkward though. It was like Saffrongotit.Ormaybeshewasjustusedtootherwitchesbeingwaryofher.
Wellshiz.Thatmademefeelbad.Iwassoft.Ormaybe,Iwasjustoffbecauseof whathadhappenedwiththeghostandChrysieandFelixandhowImighthave almostkilledus.
Either way, I described to Saffron what happened, hoping I wasn’t being a foolbytrustingher.
“Thatwasn’tverysmart,”shesaid.
IswallowedsoIdidn’tsnapather.ShewasstillSaffronIves,daughterofthe
covenleaderofoneofthedarkestcovensintheU.S.Youdidn’tjust…mouthoff toher.
“Iknow,”Iadmitted.
“Imighthavedonethesame,”shesaidoffhandedly.Shekepthergazeoutthe window as she added, “It’s important, as witches with incredible power, to do what you can for others. To think of those who are weaker and help them.
Otherwise,wetooeasilybecometruemonsters.”
I paused for a long time. She knew I knew where she was from. She had to knowthatI’dbeputtingthebackstorytoherstatement.Andyetshe’dsaidit.I hadtoadmitthatIadmiredherforit.
“Rue,”shesaidsoftly,“I…”
Iglancedoverwhenshepaused.
She took a breath turning to face me and said, “That doesn’t sound like necromancytome.”
“Areyouanecromancer?”
“No,”shesaidveryclearly.“ButIamverywelltrainedindarkmagic.”
*
“Shesaidwhat?”Felixwassittingontheendofmybed.Chrysiewascurled upinmypillowssippingherfourthorfifthglassofcocoa.
“Shesaiditsoundedlikedarkmagicnotshadynecromancers.”
“Wellsonofa…”FelixstartedbutChrysieinterrupted.
“Whatdowedoaboutthat?”
Istaredatthemastheystared,expectantlyatme.
“Nothing,”Isaid.“Nothingatall.We’renotkeepersorthePresidium.”
“YouheardwhatSaffronsaid,”Felixsaidflatly.Hisgazewasfixedonmine.I frownedathim.Hefrownedbackatme.
“YoumeantheSpidermanquote?”Chrysieasked.
“What?”Iglancedbetweenthem.
Theybothgavemebaffledlooksandthenstartedlaughingatme.
“What?”Imighthavesoundedlikeaspoiledthree-year-old.
“Youhaven’tseenanyoftheSpidermanmov
ies?”
I shook my head. I didn’t really watch movies. Or do much of anything but witchcraft.
“Oh my gods, Rue!” Chrysie stood, sat, and then to Felix, “We have to fix her.”
“Butfirst,”Felixsaidmorecarefully.“Theghost.”
“Or whatever that was,” I said. And…really…it hadn’t seem much like the otherghostsI’dseen.Whathaditbeen?
“The quote though,” Chrysie said. “With great power comes great
responsibility. There is a bad witch out there hurting ghosts. Those are people.
Theymightbedead,butsoamI.Wecan’tjustletthatgo.”
“WecouldcallMonicaandthosetypes.”
“No!”ChrysieandIsnappedatFelix.
“Look,FinnyandtheteamofkeeperwannabesarenotEVERanoption.Do
yougetme?Ican’tstandFinny.ThereiszerochanceIamcallinghim.Damnit.
Youjinxedme.Damnit,Felix.Doyoufeelthat?Gods!Gods!Justcallhimnow and get it over with. Or something. I’m out.” I flung myself towards my bathroom.
“Ican’t,”Felixsaidandtherewasalaughinhisvoice.
“Why are you laughing?” I was breathing anger. I wouldn’t have been surprisediffirewerecomingfrommymouthornose.
“Wellthejinxwasn’tforme.Itwasforyou.”
“No,”Ishouted.“No!NotEVER!”
Buttherewasthatfallingsenseofsurety.IwouldcallFinnforhelp.DAMN
IT!IpickedupthenearestsomethingandthrewitatFelix.Herolledoffthebed to dodge, laughing so hard, he was hiccuping between bellows of laughter.
WhichhadChrysiegigglingwithtearsandall.
“Shutit,”Isortofwhimpered.“Justshutit.”
Chrysiecrossedtheroom,butitwasn’tadanceanditmademefeelsovery sad.Shealmostlumbered,butshehandedmehercocoaandsaid,“Ithinkyou needthismorethanme.”
“No,Idon’t.”ImopedasItookitandsipped.Itwassoverygood.
“I mean,” she said softly with so much laughter in her voice, “He is gorgeous.”
“No,he’snot,”FelixandIprotestedtogether.
“He’stoo…stalwart.He’slikeastatue.Youcan’tlikesomeonelikehim.”
“Idon’t,”Iagreed.“He’sadumbheadofstupid,manhandler,jerkness.”
“That’saverygrownupwayofsayingit,”Felixsaid.
“Shutup,”Icounteredwiththeprecisionofagradeschooler.
“Butwhatdowedoabouttheghost?”Chrysieaskedsoftly.Thelaughterwas gonefromhervoice,andshewassoverysadasshesaidit.
Gods.Monsters.Hecate’sfieryboobsandeyes.Whyme?
“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.IsoundedastiredasIfelt.
“CouldweaskSaffron?”ChrysieaskedmetentativelyasifIhadaclue.
IshruggedinreplyandlaydownwhereIwas.Istaredupattheceilingwhich had been painted here in the passage from the bedroom to the bathroom and dressingrooms.Yesrooms.But,theceilingovermybedwascoveredinfabric withthisbluestuffthatwentallthewaytoasortofroundborderinthemiddle
of the room, over my bed. Where the skylight was. My sister described it as a princesssuite.Isuspectedthatprincessesofpoorercountrieswouldhaveroom forjealousyiftheycouldseetheserooms.Theycontainedaprivatelibrary,an office, and a work room for spells. I also had several closets, a dressing room, andabathroomwithatubyoucouldswimin.
Martha, my house, kept the water in the tub hot and perfumed. The shower wasbigenoughforseveralpeopletoshowertogether.Notthatanyoneeverdid showerwithme.Therewasthisbenchintheshowerthatyoucouldsitonifyou weretootiredtostandandshower,Iguessed.
What was so stupid about this house was that I had just found a doorway at thebackofthebathroomthatwasbuiltintothewall.Itleadintoaprivatesteam room. I mean…one, a private steam room. That was a huge jaw-dropper. And two, I hadn’t even realized it was there for months!. That’s how luxurious the roomswere.Ihadbeen,admittedly,stupidstressedout.Infact,theonlyreasonI think I found it was that Martha showed it to me.My house was layered in so many spells and so much magic and awareness that it seemed the house had a personalityofitsown,thatiswhyInamedherMartha..
Ihadn’tevenshowedChrysieorFelix.Itwasjusttoomuch.Imean,Martha had an orangery with a garden that pretty much maintained and grew itself.
There was a constant bowl of fresh things from our gardens. In fact, if I was right,Marthahadstartedgrowingafreakingavocadotreebackthere.Anditwas comingalong…waytooquickly.
We’djustfoundapoolinthebasementlastweek.Itwasthisbig-shapedthing with roman facades along the sides that made it feel and look like it had been pulled from some roman villa. The tiling along the bottom of the pool had patternsandwasgorgeous.Therewasevenstatuary.Butitalsohadaslideanda diving board that seemed to just work with it even though it was from another era.
WhatIamtryingtosayisthatMartha—myhouse—thehouseoftheHallow
heir, that had been closed for years, was ridiculous. I had known from the outsidethatitwasamansion.Ihadexpectedittobeareallybigplacewherelots ofpeoplecouldlive.Ithadcloseditselfdownaftermymotherleft,orshehad closedit.Whoknewwithmymother?ButMarthahadopenedformewhenI’d
knocked.Andshewasn’tjustbig.Shehadsurroundedmeinluxurysoridiculous Ididn’tevenknowhowtohandleitbesideskindofignoringit.
“Whatifwedid?”Felixasked.“JustaskedSaffronwhattodo?”
“Ithink…”Ididn’tknowwhytheywereaskingme.Iwasn’ttheleader.Iwas oneofatriooffriends.Iwasn’takeeper.Ididn’thavesuperpowers.Wewere, allofus,supernaturals.Andyettheywereexpectingmetotakethelead.Orsoit
itfelt.
“Idon’tknowwhattodo.Orwhotocall.Idon’tknowwhototrust.”
CHAPTERFOUR
“Shouldwecallyourmom?”Chrysieasked.We’dmovedtothekitchenand
weremakingcookies.Chrysie,thankfully,knewhowtodothatsinceFelixandI werehopelessatbaking.Butwecouldanddideatthecookiedoughandscoop someontothetrays.
“Idon’ttrusther,”Isaidsoftly.
The room was quiet in the way that was heavy and weighty and too-meaningful.AndthenFelixswallowedandsaid,“WhataboutDr.Hallow?”
“Idon’ttrusthim,”Isaid.
“And,”ChrysieaddedasshechangedthetraysintheovensfortheonesFelix and I had filled with dough. “If he knows what to do or how to answer the question…thenIdon’ttrusthimeither.”
Felix made a face. And then said for our benefit, “I don’t think Monica or Finncouldhelp.They’renecromancers.”
“There’s the obvious choice upstairs, taking a shower,” Chrysie said as she startedtoeatatoo-hotcookie.Icouldn’tanswersinceIwastryingtobreathair tocoolthemouthfulofcookieI’dalreadyeaten.
“What about your coven leader?” Felix suggested as he waved his cookie aroundtocoolit.Hehadmadethebetterofthecookie-eatingchoices.
Ishrugged,setmyphoneonthecounter,pushedHazel’sname,andthenputit onspeaker.WetoldHazeltogetherwhywewerecallingandwhathappened.
“And?”Hazelaskedaswefinished.
WelookedateachotherandthenIsaid,“Wedon’tknowwhattodo.”
“Why are you assuming you have to do anything?” Her voice was toneless andgavenoneofherthough
tsaway.
“Becauseit’swrong,”Chrysiesaid.
Felixadded,“Becausewecan’tdonothing.”
“Because…”Ifinishedlamely.
“Becauseyoucan’tletitgo?”
“Yes,”weansweredtogether.
“Hmmm,”Hazelsaidbeforeadded,“Youdonotdisappointme,RueHallow.”
Itwarmedmemorethancouldsaytohearthatfromher.
“Acovenleader,”shesaid,“musttakecareofnotjusthercoven.Butofthe magic that happens where they practice. Covens who ignore dark magic, or taking advantage of normal humans, or unethical use of magic are weakened.
Whencovenscarefortheirterritoryandtheirpeople,bothwitchandhumanare empoweredbytheenergyofthosetheyserve.Doyouunderstand?”
“No,”Chrysiesaidwithoutshame.
“ThepoweroftheSageIslandCovencomesfromwhere,Rue?”
IthoughtaboutitbeforeIanswered,“FromSageIsland.”
“AndifSageIslanddidnottrustitswitches?Orifitweredesolate?”
My head tilted as I thought back to the coven rituals we did. The times that we’d cleansed the island. Or the time that Hazel had two of our own witches helpfindamurdererandremovethetaintofthatshedblood.
“Wewouldn’tbeaspowerful.”
“Exactly.”
“We’re not a coven,” I said. “This isn’t our territory. And there are lots of covenshere.”
“Truethattherearelotsofcovensthere.Andyou’dhavetocoexistwiththose covens.ButIsuggestthatthethreeofyouexamineeachotheranddecideifyou areacoven.Becauseyousoundlikeonetome.”
Welookedateachotherandbackatthephone.
“We still don’t know what to do about the dark magic,” I said, setting aside theideaofthethreeofusasacoven.
“Saffronknows?”Hazel’svoicewasbusinessagain.Inoticedthechangeand realizedshe’dbeeninteachingmodeaminuteago.
“Yes,”Isaid.
“ThenSaffronwilltakecareofthedarkwitch.”
*
“Idon’tlikeit,”FelixsaidaswemadeourwaytoJessie.