Lonely Graves
Page 4
“Thatisnotyourbusiness.”
“Youknowweweren’tfollowingyou.”
“Yes. Obviously. I am aware that Hazel told you to leave the dark witch to me.”
“Andthedarkwitchisyourrelative?”
Saffronglancedintherearviewmirroratusandthenforwardagain.
“Allofmyrelativesaredarkwitches,Rue.Iwaslookingforthisdarkwitch.”
“Whyjustthisone,”Ishotback.
“Darkwitchcraftisn’tnecessarilyevil.Notanymoreevilthaneatingmeat.”
Ididnotagree.
“Butdarkwitchesarefarmoreinclinedtocrossthelinetoevilthananyother lineofwitchcraft.”
IfiguredweshouldjustlumpthemalltogetherandcountthemaseviluntilI realized that most necromancers would be included in that stereotype by other witches.
“Ambriaisadarkwitch.Andsheisevil.But,Idon’tthinkshewasdoingthis spell.”
“Ourfindingspellledustoher,”Isaid,wantingtoseehowSaffronexplained
that.
“Andhowprecisewasyourfindingspell?”
Oh.Iwasn’tsure.Ihadn’tpaidmuchattentiontowhichoneJessiechose.
When I didn’t answer, Saffron snorted and then said, “There are more dark witchesthanpeoplerealize,Rue.Darkwitchcraftispowerfulgivenabigenough death.”
I clenched my teeth, hating what she was saying. Magic was beautiful. It wasn’t…HecatewasIanidiot?
“Areyousureyoujustdon’twantittobeAmbria?”
Saffronsmiledatmeinthemirror,asadsmilethatheldfarmoreemotionthan Iexpectedhertoeversharewithme.Andthenshesaid,“IwouldthrowAmbria intothecold,shutthedoorbehindherandlockitwithbothmagicandsteel.I can not stand her. But despite my feelings, what you describe takes a witch of power.Someonelikeyou.Orme.Ambriaismanythings,butinnatelypowerful isnotoneofthem.”
“Sowhocoulddothisspellthen?”
“AccordingtothePresidium,thereareonlyaboutadozenwitchesinthearea who could,” Saffron said as she pulled into the drive of Martha and turned off ouroldstationwagon.“You’reoneofthem.”
CHAPTERSIX
“Rue’sonalistkeptbythePresidium?”Felixwastheonewhoasked,sinceI wasspeechless.Andsick.Andhorrified.Andterrified.And…
SaffronlookedbetweenFelixandmeandshookherheadbeforesheturnedto mykitchenandstartedapotofcoffeewithmycoffee.Iwasabitterritorialat times.Thiswasoneofthosetimes.
“RueistheeldestoftheeldestoftheeldestoftheHallow.HerMother,Aunt, andGrandmotherweretheKeepersoftheSt.AngelusThinning.Shecanbrew
potions that most who have studied for decades can not make. She creates her ownversionsofpotionsandevenentirelynewones.Shewasraisedbyawoman whoisalmostasmorallychallengedasmyownmother.VerucaHallow-Jonesis onthetopofthePresidium’swatchlist.”
FelixshovedbackthechairhewassittinginandcrossedtoSaffron.
“Hey,” he said. When Saffron didn’t turn, he said it again and she slowly turnedtofacehim.“Rueisnotevil.”
“Iknow,”SaffronsaidsimplyandFelixdeflated.“IlikeRuedespitehowshe isafraidofme.IhavelikedhersinceIfirstmether.She’sagoodone.Butyou can’tjusttellthePresidiumtheydon’tneedtoworryaboutthisoneorthatone.”
I wanted to protest. But Saffron seemed to know when I was lying, even to myself,soIkeptmymouthshutandlistenedinstead.
“The Presidium is not infallible. But they are well-intentioned. And they don’talwayswatchwitchesbecausetheyareconcernedforwhattheymightdo.
Sometimestheywatchtohelpwithwhattheymightneed.”
“How do you know?” Felix asked. He didn’t sound convinced. And I didn’t blamehim.FromwhatI’veheard,thePresidiumisn’tthetypeofcharitycaring typeorganizationyou’redescribing.“CauseI’veneverheardthatbefore.”
“BecausethePresidiumhelpedmeescapemycovenandfindHazel’s.”
“Iambotheredbythis,”Isaid.“Iamsoverybotheredbythis.ThePresidium wassuperquicktodecideIwasshadyandguiltyofkillingChrysie.”
“Theywere.Theyaren’tyourfriendsRue.Buttheymighthelpyou.”
“Untiltheystabherinthebackormakeheranexampleorsomeothersuch
loadof…”
“Felix,”Isaidmostlybecausehisjumpingtomydefensewasremindingme
ofBranwhichwasstressingmeoutandallofthiswasmorethanIcouldhandle.
I needed. Gods, I needed to run. Run, run, run until I wasn’t feeling so very trapped.Acoolbreezewrappedaroundmyankles,andIfeltthewardsbuiltinto Marthashift.Shewasn’tbeingchallenged,shewastellingmethatshe’dprotect meandbethereforme.
Butshewasahouse.
Andmysisterwasn’tthere.Andmymothercouldn’tbetrustedandmydaddy
wasn’t a witch. And my biggest allies were Felix, a witch who hid his ability.
Chrysie,ababyvampire.Jessie,awitchwhohadmorebooksmartsthatskills.
And Cyrus, a human who wanted to learn witchcraft. I was the one who had beentrained.Iwastheonewiththearsenal.Theycouldn’thelpme.Andnoone elsewould.
Myphonerang.Speakofthedevil,therewasMother.
“Hello,”Isaid.
“Veruca.”
“Mother.”
Iwaitedforhertosaywhatshewanted.ShewaitedformetoaskherhowI couldhelp,soshecouldmanipulateit.TherewasalongsilencewithFelixand Saffronlookingon.
“HaveyouheardfromBranka?”
Myfingertracedoverthecounter,thebreezeswirledaroundmyankles,and myheartstuttered.
“No,”Isaid.
I did not ask if she was missing. Mother wouldn’t call if she had any other choice.
I heard a shuffle and then Daddy’s voice came through the speaker, “Rue, darling,don’tworry.”
“Shedoesn’tignoremethislong,Daddy.”
“I know baby, I know. But we’ll find her. She and your mother have been havingsome…conflicts.”
Gods,thetonetherehadbeenloadedwithmeaning.
“I’mafraidthatIdidn’t,”andhisvoicecracked.Myeyesburnedashestarted toweep.Whocouldstandthefeelandsoundoftheirfatherweeping?Especially mydaddy.Allgoodnessandblueberrypancakesandsingingintheshowerand red shoes when Mother would have only purchased black? “I didn’t…I didn’t helpasIcouldhave.”
“It’snotyourfault,Daddy,”Isaid,breakingalittleinside.“Branisarunner.”
“But,shealwayshad…”Hestoppedhimselfandsaid.“We’llfindher.Don’t
worry.YourMotherwillfixeverything.”
But he had been going to say she always had you to run with her. This was
morethanIcouldhandle.Whattodo?Whattodo?Iftherewasachancetofind herbygoingbacktotheisland,Iwouldgo.Iwouldleaveeverysinglethinghere ifIthoughtIcouldfindherthere.ButIwassureIcouldn’t.Myonecomfortwas thatwhenIfollowedmyheartstringstomysister,IcouldsayforsurethatBran wasok.
“Daddy,”Isaid.“Icanfeelher.Andshe’sokrightnow.”
“Oh baby. Thank goodness. Thank god. Thank…oh baby, thank you. The relationship between you and your sister…what a relief. Your mother…well…
shecan’ttell rightnow.Bran…Bran…Bran didsomething.I don’tknow what.
Yourmotherisworkingitout,butithasreallymadeithardforustofindher.”
Done something.
Bran you evil wench. I could hardly breathe, hardly think.
Whathadshedone?Iwantedtogasp.Torun.Tolaugh.I…
“You’llhavetotellVeruca,”Iheardmymotherinthebackgroundsay,“ThatI willbeunabletofinishmytaskuntilthisisworkedout.”
Welldamnit.Shecouldn’tbreakherbondwiththetalisman.Shehadn’tdone it for the last two months for one reason or the other. I had assumed it was becauseshewaswaitinguntilIwasmorecompliant,buthowtoexplainthatto CaptainFinnyandhisever-presenthatred?
“Don’tblameBran,mother.Twofullmoonshavepassedsinceyouagreedto
breakthebondandfreethetalisman.”
“Veruca,”Mothersnapped,butshewasn’tonthephoneanddespitehersilent demandforthereturnofthephone,Daddydidn’tturnitover.
“Baby,”Daddysaid.“IjustwantyoutoknowhowmuchIloveyou.Nothing
willeverchangethat.”
“IknowDaddy,”Isaid.
“It’simportantthatyouknow,Verucababy,Iloveyou.”
“Iloveyoutoo,”Isaid.“It’sgoingtobeok.”
ItwasapromiseIcouldn’tkeep.Andwebothknewit.Branwasgoingtodo what Bran did and the rest of us had about as much effect as an umbrella in a hurricane.
“I love you Daddy,” I said before he could hand the phone back to Mother, andthenIturnedmineoff.
I looked up, ignoring Saffron to meet Felix’s gaze. Behind him was Jessie, Chrysie, and Cyrus. Their eyes were wide, sympathetic and full of concern for me.Ididn’tknowwhattodowiththat.Withanyofit.
“Your sister is missing?” Felix’s voice broke through the shield I had been tryingtoform.
Inoddedonce.AndthenbecauseIcouldn’tdoanythingelse,Iran.
*
WhenIreachedtheHallowfamilygraves,Islumpedontomyfavoritegrave ofConstanceHallowandstaredupattheangel.IthadbotheredmesinceIhad firstseenit.Wewerewitches.Wedidn’treallybelieveinthetraditionalversion ofheavenandhell.Whyanangel?Whynotthesunandmoon?WhydidBran
notanswerherphone?Whyleavemehanginglikethis?FortheloveofHecate, whyanangel?
Bran hadn’t blocked my feeling after her. But Bran wasn’t answering her phone. Was she in danger? Should I make a follow spell and chase her down?
ShouldItrusther?ShouldItrustthatshecantakecareofherself?Icouldtake careofmyselfandyetIhadnearlydiedafewtimeslately.
Wasbeingabletotakecareofherselfenough?
“Are you ok?” Chrysie’s gaze was heavy on me and wide with so much feeling.Sympathyorwhatever.Itwasnothelping.
IlookeduptofindFelixandChrysiestandingontheedgeofthegraveyard.
Felix looked as if he might be puking again—the man needed to get out and movealotmore.Chrysielookedasifshewereapixieinflight.
AndIprobablylookedlikesomewoebegonewaif,lyingmelodramaticallyon
a grave of her kin, and moping about the troubled little sister who had, unsurprisingly,runaway.
Damnitalltothemany,manyhells.
Hellswerenotdeath.Hellswerelifewhereyouhadnocontroloveranything thathappenedtoyouandaconstantslewofstuffyouhadnoideahowtodeal withwhilebetorturedbythoseyouloved.Andpossiblydarkwitches.
Becausenothingisevereasy.Notever.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“Whatarewegoingtodo?”Chrysieasked.
We were, all of us, sitting in the room where we’d done the finding spell staringateachother.EveryonewastryingtoohardtoavoidtalkingaboutBran.I had my phone at my fingertips—just in case she might call. The truth was. I couldn’tthink.Iwasinnoshapetoleadthisbabycoven.
“Saffronsaidthatourfindingspellmighthaveonlyledustotheclosestdark witch,”Felixsaid,takingleadforme.Hecateblesshim.
I didn’t really listen as they discussed. I kept seeing visions of my sister.
Without really thinking, I dropped to my knees and began to draw a pentacle.
Withmusclememorymorethanthought,Idrewthestarwithmyspelledchalk and then made a perfect circle to finish the emblem. I didn’t notice that the others had stopped talking to watch as I worked. I didn’t discuss or speak. I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing, and as I delved my mind, I followed the holes inside of me and sought the runes to counter those. It was all very instinctiveandtherewereplacesforfiverunesateachofthepointsandonein thecenter.I startedwithunity, goingontoclarity, judgement,discernment,and focus.
Andthen,inthecenter,Iputtheoneforsearch.
Ididn’tthinkofthedarkwitch.Ididn’tcareaboutherorhimsomuchright now.WhatIcaredaboutwasBranka.Myfirstfriend,mygreatestally,mysister.
I placed myself into the lotus position. But after a moment of reflection, I changed my mind and leaned down to press my forehead into the rune on the floor,stainburnedupthebackofmylegsanddownmyspine.ButIdidn’tcare, I let my magic burn through me more than calling it to me. I had reached this place of—lack of thought and pure instinct. I was folded into the runes I had created, with my magic flowing as it willed, and listening to the blood rush throughmybody.Idon’tknowhowlongittook,butIreachedastatewhereallI couldheardwastheswish-swish,swish-swish,swish-swishofmyblood.
AsIreachedthatpoint,IletthelastfacetofacememoryofBrankaflowover me.Shehadtoldme,“Ifyoucomebackorregretthis,Iwillpunchyousohard thatyoufeelitinpreviouslives.”
Ismiledatthememoryandletitunfoldinmymindasstarkandclearasithad beenwhenithadhappened.Itwasasifitwerehappeningagain,itwassovivid.
But, this time I wasn’t just experiencing the moment. I was looking for a little thread. One that went from the memory to me. And then I examined it further andfurther,lettingitplayoverandoveragainuntilIfoundthetinythreadthat ledtoBran.Andbecauseshewasmysister,andwewerewitches,andwewere bonded by love and affection and power and the same flavor of magic, I followedittoher.
I stopped only hearing the swish-swish of my blood and the replay of the memory.Iheardthecreakofwoodandthesoundofwaves,andthecallofgulls.
ItwitchedasIrealizedshewasonthedeckofaboatorship.
“Bran,”Isaid,speakingtoherfrominsideofhermemories.
Andsheheardme.
“Rue,”shereplied,ontheship,thousandsofmilesaway.
“Are you alright?” I was just behind her, speaking into her ear, in our memories, but there was an overlay of a boat, where she stood wide-stanced, gazingoutatthesea.
“Yes,”shetoldthesea.Iknewher,soIknewshewasn’tlying.Iletherfeel myreliefandmyworry.Shedidn’tapologize.But,rightatthatmoment,itwas okwithmethatshedidn’t.Iwasgoingtopunchherhard,later.
“Daddyisblaminghimself.”
Iwasnotguiltingher.Shewouldwanttoknow.JustasIwouldhavewanted toknow.Heworriedhimselfoverher.Iwascertain,withoutactuallyknowing, thathe’dbeensleeplessfordaysoverher.
“TellhimI’mok.”Icouldfeelherguiltnow.Guilt,butnoregrets.Shedidn’t wanthimtosuffer,butshe’dhavedoneitagain.
“Iwill,”Ipromised.
And she faded away, ending the connection and hiding whatever she was doingfrommebeyondthatglimpseofthesea.Iwasgoingtopunchhersohard.
AshardasIcould,magicincluded.ButIwasn’tgoing
toletthismeditationand seeingstatefade.Notwhenlifewashardenoughtogivemeloadsofworries.As ifamissingsisterweren’tsufficient.So,Islidbacktowardsmyselfbutfocused onanothermemory.
A darker shape of darkness in the shadows. A plea for help. Screaming in pain. And because I had just done it, and because I was a witch, and because they wanted to be found, I followed the second thread from that memory to a body.
Notadeadbody.
Alivingbody.Inthedarkness.
“Hello,”Isaid.AndthenbecauseI’djustdoneit,andwasinthemode,andI waswitch—apowerfulwitchinmyplaceofpower,andthespiritwantedtobe
found, I connected. The spirit wanted to be saved so much they were reaching out, without knowing what they were doing, they were reaching, searching, pleadingwiththegodsandtheuniverseforhelp.
Andthewhimperingbegan.
How many times had this spirit thought they’d found help? Imagined it?
Dreamedit?Wishitsohard,itseemedrealandwasnot?Alot,Iguessed.Too manytocount.
“Whereareyou?”Iasked.
Therewasnoreply.
“Youaskedforhelp.”
“I…I…I…”
“Whereareyou?”
Thecryingbeganagain.Andnoanswerwasgiven.Itookalongdeepbreath
andthenmovedonecarefulstepawayfromthedarknessandthespiritandfound myselfinafieldIdidn’tknow.Iwasoutofmybodyandcouldn’tstaylong.SoI leaneddown,focusedmywill,andcreatedamemoryabovethedarkness.
*
TherewasthepersonIwantedtofind.Andtherewasthepersonwhoneeded
me to find them. I sat up, wobbled, and then let the magic go. Recovering my normal level of senses, I blinked several times to shake off the meditation and thespellandthentookadeepbreath.
“Weneedafindingspell,”ItoldJessie.“Let’sseeyourwholelist.”
“Butitdidn’tworklasttime,”shesaid,tossingherlongredponytailoverher shoulder. Her face seemed upset, and I guessed that she was frustrated with herself.Shewasgoodatknowingthings,butshehadn’tbeenrightlasttime.No timeforbewailing.Magicwasapractice,likebeingadoctororanartist.Noone gotitperfectallthetime.