by Cate Tiernan
That night I slept deeply, without dreams, and woke up feeling wonderful I put my hands together as if I could still see the sigil traced there: daeg. A new dawn. An awakening.
"Morgan?" Mary K. called from the hallway. "Come on. School."
I was already shoving my feet into my slippers. No doubt I was running late, as usual. I rushed through my shower, threw on some clothes, and pounded downstairs, my wet hair practically strangling me. In the kitchen I grabbed a breakfast bar, ready to dash out the door. Mary K. looked up calmly from her orange juice.
"No hurry," she said. "I got you up early for once. I've been late twice in the last month."
Mouth open, I looked at the clock. School didn't start for almost forty-five minutes! I sank into a chair and waved incoherently at the fridge.
Taking pity on me, my sister reached in and handed me a Diet Coke, I gulped it down, then stomped back upstairs to untangle my hair.
Somehow, we were late anyway. At school I parallel parked my car with practiced efficiency. Then I spotted Bakker coming toward the car to meet Mary K. My mood soured.
"Look, there he is," I said. "Lying in wait like a spider."
Mary K. punched my leg. "Stop it," she said. "I thought you liked him."
"He's okay," I said. I've got to chill, I thought. I'd be so peeved if anyone tried to pull the big-sister routine on me. But I couldn't help asking, "Does he know you're only fourteen?"
Mary K. rolled her eyes. "No, he thinks I'm a junior," she said sarcastically. "Don't let the cat out of the bag." She got out of the car. As she and Bakker kissed, I slammed my car door shut and hitched my backpack onto my shoulder. Then I headed toward the east door.
"Oh, Morgan, wait!" someone called. I turned and spotted Janice Yutoh, her hair bouncing as she hurried toward me. Whoops—I'd totally forgotten to return her call the night before.
"Sorry I spaced on calling you," I said as she caught up to me.
She waved a hand in the air. "No biggie. I just wanted to say hi," she said, panting slightly. "I haven't seen you at all lately, except in class."
"I know," I said apologetically. "A lot of stuff's been going on." This was such a lame representation of the truth that I almost laughed. "My aunt Eileen is moving in with her girlfriend," I said, thinking of one bright spot.
"That's great! Tell her I'm happy for her," said Janice.
"Will do," I said. "What'd you get on Fishman's essay test?"
"I somehow pulled an A out of my hat," she said as we walked toward the main building.
"Cool. I got a B-plus. I hate essay tests. Too many words," I complained. Janice laughed. Then we saw Tamara and Ben Reggio heading into the main door just as the bell rang.
"Gotta catch Ben," said Janice, moving off. "He's got my Latin notes."
"See you in class." I went in through the east door, where the coven had started to meet in the mornings, but the cement benches were empty. Cal must have gone inside already. My disappointment at not seeing him was almost equaled by my relief at not having to face Bree.
By lunchtime it was drizzling outside, with sullen rivulets tracing lines on the windows. I filed into the lunchroom, for once grateful for its warm, steamy atmosphere. By the time I collected a tray and looked around, most of the coven was sitting at a table closest to the windows. Raven and Bree weren't there, I saw with a lift of relief. Neither was Beth Nielson, I made my way over and sat down next to Cal. When he smiled, it was like the sun coming out.
"Hi," he said, making space for me on the table. "Did you get here late this morning?"
I nodded, opening my soda. "Just as the bell rang."
"Can I have a fry?" he asked, taking one without waiting for my answer. I felt a warm glow at his easy familiarity.
"Mom told me you dropped by last night," he said. "I'm sorry I missed you." He squeezed my knee under the table. "You okay?" he asked softly.
"Yeah, your mom was really nice. She showed me some rune magick," I said, dropping my voice.
"Cool," Jenna said, leaning over the table. "Like what?"
"A few different runes for different things," I said. "Like runes for happiness, starting over, peace and carton."
"Did they work?" asked Ethan.
"Yes!" I said, laughing. As if a spell by Selene Belltower wouldn't work. "It would be great if we could start learning about runes, everything about them."
Cal nodded. "Runes are really powerful," he said. "They've been used for thousands of years. I have some books on them if you want to borrow them."
"I'd like to read them, too," said Sharon, stirring her straw around in her milk carton.
"Here's a rune for you guys," said Cal. He cleared a space in the center of the table and traced an image with his finger. It looked like two parallel lines with two other lines crossed between them, joining them. He drew it several times until we could all picture it.
"What does that mean?" asked Matt.
"Basically it means interdependence," Cal explained. "Community. Feeling goodwill toward your kinsmen and kinswomen. It's how we all feel about each other, our circle. Cirrus."
We all looked at each other for a minute, letting this sink in. "God, there's so much to learn," said Sharon. "I feel like I'll never be able to put it all together—herbs, spells, runes, potions."
"Can I talk to you?" Beth Nielson had walked up and now stood in front of Cal, a multicolored crocheted cap covering her short hair.
"Sure," said Cal. He looked more closely at her. She was frowning. "Do you want to go somewhere private?"
"No." Beth shook her head, not looking at him. "It doesn't matter. They can hear it."
"What's wrong, Beth?" Cal asked quietly. Somehow we all heard him, even over the din of the lunchroom.
Beth shrugged and looked away. Glittery aqua eye shadow glowed above her eyes and contrasted sharply with her coffee-colored skin. She sniffed, as if she had a cold.
Across the table I looked at Jenna. She raised her eyebrows at me.
"It's just—the whole thing doesn't feel right to me," Beth said. "I thought it would be cool, you know? But its all too weird. Doing circles. Morgan making flowers bloom," she said, gesturing to me. "It's too strange." She raised her shoulders beneath her brown leather jacket and let them tall. "I don't want anything more to do with it. I don't like it. It feels wrong." Her nose ring twinkled under the fluorescent lights.
"That's too bad," said Cal. "Wicca isn't intended to make anyone uncomfortable. It's meant to make you celebrate the beauty and power of the earth."
Beth gave him a blank look, as if to say, Come on.
"So you want to quit the coven. Are you sure about this?" Cal asked. "Maybe you just need more time to get used to it."
Beth shook her head. "No. I don't want to do it anymore."
"Well, if Wicca isn't for you, then that's your choice. Thanks for being honest," Cal said.
"Uh-huh," said Beth, shifting her weight from one Doc Marten to the other.
"Beth, one thing," Cal said. "Please respect our privacy." There was a serious note in his voice that made Beth look up.
"You've come to our circles; you've felt magick's power," Cal went on. "Keep those experiences to yourself, okay? They're no one's business but ours."
"Yeah, okay," Beth said, looking at Cal.
"Well," Cal said. "It's your decision to go. But just remember that the circle won't be open to you again if you change your mind. Sorry, but that's how it works."
"I'm not changing my mind," said Beth. She moved off without looking back.
For a few moments we all looked around at each other.
"What was that about?" I asked.
Jenna coughed. "Yeah, that was pretty weird."
"Don't know," said Cal. A shadow crossed his face. Then he seemed to shrug it off. "But like I said, Wicca isn't for everyone." He leaned forward. "I thought at our next circle. I could show you guys some more runes and maybe a small spell."
"All right," Ethan said. "Cool." He leane
d across to Sharon. "Are you gonna eat that brownie?"
She made a pained face, but I could tell she was kidding. "Yes."
"Halfies?" he asked. Ethan, former pothead, now merely scruffy underdog, grinned coyly at Sharon. It was like watching a street mongrel trying to flirt with a well-groomed poodle.
"I'll give you a tiny bite," Sharon said, breaking off a piece. Her cheeks were slightly pink.
Ethan grinned more broadly and popped the brownie morsel into his mouth.
Around us hundreds of students filed to and from tables, eating, talking to each other, busing their trays. We a small, private microcosm of the school. To me it felt like we were the only ones talking about things that really mattered—things that were far more important and interesting than the latest pep squad rally or prom theme contest. I couldn't wait to be finished with high school, to move on with the rest of my life. I saw myself devoted to Wicca, still with Cal, living a life full of meaning and joy and magick.
Robbie's elbow knocking into me jolted me out of my daydream.
"Sorry," he said, rubbing his temples. "Do you have any Tylenol?"
"Nope, sorry. Your doctor's appointment is today, right?" I asked him, then took a bite of hamburger.
"Yeah."
"Here, take this." Jenna rummaged in her purse and took out two tablets.
Robbie squinted at them, then tossed them down with the rest of his soda. "What was that?"
"Cyanide," said Sharon, and we laughed.
"Actually, it was Midol," Jenna said, turning away to give another cough. I wondered if she was getting sick.
Matt whooped with laughter as Robbie gaped at her in dismay.
"It'll really help," Jenna insisted. "It's what I take for my headaches."
"Oh, man." Robbie shook his head. I was almost doubled over with laughter.
"Look at it this way," said Cal brightly. "You won't get that awful bloated feeling."
"You'll feel pretty all day," suggested Matt, laughing so hard, he had to wipe his eyes.
"Oh, man," said Robbie again as we cackled.
"Well, this is nice," came Raven's snide voice. "Everyone all happy and laughing together. Cozy, huh, Bree?"
"Very cozy," said Bree.
I stopped laughing and looked up at them, standing by our lunch table. People streamed by in back of them, making Bree edge closer to me. I still felt profoundly relaxed, thanks to Selene, and as I gazed at my former best friend, I couldn't help missing her powerfully. She was so familiar to me—I had known her before she was beautiful, when she was just a pretty little girl. She'd never gone through an awful awkward stage, like most kids, but when she was twelve, she'd had braces and a bad haircut. I had known her before she liked boys, while her mother and brother still lived at home. So much had changed.
"Hi, Raven, Bree," Cal said, still smiling. "Grab some chairs—we'll make room."
Raven took out one of her foul-smelling Gauloises and tapped it against her wrist. "No, thanks. Did Beth tell you she was ditching the coven?" she asked, her voice seeming harsh and unfriendly. I glanced at Bree, who was keeping her eyes on Raven.
"Yes, she did," Cal replied, shrugging. "Why?"
Raven and Bree looked at each other. A month ago, Bree and I were making fun of Raven together. Now they acted like best friends. I tried hard to hold on to my feelings of calm and peace.
Bree gave Raven a tiny nod, and Raven's lips thinned in what could pass for a smile.
"We're leaving, too," she announced. I know my surprise showed on my face, and when I quickly surveyed the table, there was no mistaking that it was shared. Next to me Cal was suddenly alert, frowning as he looked at them.
"No," said Robbie. "Come on."
"Why?" Jenna asked. "I thought you were both so into it."
"We are into it," Raven said pointedly. "We're just not into you." She tapped her cigarette harder, and I could practically feel how much she wanted to light it up.
"We've joined a different coven," Bret announced. The expression on her face made me think of a kid I had baby-sat once. He had once thrown a live lizard onto the dining-room table, during a meal, just to see what would happen.
"A different coven!" exclaimed Sharon. She twitched her short suede skirt down, bracelets jangling. "What different coven?"
"A different one," said Raven in a bored tone. She raised one shoulder and let it drop.
"Bree, don't be stupid," said Robbie, and his words seemed to hurt her.
"We've started our own group," Bree told Robbie, and Raven glanced at her sharply. I wondered if Bree had been supposed to keep that secret.
"Started your own?" Cal said, rubbing his chin. "What is wrong with Cirrus?"
"To tell you the truth, Cal," Bree said coldly, "I don't want to be in a coven with backstabbers and betrayers. I need to be able to trust the people I do magick with."
This was aimed at me, and possibly at Cal, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
Cal raised his eyebrows. "Yes, trust is really important," he said slowly. "I agree with you there. Are you sure you can trust the people in your new coven?"
"Yes," said Raven, a bit too loudly. "It's not like you're the only witch in town, you know."
"No, no, I'm not," Cal agreed. I heard a hint of annoyance in his voice. He put his arm around my shoulders. "For example, there's Morgan here. Does your new coven have any blood witches?"
All eyes turned to me.
"Blood witch?" asked Bree, derision in her voice.
"You said that on Samhain," remembered Raven. "You were just yanking our chains."
"I wasn't," Cal said. I swallowed and looked down, hoping this conversation would stop before people followed it to its logical conclusion.
"If she's a blood witch," Bree all but snarled, "then so are her parents, right? Isn't that what you told us? I mean, am I supposed to believe that Sean and Mary Grace Rowlands are blood witches?"
Cal went silent, as if he just at that moment realized what this could lead to. "Whatever," he said, and I leaned against him, knowing he was trying to protect me.
"Anyway," said Cal. "Let's not get off the subject. So you really want out of the coven?"
"Out and about, baby," said Raven, putting her unlit cigarette in her mouth.
"Bree, think about what you're doing," Robbie urged her, and I was glad he was trying to talk her out of it since I couldn't.
"I have thought," said Bree. "I want out."
"Well, be careful," said Cal, standing up. I stood up, too, grabbing my purse and my lunch tray. "Remember, most witches are good, but not all of them. Make sure you haven't left the frying pan for the fire."
Raven gave a short bark of a laugh. "How pithy. Thanks for the advice."
Cal gave them a last considering look, then nodded at me. We walked away from the group. I dumped my tray at the bus bin, and we left the lunchroom, heading for the main building.
Cal walked with me to my locker. I spun the combination and opened the door while he waited.
"If they make a new coven, will it affect us somehow?" I asked, my voice low.
Cal brushed back his dark hair and shrugged. "I don't think so," he said. "It's just…" He pinched his lip with two fingers, thinking.
"What?"
"Well, I wonder who they're working with," he said. "They're obviously not doing this by themselves. I hope they're being careful. Not every witch is… benign."
I felt tension weave its way into my short-held peace and looked at Cal. He kissed me, warmth in his golden eyes.
"See you later." A flashing grin, and he was gone.
CHAPTER 11
Connected
January 3, 1982
Old Jowson lost three sheep last night. This is after all the ward-evil spells we've been doing for the past month. Now most of his flock if gone, and he's not the only one. He said today in the Eagle and Hare that he's wiped out—doesn't have enough ewes left to start over. There's nothing for him to do except sell out.
I
feel like all I do is go around doing warding spells. We're all paranoid and living under a dark shadow. For the past week I've been spelling Ma's leg after she broke it, bicycling to the village. But even with my spells she says it's hurting and not healing properly.
I want to get out of here. Being a witch is doing no one good nowadays and is doing a bushel of harm. It's like a film is over us, lessening our powers. I don't know what to do. Angus doesn't, either. He's worried, too, but he tries not to show it.
Damnation! I thought the evil was behind us! Now it looks like it was only sleeping amond us, in our beds. Winter has awoken it.
— Bradhadair
On Wednesday morning, when I was toasting two Pop Tarts for breakfast, I heard footsteps overhead.
"Mary K.!" I said. "Who's upstairs?"
Mary K. blinked. "Mom," she said, turning back to the comics. "She's staying home sick today."
I looked at the top of my sister's head. Mom never stayed home from work. She had been known to show houses in a snowstorm when she had the flu.
"What's wrong with her?" I asked. "She was fine last night, wasn't she?" She and my dad had had dinner out alone, something they almost never did. I had figured they were avoiding me, and I had waited up for them, but at eleven-thirty I had given up and gone to bed.
"I don't know. Maybe she just wanted a day off."
"Huh." Maybe this was my chance: I could go upstairs right now and get her to answer all my questions.
On the other hand, I would be late for school. And Cal was at school. Besides, if she wanted to tell me anything, she'd have told me by now. Right?
I sighed. Or maybe the truth was, now that the chance was staring me in the face, as it were, I was afraid to seize it. Scared of what I might learn.
My Pop-Tarts leaped energetically out of the toaster and broke on the kitchen counter. I gathered up the pieces in a paper towel and gave my sister a gentle kick.
"Let's go," I said. "Education awaits us." Mom would be home when I got out of school. I could talk to her then.
Mary K. nodded and got into her coat.
As it turned out, my big confrontation didn't work out the way I'd planned. When I got home from school, I'd worked myself up for a real scene. I went up to Mom's room, threw open the door… and found her sound asleep. Her red hair lay across her pillow, and once again I noticed the silver strands in it. Was it my imagination, or were there more of them than even a couple of days before?
