Moon Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  I run my hand over my face as I walk into my room and close the door behind me. It’s not until I’ve perched on my bed that I realize I’m not alone. Kai stands against the wall, one foot pressed against it, looking like he’s waiting for something. My mouth drops open wide, but the scream building inside me never reaches the air. I clutch at my throat, trying to figure out why my voice box isn’t working.

  Kai tilts his head, his unruly hair sweeping across one of his eyes. “What? You thought your dad just happened to choke tonight?”

  I stop trying to scream. Of course I thought my dad choking was a simple accident. It never crossed my mind to consider another option. When I try to speak again, I’m pleased to find my voice works. “That was you?”

  “Of course.” His voice is low, gravelly, like he’s not accustomed to using it. “I told Brody he should let me kill your dad, but he disagreed. Unlike Brody, I don’t have as much confidence that you’re taking us seriously. We’ve given you plenty time.”

  I fight to keep my panic in check. This man almost killed my father tonight. While part of me wants to run at him, to hit him, to make him hurt, I’m afraid any such action would cause more harm than good. As I realized just moments ago, I’m useless. I can’t protect my family—not like this. “I’ve been doing everything I can to get that information—you have to believe me.”

  “No, I don’t. I think you and your friends don’t intend to give us that information at all, and that you’re stalling for time.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not it…”

  Kai silences me with a jerk of his chin. “In any event, even Brody’s getting impatient. He’s giving you five days. Believe me, this is more than he gives most people. The only reason I can think that he’s being so kind is since you’re related to Bess. But even Brody’s got limits. Unless you give him what we want, I’ll be back and there’ll be nothing anyone can do to stop what I unleash against your family.”

  My mind struggles for something to say in response but comes up completely blank. Kai watches me for another moment before pushing himself off the wall and striding to the door. Panic floods me. Is he going to go do something to my parents right now? If not, how will I explain the appearance of this stranger in my room? But before he crosses the threshold, Kai waves a hand in front of his body and the air around him begins to shimmer. A split second later, he disappears from sight entirely. My bedroom door closes, seemingly of its own volition, and it’s only then I find I can breathe.

  Five days. That’s not much time. We can’t keep doing things by trial and error. We have to figure out how to get this information, no matter what it takes. I can’t let Brody or Kai or anyone else hurt my family.

  I stand on shaky legs and cross to my desk, where I open the drawer I’ve been keeping my research in. The folder Sasha gave me is thick with pages of copies I haven’t looked through in full yet. If I’m honest, I never intended to look through them at all. How can I trust anything coming from Sasha?

  I take the folder back to my bed and start spreading things out in piles. My fingers hesitate as they brush against the paper. If what she said is true, this spell will get my abilities back. Does she have any reason to lie? While I don’t clearly remember the horrible things she did in town before Seth died, the stories have been recounted to me enough times that I feel like I do. I don’t know if I want to accept help from someone who could torture her own sister.

  But that sister seems to have forgiven her. The last time Dana and I were at the shop, I overheard Jodi talking with Anya about how she and Sasha have been spending time together for the last few weeks. Does that mean Sasha’s turned over a new leaf?

  I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. I want to do it. I want to forget the source and convince Krissa to work this spell for me. But things that seem to be too good to be true often are, and this certainly falls into that category.

  There has to be another way to get my magic back. And if there’s not… I guess this Influence thing can be a matter of last resort. If it comes down to it, I’ll trust Sasha if it means I can keep my family safe.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Krissa

  My fingers tremble with anticipation as I mix together the herbs Anya scrawled out on the back of an envelope. The solution was so simple I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me sooner. If Crystal needs magic in order to cast a spell, I can give her mine—the same way the circle passed its abilities to my dad the night Seth died.

  Well, not exactly. I went to Anya’s for information on the finer points of casting the vessel spell, but she quickly shot down that idea. My dad spent five years learning how to take in and hold on to the abilities of others. She likened it to training for a marathon—he had to build up a bit at a time to be able to control that much power since he didn’t have any inside him to begin with. The vessel spell isn’t like when the witches drew power from Seth’s crystal or when the circle was bound and we could borrow energy from each other. In both cases, those involved had abilities to begin with—something that is apparently key in being able to use more. Even though Crystal used to have magic, the fact that she doesn’t anymore means flooding her system with something like the vessel spell would overwhelm her. Instead, Anya suggested a transference spell. Instead of taking on the combined powers of a group of people, Crystal will borrow the abilities of a single person.

  Me.

  The downside is I can’t choose to give away just my magic. During the spell, my psychic abilities will be drawn out, too, but I can direct them to Dana so she can help with contacting Bess.

  “We should be ready in just a minute. Then you guys should have what you need to cast the spell,” I say, sprinkling the last element into the clay bowl Crystal found among her aunt’s belongings after she died.

  “But it’s not permanent,” Dana says from her spot on the coffee table opposite me. I convinced Griffin to let us meet at his apartment again. He agreed and even offered to be the third person the spell calls for, since I’ll be unable to assist. He didn’t even ask what we were trying to accomplish. I get the feeling he misses being a part of the circle and is looking for an excuse to use magic for something other than everyday tasks.

  “No, it’s not,” I agree. The spell’s purpose is merely to allow someone without abilities the use of another person’s.

  Dana huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Then it’s not exactly what we need, is it?”

  “Could someone tell Drama Barbie to tone it down?” Griffin grumbles over the distinct snap and hiss of an aluminum can being opened. When he enters from the kitchen, he’s taking a long drink of beer, despite the fact he’s over a year too young to legally have it.

  Dana shifts, apparently uncomfortable at Griffin’s disapproval. “I’m just saying,” she murmurs.

  Griffin lifts his chin at Crystal. “So, I bet this is tons of fun, right? Hanging out with my little brother’s current and ex-girlfriends? Be honest now—how many catfights have you had to break up?”

  Without looking up from the incantation I’m reviewing, I flick my wrist and send Griffin’s bed pillow careening from his room until it smacks him on the side of the head. He chokes and sputters as the beer can he was drinking from slips from his hand, spilling amber liquid down his clothes as it falls to the ground.

  “Dammit, K!” he snaps. “Learn to take a joke.”

  “Learn to not be a dick,” I counter easily. I probably shouldn’t be so mean—he is doing us a favor, after all. But he makes himself a target so easily and so often that sometimes I can’t help myself. “Here,” I offer, finally glancing up. I take in the damage wrought when the can fell and focus on the liquid spotting his clothes and pooling on the floor. After a beat to concentrate and another wrist flick, I use my abilities to gather all the beer into an undulating orb level with Griffin’s navel. “Want me to put it back in the can?”

  He snorts, but his expression is a mix between gratitude for not having to go find a clean outfit to c
hange into and awe at the ease with which I’ve solved his problem. “I’ll just get another.” He pivots and strides back into the kitchen. I send the glob of liquid after him, directing it to the sink.

  Dana’s mouth hangs open. “How did you…?”

  “It’s a psychic thing. Telekinesis.” I catch her eye and hold her gaze for a beat. “I’ll teach you how to do it when we get your abilities back.”

  Any fight that remained in Dana’s eyes evaporates and I force the tiniest of smiles. This can’t be easy for her—just sitting around while I try again and again to help Crystal get whatever information the Amaranthine are looking for. There’s really nothing she can do to help, so I can only assume her presence is out of loyalty to Crystal, out of friendship. I know she wants her abilities back, and the fact is that’s not my main focus at the moment. It’s possible she doesn’t trust I’ll do what I said I would. Not that I can blame her: I don’t really have the best track record for truth-telling in this reality.

  I turn my attention to Crystal, who has been unusually subdued during this whole exchange. “You ready to give this a try?”

  She nods, but her movements are stiff, almost mechanical. It’s only with great effort she turns to meet my eye. There’s something veiled in her expression, like she’s hiding something from me. I’d ask, but I know her well enough to be sure she won’t tell me something unless she really wants to. Maybe there’s a reason she’s holding back—like Griffin’s presence. And if he catches wind that she’s keeping a secret, I’m fairly certain he’ll harass her until she either tells or got so mad she leaves.

  Griffin cracks open another can as he reenters the room. “You ready for me?”

  I nod and he moves to the coffee table to help Dana pull it away from the couch. He has his faults and is a jerk more often than not, but there’s a reason I’ve stuck around him these last few months. Despite his flaws, he does possess a good heart—even if it’s difficult to find most of the time.

  I slide off the couch onto the floor and sit cross-legged there. When I nod, Crystal, Dana, and Griffin join me.

  I take in a breath, ready to start, when Crystal rests her hand on my forearm. “Do you really think this’ll work?” she asks, her voice small.

  I want to tell her it will, to give her a guarantee, but I know I can’t. This isn’t the first time I’ve been certain that something would get us the result we need. “I think there’s a good chance,” I say finally.

  She gives a solemn nod before breaking eye contact. I take this as my cue to begin the spell. After reciting the first part of the incantation, I light the bowl full of herbs on fire. They burn up with a bigger puff of smoke than I anticipated, and I hope we don’t set off an alarm.

  As the pungent cloud rises from the clay bowl and snakes into my nose, a bubble of warmth brews in the pit of my stomach. With each breath in and out, it grows, pushing outward until it fills my entire body. The sensation is uncomfortable, but not unpleasant.

  Until I begin the next part of the incantation.

  As I form each word, the heat inside begins to boil, rolling outward and popping against the cage of my flesh. My voice is high and tight in my ears, but I don’t stop. It’s not as if I haven’t experienced pain before, and this isn’t quite as bad as when Sasha tortured me.

  Yet.

  My vision begins to swim, but it doesn’t blur things enough for me to miss the concerned looks painting the faces before me. I press on, straining to get each word out as the boiling sensation gives way to the feeling of razor blades against my skin. With each phantom cut, a measure of power leaves me. The fact that the spell is working is the only thing that keeps me going. I can take this punishment—I should take it. I can’t experience the acute stab of guilt for ending Seth’s existence, but I can feel this. And better than simply absolving me from my lack of remorse, this agony will actually do some good—it will save Crystal and her family from the wrath of the Amaranthine.

  When I’m sure I can’t take any more pain or I’ll black out, I do—or at least it feels as if I do. My vision goes dark and what little noise reaches me sounds as if it’s coming through water. The only reason I know I haven’t passed out is because my mind is still spinning and I’m aware of the position of my body in space. I’m still sitting propped against the couch. The quiet, garbled sounds of voices provide a kind of white noise that I sink into as I take stock of myself. I’ve felt like this before—empty, incomplete—most recently the night my dad enacted the vessel spell and siphoned away my abilities to use against Seth. Is this how Crystal feels all the time? No wonder she’s been working so hard to find a way to get her magic back.

  I wish I could monitor the progress of the spell she, Dana, and Griffin are working. I didn’t realize donating my abilities would cut me off from my senses. I anticipated being able to guide them if they needed it.

  Pressure builds against me like a stiff wind. It’s not until hot slices tear up my arm that I realize what’s happening: My abilities are returning. My instinct is to push back—there’s no way they’ve contacted Bess and gotten the information yet. But no matter how much I focus on keeping the power outside of my body, it rushes inward through the invisible cuts in my skin like water being sucked down a drain. The accompanying heat is so intense I’m sure my flesh and muscles are melting like hot plastic.

  I’m not sure how much time elapses before I’m aware of hands gripping my shoulders, of voices calling my name. I have to blink a few times before anything comes into focus.

  Crystal’s face hovers in front of mine. I assume the two blotches of color behind her are Dana and Griffin. “Are you with us? What happened?”

  “I…” My throat is too dry to continue. A cool glass is pressed into my hand and I gulp some water before continuing. “I don’t know. I didn’t do anything—my abilities just came rushing back in.”

  Crystal curses but offers an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, it’s just—we were close. We found Bess, but I didn’t get a chance to actually connect.” She presses her lips together like she’s debating her next words. “Could we… Do you think we could try again?”

  Griffin’s face comes into focus as he inches nearer. His expression is livid, his eyes fixed on Crystal. “Are you joking? There’s no way she can do that again.”

  “He’s right,” I agree before Crystal can retort. “I think the earliest I could possibly try is tomorrow. It’s just… I don’t think I could do a simple spell right now. I’m wiped.”

  Crystal runs both hands over her hair, blowing out a breath. “And if it doesn’t work tomorrow? What then? We try again the next day? No.”

  Dana places a small hand on Crystal’s shoulder. “If it doesn’t work tomorrow, we’ll try something else. Something has to work. It just might take some time.”

  “That’s what I don’t have.” Crystal fixes her stone-blue eyes on me. “Four days. That’s all I’ve got left before…” Her face screws up and she blinks rapidly. “They’re going to hurt my family.”

  Griffin’s expression hardens. “The hell are you mixed up in?” His tone is sharp, but it’s clear he’s not mad at her. His eyes dart the way they always do when he’s thinking quickly. “What about me? If Krissa can’t do the spell again today, let me try it. You can borrow my magic and—”

  I shake my head. “It won’t work.” He shoots an irritated glare at being interrupted, but I ignore it. “No offense, but I think we both know I’m the stronger witch. If I couldn’t handle this spell, you don’t stand a chance. We’re just going to have to find another way—and fast.”

  ***

  Griffin flat out refuses to let me drive home. Although I feel more like myself after the four of us talk about possible options to help Crystal contact Bess, he insists I let him take me back to my house and gets Dana to agree to follow behind in my car. I figure it’s no use fighting. Griffin can be remarkably stubborn when the mood strikes. I almost opt to ride with Dana, afraid Griffin will take the opportunity to r
ead me the riot act for not looping him in on everything happening with Crystal, but all he does is call me an idiot for not asking for help and leaves it at that.

  Jodi’s car is in the driveway and I’m thankful for small favors. Although I’ve grown pretty adept at mixing teas for most occasions, I’ll need something much more potent than usual if I stand any chance of doing research tonight. All I want to do is climb in bed and sleep for the next week, but I know I can’t.

  “Jodi?” I call as I push open the perpetually unlocked front door. “Put the kettle on. I’m going to need—”

  The sentence dies in my throat when I pass from the hallway into the living room. It’s not Jodi who sits on the couch, it’s Owen. He’s leaning forward, elbows on thighs, chin resting on laced fingers like I’ve interrupted him in deep thought. He straightens his back as he takes in my dumbfounded expression. “Jodi let me in.”

  I scan the room, half expecting her to pop out and yell “surprise.” It would make about as much sense as Owen’s presence at this point.

  “She’s not here,” he says as if reading my thoughts. My fingers flutter to the bracelet to make sure it’s still in place. “Miss Tanner came to pick her up. They’re meeting some friends for a movie. And your parents are at dinner.”

  My head nods of its own volition and I’m afraid it’ll float away like a helium balloon. Owen is here. In my house. What could he be doing here? Oh, no… Does he want to tell me about taking Laurie to prom—soften the blow in case I hear it at school and go nuts, shooting off spells rapid-fire like an insane scorned lover? Or is it something else?

  A half-smile turns the corner of his mouth, but it fades quickly. He pats the cushion beside him and waits until I’m crossing the room to continue. “Felix talked to me.”