I skim through page after page in my family’s grimoire, but none of the spells are even remotely similar to the one Crystal showed me. When I make it all the way to the end, I close the book and open the cover to the first page. I wonder if there’s an easier way to do this. There has to be. Magic seems to be able to speed up everything.
Jodi’s at work, so I can’t ask her if there’s a spell for what I want. It’s probably better that way—too many sticky questions. So far I’ve managed not to mention the Amaranthine to her, and I want to keep it that way.
Bridget has been having success writing spells—I know because she’s in the shop frequently looking for new elements to try out. If she can do it, maybe I can, too. I feel comfortable enough with my magic to attempt a spell even if I don’t know that one exists. I close my eyes and take in a breath, still absently stroking the smoky quartz set in my ring. I call up the word Influence in my mind’s eye and hold it there. I need my abilities to guide me to the mention of that word in this book. I need to know whatever information there is about that spell.
I stretch out my right hand and hold it, palm down, over the book. “Show me Influence,” I whisper.
For a beat, nothing happens. Then a soft rustling sounds, like dry leaves skittering across the sidewalk in an autumn breeze. When the soft swish of pages dies down, I open my eyes. The book is open to a page about a third of the way through. I can’t hold back my surprise as I lean over the yellowing pages. I can’t believe it worked. I skim the fading spidery handwriting gracing the page. It’s not a spell—it’s more of a diary entry. I read it three times just to be sure I haven’t missed anything. The lines are a recounting of a man named Solomon Brown. According to the author, Solomon used his Influence to persuade a lady in the town to become his wife. Later, he used that same Influence to become mayor. The events do not appear to have taken place in Clearwater, and the retelling gives the impression that this story is more morality tale than history.
I’m disappointed. I was hoping for something more specific. I don’t even know that the reference here is to the same Influence spell Crystal wants me to perform. One thing I’ve noticed from reading through this grimoire is that people tended to capitalize words that wouldn’t be capitalized today. Perhaps the person here is referring to some actual kind of influence—or maybe even a psychic ability to persuade someone.
I wish there was a way I could get more insight into what the author was thinking. If I could feel the author’s emotions, maybe I could get a sense whether this Influence he spoke of was something simple or something more sinister.
The bracelet on my wrist draws my attention. If I want to feel what the author felt, it might be possible to pick up on an echo if I’m able to focus intensely enough on the writing.
I’ve taken this charm off before and nothing bad has happened—besides the first time when I opened myself up too fully and too many spirits tried to get one last message to loved ones from beyond the grave. Maybe I could try taking the bracelet off now. The house is empty, which limits the amount of interference I might experience.
My fingers tremble against the knot. I don’t know why the simple act of removing this piece of jewelry makes me so anxious. I stuff down my nerves and tug the knot loose. When the charm drops to the desk, I brush my fingers over the fading ink of the entry. It’s possible some remnants of the thoughts or feelings of the author are still present. I close my eyes and clear my mind. After several seconds, nothing happens. I take stock of my energy and realize the mental wall I used to keep Owen and Fox out of my mind when we were bound is firmly built up in my head. Of course I can’t sense anything. I need to drop it if I want to get any read on this page, but doing that is easier said than done. The fear that kept me locked behind this wall for four months swells to a crescendo. What if I drop my defenses and all the things I’ve been working so hard to keep out rush in? Then again, there’s no one around right now. I’m not bound to anyone, so I shouldn’t feel emotions or hear thoughts from people far away. With my lack of practice these last months, my range is probably shot anyway.
If I want to learn any information locked away in this page, I need to get over myself.
I take in a deep breath and hold it for a beat before blowing it out, lowering the shield around my consciousness as I do so. After another second, I open my eyes. The world hasn’t ended. There’s no flood of thoughts or feelings assaulting me. I can do this.
I touch my fingers to the grimoire again and focus on whoever wrote these words. As a psychic, time doesn’t restrict me the way it does other people. As I trace my fingers over the curling letters of the words, I allow myself to be taken back to the time when this was written.
The first pinprick of emotion is such a tiny blip that I almost miss it. There’s a tiny thrill of wariness, followed by a larger wave of vigilance. My eyebrows draw together. I’m not entirely sure what to make of either of these emotions. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this isn’t it. I’m not sure whether to be relieved or alarmed. I continue tracing the words, focusing my energy on the page, but nothing else comes to me.
I close the grimoire once more, disappointed. I hoped that after finding the information I sought, my feelings surrounding the Influence spell would clarify. The result has been the opposite. What I found should comfort me to some degree, but it doesn’t. Something about Influence still unsettles me. I just can’t put my finger on what. Although I know Crystal is on the clock, I can’t help wanting more time to research this spell. She seems convinced it’s the answer to her desire to have her abilities back, but what if her longing is clouding her judgment? I don’t want to agree to do the most complex spell I’ve ever seen before investigating things fully.
I slide the grimoire into the still-open drawer of my desk and open my laptop. As I type into the search engine, I push the charm bracelet to the back corner of the desk. Maybe I’ll try keeping this off for a while.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Crystal
Krissa’s ignoring me. She hasn’t responded to my texts since school let out, and I’m doing my best not to hyperventilate.
She still hasn’t agreed to do the spell, and the eclipse is tomorrow.
I do my best to convince myself she’ll come around, but the fact is there’s not much time. Like many spells I’ve worked before, this one requires the elements to charge for at least a day before they’re ready for the casting. That’s why even though Krissa hasn’t agreed yet, I’m going to get everything set up.
When I push through the door to Hannah’s Herbs and am greeted by the familiar tinkling bells, Krissa stands at the register ringing up an order. Hope bubbles in my chest. Maybe she’s been extra busy here at work and that’s why she hasn’t responded to my messages. But when she glances up to greet me, the practiced customer service smile on her face slips incrementally. She’s not happy I’m here.
Instead of stalking straight for her to tell her off for not agreeing to do the one thing that could actually help me, I offer a small wave and pick up one of the woven baskets by the door. Ignoring her, I walk purposefully toward the bundles of dried herbs, selecting the ones I need from memory. I have a list written down, of course, but I don’t need to consult it—I’ve been over the spell too many times.
I feel her eyes on me as I walk from one decorative aluminum planter to another, selecting the required elements. I listen as she chats with the customer at the register. The older woman must be a regular. I can tell from Krissa’s tone she’s distracted. Good. Let her be.
By the time the lady at the register finally leaves, I’m ready with my own order. Besides the two of us, the shop seems empty. I walk straight to the counter and set the basket upon it. Krissa peers into it, her eyebrows high on her forehead.
“What’s all this for?” she asks as she begins taking bundle after bundle out and setting them on the counter.
“I think you know. I figure I can do the prep work, and when your shift ends, you can c
ome over—or maybe we could meet at Griffin’s place…” I trail off deliberately, giving her the space to respond.
She rubs at her wrist absently, and I can’t help noticing she’s not wearing her usual bracelet. “You realize I haven’t said I’ll cast the spell yet, right?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “And you realize that if we don’t do something soon, Brody and Kai are going to kill my family? I doubt they’ll give me an extension because you want to think it over.” Although I keep my voice low, I glance around the shop to be sure Jodi or another employee isn’t hidden in an aisle nearby.
“I get that,” Krissa says, her voice tight. “But you have to understand…there’s something not right about this spell.”
I swallow. Does she know I got the information from Sasha? Is that why she’s so hesitant? But no, if that were the case, she would just come out and say it. I do my best to keep my face impassive. Maybe this is about something else entirely. “I thought you wanted to help me. You promised you’d do anything.”
She sighs. “I did—and I will.”
“All evidence to the contrary,” I snap. “I’ve given you a spell that could actually do everything we need it to. I need to contact Bess. You’ve tried, Lexie’s tried—Felix says it has to be me. I need abilities to contact her, and even you said the spell to let me borrow your magic won’t work. That leaves us with one choice—this choice. If this spell will give me my magic back, why don’t you want to do it?”
“It didn’t say that.”
I shake my head, sure I heard her incorrectly. “What didn’t say what?”
“That information you had me look over. It didn’t say anything about returning lost magic. That’s not what it’s for. I don’t know where this Influence magic is coming from. Do you?”
The thought hasn’t even occurred to me. She’s right—the spell doesn’t appear to be designed for someone in my unique situation. Still, it does seem to be capable of fixing my problem. “Magic is all around us—in every breeze, in every raindrop, in the ground beneath our feet. That’s got to be where the magic comes from.”
“But it doesn’t say that. If this spell were just about charging elements with the magic that occurs in nature, I don’t see why it would need to be so complex.”
“What, so now you’re some expert at magic? Aren’t you still totally new at this? Six months ago, you didn’t even know how to light a candle—now you’re some super genius when it comes to every spell ever written?” My tone is bitter, but I don’t care. Doesn’t she understand what’s at stake here? Sure, she says she does, but does she really get it? No, of course not. How can she? Everything always seems to work out for her. Her mom died in our reality, but she’s alive in this one. Now her dad’s back in her life, and she and her parents live their little fairy tale life at Jodi’s house. The perfect family. Why would she care if mine is destroyed? She couldn’t care less when my aunt Crystal died because it didn’t affect her directly. Why should this be any different?
Krissa runs both hands through her long, pale blonde hair. “If I just had more time…”
I snort. “That’s one luxury I don’t have. Now, are you going to let me buy these things?”
Her fingers flit over the different herbs, but she doesn’t enter any information into the register. “I don’t know how to describe it. I just have a bad feeling.”
I reach across the counter and grab a brown paper bag. “I have a bad feeling, too,” I say as I stuff the bundles of herbs into the sack. “I have a feeling that if we don’t do this spell, I’m going to be an orphan. And you know what’s worse? I’m pretty certain Brody won’t stop there. So maybe it’ll all work out and I won’t be alone for long.”
Krissa’s face pinches. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not saying I won’t help, I just—”
I snatch the bag off the counter and pull a bill from my back pocket. The herbs don’t cost nearly this much, but I’m too angry to care about correct change. “By not helping now, that’s exactly what you’re saying. I get that you’ve got reservations, but if you’re really my friend, you need to put them behind you. You say you want to help, you say you won’t let anything happen to me or the people I love, but when push comes to shove, you don’t really care.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but I don’t want to hear it. I spin on my heel and stalk toward the door. When her voice follows me, I cover my ears with my hands. Maybe it’s childish, but I don’t care. She doesn’t care about me, so why should I care about anything she has to say?
***
I tap my steering wheel nervously as I drive over the familiar streets on my way to Fox’s house. I’m still not sure that I made the right decision, but I have to do something. I don’t want to put anyone else in danger, but Lexie is already involved, so bringing the others in on what I’m doing doesn’t seem as big a risk.
When I pull up in front of Fox’s place, my old usual spot is empty, and it’s tempting to believe that nothing has changed—that this is just another circle meeting where my friends and I will practice spells that have little consequence on our lives in general. It’s tempting to believe we’re meeting just for fun.
Fox’s monster truck is in the driveway, so I know he and Dana are already here. Lexie’s car is on the street, and I assume she brought Bridget, so that means I’m the last to arrive. I didn’t invite Griffin—too big a risk he’ll tell Krissa what I’m up to.
Before stepping out of my car, I make sure I have the folder with all the information about the Influence spell. When I cross the front yard, I’m overcome with memories. How many times have I been at this house? How many hours have I shared with these people? A pang of guilt shoots through my stomach. With the exception of Dana, I’ve shut all of them out of my life. After I lost my abilities, it just got too hard to spend time with them. They tried for so long to make me reconnect, but I shut them down at every turn. Still, they all came when I asked for their help. I don’t deserve friends like this, but I’m thankful I have them.
As always, Fox’s front door is open. His dad, no doubt, is on one of his cross-country trips. It’s the reason we always met at the Holloways’ house instead of somewhere else—their father is almost never home. It’s served us well in the past, and I’m once again thankful for it tonight.
The quiet cadence of voices meets my ears as soon as I enter. As usual, everyone is in the basement. I make my way to the stairs, avoiding the creaky floorboards out of habit. I know this house nearly as well as I know my own.
The conversation continues as I descend, but there’s a drastic drop in volume when I make it to the basement. All eyes flicker toward me. I can’t blame them for their curiosity—I was rather vague in my text. The fact that they don’t know why they’re here adds even more value to their presence.
I’ve gone over what to say dozens of times in my head since I first decided to contact them, and I still haven’t figured out the perfect words. So, instead of something drawn out, I decide it’s best for everyone for me to just cut to the chase. “I need your help.”
Fox tilts his head to the side. “Yeah, figured.”
I press my lips together, fighting back a wave of embarrassment. My friends aren’t stupid. I backtrack. “Thank you for coming.” A surge of affection rises in me. Why did I ever feel the need to shut them out? We’ve been together through so much. Why did I think they couldn’t help me through this, too? I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I’m so sorry—”
Lexie waves a hand before I can get anything else out. “We know. We’re awesome, you love us. We’re not here to make you apologize—we’re here because you said you need us. Can I assume I know a little about what’s up?”
Gratitude toward my cousin swells. I can’t let myself forget that time is of the essence. “Yes, you know a little bit.” I launch into as brief a description as I can give about Brody’s appearance in Clearwater and his demand for information from Bess. I explain what we’ve tried already and
give the shortest explanation of Influence that I can.
“So,” Bridget begins slowly, “you want us to help you…charge the elements?”
I nod. “And cast the spell. Krissa promised she’d help, but I don’t think she’s going to come through. I need you guys. I know I don’t deserve the right to ask this of you, but—”
Lexie stands, crossing to me and holding out her hand. “I’ve just been waiting for you to ask. I want to help you. We all do.”
Fox glances around. “If this spell is as crazy as you say, shouldn’t the whole circle be here? What about Griffin?”
“No offense to your brother, but I can’t be sure he won’t just run and tell Krissa. She doesn’t like the idea of me doing this, and if she knows I’m doing it behind her back, she might try to do something to stop us.” As Lexie and I settle down on our usual spots on the couch, I turn to her. “I have to ask for you not to tell Felix either.”
“You can trust Felix,” she insists.
I hold my hands up. The last thing I want to do is fight with her. “Look, I know he’s a good guy with a good heart—if he weren’t, he wouldn’t have tried to help already. But he poses the same risk as Griffin—he might go to Krissa. Can I trust you not to tell him?”
Lexie’s jaw is set in the maddeningly stubborn way it gets when she wants to get her way, but she nods. “Fine,” she grumbles.
“Thank you.” I know she’s not happy about it, but I don’t need her to like it, I just need her to do what I ask. I open the folder and pull out the pages describing the actual spell. I stopped on the way to make copies for everyone. I hand a set to Dana, even though she won’t be participating in the casting. I give everyone a few minutes to look over everything. As she reads, a line forms between Bridget’s eyebrows. Lexie bites her lip in concentration. Fox is squinting at the text. I can’t blame them. Krissa wasn’t lying about this being the most complex spell she’s ever seen. I feel the same way, and if the looks on everyone else’s faces are any indication, they’re in the same boat.
Moon Magic Page 24
