Book of Shadows (4 page)

“Sowen?” Jenna Ruiz said faintly.

“S-a-m-h-a-i-n,”
Cal clarified. “Pronounced Sow-en. Our biggest holiday, the witches’ new year. October 31. Most people call it Halloween.”

Silence, broken only by the crackling of the logs as they burned.

Chris was the first to speak. “So, what, man?” he said with a nervous laugh. “You saying you’re a witch?”

“Well, yeah, actually. I practice a form of Wicca,” Cal said.

“Isn’t that like devil worship?” Alessandra asked, wrinkling her nose.

“No, no. Not at all,” Cal responded in a way that wasn’t the least bit defensive. “There is no devil in Wicca. It’s about the tamest and most inclusive religion there is, truthfully. It’s all about celebrating nature.”

Alessandra looked skeptical.

“So, anyway, I was hoping to find a few people to make a circle with me tonight.”

Silence.

Cal looked around, absorbing the surprise and discomfort in almost every face but showing no sign of regret. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. Making a circle doesn’t mean you’re joining Wicca. It doesn’t mean you’re going against your religion or whatever. If you’re not into it, don’t worry about it. I just thought some people might think it’s cool.”

I looked at Tamara. Her dark brown eyes were wide. Bree turned to me, and we shared a glance that communicated a whole conversation’s worth of ideas. Yes, we were both surprised and a little skeptical, but we were both intrigued, too. Bree’s look told me she was interested, she wanted to hear more. I felt the same way.

“What do you mean, a circle?” It was a few seconds before I recognized the voice as my own.

“We all stand in a circle,” explained Cal, “and join hands, and give thanks to the Goddess and the God for the harvest. We celebrate the fertility of the spring and summer and look forward to the barrenness of winter. And we walk in a circle.”

“You’re joking,” Todd Ellsworth said, sipping his beer.

Cal looked at him evenly. “No, I’m not. But if you’re not into it, that’s fine.”

“Jesus, he’s serious,” Chris said to no one in particular.

Bree deliberately shrugged his arm off her shoulders, and he scowled at her.

“Anyway,” Cal said, standing up. “It’s almost ten. Anyone who wants to stay is welcome, but you’re also welcome to leave.Thanks a lot for coming and hanging out, either way.”

Raven stood up and walked over to Cal, her dark, heavily outlined eyes on his. “I’ll stay.” She turned a disdainful face to the rest of us, as if to say, “You wankers.”

“I think I’m gonna go home,” Tamara whispered to me, and stood up.

“I’m going to stay for a while,” I said softly, and she nodded, waved good-bye to Cal, and left.

“I’m outta here,” said Chris loudly, throwing his beer bottle into the woods. He got to his feet. “Bree? Come on.”

“I came with Morgan,” Bree said, moving closer to me. “I’ll go home with her.”

“Come on with me now,” Chris insisted.

“No, thanks,” Bree said, meeting my eyes. I gave her the slightest smile of encouragement.

Chris swore, then crashed off through the trees, muttering. I reached over and squeezed her arm.

I cast a glance at Cal. He was sitting with his knees bent and his elbows resting on them.There seemed to be no tension in his body. He just watched.

Raven, Bree, and I stayed. Ben Reggio left. Jenna stayed, so of course Matt stayed, too. Robbie stayed: good. Beth Nielson stayed, and so did Sharon Goodfine and Ethan Sharp. Alessandra hesitated but stayed, and so did Suzanne and Todd.

When it looked like everyone had left who was going to, there were thirteen of us standing there.

“Cool,” Cal said, standing. “Thanks for staying. Let’s get started.”

 

While we milled around uncertainly, Cal took a stick and drew a large, perfect circle in the ground around the fire. Before he joined the two ends of the circle, he gestured us inside, then closed the circle as if he were shutting a door. I felt a bit like a sheep inside a pen.

Then Cal took out a box of salt and sprinkled it all around the drawn circle. “With this salt, I purify our circle,” he said.

Bree and I glanced at each other and smiled tentatively.

“Okay, now, let’s join hands,” Cal said, holding out his hands. A wave of shy self-consciousness washed over me as I realized I was standing closest to his left hand. He reached for my hand and held it. Raven went to Cal’s other side, taking his right hand firmly.

Bree was on my other side, then Jenna and Matt, Beth, Alessandra, Todd, and Suzanne. Sharon, Ethan, and Robbie made up the other side, and Robbie held Raven’s other hand.

Cal lifted my hand, and our arms were raised to the narrow patch of clear sky above us. “Thanks to the Goddess,” Cal said in a strong voice. He looked around the circle at the rest of us. “Now you guys say it.”

“Thanks to the Goddess,” we said, though my voice was so low, I doubt I added anything. I wondered who the Goddess was.

“Thanks to the God,” Cal said, and again we repeated it.

“Today day and night are balanced,” Cal continued. “Today the sun enters the sign of Libra, the balance.”

Todd chuckled, and Cal slanted his eyes at him.

I seemed to grow a billion extra nerve endings in my left hand. I tried not to think so much about whether I was holding Cal’s hand too tightly or loosely, whether my hand was clammy from nervousness.

“Today the dark begins to dominate the light,” Cal said. “Today is the autumn equinox. It’s the time of harvest, when crops are gathered. We give thanks to the Earth Mother, who nourishes us.” He looked around the circle again. “Now you guys say ‘blessed be.’ ”

“Blessed be,” we said. I was praying my hand didn’t all out start sweating in Cal’s. His was rough and strong, gripping mine as hard as possible without hurting it. Did my hand feel pathetically limp in return?

“It’s the time to gather the seeds,” Cal said in his calm voice. “We gather the seeds to renew our crops for next year. The cycle of life continues to nourish us.” He looked around the circle. “Now we all say ‘blessed be.’ ”

“Blessed be,” we said.

“We give thanks to the God, who will sacrifice himself in order to be reborn again,” Cal said. I frowned, not liking the word
sacrifice.
He nodded at us.

“Blessed be,” we said.

“Now let us breathe,” Cal said. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, and one by one we did the same.

I heard Suzanne drawing in exaggerated-sounding breaths and opened my eyes a slit to see Todd smirking. Their reactions irritated me.

“Okay,” Cal continued, opening his eyes after a few minutes. He seemed either unaware of or was deliberately ignoring Todd and Suzanne. “Now we’re going to do a banishing chant, so we’ll move widdershins—that means counterclockwise. You’ll catch on.”

Cal’s body pushed me gently counterclockwise, and two seconds later we were all doing a Wiccan version of ring-around-a-rosy. Cal chanted, over and over so that we all learned it and could join in:

It felt less weird after a couple of minutes, and soon I felt oddly exhilarated, practically running in a circle, holding hands under the moon. Bree looked so happy and alive that I couldn’t help smiling at her.

A while later—it could have been two minutes or a half hour—I noticed I was starting to feel dizzy and strange. I’m one of those people who can never go on merry-go-rounds, roller coasters that do inversions, or anything that goes around in circles. It’s an inner-ear thing, but the bottom line is I throw up. So I was starting to feel kind of iffy but didn’t feel quite like I could stop.

Just as I was wondering what we would be banishing, Cal said, “Raven? What would you get rid of if you could? What do you banish?”

Raven smiled, and she looked almost pretty for a moment, like a regular girl.“I banish small minds!” she called gleefully.

“Jenna?” Cal asked as we moved in our circle.

“I banish hatred,” Jenna said after a pause.

She glanced at Matt. “I banish jealousy,” he said.

Holding tightly to Cal and Bree’s hands, I raced in a circle around the fire, someplace between running and dancing, simultaneously pushed and pulled. I began to feel like a sliver of soap at the bottom of a bathtub whirlpool, going around and around, out of control. But I wasn’t getting sucked toward the drain. Instead I was rising up through the ribbed circle of water, rising to the top, held in place by centrifugal force. I felt light-headed and weirdly happy.

“I banish anger,” Robbie called out.

“I banish, like, school,” Todd said.

What an idiot, I thought.

“I banish plaid golf pants!” said Alessandra, and Suzanne giggled.

“I banish fat-free hot dogs,” Suzanne contributed. I felt Cal’s hand tighten a bit around mine.

To my surprise, Sharon went next with,“I banish
stupidity
.” “I banish my stepmother!” Ethan yelled, laughing.

“I banish powerlessness,” cried Beth.

Next to me Bree shouted, “I banish fear!”

Was it my turn? I thought dizzily.

Cal squeezed my hand hard. What was I afraid of? Right then, I couldn’t remember any of my fears. I mean, I’m afraid of all kinds of things: failing tests, speaking in public, my parents dying, getting my period at school when I’m wearing white, but I couldn’t think of how to phrase those fears to fit in with our banishment circle.

“Um,” I said.

“Come on!” Raven cried, her voice tearing away, lost in the whirling circle.

“Come on,” said Bree, her dark eyes on me.

“Come on,” Cal whispered, as if he were enticing me into a private space with him alone.

“I banish limitations!” I blurted out, unsure where the words had sprung from or why they felt right.

Then it happened. As if obeying a director’s cue, we threw our hands apart from one another, up in the air, and stopped where we stood. In the next instant I felt a piercing pain in my chest, as if my skin literally ripped open. I gasped, clutched my chest, and stumbled.

“What’s with
her
?” I heard Raven say as I sank to my knees, pressing hard on the center of my chest. I felt dizzy, sick, and embarrassed.

“Too much brew,” Todd suggested.

Bree’s hand touched my shoulder. I sucked in breath and rose unsteadily to my feet. I was sweating and clammy, breathing hard, and felt like I was about to faint.

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?” Bree put her arm around me and shielded me with her body. Thankfully I leaned into her. A cloudy mist swam before my eyes, turning everything around me into a heat mirage. I blinked and swallowed, wanting childishly to cry. With each breath I took, the pain in my chest was lessening. I became aware that the members of the circle were gathered around me. I felt their gazes on me.

“I’m okay,” I said, my voice low and raspy. Heat came off Bree’s tall, thin body in waves, and her dark hair was stuck to her forehead. My own hair hung around me in long, limp strands. Although I was sweating, I felt cold, chilled to the bone.

“Maybe I’m coming down with something,” I said, trying to speak more strongly.

“Like witchitosis,” Suzanne said sarcastically, her tanned face looking plastic in the moonlight.

I stood up straighter and realized the pain was almost gone. “I don’t know what that was—a cramp or something.” I broke away from Bree and tried a shaky step. And that was when I noticed something was wrong with my eyes.

I blinked several times and looked up at the sky. Everything was brighter, as if the moon had blown into fullness, but it was still just a sharp-edged crescent, a cream-colored sickle in the sky. I glanced at the woods and felt drawn into them, as if into a 3-D photograph. I saw every pine needle, every acorn, and every fallen twig in sharp relief. I closed my eyes and realized I could hear each separate sound of the night: insects, animals, birds, my friends’ breathing, the delicate swoosh of my blood moving through my veins.The drone of crickets splintered into a thousand pieces—the music of a thousand separate beings.

I blinked again and looked at the faces around me, dim but utterly distinct in the firelight. Robbie and Bree wore expressions of concern, but it was Cal’s face that held my eyes. Cal was gazing at me intently, his golden eyes seeming to strip through my skin to the bones underneath.

Abruptly I sat down on the ground.The earth was slightly damp and covered with a thin layer of decaying leaves. The crunching sound was incredibly loud in my ears as I tucked my legs beneath me. Instantly I felt better, as if the ground itself were absorbing my shaky feelings. I looked deeply into the fire, and the timeless, eternal dance of colors I saw there was so beautiful, I wanted to cry.

Cal’s deep voice floated toward me as clearly as a whisper in a tunnel, as if his words were meant for me alone, and they found me unerringly even as the group dissolved into talking.

He said the words under his breath, his gaze fixed on my face. “I banish loneliness.”