Goddess of the Night (17 page)

in single-line
formation to steal the last stains of food in the paper. She stared
at it and wondered if Catty had found it and held it, watching the
ants as she did now, before she had fallen into a hole in time.

Something
glowed in the tall dry grass near the edge. At first she ignored the
sparkle. Then she stepped closer. Catty's watch lay tangled in the
grass. Catty would never leave her watch behind. She had to see the
hands to know which way she was traveling, past or future. Vanessa
snapped the watch on her wrist. Another glint of light caught in the
corner of her eye. Her heart lurched. Catty's moon amulet lay in
loose gravel, the chain caught on a stone. She picked it up.

A twig snapped
behind her. She turned quickly.

Stanton stood
behind her, eyes intense.

She started to
take a step back and caught herself. She balanced on the edge of the
ledge. If she stepped back farther she would plummet to the cement
seats below.

"I knew
you'd come looking for Catty," he said, his voice as soft as the
night.

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"I thought
you were out with Morgan," she said, trying to buy time.

"Morgan's
here," he answered. "You shouldn't worry so much about your
friend." He took her hand and pulled her from the ledge.

Her breath
caught. With his face silhouetted against the dark, she knew why he
was so curiously familiar.

"You?"
she said as a cold knot of fear tightened in her stomach. "You
followed me that night when I walked home from Planet Bang."

He smiled, eyes
fervent. "Yes," he stated simply. "I've always been in
the dark with you."

He pulled her
closer to him. His head leaned down and he spoke against her cheek.
Soft lips grazed her skin. "I can feel your heart racing. You
shouldn't be afraid of me." His breath caressed her. "I've
come to help you."

"Help me?"
She glanced down. Catty's amulet glowed opalescent. Fiery pinks and
blues shot into the dark.

"I've come
to help you get Catty back."

"How?"

"Next
Saturday, during the dark of the

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moon, I'll take
you to her."

"If you
know where she is, why can't we go now?" she demanded.

"It must
be during the dark of the moon," he explained.

"Why?"

He looked at
her, then his hand gripped the back of her neck and forced her to
look into his blue eyes. A black emptiness seemed to be voraciously
trying to drag her in. His thoughts touched hers and then she knew.
She pulled away. Everything Maggie had told her was true.

"Because
my power is weakest then," she whispered in disbelief and
wonder. "And you ..."

"Yes."
He nodded. "I am a Follower."

"You have
Catty?"

"If you
want her back, you'll go with me and surrender your power to the
Atrox."

"My what?"

"Do you
want me to say it?" he breathed into her ear. "Your
invisibility."

She nodded.

"I'll be
waiting around the corner from your house at the lost soul's hour."

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"Which is
. . . ?"

"Goddess,
don't tell me you don't know?" He said
goddess
as if it
were her rightful name.

Her hands
started trembling. "I don't."

"The
deepest part of night, two hours before it dawns."

She watched him
walk away. The shadows closed around him. Disbelief mingled with her
fear. This was crazy. What Maggie had told her couldn't be true, and
yet it was.

She started up
the hill. She hadn't gone far when she heard whimpering. At first she
thought she was mistaken but the sound came again, a definite human
lament. She pushed through gluey cobwebs and tripped over something
large and soft.

"Morgan?"
she whispered.

"Vanessa?"
Morgan flicked on a flashlight hooked to her key chain. A tiny beam
of light circled them. The air around Morgan felt thick with sadness.
She looked as if she was about to cry, and then she grabbed Vanessa's
arm and did. The tears fell warm on Vanessa's skin.

"Something's
wrong," Morgan finally said

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when she
stopped crying. "I feel... so ... empty."

"It's all
right," Vanessa soothed, her own voice as thin as a ghost.

"I'm cold,
so cold."

Vanessa took
off her jacket and wrapped it around Morgan. Her skin felt rough with
goose bumps.

"Did
Stanton do something to you?" Vanessa asked when Morgan had
finished crying again.

"Stanton?"
Morgan echoed. She brushed her hand through her hair. Bits of leaves
and dirt clung to her forehead. She didn't wipe them away.

"His
friends--did they do something?"

"Who?"

Vanessa sat
down beside her and put an arm around her. "Can you walk?"

"Maybe,"
Morgan said, but she didn't move. Even the smallest task seemed to
require too much effort.

Vanessa stood,
took her hand, and helped her to her feet. Dry grass and dirt covered
her boots and thighs. "I'll take you home."

She and Morgan
struggled up the steep slope. The wind had shifted and Vanessa could

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smell the salt
spray on the damp air rolling in from the beach. She had a strange
feeling that something had cut through the air and ripped a curtain
between reality and another plane. And she had entered a shadow
universe that few people see.

232

Chapter 22

,AN HOUR LATER,
Morgan sat at the table in her mother's blue kitchen, a yellow afghan
wrapped around her shoulders. Vanessa warmed a cup of milk in the
microwave and set it on the oak table in front of her.

Morgan's
housekeeper, Barushe, sat in a rumpled green robe at the opposite end
of the table, staring at the wide plank flooring. Her round face said
she was still trying to cast off the last remnants of a dream. Then
she looked at Morgan and her kind eyes filled with understanding. She
kissed the gold crucifix hanging around her neck.

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"Can you
call her parents and tell them they need to come home?" Vanessa
asked.

"I'll call
them." Barushe nodded and went to the phone.

Morgan sipped
the milk. She held the cup with two hands like a small child and
looked at Vanessa with a strange faraway stare.

Vanessa left
through the back door. She followed the gray stone slabs around the
swimming pool. The water echoed the moon's glow, adding gentle
ripples to the reflection. She walked through the pool house. The
scents of chlorine and wet bathing suits held the night until she
opened the iron gate and stepped into the alley.

By the time she
turned the corner to Maggie's apartment a line of deep gray pushed
against the horizon, lifting the night. Men and women in bathrobes
walked their dogs and sipped steaming cups of coffee.

She pushed the
security button at the door to Maggie's apartment.

"Yes?"
A voice came over the speaker.

"It's
Vanessa."

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The magnetic
lock buzzed. Vanessa opened the door and hurried inside.

Maggie was
waiting for her on the fourth- floor landing when the elevator doors
slid open. She wasn't disguised as a retired schoolteacher this time.
Her pale moon-blond hair curled around her head like a halo. She was
more beautiful than Vanessa remembered.

Maggie smiled.
"I knew you'd be back. Now, tell me what has happened that made
you believe."

Vanessa told
her about meeting Stanton and finding Morgan as they walked down the
balcony to the apartment.

"Does that
mean Morgan will become one of them now?"

"No, she
can't become one simply by having hope taken from her," Maggie
explained as she opened the door. "The Atrox doesn't come as a
vampire does. Its victims must choose to be Followers."

Maggie and
Vanessa entered the apartment.

"Unfortunately,"
Maggie continued, "evil is an easy choice once hope is gone.
Without hope,

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people become
desperate to escape the pain. They seldom see the rhythms in their
own lives, how dark phases come before new beginnings. The victims
seek the evil of the Atrox because anything feels better than the
absolute nothing with which they are left. Violence confirms their
existence and evil becomes their way of life. They can become very
powerful and very dangerous. And, of course, the Atrox rewards their
evil doings. Immortality is one gift it bestows. Now, sit down while
I get us some chamomile tea."

Maggie came
back from the kitchen, carrying a tray with a steaming teakettle and
two cups. She poured hot water over yellow flowers in a strainer.
"The dark of the moon is a time too dangerous for you to meet
any of the Followers. I absolutely forbid it."

"I have to
do something." Vanessa had thought Maggie would tell her all the
secrets and send her charging back to rescue Catty.

"I know
you're concerned for Catty. So am I. But you must take great care.
These creatures of the Atrox are strongest during the dark of the
moon when your power is weakest." She handed

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Vanessa a cup
of tea. "They have power to steal your thoughts, your dreams,
your hope, and they can imprison you in their most evil memories.
During the dark of the moon you won't be strong enough to resist
their mind control."

Maggie sipped
her tea, then added, "I must caution you--if they can stop one
Daughter . . . eliminate her, then the power of all the Daughters is
greatly weakened."

"But they
already have Catty," Vanessa insisted.

"Yes, so
there must be a reason the Atrox needs you," Maggie reasoned.
"The Followers are probably holding Catty as a way to capture
you. Perhaps, the Atrox has seen something in your future."

Maggie was
thoughtful. "I had always thought it would be Serena because her
power is so similar to that of the Followers. She can penetrate minds
and see things people keep hidden even from themselves. But maybe . .
. maybe it is you, Vanessa. Maybe you are the key, the one who will
find the way to wipe out darkness permanently."

"Then why
didn't they kill me before?"

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"Kill you?
No, my dear, the key can turn both ways. If you are the key, then you
can be used to increase either the powers of the dark, or the light.
If you are the key, the Atrox means to seduce you and have your
soul."

Vanessa felt a
chill pass through her. "How do I defeat it?"

"Simply by
being on the side of good. It's water on a flame, when someone laughs
or loves or sings with joy."

Vanessa wanted
a simple answer. A silver bullet, a stake through the heart,
something definite and precise, but could she do that? Kill? She
hesitated a moment, then spoke. "I could never kill anything."

"No, of
course not, we never use the tools of the Atrox. Violence only feeds
the Atrox. The Followers grow stronger when people use the tools of
the Atrox to fight. They become utterly invincible then, because you
have unwittingly chosen evil as your defense. You are a force of
good. You must always remember that."

"But how
can I defeat something if I can't fight it?"

"With the
power inside you. As a Daughter

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of the Moon,
you will know intuitively when the moon is full. So take heart, be
brave. It will come naturally to you."

"Then I'm
dead for sure," Vanessa mumbled. "Nothing has ever come
easy for me."

"This
month has a Blue Moon, a fairy night. We'll bring Catty back then. I
promise. Now run along home and be safe. Take no chances while I make
plans."

"But what
will happen to Catty if I wait?"

"If they
keep her long enough, I suppose she could willingly turn. But you
must promise me that you won't do anything."

"I thought
I was supposed to save the world from the Atrox?"

"Yes, but
you are too vulnerable during the dark of the moon. And this Dark
moon is especially bad coming in the tenth month of the New
Millennium It is the Blood Moon. Very risky. Promise me!"

Vanessa
hesitated. "I swear."

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Chapter 23

B
Y
THURSDAY VANESSA was seriously worried about Morgan. She hadn't come
to school, and today was the day they were supposed to sign up to
decorate for homecoming.

After school,
Vanessa stopped at a newsstand on Fairfax. She bought Morgan's
favorite magazines and then caught the bus to her house.

Barushe
answered the door. She had a strained look of fear on her face. "I'm
glad you're here. Her parents can't come home until next

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week." She
glanced up as if she expected Morgan to suddenly appear at the top of
the stairs.

"How is
she?"

"I'll show
you," Barushe said. "Let me get her tea first."

Vanessa
followed Barushe to the kitchen. She had fixed a tray with lemon tea
and cookies.

"We'll use
the back stairs." Barushe motioned with her head as she picked
up the tray.

Vanessa
followed her up the narrow winding staircase that led upstairs from
the pantry next to the kitchen.

At the end of
the hallway Barushe pushed a door open with her foot and led Vanessa
into Morgan's bedroom. The first thing she noticed was the odd smell.
Barushe had placed bouquets of wild mountain thyme in glass jars and
strung garlic across the windows and around the iron bedpost. Barushe
came from Romania. Maybe she thought Morgan had fallen prey to a
younger evil, one for which garlic and thyme were charms.

Morgan lay in
bed, a pink quilt wrapped around her in spite of the heat. Her hair
was swept up in a knot on the top of her head, and