The Coven (10 page)

“All right,” Ethan said. “Cool.” He leaned 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 one another, busing their trays. We were 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,” Bree 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.

January 3, 1982

Old Towson lost three more sheep last night. This is after all the ward-evil spells we’ve been doing for the past month. Now most of his flock is 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, 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, sleeping among 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?

She looked so tired. I didn’t have the heart to wake her.

I crept out like a mouse.Then Tamara called and asked if I could come over and study with her for a calc test. So I went.Anything to get out of the house.

I had dinner at Tamara’s, and when I got home, Mom and Dad had both gone to bed.

I went into the study and switched on the computer. I wanted to go to one of the online Wicca sites and see if I could find out the meaning of the runes on Selene Belltower’s door frame. I could still picture at least five of them in my mind. I also wanted to look up Maeve Riordan’s family tree again. Maybe there was some link I hadn’t noticed or some other information I’d missed.

While the computer booted up, I sat there, biting my thumbnail and thinking. Part of me was getting more and more wound up, the longer my parents avoided answering my questions. But I also had to admit that part of me was almost happy about these delays. I was honestly afraid of how painful and ugly the whole scene might be.

I logged on and entered in the html address that I remembered from before. But instead of Maeve’s family tree a message popped onto the screen:

I frowned. Had I entered the address wrong? I typed in
Maeve Riordan
and ran a search. Twenty-six matches popped up.

Last time there had been twenty-seven.

I scrolled rapidly down the list. No html. Was the genealogy site gone?

I tried running a search for
Ballynigel
.That took me to a map site and opened a window with a map of Ireland. Ballynigel was a dot on the west coast. I couldn’t zoom in on it.

I typed in
Belwicket
and clicked the search button. I got no hits.

I slapped the keyboard in frustration. The site was gone. Just gone.As if it had never been there.

I told myself not to get too worked up. Maybe it was being upgraded or updated or something. If I just tried it again in a couple of days, it might well be back.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I tipped back my head and breathed deeply. Then, feeling calmer, I entered a Web address I’d gotten from Ethan—an address for a site about rune magick.

In a moment the home page opened, and mysterious symbols glowed before my eyes. I leaned closer, my worries fading to the back of my mind as I began to read.

It was nearly an hour later when I finally logged off and shut down the computer. When I closed my eyes, runes still danced across the insides of my lids. I’d learned a lot tonight.

I picked up a pen and traced my new favorite rune on a scrap of paper that sat by the keyboard. Ken: It looked like a V turned on its side. It stood for fire, including inspiration and passion of spirit. It was so simple, yet so strong.

Underneath it I traced my other new favorite rune, Ur, strength.

I sighed. I needed a lot of that right now.

 

On Thursday afternoon I was startled when Mom came into the family room. I was watching Oprah and doing my American history homework.