L
eave me alone! I told all of you! There’s nothing you can do!
Lena’s voice woke me from a few hours of fitful sleep. I pulled on my jeans and a gray T-shirt without even stopping to think
about it. About anything other than this: Day One. We could stop waiting for the end to come.
The end was here.
not with a bang but a whimper not with a bang but a whimper not with a bang but a whimper
Lena was losing it, and it was barely daylight.
The Book. Damn, I’d forgotten it. I ran back up into my room, two stairs at a time. I reached up to the top shelf of my closet,
where I’d hidden it, bracing myself for the scorching that went along with touching a Caster book.
Only it didn’t happen. Because it wasn’t there.
The Book of Moons
, our book, was gone. We needed that book, today of all days. But Lena’s voice was pounding in my head.
this is the way the world ends not with a bang but a whimper
Lena reciting T. S. Eliot was not a good sign. I grabbed the keys to the Volvo and ran.
The sun was rising as I drove down Dove Street. Greenbrier, or the only empty field in Gatlin to everyone else in town—making
it the location of the Battle of Honey Hill—was beginning to come to life, too. The funny thing was, I couldn’t even hear
the artillery outside my car window, because of the artillery going off in my head.
By the time I ran up the steps of Ravenwood’s veranda, Boo was waiting for me, barking. Larkin was on the steps, too, leaning
against one of the pillars. He was in his leather jacket, playing with the snake that curled and uncurled its way around his
arm. First it was his arm, then it was a snake. He Shifted idly between shapes, like a dealer shuffling a deck of cards. The
sight of it caught me off guard for a second. That, and the way he made Boo bark. Come to think of it, I couldn’t tell if
Boo was barking at me or Larkin. Boo belonged to Macon, and Macon and I hadn’t exactly left things on speaking terms.
“Hey, Larkin.” He nodded, disinterested. It was cold, and a puff of breath crept out of his mouth, as if from an imaginary
cigarette. The puff stretched out into a circle that became a tiny white snake, which then bit into its own tail, devouring
itself until it disappeared.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I was you. Your girlfriend is a little, how should I put it? Venomous?” The snake curved its length
around his neck, then became the collar of his leather jacket.
Aunt Del flung the door open. “Finally, we’ve been waiting for you. Lena’s in her room and she won’t let any of us in.”
I looked at Aunt Del, so muddled, her scarf dangling lopsidedly from one shoulder, her glasses askew, even her off-kilter
gray bun coming unraveled from its twist. I leaned in to give her a hug. She smelled like one of the Sisters’ antique cabinets,
full of lavender sachets and old linens, handed down from Sister to Sister. Reece and Ryan stood behind her like a mournful
family in a grim hospital lobby, waiting for bad news.
Again, Ravenwood seemed more attuned to Lena and her mood than to Macon’s, or maybe this was a mood they shared. Macon was
nowhere to be found, so I couldn’t tell. If you could imagine the color of anger, it had been splashed over every wall. Rage,
or something equally dense and seething, was hanging from every chandelier, resentment woven into thick carpets padding the
room, hatred flickering underneath every lampshade. The floor was bathed in a creeping shadow, a particular darkness that
had seeped up into the walls, and right now was rolling across my Converse so I almost couldn’t see them. Absolute darkness.
I can’t say for sure how the room looked. I was too distracted by how it felt, and it felt pretty rank. I took a tentative
step onto the grand flying staircase that led up to Lena’s bedroom. I’d gone up those stairs a hundred times before; it’s
not like I didn’t know where they went. And yet somehow, today felt different. Aunt Del looked at Reece and Ryan, following
behind me, as if I was leading the way into an unknown war front.
When I stepped onto the second stair, the whole house shook. The thousand candles of the ancient chandelier swinging over
my head shuddered and dripped wax down onto my face. I winced and jerked back. Without warning, the stairway curled up beneath
my feet and snapped underneath me, tossing me back onto my butt, sending me skidding halfway across the polished floors of
the entry hall. Reece and Aunt Del made it out of the way, but I took poor Ryan with me like a bowling ball hitting the pins
at County Line Lanes.
I stood up and shouted up the stairs. “Lena Duchannes. If you sic those stairs on me again, I’m gonna report you to the Disciplinary
Committee myself.”
I took a step onto the first stair, and then the second. Nothing happened. “I will call Mr. Hollingsworth and personally testify
that you’re a dangerous lunatic.” I double-jumped the stairs, all the way up to the first landing. “Because if you do that
to me again, you will be, you hear me?” Then I heard it, her voice, uncurling in my mind.
You don’t understand.
I know you’re scared, L, but shutting everyone out isn’t going to make things any better.
Go away.
No.
I mean it, Ethan. Go away. I don’t want anything to happen to you.
I can’t.
Now I was standing at her bedroom door, leaning my cheek against the cold white wood of the paneling. I wanted to be with
her, as close to her as I could get without having another heart attack. And if this was as near as she would let me get,
it was enough for me, for now.
Are you there, Ethan?
I’m right here.
I’m afraid.
I know, L.
I don’t want you to get hurt.
I won’t.
Ethan, I don’t want to leave you.
You won’t.
What if I do?
I’ll wait for you.
Even if I’m Dark?
Even if you’re very, very Dark.
She pulled the door open and pulled me inside. Music was blasting. I knew the song. This was an angry, almost metal version
of it, but I recognized it all the same.
Sixteen moons, sixteen years
Sixteen of your deepest fears
Sixteen times you dreamed my tears
Falling, falling through the years…
It looked like she had been crying all night. She probably had. When I touched her face, I saw it was still striped with tears.
I held her in my arms, and we swayed while the song played on.
Sixteen moons, sixteen years
Sound of thunder in your ears
Sixteen miles before she nears
Sixteen seeks what sixteen fears…
Over her shoulder, I could see her room was in shambles. The plaster on her walls was cracked and falling and her dresser
was overturned, the way a thief tosses a room during a break-in. Her windows were shattered. Without the glass the small metal
panes looked like prison bars from some ancient castle. The prisoner clung to me as the melody wrapped around us.
Still, the music didn’t stop.
Sixteen moons, sixteen years,
Sixteen times you dreamed my fears,
Sixteen will try to Bind the spheres,
Sixteen screams but just one hears…
The last time I was here, the ceiling had been almost completely covered in words detailing Lena’s innermost thoughts. But
now, every surface of the room was covered in her distinctive black handwriting. The edges of the ceiling now read: Loneliness
is holding the one you love / When you know you might never hold him again. The walls: Even lost in the darkness / My heart
will find you. The doorjambs: The soul dies at the hand of the one who carries it. The mirrors: If I could find a place to
run away / Hidden safely, I would be there today. Even the dresser was marred with phrases: The darkest daylight finds me
here, those who wait are always watching, and the one that seemed to say it all, How do you escape from yourself? I could
see her story in the words, hear it in the music.
Sixteen moons, sixteen years,
The Claiming Moon, the hour nears,
In these pages Darkness clears,
Powers Bind what fire sears…
Then the electric guitar slowed, and I heard a new verse, the end of the song. Finally, something had an ending. I tried to
put the earth and fire and water and wind dreams out of my head as I listened.
Sixteenth Moon, Sixteenth Year,
Now has come the day you fear,
Claim or be Claimed,
Shed blood, shed tear,
Moon or Sun—destroy, revere.
The guitar died out, and now we were standing in silence.
“What do you think—”
She put her hand on my lips. She couldn’t bear to talk about it. She was as raw as I had ever seen her. A cold breeze was
blowing past her, surrounding her, and exhaling out through the open door behind me. I didn’t know if her cheeks were red
from the cold or from her tears, and I didn’t ask. We fell onto her bed and curled into one ball, until it would have been
hard to sort out whose limbs were whose. We weren’t kissing, but it was like we were. We were closer than I’d ever realized
two people could be.
I guess this was what it felt like to love someone, and feel like you had lost them. Even when you were still holding them
in your arms.
Lena was shivering. I could feel every rib, every bone in her body, and her movements seemed involuntary. I untangled my arm
from around her neck and twisted so I could grab the pieced quilt from the foot of her bed and pull it up over us. She burrowed
into my chest and I pulled the quilt higher. Now it was over our heads, and we were in a dark little cave together, the two
of us.
The cave became warm with our breath. I kissed her cold mouth and she kissed me back. The current between us intensified and
she nuzzled her way into the hollow of my neck.
Do you think we can stay like this forever, Ethan?
We can do whatever you want. It’s your birthday.
I felt her stiffen in my arms.
Don’t remind me.
But I brought you a present.
She held up the cover, to let just a crack of light in. “You did? I told you not to.”
“Since when did I ever listen to anything you say? Besides, Link says if a girl says not to get her a birthday present that
means get me a birthday present and make sure it’s jewelry.”
“That’s not true of all girls.”
“Okay. Forget it.”
She let the quilt drop, then snuggled back into my arms.
Is it?
What?
Jewelry.
I thought you didn’t want a present?
Just curious.
I smiled to myself and pulled down the quilt. The cold air hit us both at the same time, and I quickly pulled a small box
out of my jeans and dove back under the covers. I lifted the quilt up so she could see the box.
“Put it down, it’s too cold.”
I let it fall, and we were surrounded by darkness again. The box began to glow with green light, and I could make out Lena’s
slender fingertips as she pulled off the silver ribbon. The glow spread, warm and bright, until her face was softly lit across
from mine.
“That’s a new one.” I smiled at her in the green light.
“I know. It’s been happening ever since I woke up this morning. Whatever I think, just sort of happens.”
“Not bad.”
She stared at the box wistfully, as if she was waiting as long as she could to open it. It occurred to me that this was possibly
the only present Lena would get today. Aside from the surprise party I was holding off telling her about until the last minute.
Surprise party?
Whoops.
You’d better be joking.
Tell that to Ridley and Link.
Yeah? The surprise is, there isn’t going to be a party.
Just open the box.
She glared at me and opened the box, and more light came pouring out, even though the gift had nothing to do with that. Her
face softened and I knew I was off the hook about the party. It was that thing, about girls and jewelry. Who knew? Link was
right after all.
She held up a necklace, delicate and shining, with a ring hanging from the chain. It was a carved gold circle, three strands
of gold—sort of rose colored, and yellow, and white—all braided into a wreath.
Ethan! I love it.
She kissed me about a hundred times, and I started talking, even while she was kissing me. Because I felt like I had to tell
her, before she put it on, before something happened. “It belonged to my mom. I got it out of her old jewelry box.”
“Are you sure about this?” she asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. Lena knew how I felt about my mom. It was a big deal, and I felt relieved
that we both could admit it. “It’s not rare or anything, like a diamond or whatever, but it’s valuable to me. I think she’d
be okay with me giving it to you because, you know.”
What?
Ah.
“You’re gonna make me spell it out?” My voice sounded weird, all shaky.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not that great at spelling.” She knew I was squirming, but she was going to make me
say it. I preferred our silent mode of communication. It made talking, real talking, a lot easier for a guy like me. I brushed
her hair off of the back of her neck, and attached the necklace at the clasp. It hung around her neck, sparkling in the light,
right above the one she never took off. “Because you’re really special to me.”
How special?
I think you’re wearing the answer around your neck.
I’m wearing a lot of things around my neck.
I touched her charm necklace. It all looked like junk, and most of it was—the most important junk in the world. And now it
had become my junk, too. A flattened penny with a hole in it, from one of those machines at the food court across from the
movie theater, where we had gone on our first date. A piece of yarn from the red sweater she had worn to go parking at the
water tower, which had become an inside joke between us. The silver button I had given her for luck at the disciplinary meeting.
My mom’s little paper-clip star.