Dark Magick (15 page)

He nodded, then opened the car door and got out. We walked up the pavement to Ethan’s small, split-level brick rambler. “That’s natural,” he said, not sounding offended. “I’m the only one who’s worked there, and I’ve done some intense stuff. I’m not surprised it seemed a little uncomfortable.” He sounded relieved.“You’ll get used to it pretty fast.”

He rang the doorbell while I wondered if I even wanted to get used to it.

“Hey, man,” said Ethan. “Come on in.”

This was the first time I’d been to Ethan’s house: before we were coven mates, we’d never socialized in or out of school. Now I saw that his house was modest but tidy, the furniture worn but cared for. Suddenly two small apricot bundles skittered around the corner from the hall, barking wildly, and I backed up a little.

Jenna laughed from the couch. “Here, pup dogs,” she called. The two doglets ran toward her, panting happily, and Jenna gave them each a tortilla chip. She’d obviously been here before and knew Ethan’s dogs.Another surprise.

“I never figured you for Pomeranians,” Cal told Ethan with a straight face.

“They’re my mom’s,” Ethan said, scooping one under each arm and carrying them back down the hall.

Robbie came out of the kitchen, munching a chip. Matt arrived last, and we went downstairs to the basement, which had been finished to be a large family room.

“Is Sharon still out of town?” I asked, helping Ethan push back furniture.

“Yeah. In Philly,” he said. He pushed one of his straggly ringlets out of his eyes.

Once the furniture was out of the way, Cal started unpacking his leather satchel, taking out his Wiccan tools.

“Hey, Jenna,” Matt said, since she had ignored him upstairs. His usual pressed appearance had taken a downslide in the last few days: his hair was no longer brushed smooth, his clothes looked less carefully chosen.

Jenna met his gaze squarely, then turned away from him with no expression on her face. Matt flinched. I’d always thought of Jenna as being kind of needy and dependent on Matt, but now I was beginning to suspect that she’d always been the stronger one.

“Last Wednesday, I asked you to choose your correspondences,” Cal said as we settled on the floor around him. “Did anyone have any success?”

Jenna nodded. “I think I did,” she said, her voice firm.

“Let us have it,” said Cal.

“My metal is silver,” she said, showing us a silver bracelet on her wrist. “My stone is rose quartz. My season is spring. My sign is Pisces. My rune is Neid.” She lifted her hand and drew Neid in the air. “That’s all I have.”

“That’s plenty,” said Cal. “Good work.Your rune, standing for delay and the need for patience, is very apt.”

He fished in his satchel and took out a squarish chunk of rose quartz the size of an egg. It was pale pink, mostly clear, not milky, and inside were cracks and flaws that looked like broken windowpanes, trapped inside. I thought it looked like pink champagne, frozen in time. Cal handed it to Jenna. “This is for you.You’ll use it in your spells.”

“Thanks,” Jenna said, looking deeply into it, pleased.

“Your rune, Neid, will also become important. For one thing, you can use it as a signature, either on your spells or even in notes and letters.”

Jenna nodded.

I sat forward, excited. This was cool stuff—this was what I really loved about Wicca. In my Wicca books the use of quartz in various spells had come up again and again. It had been used religiously for thousands of years. In particular, pink or rose quartz was used to promote love, peace, and healing. Jenna could use all three.

“Robbie?” Cal asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Well, I’m a Taurus, my rune is Eoh, the horse, which also symbolizes travel or change of some kind. My metal is copper. My herb is mugwort. My stone is emerald.”

“Interesting.” Cal grinned at us. “This is really interesting. You guys are doing a great job of feeling your way to your essences. Robbie, I didn’t even associate emerald with you, but as soon as you said it, I thought, yeah, of course.” He reached into his bag, rejecting several stones, then brought one out.

“This is a rough emerald,” he said, holding it toward Robbie. It was about the size of a pat of butter, a dark, greenish lump in his hand. Robbie took it. “Don’t get excited—it’s not gem quality. No jeweler would buy it from you. Use it in good health,” said Cal, and I was oddly reminded of taking communion at church. Cal went on, “Emerald is good for attracting love and prosperity, to strengthen the memory, to protect its user, and also to improve the eyesight.”

Robbie turned and wiggled his eyebrows at me. Until about a month ago, he’d worn thick glasses. My healing potion had had the unexpected side benefit of perfecting his vision.

“So do you just have every stone possible in that bag?” Ethan asked.

Cal grinned. “Not every one. But I have one or two of the most typical.”

I had been wondering the same thing myself.

“Okay, Matt?” Cal prompted

Matt swallowed. “I’m a Gemini,” he said. “My rune is Jera. My stone is tourmaline.”

“Jera, for karma, a cyclical nature, the seasons,” said Cal. “Tourmaline.”

“The kind with two colors,” Matt said.

“They call that watermelon tourmaline,” said Cal, and took one out. It looked like a hexagonal piece of quartz, about an inch and a half long and as thick as a pencil. It was green on one end, clear in the middle, and pink on the other end. Cal handed it to Matt, saying, “Wearing this balances the user. Use it in good health.”

Matt nodded and turned the stone over in his hand.

“I can go next,” said Ethan. “I know what Sharon’s are—should I tell them to you?”

Cal shook his head. “She can tell us at the next circle or at school.”

“Okay, then, mine,” said Ethan. “I’m a Virgo. My season is summer. My stone is brown jasper. I don’t have a plant or anything. My favorite jellybean flavor is sour apple.”

“Okay,” said Cal, smiling. “Good. I think I have a piece of brown jasper . . . hang on.” He looked at the stones in his bag and pulled out one that looked like solidified root beer. “Here you go. Brown jasper is especially good for helping you keep your feet on the ground.”

Ethan nodded, looking at his stone.

“I think for your rune, you should use . . .” Cal considered Ethan thoughtfully while we all waited. “Beorc. For new beginnings, a rebirth. Sound okay?”

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “Beorc. Cool.”

Cal turned to me with a special look.“Last but not least?”

“I’m on the Scorpio-Sagittarius cusp,” I said. “Mostly Sagittarius. My herb is thyme. My rune is Othel, which stands for an ancestral home, a birthright. My stone is bloodstone.”

I might have been the only one to see Cal’s pupils dilate and then contract in an instant. Was my choice wrong? Maybe I should have run my ideas by him first, I thought uncertainly. But I had been so sure.

Cal let a stone drop unseen into his bag; I heard it click faintly. “Bloodstone,” he said, trying it out. I met his gaze as he looked at me. “Bloodstone,” he repeated.

“What are its properties?” Jenna asked.

“It’s very old,” said Cal. “It’s been used in magick for thousands of years to give strength to warriors in battle, to help women through childbirth. They say it can be used to break ties, open doors, even knock down barriers.” He paused, then reached into his bag again, rummaged around, and pulled out a large, dark green stone, smooth and polished. When he tilted it this way and that, I could see the dark, blood-colored flecks of red within its darkness.

“Bloodstone,” repeated Cal, examining it. “Its ruling planet is Mars, which lends it qualities of strength, healing, protection, sexual energy, and magick involving men.”

Jenna grinned at me, and I felt my cheeks flush.

“It’s a fire stone,” Cal went on, “and its associated color is red. In spells you could use it to increase courage, magickal power, wealth, and strength.” His eyes caught mine. “Very interesting.” He tossed me the stone, and I caught it. It felt smooth and warm in my hand. I had come across another bloodstone among the things in Maeve’s toolbox. Now I had two.

“Okay, now let’s make a circle,” said Cal, standing. He quickly drew a circle, and we all helped cast it: purifying it, invoking the four elements and the Goddess and God, linking hands within it. Without Sharon there were only six of us. I looked around and realized that I was starting to feel like these people were my second family.

Each of us held our stones in our right palm, sandwiched with the left palm of the person next to us. We moved in our circle, chanting. Looking forward to the rush of ecstatic energy I always got in a circle, I moved around and around, watching everyone’s faces. They were intent, focused, perhaps more so than during other circles: their stones must be at work. Jenna looked lovely, ethereal as delight crossed her features. Wonderingly she glanced at me, and I smiled at her, waiting for my own magick to take me away.

It didn’t. It was a while before I realized I was deliberately holding it down, not letting it go, not letting myself give in to the magick. It occurred to me: I didn’t feel safe.There was no reason I could think of not to, but I simply didn’t. My own magick stayed dampened, not the enormous outpouring of power that it usually was. I let out a deep breath and put my trust in the Goddess. If there was danger here that I couldn’t see, I hoped she would take care of me.

Gradually Cal took us down, and as we slowed, my coven members looked at me expectantly. They were used to me having to ground myself after a circle, and this time, when I shook my head, they seemed surprised. Cal gave me a questioning look, but I just shrugged.

Then Jenna said, “I feel kind of sick.”

“Sit down,” Cal said, moving to her side. “Ground yourself. All of you may feel some increased sensations because of your stones and the inner work you did over the week.”

Cal helped Jenna sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor, her forehead touching the floor, both hands out flat. He took her chunk of pink quartz and placed it on the back of her slender neck, exposed because her ash blond hair had slipped down on both sides.

“Just breathe,” he said gently, keeping one hand on her back. “It’s okay.You’re just getting in touch with your magick.”

Robbie sat down, too, and assumed the same position. This was amazing. The others were finally picking up on the kind of magickal energy I’d been overwhelmed by since the beginning. Forgetting about my own weird feelings, I met Cal’s eyes and smiled. Our coven was coming together.

An hour later Cal ended the circle. I stood and got my coat from the hall.

“It was a great circle tonight, guys,” Cal said, and everyone nodded enthusiastically. “School starts again Monday, and we’ll all be distracted again, so let’s try to keep focused. I think you’ll find it’s easier to do now that you have your working stones. And just remember, we have a rival coven, Kithic. Kithic is working with witches who are untrustworthy, who have an agenda. For your own sake, I want you all to stay away from anyone associated with them.”

I looked at Cal in surprise. He hadn’t mentioned his intention of telling us this, but I supposed it was only natural, given the connection between Hunter and Sky, Sky and Kithic.

“We can’t just be friends with them?” asked Jenna.

Cal shook his head. “It might not be safe. Everyone, be careful, and if anything feels strange or you feel things you can’t figure out, please tell me right away.”

“You mean like spells?” Ethan asked with a frown. “Like if they put spells on us?”

“I don’t think they will,” Cal said quickly, raising his hands. “I’m just saying be alert and talk to me about everything and anything, no matter how small.”

Robbie looked impassively at Cal. I doubted he planned to quit seeing Bree. Matt looked completely depressed—he didn’t seem to have a choice about seeing Raven or not: she wanted to see him, and so far he hadn’t been able to say no.

Cal and I went out to the car, and I was silent with thought.

On Sunday morning I realized that one week ago today I had turned seventeen. Looking back, it had been an intensely unhappy day: trying to appear normal while reliving the horror of watching Hunter go over the ledge, the dismay over Cal’s wounds, the temporary loss of my magick. This week was going better. Thank the Goddess and God, Hunter was alive. I felt reassured by knowing that he wasn’t inherently evil—and neither was I. Yet there were still huge, unresolved issues in my life. Questions about Cal and the things he might or might not be hiding from me, questions about myself and the depth of my commitment to Cal, to Wicca itself ...

I went to church with my family because I knew my mother would make a fuss if I tried to duck out for the second week in a row, and I just wasn’t ready to fight that battle. I sleepwalked through the service, my mind churning ideas incessantly. I felt I was two people: Catholic and not Catholic. Part of my family and not part of my family. In love with Cal, yet holding back. Loathing Hunter and yet full of joy that he was alive. My whole life was a mishmash, and I was being divided in two.