The Coven Read online

pried my fingers away from my face, and when she did, I saw

  Bree, standing over her, peering at me In alarm, a horrified

  expression on her face.

  I looked at her, trying not to swallow blood. Her mouth

  opened, and silently she said, "I'm sorry." She looked so much

  like her old self for a minute that I almost felt happy. Then all

  of a sudden the shock subsided, and my face was filled with

  pain. "Are you all right?" someone asked.

  "Um " I mumbled, putting my hands up to my nose.

  "Hurts."

  "Okay, Morgan," said Ms. Lew. "Can you stand up? Let's

  get you to my office so we can put some ice on it. I think we'd

  better call your mom." She helped me up and called, "Get back

  to the game, girls. Bettina, get some paper towels and wipe

  that blood up so someone doesn't slip on it Ms. Warren, see me

  in my office after class."

  I cast a last look at Bree as I left Bree looked back at me,

  but suddenly every remnant of friendship or emotion was gone,

  replaced by calculation. It made my heart sink, and tears filled

  my eyes.

  When Mom came to get me, she was still in her work

  clothes. Clucking with worry, she took me to the emergency

  room, where they x-rayed my face. My nose was broken, and

  my lip needed one tiny stitch. Everything was swollen, and I

  looked like a Halloween mask.

  It had come to this, between me and Bree.

  17. The New Coven

  April 14, 1983

  My peas are coming up nicely—I thought I might have put

  them in too early. They're a symbol of my new life: I can't

  believe they're growing on their own so strongly, without

  magickal help. Sometimes the urge to get in tough with the

  Goddess is so strong, I ache with it—it's like a pain, something

  trying to get out. But that part of my life is over, and all I have

  from that time is my name. And Angus.

  We have a new addition to our household: a gray-and-

  white kitten. I've named her Bridget. She's a funny little thing,

  with extra toes on each paw and the biggest purr you ever

  heard. I'm glad to have her.

  --M.R.

  That afternoon, as I lay in bed with an ice pack on my

  face, the doorbell rang. I immediately sensed that it was Cal.

  My heart thumped painfully. I listened as he spoke to my mom.

  I focused my attention, but I could still barely make out their

  words.

  "Well, I don't know," I heard Mom say.

  "For Pete's sake, Mom. I'll stay the whole time and chaperon

  them," said Mary K., much louder. She must have been

  standing right at the bottom of the steps. Then footsteps

  sounded on the stairs. I watched nervously as my door opened.

  Mom came in first, presumably to make sure I was

  properly dressed and not, say, wearing a sexy, see-through

  negligee. In fact, I was wearing stretched-out gray

  sweatpants, an undershirt of my dad's, and a white sweatshirt.

  Mom had helped me wash the blood out of my hair, but I

  hadn't dried it or anything like that It hung loose in long damp

  ropes. Basically, I looked as awful as I had ever looked in my

  life. Cal came into my room, and his presence made it seem

  small and young. Note to self: Redecorate.

  He gave me a big smile and said,"Darling!"

  I couldn't help laughing, though it hurt and I put my hand

  to my face and said,"Ungh—doan make me laugh."

  As soon as Mom saw I was decent she left, even though

  she was obviously uncomfortable about my having a boy in my

  room."Doesn't she look great?" Mary K. said. "Too bad

  Halloween's over. I bet by Thursday everything will be yellow

  and green." I noticed she was holding a white teddy bear

  wearing a heart-shaped bib.

  "For me?" I asked.

  Mary K. shook her head, looking embarrassed. "It's from

  Bakker."

  I nodded. Bakker had been sending flowers and leaving

  notes on our porch all day. He'd called several times, and when

  I had answered the phone, he had apologized to me. I knew

  Mary K. was weakening.

  She perched in my desk chair, and I gave her a look.

  "Don't you have homework?"

  "I promised to chaperon," she objected. Then, seeing my

  expression, she held up her hands. "Okay, okay, I'm going."

  As the door closed behind her I looked at Cal. "I didn't

  want you to see me like this." Because of the swelling in my

  nose, my voice sounded clogged and distant

  His face grew solemn. "Tamara told me about what

  happened. Do you think she did it on purpose?”

  I thought of Bree's face, of the fright in her eyes when

  she saw what she'd done to me.

  “It was an accident,”I said, and he nodded.

  “I brought you some stuff.” He held up a small bag.

  “What?”I asked eagerly.

  “This, for starters,”Cal said, taking out a small potted

  plant. It was silverly gray, with cut, feathery leaves.

  “Artemesia,”I said, recognizing it from one of my herb

  books. “It's pretty.”

  Cal nodded. “Mugwort. A useful plant. Also this,”He

  handed me a small vial/

  I read the label. “Arnica montana.”

  “It's a homeopathic medicine,”Cal explained. “I got it at

  the health-food store. It's for when you're had a traumatic

  injury. It's good for bruises, stuff like that.”He leaned closer.

  "I spelled It to help you heal faster," he whispered. "It's

  Just what the doctor ordered."

  I sank back gratefully on my pillows. "Cool."

  "One more thing," Cal said, taking out a bottle of Yoo-

  Hoo. "I bet you can't eat much, but a Yoo-Hoo can be sucked

  down with a straw. And it's got all the major food groups-dairy,

  fat, chocolate. You could say it's the perfect food."

  I laughed, trying not to move my face. "Thanks. You

  thought of everything."

  Mom called upstairs: "Dinner will be ready in five

  minutes." I rolled my eyes, and Cal smiled. "I can take a hint,"

  he said. He sat carefully on the edge of my bed and took my

  hand in both of his. I swallowed, feeling lost, wanting to hold

  him to me. Muirn beatha dan, I thought

  "Is there anything you want me to do for you?" he asked

  with quiet meaning. I knew he meant Do you want me to get

  back at Bree?

  I shook my head, feeling my face ache. "I don't think so,"

  I whispered. "Let it go."

  He regarded me evenly. "I'll let it go so far and no

  farther," he warned. "This sucks."

  I nodded, feeling very tired.

  "Okay, I'll get going. Call me later if you want to

  talk."

  He stood up. Then he very gently put his hands on my face,

  barely touching me with his fingertips. He closed his eyes and

  muttered words I didn't understand. Closing my eyes, I felt the

  heat from his fingers warm my face. As I breathed in, some of

  the pain dissipated.

  It took less than a minute, then he opened his eyes and

  stepped back. I felt much better.

  "Thanks," I said. "Thanks for coming." "I'll talk to you

  later," he said. Then he turned and
left my room.

  As I sank back down in bed my face felt lighter, less

  swollen. My head hurt less. I opened the arnica and popped

  four of the tiny sugar pills under my tongue. Then I lay quietly,

  feeling the pain wash out of me.

  That night before I went to sleep, both my black eyes

  were almost gone, the swelling had gone way down, and I felt

  like I could breathe through my nose.

  I stayed home from school the next day, although I

  looked tons better, except for the ugly black stitch on my lip.

  At two-thirty that afternoon I called Mom at work and told

  her I was going over to Tamara's house to pick up some

  homework assignments.

  "Are you sure you feel up to it?" she asked.

  "Yeah, I feel almost fine," I said. "I'll be back before

  dinner."

  "Okay, then. Drive carefully."

  "I will."

  I hung up the phone, got my keys and my coat, put on my

  clogs, and set off toward school. It's pretty much impossible to

  hide a huge white whale like Das Boot, but I parked on a side

  street two blocks away, where I thought I could see Bree's car

  pass as she left school. I could have waited for her at home,

  but I wasn't sure she'd go straight there.

  It wasn't like I had a totally fleshed out plan. Basically I

  was hoping to confront Bree, to hash everything out In the best

  of all possible worlds, it would have a positive result I felt like I

  had reached a breakthrough with my parents, and Mary K. and

  I had bonded again after the Bakker incident Now I wanted to

  get things straight with Bree. The habits of a lifetime aren't

  easy to erase, and I still thought of her as my best friend.

  Hating her was too much to bear. The scene in gym showed

  how desperately we needed to work things out

  But it wasn't only that I had other reasons for wanting to

  mend things between us, too. Magick was clarity. According to

  my books, to work the best magick was to see the most clearly.

  If I lived with an ongoing feud in my life, it could seriously

  hamper my ability to do magick.

  I almost missed Bree's car as it passed the corner at the

  end of the block Quickly I started up mine and crept slowly

  behind her, as far back as I could.

  Luckily Bree headed straight home. I knew the way well

  enough that I could hang back at a great distance, staying

  behind other cars. Once she had pulled into her driveway and

  parked, I pulled over myself at the very end of her block,

  behind a big maroon minivan, and shut off my engine.

  Just as I was about to get out, though, Raven pulled up in

  her battered black Peugeot Bree ran back out of her house.

  I waited. The two girls talked for a while on the sidewalk,

  then headed to Raven's car and got in. Raven roared off,

  leaving a trail of foul exhaust behind her.

  I was nonplussed. This hadn't been in my plan. Right now

  I was supposed to be talking to Bree, possibly arguing with

  her. Raven hadn't figured into it Where were they going?

  A sudden fierce curiosity took hold of me, and I started

  my car again. After four blocks I caught sight of them once

  more.

  They headed north, out of town on Westwood. I followed,

  already suspecting where they were headed.

  When they reached the cornfields at the north of town,

  where our coven had had its first meeting, Raven pulled off

  onto the road's shoulder and parked.

  Slowing, I waited until they had disappeared into the

  recently stripped cornfield, then drove to the other side and hid

  Das Boot under the huge willow oak. Though the branches

  were almost bare, its trunk was thick and the ground dipped

  slightly so that no one casually glancing over would spot my

  car.

  Then I hurried across the road and began to pick my way

  through the crumpled, messy remains of what had been a tall

  field of golden feed corn.

  I couldn't see Raven and Bree ahead of me, but I knew

  where they were going: to the old Methodist cemetery where

  we had celebrated Samhain just ten days ago. Ten days ago,

  when Cal had kissed me in front of the coven and Bree and I

  had become true enemies. It felt like much longer ago than

  that I stepped across the trickling stream and headed uphill

  Into a stand of old hardwood trees. I went more slowly, casting

  my senses, listening for their voices. I didn't really know what

  I was doing and felt kind of like a stalker. But I had been

  wondering about their new coven. I couldn't resist finding out

  what they were up to.

  When I reached the edge of the graveyard, I saw them

  ahead, standing by the stone sarcophagus that had served as

  our altar on Samhain. The two of them stood there, not talking,

  end it came to me: They were waiting for someone.

  I sank down on the damp, cold earth beside an ancient

  tombstone. My race ached a little, and the stitch in my lip was

  itching. I wished I had remembered to take more arnica or

  Tylenol before I left the house.

  Bree rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Raven kept

  pushing back her dyed black hair. They both looked nervous

  and excited.

  Then Bree turned and peered into the shadows. Raven

  grew very still, and my heart beat loudly in the silence.

  The person meeting them was a woman, or rather a girl,

  maybe a couple of years older than Raven. Maybe just a year.

  The more I looked at her, the younger she became.

  She was beautiful in an unusual, otherworldly kind of

  way. Fine blond hair shone starkly against her black leather

  motorcycle jacket, and she had very short, almost white bangs.

  Her cheekbones were high and Nordic, her mouth full and too

  wide for her race. But it was her eyes that seemed so

  compelling, even from far away. They were large and deep set

  and so black that they looked like holes, drawing light in and

  not letting it out again.

  She greeted Bree and Raven so quietly, I couldn't hear the

  murmur of her voice. She seemed to ask them a question, and

  her dark eyes darted here and there like negative spotlights

  raking the area.

  "No, no one followed us," I heard Bree say.

  "No way." Raven laughed. "No one comes out here."

  Still the girl looked around, her eyes flicking again and

  again to the tombstone I hid behind. If she was a witch, she

  might pick up on my presence. Quickly I closed my eyes, trying

  to shut everything down, focusing on becoming invisible, on

  trying to wrinkle the fabric of reality as little as possible. I am

  not here, I sent out into the world. I am not here. There Is

  nothing here. You see nothing, you hear nothing, you feel

  nothing. I repeated this smoothly again and again, and finally

  the three girls started talking again.

  Moving a centimeter at a time, I turned and faced them

  again.

  "Revenge?" the girl said, her voice rich and musical.

  "Yes," said Raven. "You see, there's..."

  A breeze rustled the trees just then, and her words were

&n
bsp; lost They were speaking so quietly that it was only by using my

  strongest concentration that I could hear them at all.

  "Dark magic," Raven said, and Bree looked at her with

  troubled eyes.

  "... to wither love," were the next words to float to me on

  the breeze. That was from the girl. I looked at her aura. Next to

  Bree's and Raven's darkness, she was made of pure light

  shining like a sword in the increasing shadows of the

  graveyard.

  "Their circle ... our new coven... a girl with power... Cal...

  Saturday nights, at different places..."

  They talked on, and my frustration grew at not being able

  to hear more. The sun went down quickly, as if a lamp had

  been dimmed, and I started to feel seriously chilly.

  I leaned against the tombstone. What did this mean? They

  had mentioned Cal's name. I figured the "girl with power" was

  me. What were they planning? I had to tell Cal.

  But there was no way to leave without their seeing me, so

  I was stuck on that damp ground, feeling my butt and legs go

  to sleep while my bruised face ached more and more.

  At last, after about forty endless minutes, the girl left

  silently the way she had come, with only her light hair visible

  when she stepped into the darkness beneath the trees. Bree

  and Raven walked back through the graveyard, passing within

  ten feet of me, and headed back out through the cornfield. A

  minute later I heard Raven's car belch and peel off, and two

  minutes after that its exhaust drifted to me on the evening

  breeze.

  I got up and brushed myself off, anxious to get home to

  take a hot, hot shower. The cornfields were now totally dark,

  and I felt weirded out by the creepy scene I had just

  witnessed. At one point I was sure I felt someone's

  concentrated stare on the back of my head, but when I whirled,

  nothing was there. Running back to my car, I jumped in,

  slamming and locking my door after me.

  My hands were so cold and stiff, it took me a second to

  get the key in the ignition, and then I popped on my headlights

  and did a fast U-turn on Westwood. I was scared and irritated,

  and my earlier thoughts of clearing things up with Bree now

  seemed naive, laughable.

  What were they planning? Were they really so angry with

  Cal and me that they would turn to dark magick? They were

  putting themselves in danger, making choices that were stupid

  and shortsighted.

  I swung into my own driveway, shaken and chilled to the