The Coven Read online

Silence.

  Inside me, a wall came crashing down, and I saw what lay

  behind it: a whole world I had never dreamed of, a world in

  which I was adopted, not biologically related to my ramify. My

  throat closed and my stomach clenched, and I was afraid I was

  going to throw up. But I had to know.

  I pushed past Mary K. into the hallway, then thundered

  down the steps two at a time. I tore around the corner, hearing

  my parents on the steps behind me. In the family office I

  yanked open my dad's files, where he keeps things like

  insurance papers, our passports, their marriage license … birth

  certificates.

  Breathing hard, I flipped through files on car insurance,

  the house's AC system, our new water heater. My file read

  Morgan. I pulled it out just as my parents came into the office.

  "Morgan! Stop it!" said Dad.

  Ignoring him, I rifled through immunization records,

  school reports, my social security card.

  There it was. My birth certificate. I picked it up and

  scanned it Birthday, November 23. Correct Weight, eight

  pounds, ten ounces.

  My mom reached around me and snatched the birth

  certificate out of my hand. As if in a slapstick movie, I snatched

  it back. She held tight with both hands, and the paper ripped.

  Dropping to my knees, I hunched over my half on the

  floor, protecting it till I could read it. Age of mother: 23. No.

  That was wrong because Mom had been thirty before the had

  me. Then the edges of the paper grew cloudy as my eyes

  locked onto four words: Mother's name: Maeve Riordan.

  I blinked, reading it again and again at the speed of light

  Maeve Riordan. Mother's name:Maeve Riordan.

  Mechanically I read down to the bottom of my torn page,

  expecting to see my mom's real name, Mary Grace Rowlands,

  somewhere. Anywhere.

  Shocked, I looked up at my mother. She seemed to have

  aged ten years in the last half hour. My dad, behind her, was

  tight-lipped and silent.

  I held up the paper, my brain misfiring. "What does this

  mean?" I asked stupidly.

  My parents didn't answer, and I stared at them. My fears

  came crashing down on me in hard waves. Suddenly I couldn't

  bear to be with them. I had to get away. Scrambling to my feet

  I rushed from the room, colliding with Mary k., almost knocking

  her down. The torn scrap of paper fluttered from my fingers as

  I pushed through the kitchen door and grabbed the keys to my

  car. I raced outside as if the devil were chasing me.

  3. Find Me

  May 14, 1977

  Going to school is more a bother these days than anything

  else. It's spring, everything's blooming. I'm out gathering

  luibh—plants--for my spells, and then I have to get to school

  and learn English. What for? I live in Ireland. Anyway, I'm

  fifteen now, old enough to quit. Tonight's a full moon, so I'll do

  a scrying spell to see the future. I hope it will tell me whether I

  should stay in school or no. Scrying is hard to control, though.

  There's something else I want to scry for: Angus. Is he

  my muirn beatha dan? On Beltane he pulled me behind the

  straw man and kissed me and said he loves me. I thought I

  liked David O'Hearn. But he's not one of us—not a blood witch—

  and Angus is. For each of us there's only one other they should

  be with: their muirn beatha dan. For Ma, it was Da. Who is

  mine? Angus says it's him. If it's him, I have no choice, do I?

  To scry: I don't use water overmuch—water is the easiest

  but also the least reliable. You know, a shallow bowl of clear

  water, gaze at it under the open sky or near a window. You'll

  see things easily enough, but it's wrong so ofter, I think it's

  just asking for trouble.

  The best way to scry is with an enchanted leug, like

  bloodstone or hematite, or a crystal, buy these are hard to lay

  your hands on. They give the most truth, but these are hard to

  lay your hands on. They give the most truth, but brace yourself

  for things you might not want to see or know. Stone scrying is

  good for seeing things you might not want to see or know.

  Stone scrying is good for seeing things as they are happening

  someplace else, like checking on a loved one or an enemy in

  battle.

  I scry with fire, usually. Fire is unpredictable. But I'm

  made of fire, we are one, and so she speaks to me. With fire

  scrying. If I see something in can be past, present, or future. Of

  course the future stuff is only one possible future. But what I

  see in fire is true, as true as can be.

  I love the fire.

  --Bradhadair

  I ran across the frost-stiffened grass, which crunched

  lightly under my slippers. The front door opened behind me,

  but I was already sliding onto the freezing vinyl front seat of

  my white 71 Valiant, Das Boot, and cranking the engine.

  "Morgan!" my dad yelled as I squealed out of our

  driveway, the car lurching like a boat on rough waters. Then I

  roared forward, watching my parents on our front lawn in my

  rearview mirror. Mom was sinking to the ground; Dad was

  trying to hold her up. I burst into tears as I wheeled too fast

  onto Riverdale.

  Sobbing, I dashed my tears away with one hand, then

  wiped my nose on my sleeve. I turned on Das Boots heater, but

  of course it took forever for the engine to warm up.

  I was turning onto Bree's street before I remembered

  that we were no longer friends. If she hadn't left those books

  on my porch, I wouldn't know I was adopted. If Cal hadn't

  come between us, she would never have left the books on my

  porch.

  I cried harder, shaking with sobs, and spun into a sloppy

  U-turn right before I reached her driveway. Then I hit the gas

  and drove, my only destination to be away, away,

  The next time my vision cleared, I had managed to fish a

  battered box of tissues from beneath the front seat. Damp,

  crumpled ones littered the passenger side and covered the

  floor. I had ended up heading north, out of town. The road

  followed a low valley, and early fog clung heavily to the asphalt

  Das Boot plowed through it like a brick thrown through clouds.

  In the distance I saw a large, dark shadow of to the side of the

  road. It was the willow oak that we had parked under just last

  night, for Samhain. Where I had parked the first time I did a

  circle with Cal, weeks before. When magick had come into my

  life. Without thinking, I swung my car off the road and

  bumped across the field, rolling to a stop beneath the oak's

  low-hanging branches. Here I was hidden by fog; by the tree. I

  turned off my engine, leaned against the steering wheel, and

  tried to stop crying.

  Adopted. Every instance, every example of my being

  different from my family reared up In my face and mocked me.

  Yesterday they had been only family jokes-how the three of

  them are larks and I'm a night owl, how they're unnaturally

  cheerful and I'm grumpy. How Mom and Mary K. are curvy and

 
; cute and I'm thin and Intense. Today those jokes caused waves

  of pain as I remembered them one by one.

  "Damn it! Damn It! Damn it!" I shouted, banging my fists

  against the hard metal steering wheel. "Damn It! I whacked

  the wheel until my hands were numb, until I had gone through

  every curse I knew, until my throat was raw.

  Then I wept again, lying down in the front seat I don't

  know how long I was there, cocooned in my car in the mist.

  From time to time I turned on the heater to stay warm. The

  windows fogged and steamed with my tears.

  Gradually my sobs degenerated into shaky hiccups and

  the occasional shudder. Oh, Cal, I thought. I need Cat As soon

  as I thought that, a rhyme came into my head: In my mind I

  see you here. In my pain I need you near, find me, tract me,

  where I be. Come here, come here, now to me.

  I didn't know where it came from, but by now I was

  getting used to the arrival of strange thoughts. I felt calmer

  hearing it, so I said It over and over again. I draped my arm

  over my eyes, praying desperately I would wake up In bed at

  home to find it had all been a nightmare.

  Minutes later I jumped when someone tapped on the

  passenger-side window. My eyes snapped open, and I sat up,

  then cleared a space on the glass to see Cal, looking sleepy and

  rumpled and amazingly beautiful.

  "You called?" he said, and my heart filled with sunlight

  "Let me in—it's freezing out here."

  It worked. I thought in awe. I called him with my

  thoughts. Magick.

  I opened the door and moved over. He slid onto the front

  seat next to me. and it was amazingly natural to reach out, to

  feel his arms come around me.

  "What's the matter?" he said, his voice muffled against

  my hair. “What's going on?”He held me away from him and

  searched my tear-blotched face with his eyes.

  “I'm adopted!" I blurted out "This morning I told my mom

  that I'm a blood witch, so she must be. and my dad. and my

  sister. They said no, It wasn't true. So I ran downstairs to see

  my birth certificate, and it had another women's name--not my

  mother's."

  I started crying spin, even though I was embarrassed to

  have him see me like this. Ha pulled me closer and held my

  head to his shoulder. It was so comforting that I stopped

  crying again almost Immediately.

  “Thats a hard way to find out.” He kissed my temple, and

  a tiny shiver of pleasure raced up my spine. It's a miracle I

  thought: He still loves me, even today. It wasn't a dream.

  He pulled back, and we looked at each other In the hazy

  light I couldn't get over how beautiful ha was. His skin was

  smooth and tan. even in November. His hair was thick beneath

  my fingers, dark and streaked with warm shades the color of

  walnuts. His eyes ware surrounded by blunt, black lashes, with

  irises of a gold so fiery, they almost seamed to radiate heat.

  I felt self-conscious as I realized ha was examining me

  the same way I examined him. A tiny smile quirked the corner

  of his lips. "Left in a hurry, did your?”

  That was when I realized I was still in my oversize

  football jersey and an ancient pair of my dad's long johns,

  complete with flap in front. A large pair of brown, furry bear-

  feet slippers were on my feet. Cal reached down and tickled

  their claws. I thought about the silky matching outfits that

  Bree wears to sleep in, and with a pang and an indrawn breath

  I remembered she'd told me that she and Cat had gone to bed.

  I searched his eyes, wondering if it was true, wondering if I

  could bear knowing for sure.

  But he was here now. With me.

  "You're the best thing I've seen all morning”Cal said

  softly, stroking my arm. "I'm glad you called me. I missed you

  last night, after I went home."

  I looked down, thinking of him lying in his big, romantic

  bed, with curtains fluttering and candles flickering all around.

  He had been thinking of me as he lay there.

  "Listen—how did you know how to call me? Did you read

  about it in a book?"

  "No," I said, thinking back. "I don't think so. I was just

  sitting here, miserable, and I thought if you were here, I'd feel

  better, and then this little rhyme came into my head, so I said

  it"

  "Huh," Cal said thoughtfully "Was I not supposed to”I

  asked, confused "Sometimes things just come into my head like

  that" "No, its okay," said Cal. "It just means you're strong You

  have ancestral memories of spells. Not every witch dose.”He

  nodded, thinking.

  "So tell me more," he said. “Your parents never told you

  about this before, your being adopted?” He kept his arm on the

  back of the seat, smoothing my heir and rubbing my neck.

  "No." I shook my head. "Never. And you'd think they

  would have—I'm so different from them.”

  Cal cocked his head, looking at me. "I've never met your

  folks" he said. "But you don't look much like your sister, that's

  true. Mary K. looks sweet" He smiled. "She's pretty."

  A hot jealousy started to burn in my chest.

  "You don't look sweet," Cal went on. "You look serious.

  Deep. Like you're thinking. And you're more striking than

  pretty. You're the kind of girl that you don't notice is beautiful

  until you get real close" His voice trailed off, and he brought his

  head closer to mine. "And then all of a sudden it hits you" he

  whispered "And you think. Goddess, make her mine ."

  His lips touched mine again, and my thoughts whirled I

  wrapped my arms around Cat's shoulders and kissed him as

  deeply as I knew how, pulling him closer. All I wanted was to

  be with him, to never be apart.

  Minutes passed in which I heard only our breathing our

  lips coming together and parting, the crinkle of the vinyl seat

  as we moved to be closer. Soon Cal was tying on top of me, his

  weight pressing me into the seat. His hand was stroking up and

  down my side, along my ribs and curving around my hip. Then

  It was under the hem of my jersey, warm against my breast

  and shock waves went through me. "Stop!" I said, almost

  afraid "Wait" My voice seemed to echo In the quiet car.

  Instantly Cal pulled his hand away. He held himself up, looking

  Into my eyes, then leaned back against the drivers door. He

  was breathing fast.

  I was mortified. You idiot, I thought He's almost eighteen!

  He's definitely had sex. Maybe even with Bree, a tiny voice

  added.

  I shook my head. "Sorry," I said, trying to sound casual.

  "It was just a surprise."

  "No, no, I'm sorry," he said. He reached out and took my

  hand, and I was mesmerized by its warmth, its strength. "You

  call me here, and I jump on you. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry.''

  He raised my fingers to his mouth and kissed them. "The thing

  is, I've been wanting to kiss you ever since I met you." He

  smiled slightly.

  I calmed down. "I've wanted to kiss you, too," I admitted.

  He smiled. "My witch,
" he said, running a finger down my

  cheek, leaving a thin trail of heat "Now, how did you tell your

  mother that you're a blood witch?"

  I sighed. 'This morning she found a pile of my Wicca

  books, magick books, on the front porch. She stormed into my

  room, yelling at me, saying they were blasphemous." I sounded

  more together than I felt remembering that awful scene. "I

  thought she was being so hypocritical—I mean, if I'm a blood

  witch, then she and my dad would have to be, too. Right?"

  "Pretty much," said Cal. "Definitely, with someone who

  has powers as strong as yours, both your parents would have

  to be."

  I frowned. ''What about only one parent?"

  "An ordinary man and a female witch can't conceive a

  baby," Cal explained "A male witch can get an ordinary woman

  pregnant, but it's a conscious thing. And their baby would have

  very weak powers at best, or possibly none at all. Not like you."

  I felt like I had accomplished something: I was a powerful

  witch."Okay,”Cal said "Now, why were your books on the front

  porch? Were you hiding them?”

  "Yes," I said bitterly. "At Bree's house. This morning she

  left them on my porch. Because you and I kissed last night."

  "What?" Cal asked, a dark expression crossing his face.

  I shrugged. "Bree really . . . wanted you. Wants you. And

  when you kissed me last night, I know she felt that I had

  betrayed her." I swallowed and looked out the window."l did

  betray her," I said quietly." I knew how she felt about you."

  Cal s eyes dropped. He picked up a long strand of my hair

  and twined it around his hand, ewer and over. "How do you feel

  about me?”he asked after a moment.

  Last night he had told me he loved me. I looked at him,

  seeing past him to the thin November sunlight that was

  burning away the fog. I breathed deeply, trying to slow the

  sudden, rapid patter of my pulse. "I love you,”I said. My voice

  came out a husky whisper.

  Cal glanced up and caught my gaze. His eyes were very

  bright. “I love you, too. I'm sorry that Bree's hurt. but just

  because she has feelings for me doesn't mean we're going to

  be together."

  Did that stop you from sleeping with her? I almost asked

  him, but I couldn't quite bring myself to. I wasn't sure I realty

  wanted to know.

  "And I'm sorry Bree is taking it out on you," he said. Ha

  paused. "So your mom found the books and yelled. You thought