by Chelsea Luna
“It’s hard looking at you,” Vanessa said.
“What? Why?”
“You have the same emerald eyes as she did. Same shape, too. It’s kind of eerie.”
“Oh,” I said quietly. Vanessa had green eyes, too, but not as striking a green or as cat-like.
“Let’s see, shall we?” She tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. “You can move and break objects without any difficulty. That’s pretty impressive, because you’re only seventeen. Your levitation is getting better, but you have to keep practicing. The bigger the object, the harder it is to move.”
“Right.” I needed to absorb as much information as I could. “It makes me really dizzy and tired after I levitate anything.”
“That’s normal. You’ll get better at it. It requires a lot of energy to summon the amount of power it takes to do these…tricks. If you’re angry or excited, it’s much easier because you already have a significant amount of energy vibrating through your system. It’s harder to do if you’re just idly standing there.”
“Tricks?”
“Moving things, breaking things, levitating - basically all non-spell actions. Non-spell actions manifest because you physically make them. There is no need to cast a spell. No need to chant words, gather ingredients, that sort of thing.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. The image of an old croon stirring a green bubbling pot over the fire came to mind every time Vanessa said the word ‘spell.’
Vanessa flipped through the pages, her index finger running over the small scribble. “You’ll probably never use ninety-nine percent of the spells in this book. I’m trying to think of a good one to teach you that you may possibly use in your life.”
“Hey, Vanessa?” I scratched the fabric of my jeans.
“Hmmm?”
“Do you really have to leave? Christmas is only a few days away.” I wanted her to stick around for awhile. Maybe she could even help me get Emma out of her funk.
She looked up from the spell book. “I have to get back to the hospital. The staff is low and I didn’t think it would take this long for me to get everything settled up here.”
“I understand.”
“You are more than welcome to come to New Orleans whenever you want. Let me know when and I’ll send you a plane ticket.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it.”
“I know,” I said. “Maybe I will, in the spring.”
“You can even bring that cute boyfriend of yours.”
The idea of Peter and I visiting New Orleans for spring break was already forming in my mind. A new town. Warm weather. Cajun food.
“I think I found a good spell to teach you.” Vanessa turned the book around so I could see the yellowed page. The spell was ornately entitled, “En Puppetarium.”
“What’s that?”
“A type of compulsion.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Vanessa assured. “It’s a small spell that will make someone do as you say.”
“That sounds bad.” And dangerous.
Vanessa waived her hand in dismissal. “Say I wanted you to pick up the broom and finish sweeping the hallway. All I would have to do is cast this spell and you’d be merrily sweeping away.”
I would never, in a million years, use this spell, but I didn’t want to upset Vanessa.
“Okay, how do I do it?”
“This is the incantation, here.” Vanessa pointed to the bottom of the page. “This is what you’ll need to perform the spell. Just your basics - a candle, rosemary leaves, a cup of water and the two cementers.”
“Cementers?”
“That’s what binds the spell. In the example I gave, I would need a bristle from the broom and a hair or something of yours. An object from the person and an object from what you want them to do. If you wanted your dog to stop urinating on the carpet and go outside instead, then you’d need a piece of the dog’s hair or nail and a piece of grass. Very simple. Then you follow these instructions.”
“Could anybody do this? Like non-witches?” This spell would be disastrous if it fell into the hands of the wrong person. For example, Victor. Or Gamma. Or even Olivia. Actually, I didn’t see how this would be good for anyone.
“No. Each spell you ever come across can only be performed by a witch. It needs the power from within to jumpstart it. The fact that you are a full witch means you’ll have more… juice, I guess you’d say. It will be easier for you to manifest the necessary energy whenever you’re doing a spell.”
“How do you reverse it?”
Vanessa flipped the page. “If you do the basic spell, then the reversal is here. If you add stuff to make the spell more complicated, then the reversal gets a little more in depth. But that’s way past what we’re learning here. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you.”
“What?”
“When you spell someone - not just this spell, but any spell at all that has a specific impact on a person - a mark appears on the body for as long as the spell is intact.”
“What kind of mark?”
“A small spiral indentation on the skin only a few centimeters wide. It’s very discreet. And it can appear in different places - hidden, but not completely - behind the ear, between two toes, places like that. That’s how you can tell if someone has been spelled.”
“Have you ever used this spell?” I felt bad prying, but I had to know.
Vanessa smiled. “A few times. Nothing big, of course, but I did make Derek Andrews ask me out on a date when I was a senior at Hazel Cove High.” She laughed at her own admission. Her neck and cheeks flushed red. “It’s silly now, but at the time, it was a life or death situation. And I almost spelled Jana Humphrey so she wouldn’t win Prom Queen, but I decided against it.”
“Jana? Olivia’s oldest sister?”
“I forgot you two were friends. Jana and I were pretty close in high school. That’s why I decided not to spell her. I figured if I wasn’t Prom Queen, then she was the next best thing.”
“So that guy you were talking about, Derek? You could make him… love you?”
“Oh no, no, no. I forgot that you don’t even know the basics.” Vanessa set the spell book on the side table. “You can’t manipulate the two most fundamental emotions in the world with magic. Ever.”
“What are those?”
“Guess.”
“Um, love, obviously,” I said, flushing a little when I said the word. “And….”
She nodded for me to continue.
“Hate?”
“Right,” Vanessa said. “In a sense. It’s kind of a gray area. You can never make someone love you. It’s impossible. Sure you’ll come across love potions, but those are only temporary. The potion last as long as the fluid is in the system. And, of course, I made Derek Andrews ask me out on a date with my spell, but I couldn’t make him feel for me. That was up to me and how well our date went.”
“Okay,” I said trying to follow along.
She pulled the handkerchief out of her hair and shook her long waves out. “You can spell someone to be infatuated with you, but you must understand that it’s not the same as love. It’s simply obsession. And that, too, fades once the spell wears off.”
“I feel like I should be taking notes.”
“Don’t worry, it’s all sinking in. Now, hate is where it gets complicated.” Vanessa leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs.
“Just like love, you can’t make someone hate. It’s impossible. Those human emotions are too strong to replicate regardless of the strength of the magic. Likewise, you can make someone appear to be upset with another, but it’s not real hate and it’s only as temporary as the spell. Harmful spells are out there, but this little En Puppetarium spell is way out of that range.”
I leaned forward.
“Under this specific En Puppetarium spell, you cannot make a person harm another.” Vanessa tapped the open page on her lap. “Of course, you could amp up the spell, but th
at would be dark magic and, obviously, you would never do that.”
“Of course not.”
“Remember, there is a thin line between white magic and black magic.”
Something had been bugging me for awhile. “Do you remember when I told you about what I did to Simon the night Gamma attacked me?”
“I do.”
“Was that black magic? I guess it was a non-spell action, but I had no idea what I was doing. I just wanted them to leave me alone.”
Vanessa tapped her nails on the armrest. “I think you made his brain hemorrhage.”
“Oh, jeez.”
“Not intentionally, of course. But you focused all of your angry energy on him and, somehow, the power that you radiated towards him squeezed his brain. It was self defense. That’s all. You were protecting yourself.”
I sat back in my chair. Is that what happened to Grandma Claudia? Did someone - scratch that, some witch - squeeze her heart until she died, just like I’d squeezed Simon’s brain?
I shuddered. It was a possibility. But what about the mirror and the conjuring symbol? Vanessa said the symbol conjured spirits, not other witches. Could a spirit do the same thing? Was someone else in the house when Grandma Claudia was conjuring?
“What are you thinking?” Vanessa asked watching my face.
I quickly thought of something to ask. Vanessa didn’t know how Grandma Claudia died. As a doctor, Vanessa considered the autopsy report hard evidence. If the coroner said it was a heart attack, then that’s what she believed.
“I don’t know how I hurt Simon,” I said. “You should have seen the pain he was in. All of the blood streaming out of his ears and nose.” That image haunted my dreams. If I closed my eyes, I could still hear Simon’s screams.
“It was black magic because it was harmful to another, but listen to me, you’re not evil or bad or dangerous. You don’t perform dark magic. You’re a young girl who was cornered by a group of horrible men that were bent on killing you. You fought back. That’s it.” Vanessa’s eyes never left mine.
“I know,” I said quietly.
“Good. Do you have any more questions?”
This was my last shot. I had to ask her opinion. “Hypothetically speaking, let’s say a person was performing the conjuring spell that we were talking about last time. Would that person be considered evil?”
Vanessa threw me a sharp look. “It wouldn’t absolutely make that person evil. I’d need to know the reason why that person was conjuring. But, Alex, that conjuring symbol is definitely black magic. It really doesn’t get much darker than that.”
“Right.”
“Those spirits can’t be controlled. They’re the pure definition of evil,” Vanessa warned. “The question becomes - in our hypothetical case, of course - why would that person want to conjure something so evil?”
Vanessa hit the hammer on the nail. Why would Grandma Claudia want to conjure something so evil?
CHAPTER 8
It was finished.
Grandma Claudia’s house was closed. The keys were safely in the realtor’s hands and Vanessa was on a plane hundreds of miles in the air heading south for Louisiana. That chapter of my life was closed. It was time to open a new one. Easier said than done.
I was having a hard time with Grandma Claudia’s death. Spending time in her house and around her things was a way for me to hope that she’d walk through the door as if nothing happened. It was an irrational thought, I know. But now the house was gone and I only had Scooby and a couple of boxes of her possessions. It felt like there was nothing left to hold on to.
She was really gone.
Dying rays of the setting sun glared off the snow. I turned off Dogwood Avenue and onto my unfamiliar street. I didn’t see the car parked in front of my house until I pulled into the driveway. Blame it on the high snowdrifts or the glare of the sun. Heck, blame it on me not paying attention. Whatever the case, I wasn’t prepared to see the red Range Rover.
I slowly pulled the key out of the ignition. We hadn’t spoken since James said those terrible things to me at his locker. I wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation, but the curiosity of his appearance was eating at me. I grabbed the bags from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car.
I didn’t look in his direction, but I heard the car door shut.
“Alex?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for his onslaught. I didn’t want to see his beautiful doe-eyes dark with hate or that stony mask where he hid behind his emotions. So I kept my eyes closed when I turned to face him. I was in no mood for an argument. And, to be honest, I wasn’t sure if I could control my emotions. Or more importantly, my witchy emotions.
“Hmm?”
“Alex?”
“Yes?”
Footsteps sloshed through the snow. “Why do you have your eyes closed?”
His voice sounded normal. Somewhat like the old James. I peeked through one eye. Both of James’ eyebrows were raised high on his forehead. It didn’t look like he was going to bite my head off.
I ignored his question and cautiously opened the other eye. “Hi, James.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s cold out, huh?”
Mounds of endless snow covered every square inch of Hazel Cove. “It’s probably that whole northern Massachusetts thing at the end of December.”
“Right. Listen, I need to talk to you. Are you busy? I know I don’t deserve one, but will you give me a minute?”
“That depends. Are you here to see if they’ve killed me yet? If so, you can clearly see that the ole’ heart is still pumping. Unfortunate as that may be to you.”
James winced. “I am sorry. I really am. It was a horrible thing to say and I know I can never take it back. It’s not an excuse, but my life is turned upside down. I’m confused and angry and you were an easy target. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Okay.”
He looked surprised. “Really? That easy?”
The two bags were heavy in my hands. I was beginning a new chapter in my life, right? Why not start with forgiveness?
I shrugged. “You’ve been through a lot. I’ve been through a lot. And I did have some small shred of hope that you didn’t actually mean what you said.”
“I didn’t.”
“Good. Do you want to come in? It’s too cold to talk outside.”
“Uh, sure, but-”
“What? Peter? He’s not here. He’s working at the docks tonight,” I said over my shoulder.
“No, it’s not that. Is your mother home? Does she know what happened? Will she be angry to see me?”
“You don’t have to worry about Emma. Trust me.”
“Do you need help with those bags?”
“No, thanks.” My spell book was neatly tucked in the bottom of my bag. I was giving James the benefit of the doubt, but I wasn’t letting my guard down.
“Did you go Christmas shopping?”
“No, I need to. These are from my Aunt Vanessa. She can’t make it for Christmas.” I shifted the bags so I could unlock the door.
The house was warm. Too warm. Emma was sitting on the couch staring at the carpet. Scooby was curled into a ball beside her. He growled at James.
James shut the door behind him. His eyes drifted to my incoherent mother and then warily back at me.
“Give me a second. Why don’t you take a seat in the dining room?”
I put the bags in my room, coaxed Emma from the couch and into her bedroom, turned down the heat and pulled off my bulky sweater. It was strange to wear a tank top in the dead of winter, but it was at least eighty-five degrees inside.
James was sitting at the table looking around the house.
“It’s not much,” I said, glancing around the bare walls.
“No, I like it. It feels more-”
“Homey than the house on Apple Orchard?”
“Definitely.”
“How did you know where I lived?”
“Lucas to
ld me.” James spread his hands on the table. “Was that okay? I mean, for me to ask him?”
“Sure.” I found two bottled waters in the refrigerator and sat down at the table. I pushed the plastic container across the wood surface. “As long as you aren’t planning on hanging me or burning me at the stake.”
He winced again.
I smiled so he’d know I wasn’t serious.
“Oh.” The corner of James’ mouth turned up. “You’re joking.”
“I am.” I took a swallow of water.
“You’re taking everything pretty well.”
“I don’t really have an alternative.”
James lowered his eyes. “You’re not scared of me?”
“Nope.”
“Because you can do… magic?” He looked embarrassed.
“Magic helps, but the real reason I’m not scared of you is because you don’t want to hurt me. You never did. If that was the case, I’d be dead right now.”
James leaned forward. “I never wanted to hurt you. I had no idea about my dad, I promise. Obviously, he was a little off the deep end, but I never, in a million years thought….”
“Don’t feel bad. I had no idea about Victor either.”
“I didn’t know about any of it. I found out that night in the cemetery. Gamma. Witch hunting. The killings. I had no idea. I swear.”
“I believe you.”
“My dad told me to stay away from you the moment we saw you in the attendance office. I figured he had some beef with your father. Then my dad said he wanted to initiate me into his fraternity. He said it was a ritual for high school sons of Harvard legacies.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“You know, if your father went to Harvard then you’re considered a legacy. I thought it was some pre-college ritual. Then I’m sitting in a closet in the basement listening to them talk about…you and witches. It was so weird. So surreal.”
“Scary stuff, huh?”
“I felt so conflicted. Once I found out what was really happening, I hated my father for what he was doing. I kept telling myself he wouldn’t go through with it. The next thing I know, we’re in the cemetery and he’s choking you. It finally hit me that he wasn’t going to stop.”