The prospect of hanging out with Marly and Luke and discussing a trip up to visit Michael brightened my day considerably. The rest of the afternoon flew by, and as soon as we turned the closed sign on the door of the shop, I sprinted up the path to the house. It was comforting to find my familiar place at the kitchen counter, tearing greens and mixing dressing.
We lounged around the table on the deck, enjoying the waning light of day and the pleasant aftermath of a delicious dinner.
“Homecoming is the first weekend in November,” Marly said, leaning back in her chair and resting her feet in Luke’s lap. “There’s a rally on Friday night, the football game on Saturday and the dance Saturday night. I thought maybe if your parents agreed, you and I could drive up Friday morning and then plan on being home Sunday night. What do you think?”
The idea of three days with Michael made me giddy. “I think it sounds perfect,” I answered. “Are you sure it’s okay for you to be away from the nursery that weekend? And for me to miss work, too?”
Luke laughed. “I think we’ll make it without you two,” he replied dryly. “Although it will be a struggle... ”
Marly nudged him with her foot. “That’s enough out of you. You know you’re going to miss both of us, and you’re just jealous that we’re going away without you.”
Luke raised his hands in mock defeat. “Okay, you’ve got me. It’s just a brave front I’m putting on... ”
Marly giggled and rolled her eyes at him. “Ignore him, Tas. Yes, it’s fine for us to be away. I’ve arranged coverage for the shop, and my own work is running pretty smoothly right now. So you only need to worry about finding a dress for the dance and making sure you can miss school that Friday.”
“I’m sure I can work it out.” I knew most of my teachers would work with me so that missing one day wouldn’t hurt anything. Fleetingly I thought of Ms. Lacusta and just as quickly pushed her to the back of my mind. She would just have to understand.
“Tas, Marly told me about what happened the other day with Matt Pryce.” Luke shifted in his chair, absently running a hand over his wife’s bare feet. “I’m sorry that happened. I want you to know that I won’t stand for him coming into the nursery and treating you like that. From now on, if he does come into the shop, just let someone else wait on him. Worst case, call Marly or me.”
I felt the genuine concern and resolute protectiveness coming from both Marly and Luke, and it warmed me. I knew that they were worried, and it would have been easy to let them stand between me and the Reverend Pryces of the world.
“Thanks.” I reached across the table and laid my hand on Marly’s. “Really. I appreciate it. But I’m okay. I don’t intend to let him get the best of me. I’m tougher than you think.” I tried to throw some bravado behind my words, but I saw Michael’s parents exchange looks, and I heard their doubtful thoughts.
“I think,” Luke began, choosing his words carefully, “that we worry how Pryce’s words might affect you. We’re concerned that he might make you... feel uncomfortable about your gift.”
I didn’t answer right away. Marly turned her hand over and held mine. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her empathy.
“Actually, I’ve been second-guessing a lot of things lately,” I said. “Cara isn’t speaking to me, in large part because she’s still really suspicious about what happened last year. Her father thinks I’m a witch. There’s—there’s more stuff going on, too. All of which makes me wish that I was little more typical, a little less... special.”
“That ‘more stuff’—is it anything you’d like to share with us?” No pressure... Marly added in her mind.
I shook my head. “I really wish I could. But I haven’t even talked with Michael about all of this, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if I told you first.”
“I don’t want to pry, honey, but can I ask why you haven’t talked to Michael about whatever it is that’s going on?”
“I just can’t right now. I’m not going to worry him when he’s too far away to do anything but worry. Eventually I’ll tell him everything. But I’m going to ask both of you not to say anything either. I know you don’t want him preoccupied any more than I do.”
“But you’re not really buying into Pryce’s stupid ideas, are you?” Luke questioned anxiously.
“I don’t know. I always told myself that what I can do was given to me from God. And after last year, it seemed as though it was. I could finally use what I can do to help someone. But then... then I realized I didn’t help everyone. I didn’t help Nell. And I hear what Rev. Pryce thinks about me, and I wonder if maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s not from God. He would know, right?”
“Tasmyn.” Luke’s firm voice was so like Michael’s that I bit back a smile. “That’s absolute nonsense. You are not a bad person. You went out of your way to do the best you could in a terrible situation. The good reverend doesn’t have the whole story, and his conclusions are way off base.”
I leaned back in my chair and rested my gaze on Marly and Luke. The connection between them was tangible, and they were united in their unwavering support of me. For the hundredth time, I wondered what I had done to deserve their love and loyalty. I couldn’t think of anything at all, which was enough proof for me that God and grace do exist.
This time, I knew what was going on, right from the start.
The school walkways were dark and empty. I was standing near my locker, but nothing was quite familiar or defined. There was a slight haze softening the walls, the ground, the doors. The longer I focused on an object, the less clear it became.
Silence surrounded me, and yet as I stood trying to draw calm breaths, I heard an odd sing-song voice. It was coming from around the corner, in the next building over. I moved toward the sound.
Walking made everything around me shimmer. Each step I took seemed to move me much further than it should have, and almost instantly I was standing outside of Ms. Lacusta’s classroom. The voice I had heard was much louder, and I knew that Nell was on the other side of the door.
I expected to see her at her old seat, but she was sitting in the front of the room, on Ms. Lacusta’s desk. She was wearing the same sort of white robe as she’d been in last time we’d spoken, but I was relieved to see that her hands were free this time. She swung her legs back and forth and regarded me steadily, head tilted slightly.
“Well, don’t just linger in the doorway, Tasmyn. Please, do come in.”
Unwillingly I moved into the room. Although I tried to take only the smallest step, I found myself standing only a few feet away from Nell.
“That’s better. I can see you now.” Nell smiled, and I shivered.
“Why am I here again? Why are you here?” I attempted to sound cool and together, but I’m fairly certain my voice quivered.
“Just a dream. Isn’t that what you told Michael? Just an odd and disturbing dream.”
My heartbeat quickened. How could she know that? I must really be dreaming, I comforted myself. That’s how she knows everything. It all comes from my mind.
Nell laughed humorlessly and shook her head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tasmyn. I have to say, though, I’m really disappointed in you. I thought you were reasonably intelligent.”
I groped behind me and found a desktop that felt real and stable enough to lean against. Tilting my chin up, I met Nell’s gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nell.”
“It’s pride, I suppose. I told myself that anyone with enough brains and cunning to bring me down would also be smart enough to stay away from Marica. I was wrong, obviously. I guess you just got lucky.”
My temper flared then. “It wasn’t luck, and it wasn’t brains, either. I was just trying to do the right thing—“
Nell waved her hand at me and shook her head in disgust. “The same old song. Stop. I’m tired of hearing it. I don’t want to talk about that, anyway. I want to know why you’re allowing Marica to manipulate you. What does it take for you
to get the hint? For most people, a warning dream from the homicidal maniac who tried to kill them would do the trick.”
“Why in the world would I ever listen to you, Nell?” I asked, glaring at her. “It’s not as though you’ve ever had my best interest at heart. Maybe you’re just jealous that Ms. Lacusta is interested in me now instead of you.” I stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing what I had said. I didn’t care what Ms. Lacusta thought of me, and I didn’t want her to be interested in me. But just now, I had felt a little surge of spiteful pleasure that I had something Nell didn’t.
She laughed again. “Oh, she’s very good, you know. Good at making you think she really cares about you, that she’s trying to help you, that you’re so important. But remember that when it comes down to it, she’ll throw you away as easily as she did me.”
I didn’t answer. A heavy feeling told me that Nell was speaking the truth, and I had known this all along.
“You think you’re stuck,” she went on. “There’s nothing you can do to wriggle free. But consider very carefully, Tasmyn. Don’t say you haven’t been warned.” She glanced around the room, which suddenly appeared very solid and bright. “I chose to meet you here tonight because I want you to remember me when you meet with her tomorrow—or is it today? Hmm. Time’s tricky with these things. Doesn’t matter. When you walk into the classroom to see her, you’ll be reminded.”
I stood up. “I want to go home now. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, Nell.”
She didn’t smile again, but she did sigh, deeply. “I know. I’m not much fun anymore, am I? But I do have one more question, Tasmyn. And it’s one you should be asking yourself. Why haven’t you told Michael about the whole mess with Marica? I know what all of your excuses are, but you need to look beyond them. Figure out the real reason.” She regarded me thoughtfully for a moment more, and I felt an overbearing wave of sadness wash over me. I knew it came from Nell.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I don’t have to go yet, I guess. I—we could talk, if you want.”
Her eyes flared. “No, thanks. No pity conversation from someone who can’t even take care of herself. Go.”
I tried one last time. “Really, Nell, it’s not pity, I’d honestly like--”
“GO!” Her anger was palpable, and she threw out her arm to point at the open door. As she did, I caught sight of ugly red and recent scars on her wrists.
“Oh, Nell!” I gasped. “What did you do?”
I expected her to rage at me again or maybe just disappear. Instead she turned over her arm and regarded it with interest. She raised her eyes to meet mine.
“Didn’t I tell you that a blood sacrifice is very powerful, Tasmyn? Blood spells—they’re the strongest. My resources these days are somewhat limited in that respect. I have to make do with what’s at hand—so to speak.” She smirked, a challenging expression on her face.
“Don’t, please. Please, Nell, don’t hurt yourself.” I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks and landing on the tops of my crossed arms.
“I told you to leave. I’m tired and—things will begin to fall apart. It’s better for you to be gone. Just a dream, Tasmyn... just a dream... ”
I awoke abruptly, shaking and disoriented. My dream... was it really only a dream? I didn’t think so. It felt very close and very real.
As soon as I could trust my legs, I slipped into the bathroom and ran cold water over a washcloth. Pressing it to my cheeks, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. My eyes were dark and shadowed against the paleness of my skin. My hands still trembled, and my eyes hesitated on my wrists as I saw them in the mirror. I could see Nell’s scarred arms in my mind, and I could hear her taunting voice.
Shivering, I darted back to my room and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to my neck. I tried to go back to sleep, but each time I closed my eyes, panic gripped me. Sleep was a long time coming.
So when the alarm rang at 6:30, I was groggy. I moved so slowly through my morning routine that I was in serious danger of being late for the first time in my high school career. My mom’s worried voice followed me out the door.
“Don’t speed or drive crazy just to get there on time. I’ll write you a note if you’re late!”
I waved to acknowledge her words and concentrated on making it to school safely and quickly. The bell was ringing just as I slammed my locker shut and took off for history.
Mercifully, nothing too challenging happened in my morning classes. If I was zoning through physics and calculus, no one seemed to notice. My stomach began to churn toward the end of math class, however, as I faced the prospect of seeing Ms. Lacusta again.
I had finished her book over the weekend, and honestly, it had raised more questions for me than it answered. It was simply a history of a group of people, and while it was interesting, it didn’t give me any answers.
So it was with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation that I made my way to the chemistry classroom. I shivered a little as I went through the door, seeing it again as it had been last night: fuzzy lines and hazy shapes. Today, at least the lights were on and everything appeared to be pretty solid.
Ms. Lacusta was seated at her desk, as she had been last week, and again there was a chair pulled near to hers. She looked up and smiled with genuine pleasure as I approached.
“Tasmyn... hello. Here, have a seat.” She gestured to the chair and then leaned back, gazing at me. “I hope you had an enjoyable weekend.”
I glanced at the teacher skeptically. Was she seriously going to try to make small talk?
“It was all right, I guess. Pretty quiet.” I wasn’t about to share anything important with her.
“Good. Were you able to complete your reading assignment?” She looked at me expectantly, and for a fleeting moment I wondered what she would have done if I said no.
“Yes. It was... informative.” That was an adequate word.
Ms. Lacusta laughed and pushed her hair back over her shoulders. “I hope that wasn’t your polite way of telling me that it was dry and boring. Frankly, I find it fascinating. But then of course, I imagine one always finds one’s family stories more interesting than others might.”
“Your family?” I raised an eyebrow, looking at her questioningly.
“Yes. As you read, the Rom are an ancient people. Others used to think we came from Egypt, and that’s where the term Gypsy came from, but of course, that’s not accurate. We came from India, or what I suppose is now part of Pakistan. We weren’t greeted with open arms, but you’ll have read that, too.
“And during those years, those hard years... we retained our national identity. We diversified, so to speak. We took on different trades. But no matter what happened, our women kept our stories alive, and more than that... they kept the power alive.”
I tried to keep my face carefully blank. So far, Ms. Lacusta hadn’t shared anything that I hadn’t read in her book. But now she was moving into new territory. I toyed with the idea of trying to hear her mind, but the pain and futility of my past attempts made me reluctant. Instead I concentrated on her mood and feelings, which were much more difficult to control even if she knew I could pick them up. I sensed pride and passion, and just the slightest hint of cool calculation.
“The power... I assumed it was just legend,” I said, keeping my face as blank as possible.
Ms. Lacusta leaned forward and held my eyes with her own. “No, Tasmyn, it’s not legend. I understand that the book might have been somewhat... ambiguous about that, but I would think you of all people would find it easy to accept the truth. The power is real, and it is... ” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, in and out. “It is everything.”
A chill ran down my back. The intensity of her words brought back the image of Nell so vividly that I had a hard time keeping my breath even. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the side of Ms. Lacusta that Nell knew very well.
After a moment, she spoke again. “I don’t mean to overstate it, Tasmyn, and
I wouldn’t blame you for shying away from any expression of the power after what happened last autumn. But that was an aberration. It had more to do with Nell’s mental illness than it did with the vrajitorie—the power, that is.”
This time it was me who leaned forward. “What did you call it? Vra--?”
“Vrajitorie. It’s Romanian; it’s the word we use. You would have seen it in the text.”
I nodded. “So... I understand about the—the power, whatever you want to call it, being handed down. I get this is your family history. I still don’t understand why I’m here, why you made me read about it. Not that I don’t find it fascinating,” I hastened to add.
She smiled slightly. “You’re jumping ahead of the story, Tasmyn, and nothing will make any sense if you do that. What I had you read last week was a good foundation. You’re now at the point that I was when I was—oh, well, slightly younger than you are. I grew up surrounded by this history, by the everyday practice of the vrajitorie. It was part of us, as natural as breathing.
“I was particularly gifted. I don’t say that with pride; it was just as I said, a gift. The power flowed from me without effort. I was a favorite of all the elder women for that very reason. They took special care of me and gave me particular training and teaching.”
I could almost see it in my mind, the way she was describing it and the words from the book meshing to form a clear picture. Her mood had shifted to one of fond reminiscence, and a sad smile played about her lips.
“Of course, to what end was I taught? I would grow up to be like the rest of my family, shunned from much of mainstream society where I might have had a fuller life, an education. But the elders taught me so that when I had my daughter, I would teach her. There was a seer amongst us—we called her the ghicitor—and she said I would one day have a very powerful daughter who would be the culmination of all those generations of teaching and practicing. She would be widely known, and her power would be—it would be untouchable.”
A memory stirred in me just then. I could hear Amber’s voice last fall, as we sat in Marly and Luke’s living room on that surreal night, after Michael and I had stopped Nell from killing her. Still somewhat in shock, Amber had told us about the relationship between Nell and Ms. Lacusta. She had described the words the teacher had used to convince all the girls in the so-called chemistry club that what they were doing was destined.
King Series Box Set Page 45