“No, no. Go.”
“But last night you got back so late, and tonight you’re…you look so beautiful, Lily.” She touched my wrist. “And so strong. I know you’ll be amazing.”
“Thanks, Daze. And you should go. Have fun. I won’t be back until nearly dawn.”
“You just be sure you have a ride home, and get home safe,” Mom chimed in. “The Gleaning lasts until sunrise, honey. I’ll be out of earshot, so call Auntie Fern if you need anything.”
“I will.” She smiled again at me. “Should I tell Jonah you said hi?”
Hanging out at the Brew felt like years ago, but I still felt terrible about what had happened with Jonah on the beach.
“No, that’s okay,” I said, not wanting to lead him on or remind him of me at all. I wasn’t proud of my behavior and choices that night. But if I had to do it all over again, I would still choose Logan.
Daisy had no idea what went down—or almost went down—between us that night, and she didn’t need to.
“Other people are going too, right?” Iris asked.
“Oh, yeah. He’s just giving me a ride. Clover and Saffron are both in the Twinkie as we speak.”
Clover=witch. Saffron=human. Leave it to Melas County.
“Good luck tonight, Lily,” she said, hugging me around my waist. “I wish I could be there.”
I watched her pull on her favorite pink hoodie with the words MELAS IS SALEM SPELLED BACKWARDS sprawled across the back. Mom gave her money and reminded her to stick close to her friends.
Mom walked Daisy out to the van. I watched quietly from the window as she greeted Jonah, who looked characteristically bouncy behind the wheel.
Before the Pink Twinkie rounded the corner, I waved my fingers, giving them an extra protection spell, ensuring an excellent, safe night. All the Spellspinners would be occupied elsewhere, and we couldn’t come to anyone’s rescue.
“I worry about her in a different way,” Mom said when she returned to my room.
“How do you mean?”
“She’s so trusting and naïve. I’m not sure she’s meant for this path of ours.”
“Are you going to encourage her not to pursue her magic?”
“After what you’ve been through, how could I do this to you both?”
“You’re not doing this to us, Mom. This is our destiny.”
“Yours, yes. But maybe not Daisy’s…I’m sorry to bring this up now. Just seeing her with her human friends and that sweet Jonah boy makes me feel guilty. Why encourage her to pursue something so all-consuming when she’s just as happy among humans?”
“But after tonight, maybe you won't have to worry about Daisy after all. If Logan reveals he’s the Rognaithe during the Gleaning, and we make peace with the warlocks, we can go back to the way things were before the curse: no more fighting. No more training. Just working on our spells and strengthening our magic.”
“That is my hope.” She kissed the top of my head and sighed. “But Lily, there are still trials in store, and tonight you must be prepared for every possibility.”
Logan
Logan found the witches waiting in a grove not far from the ring of stones.
Dressed in long, white ceremonial robes with thick, hooded cloaks, they stood in a circle chanting an ethereal melody. Golden leaves lifted off the earth, dancing between them, as if they too, could hear their entrancing song.
Afterwards, they gathered in groups of twos and threes, chatting nervously as they waited.
Now was his chance.
Twinkle Twinkle, Little Bat
Lily
My arms chilled with goose bumps. A warm breeze tickled my neck.
As usual, I felt him before I could see him.
Hey, there.
I spun around, scanning the dark woods. The sun was still glowing bright, shining through the branches at an angle—blinding me to him.
Where are you?
Back up slowly.
Flashing Orchid the “one-minute” sign, I backed slowly into the low brush until I was scooped up into strong arms, and whisked away into a shadowed thistle, not unlike the enchanted grove.
“Intimidating,” I said, with an eyebrow raise. His cloak, like mine, was thick and heavy. He kissed me before setting me on the ground so he could remove his hood. “Better?”
“Much. I prefer you in your beach hoodie.” I flashed on our first kiss in the sand.
“Believe me, I prefer myself that way, too.”
I had so much to tell him, but suddenly words escaped me. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him again, harder and deeper this time. “Are you ready?” I asked, staring deep into his eyes.
“Now I am.” He squeezed me tighter to him. “You?”
I nodded. “Something amazing is going to happen in there, Logan. I’m not sure what, but it’s going to be the first step toward breaking the curse.”
“Do you think it will have something to do with our amulets?”
“Why? What did you find out?”
“I had a dream that I think was actually a memory of my mother. She gave me the amulet right before she left me alone in my tree house. I don’t think I ever saw her again.”
“How sad…”
“Anyway, she said my amulet would protect me and that I should never take it off.” He blushed. “She also told me that I was the most special boy in the world, which sounds dorky, but I think she somehow knew I was the Rognaithe.”
I gasped. “She must have. What do you think happened to her?”
“Jacob always told me I was abandoned on his doorstep, but I think she was probably killed that night. She was scared when she gave me the charm, and there were people shouting somewhere outside. And there was a fire... She even told me to keep my amulet hidden, like she was afraid someone was searching for me. Or for it. I’m not sure which.”
“It’s strange…Rose’s mother was scared about something, too,” I thought aloud.
“Who’s Rose?”
“My great-great grandmother.” I told him about the journal entry and where it had left off.
“That’s so weird,” he said. “About the same time you were reading that, I got a sign of my own.”
“What was it?” It seemed like the Seven Sisters were sending us clues that only made sense when we fit them together. But then what did that say about my own scary dream? It wasn’t a message, was it?
“These strange verses appeared on my pillow this morning. About, ‘If light and dark together, possess two single tears,’ and so on. One was hopeful, and the other sounded ominous.”
“Ominous how?”
“‘The earth will shake/ The sun will burst/ A threat beyond the years,’” he quoted. “Something like that.”
“But we’ve seen the mark, Logan. We don’t need to worry anymore.” Secretly I was worried there might have been a warning in my dream that I’d missed.
“I really hope so,” he said. “It’s just that, all these things, like the doppelganger, the doll, and Jacob’s twisted scheming... I’m so ready for real answers instead of all these cryptic signs.” He kissed my forehead. “Anyway, Lil, I’m not going to hurt you in the Stones, no matter what happens. If we’re matched and something, I don’t know— If the energy exchange is hurting you at all, let me know, and I’ll stop. I have no idea what this is going to be like. What it will feel like, and I want to make sure you’ll be safe.”
He was so sweet, it crushed me. “And likewise, for me, too. But I don’t think it will hurt if we stay focused on maintaining a balance.” I told him what Iris had taught me with the candles. “I have much more control than I used to, so I think I can stop if anything gets too rough.”
“Too rough?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Shut up, you know what I mean.”
He laughed, and then we stood quietly for a moment. Leaves rustled as the wind picked up, and I closed my eyes, breathing it all in.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
He
held me to him, knowing the moment would be gone long before we wanted it to be. “We just have to get through today,” he said, his words comforting, his voice strong. “And then Lil, we can have everything.”
Nodding, I whispered into his neck, “Be so careful.” I held him tighter, hoping he understood what I really meant: that I loved him. Without him, I wasn’t whole. Not anymore. “Even if you weren’t the Chosen, Lo—even if you weren’t the Rognaithe…it wouldn’t have mattered. Not to me.” I kissed him once more, softly, sweetly on the mouth.
He didn’t answer, but his smile told me he was glad to know that.
That I felt the same about him no matter what.
It might’ve been only magic on the breeze, but the whisper in my head as his cloaked figure disappeared into the forest sounded like I love you, too.
***
“Where’d you sneak off to?” Orchid asked as we got in formation to enter the Gleaning.
“Logan.” I smiled, flushed with the memory.
“Damn, those warlocks, right? And to think, I used to think human boys were hot.”
I grinned, shyly.
She cocked her head. “You really love him, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“More than anything?”
“Yes. I just want to be with him all the time.”
Orchid started to say something, but then set her lips.
“What?” I asked, “Is that weird? Too over-the-top? I’m new to this, you know.”
Her smile was a little sad when she said, “You trust me, right Lil? You know I’m on your side?”
“Of course. You’re my best friend.”
“Then know it’s all going to be okay.”
“I know,” I said, puzzled. Did she know something I didn’t?
“Just FYI, your lipstick is all smudged,” Orchid said, then smirked. “You did more than just talk when he dragged you away.” She smiled wryly, while I blushed, remembering his lips on mine.
“Stay still.” She surveyed my lips. “We have to do it over. Plus, the color is all wrong.”
“I don’t have another one,” I said.
“That’s when being a witch comes in handy.”
“Go for it.”
She spun a quick spell, turning the shade from a deep red to pearl pink. My lips tingled as she magically brushed it on.
“Better?” I asked.
“Much more you.”
The other girls were already lining up; Camellia was giving us last minute pep talks, greeting us down the line individually. My palms sweated with nervous energy. The loud beat of the drum inside the Stones wasn’t helping. It was ominous, like the gray clouds hovering over the ring, as if they were vying for domination of the pastels of twilight. “Hey, O? Are you okay?”
She seemed distracted. I couldn’t get a good read on her.
“A little nervous,” she said without meeting my eyes. “Aren’t you?”
“Should I be?”
She paused, her face half-shadowed by her heavy white hood, her lips a pearl pink that matched my own. “I think it’s normal for us all to be, right?”
I Simply Must Get Through
Logan
The traditional Warlock March—performed by hooded elders on wide, black, ceremonial drums—reverberated against the Stones, as the warlocks marched together into the ring. Logan, as the leader of the Ceruleans, led his brothers of the same ranking, followed by the Jade and Fire levels, who’d entered the rings before and knew what to expect.
Under their black hooded cloaks, the boys wore thin black cotton martial arts unifoms; their jackets were wrapped tightly over their bare chests, tied with belts that corresponded to their level. Their feet were bare. On their wrists, they wore leather bands etched with the moon sign, symbolizing the Sons of Darkness.
The boys circled the ring once, before taking their places in order of rank.
On the opposite side of the ring, dressed alternately in black and white, the Congression witches and warlocks stood like chess pieces. Heads covered by thick cowls, they stood in anticipatory silence.
Logan didn’t know where to look. You didn’t look a warlock member of the Congression directly in the eye. Rumor had it that if their gaze locked on yours, it stung like vipers and burned for three days. There was probably a similar penalty among the witches, one he wasn’t eager to learn firsthand.
When the drumming reached its crescendo, Jacob, from under a thick crimson hood, stepped forward to address the crowd. “Sons of Darkness, and Members of the Congression, I welcome you to the Gleaning! Our young warlocks have trained vigorously all their lives for this very Solstice twilight. So without further ado, I’d like to welcome our female counterparts, the Daughters of Light, into our magical circle of Solstice Stones.”
Drowning out Jacob’s boring rhetoric, a new, ethereal song filled the air. While a redheaded witch strummed a golden harp at the entrance, the Daughters of Light entered the ring with such grace, it took his breath away.
The witches’ Mistress appeared, standing opposite Jacob. Facing each other, they extended their arms, palms up. Logan held his breath as a single stone began to glow and vibrate on the dirt between them; then it floated up and hovered between their closed eyes. Spinning slowly at first, it gathered momentum, until an audible swish rang through the air. The stone flew toward the Cerulean warlocks’ formation till it stopped to hover directly in front of Logan.
“The stone has chosen its warlock,” the witch said.
As Logan anticipated, the rock zipped through the air and stopped in front of Lily, whose porcelain face was partially veiled by her thick, white hood.
“The stone has made its choice,” Jacob said.
Squaring his broad shoulders, Logan moved into his position in the ring. He closed his eyes, looking inward, focusing on the battle ahead.
When he opened them, he saw dark storm clouds gathering with freakish speed above the ring. A wind blew in from the ocean, cold and foreboding. At the same moment, a trio of cloaked figures with white masks approached, and presented Logan and Lily with three swords.
Lily picked first. She reached out, and a long, flashy Samurai sword with a purple handle flew into her hand. With quick chopping motions, she tested the weapon for weight and flexibility before slipping it into the sheath at her hip. It fell perfectly, like it belonged with her, was part of her.
A thicker, heavier sword, with a brilliant blue dragon and ancient runes etched into the hilt, chose Logan.
The dragon sword.
He’d often heard about it, but had never seen it up close. The sword of legends.
The trio, dressed in silver robes to symbolize neutrality, stepped between Logan and Lily. “Spellspinners, ladies and gentlemen of the Congression, and young competitors, it is time to invite magic into our circle,” they said in one gender-neutral voice, like a Greek chorus.
Thunder cracked; the wind picked up. The witches and warlocks rose, standing outside the circle with conjoined hands.
Jacob met Lily’s Mistress at the western end of the ring. When their hands touched, indigo sparks flew from their skin.
“Your sword,” the chorus said, reaching out to Logan, who reluctantly handed over the weapon. “And yours,” they said to Lily. Logan glanced over at her, but she was staring straight ahead, focused on the upcoming fight. He should focus, too.
“Mistress Camellia, Master Jacob, the honor is yours.”
Together they raised the swords toward the sky, joining them at the tips. Logan watched in awe as a streak of golden light tore across the sky with a deafening thunderclap.
When the lightning struck the conductors, Jacob and Camellia lit up like live wires, sparking in the rain. Glowing from the inside out, they walked in opposite directions, dragging their electrified swords against the rocks. Electric energy pulsed through the circle as they rounded the circumference, leaving no stone untouched.
So this was the secret of the Stones.
Stone
henge, the Orkney Islands, Melas—the ancient rings were vessels for transporting energy from the elements into witches and warlocks.
Almost as rapidly as the storm gathered, it ceased, replaced by the rosy glow of sunset.
But the circle still hummed with electricity.
Camellia handed Lily her energized sword. Logan took his from Jacob. The trio met them in the middle of the circle. “Bow and begin,” the chorus sang. Logan studied Lily, predicting her first move. She still hadn’t met his eyes.
Without warning, she charged him, smashing her foot, hard, into his side before he could move out of the way. Her eyes changed after the first hit. As he felt the energy drain from his body, flickers of orange appeared around her pupils. This was how it happened, how they changed so quickly.
If this was how she wanted to show off her powers, well, he’d match it. He ripped away from her contact, severing the bond that was gleaning his magic.
In the background, the witches rhythmically stomped the ground, cheering Lily on. Logan felt the intensity of Jacob’s gaze as he backed up to scrape his blade against one of the stones.
When he swept the blade back toward the witch, a bale of wind gathered in its wake, making whips out of her long hair and knocking her to the ground.
Logan sheathed his sword and created an energy ball. Daggers shot from his eyes as he aimed and fired. The energy ball shot through the circle, sucking up more light and heat from the stones as it coursed through the electric air.
Lily stabbed her sword into the dirt, and a thick mound of earth shot up in front of her, forming a shield. Logan watched in disbelief as the gravestone looking mound sucked up his ball of fire.
He sneered, unsheathing Blue Dragon. He wasn’t in the mood for anything less than steel on steel. And electric steel was bound to be even more fun.
With a weighted swish, he swung the thick blade toward Lily, scattering the mound into sparks of golden dirt.
No longer protected, the sword grazed her ear, snipping a piece of her hair. He watched it fall to the dirt. She flicked ignited swordfingers toward his feet. He jumped, but not in time. He smelled his flesh burn. If this was all for show, she was sure putting in a good effort. He swung at her again, not hard enough to hurt her, just brush past her. Effortlessly, she twisted out of the way with a triple cartwheel, landing on her butt with a hard thud.
The Gleaning, Spellspinners Series #2 (The Spellspinners of Melas County) Page 15