by Sarra Cannon
The realization of what we were doing out here in the clearing came to me. “So you brought me all the way out here in the middle of the night to give me a tattoo?”
Lark laughed. “Yep. You in?”
“Do I really have a choice?” I was joking in a way, but I also wondered if I did have a choice or not. It didn't really feel like something I could turn down if everyone on the squad had one. The thought of something living inside of me like that gave me the creeps. Would I feel it constantly moving along my back?
“Of course you do, silly,” Brooke said. “But it's fun. Plus, we all have them. No big deal.”
I heard her words, but the meaning behind them felt the opposite. This was something I needed to do in order to belong. And what was the hesitation anyway? I wanted to belong, didn't I? “Yeah,” I said. “I'm in.”
The girls cheered and hugged me. Lark reached into the bag and pulled out a dark blue column candle and set it on the ground. It hovered slightly above the grass. Next, she brought out a black velvet bag. She rolled it out across the grass and inside, there were shiny silver instruments. A long knife with blue stones embedded in the hilt. A syringe. A scalpel. A slight twinge of fear coursed through me.
“What are those things for?”
“Don't worry,” Lark said. “It only hurts for a second.”
“Great, that makes me feel much better,” I mumbled.
Brooke put her hand on my arm. “It's really not bad,” she said.
“What will it be?” I asked. “Do I get to choose what I want a tattoo of?”
“Not exactly,” she said. “It's more like your tattoo chooses you. It picks something deep inside your heart and brings it to the surface.”
“Let's hope it doesn't come out to be a tattoo of Drake's face,” Lark teased.
I punched her in the shoulder. “Like he's already gotten deep inside my heart.”
“He hasn't even gotten deep inside her pants yet,” Allison said.
“Oh God, you're disgusting,” I said. I'd already been feeling enough pressure from Drake in that department. I certainly didn't need it from my friends too.
“Haha, very funny,” Brooke said. She looked at her watch. “We need to begin. It's almost three.”
“Is it really going to hurt?”
“Not much,” Lark said, patting my shoulder. “It just feels a little weird for a while, until you get used to it.”
“And it lasts forever?”
“Well, it's not exactly the rest of your life or anything,” Allison said.
“So how long?”
“Until your final ritual of acceptance into the Order of Shadows,” Lark said.
Brooke picked up the syringe and held it toward the light. It was filled with a shimmery liquid.
“What's the Order of Shadows?”
The three girls exchanged looks again. I was getting tired of their secretive glances. At least tonight marked the beginning of being finally welcomed into the group.
“The coven we're all being recruited to join,” Allison said.
“How many witches are there in Peachville?”
Brooke lifted her hand into the air to quiet us. “I know you've got a ton of questions, but this has to be done at exactly three a.m. And right now it's two-fifty-eight.”
“Don't worry,” Lark said. “Tomorrow you'll start your training and all of your questions will be answered.”
“Okay,” I said. “What do you need me to do?” I was little nervous with those strange silver instruments glinting in the fake sunlight.
“Lie down over here,” Brooke said. “On your stomach,”
I lay across the dense green grass and felt the prickle of the tough blades along the front of my body.
Brooke lifted my shirt up in the back and I felt the cold rush of air against my warm skin. I trembled slightly, both from nerves and from the cold.
Lying flat against the ground, I could feel the energetic hum of the earth ten-fold. Its energy flowed through me like an electrical current, and I felt my body pass into a kind of trance. Around me, the other girls began to chant. It felt like a lullaby. I closed my eyes and sank deeper into the grass.
I heard the clash of metal, but it seemed distant. It felt like I was falling into the earth, becoming one with the ground. My body hummed along with it, pulsing to the sound of their chanting voices.
Someone's hands touched my back, then a sharp prick pierced my skin. I wanted to cry out, but I was too deep, too far away. The spot where they pierced me burned for a while, then slowly began to pulse, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. The chanting grew louder and I felt dizzy. Behind my lids, the darkness seemed to twirl and sway.
A searing heat burned my flesh, and my hand gripped the grass in desperate fistfuls. I needed to get up, to stop whatever was happening to me, but I was helpless. My mouth was sealed shut like the door of an ancient tomb, silent and dark. Visions pulsed in and out of my mind's eye, like photographs. The woman in white, her dress splattered with blood. A baby crying. A young girl with long brown hair and the deepest blue eyes. My mother, Claire, in a black dress, her eyes somber and red-ringed.
I struggled against it. I wanted them to stop the tattoo. They had lied to me. I knew it now. This was a very big deal. Something was searching my memories.
Something. Or someone. But I was powerless to stop it.
The visions went dark and mercifully , the burning subsided into a dull ache in the small of my back. My body was rigid and tense, every muscle on edge. Something slithered through my insides, then crawled to the surface of the skin on my back. I felt it push through like a newborn entering the world for the first time.
Somewhere behind me, I heard a gasp. Then, everything went dark.
A Connection To This Demon
I awoke on Monday morning with a start.
What the hell happened last night?
My lower back ached as if I had suffered a hella sunburn. I shuffled to the bathroom and lifted the back of my t-shirt.
Oh, holy Jesus!
The tattoo on my back was not a fluffy kitten or a sunny daisy. It was a demon. A miniature gargoyle-looking thing with wings, cloaked in a dark, swirling shadow. Its eyes opened and the demon looked at me. I screamed and dropped my t-shirt.
I could feel the demon move across the skin of my lower back. It felt like fingernails raking across my already tender skin.
Anger roared inside of me like a tornado. This was definitely not just a charm or a fun enchantment spell. Something was living inside of me now. They had let something into my body that had a mind of its own. I could feel it taking up residence in its small piece of real estate.
A knock on the door to my bedroom startled me. I quickly lowered my t-shirt.
“Yeah?”
Courtney stepped into my room. Her blonde hair was bone-straight and fell across her pale face. “Good morning,” she said. “You about ready to go?”
I looked at the clock. I had seriously overslept. “Just give me a couple of minutes,” I said.
In the van on the way to school, Courtney talked about some project she had due for school. I only half listened. Ever since Agnes died, Courtney had really started to come out of her shell. I enjoyed hanging out with her sometimes, but this morning I was seriously preoccupied.
Mary Anne, the only other girl who lived with us at Shadowford Home for Girls, was as silent as ever. She kept her headphones on almost constantly and rarely ever said so much as hello to me.
When I got to school, I went around the back way in order to avoid Drake. I was supposed to keep the tattoo ritual a secret from everyone who wasn't on the squad, but if Drake saw me like this, he'd know something was up. I wanted to talk to Brooke and the others first. They owed me a real explanation for lying to me about the seriousness of the so-called tattoo.
I found Brooke in the student parking lot rummaging through her trunk.
“What the hell did you do to me last night?” I kept my voice low, but th
e anger in it was apparent.
Brooke looked up, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “What are you talking about? We started the ritual and you passed out. Then we took you home and put you back in your own bed.”
“Stop acting like this was just no big deal,” I said. Anger boiled up inside of me, and a bottle cap rattled across the parking lot in front of my foot. I stepped on it to shut it up. “You told me this was just a fun little hazing ritual. No one said I'd be inviting some... thing into my body. I thought it was just a spell, but I can feel this thing inside of me. I can feel its mood and its thoughts.”
Brooke sighed and shook her head. “Don't take everything so seriously, Harper. It's just a spell. There's nothing living inside you except the magic ink I injected into your skin. It moves because of magic, not because it's alive or anything.”
I took a deep breath to steady myself and keep from saying something I might regret. She was wrong. This was no enchanted ink spot on my skin. “How come you guys all got pretty little images like a horse or a flower, and I got this evil looking demon thing?”
Fear flashed across Brooke's features and she looked away from me, pretending to search for something in her bag. “I don't know,” she said. “The ink chooses something deep inside your heart. How am I supposed to know what's in your heart? You're the only one who can answer that.”
“Well, I know there's no creepy demon in my heart, if that's what you mean.” I followed her as she made her way toward the building. “Maybe you did it wrong. Maybe you messed it up or something. Is there any way to get it removed and start over?”
Brooke stopped and looked at me, for the first time with a little sympathy in her eyes. “Look, I don't know what happened, all right? The shadow demon is a weird thing to come out during the ritual. I've never seen it before, but it's a sacred image for the Order. You should be honored, not pissed.”
“So, that's what this thing is called? A shadow demon?”
Brooke nodded. “You'll learn more about them in training, but I can't explain why one ended up on your back. All I can tell you is that somewhere in your past, you have a connection to this demon.”
I stood there, dumbfounded, as Brooke left and hurried toward the building. The first period bell rang, but I couldn't force my feet to move. A connection to the demon. My hand went up to the sapphire pendant I wore around my neck. My mother's pendant. It had saved me from Agnes just a couple of weeks ago. Just when I was sure I was going to die, a demon had materialized from the shadows and carried her away.
I'd spent the past few weeks trying to deny what I'd seen. I didn't want to believe it. But now I had a constant reminder of that night tattooed across my back. I shuddered, thinking that my connection to this shadow demon went back much further than a couple of weeks.
“There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere. Why didn't you meet me out front?” Drake's voice pulled me from my thoughts and I forced a smile onto my face.
“Hey, sorry,” I said. “I had something I had to do this morning.”
He pulled me into a big bear hug. “It's okay, but you should have texted me. I gave you a phone for a reason.”
“Sorry,” I said. I wasn't used to someone keeping tabs on me all the time.
“Today's the big day, I guess,” he said. “How are you feeling? You ready?”
“Ready to learn,” I said.
Ready for answers.
“That's my girl.”
Drake walked me to class. It took every ounce of my willpower not to flinch as he put his hand on the small of my back.
The Magic Doesn't Come From The Words
“Everyone give a warm welcome to our newest Demon cheerleader, Harper Madison!”
The entire cheerleading squad was gathered in the gym after school. Mrs. King pulled me up front and I smiled as everyone cheered. I had spent most of the day getting over the anger I felt about last night. After all, I couldn't undo what had already been done. Instead, I focused on the reason I'd joined the squad in the first place. I wanted to learn to control this wild magic inside of me. I wanted answers.
“If everyone will please go into the locker room and get changed, I'd like to talk to Harper privately for a minute.”
The girls disappeared into the women's locker room. Mrs. King motioned for me to take a seat on the bleachers. She sat next to me, turning her body completely towards me. I was struck by how young she looked. She could have been a teenager herself if I didn't know any better. I found myself wondering just how old she was, but I figured it would be rude to ask.
“I heard about the ritual last night.”
I looked up, surprised. I hadn't expected her to mention the tattoo.
“Brooke told me you were upset this morning,” she said. “About the shadow demon.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she shook her head. “It's completely understandable. To be honest, I'm excited that yours turned out to be a demon.”
“Last night, they told me it was just a hazing ritual. A charm of some kind that wouldn't be permanent. But it's more than that isn't it?”
Mrs. King smiled. “You're so much more perceptive than the others. It's exciting for me to see your level of understanding already, when we haven't even started the training.”
“That doesn't really answer my question,” I said.
“No, I guess it doesn't.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on my leg. “There is a lot you're about to learn, Harper. About our way of life here. The tattoo is the first step. It's like a leap of faith. A mark of acceptance.”
I felt as if I had been branded. My foot tapped nervously against the bleachers.
“Harper, I promise you it will be worth it. Once you see what we can offer you, you'll forget all about the tattoo.”
I studied her face. She seemed to be truly concerned about me. “So what happens next?”
“It's a bit unusual to have a girl coming onto the squad mid-season, so you've got a lot of catching up to do. Plus, you're already a sophomore and most girls start their freshman year.” Mrs. King stood and I followed her toward the locker room. “What you're about to see might come as a shock.”
Curious, my footsteps quickened. As we walked into the locker room, I stared open-mouthed at the empty space. Where did everyone go? I hadn't seen them pass by us to go outside or anything.
“Come with me,” Mrs. King said. She stood on the far side of the room at the edge of a long row of lockers.
We walked together to the back corner of the locker room where a large demon was painted onto the wall. Mrs. King stepped up and touched the demon's face. Her hand passed completely through.
My eyes grew wide and I placed my hand over my mouth. A secret passage-way in the girl's locker room? Mrs. King walked straight through it. Cautiously, I followed her, my hands out in front of me just in case. I giggled as I passed through. A sort of invisible force-field tickled when I crossed over it.
“Only girls with the tattoo and official members of the Order can pass through this doorway,” she said.
“Does that mean you still have a tattoo?”
“Not exactly,” she said. She didn't explain what she meant by that. Instead, she led me down a flight of stone stairs and into a candle-lit room below. All of the other cheerleaders were seated at stone workbenches.
A seat next to Allison was empty and Mrs. King motioned for me to take it. I sat down and waited with anticipation. I had expected to be practicing cheers all afternoon in the gym, not learning magic down in some secret dungeon training room. Given a choice, I'd much rather be doing magic. Maybe joining the squad would turn out to be the best decision I'd ever made.
“Today we're going to practice creating our own light sources.” Mrs. King held out her palm and created a spark of light similar to the orb Brooke made the night before. The only difference was that Mrs. King's light was a shimmery purple. Also, I noticed she didn't have to say a magic word to create it. “For those of you who are new, you
can start with a simple candle.”
Mrs. King snapped her fingers and tall white candles appeared on the tables in front of all of the freshman. One also appeared in front of me. I tried to hide my joy and fascination. I didn't want to look too much like a noob. On the other hand, I really was amazed. I knew being a part of the cheerleading team would mean being let in on some of their secrets, but I never dreamed it would be like this.
“Second and third level trainees can work on creating the spark. And Brooke and the other seniors will walk around and help anyone who is having trouble.”
Everyone turned to their individual tasks. I stared at the white candle on the table, and then looked at the girl across from me. Her candle was already giving off a smoke, but hadn't actually produced any light. I watched to see what she was doing so I could copy her.
“Illuminate,” she said. The wick of her candle sparked slightly, then went dim. She bit her lip, then looked up and saw me watching her. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Aren't you going to try it?
“I don't really know what to do,” I said.
“Just concentrate on what you want to happen. Like with the candle, try to imagine that it's lit up with a nice, big glowing flame. Then, you say 'illuminate', and send your energy into the flame.”
She made it sound easy. “Do you have to use the word?”
“What do you mean?”
“Mrs. King made her orb without saying any kind of magic spell word. So why do we need one?”
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Mrs. King standing beside me, listening to our conversation.
“The magic doesn't come from the words,” she said. “It comes from deep inside of you. But the words help new witches focus on what they're trying to accomplish. Most girls say 'illuminate' but you could just as easily say 'flame' or 'light' with the same result. When you get to be more skilled in your magic abilities and more in tune with your shadow demon, you will be able to do a lot of magic without using any words at all.”