by Brenda Drake
“Dinner’s almost done,” he said.
I sniffed and whatever was cooking actually smelled delicious. “Hopefully, it tastes as good as it smells.”
“It will. Nana’s cooking.”
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “Okay, I’ll be down in a sec.” My legs felt wobbly as I made my way to the bathroom. I stood under the hot water spurting out of the showerhead, letting the heat loosen my tight muscles.
Flashes of arrows, images of bodies falling into pools of blood, and the startled face of the man I had killed played through my memory. I squirted shampoo in my cupped hand and scrubbed it into my scalp, hard. The glass surrounding the shower closed in on me. Shampoo ran down my face, burning my eyes. My head pounded, my ears thrummed, and my body shook uncontrollably. I slid down the glass to my bare butt, pulling my legs to my chest. At first, I tried to fight the tears, but then gave up and cried. I cried hard, letting the water wash my tears away.
When I was done, I slid up to my feet and finished washing. The water had turned cold, and I shivered as I rinsed the suds from my hair. I slipped into my yoga pants and pulled on my hoody, then plodded down the stairs. Pop met me at the archway leading into the dining room. He gave me a bear hug, sending shards of pain down my arm.
I cringed and drew back from him.
“I’m so sorry.” His face pinched with concern. “I forgot about your wound. You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s not that bad,” I lied. It was totally bad, and I kept my arm close to my side to keep from moving it.
Pop had set up the folding table from Thanksgiving at one end of the formal mahogany one. Lei, Kale, Jaran, Demos, and Arik took up one end, while Deidre, Nana, Faith, Nick, and Pop occupied the other. I eased into the empty chair close to the center between Faith and Nick.
I adjusted myself on my seat and inspected the plates on the table, trying to keep from looking at Arik. “Fried chicken?” My voice sounded scratchy.
It felt strange having Arik here. Uncomfortable. I fidgeted with the butter knife beside my plate. But it made sense he’d be included. He was part of our team. That would never change.
“And mashed potatoes,” Faith added.
“Thought we should have a meal that would stick to your bones,” Nana said, picking up the platter of chicken then passing it to Pop.
The bowl came to Faith and she plopped a huge spoonful onto my plate. “Nana’s teaching me to cook.”
“And she’s become a pro.” Nana poured gravy on her potatoes. “She could go on one of those cooking shows.”
Faith brightened.
I ate two servings of everything on the table. I even had two slices of Nana’s caramel apple pie. We lounged around the table, talking and laughing. I kept smiling, hoping to hide the fact that I felt awkward with Arik there. Thankfully, Demos and Jaran blocked my view of him. Anytime Arik spoke, everyone looked at me to see my reaction, which made things even more awkward.
When we were all tired of sitting, we cleared the table. I carried my plate and cup to the kitchen.
“How’s the arm?” Arik came up from behind, startling me.
The glass slipped from my hand and shattered against the tiles. I dropped to my heels and reached to pick up the pieces.
Arik caught my wrist before I touched the glass. “Careful there, you’ll cut yourself.”
I looked up at him, our eyes locking. We stared at each other for several seconds before he let go.
I straightened. “Thanks. I wasn’t thinking.”
Faith rushed over with a broom and dustpan. She quickly swept up the pieces, darting worried looks from her task to me. “You needn’t help with the dishes. Go rest.”
I nodded and made my way through the kitchen into the great room.
“Gia?” Arik was right behind me.
I pretended I hadn’t heard him.
“Gia, can I have a moment?” It didn’t work. He wouldn’t back off.
“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”
He looked past me at the others gathering on the sofas. “Could we go someplace more private?”
“Sure.” I followed him out to the porch.
We stood at the railing surrounding the porch and stared out at the yard. Patches of grass peeked out from the snow. The bare tree limbs rattled in the wind. I hugged myself, trying to keep warm.
“I believe there has been a misunderstanding about our relationship.” It was so cold, his breath frosted in the air.
I wanted to yell at him that I understood our relationship perfectly. We kissed. We said things. It was perfectly clear to me. He used me until something better came along. But I didn’t yell. I didn’t say anything. I just listened. I was tired of fighting. I was tired of crying.
I was just plain tired.
He leaned against the railing and studied his hands. “I’m not certain how it all happened. Not certain what changed my feelings. I apologize for the way it all came about. I should have been a better man and explained it to you before showing up with her that day in the cafeteria.”
“Are you happy?”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “Happy?”
“You know, does she make you chipper?” I used a word that sounded British to me. It sounded corny, but I was dying inside and humor always made things better.
He didn’t even crack a smile. When I thought about it, I hadn’t seen him smile in a long time.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
That was odd. He supposes? It sounded like he was indifferent.
Stop looking for cracks in their relationship. I knew the drill. He was worried if he admitted he was happy, it would hurt my feelings. But knowing that didn’t dull the pain.
Demos burst through the door just then and clomped across the decking.
I faced the yard, not wanting Demos to see the tears glossing my eyes.
“You ready to leave, Arik?” Demos said. “Carrig and Sinead should be back from Asile by now.”
Recovered, I turned back around. “Why were they there?”
“They had a meeting with Bonifacio,” Arik said, his face an unemotional mask. He certainly could turn his feelings on and off easily.
“And he is?” I said.
“He’s the High Wizard of Santara,” Demos said. “The meeting’s agenda was to discuss how to handle their rebels. Apparently, Pia and Reya weren’t alone. Others have risen up against the havens non-response to Santara’s distress call.”
Kale held open the door for Lei as they came outside. Jaran stepped out behind them.
“So, ducky, I heard you were a real badass in Mantello.”
“We weren’t going to bring that up,” Kale reminded her.
“We said not around others,” she protested. “The entire Mystik world is talking about it. You’re a hero.”
“Really? I don’t feel like one. It was horrible seeing people die.” I dragged my eyes away from them and stared back at the yard. When would I stop teetering on the edge of crying?
Jaran placed his hand on my arm. “It will get easier. Just take time to heal.”
I forced a smile. “Thank you.”
“Will you be at school tomorrow?” Lei asked.
“No, she’s taking a few days off,” Nana said from the doorway. “Gia, you should get out of the cold. You don’t want to fall sick while healing from your wound.” She stepped back into the kitchen.
“See you soon?” Lei hugged me, being careful not to hurt my arm.
“Definitely.”
“Good evening,” Kale said.
I buried my freezing hands into my armpits. “Night.”
“I’ll come by and visit after school,” Jaran said.
“Sounds great,” I said.
He skipped down the steps to catch up with Lei and Kale.
Arik headed for the porch steps.
“Good night.” I spun around and headed for the door.
“Gia.”
I paused, keeping my eyes on the door. “Yes?”
“I didn’t need to know that,” I said through clenched teeth, and fumbled with the doorknob, keeping my eyes on the Christmas wreath Faith had made and hung there.
Don’t you cry, Gia. Don’t cry. Not in front of him. The door clicked open and I slammed it behind me, leaving Arik standing alone on the porch.
He did love me. Meaning he no longer loved me. Emily could have him. I didn’t care anymore.
I charged up the stairs, fell into bed, and wrapped the covers around me until I resembled a burrito. I wondered how long I could get away with hibernating in bed. Cleo slinked onto the bed and buried herself into an opening in the Gia burrito. Before long, Baron found her and the two trapped my legs between them.
Deidre tiptoed into the room and searched the drawers for her pajamas in the dark.
“I’m up. You can turn on a light.”
Her lamp clicked on. “How are you feeling?”
“Like crap.”
“I heard what Arik said to you.”
“You were spying on us?”
She stepped into her red and green pajama bottoms. “No, of course not. I took the trash out the side door. I caught the tail end of his absurd apology for breaking your heart as I crossed the yard. If you ask me, he’s been acting odd ever since they started dating. Maybe he’s so in love with you, he’s scared, so he decided to date Emily. You know, so he doesn’t get hurt.”
I contemplated pulling my pillow over my head so I wouldn’t have to listen to her theories.
“It’s like she put a spell on him, or maybe she has a voodoo doll.”
“It could be the fact that she’s beyond beautiful and a nice person.” I nudged Baron with my toe to get him to move. He didn’t budge. “That is, she’s nice to everyone but me.”
“She was nice to you before you publicly got together with Arik.”
She had a point. Emily was friendly to me when we first moved to Branford. Guys always screwed things up between friends. Girls were too jealous by nature. I had to get over Arik. After all, there were more pressing matters to worry about than relationship dramas. We had to protect both worlds from whatever dangers were brewing in the Mystik realm. And things were getting bad.
“I think I’ll go to school tomorrow,” I said, fluffing my pillow.
“That’s the spirit.”
She clicked off the lamp.
Chapter Fifteen
I must’ve looked like a real creeper, peering around my locker door at Emily, gathering up my nerve. For two weeks, I stalked her, trying to gain courage to speak to her. She wore her blacker-than-black hair in a side ponytail, a modest skirt, and knee-high boots. I inspected my ensemble—jeans, T-shirt, leather jacket, and Doc Martens. It was something Nick would wear to ride his bike. I removed my hair tie.
“Hey, Emily,” I said, approaching. “You have a minute?”
She glanced at her cell phone. “Actually, we have a few before class starts.”
“I just wanted…” I wasn’t sure exactly what to say. If she knew Arik and I were together before coming to Branford, she’d realize I wasn’t trying to sneak in and snatch him up before she could. But if I wanted to move on from Arik, I had to make amends with both him and Emily.
“Well?” She glanced at her phone again. “Time’s almost up.”
“I just wanted to say that I had no idea you liked Arik when I agreed to go on a date with him. If I’d known, I would’ve said no.” The lie tasted bitter in my mouth.
“Yeah, Deidre did say she hadn’t told you I was interested in him.” She swung the strap of her backpack onto her shoulder. “There’re no hard feelings. I guess it all worked out in the end.”
The bitter taste in my mouth moved to my stomach. The smug look on her face made me wish I hadn’t come over to talk to her. It may have worked out for her, but it tore me to pieces, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fit all the parts back together again.
“That sounded horrible,” she said. “I only meant that it was good things ended with you guys before you got too attached to him.”
Too attached to him? The breakup caused my heart to explode in my chest, leaving a hole the size of the Grand Canyon behind, that’s all. I wanted to tell her we had been together for months before she entered the picture. But I bit my tongue.
The warning bell sounded.
She searched the ceiling as if she could see the bell somewhere. “Listen, I should get to class.” She started down the hall, stopped suddenly, and stomped back to me. “You know, I’m sorry, too. I think it was just a matter of neither one of us knowing the other one had feelings for him. You’re a beautiful girl, Gia. I’m sure your prince will find you soon.”
Was she being nice or pouring salt in my wounds? Emily made a beeline for a girl with hair paler than her skin, said a few words to her, and then they dashed down the hall together.
I darted off to class. I was done obsessing over her and Arik. I’d been messing up in school ever since the big breakup, and I didn’t need another tardy warning going home to Pop.
Everyone was already in their seats when I made it to English class. The tardy bell rang as the class door shut behind me. I slipped into my desk.
Jaran leaned across the aisle. “Where were you?”
“I had to take care of something.”
“Are you feeling well?”
“I feel great.”
He smiled, then straightened when the teacher addressed the class.
“Good morning, class.” Mrs. Ripple sent a stack of books down each row. “We’re going to read a book from a local author over the holiday break. I would have liked to have read it during Halloween, since it has to do with the local myth about witches in the area, but we had to wait for Mrs. Downey’s class to finish with them.”
The books made their way to me, and I grabbed one before passing the remaining two to the girl behind me. The title read: The Witches of Branford. The woman on the cover had black hair and piercing blue eyes, with flames surrounding her. A Celtic trinity knot hung from a thick chain around the woman’s neck. I’d seen the symbol recently but couldn’t place where.
Mrs. Ripple drew three intertwining ovals and a circle around them on the white board. “Does anyone know what the symbol on her necklace is?”
No one stirred.
“I take that as a no? Okay, then, it’s the Power of Three symbol. It represents eternity and continuity. Many women in the 1600s, who used herbs to heal the body and mind, were considered witches.”
A hand shot up.
“Yes, Becca?”
Becca tucked her short mousy hair behind her ears. “Just like in the Salem Witch Trials?”
“Well, sort of. Unlike Salem, the people of Branford aren’t aware of this bit of their history. It was hushed, and only recently did the author of this book publish the truth. He had found a diary of a distant relative that documented the event.”
Becca studied the cover of the book. “It would be so cool to die a horrible death. Like this witch burning in the fire. I bet she was buried somewhere private. You know, the religious guys never let witches be buried in the community graveyards.”
The girl was morbid. Or brilliant. The stories she came up with during creative writing were captivating.
Mrs. Ripple gave Becca a puzzled look. “Um, that is true. No one knows where these poor souls were buried. Possibly, their families hid their graves on their properties. Anyway, winter break starts tomorrow. Please have the book read before school resumes.”
Becca’s statement about the burial made me think of the graveyard behind our fencing club. And then I remembered where I’d seen the trinity knot recently. One of the gravestones had the same symbol on it. I had a sudden interest in reading the book and finding out more about the hidden cemetery. It would be a good distraction from the Mystik world and Arik.
...
Nana sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, with Baron curled up o
n her lap. Cleo bathed in a patch of sunlight on the carpet by Nana’s feet.
“Hey,” I said, dropping my messenger bag onto the bench beside the kitchen door. I removed the book assigned in class from its front pocket. “How was your day?”
“Quiet.” She placed her teacup down. “And yours?”
“Bearable.” I took a seat at the table and pulled my legs up into a pretzel. I slid the book across the table to her. “Do you know about the witches of Branford?”
She put on her reading glasses that hung from a chain around her neck and picked up the book. “I’m not aware of them. Are you sure this is a true story?”
“No. But this author says it’s true.”
She read the back of the book. “Sounds like an intriguing tale. Why do you ask?”
“There’re some old gravestones behind the club.” I pointed at the pendant on the cover of the book. “This symbol is on one of the gravestones.”
“Take me there.” She took another sip of her tea, stood, and placed Baron on the chair. “I’ll get my coat.”
The parking lot at the gym had an untouched layer of snow covering it. The tires of Nana’s Lexus cut through the white lot. She slowed the car to a stop at the side of the building.
Nana stepped out, pulling up the faux fur collar of her jacket. Her boots crunched across the snow as she met me in front of the car.
“The gym looks impressive,” she said, following me down the path. “Those artisans from Asile did a fantastic job fixing the place up.”
Piles of snow weighed down the bare limbs of the trees, providing an icy canopy over the tiny cemetery. Soggy leaves clung to the bases of the trunks. Nana shoved her hands into her pockets, her gaze turned up to the tree branches.
“There’s a dark aura around these woods,” she said. “Something horrible happened here. Death and despair echo in the wind, whispers of a terrifying event.”
I glanced at her. “Can you freak me out more?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to know what happened here.”
“I do, but jeesh. Can you put more dread into your voice? Seriously, you sound like that horror movie narrator. You know, the one in those old movies.”
“Vincent Price? Dear, no one’s voice can be as creepy as his.” She stepped over a log.