Strife

by Cate Tiernan

  “But—but—” I sputtered. Sky and I had never been terribly close. Still, I didn’t want her to leave. Hunter reached out and touched the tips of my long hair. “We’ll all miss her,” he said. “But she doesn’t want to stay here, Morgan. Things have been hard for her.” Hunter looked at me, and I knew that he was talking about Sky’s breakup with Raven. I knew she had to be excited at the thought of going home to her friends. “Besides,” Hunter added, “I need her help.”

  I nodded. Hunter was right—this was important. I knew that even though he wasn’t saying it, Hunter didn’t want to send her. He wanted to go himself. By the time I stepped into the school building, the bell ending first period had already rung. This was actually a good thing. If I had walked inside in the middle of first period, I would have almost certainly been stopped by Assistant Principal Collello, who seemed to think that it was his personal duty to hand out detentions to as many students as possible. But by coming in during the minutes between first and second period, I could just blend in with all the other students and make my way to class.

  I pulled off my cap and felt static running through my hair. It was probably standing on end. I decided I’d better make a quick stop at the girls’ room to check if I was presentable before wandering into class. I didn’t want to look like I was just coming in from outside, after all. A quick glance in the mirror showed me that the problem was more serious than I’d thought. My hair looked like a fright wig. I raked my fingers through it. It didn’t help. I was just concluding that the situation was hopeless when the door swung open and Bree walked in. “Morgan,” she said quickly. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been looking everywhere.” She leaned gracefully against the sink and swung her backpack from her shoulder, balancing it on the shelf in front of us.

  “I was way late.” I wet my fingers under the faucet and attempted to comb my hair with them again.

  “Do you want a brush?” Bree asked, rummaging around in her leather backpack. She finally pulled out a wide-toothed comb.

  “Fantastic,” I said, taking it from her. I pulled it through my hair, which began to settle down. Thank goodness.

  “Listen, Morgan, I need to talk to you.”

  Our eyes met in the mirror. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Well, Robbie and I finally talked. He told me that he’d spoken to you and that he thought there had been a big misunderstanding. ”

  “That’s great!” I said. “So are you guys back together?” “Well, yes,” Bree admitted. She twirled the ends of her hair. The worried gesture. I frowned. “So what’s wrong?” I asked.

  Bree looked at herself in the mirror, then looked back at me. “It’s just that—when I thought that Robbie and I were breaking up, I sort of . . .” My stomach dropped. “What?” I demanded. “What did you do?” “I sort of . . . fooled around with Matt.” “Oh my God.” I wheeled to face her. “Did you—” “No.” Bree folded her arms across her chest. “Absolutely not. Just, you know, kissing.” I couldn’t believe this. Matt Adler! My mind flashed back to the day I saw him cheating on Jenna with Raven. I felt ill. “And you didn’t tell Robbie?” “I didn’t know how to.” Bree’s voice was pleading. “I mean, it isn’t exactly cheating because I thought we were broken up. It was really just a mistake. One that willnothappen again. But I got scared that Robbie might not take it that way. So I kept my mouth shut.” I looked at her closely, trying to remain calm. I knew from personal experience with Mary K. that keeping the truth quiet was usually a mistake. “Keeping your mouth shut about this is like lying, Bree,” I told her. “It’s the same thing.” Bree bit her lip. I knew that wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. “So you’re going to talk to him?” I prompted. Bree hesitated. “I guess so.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “You might want to do it soon—like before Matt tells anyone that he made out with you.”

  Bree’s face went white. “He wouldn’t.”

  I shrugged. “He didn’t think you were cheating, either, right? So he has no reason to keep quiet about it. And I’m guessing he’ll boast.” That seemed to do it. Bree thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” she said finally. “Okay.” I handed her the brush, and she stuck it in her bag. “Did you hear about Sky?” she asked. “Just now.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Bree said. “What’s Kithic going to be like? I just can’t imagine circles without her.” She shook her head and sighed. “Me either.”

  “I don’t know, Morgan,” Bree murmured. “Sometimes I feel like everything’s falling apart.” I thought of Hunter, my father, my reined power, my family. . . . I considered telling Bree about my parents’ wanting to send me to Saint Anne’s but decided that could wait. She had enough to worry about. “Yeah,” I answered instead. “I know what you mean.” Restoration

  “With this salt, I purify my circle.” I couldn’t wait to be unbound. I sprinkled salt around the large circle I had drawn lightly on the floor of my room. It was midnight, and my family was asleep. Still, I had shoved a chair up against the door leading from my room into the bathroom and a few books up against the main door to my room. I didn’t want any more people accidentally barging into my room while I was in the middle of making magick. I picked up the lapis lazuli from where I had placed it at the center of the circle. The stone felt cool in my hand. The gentle silk of my birth mother’s green robe felt smooth against my skin, and even though my power was still reined, these two things made me feel like I was surrounded by good magick.

  Lying down in the center of the circle, I placed the smooth stone on my forehead. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do, so I decided to try casting out my senses. I could feel Hunter’s presence almost like he was in the room with me. My eyes were filled with fog that slowly began to lift slightly. As I looked around me, I saw that I was no longer in my room. I was in Hunter’s living room. Sitting across from me was Alyce. To her right was Sky; to her left was Erin. Sky’s lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Soon the others closed their eyes, and I saw their lips moving as well. They were chanting, I guessed. I watched all of this through a thin film of haze, like static from a channel that wasn’t coming in clearly. What was this spell they were casting? It looked totally unfamiliar to me.After a few moments Erin lit a black pillar candle. Then Alyce drew out a long string of thread

  and burned it over the candle so that it was broken in two. Silver flame licked up the thread, which dissolved into a fine, shimmery powder. Alyce blew on the powder so that it floated through the room, growing into a large cloud of sparkling dust. Soon everyone was covered in it. The powder gave everything it landed on a magickal glow, as if the room were bathed in the rosy light of a sunrise. All the while their lips were moving in the chant. It was eerie, like watching a suspense movie with the sound turned off, but somehow beautiful. Erin placed her fingers in a bowl of water, then passed her hand over it three times. Quite suddenly the haze began to lift, and I could see everyone clearly. At the same time I realized that for the first time in days, I didn’t have a headache. In fact, I felt wonderful, as if I’d just taken a long nap and a hot shower. I noticed that I was very, very hungry. That was when I knew that the ceremony I had just witnessed had restored my magick. “Hunter,” Sky said to me. Her voice was far away, like a voice in a dream. “Hunter, is she with us?”

  “Yes,” I said to Sky. I had spoken with Hunter’s voice, almost as if we were one person, one will. It was then that I fully understood that I was seeing through his eyes—that I was actuallywithinHunter. I wasn’t even certain whether the intention to speak had been my own or his. In the next moment I felt a rush of excitement. It was a visceral feeling, almost like lust, and once again I wasn’t sure whether the feelings were Hunter’s or my own. Suddenly I felt very self-conscious.

  “Welcome to the circle, Morgan,” Erin said. There was so much I wanted to say—I wanted everyone to know how grateful I was to have my magick back; I wanted Sky to know that I was sorry she was leaving. But the power of the moment was i
ntense, and it seemed inappropriate to address anything but the grim task at hand. I focused my energy on Hunter’s presence. I felt a warm rush of strength and love and somehow knew that Hunter was sending me his emotions. I pulled those feelings around me like a blanket. Erin pulled the book, still wrapped in its dark shroud, from its place beside her and placed it in her lap. After untying the silk cover, she turned to a page she had marked with a red bookmark. Erin closed her eyes for a moment and seemed to take a deep breath to steady herself. Then she opened her eyes and began to read the spell aloud. The words were harsh and ugly, half of them written in an ancient language that I didn’t understand—one that seemed older than any language I’d heard before. They seemed to force their way out of Erin’s throat, as if she could hardly bear to utter them. Alyce’s eyes were closed, and she was grimacing as if in pain with every word Erin spoke. Sweat broke out on Sky’s forehead, and a bead trickled down the side of her face. Even I felt dizzy and tired, although I couldn’t tell whether it was the effect of the spell or the strain of experiencing the circle through Hunter. I felt a current run through me like a bolt of electricity, and I knew it was the power of the circle growing and combining, running through all of us. I felt a wave of exhaustion—Hunter’s, I was almost certain. Alyce’s face was flushing pink, then darker red. Her grimace grew wider, and it seemed like she could hardly bear what was happening. Tendrils of her gray hair worked their way loose from her long braid. I noticed this in a moment, a period of time shorter than a heartbeat, then slowly, slowly, the haze began to return. The scene was filling with fog that grew thicker with each passing moment.What’s happening?I thought frantically, but not fast enough. The words beat back against me as if I was

  shouting into the wind. I felt certain that they had reached no one—not even Hunter. I became aware of a sound, a sound very much like the roaring ocean beating against the rocks,

  then drawing back, then beating once again against the rocks. It was a sound I knew, though it

  took me a moment to place it.

  It was the sound of my breathing.

  I opened my eyes and found myself in my own room. I tried to cast out my senses again for Hunter but found that I couldn’t. Hunter, Sky, Alyce, and Erin—had their magick been sapped, too? Did that mean the spell had been successful? I had no idea—I hoped so. I couldn’t believe that everything had happened so quickly. I struggled to sit up, and the lapis lazuli fell from my forehead with a thunk against the floor. I picked it up and held it against my lips for a moment.

  I felt like hell.

  Standing up, I pulled off Maeve’s robe and folded it carefully. Then I yanked on a flannel nightgown and crept to the hiding place where I kept all of my mother’s tools, behind the HVAC vent, and carefully put the robe back in its place. I set the lapis lazuli on my nightstand. Crawling into bed, I gently lifted Dagda’s soft form and placed him at the end of the bed. I stroked his fur, then pulled the covers over me.

  Staring into the darkness, I wished I could call Hunter . . . just to hear his voice and to know whether the spell had worked. It seemed cruel to have my magick back—to feel it flowing through me so fiercely for a few moments—and then to have it ripped away again. Still, I knew the magick would return. And I knew that Hunter would, too. And if there was one thing I had learned how to do lately, it was wait. I expected to feel better when I woke up the next morning, which is why it was such a rude shock when I still felt horrible. Every muscle ached, and when I tried to sit up, my body actually shook with the effort. Still, I forced myself over to my dresser and pulled on some fresh clothes. I had to go to school today—my history paper was due. I’d spent practically every spare moment, every lunch period and study hall, working on it. Even if it wouldn’t help my quest to stay out of Catholic school, I wasn’t about to let those precious twenty points of extra credit go without a fight.

  I thought I’d never make it to fifth period. But when I walked into history class and placed my paper on Mr. Powell’s desk, I felt proud of myself and happy. Even though my parents had never approved of my topic, the paper was good, and I knew it. After school I came home and fell straight into bed. I didn’t wake up until eight o’clock, when my mom appeared in my bedroom with a tray, looking worried. “Are you all right, Morgan?” she asked.

  “Fine,” I said, my voice thick from sleep. “I just stayed up late last night. I had to hand in my history paper today.” Both of these things were true, although unrelated. My mom nodded. “I made you some soup.” She placed the tray on the floor by my bed. “Lean forward.”

  I obeyed, and she plumped up the pillows behind me. Then she placed the tray on my lap. The soup was minestrone—one of my favorites. “Delicious,” I said when I’d had a spoonful. “I didn’t wake you because I figured you needed your rest,” my mom said. “Besides, Dad and I like to have a romantic dinner alone sometimes.” “Where’s Mary K.?” I asked.

  “She’s over at Alisa’s house.” Mom traced a finger over the edge of my afghan. “Apparently Alisa was out sick today. Mary K. went over to give her the Spanish assignment.” My mother studied the pattern in the blanket carefully. I knew she was holding something back. Almost as if she felt me looking at her, my mom leaned over and brushed my hair away from my face.

  “I really don’t feel sick,” I assured her. “I was just tired. I feel better already.” I think my mom could tell I was lying, but she didn’t press me. Instead, she just stood up. “Leave the tray by your bed when you’re finished,” she instructed. “I’ll come back and get it later.” “Thanks, Mom,” I said.

  She nodded and closed the door behind her as she left. I had another spoonful of soup and realized that I really did feel better—a little better, anyway. For once my mom and I hadn’t argued about grades, or beliefs, or Catholic school. It had seemed, for a moment, almost like we were back to normal.

  Almost.

  Flame

  By the time I stumbled downstairs and into the kitchen on Saturday morning, Mary K. was already dressed and stacking the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. “Is Alisa there?” Mary K. asked, and I realized she was talking into the cordless as she straightened up and closed the dishwasher. “She is?” There was a long pause. “What’s wrong?” An even longer pause. “Oh. Okay.” Mary K. reached out and gripped the countertop. “Can she have visitors? ” she asked. “Well, thanks, Mr. Soto,” she said finally. “Tell her . . . tell her I hope she gets better soon.” Mary K.’s eyebrows drew together in a worried frown as she clicked off the phone and placed it on the counter.

  I was tempted to sneak away—this was none of my business—but Mary K.’s expression disturbed me. I cleared my throat to let her know I was there, and asked, “Everything okay?”

  Mary K. turned to face me. Her eyebrows lifted, and for a moment I thought she was going to yell at me for eavesdropping, but she seemed to change her mind. “Alisa’s really sick,” she said finally. “She’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh,” I said. A feeling of dread squeezed my lungs. “What’s wrong?” Mary K.’s voice shook a little. “Nobody knows. All they know is that it’s serious. She’s . . . she’s not even conscious. Her dad is really freaked out.” “Oh my God, Mary K.” I went over to her and hugged her. “That’s horrible.” Mary K. started to cry. I didn’t say anything. . . . I just rubbed her back the way I used to do when we were children. After a few moments she took a couple of shaky breaths. “It’s just scary,” she whispered into my shoulder.

  “I know,” I replied. “But she’s in the hospital now. The doctors are there—they’ll figure out what’s wrong with her.” I rubbed her back again. “It’s going to be okay.” I hoped it was true. Mary K. pulled away from me. “Morgan,” she said, and stopped. “What?” I asked.

  “Morgan, I’m sorry I told Mom and Dad about your friend.” It took a minute for me to figure out who she was talking about. “You mean Erin?” I asked. “I was just so s-s-scared.” Another tear squeezed out of the corner of Mary K.’s eye and
trickled down the side of her cheek. I brushed it away. “I know,” I said. “It’s okay.”

  We looked at each other a moment. “I don’t want anything to happen,” Mary K. said. “It won’t,” I assured her.

  “How do you know?” she demanded. “I mean—why are you risking it?” I sighed. “Mary K., magick isn’t just horrible, dangerous, dark things. It can also be beautiful and wonderful. It’s part of who I am. And I’m”—How could I put it?—“I’m strong. You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” The words were more forceful than I really believed, but saying them actually made me feel better. They seemed to have the same effect on Mary K. She straightened up and passed her hands over her face, then she tucked her hair behind her ears. “Morgan—would you take me to see Alisa?” “Of course,” I said quickly. I was about to ask whether she wanted to go right now, but then I remembered. “Oh, crap, I’m grounded. We’ll have to ask Mom and Dad if it’s okay.” “They’re out running errands,” Mary K. said, “and visiting hours are only until three.” “Can we go tomorrow?”

  Mary K. nodded. “Sure. That would be great.” She started to head out of the room, then turned back. “Thanks, Morgan,” she said.

  I nodded. “No problem.”

  Mary K. smiled at me, and for a moment she looked just like the sister I knew—the one who loved me, no matter what.

  That night I moped around the house for a couple of hours. The house was deserted—Mom and Dad were over at the Berkows’ for dinner, and Mary K. had gone over to her friend Susan’s house. My parents had given me permission to watch television, but there was nothing decent on any of the channels. My chest ached. I still felt awful from the previous night’s spell, but more than that, I was sad about tonight’s circle. It would be the last one with Sky, and I was missing it. What I needed was magick, and if I couldn’t go to Sharon’s house along with the rest of Kithic, I could at least try to scry by myself. Maybe some of my power had returned. Up in my room, the match hissed and flared as I lit my pillar candle. I breathed deeply and stared