by Kami Garcia
Sixteen moons, sixteen years
Sound of thunder in your ears
Sixteen miles before she nears
Sixteen seeks what sixteen fears…
Over her shoulder, I could see her room was in shambles. The plaster on her walls was cracked and falling and her dresser was overturned, the way a thief tosses a room during a break-in. Her windows were shattered. Without the glass the small metal panes looked like prison bars from some ancient castle. The prisoner clung to me as the melody wrapped around us.
Still, the music didn’t stop.
Sixteen moons, sixteen years,
Sixteen times you dreamed my fears,
Sixteen will try to Bind the spheres,
Sixteen screams but just one hears…
The last time I was here, the ceiling had been almost completely covered in words detailing Lena’s innermost thoughts. But now, every surface of the room was covered in her distinctive black handwriting. The edges of the ceiling now read: Loneliness is holding the one you love / When you know you might never hold him again. The walls: Even lost in the darkness / My heart will find you. The doorjambs: The soul dies at the hand of the one who carries it. The mirrors: If I could find a place to run away / Hidden safely, I would be there today. Even the dresser was marred with phrases: The darkest daylight finds me here, those who wait are always watching, and the one that seemed to say it all, How do you escape from yourself? I could see her story in the words, hear it in the music.
Sixteen moons, sixteen years,
The Claiming Moon, the hour nears,
In these pages Darkness clears,
Powers Bind what fire sears…
Then the electric guitar slowed, and I heard a new verse, the end of the song. Finally, something had an ending. I tried to put the earth and fire and water and wind dreams out of my head as I listened.
Sixteenth Moon, Sixteenth Year,
Now has come the day you fear,
Claim or be Claimed,
Shed blood, shed tear,
Moon or Sun—destroy, revere.
The guitar died out, and now we were standing in silence.
“What do you think—”
She put her hand on my lips. She couldn’t bear to talk about it. She was as raw as I had ever seen her. A cold breeze was blowing past her, surrounding her, and exhaling out through the open door behind me. I didn’t know if her cheeks were red from the cold or from her tears, and I didn’t ask. We fell onto her bed and curled into one ball, until it would have been hard to sort out whose limbs were whose. We weren’t kissing, but it was like we were. We were closer than I’d ever realized two people could be.
I guess this was what it felt like to love someone, and feel like you had lost them. Even when you were still holding them in your arms.
Lena was shivering. I could feel every rib, every bone in her body, and her movements seemed involuntary. I untangled my arm from around her neck and twisted so I could grab the pieced quilt from the foot of her bed and pull it up over us. She burrowed into my chest and I pulled the quilt higher. Now it was over our heads, and we were in a dark little cave together, the two of us.
The cave became warm with our breath. I kissed her cold mouth and she kissed me back. The current between us intensified and she nuzzled her way into the hollow of my neck.
Do you think we can stay like this forever, Ethan?
We can do whatever you want. It’s your birthday.
I felt her stiffen in my arms.
Don’t remind me.
But I brought you a present.
She held up the cover, to let just a crack of light in. “You did? I told you not to.”
“Since when did I ever listen to anything you say? Besides, Link says if a girl says not to get her a birthday present that means get me a birthday present and make sure it’s jewelry.”
“That’s not true of all girls.”
“Okay. Forget it.”
She let the quilt drop, then snuggled back into my arms.
Is it?
What?
Jewelry.
I thought you didn’t want a present?
Just curious.
I smiled to myself and pulled down the quilt. The cold air hit us both at the same time, and I quickly pulled a small box out of my jeans and dove back under the covers. I lifted the quilt up so she could see the box.
“Put it down, it’s too cold.”
I let it fall, and we were surrounded by darkness again. The box began to glow with green light, and I could make out Lena’s slender fingertips as she pulled off the silver ribbon. The glow spread, warm and bright, until her face was softly lit across from mine.
“That’s a new one.” I smiled at her in the green light.
“I know. It’s been happening ever since I woke up this morning. Whatever I think, just sort of happens.”
“Not bad.”
She stared at the box wistfully, as if she was waiting as long as she could to open it. It occurred to me that this was possibly the only present Lena would get today. Aside from the surprise party I was holding off telling her about until the last minute.
Surprise party?
Whoops.
You’d better be joking.
Tell that to Ridley and Link.
Yeah? The surprise is, there isn’t going to be a party.
Just open the box.
She glared at me and opened the box, and more light came pouring out, even though the gift had nothing to do with that. Her face softened and I knew I was off the hook about the party. It was that thing, about girls and jewelry. Who knew? Link was right after all.
She held up a necklace, delicate and shining, with a ring hanging from the chain. It was a carved gold circle, three strands of gold—sort of rose colored, and yellow, and white—all braided into a wreath.
Ethan! I love it.
She kissed me about a hundred times, and I started talking, even while she was kissing me. Because I felt like I had to tell her, before she put it on, before something happened. “It belonged to my mom. I got it out of her old jewelry box.”
“Are you sure about this?” she asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. Lena knew how I felt about my mom. It was a big deal, and I felt relieved that we both could admit it. “It’s not rare or anything, like a diamond or whatever, but it’s valuable to me. I think she’d be okay with me giving it to you because, you know.”
What?
Ah.
“You’re gonna make me spell it out?” My voice sounded weird, all shaky.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not that great at spelling.” She knew I was squirming, but she was going to make me say it. I preferred our silent mode of communication. It made talking, real talking, a lot easier for a guy like me. I brushed her hair off of the back of her neck, and attached the necklace at the clasp. It hung around her neck, sparkling in the light, right above the one she never took off. “Because you’re really special to me.”
How special?
I think you’re wearing the answer around your neck.
I’m wearing a lot of things around my neck.
I touched her charm necklace. It all looked like junk, and most of it was—the most important junk in the world. And now it had become my junk, too. A flattened penny with a hole in it, from one of those machines at the food court across from the movie theater, where we had gone on our first date. A piece of yarn from the red sweater she had worn to go parking at the water tower, which had become an inside joke between us. The silver button I had given her for luck at the disciplinary meeting. My mom’s little paper-clip star.
Then you should already know the answer.
She leaned in to kiss me again, a real kiss. This was the kind of kiss that couldn’t really be called a kiss, the kind that involves arms and legs and necks and hair, the kind where the quilt finally slides down to the floor, and in this case, the windows unshatter themselves, the bureau rights itself
, the clothes return to their hangers, and the freezing cold room is finally warm. A fire burst into flame in the small, cold fireplace in her room, which was nothing compared to the heat running through my body. I felt the electricity, stronger than what I’d become used to, and my heartbeat quickened.
I pulled back, out of breath. “Where’s Ryan when you need her? We’re really going to have to figure out what to do about that.”
“Don’t worry, she’s downstairs.” She pulled me back down, and the fire in the grate crackled even louder, threatening to overpower the chimney with smoke and flame.
Jewelry, I’m telling you. It’s a thing. And love.
And maybe danger.
“Coming, Uncle Macon!” Lena turned to me and sighed. “I guess we can’t put it off any longer. We have to go down there and see my family.” She stared at the door. The bolt unlocked itself. I rubbed her back, making a face. It was over.
The day had turned to dusk by the time we made it out of Lena’s room. I had thought we’d have to sneak down to visit Kitchen, around lunchtime, but Lena simply closed her eyes and a room service cart rolled through the door and into the middle of her room. I guess even Kitchen was feeling sorry for her today. Either that, or Kitchen couldn’t resist Lena’s newfound powers any more than I could. I ate my weight in chocolate chip pancakes drenched in chocolate syrup, washed down with chocolate milk. Lena had a sandwich and an apple. Then everything dissolved back into kissing.
I think we both knew this could be the last time we lay around in her room like this. It seemed like there was nothing else we could do. The situation was what it was, and if today was all we had, then at least we would have this.
In reality, I was as terrified as I was exhilarated. But still, it wasn’t even dinnertime, and it was already the best and worst day of my life.
I grabbed Lena’s hand as we headed down the stairs. It was still warm, which was how I could tell Lena was in a better mood. The necklaces sparkled at her neck, and silver and gold candles hung in the air, as we walked through them and beneath them, down the stairs. I wasn’t used to seeing Ravenwood looking so festive and full of light, which for a second made it feel almost like a real birthday, where the people celebrating are happy and light-hearted. For a second.
Then I saw Macon and Aunt Del. They were both holding candles, and behind them, Ravenwood was shrouded in shadows and darkness. There were other dark figures moving in the background, also holding candles. Worse, Macon and Del were dressed in long, dark robes, like acolytes of a strange order, or druid priests and priestesses. It just didn’t seem like, well, a birthday party. More like a really creepy funeral.
Happy Sweet Sixteen. No wonder you didn’t want to come out of your room.
Now you see what I was talking about.
When Lena reached the last stair she paused and looked back at me. She looked so out of place in her old jeans and my oversized Jackson High hoodie. I doubted Lena had ever dressed like this in her whole life. I think she just wanted to keep a piece of me with her as long as she could.
Don’t be scared. It’s just the Binding, to keep me safe until Moonrise. The Claiming can’t happen until the moon is high.
I’m not scared, L.
I know. I was talking to myself.
She let go of my hand and took the last step down from the landing. When her foot touched the polished black floor, she was transformed. The flowing dark robes of the Binding now hid the curves of her body. The black of her hair and the black of the robes blended into a shadow that covered her from head to toe, with the exception of her face, which was as pale and luminescent as the moon itself. She touched her throat, my mother’s gold ring still hanging at her neck. I hoped it would help to remind her that I was there with her. Just as I hoped it was my mom who had been trying to help us all along.
What are they going to do to you? This isn’t going to be some freaky pagan sex thing, is it?
Lena burst out laughing. Aunt Del looked over at her, horrified. Reece smoothed her robe primly with one hand, looking superior, while Ryan started to giggle.
“Compose yourself,” Macon hissed. Larkin, somehow managing to look as cool in a black robe as he did in a leather jacket, snickered. Lena smothered the giggles down into the folds of her robe.
As their candles moved, I could see the faces nearest to me: Macon, Del, Lena, Larkin, Reece, Ryan, and Barclay. There were also faces that were less familiar. Arelia, Macon’s mother, and an older face, wrinkled and tanned. But even from where I stood, or tried to stand, she looked enough like her granddaughter that I instantly knew who she was.
Lena saw her at the same time I did. “Gramma!”
“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” The circle broke, briefly, as Lena ran over to fling her arms around the white-haired woman.
“I didn’t think you would come!”
“Of course I did. I wanted to surprise you. Barbados is an easy trip. I was here in the blink of an eye.”
She means that literally, right? What is she? Another Traveler, an Incubus like Macon?
A Frequent Flyer, Ethan. On United.
I could feel what Lena was feeling, a brief moment of relief, even if I was only feeling stranger and stranger. Okay, so my dad was certifiable, and my mom was dead, sort of, and the woman who raised me knew a thing or two about voodoo. I was okay with all of that. It was just, standing there, surrounded by the actual card-carrying, candle-bearing, robe-wearing Casters, it felt like I needed to know about a lot more than living with Amma had prepared me for. Before they started in with all the Latin and the Casting.
Macon stepped forward in the circle. Too late. He held his candle high. “Cur Luna hac Vinctum convenimus?”
Aunt Del stepped up next to him. Her candle flickered as she raised it, translating. “Why on this Moon do we come together for the Binding?”
The circle responded, holding high their candles as they chanted. “Sextusdecima Luna, Sextusdecimo Anno, Illa Capietur.”
Lena answered them in English. Her candle flared up until the flames almost seemed like they would burn her face. “On the Sixteenth Moon, the Sixteenth Year, She will be Claimed.” Lena stood in the center of the circle, with her head high. The candlelight was cast across her face from all directions. Her own candle began to burn into a strange green flame.
What’s going on, L?
Don’t worry. This is just part of the Binding.
If this was just the Binding, I was pretty sure I wasn’t ready for the Claiming.
Macon began the chant I remembered from Halloween. What had they called it?
“Sanguis sanguinis mei, tutela tua est.
Sanguis sanguinis mei, tutela tua est.
Sanguis sanguinis mei, tutela tua est.
Blood of my blood, protection is thine!”
Lena went pale. A Sanguinis Circle. That was it. She held the candle high over her head, closing her eyes. The green flame erupted into a massive orange-red flame, exploding from her candle to every other candle in the circle, lighting them as well.
“Lena!” I shouted over the sound of the explosion, but she didn’t answer. The flame sprayed up into the darkness overhead, so high I realized there couldn’t be a roof, any ceiling at all in Ravenwood tonight. I threw my arm over my eyes as the fire turned hot and blinding. All I could think about was Halloween. What if it was happening all over again? I tried to remember what they were doing that night, to fight off Sarafine. What had they been chanting? What had Macon’s mother called it?
The Sanguinis. But I couldn’t remember the words, didn’t know the Latin, and for once I wished I had joined the Classics Club.
I heard a pounding on the front door, and in an instant, the flames were gone. The robes, the fire, the candles, the darkness and the light were gone. It all just vanished. Without missing a beat, they became a regular family, standing around a regular birthday cake. Singing.
What the—?
“—Happy birthday to you!” The last few notes of the
song ended, as the pounding on the front door continued. A massive birthday cake, three tiers of pink, white, and silver, sat on the coffee table in the center of the parlor, along with a formal tea service and white linens. Lena blew out the candles, waving the smoke away from her face, where seconds before there had been billowing flame. Her family burst into applause. Back in my Jackson High sweatshirt and jeans, she looked like any other sixteen-year-old.
“That’s our girl!” Gramma put down her knitting and started to cut the cake, while Aunt Del scurried to pour the tea. Reece and Ryan carried in an enormous stack of presents while Macon sat in his Victorian wingback chair and poured himself and Barclay a scotch.
What’s going on, L? What just happened?
Someone’s at the door. They’re just being careful.
I can’t keep up with your family.
Have some cake. This is supposed to be a birthday party, remember?
The pounding on the door continued. Larkin looked up from his thick triangle of red velvet cake, Lena’s favorite. “Isn’t anyone goin’ to get the door?”
Macon brushed a crumb from his cashmere jacket, looking calmly at Larkin. “By all means, see who it is, Larkin.”
Macon looked at Lena and shook his head. She wouldn’t be answering the door today. Lena nodded and leaned back into Gramma. Smiling over cake like the doting granddaughter she really was. She patted the cushion next to her. Great. It was my turn to meet Gramma.
Then I heard a familiar voice at the door, and I knew I would rather face anyone’s gramma than what was waiting outside the door right now. Because it was Ridley and Link, Savannah and Emily and Eden and Charlotte, with the rest of their fan club, and the Jackson basketball team. None of them were wearing their daily uniform, Jackson Angels T-shirts. Then I remembered why. Emily had a smudge of dirt on her cheek. The Reenactment. I realized Lena and I had missed most of it already, and now we were going to fail history. By now, it was all over, except the evening campaign and the fireworks. Funny how an F would seem like a big deal on any other day.