Cam knew that Shane’s parents, followers of Thantos, had kicked him out when he renounced his loyalty to the terrible tracker. She was about to ask why he hadn’t gone to Lord Karsh, or any of Coventry’s Exalted Elders, most of whom knew Thantos’s flaws. “But why —” She got that far, when he whirled suddenly, his blue cloak billowing.
“Watch this,” he cut short her question. From the leather pouch on his belt he pulled a handful of green leaves and purple berries. Mumbling an incantation, words lost in the sea wind, he tossed the herbs into the turbulent air, which carried them to the cliff where Epona was tethered.
Above them, the great horse shied and whinnied pitifully. And then his sweat-sheened black body began to change color. His legs turned green, his body gold, and his mane a crimson red.
“Do you recognize him now?” Shane challenged.
Cam didn’t. All she saw was a shivering horse beginning to froth at the mouth. “Please change him back,” she begged.
Shane stared at her for a second, his eyes searching hers. “Can’t you do it?” he asked.
Cam clasped her necklace. It was cold and still. No warmth trembled through it; no spell came to mind. “No,” she admitted. “Please, Shane.”
He put his arm around her, enfolded her now-chilled body in the soothing heat of his cloak. So quickly that anyone with eyes less talented than Cam’s might have missed it, Shane reached inside his shirt and grasped a crystal horseshoe-shaped medallion that had been hidden there, secured around his neck by a leather thong. This time he made no attempt to muffle his incantation.
“Powers of sea, sky, and land,” Shane called into the wind, “release this creature at my command. Return him to black, tall and tame. Hide the bright form in which he came.”
It was a mystifying spell. Cam had no idea what it meant, but Epona’s misery ended. The horse stood calm again, black, tall, and tame, as Shane had ordered.
“What was that?” Cam asked, shaken but impressed. “What did you mean about the ‘form’ in which he came? Where did he come from?”
Again, Shane’s blue eyes scoured her face. And when he was satisfied that she really didn’t know the answer, he said, “From the sea, according to legend. I mean, all the horses on the island were supposed to have come from the sea. I don’t remember the whole story. Probably swam ashore from a stranded ship or something.”
Cam glanced again at the huge animal. He snorted and pawed the earth above them. “I never heard that incantation before —” she told Shane, studying Epona, looking for a trace of the bold colors he’d displayed only moments before.
“It’s pretty basic,” he said, quickly changing the subject. “Cam, I’ve made such a mess of my life, misused the powers I was blessed with —”
She looked at him.
“None of what I told you is a real excuse,” Shane said. “I’m ashamed to say I just followed along, first with Thantos, then with Sersee. Then I met you. That’s when I knew for sure that I had to change. But by then, I was too deeply entrenched. I’m so, so sorry, Cam.”
Cam felt herself tearing up. Her heart went out to him, to the little lost boy he’d been, battered, betrayed, booted from his home. Maybe she’d sensed that all along. Maybe that’s why her feelings toward him defied reason.
Shane covered her hands with his and looked into her eyes. Maybe we’re soul mates.
Cam’s eyes widened. Had she done it? Read someone’s mind who wasn’t related to her? “Were you just thinking …?”
Shane blushed, and Cam had her answer. She was developing higher skills. On her own. Something else hit her. She’d not thought about Jason since she got here. Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe Jason had to leave so she could see her way clear to Shane.
Cam had not been lying when she’d told Alex she needed to come to Coventry to see if Shane had been sincere about doing a 180. But there was a greater good, a higher purpose. She knew it now. Her mission as a witch was to heal, to help, to be sure all things — did that not include people? — might grow to their most bountiful goodness.
Shane needed her.
“I do, Cam. You have no idea how much.” He’d read her mind again. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him into the warm shelter of his cloak.
As she closed her eyes to receive his kiss, his crystal horseshoe pendant brushed her sun charm and produced a strange and startling shock.
A real buzzkill.
Cam returned to Crailmore late in the day. She found Miranda in the herb garden. Her mother had traded her flowing cape for more practical overalls and a broad-brimmed straw hat to shield her face from the afternoon sun. She heard her daughter’s approach and greeted her with a smile.
Which Cam returned one hundredfold.
Miranda’s heart quickened. Her daughter — one of the two precious children she’d once thought were lost to her forever — was so beautiful, so radiant in her unconcealed joy. “Things went well,” she ventured.
“It was unbelievable.” Cam couldn’t stop smiling.
“Tell me all about it,” her mother urged. “Here.” She handed Cam a trowel and a small pot in which a delicate pale green shoot grew. “You can help me. I’m putting in some new lavender.”
In Marble Bay, Cam had never gardened. The Barnes’ family hired landscapers for that. But right now she felt she could do anything. She was overflowing with energy … and love. She took the tool Miranda handed her and absentmindedly hugged the little terra-cotta pot while recalling her wonderful day.
Her words tumbled out in a seemingly endless stream. She explained the cruel circumstances that had led Shane astray and confided how desperately he wanted to reform. She wondered if Miranda might help him. He was such a misunderstood boy and needed so much to be loved and accepted.
Miranda smiled and nodded and expressed not a word of doubt until Cam mentioned the horse.
“His name is Epona. Shane said that horses are an important part of our heritage —”
Miranda looked up from the fragrant lavender seedling she was transplanting. “Epona?” She brushed the dirt off her hands and faced her daughter, trying to disguise her alarm. “A red horse?” she asked.
“No, he’s totally black. But Shane was trying to impress me and he put a spell on —”
“Did he come from the sea?” Miranda interrupted.
“The horse?” Cam shrugged. “In a way, I guess. Shane said all the horses on the island …” She let it trail off. Miranda seemed suddenly upset. “What happened? What’s wrong?” Cam urged.
“Nothing,” her mother insisted. “The heat of the day. I’ve been out here since … early afternoon.”
“It’s about Epona, isn’t it?” Cam guessed. “He was a little high-strung at first, but he settled down quickly. It was okay. I’m fine.”
But even as she tried to reassure her mother, a wave of nausea rocked her. Her head began to pound. The pounding became the sound of a horse’s hooves galloping toward her. Instead of Epona, it was a red horse that came charging. His body was wet with sea foam and as he approached, his coat bled into the strange colors of Shane’s spell. His wild mane remained red but his legs grew green and his body a translucent gold.…
“The death horse galloping out of the sea,” Miranda was saying. Cam didn’t know how long she’d been lost in her vision, but her mother was standing now, looking troubled. “In legends, he is sometimes red, sometimes black, and sometimes strangely colored. His mission was to pull the chariot of the sun god across the sky each day.”
The sun god. Apollo. The one she’d been named for, the one that held the key to her earliest powers.
“And then to carry the dead across the water —”
Cam squinted up at her mother, trying to understand what Miranda was talking about.
“But perhaps your friend didn’t know that particular legend. And, of course, they’re not all about death and chaos. There are so many tales and myths of the magical power of horses,” her mother quickly backpedal
ed. “Stallions tamed are said to become talismans of strength and virility. Some believe that the imprint of a horse’s footprint is a symbol of power. Another superstition has it that to possess a horseshoe is good luck, that it means you are under its protection —”
A horseshoe — like Shane’s crystal pendant…
Miranda picked up her gardening tools and walked with Cam back to the house to get ready for dinner. As they passed through the massive doors, Cam thought she heard her mother say, “The time has come to tell them. Ileana is going to have to cut her vacation short.”
“Tell who what?” Cam asked without thinking.
Miranda seemed startled. “I didn’t say anything,” she said.
CHAPTER SIX
BREAKING THE RULES
Alex had made a rule. She would not break into Cade’s head. She wanted a real relationship with him, a normal relationship. Which meant no mind reading. Except in an emergency.
She owed the baffled boy an explanation for her bizarro behavior, something believable and forgivable. What she didn’t know was exactly how freaked he was, or if he still wanted a relationship with the wacko he now probably thought she was.
The quickest way to his heart, she rationalized, was through his brain. If this didn’t qualify as a 911, what did?
Immediately after promising Michaelina that she’d give the persistent pixie one last chance at friendship, Alex had biked back to the Heights, to the imposing house where Cade was hanging for the summer.
A thirty-something woman wearing pearls with her silk sweater set and color-coordinated slacks met her at the door. “Alex?” the utter stranger said, her hand rushing to her throat as if to choke off the next line on her mind, which was, This can’t be the girl Cade has been brooding about.
Alex looked at herself. She hadn’t stopped to consider what she must look like. After two long bike rides in one humidity-drenched day, she was not a pretty sight. Her shirt was sticky with sweat. She ran a hand through her hair, confirming the worst — lavender-streaked layers were in a total tangle. As for the eye makeup she never wore — except for today when she’d raided Cam’s cabinet — it had undoubtedly smeared and left her with rank raccoon eyes. Alex tried to swab away the mess, then mindlessly wiped her mascara-smudged hand on her already rancid T-shirt.
The woman at the door winced. A nanosecond later her shocked expression changed to a welcoming smile. “How rude of me. I’m Moira McDonald,” she announced. “Cade’s out back, on the deck. He’s been quiet since he got back, but I have a feeling he’s been hoping you’d show up. Why don’t you come in and wash up first? I’ll lend you a top.”
“That’d be great,” Alex said, hoping she sounded grateful. But as she followed Cade’s keeper up the stairs, she wondered uneasily if the top would be silk — or worse, pink?
It turned out to be a skinny black tee, which she slipped into distractedly, because through the guest room window she spotted Cade. And Alex did what she’d told herself she wouldn’t. Like a burglar listening for the clicks of a combination lock, she closed her eyes and strained to catch his thoughts.
In spite of the CD player on his lap and the headset parting his sleek black hair, the buff boy was stressing. About her! Even as she listened in she could feel her cheeks begin to burn. Why’d she do that, Cade was thinking. She led me on, then freaked when I tried to kiss her. I just don’t get it. Unless … oh, man, maybe she was really sick — a manic-depressive or something — upbeat one minute, scared and suspicious the next? She might have needed help instead of someone booking on her. I could have stayed. But what if she meant to blow me off?
Alex abandoned her spy post and hurried down to him.
With the headset clamped in place, he hadn’t heard her coming out and turned, startled, when she tapped him on the shoulder. Relief and joy played across his handsome face, followed by a quizzical look. “Insanity? That’s your defense?”
Her fragile confidence crumbled until Cade pointed to the T-shirt she was wearing, the one Moira-with-the-pearls had given her. It said, INSANITY IS HEREDITARY. YOU GET IT FROM YOUR CHILDREN.
Alex managed a nervous laugh. “Would temporary insanity work for you?” she asked hopefully.
Cade’s laugh was as edgy as hers. And about as desperately hopeful. He moved over and made room for her on the slatted lounge. “Listen, Alex,” he began, when she sat beside him, “I probably shouldn’t have bolted like that —” He reached for her hand, which she gave awkwardly, and she listened, with mingled guilt and gratitude, as he told her, practically word for word, the thoughts she’d eavesdropped on.
“I’m sorry I didn’t hang around to find out what was really going on,” he ended, looking at her questioningly. Expecting an explanation.
Alex desperately wanted to tell him the truth. She could practically taste the words, hear them as they tumbled from her mouth. But she said nothing.
“You got scared, was that it?” he prompted. “That’s why you pulled away and acted so weird?”
“No, Cade. I wasn’t scared, not really. I just…” Alex paused and took a deep breath. Maybe one day she’d be able to be totally honest with him. But not today, not now. And yet she didn’t want lie to him, either.
She could, and did, murmur, “It won’t happen again, I promise you.” And when she looked up at him, he leaned toward her.
“So,” she continued very softly, her voice sticking in her throat, “if you’re willing to —”
“Take it from where we left off?” He finished the thought and punctuated it with a long, gentle, soulful kiss. The one she’d been remembering.
“I have a confession,” Cade whispered.
“About why you really came back,” Alex asked, touching her lips, which still held the memory of his and felt as if they were softly vibrating, practically purring.
“You read my mind.”
“Nuh-uh, not this time,” she murmured forgetfully.
He shot her a look, then smiled and explained. Months of convincing and compromising had gone into getting his dad to allow him to come back. Mr. Richman had already made plans for his son. He’d secured Cade a summer internship with a big-deal corporation headquartered in London. The compromise for allowing Cade to return to Marble Bay started tomorrow: a nine-to-five summer gig working with his father’s friend, Moira’s husband, a vice president at a law firm in Boston. “My dad’s got my whole life mapped out,” Cade told her.
“But it’s not what you want?” Alex ventured.
“I don’t know what I want. Maybe I’ll end up on the path he’s clearing for me. But right now, I’ve got to figure some things out for myself.” He didn’t add aloud, Like you, Alex … like why I needed to see you, wanted to so badly, and whether you… whether you feel… the same way.
Hours later, tired but exhilarated, Alex accepted a lift home.
She and Cade had eaten dinner with the McDonalds and spent the evening playing Trivial Pursuit and making and devouring ice-cream sundaes. Alex had a surprisingly comfortable evening.
She and Cade pulled up to the Barneses’ house just before midnight.
Cade helped get her bike off the rack on the back of the McDonalds’ SUV. “I’ll be off work tomorrow at five,” he reminded her, “so I’ll see you —”
“— at five-oh-one.” Alex gave him a peck on the cheek and a big grin.
She waltzed into the house on a cloud, only to plunge to Earth again when she grabbed the ringing phone. “Where have you been?” demanded the high-strung voice on the other end.
“Uh, hi,” she stammered. “Emily? Is it… late?”
“We’ve been calling for hours!” Cam’s adoptive mom’s panic morphed slowly into relief. “Didn’t you get the messages? We left them at home and on Cam’s cell phone. We were just about to call the …” She trailed off.
“We were really worried.” Dave had taken the phone from his wife. “We thought something had happened.”
“No, no, I’m … we’re both … fi
ne,” Alex assured them. “Cam’s … um … she just stepped into the shower.”
There was silence. Then Dave, who knew of the girls’ true heritage and their enthusiasm for helping and healing, gave her an out. “Were you … needed somewhere?” he asked softly.
“Totally,” Alex concurred. “But everything’s fine now.”
Well, that part was true, she told herself. Cade had needed her. And for all she knew Cam was stepping into a shower … on Coventry Island.
“Good,” Dave said. “Tell Cam we called. Everything’s good here. It’ll probably be easier to reach us by e-mail than phone. Ask Cam to check in, okay?”
“E-mail.” Alex was on it instantly. She promised them Cam would send a message as soon she got out of the shower.
They would have received one, with Alex pretending to be her long-gone twin, only Cade called. She never made it to the computer, but fell asleep talking to him instead.
Michaelina flung open the door to her apartment before Alex knocked. “So, can I pass for a mainlander?” she demanded, twirling on toe shoes.
“Dude, you can’t even pass Go,” Alex informed her. Somewhere in the style wilderness of pop divas, Michaelina had gotten very, very lost. Alex was no fashionista, but she did know a disasterpiece when it was in her face. Or in this case, dancing in the doorway of a shabby attic rental apartment.
Multiply pierced and studded, Michaelina had spared no body part in her attempt — or rather, stab — at “mainlander.”
A line of little hoops outlined her ear rims and perforated her left nostril; another, this one spiked like a miniature dog collar, was stuck through one eyebrow. Her thorny tattoo necklace protruded from a stretchy tank top that accented her twiglike frame. Her ankles dangled skinny and pale from pants three sizes too big. Why one leg was cuffed to the knee while the other draped her ankle was anyone’s guess. Whether meant to signify hip-hop, goth, or skater-girl, the effect was nearly as over-the-top as what she’d done with, or to, her face. Coventry Girl’s makeup — including heavy black eyeliner and thick retro white lipstick — weighed almost more than she did.
T*Witches: Split Decision Page 4