But she would remind herself that he had tried to rape her, and she didn’t feel quite so guilty...which bizarrely only made her feel more guilty. But should she feel sorry for simply defending herself? Hadn’t Derek gotten what he deserved?
The whole thing was enough to make her feel she was losing her mind. And it certainly didn’t help that Brittany was constantly crying about Derek’s condition. Of course, Brittany had no idea what her boyfriend had done that night after the poetry reading, so it was only natural that she’d be distraught.
But Karen still couldn’t take it.
So here she was at the campus library. She’d come in an hour earlier and had tried to avoid Penelope as much as possible, going to Robin for her assignments. To Penelope’s credit, she seemed to be steering clear of Karen.
Now Karen was upstairs with a cartload of stuff to be shelved in the special reference section. To make room in the library, some shelves collapsed in on themselves along a track, like bleachers, and had to be opened with a hand crank. They were a bit hard to open, so Karen had to use both hands to crank the shelves open, then started putting away the materials.
When she heard someone say her name softly, she stiffened, thinking it was Penelope. However, when she turned she found it was her roommate.
Which wasn’t really any better.
“He’s awake,” Brittany said.
The words hit Karen like a punch to the gut. “Derek? He’s awake?”
“Yes. His sister called me from the hospital, said he woke up about an hour ago.”
“What did he say about what happened to him?”
Brittany shrugged. “According to his sister, he says he doesn’t remember anything about that night, has no idea what he was even doing in the graveyard.”
Oh I know what he was doing there, Karen thought, and I’m sure he does too.
“I’m going to the hospital to see him. Will you come with me?”
Another gut punch. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re my friend, and it’s been hard enough seeing him lying in that bed unconscious, but now that he’s awake and he knows that he may have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair...I just need you with me.”
The prospect of having to face Derek, reliving what he put her through, was too much. “I can’t go.”
“Why not? I told you, I need you there with me.”
“I...I’m at work. I can’t just leave.”
Brittany stepped into the aisle, her tears dry as anger and hurt filled her eyes. “You had no problem skipping out on work Monday and Tuesday, but now when I need a friend the most, you’re suddenly a workaholic? I thought we were besties.”
“Really? Because you haven’t exactly been treating me like your bestie ever since you became a Stepford Student.”
“Okay, fine, I admit it. I’ve been a bitch to you since we got to college. Is this your payback, acting like a bitch to me when someone I love is in the hospital?”
Karen laughed before she could stop herself. “Oh, now you’re in love with him? Get a grip, Brittany. Truth is, you barely know Derek. And besides, weren’t you two on some kind of a break or something?”
Brittany stared at the shelves, her body trembling. Karen thought she was trying to hold back more tears and felt a brief twinge of remorse for lashing out at her roommate, but when Brittany turned her gaze back on Karen there was blazing fire in those eyes. “This is typical, your jealousy showing itself again.”
“Jealousy? What on earth do I have to be jealous of?”
“You’re jealous because I found a great guy like Derek.”
“Again, you barely know him. He may not be as great as you think.”
Karen pushed past Brittany and left the aisle, returning to her cart. Behind her, Brittany said, “Haven’t heard anything about your two beaus in the past several days? What happened? Even the rejects you would attract realize how big a loser you are?”
Karen gripped the railing on the cart. The cart was vibrating, and the books piled on top of it shaking. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to still her mind before something terrible happened. “Brittany, you need to go now.”
“You know,” Brittany said with a snort, “when Derek first met you, he told me his impression of you, and I have to agree with him. You just need a good fuck!”
And just like that the tenuous grip Karen had on her power released, like a slimy rope slipping through her hands. The cart hurtled away from her, careening across the library until it crashed into the far wall, books flying in all directions like shrapnel. Simultaneously, beside Karen the hand crank for the collapsible shelves began to spin, so fast that it became a blur of color. Realizing what was happening, she turned to call out to her roommate, to tell her to get out of the aisle, but it was too late.
The shelves collapsed in on Brittany.
* * *
Karen sat in Penelope’s office, wiping her eyes and nose. She’d gone through half a box of tissue already. When the office door opened, she looked up apprehensively, expecting it to be another police officer, but it was just the librarian.
“They’re all gone,” Penelope said, taking a seat on the edge of her desk. “The cops, the administrators, the EMS. They’re closing down the library for a few days though.”
“Any word on Brittany?”
“All I know is they said she was stable when they took her away in the ambulance.”
Karen blew her nose and tossed the tissue into the wastebasket. “I can’t believe they didn’t ask me more questions.”
“Don’t worry, I took care of it.”
Karen looked up at her. “Took care of it...how?”
“I told them that crank had been malfunctioning for a few weeks and that I’d reported it to Steve with maintenance just this past Monday.”
“Is that true?”
“No, but I persuaded Steve to corroborate my story.”
“Persuaded?”
A faint smile curled the corners of Penelope’s lips. “Being a witch sometimes has its perks.”
“Yeah, like nearly killing your best friend because of a stupid argument.”
“Karen, don’t blame yourself over that. You were provoked.”
“So what? Just because someone makes me mad doesn’t give me the right to go all Carrie-at-the-prom. I could have killed her.”
“I know, but that’s why I’m trying to help you learn to harness and control your powers.”
“I feel like I have less control than when I met you,” Karen said, standing and pacing around the office. “I mean, once upon a time all I could do was make items shake a little, but now I’m Voldermort all of a sudden.”
“You’ve simply become aware of the true scope of your potential. That’s why it’s more important than ever that you have a teacher to guide you through this.”
“And you’re the witch for the job, huh?”
“I can help you, Karen, if you’ll just give me the chance.”
“And in exchange I’ll help you bring your dead son back to life, is that the deal?”
Penelope closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Karen could feel pain radiating from the woman like heat. It was enough to make her soften toward the librarian....
But she reminded herself that Penelope would not be in so much pain if she had just let her son go instead of dragging his spirit around everywhere she went. It prevented her from moving on...and prevented Bobby from moving on as well, Karen suspected. Penelope was a woman obsessed, and she had lied to and manipulated Karen—that should not be forgotten.
“You know,” Karen said, “I think you’re right. I do need someone to teach and guide me.”
“That’s all I’m saying. If you’ll just let me—”
“Not you.”
Penelope recoiled as if struck. “What?”
“I do need a teacher, but it’s not going to be you.”
Before the librarian had a chance to respond, Karen hurried out of the office an
d out of the library. As far as she was concerned, she planned never to return.
Chapter 11
Karen didn’t want to go back to the room. Looking at Brittany’s things right now would be too painful. Instead, she wandered down to the lake, intending to set up shop at her favorite spot by the clock tower.
However, as she walked across campus, she felt eyes on her, heard whispers. It might have only been in her imagination, but she didn’t think so. Word spread quickly on a college campus, and something like what happened to Brittany right on top of what happened to Derek was sure to get the winds of gossip blowing. And there had surely been people in the library who’d overheard the argument between Karen and Brittany, so despite Penelope’s story about the malfunctioning crank, rumors that Karen was responsible for the accident were probably already circulating.
Which, of course, she was, though not in the way that anyone would likely imagine.
Not in the mood for this scrutiny, real or imagined, Karen went around the lake and onto the Swamp Rabbit Trail, turning toward downtown Greenville. She didn’t plan to walk the entire seven miles, but she would walk at least a couple of miles before returning to campus. Just to clear her head so she could think about recent events and what she was going to do about them.
The day was overcast and chilly, but there were still a good number of walkers, joggers, and bikers out on the trail. She kept her head down, hands in her coat pockets, and watched her feet shuffle through dried leaves. She let the tears flow freely, not caring if those she passed saw.
She had felt alone since coming to Furman, like such a total freak. Then she’d met Penelope and had thought she’d finally found someone who could understand her, someone to whom she could share her deepest secrets without fear of judgement, someone she could learn from...only that person had turned out to be a liar and quite probably dangerous.
Karen found herself flashing on a line from The Wizard of Oz: “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?”
Then again, while she was on the subject, was Karen a good witch or a bad witch? She’d always thought of herself as a moral person, but her recent actions....
Okay, what she’d done to Derek might have been extreme, but it had also been self-defense, therefore justifiable. But Brittany? Yes, she was acting like a snot, which was nothing new lately, but that was no excuse for....
Attempted murder came to mind. At first Karen balked, but why? Wasn’t that exactly what it was?
“But I didn’t mean to,” Karen mumbled, causing an older couple passing her in the opposite direction to glance her way.
And that was true, she hadn’t meant to do it. She’d simply been upset and angry, and her temper had gotten loose before she could stop it.
Which, as a defense, was pretty damn lame.
What if instead of using her powers, Karen had gotten angry and picked up a hammer and bludgeoned Brittany over the head? Standing trial, telling the judge and jury that her temper had simply flared before she could stop it, but she hadn’t meant to do it, probably wouldn’t win her freedom.
So where did that leave her? She had powers greater than she realized, and it would be irresponsible of her not to learn to control them, to prevent them from lashing out and hurting anyone else. And Penelope had offered to help her.
Except Penelope had also proven herself untrustworthy. Which left Karen only one avenue that she could see.
She finally looked up from her feet and saw that she’d walked nearly a mile and a half. Ahead, just off the trail, was the old boxcar. As she approached, she was only mildly surprised to see Jacoby leaning against it.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said. She picked up a vibe of sadness from him, and his usual bouncy spirit was absent. The lack of his trademark enthusiasm rendered him almost unrecognizable.
Karen stepped off the trail and walked up to him. They stared at one another for a full minute before she said, “So, did the coven send you?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m getting used to being lied to.”
“I never lied to you,” Jacoby said. “Not about anything that mattered. I’m your friend, and I’m here to help. That’s the whole reason I exist.”
“Well, in all fairness, Boden and Avandale tried to warn me about Penelope.”
Jacoby frowned. “Who?”
“Oh, what were the witch names they gave me? Crashing Waves and Night Eagle, I think.”
“Yes, the whole coven was concerned. That’s why they sent me to you, to try to help.”
Karen laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. Penelope wanted to help, the coven wanted to help...funny how everyone’s idea of helping included subterfuge.
“I don’t understand why you just didn’t tell me. I mean, you told me you knew Bobby and his mother, why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”
“Would you have believed me?”
Karen thought about this for a moment. “Probably not, but I still think I’d prefer the truth.”
“The truth is the coven just wants to help.”
Karen took a deep breath and said, “I want to meet them.”
* * *
There were seven of them, Boden and Jacoby the only men. They all insisted on using their “witch names,” except Jacoby. He didn’t seem to have one; perhaps he was a novice who hadn’t yet been initiated. There was still so much about this world that Karen didn’t know.
They had gathered in a cramped studio apartment in the West End of Greenville. Karen perched on the edge of a recliner that had electrical tape repairing several rips and smelled vaguely of mildew. Four coven members sat across from her on a ratty sofa that also seemed rescued from a garbage heap. Two others were on the edge of a Murphy bed. Jacoby sat by himself on a beanbag in the opposite corner. Even though Karen had agreed to come with him to meet the coven, bringing him in her car, he was still withdrawn and morose.
“We’re so glad you’ve decided to join us, Still Waters,” Boden said from the sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
Karen bristled at this. “I haven’t joined you, and I told you to call me Karen.”
“We only use our witch names in the coven,” said a middle-aged woman with dyed-black hair who called herself Crimson Petal. She was sitting on the bed next to a wisp of a girl whose facial features were so similar that she could only be Crimson’s daughter.
“Well, I’m not part of the coven, am I?”
“Not yet,” Boden said.
“I didn’t say anything about signing up.”
“Then why are you here?” asked the wisp. Karen didn’t know her name, but she sensed her hostility.
“I came here for some answers.”
Boden leaned back, spreading his arms wide. “Any knowledge we possess is yours.”
“I want to know about Penelope.”
“You mean Morgane Aster.”
“No, I mean Penelope.”
“If she’s not going to respect our traditions by using the witch names, I don’t know why we’re bothering with this,” said the wisp.
“Calm down, Willow,” Crimson said, patting the girl on the arm. “Still Waters is new to our world.”
Willow...Karen wondered if she was named after the tree or the lesbian witch on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Either way, it was the most normal name she’d heard so far.
Turning her attention to Boden, who seemed to be the leader, Karen said, “You kicked Penelope out of the coven because she wanted to bring her son back from the dead. Is that right?”
“When it became apparent that this was her goal and that she wanted the coven to help her achieve it, yes, we banished her. We tried to talk to her first, to get her to see that what she wanted broke all the natural laws, but she would not heed us.”
“Is it possible? I mean, can a person really be brought back from the dead?”
Boden looked uncomfortable, as if experiencing painful gas, and shifted o
n the sofa. “It would require a tremendous amount of power, but theoretically, yes, it could be done.”
“But Bobby has been dead since 1999. His body would be decomposed.”
“It isn’t the flesh she would be attempting to reanimate. She would have to install his soul into another body.”
“Another body? What would happen to the original soul of that body?”
“I really don’t see how any of this is relevant,” said Crimson.
“It’s relevant because I want to know, and after everything, I think I deserve some answers.”
“Agreed,” Boden said with a nod. “If Morgane—I’m sorry, Penelope—were to try to install her son into the body of someone living, it would displace the original soul. Evicting it, if you will.”
“Meaning that person would become a ghost instead of Bobby?”
“Ghost is a Halloween term, but the spirit would either linger or move on to whatever comes after this life.”
“So Penelope would in essence have to murder someone to bring back her son?”
“If she went that route. However, that way would be unpredictable. A soul being forcibly displaced from its body would react with desperation and make the process much more difficult. More than likely, she would try to put the soul into the body of someone recently deceased.”
Karen let this sink in for a moment, processing all this new information. Finally she took a deep breath and said, “So it’s possible that she could do it without actually harming anyone.”
“The body would have to be incredibly fresh, fresh enough so that the brain would not have started to deteriorate.”
“But it is possible?”
“It’s unnatural!” This from Avandale, sitting on Boden’s left.
“Penelope explained to me the difference between natural and unnatural death, and Bobby was hit by a car, a manmade object, so his death was unnatural.”
Crimson scoffed at this. “We’ve all heard Morgane’s rationalizations. I assure you, nothing in any of the tenants of Wicca support her views.”
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