Life's a Witch

by Brittany Geragotelis

I crossed the room and knelt down next to her, noticing how weak her voice still was. She was at least sitting up now, but her face was pale and she looked drained. All because she’d worked her magic on me back in my living room. Without her, I would have been done for. As far as I was concerned, she and the others were the reason I was still alive.

  “Then you won’t lose me, Sascha,” I said, laying my hand on hers just like she’d done to me back at my house. “Because I think you’re right. We need each other.”

  I looked up at everyone in the room. During the drive home, I’d managed to find time to do some thinking about our next steps. Now that I had everyone’s attention, I knew it was the best time to let them in on what I’d decided. I only hoped they’d see things the way I did.

  “So, I have good news and bad news,” I said, standing up and making my way to the middle of the room so I could see everyone better. “The bad news is that our fears have come true. The Parrishables are back and they’re out for blood. In fact, I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think I was attacked by Samuel Parris himself tonight.”

  Gasps escaped from a few mouths and whispers erupted around me.

  “Creepy old guys aside, they’re strong. Really strong. And they’re a lot more experienced in fighting battles,” I said. “They know how to find us and that we’re running scared. And if we keep letting them ambush us, they will take each and every one of us out.”

  I’d been pacing the floor as I talked, but now I turned around and looked into the eyes of my fellow Cleri as I continued on.

  “But we’re strong too,” I said, emphasizing each syllable. “I realized something tonight, guys. They want our power. I mean, think about it. They wouldn’t be coming after us otherwise. It may not seem like it, because we haven’t had much experience using our magic in a fight, but it’s true. Like Sascha said, Samuel basically confirmed it tonight. He wants us gone because we’re a threat.”

  “Yeah, but the Parrishables sort of handed our asses to us at the mall,” Jasmine said. Realizing she’d just said this out loud, she stood up a bit straighter. “I mean, you know I’m always looking for a fight, but I’m not sure everyone else is ready.”

  Emory stepped up. “What I think Jasmine’s trying to say is, how can we possibly go up against the Parrishables? We need to train, but there’s no time. We’re willing to do whatever you want us to, Hadley, I think you know that. But we need to do something more. Otherwise, how will it be enough?” Emory said.

  The others were staring at me now, waiting for me to say something. They were nervous, and honestly, so was I. What I was about to ask them to do was not only dangerous but scary. I needed them to put all their faith in me and what I was about to say without any proof that it would end in anything other than bloodshed. But I could feel it in my bones. Together we would be enough.

  “You’re right. In order to beat the Parrishables, we have to be more,” I said.

  I watched as everyone began to look around at each other, wondering what I was getting at.

  “And even if we up our game, we will be risking our lives. I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. It’s not fair that this random group of people wants us dead, even though we’ve never done anything to them,” I said. I hated that other kids our age were worrying about who was going to ask them to the winter semiformal and we were stuck here stressing over whether or not we’d still be alive long enough to even go. “Plain and simple—this sucks.”

  “Uh, Hadley? Is this supposed to be a pep talk or a pity party?” Jasmine asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and continued.

  “This sucks—but it’s not over,” I finished. “You guys did some amazing stuff while going up against the Parrishables tonight. It made me think that we may be selling ourselves short about our ability to fight back.”

  “Maybe you should’ve gotten checked out at the hospital when the others were too,” Peter said. “Sounds like you may have amnesia or something.”

  “No, really. Just hear me out,” I said. I was happy that Peter was joking around, because it meant he was starting to feel better. Turning my attention over to Sascha, I went on. “I know you did something earlier tonight. Something I’ve never seen before.”

  Sascha looked at me wide-eyed, like she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  “Now, either I was out the day Jackson taught us how to do that or you learned it somewhere else.”

  “Um, it sort of just came to me,” she said helplessly. “Look, Hadley, I’m sorry, I know we’re not supposed to—”

  “Why are you apologizing?” I asked, cutting her off. “If you hadn’t followed your instincts and done that voodoo that you do, I don’t think I would’ve survived that fight back there. I owe you my life. Don’t you ever apologize for using the power you’ve been given. Any of you.”

  Even though Sascha looked embarrassed by the sudden attention, I knew that she was feeling honored by the compliment. The color had even begun to return to her cheeks and she was starting to look alive again.

  “And I think most of you know by now that Emory has some unique gifts of her own.” I turned to look at my new friend. “I’ve never met anyone who has abilities like you. Communicating with those who’ve passed . . . do you have any idea how special that is? How special you all are?”

  I surveyed the room and realized I was growing to care about everyone in it—even Fallon, who’d finally appeared in the doorway behind me. They were my friends, my soul mates, my family. But I couldn’t forget that one of them was a traitor, either. One of our own was planning to sell us out. I just hoped he or she wasn’t more powerful than the rest of us together. Once I knew what special abilities each of us had, I’d also know what the potential traitor was capable of. And traitor or not, the coven was tighter than ever.

  “You’re all probably wondering why we were hit so hard at the mall and earlier tonight. How we can possibly win a fight against the Parrishables? What’s so different about us now that will lead us to a victory? Well, the answer is you—you and your individual gifts are what’s gonna keep us all alive. That’s what will make us stronger than them. The natural gifts that run through our veins—passed down through our ancestors—that’s something the Parrishables don’t have. Our individual powers. And that’s how we’re going to get rid of them once and for all.

  “Starting now we’re going to teach each other everything we know. Every spell you’ve ever created, whether you think it’s relevant or not, can help us win the fight against our enemies. And for those of you whose powers can’t be taught, we’re counting on you to hone those skills and use them when the timing’s right. Of course, all of this means more training, but not just in our magic. We need to become proficient in hand-to-hand combat, because we’ve learned the hard way that they’re not limiting the battle to spells.” I looked over at Sascha, who still had yellowing circles of bruises decorating her jaw and cheek.

  “We have to truly learn how to fight, and I’m not going to lie: it’s going to be hard, really hard, and you’re probably going to hate me before this is over. But I don’t care, because this is what’s going to keep us from ending up like our parents. And if you have to yell at me and talk about me behind my back to do it, so be it. I’m not letting you all down again. We will win this thing.”

  They were hanging on my every word, and even without asking, I could feel it in my heart . . . they were ready to do what had to be done.

  “I’m not sure whether we’re being watched or followed, but I think we need to assume that the Parrishables will come looking for us,” I said. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of waiting around for them to find us. They were looking for a war and now they’ve found one.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Apparently, all you need to do in order to light a fire under someone’s butt is land your friends in the hospital. Because once the violence gets real, people tend to come around to doing whatever it t
akes to survive.

  The next day when everyone had woken up by 8 a.m., gotten fed and dressed, and assembled in the living room all ready to go, I knew that what I’d said the night before had really sunk in. It was also proof that all had been forgiven, which made me happier than I could describe.

  But when I strutted into the living room, pulling on the jacket of my magical designer knockoff track suit (bright red, of course), I saw that everyone was already there, waiting for me. Considering how late we’d all been up the night before, I figured I’d be dealing with a bunch of cranky kids, all more interested in going back to sleep than doing work.

  That wasn’t the case, though. I think this was partly because after my big speech the night before, we’d spent another hour ironing out the details of how to prepare for our inevitable battle with the Parrishables. This included a serious powwow about each of our biggest secrets.

  We went around the room as people recalled everything that could possibly give us an advantage over the Parrishables. Besides Emory’s ability to talk to the dead and Sascha’s talent for transferring her power to others in order to help them heal, we were all a little surprised to find out that still more had their own gifts to contribute. For instance, Jasmine was like a human mood ring and could see others’ auras, which would be helpful in foretelling people’s intentions. Fallon was somehow able to pick things up really quickly. Like someone who had a photographic memory, he could try a spell once and would never forget it. Like magic memory or something. Of course, just because he knew how to do the magic didn’t mean he could always execute it correctly. That was all dependent on the strength of the caster and the time they put into working on the spells.

  After going through all this, we began to work out how we could use these things to our advantage. Those who didn’t have special powers contributed in other ways, like by sharing their favorite family spells. It turned out that even the most tight-knit coven kept some things from each other.

  “Whoa, Hadley, cute outfit!” Sascha said as I walked into the room. “You always have such cute clothes! I’m totally jealous.”

  I looked at her choice of sweatpants and a tank top. She saw me taking in her outfit and then made a face. “I didn’t know we’d be training when we went shopping before,” she said, sounding slightly ashamed.

  I looked around the room and saw that she wasn’t alone. No one was quite as fashionable as I was, but then again, that was usually the case no matter the situation. And of course, I’d had a little help.

  I thought it was time for me to give them a little help too.

  “Actually, if you like it so much . . . you can have it,” I said, deciding that I knew which spell I was going to teach the group first.

  For a minute, she looked like she didn’t know whether or not I was kidding. Once she realized I was being serious, her eyes grew wide and she shook her head. “No, I couldn’t take your outfit, Hadley. It looks crazy expensive, and besides, I’m pretty sure we’re not the same size.”

  I gave her a sly smile. This was going to be fun. “I didn’t mean you should actually take mine,” I said, turning to look at everyone else around the room. “Listen up, guys, I’ve got your first lesson of the day right here.”

  I proceeded to teach everyone my glamour spell. I had no idea how this was going to help us win the war against the Parrishables, but who was to say we wouldn’t need it for something? At the very least, we’d all look good in the heat of battle. After all, outfits really did make a difference. Why do you think sports teams wear uniforms? Fashion is something that unifies people.

  Plus there’s just no excuse for a bad outfit. If I was going out, I was doing it in style.

  “That is the coolest spell ever!” Sascha exclaimed when she finally managed to replicate the dress that Taylor Swift had worn to her last awards show.

  “Not bad, Had. I just figured you stole all your clothes,” Jasmine said. She may have been playing it cool, but I’d already seen her switch from one black getup to another, trying hard not to smile the whole time.

  “Okay, who’s next? I know you’ve all got something up your sleeves that you didn’t show us last night, so step up and share it now,” I said. “Even if you think it’s insignificant or that we can’t possibly use it against the Parrishables, we want to hear it. Because the truth is, you never know what will come in handy, and the more prepared we are the better.”

  A few seconds passed before anyone said anything. Finally, Jasmine rolled her eyes and joined me at the front of the room.

  “Fine. I guess there’s one spell I can teach you all. It’s not a big deal or anything, just something I’ve done on occasion. You know, when I’m hanging out by myself and I’m bored,” Jasmine said. She walked over to the couch and picked up a cushion. Then she threw it straight at Peter. He caught it just before it hit him in the face. “Do me a favor, kid, and hold the pillow.”

  “Why, what are you going to—”

  He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Jasmine yelled, “Exbiliby totalitum!” and pointed in Peter’s direction. There was a loud pop and then it was as if it were snowing indoors. I reached out my hand to try to catch some of the white stuff. It was soft and cushy. Then I noticed the gaping hole that was now in the pillow Peter was holding in his trembling hands.

  “Seriously?” I asked incredulously.

  “Oh. Sorry about your pillow,” she answered nonchalantly as a big puff of stuffing landed on her shoulder.

  “Forget the pillow—how could you think that wasn’t a big deal?”

  She made a face. “I don’t know. I did it a few times as a kid and then my parents forbade me to do it anymore. So after that I could only do it when I was sure they wouldn’t find out about it. Besides, when is blowing stuff up ever considered a good thing? I mean, that’s why kids go to juvie.”

  Jasmine showed us how to do her spell and we spent an hour or so practicing it. Not on any more of my mom’s pillows, mind you. I felt it was important to have some fun with our training this time, so we took a stash of balloons that I found in an old dresser drawer of mine and filled them up with water. Placing them on various spots around the property, we made a game out of watching them explode into showers of glistening droplets. A few of us got so good at it that we even took turns holding the targets in the air and being soaked while standing beneath them. It was like our own version of a dunking booth.

  After that we made it a point to turn every lesson into a game of some sort. And as the days went on, the others became more vocal about the spells they’d discovered on their own. It had been naive of me to think I was the only one who’d expanded upon our mandatory lessons with Jackson.

  And the creativity in our group! June showed us how she’d discovered the right words to extend her time in the air when she jumped; it wasn’t quite flying, but she did defy gravity a bit. A guy named Brick, one of Fallon’s buddies, taught us how to conjure up a hologram. Of course, he’d only ever used it to scare his younger female neighbors, but I could see how this particular spell could come in handy. We learned how to write words in the sky (Peter), how to make it snow in small amounts—like a personal snowstorm—(Josephine), make a person literally tongue-tied (Emory), and give someone a nosebleed that wouldn’t stop (Fallon).

  By the end of each day, we were all exhausted but happy with our accomplishments. We never would’ve had the chance to do spells this potentially dangerous had it been up to Jackson and the other adults. They would’ve argued that we were too young to take on that kind of responsibility. Well, seeing as we didn’t exactly have a choice about it now, I figured the more we knew, the better.

  “Great job today, everyone. Really good!” I said.

  The sun was going down in the distance and the sky was giving way to brighter shades of blue, pink, and orange. Temperatures were higher than usual and I’d been forced to shed my jacket early on. I think I’d even managed to get a tan while we were outside. But now with the sun dissolving and t
he breeze kicking up, my bare arms began to grow chilly. I snatched my jacket from its spot on the porch and tugged it over my body, covering the rising goose bumps.

  I was about to head inside to get something to eat when I heard someone clear her throat behind me.

  “Um, Hadley?”

  I turned around to see Emory standing with her arms behind her back, looking a bit flushed. She’d been with the rest of us for the beginning of the day, learning all the same spells we had, but then those with special skills were given some time to work on their own. While this was going on, I sent the others to start working on the physical side of combat. This was one of the only things Asher could get involved in, since it didn’t require magic. Just stamina and strength.

  Because of the way we were breaking up our training format, I hadn’t seen Emory in a few hours by this point and was interested in hearing how things had gone.

  “Hey, Emory. What’s up?” I asked, walking back over to her. “How was your private session?”

  “It was good. Really good, actually. At first I was kind of nervous about giving all the spirits access to me, but after I started to let go, things became clearer, if that makes any sense,” she said. Emory began to play with the bracelet around her wrist. This one was a chain of real violets. “Hadley, when I was channeling, your mom came through again. There was some stuff she wanted me to tell you.”

  I raised an eyebrow, my heartbeat quickening at the thought of communicating with my mom again. But I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react to the news that she was trying to reach me from beyond the grave. As amazing as it was to talk to her, it was also a reminder of what had happened. That I couldn’t see her or talk to her anytime I wanted. In that respect, it was almost more difficult than not having her around at all.

  “My mom never was one to hold back from telling me what to do,” I said, laughing nervously. “What did she have to say?”

  Emory looked around as the rest of the coven made their way either inside or to relax in the setting sun. She lowered her voice. “She’s actually here right now. Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more . . . private?”