by Lara Chapman
“Are spells hard to learn?” Lady Rose says. “Well, I’ll tell you this much. Casting a spell correctly requires a great deal of focus. Your mind must be like a laser, narrowing in on the smallest details of the spell. You also have to learn the elements that go with spells, so that takes some practice. And you have to remember that you won’t always get it right the first time.”
Lady Rose looks at Kendall and Zena again. Her face is somber, but the effect is totally lost on those two girls. “If you attempt to cast a spell before you’re ready,” she says, “it can have disastrous results.”
When she looks at me and gives me the tiniest little grin, I know she’s talking about the spell they put on me last year. Lady Rose is one of the only teachers who isn’t afraid of the headmistress. Most of our teachers let Zena do what she wants, and since Kendall is her best friend, that extends to her as well.
“Before we can get started on spells, we have to be fully in tune with our minds.”
This time last year, that would have sounded like a bunch of nonsense, but now it sounds logical. I know what she means. Witchcraft is entirely in the head. I’ve found that most things are.
“We’ll start by mastering dream recall,” she says, and a new slide clicks on. A photo of stars and mist and a full moon fills the screen. “Dream recall is exactly what it sounds like. It’s training your brain to remember your dreams. Can anyone guess why we’d want to know what we dream about?”
Dru raises her hand, and Lady Rose nods in her direction.
“My mother always says that dreams are important because they reflect deep thoughts you ignore when you’re awake,” Dru says.
“She’s right,” Lady Rose says. “Dreams always have meaning. Believe it or not, you can learn to recall almost all your dreams. I’ll teach you some simple techniques to help you start remembering dreams within the first or second night of practice. It’s sort of like self-hypnosis in a way. You are simply making suggestions to your mind before you are completely asleep. This state of mind is called the borderline sleep level. It is when your brain is most likely to absorb the suggestions.”
Lady Rose claps her hands, and just enough lights come on for us to see. “Girls, get your notebooks out. You need to take some notes.”
The room rustles with activity. Even Zena and Kendall grab their notebooks, and I think it may be the first time I’ve seen them actually take notes.
“Starting tonight I want you to follow these steps. They sound so simple. Too simple, really. But it works, girls. I promise. I do this every night.”
She writes on the board: 1) Preparing your mind for rest.
“When you are preparing for bed, it’s important to get your body as relaxed as you can. You can meditate to clear your mind, so that you are ready for the next step. Make sure you have a notepad and pen beside your bed.”
She gives us time to write, then continues. She returns to the board and writes: 2) Programming.
“This is the most important part. When you get to that borderline sleep level, which is right before you are completely asleep, you must tell yourself over and over again that you will remember all your dreams and you will wake up after each dream and write it down. You can also ask to dream about something important. If you’re struggling with an important decision, ask for Saffra’s help while you sleep.”
Ivy looks at me like, This sounds crazy, and I agree with her. But it still sounds pretty cool.
“Next,” she says, writing on the board again, “is a critical part of the process.”
3) Taking Notes.
“If you successfully wake up after each dream, then you must write down everything you can remember in detail. Write down whether the dream was in color or black and white. This is why you need to keep a pen and pad next to the bed. Make sure not to put them in the bed with you. You don’t want to end up stabbing yourself with the pen in your sleep.” Everyone giggles. “Then you must try to go right back to sleep.”
It’s kind of creepy, but I can’t wait to try this, to see if it really works.
She writes one last note on the board. 4) Reviewing the Night.
“You’ll be amazed how many dreams you actually have each night. I usually find that I have ten to fifteen dreams a night; sometimes more.”
Someone behind me says, “There are some nights when I don’t have any dreams. What do I do on those nights?”
“Everyone dreams several times a night. They just don’t know they do until they try something like this. Make special note of dreams in full-blown color. You’ll want to reference them once we are further along in the process.”
The bell rings, and everyone throws their notebooks and pens into their bags as Lady Rose reminds us to bring our dream journals to class tomorrow.
Just as I’m leaving the room, someone pulls at my sleeve. I turn to see Lady Rose, whose face is smiling, but it’s not a real smile and fails to reach her eyes.
She looks at Ivy waiting for me at the door. “Ivy, I need Hallie for just a second.”
Ivy nods, leaving me behind for the second day in a row.
“Is something wrong, Lady Rose?” I ask once the class is cleared.
She shakes her head, but her eyes are sad. Worried. “How is this year shaping up so far?”
“Good,” I tell her. “Really good, actually.”
“I know you had problems with Kendall last year. Is that any better?”
I shake my head. “Things with Kendall will never be easy. But at least we aren’t roommates.”
I’m about to point out my new blue eyes. But she looks distracted, so I don’t say anything.
“I’m sure,” Lady Rose says, her face unchanged. “I just . . .”
I don’t fill the silence, and let her finish her thought.
“You know this year will be different.”
I nod at her. “It already is.”
Lady Rose closes her eyes.
“What are you trying to say, Lady Rose?”
“I’m probably just being overprotective. I’ve never had a student with your gift. You are a very talented and unique young witch. There are powerful people at Dowling who might . . .”
Before she finishes her thought, girls begin entering her room for the next class.
Lady Rose puts her hand on my arm. “Come see me if you need anything.”
I look at her, wishing I could ask her questions. I have so many. But the room is crowding fast, and I have to get to my next class.
I smile, an empty, halfhearted smile. “Yes, ma’am. See you tomorrow.”
I leave the room, but the chill of her words stays with me for hours.
Nine
Seven thirty. Two hours till lights out.
I have genealogy research that needs my attention, but I’m temporarily trapped in my room. Jo and Dru said they had some juicy news to share, so of course they came over right after dinner.
I’m at my desk, checking e-mail while they giggle and gossip behind me. Most of my e-mail is junk. But one sender catches my attention. Cody.
I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone is looking, but they’re too busy talking about the upcoming celebration to notice. The cursor hovers over his name, but I don’t click on it. Not yet. I minimize my screen, turn around in my chair and straddle it backward.
I jump into the conversation when there’s a break. “So, what’s the gossip we just had to hear tonight?”
Jo and Dru share a look.
“Tell us!” Ivy says.
Dru giggles. “Okay. So, we were in the library today, working on research. There were a lot of people in there. I’ve never seen the library so crowded. Have either one of you started your research?”
“Focus, Dru,” I say. “Gossip first. School second.”
Wait. Did those words come out of my mouth? I’ve always s
aid school trumps everything. Even gossip. And especially boys.
“Right,” she says, giving Jo another look. My nerves prickle. This must be really good.
“We’re working, and I started hearing someone’s conversation,” Jo says. How Jo can hear some conversations but tune out others is a mystery to me.
“You’re so lucky,” Ivy says. She’s exasperated that her gift isn’t stealthier.
Jo shakes her head. “Hardly.”
“Anyway . . . ,” I say.
“Anyway,” Jo continues. “I realize it’s Kendall and Zena.”
My stomach clenches. Nothing good comes from those two.
“What were they talking about?” Ivy asks. “Their next plan to take over the world?”
Dru is too antsy to let Jo finish. “It was about Cody.”
Everyone in the room freezes.
“What about him?” I ask in my best why-should-I-care voice.
“It turns out your boyfriend—” Dru says.
“He is not my boyfriend.” I’m so emphatic, spit shoots from my lips.
“Relax, Hallie,” Ivy says.
Jo finishes telling us about the conversation she overheard. “Zena said Cody is in line to be the next High Priest of Riley.”
Stunned silence.
Until finally Ivy says, “Oh. My. Gosh.”
“Did they say anything else?” I ask, my voice strained. Why did I have to get involved with this guy? Of course he’s going to be the next High Priest. I finally let myself like someone, and he’s untouchable. He’ll have his pick of any girl.
“Just that he’d take over when he turns twenty-one. I couldn’t hear the whole thing. There were too many people in there, and I had trouble picking out their voices after a while.”
“Hallie, do you know what this means?” Ivy asks.
“It means nothing,” I say. I’m dying to read Cody’s e-mail now. “It’s just gossip. I don’t even know what a High Priest does. Or a High Priestess for that matter. If Zena said it, I refuse to believe it.”
They look at me like I’m crazy. And I probably am. But I don’t want to consider things like Cody being a High Priest and what that means for me.
I cross my arms in defense. “Really. Since when do we trust a single word that comes out of Zena Fallon’s mouth?”
No one has a decent comeback. “Exactly,” I say. “Since never. It’s just Zena trying to make herself look important. Zena cares about one thing. One person. And absolutely nothing else. Not even Kendall.”
“I don’t know,” Jo says. “I mean, what if she’s right?”
“What if she is?” I ask. “It changes nothing. Not for the four of us and not for me and Cody.”
“Don’t you want to know if the guy you’re crushing on is Riley royalty?”
“Royalty? Let’s save the melodrama for Kendall and Zena.”
What would Kendall and Co. say if they knew I talked to Cody all summer? And not just once or twice but every day? Then they’d really be excited about this gossip.
There’s a tap at the door before Miss A walks in. “Howdy-ho! How are my favorite girls doing?”
My anxiety weakens just by having her here. It’s like she knows I need her.
Then I look at her and she winks. Of course she knows. She practically lives in my head.
“I decided to have an impromptu meeting to discuss our contribution to the Third Harvest celebration. Let’s meet in the Crafter Chamber. End of the hall. Last door on the right. Be there in fifteen minutes.”
In a snap she has bustled out of our room and headed to the next.
“Wonder what kind of booth we’re going to have,” Ivy says. “I hope it isn’t something lame like a dunking booth.”
“Maybe we could have a kissing booth,” Dru says with a wink. “Put Hallie in that baby and Cody will never leave.”
“And Dowling would get rich!” Jo is the last to join in, and when she does, we all laugh. But my heart isn’t totally in it. I need to read Cody’s e-mail, but I can’t with my friends sitting right here. And I definitely don’t want them to know about it.
I take one last look at my laptop before leaving the room.
The Crafter Chamber is nicer than the Seeker Sanctum. It has plush seats and sofas instead of folding chairs, and the room is lit by candles hanging from the ceiling. It’s the perfect temperature. Perfect everything. Instead of being in rows, the chairs and sofas are arranged in a circle.
“Very cool,” Ivy says.
“And I’m very glad we got here first,” I add.
Seating is first-come, first-serve, and where you sit in the first meeting is where you wind up sitting all year. It’s not a rule; it’s just the way it is.
“Where do we want to sit?” Dru asks.
We look around the room, and all our eyes settle on the same little nook close to the left of Miss A’s podium. Two chairs and a love seat. It even has a table in the center.
“That’s where,” I say. We make quick work of picking out our places—Jo and Dru on the love seat, Ivy and me in chairs.
As girls arrive, they move furniture around to fit their groups, and everyone seems excited about the new room.
Miss A rings the chimes sitting on her podium. The room is silent almost instantly. Miss A may not be as harsh and refined as the other dorm moms, but she is every bit as strict.
“Advancing at Dowling has its perks, does it not?” she asks.
Excited voices and a few claps answer.
“It’s time to begin. Crafters, prepare your minds.”
As we close our eyes in anticipation of Miss A’s blessing, the door opens and hits the wall with a loud thud.
Everyone’s head shoots up to see Kendall and Zena entering. According to the clock over the door, they’re exactly four minutes late.
Miss A snaps her fingers at them. “Sit right here. In front of me,” she orders.
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing, as do most of the other girls in the room.
Zena doesn’t move, challenging Miss A. “Crafters get to choose where they sit.”
Her know-it-all voice makes me angry. I can hardly stand to hear it.
Miss A snaps her fingers again, willing the girls forward. “You lost that right when you chose to be late. Now sit down. We don’t have time to waste.”
Ten
Samhain is going to be a stellar event, girls. We are so fortunate to host it. Our contribution has to be wicked good.” Miss A laughs at her clever wording. “We have a few choices that we need to discuss, then vote on. The celebration is on Halloween, of course, as all Third Harvest celebrations are.”
“What kind of things can we do?” A girl in the back of the room named Missy asks the question. We have all the same classes but don’t really know each other. Miss A claps her hands in front of her chest. “Well, it’s been a while since we’ve had one of these. I was just a teenager at the last celebration Dowling hosted. It was a joint party celebrating the Third Harvest and the ‘retirement’ of a former headmistress, Janice Seaver. She was the headmistress before Fallon and McCarty. Each headmistress brings their own . . . style.”
I can hardly imagine Dowling without Headmistress Fallon at the helm. I wonder if things were a lot different without her around.
“Things were different back then,” Miss A says, with a wink to me. “Not better or worse, just . . . different.” A look of sadness crosses her face, and then—poof—it’s gone.
She launches into a frenzied list of all the ideas she’s come up with.
Kissing booth (cheek only, of course). Lame.
Face painting. Um, no. We aren’t six.
“What can we do that guys will like too?” Ivy asks in our circle.
“What about tattoos?” I ask loudly enough for the other girls to hear. “W
e’d use washable paint.”
The room goes silent. Then a low hum begins to fill the air.
Miss A watches the excitement grow, ignoring Zena and Kendall, who are sitting with their arms crossed in defiance. Even if they love the idea, they’ll never admit it.
Missy, from the back of the room, speaks up again. “We could come up with symbols for each gift, and that could be the tattoo you receive.”
Jo jumps to her feet. “I can do that! I love to draw.”
Miss A holds up her hands. “All right, girls. Sounds like we have a solid idea. Let’s take a vote.”
She waits for the room to quiet, which takes a few minutes. My tattoo idea makes everyone forget how tired they are, how much homework remains undone, how homesick they are.
“There are candles on the tables around you. Please take one.”
I look at the table, and sure enough, there are four candles. Were these candles here earlier? I’m almost positive they weren’t. But it’s Dowling. Anything can happen here.
We each grab an unlit candle.
“If you would like to vote that we offer a tattoo booth, please light your candle.”
I look at my friends for a clue about how to do that without matches or a lighter, but they’re as confused as I am.
“My bad,” Miss A says, giggling. She always tries to talk like the cool kids, as she says, but it always sounds silly. Why doesn’t it sound that ridiculous when we say it?
“I forgot you don’t know how to vote at Dowling. Feels like you girls have been here forever.” She takes an unlit candle to the front of the room and holds it in front of her. “Hold your candle as I am. Then place your fingers on the wick and pull up quickly.”
We follow her directions, and every candle in the room lights.
Dru gasps. “That’s so cool.”
Miss A watches us with the pride of a parent. “Very good. Now blow them out.”
Again we do as she says, and the room falls dim.