by K. G. McAbee
Evie giggled as she flipped on the lights and shut the door behind her. Inside was a perfect little living space that was too small to be considered an apartment, but it had all the essentials. A queen size bed sat against the back wall, flanked by a single armoire and a small table. The kitchen had a sink and stove. The living room was furnished with a small couch and fireplace.
"What in the world is this place?"
I walked around, touching things in wonderment, and I couldn't help but notice that it looked like a page from a 1952 issue of Better Homes and Gardens.
"Does all this stuff still work?"
It looked like it did. The whole place looked spotless. But what would I know? I hadn't known this place existed until now.
"Of course it works. Your grandparents built it during the bomb shelter craze of the 1950s."
Well, that explained the neon bright interior.
She plopped down on the couch and patted the vinyl cushion next to her.
I sat on the edge until I realized it wouldn't fall in on me. Then I relaxed as she started to speak.
"Annie, there are some things Ivy and I have been keeping from you."
I'll say. Trying to be good, I just studied the stones that made up the walls around us as she spoke. There was a pattern there; I just couldn't find it.
"One of those things is the fact we have enemies." She held up a rough palm to stop me as my mouth opened. "No, let me finish."
"Okay." I nodded.
"That's the reason why this place was built and kept up. It's here in case we need to hide out for a few weeks until we can escape Manning."
"Escape Manning? Who would we be running from, Aunt Evie? The townspeople with pitchforks and torches?"
"This is serious, Anya."
She had no idea how serious I was.
"Not the folk of Manning, no. We have other enemies; all our people fear them. They are very dangerous, child. A group called the Witchfinder Generals was created in the seventeenth century to find, capture and destroy witches. Their first victims were nothing more than spinsters and widows; women who couldn't defend themselves. But they got lucky; they found a Chosen One. A true witch."
Her fingers trembled as she untied the leather band she had worn around her wrist for as long as I could remember. The only time she removed it was during the rituals, but then her arms had been hidden by the sleeves of her robes. Evie held the slender wrist out to me.
I looked at her in puzzlement before taking hold of it. The skin on the back looked intact. Nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't until I turned it over that I gasped.
The soft flesh was marked with a symbol I recognized instantly. I'd seen it on the cover of the books Ivy had me study. Indented in the pale skin, a small circle flanked by two half moons shown in the light, pale and worn, like a scar that had been there for a long while. My fingers traced it before I found the courage to meet her eyes. They were patient, even amused by my amazement.
"What is this, Aunt Evie?" My words came out in a whisper, though no ears could have heard us here underground.
"The mark of the Chosen, Annie. You will receive yours in time. It is to separate us from the others so we will know our true brothers and sisters in magic."
"Did it hurt?"
It looked like it would have hurt. Hurt a lot. I released her wrist and stared at her.
She sighed. "Annie, it will come to you on its own. There is no telling how this will form on you. I fell on a glass statue my mother had put out in the garden. Ivy cut hers on the rocks at the edge of the pond. It will come to you as it wills, not as you chose. There is no rhyme or reason to it. Now may I continue?"
I nodded and leaned forward once more.
"The Witchfinders discovered the mark, but in their quest for power and riches, they began to gather up innocents along with the witches. Everyone was burned. Or tortured. It didn't matter which; both ways meant a certain death as long as they got what they wanted. It's our energies, Annie; that's what they're after. If they ever get their hands on you, promise me you will do all you can to escape. Even if it means your death. Because if they drain you, and they will, you'll lose so much more than your powers. You'll lose your ability to remember things. Your hold on your sanity. And when the energy is all gone, and there is no more use for you, they will...let you die."
She tied the band back around the scar and grasped my hands.
"Our deaths have granted them unlimited wealth and power. But now the Witchfinders are much pickier about who they target. Larger covens break up for fear of being discovered. Smaller ones shun the most powerful of us for fear the energies will bring attention to them. This is where you come in, child."
"But, Evie, that's just it! I don't have any powers! I don't have anything other than what you and Ma have forced down my throat for the past seventeen years. So if they ever do capture me, the Witchfinders are going to be sorely disappointed."
My aunt shook her head, her grip tightening on my fingers. "No, you do, child. You do. Annie, you are just so stubborn. So persistent when you get an idea stuck in your head. You won't let it go. Even if you don't understand the consequences of it."
The breath I was holding escaped in a groan.
"So they are after us now? Why?"
Evie nodded. "They are. I saw them in the stars last week; your mother, in the cards. She didn't want to tell you for fear you would turn away from your nature, Anya. You are a very powerful girl. When you are in the circle, our success rate skyrockets. It's as if our presence doesn't even matter. The Great Mother listens to you. Grants you what we are seeking. We are there to help of course, but if we were not, your power would remain the same. You overshadow us, child, and we know this. That's why your mother wants you in the coven so badly. So you can help us succeed when so often we've failed. Yet, having you there is dangerous. I knew this, but I didn't realize how much so until you told me you had seen the Goddess last night. That vision, that contact, explains why you are so important. To Her, you are so much more than just another follower. She must see you as a daughter. A direct link for Her here on Earth. Though I can't for the life of me understand why."
Saw her? I talked to her. Hugged her. But we hadn't gotten that far in my story yet.
"We weren't surprised at how strong you are, though. Your father was as strong as you are now in his prime. Annie, your power will surpass his with time. Especially now that we must consider your connection with the Great Mother."
First, I learn of a secret hideout behind my house. Next, I learn we are being hunted by a crazy group of psycho witch-hunters. And I am considered special to our deity. Now, she mentions my father. They never talked about him; he had left us before I was born. Hadn't he? Or was that something else?
"Wait a minute, Aunt Evie." I pulled my hands free and stood. "My father? I thought he had deserted us. Fear of commitment and all that. What are you telling me?"
Suddenly, Evie appeared old to me. Fragile as I towered over her. I was too angry to care as I turned my back on her.
"He did leave, Annie. But not by choice. Sandor and your mother...they were two halves of a whole. The night he was taken, he was traveling up north to find a skilled mid-wife to help with your birth. If a doctor saw your mother's scar, he could have turned us in to the Witchfinders, and you never would have been."
"So that's it? He was grabbed by these Witchfinders?"
"We believe so. His energies were of fire just as yours are. The gypsy tribe he was going to meet up with never saw him. And we searched desperately for him. Your mother refused to give up hope he was still out there. Alive. But Ivy was distraught, darkened by the tragedy that was unfolding when you were born. It's still too painful for her to discuss it. I'm sure he died years ago at their hands. I hope he did, anyway. He named you, you know. Your mother was going to have you named "Josephine" after her favorite French empress, and Sandor tried his best to convince her otherwise. When he disappeared, you became Ivy's final tribute to him. Y
our name was a constant reminder for her of the happy times they spent with one another."
No, I didn't know. I hadn't known any of this and now, I didn't want to. It was so much easier to just believe the man who should have raised me had abandoned me instead. Abandonment was easy to explain. Easy to justify since Ivy had been so young when she became a mother. No, it was much too painful to realize the father I had believed didn't care anything about us did care. Cared enough to risk his life for ours. And lost it.
My sudden anger surprised me. Sure, I'd been angry before when Evie dropped this latest bombshell. Yet, my anger was focused not on her, but towards the company that had stolen the childhood I should have had. Stolen the man who should have loved me, guided me. Locked him up and took his powers.
Unless he did the unthinkable before they could. Unless he took his own life to save himself from the torment Evie described.
But a part of me, the one I could only attribute to him, was sure he would never have done such a thing. He would have spent his days in captivity, trying to figure out how to get back to the ones he loved. I knew this as sure as I was breathing because, if I had been in his place, I would have done the same.
Evie walked toward the bed and moved a picture off the wall. Behind it was a small safe. She punched in the code before opening it and taking something I couldn't see out. Then she returned to me.
"Lift your hair, child."
I was too stunned, too hurt to protest. I lifted my ragtag ponytail and felt the weight of something press against my collarbone. She tied a knot at the back of my neck as I reached up to examine the present.
It wasn't a necklace. Not exactly. The leather strap held a pale blue oval stone that chilled me as it grazed my skin. I pulled it up and studied the fine lines etched into stone, following them until I realized they created a faint version of the symbol forever scarred on Evie's wrist. The stone's heart was a clear shade of white with blues and greens running through it like the veins in my arms.
"Moonstone?" I asked as Evie came around in front of me.
She nodded. "Moonstone. It is the stone of pleasant dreams, and lovers. The wearers of moonstone will always be reminded their love is real each time they gaze upon the stone. As long as it is in their possession, no night terrors will come to them."
Her hands were cold as they wrapped around mine and the stone I held.
"This was the last thing your father gave to Ivy before he left us. I think that, somehow, he knew he wouldn't be coming back to her. So he wanted her to be protected; as I am sure he would want you protected now. Sandor could divine by fire, you know? See things in the flames not even we could see in the timeless practices of stargazing or the tarot."
For nearly eighteen years, I had worked hard not to think about my father, even about having one, since he had never been around to begin with. Of course I asked about him as a child. Who wouldn't? But it caused Ivy too much pain. The mere question of 'who' was enough to send her into hysterics complete with tears and screams. I learned quickly to lock away any curiosity I had about him. Now, as the pieces fell together, I found I was afraid to know what picture they would hold.
If he had been taken because of his power, then I could be next. But my powers had only just begun to surface. It could be years before they exposed their true potential.
Couldn't it?
Divination by fire. His gift was fire. The one he passed down to me. My father drew his strength from it. His knowledge. And I am following in his footsteps, almost as if I am reading a script he had already written. Acting out his life through the reflection of my own. Which means I could be taken away from here. From Manning. Tortured. My powers stolen until I die.
I looked up at my aunt with a fear I saw reflected in her face. I knew she had to be thinking the same things racing through my own mind. When Evie nodded, I knew she understood.
"That is why I showed you this place, Annie. If anything...anything at all ever happens, I want you to run here as fast as you can. Forget about me. Forget about your mother. There's plenty of money in the safe to get you out of Manning. From there, do everything you can to avoid magic until things have quieted down and you're safe. Even talking with the Great Mother. She will understand your silence. She will protect you when all else fails. Promise me this."
I wrapped my arms around her then, the moonstone hanging at my neck burning my skin as I hugged the fragile creature who had taken such pains to warn me of the future.
"I promise, Aunt Evie. Thank you."
I bit my bottom lip as I made the promise I knew there was no way I could keep. If they were ever in danger, I would do all I could to save them.
Even at the expense of losing myself.
I asked a simple, single question as I held her.
"When?"
She pulled back from my embrace and sighed before sitting back down on the sofa. "We don't know for certain. The stars have been shaded to me as far as when they will strike. But it will be soon. Sooner than any of us can expect. Annie, I want you to bring some of your things down here. Clothes. Books. You may be hidden from the world for a while and you must be able to survive it."
"I won't hide forever, Evie. I...." I curled up on the other side of the couch. The flush in my face must have told her what I was thinking, and she frowned.
"If this is about some boy, Anya, you can't be serious. We're not talking about you skipping school. This is your life! One you can lose quite easily!"
"You don't understand, Evie." The tone I used was cold, devoid of any emotion except for anger. How could she understand? As far as I knew, she had never loved anyone other than my mother. Evie wouldn't know what it was like to have your heart shattered at the thought of losing the one you wanted. I leaned forward as I tried to explain.
"That's what I've been trying to tell you since this morning. The reason I fell asleep on the altar. I...I met a boy at school. The night of the ritual, I did a binding spell to make him mine." Her eyebrow rose at that, but she kept silent as I continued. "I didn't see him for days afterward. His father died. Then he came here yesterday, visited with me. But it was so much more than that, Evie. Tommy...he cares for me. And I care for him too. Enough to release the binding. I can't stand the thought of him leaving me, but I won't influence his life that way. I won't take away his ability to choose whether to love me or not."
"What happened?"
A simple question I should have had the answers for. I took a moment to breathe before I answered. "It didn't work. The Great Mother told me She couldn't grant my request. That our destinies were intertwined long before any of this happened."
Evie was examining my face and I saw her skepticism, almost as if the story I told her was one that had come from a very good imagination. It wasn't the reaction I had expected from her. If anything, I would have expected this disbelief from Ivy before I could ever imagine it coming from my beloved aunt.
Her skepticism was replaced with a look of suspicion. "You said his father died a few days ago. What's his last name?"
"Hopkins. Why?"
She hissed between clinched teeth before scrambling up to her feet. When she pulled me up with her, I was sure she was going to strike out at me. Instead, Evie wrapped her hands around my arms and shook me.
"No! No. You stay away from him, Annie! They...he...no!"
I jerked away. I was still enough of a teenager to feel the rebellion building up.
"I knew you couldn't understand! I won't do it, Evie. I can't do it! The Gods know, I tried. How can you be acting this way? You don't even know him! He's a good person. Kind. If it hadn't been for him, then..."
My aunt snorted, crossing her arms over her chest while she glared at me.
"The Hopkins aren't 'good', Annie. They aren't 'kind' to people like us. Does he know? Have you told him you are Chosen?"
"No! Why would I? Do you think I want him running away from me as fast as the other people in this town do?"
I could feel my anger a
pproaching its boiling point, strong enough to bring tears to my eyes. I blinked them back before Evie could see them. She walked to the door and opened it, turning to face me before she stepped outside.
"Anya, if you don't stop this, then you are bringing death to our door and you will only have yourself to blame for it. If you don't let him go, right here and now, then we will send you away. We still have friends up North. Your father's family. Perhaps that's where we should have sent you in the first place."
She left me with those final words resounding in my head as my confusion began to mix in with the anger. What was the big deal? What was so dangerous about Tommy's last name? Why couldn't she understand how important he was?
Why did she want to take him away from me?
I slammed the door to the hideout as I left it, racing down to the edge of the pond where Tommy and I had spent a single afternoon together. Here I could find the peace I was desperately seeking. Here I could believe nothing was different, nothing had changed.
But it had changed. Everything. And I had failed.
I couldn't release Tommy. He was now fated to love me whether he wanted to or not.
The Witchfinders were after us because of me. Because of some stupid power I had and couldn't use. And Evie was right. It would all be my fault if they got hurt.
Now, with her final words, it seemed I would lose my home too. My family. The only place I had ever known. I sighed as I headed back to the house.
And it was all because of a spell.
Chapter Twelve
Tommy
"Try that on," Clay said. He was leaning against a big black Hummer in our garage.
Kinsey held out a black vest.
"That's not exactly my kinda thing," I said, but not too loud. I was still a little worried about my relatives' mental state. "I guess I'm more of a jeans and tee kind of guy."
Kinsey didn't say anything, just held out the vest like he was settled in for the duration. So I took it.