By Moon

by T Thorn Coyle

  7

  Selene

  Brenda had tried to convince Selene to go home, but if Selene went home, they’d go to bed, and they had work to do. No work, no money. No money, no rent for the attic aerie they called home.

  So Selene took their tablet to work on designs in Raquel’s café. Coven members owning businesses that Selene wanted to patronize was very convenient. Maybe someday they’d make enough money to need Alejandro’s IT services or have a home that required Lucy’s painting expertise.

  For now though, the Inner Eye and Raquel’s café did just fine to round out Selene’s life. Now that they’d graduated, Selene knew the coven—her friend Cassiel especially—worried that Selene would become a hermit. According to the coven, going to Goth clubs and coven meetings didn’t constitute a well-rounded social life.

  What did they know? Besides, the Inner Eye and Raquel’s were both well warded and protected, which for an empath was a boon. Both places felt like magic. Like welcome. Like home.

  Cassiel was working, red curly hair in a towering mess on top of her head, one of Raquel’s red aprons on over her jeans. Raquel was on site, also clad in jeans and a T-shirt with “Raquel’s Café” curved around a coffee cup with a heart in the center. The shirt was black and the text and cup were red, just like the actual coffee mug Selene was nursing right now.

  They should have been drinking more mint tea, but screw it, their stomach felt okay, and they hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Who could, after all of that?

  Selene looked at the design they were in the middle of. It was actually a new ad for Lucy’s company, Paint it Bright Co. The name was a spell, of course, designed to reflect what Lucy was putting out into the world, and to draw customers into her vision. Lucy wanted a more beautiful world, she said, and everything about her company needed to reflect that.

  It was Selene’s job to weave that spell into the ad that was going into the local weekly newspapers and had to do double duty on Facebook and the like. Selene was going to have to convince Lucy to do two ads. There was no way to convey the magic of it all in colored pixels and have it translate into black-and-gray newsprint.

  The longer Selene worked with clients, the more they figured out that design wasn’t always the most important part of the job. They had to also teach their clients a smattering of design theory so they could be convinced that Selene wasn’t just trying to get more money out of them, but that there were solid reasons for the design choices Selene suggested.

  Selene had grown more confident in navigating client interactions just in the past six months. So maybe Raquel and Brenda were right, and there was hope that their romantic nervousness would calm down, too.

  At any rate, Lucy had told Selene in no uncertain terms that she trusted them and wanted feedback, so hopefully convincing her to spend money on two separate designs wasn’t going to be too hard.

  Cassiel plopped down on the booth bench opposite Selene, red mug filled with latte in her pale hand.

  “Take a break with me,” their friend said. “You’re frowning at your tablet.”

  “Not surprised. I barely slept and then threw up this morning.”

  “I know. Brenda called Raquel, worried about you.”

  Selene tapped their electronic pencil on the tabletop. “Just great. The coven den mothers are going to give me shit for days.”

  Cassiel leaned across the booth.

  “C’mon, Selene. It sounds like they’re right to be worried. What the hell is going on?”

  They looked at their friend’s green eyes and gorgeous face, wondering how to explain.

  “That’s the problem. I’m not sure. Last night in the studio, I felt a goose walk over my grave. You know that feeling?”

  Cassiel nodded.

  “And then at the club afterwards, things just felt off. Wrong. My friend Janice was acting drunk, but Becca said she wasn’t. And then I spilled my martini all over Joshua…”

  Cassie held up a hand.

  “Wait a minute. You were out with Joshua?”

  Selene shook their head, cheeks burning hot. Damn it.

  “No! I just…he just… He was there. With that guy Legis from the OTO. You know him, right? Well…I didn’t see anyone else I knew when I walked in….”

  “So you sat down across from the one guy you’ve ever had the hots for that I know of, and threw a drink at him.”

  Cassiel was winding Selene up, and knew it. Selene knew it, too.

  “You know that’s not how it happened. And besides, why are we talking about Joshua?”

  Cassie’s green eyes sparkled and Selene could tell she was fighting back a grin. “I don’t know. Why are we talking about Joshua? And why did you throw your drink at him?”

  Selene huffed, and shoved their coffee cup away. “I didn’t throw it. I knocked it over like a clumsy doofus. But that’s not what I was trying to tell you.”

  Selene’s phone began an insistent buzzing from their overloaded messenger bag. That was weird. No one ever actually called.

  They fished past the books, laptop, and makeup bag, fingers finally curling around the buzzing phone.

  It was Legis. That was really weird.

  They held up a finger at Cassiel, who sat, calmly sipping her latte.

  “Hey, Legis! What’s up?”

  Ohmygodsohmygodsohmygods.

  Selene felt the blood drain from their face as he talked. The words barely made sense, they just swirled from the tiny speaker and into their ear. Selene’s eyes never left Cassie’s face, so they saw when it changed from amused, to serious, to actively concerned.

  What is it? Cassie mouthed at Selene.

  Selene just shook their head, every fine hair on their arm standing up at attention.

  No you don’t, Selene thought. No puking. They were ready for the weird psychic response now, and slowed their breathing way down. Half listening to Legis, they cast their attention outward, trying to follow whatever the hell it was that kept trying to attach itself, or scan their aura, or whatever it was doing that was making their stomach want to flip.

  Faint. So faint. But definitely there.

  “Hold on a second, Legis. Okay?”

  Selene covered the mic with one hand and leaned across the table. “Cassie, something is tracking me. Can you try to sense what it is and what it’s doing?”

  Cassie leaned back against the high wooden booth back and closed her eyes. To anyone looking, it would seem as if she just needed to rest a minute. Selene felt Cassiel’s energy change, though, and knew she was seeking. Just because Cassie’s specialty was communicating with ghosts, it didn’t mean her psychic skills were useless on the living.

  Phone clamped to their ear, Selene glanced over at the counter. Raquel was staring, on high alert. Selene gave a quick nod. Raquel blew out a sharp breath and turned to the next customer.

  “Legis? I’ve got to go. Thanks so much for calling me. I’ll be in touch once I find out more.”

  Selene thumbed the phone off and watched Cassiel do her work. They closed their own eyes for a moment, but all they could really sense was unease. Dis-ease, actually. Something was actively wrong, as they had suspected, and was working very, very bad magic.

  Damn it. The coven never got a break, did they? With Summer Solstice coming up, you’d think the creepy crawlies would be hiding in their caves, not out sowing mayhem.

  Cassie’s eyes snapped open.

  “There’s something there, for sure, but it’s hard to get a clear signal with everyone’s thoughts and energy signatures bouncing around the café. I think I caught the scent of it, though, so it should be easier to track from a quieter place.”

  Cassie rolled her neck and shoulders, then shook out her hands and picked up her red mug again.

  “You going to tell me what the phone call was about? And you gonna tell the coven what in Goddess’s name is going on?”

  “That was Legis. The woman I was worried about at the club last night…”

  “J
anice.”

  Selene nodded. “She died.”

  “Oh my Goddess! How?”

  “Looks like an overdose. They’re still doing tox screens, trying to figure out what the substance was. Apparently it’s not the usual stuff, so they’re having to test again.”

  Selene’s brown eyes held steady on Cassiel’s. The air between them felt thick with conflicting energies of anger, worry, fear, and whatever magic still clung to Selene’s skin, tainting them.

  Finally, Cassie spoke. “This is really bad, Selene. And screw Summer Solstice. We’re going to have to do something about it. I’ve got to get back to work. Call the coven. Now.”

  Cassie scooted out of the booth and stood, pausing as she picked up her mug. “And Selene?”

  “Yeah?” Selene’s heart was pounding again, panic starting to rise.

  “You don’t have to do this alone. And tell that part of you that’s fighting right now that we’ve got your back.”

  Selene’s throat closed, and they blinked away the sudden moisture that filled their eyes.

  Clearing their throat, they managed a gruff, “Thanks.”

  “I’m sending Raquel over. And some soup. You look like hell, which tells me along with no sleep, you haven’t eaten in the last twenty-four hours.”

  “Thanks, Cassie.”

  Selene put their head in their hands, letting the long, pressed-straight black hair fall like a curtain, temporarily shutting out the world.

  A few seconds of being alone might be all they were going to get right now. Selene supposed it would have to do.

  8

  Joshua

  His living room was lit with every candle he had.

  They flickered and cast shadows everywhere, heating up the room and filling it with the scent of beeswax. Covered in a light film of sweat, he had stripped off his linen shirt and tie, and wore only a white ribbed A-shirt. After his magical working, Joshua planned to go out back and look at the full moon and cool down. Meanwhile, though, he’d better either open a window or turn the AC on.

  Window. He wanted the night air for his magic, not some canned flow of cold. When he lifted the old wooden casement, a slight breeze entered the room, shifting the dark green, floor-length curtains. It brought the scent of jasmine and brugmansia with it. Two of Joshua’s favorite smells.

  Turning toward the coffee table he’d set up as an altar between the long green couch and the damask-covered chairs, Joshua sighed.

  Every single thing in the universe seemed to be telling him to get his magical shit back together. And if he was going to answer that call, tonight was the night. The full moon before Solstice was as good a time as any to get himself back on track.

  He had to face himself or risk…he didn’t even know what. The failure of his business? Something else?

  Facing himself was a risk. But not facing himself was turning out to be worse.

  And now Janice was dead. It felt unbelievable, despite what Legis had said about overdoses being all too common in his line of work. Joshua barely knew Janice, so maybe his impression of her was wrong, but he’d never gotten the sense that she was a user. Never saw her drink more than a glass of wine or two at the clubs.

  Never seen her acting the way she had the night before, either. You never really knew with people. What was going to send them over the edge?

  Speaking of drugs…Brenda said she didn’t know anything about the flying ointment company. She hadn’t gotten a box, though they both suspected that one might be on its way. He’d dropped a jar of the stuff at the Inner Eye before he opened shop for the day. Brenda said she would pass the ointment along to her coven mate Tobias. They hoped that with his herbal expertise, Tobias might be able to tease out some of the ingredients from scent alone. It was a long shot, but right now?

  They couldn’t exactly call the police and say that someone had given them free samples of a product. Joshua could just see how that would go. Eyes rolling, heads shaking, muttered curses about “weirdos and freaks.”

  So yeah. It sounded like Tobias was the current best bet. They needed more information before going to the rest of the Portland magical community. Brenda didn’t want to call on the Wyrd Sisters or the others with half-cocked theories and speculation.

  Wild speculation had been the cause of too many magical battles and witch wars. The Arrow and Crescent witches wanted to avoid that at all costs. Smart.

  Stop delaying.

  Joshua sat down at the altar. His black-handled athamé, a pendulum, and a chalice filled with cool water formed a rough triangle between two pillar candles. In the center of the triangle of tools were the three cards from his reading the day before.

  If he was going to get more information, this was the best way he currently knew how.

  “Back to basics.”

  Joshua straightened his spine, and began the long, slow, breathing practice he’d been taught years before. Back when he first studied magic. Back when it felt like it might save him, and possibly even save the world.

  Inhale. Two. Three. Four.

  Hold. Two. Three. Four.

  Exhale. Two. Three. Four.

  Hold. Two. Three. Four.

  He found himself closing off his throat on each inhalation, tensing up, and adjusted his body to counteract that. Touching the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he allowed his breathing to settle and deepen. When it came time to pause between inhalation and exhalation, he held the breath by engaging his diaphragm, instead of closing off his throat.

  His body recalled the pattern; all it took was this simple reintroduction. He hoped the rest proved this easy.

  Feeling more centered and present, he lightly touched the blade and chalice, invoking a sense of his own will and asking for clarity of heart. That was simple intuition on his part. His current problems stemmed from his heart, and not his mind.

  The chalice seemed like a way through.

  That done, he turned his attention to the cards. The Lovers. The Devil. The Moon.

  “What do you have to teach me? What are you trying to say? Show me…please.”

  He breathed out across the cards, causing the candle flames to flicker. Shadows moved across the slick surfaces, highlighting some images, leaving others in the darkness his own shadow cast over the table.

  The goat stared at him with steady eyes. The King and Queen were superseded by the robed figure, holding out hands over their heads. Blessing or control? The question seemed important.

  The Moon. What struck Joshua tonight were all the hidden, barely there forms, rising up from the waters. The scarab beetle pushed the sun disk up from those primordial depths, trying to reach the earth, and then the sky. Resurrection, rising from the death of ego.

  He still wasn’t quite getting it, though Joshua could feel the stirring of some inchoate consciousness, deep within. Keeping his breathing steady, and his spine erect, he spoke to the cards again.

  “Show me. Tell me. Please.”

  His fingers snaked toward the pendulum, a simple point of brass, on the end of a short, brass chain.

  Looping the chain between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, Joshua held the pendulum over the Moon card. He passed his hand down the chain, making certain the line of the pendulum was plumb and still.

  Then he checked. Made sure he was still as centered and still as possible.

  Yes.

  Exhaling, Joshua focused on the card. The pendulum rocked and swayed, back and forth, very gently, the movement barely perceptible in the midst of the flickering candlelight. The back and forth motion was his pendulum’s gentle “no,” which in this case—since the movement wasn’t emphatic—he took to mean “move on.”

  Glancing at the Lovers, he followed the lead of the pendulum, which seemed to be straining toward the final card instead.

  The Devil.

  He breathed in again, a long, slow draft. Stilled himself inside. Stilled the pendulum with a gentle pass of his hand over the chain.

  Focuse
d on the eyes of the big goat.

  The pendulum moved. Rocking. Swaying. It began a small, clockwise rotation. The circle grew larger and larger with each pass, the chain pulling into a taut line, tugging on Joshua’s fingers. The arc of the rotation grew so extreme, the pendulum practically flew out parallel to the coffee table, like a spinning carnival ride, pushing scooters outward by virtue of centrifugal force.

  Just across the coffee table, hovering in the space between the two damask chairs, a form shimmered, taking shape.

  Joshua’s breath hitched in his chest. The pendulum faltered before the chain snapped taut again.

  His eyes were riveted to the space between the chairs, starting to tear up from the strain of looking.

  It was a goat. A huge, white goat, with slitted, golden eyes and a mighty fish’s tail. Capricorn. Unforgiving discipline, ruled by restriction. Order. It tamed the flow of Pisces and disregarded the see-sawing attempts at regulation of the Twins.

  And it was there for him.

  He dropped the pendulum. It clattered on the table before rolling to the floor. A gust of air rushed through the open window, and the altar candles extinguished themselves, leaving climbing coils of smoke behind. The other candles in the room wavered, then flared brighter.

  Joshua was truly sweating now, fighting to control his breathing. Fighting to stay upright, to not cower beneath the altar table like a groveling worm.

  The goat opened its mouth. Joshua’s mind filled with a rushing, roaring sound.

  The sound resolved itself, forming words.

  Danger. The only sin is restriction. Protect those who do not know.

  Then the fish-tailed goat was gone. Joshua collapsed against the couch, panting and sweating.

  It was all he could do to breathe.

  The wind died down. The curtains stilled. The candles settled back into a steady glow.

  Joshua picked up the chalice from the altar, and drank until the water was gone.