And also protecting Cassie? Div was 99 percent sure that Cassie was a witch but didn’t know it. When they’d first met, Cassie had made a casual remark about wanting more rainbow highlights, and her hair had spontaneously changed colors before shimmering back to normal. That was the one and only time Div had witnessed Cassie’s maybe-magical abilities.
Being a witch was complicated. According to Callixta Crowe’s illegal magic manual, it was hereditary, although it could skip generations. A witch’s powers usually manifested at puberty, although they could also manifest earlier or later. Also, some witches might go through their entire lives without realizing they were witches.
Crowe was reputed to be the most powerful witch in history. Before her death, she’d left behind one copy of her manual, although it had disappeared into the void. Then, about a year and a half ago, excerpts had been mysteriously posted online and deleted twenty-four hours later by someone claiming to be her descendant. Div and her girls, and Greta’s girls, too, had learned vital information about witches and witchcraft and also dozens of new spells and potion recipes from those pages. She could only assume—could only hope—that scores of other witches had benefited in the same way, although she couldn’t be sure because of the necessary secrecy.
Cassie, though. In the buffet line, Div watched the girl as she heaped about fifty croutons and no salad onto a salad plate. If she really was a witch, she was in danger living with such an anti-witch family. Especially if they were Antima—or worse, the force behind the New Order, which O’Shea had represented as being a particularly virulent upgrade.
Unfortunately, Div and Mira hadn’t made much progress on this front. They still didn’t know if the Jessups were New Order specifically, Antima generally, or neither. They hadn’t gleaned any further information about the New Order, including if it actually existed. All they knew for sure was that the Jessups—or at least the Jessup men, Jared, Hunter, and Colter—despised witches and considered them to be criminals. They’d never heard Dr. Jessup or the twins express an opinion on the subject, though.
After everyone had sat down again, the conversation turned to the upcoming local election.
“How’s your dad doing, Mira, honey? Hanging in there? Political campaigns are no picnic,” Mr. Jessup said as he cut into his steak.
“He’s hardly ever home, that’s for sure. He’s usually at his campaign headquarters or going door-to-door in the neighborhoods, shaking hands and stuff,” Mira replied.
“Well, darlin’, his hard work will pay off, because he’s definitely going to win. I’ve seen the poll numbers. Our current mayor, you know, ‘Ms. Witches-Are-People-Too’”—Mr. Jessup chuckled and shook his head—“she doesn’t stand a chance against your dad. The citizens of this town have been very unhappy with her because she’s way too weak on enforcement of 6-129.”
Div saw the color drain from Mira’s face.
“You’re absolutely right, Mr. Jessup!” Div jumped in.
Mira nodded and didn’t say anything.
“Can we not talk about politics again? It’s booooring,” Cassie complained.
“Yeah. Why do adults talk about such booooring stuff?” Caitlin added.
“Politics isn’t boring. Politics is essential. The leaders who run our government, whether it’s local or statewide or national, keep this country safe for all of us,” Hunter told his sisters.
Cassie leaned over and whispered something in Caitlin’s ear. The two girls giggled.
Div glanced over at Mira, who was picking at her salad with an unhappy expression. Div knew that Mira’s family was unaware of her witch identity. But this was the first time Div had heard the suggestion that Mr. Jahani might be explicitly anti-witch; was it Mira’s first time, too? Just now, Mr. Jessup had seemed confident that Mr. Jahani would oust Mayor Lovejoy, who wasn’t pro-witch, exactly—that would be too dangerous—but was openly anti-Antima. Lovejoy was an avowed pacifist and had publicly denounced the group’s aggressive, sometimes violent tactics. Div herself could care less about her own family’s support or lack of support about her being a witch. Aunt Marta and Uncle Paul, with whom she lived, had no idea who or what she really was. Her mother, Daniela, a witch herself, lived in Barcelona, Spain, with her boyfriend-of-the-week. Her father, Andrei, lived in Bucharest, Romania, and she hadn’t spoken to him in years.
But Mira was different. She was close to her family, or as close as she could be while also keeping her true identity a secret from them. If her father turned out to be anti-witch, or at least willing to act that way in order to get elected… well, what did that mean for poor Mira?
After dinner, Hunter drew Div aside as they walked out to the parking lot. Colter and Mira were up ahead, as were Cassie and Caitlin and their parents.
Hunter put his hands on Div’s shoulders. “Did I already tell you how amazing you are?”
“Yes, but you can tell me again,” Div flirted back.
Hunger grinned. “You’re amazing. And I don’t just mean the fact that you’re smart and fun and gorgeous. You really seem to get it.”
“Get… what?”
“The threat. The thing that could destroy our society as we know it.”
Div didn’t flinch. She looked him straight in the eye and nodded. “Of course, I get it. What sane person wouldn’t? But I’m not scared of it, either. We’re stronger than them, and we will prevail.”
“Exactly. Okay, I have to say it one more time. You’re amazing.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the lips. He was a good kisser. Too good. Div felt her cheeks flush and her heart race as he cupped her face with his hands and kissed her deeply, probingly.
Stop it. He’s the enemy.
After a moment, he leaned away. She caught her breath.
“So there’s something I have to tell you,” he said.
“Yes?” Div blinked, trying to regain her composure. She noticed traces of her pale pink lipstick on his mouth.
“You know about the Antima, right?”
Div stared at him and stood a little straighter. Something’s happening. “Sure.”
“How do you feel about them?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “I completely understand their cause. I wish they didn’t have to resort to violence, because, well… violence is bad, no matter who uses it and for what reason. But I get what they’re trying to do, that they’re just trying to enforce the law.”
Hunter nodded. “Exactly! I knew you’d understand. The thing is—and you may already be aware of this—but they aren’t very well organized. Up until now, it’s been a bunch of randoms here and there who hear about the Antima movement online or wherever and decide to join, maybe form a local group and give themselves a cool-sounding name. The Sons of Maximus, the Truth Bearers…”
“I’ve heard that.”
“Well, we’re trying to change all that. Make things more centralized, have just one leader.”
Div’s heart began racing again, for an entirely different reason. Hunter was about to reveal vitally crucial intel.
“That’s a great idea. So you’re involved in that? Good for you!” Div told him.
“Me and some of my family, yeah.”
Who in your family, exactly? But Div didn’t want to push.
“So I was thinking—” Hunter hesitated, then nodded to himself. “I think you’re ready, and please keep this confidential. Here goes—I want you to be in this with me.”
What is he saying? “Of course.”
“Good. That’s excellent. What are you doing tomorrow afternoon, two thirty?”
Her girls were coming over, but not until evening. “I’m all yours. Why?”
“We’re having a meeting at the house. I’d like you to be there.”
Div inhaled deeply to steady herself. This was huge.
“You mean… like an Antima meeting?”
“Not just an Antima meeting. It’s more of a VIP leadership meeting. It’s all the people who are trying to centralize
the effort.”
“Yes! I’d be honored. So this is kind of like the Antima 2.0.”
“Kind of. Except we’re giving ourselves a new name. We’re giving the whole national movement a new name. The New Order… what do you think?”
Div smiled to herself. O’Shea and her witches had been right all along. The New Order did exist, and the Jessups were behind it… some of them, anyway.
“The New Order… it’s perfect,” she told Hunter.
As they walked out of the country club arm in arm, Div’s mind swirled with satisfaction. And strategies. And rage.
Got you, Hunter. Got you, Jessups. The New Order is about to become history.
6
DISSIMULATION
There is a fine line between enemies and allies.
(FROM THE GOOD BOOK OF MAGIC AND MENTALISM BY CALLIXTA CROWE)
After the coven meeting, Ridley left Greta’s house and began walking briskly down Junipero Serra Drive. The sky was dark, with a smattering of stars, and the air was cool and damp. Way below, the lights of downtown Sorrow Point twinkled faintly against the black, invisible bay as a veil of evening fog rolled in. From somewhere in the neighborhood, a dog began barking; a second dog joined in, and then they were still.
A new witch in their coven. That was big, and also unexpected. Greta hadn’t mentioned Torrence Innsworth to them before today, or even that she was thinking about replacing Binx.
Of course, just last month, she’d recruited Iris into their coven without giving Binx and Ridley any notice….
Torrence seemed okay so far, just as Iris had turned out to be okay—in her case, more than okay. Greta had a good instinct about people as well as a kind heart. Although Iris, who was usually so cheerful and animated, had acted sullen and unhappy during much of today’s coven meeting. What was up with that?
Ridley glanced at her watch. It would be dinnertime when she got home—Momma had texted earlier that she was making her famous pot roast with the little potatoes and carrots. It was nice to see Momma back to her old self, or almost back to her old self, anyway. She’d even started working again, as the head of communications in the mayor’s office at City Hall, which was similar to the job she’d had back in Cleveland. Ridley and her father were both terrible cooks, and with his crazy-busy shifts as a paramedic, they’d been living mostly on Taco Bell, pizza, and other carryout foods this past year while Momma healed from her depression.
Ridley turned the corner onto Hazelnut. She was about ten minutes from home—fifteen, including her usual stop. As she walked, she made a mental checklist of tasks she should knock off after dinner, because honestly, she missed being an organized person. She’d promised Harmony she would play Candy Land, so there was that. She’d also promised to help Momma box up everyone’s summer clothes, bring them up to the attic, and bring down the winter ones. And she could combine hanging-out-with-Daddy time with homework time by studying for her French test while he watched TV.
Later, she would practice her violin—Kreisler’s “Liebesfreud,” with the light, graceful pulse and the carefree Viennese-waltz vibe that should have been easy to execute but were actually really challenging. She’d end the day by cleaning out Agent Smith’s cage, changing his litter box, and feeding him fresh timothy hay and kale.
Good. This was progress. Like Momma, Ridley could—she would—morph back to her former multitasking, super-efficient self.
At the end of the block, she hesitated for a moment, then turned right and headed in the general direction of her house. This way took longer than the route through the new development, Seabreeze, but she’d pretty much avoided that shortcut ever since…
No, don’t think about that.
The other advantage of her old route through Seabreeze had been all the vacant building lots and unfinished houses where she could hide and do her awful muto ritual. Lately, she’d been making do in the non-Seabreeze neighborhoods, trying to pick random safe, or safe-ish, spots like behind trees and bushes and people’s garages. The twice-a-day muto was her only defiance of Greta’s ban on public magic… well, that, plus the calumnia she’d had to employ this morning during the field trip, thanks to Aysha’s indiscretion.
The calumnia might not have been totally necessary, but the muto most definitely was. Ridley still hadn’t told her parents that she was a trans girl, and they knew her only by her untrue identity. She’d been trying to teach herself a couple of very advanced spells to solve her dilemma for good—vertero, to transform her anatomy and physical appearance permanently without surgery or medicines, and dissimulatio, to make her parents perceive her as a male-seeming version of herself… also permanently, or at least until she was ready to come out to them.
But when would that be? Would Daddy and Momma ever be capable of hearing the truth? The family had moved to Sorrow Point last fall to make a fresh start after Ridley’s brother Daniel’s unexpected death. The horrible diving accident. Ridley had decided to make an additional fresh start in their new town by using muto and a few other spells to live as her true self at school and around Sorrow Point… everywhere but at home. The aftermath of Daniel’s death had plunged Momma into a deep depression, and Ridley had been reluctant to add more drama and difficulty to the situation, especially since Daniel and Daddy’s last conversation had been a huge fight over the fact that Daniel was dating a boy. If Daddy was anti-gay, surely he was anti-trans as well?
And likely anti-magic, too? No one in the family knew about Ridley’s magic except for her aunt Viola, who was also a witch. It was a secret the two of them shared. Aunt Viola was her father’s older sister and still lived in Cleveland, running a small neighborhood flower shop where she held gardening classes and herbology lectures in the back room. Aunt Viola was the one who’d discovered Ridley’s abilities, when Ridley was ten.
Ridley pulled out her phone and made a note to e-mail her aunt tonight. She’d written to Ridley a couple of days ago, saying that she had a big surprise for her, and Ridley had never written back. I am a bad niece, she chided herself.
She pocketed her phone and glanced around. There. To the right was a narrow alleyway that snaked between two bungalows. Seems pretty private. She turned into it and eventually came upon a large dumpster. She slipped behind it, sighed, and began the unhappy ritual.
It was after ten o’clock when Ridley’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. She’d just gotten into her warm, cozy bed, so she decided to ignore it and let it go to voice mail. Besides, who would be calling so late?
Silence… then the phone began buzzing again. Across the room, Agent Smith rattled his metal cage agitatedly.
“It’s okay,” Ridley murmured to him. She sat up, reached for her phone, and glanced at the screen.
Div?
The girl had never called Ridley, ever. She happened to be in Ridley’s contact list only because of an old group text that Greta had sent around to both covens. That, along with the lateness of the hour, could only mean…
Panicked, Ridley pressed talk. “Is everything okay? Did something happen to Binx? Or one of the other girls?” she whispered frantically.
“Everyone’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Div replied.
“Oh, whew.”
Ridley reached over to the nightstand and clicked on her Darth Vader lamp—a long-ago birthday present from her parents that was definitely not her style, despite the excellence of the Star Wars movies… most of them, anyway. “O-kay. So what’s up?” She continued to whisper since her family was likely asleep.
“I wanted to update your coven on some news. Normally I do this with Greta, but she hasn’t been returning my calls or texts. Likely she’s still nursing a grudge over Binx’s defection to my coven. So that left me with either you or Iris, and to be perfectly honest, Iris drives me crazy.”
“Why?”
“For one thing, she never seems to shut up.”
“She gets nervous.”
“Still. Also, why are you whispering?”
“Once my aunt and uncle take their sleeping pills, nothing wakes them up. Anyway, I’ll get to the point.”
“Sure.”
Div proceeded to tell Ridley about her new discovery, that some of the Jessups—she wasn’t sure which ones, exactly—were indeed the force behind a new Antima group called the New Order, just as Ms. O’Shea and her coven had theorized.
“Whoa.”
“Yes, exactly.”
Ridley mulled over this revelation. Among other things, did this mean that Sorrow Point was about to become the center, the apex, of the Antima movement?
And did this further implicate Colter in Penelope’s death?
“Do you think Penelope found out? Do you think that’s why Colter… or maybe someone else in his family… felt they had to… um”—Ridley’s voice caught in her throat—“silence her?”
“It’s possible. So there’s going to be a New Order meeting at their house tomorrow afternoon, and Hunter invited me. This is big.”
“Are you going to go?”
“Of course I’m going to go. I’ll basically be getting access to the Antima inner sanctum.”
“What if you… I mean, what if they figure out who you are?”
“They won’t. Will you please let your coven know about this development?”
“Yeah, of course!”
“There’s also a regular Antima meeting tomorrow at one o’clock at the community center. I’m sending Binx and Aysha and Mira. Does anyone from your coven plan to attend?”
Witch Rising Page 6