Moon Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  I’m not sure how to respond. It’s true that after I killed Seth I stopped spending so much time nurturing the friendships I began only weeks earlier. I’ve barely spoken to West, Bria, or Felix in months. It’s not just Owen I’ve lost touch with. For weeks, all through the holiday season and into the new year, I barely spoke to anyone. And when I came out of my self-inflicted silence, Tucker was the one I started to connect with. He and Griffin had already formed an alliance, into which I was granted admittance. Although I’m sure I could come up with a suitable lie to explain why these are the two people I’ve chosen to open up to—as little as I’ve been required to—I know the truth. I simply can’t expect the same kind of acceptance from anyone else. It’s not like Griffin and Tucker are evil—not by any means—but they both have the air of a bad boy. No one would expect either of them to help an old lady across the street or chase down a purse-snatcher. Neither holds me to the kind of standards my other friends invariably would—standards I don’t think I would meet now. Maybe I’ll never meet them again. The night Seth died, I changed. I’ll never be the girl I once was. All I can do now is move forward into the new life I’ve carved out for myself. And I just can’t see Owen fitting into that world.

  I throw my head back and sigh. “Look, guys, it’s good to know you care and all, but let’s drop this. I’m fine. Can we just order a pizza or something and get on with the night? You guys are kind of freaking me out with your concern right now.”

  Although the looks on their faces clearly show they’re not pleased with me so quickly shutting down the conversation, neither presses the matter. Griffin pulls out his phone and starts giving different food options. Tucker picks up his controller and un-pauses his game. As our night falls into its usual casual rhythm, I take in a breath of relief. I’m thankful for these two, and I would hate for our easy relationship to morph into something serious and uncomfortable. At this point, Tucker and Griffin are the only friends I have, and I don’t want to lose them.

  Chapter Five

  Sasha

  I scrub the lonely, chipped plate of the melted cheese I didn’t bother prying off at the end of my meal. Tonight’s dinner looked far more promising on the picture on the front of the box than it was in reality. The water is hot, so hot it pinkens the skin on my fingers, but I don’t add any from the cold tap. The searing heat feels good. It anchors me back to reality, my mission. Going to see Anya shook me more than I thought it would. I can’t get over how nice she was to me, how excited to see me. If our roles were reversed, I don’t think I would have reacted the same way.

  A knock sounds at the apartment door as I turn off the water and set the plate on the drying rack. I cross the small space to the door, not bothering to glance through the tiny peephole to see who is standing outside before pulling the door open. Only one person ever comes to visit me.

  Elliot’s blue eyes are wide and sparkling. When his gaze meets mine, a broad smile stretches across his mouth. I can’t recall the last time he was this happy to see me. I don’t bother with a verbal invitation into the apartment, and he doesn’t wait for one before crossing the threshold.

  I’ve known Elliot my whole life—or as near to it as possible. Not every child born to the Devoted was accompanied by a vision from one of our psychics, but he and I both were. It was foretold that the two of us would be the most powerful witch and psychic in generations. Because of this, from the moment Elliot was born, almost a year to the day after me, the two of us have been thrown together. My earliest memories are laced with him. I can recall with perfect clarity what he looked like when he lost his two front teeth. I remember the exact location of his first pimple. I can still see the excited gleam in his eye when he told me about his first crush, along with the completely defeated look he got after the girl told him she wouldn’t be his girlfriend because he and I were meant to be together.

  There’s never been even an ounce of romantic interest between the two of us, despite the fact that everyone in the Devoted wished there would be. It was their greatest hope that one day we would have children of our own, that those children would have abilities that rivaled ours. It’s not that Elliot isn’t good-looking—quite the contrary. He wears his dark hair close-cropped, and I thought on more than one occasion that he looks something like a European model might. His eyes are bright and kind, and the angles of his face are pleasing. But I’ve never been able to see Elliot as anything but a friend—almost a brother. The one time we tried our hand at kissing—for experimental purposes only—the two of us made a blood oath to never do it again because it felt so weird, so wrong.

  Still, for all the years I’ve known him, I can’t recall ever seeing him this excited.

  “What’s up?” I ask as I close the door behind him.

  “I just heard.” He moves deeper into the apartment. The place is nothing spectacular—a simple, dingy, one-bedroom place above the bookstore—but there’s no place I’d rather be. This was the apartment Seth lived in briefly when he stayed in Clearwater. Being here makes me feel close to him. I’ve added some furniture, but besides that I’ve left the place largely untouched. The card table tucked against the wall is still scattered with papers he left. Eventually I should probably move them to keep them safe, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it yet. “I think it’s great,” Elliot continues.

  I take in a breath to calm my rising emotions. Of course he knows. It’s not like I thought I could keep it a secret from him, but I anticipated being the one to tell him I made contact with Anya. I can’t help the flare of jealousy at the idea that he sees her without me, despite the fact that I know the two of them are close. They always were, even when we were growing up. He hasn’t kept it from me that he’s reconnected with her, but it still stings to think about him just popping by the shop to chat with my sister. What’s worse is I’m not sure he would have come to visit me at all if it wasn’t for the fact that I saw Anya earlier. We still spend time together, of course, but not as frequently as we used to.

  Right after Seth and the rest of the Devoted died, after Elliot convinced me to stay here in Clearwater, he tried to tell me that maybe things were better this way. He never liked the idea that the two of us would be forced to marry and procreate any more than I did, but it hurt when he was elated that now we wouldn’t have to do that. He tried to tell me that now we could live the lives we always wanted to, and he couldn’t understand when I said the only life I wanted to live was the one where Seth came back to fulfill the prophecy I spent my whole life believing in. I think we both spent the last few months waiting for the other person to come around. I hate that he thinks I’m the one who broke, and it’s that fact alone that makes me consider telling him that my reconnection with Anya is not as straightforward as it seems. There was a time when I could have told him this without any reservation, but I know those days are past. If I tell him I only went to see Anya as the first step in getting intel on Krissa Barnette to hurt her, I run the risk of him disclosing my plan to my sister.

  Instead, I hitch a smile onto my face and follow him to the living room. “It is great,” I say, keeping my tone light. “I think it’s… I think it’s guilt that’s kept me from going to her sooner.” It’s the line I prepared for this conversation. “I know you told me she wouldn’t hold it against me, but I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe she’d still want me to be her sister after everything I did to her.”

  We sink down onto the couch, our knees almost touching, and Elliot reaches over to squeeze my hand. “We can start over. Have a new life—a real life. I’m glad you’re finally accepting that.”

  My body tenses, but I force the muscles to unclench. Elliot knows me better than anyone, and I can’t let him think I’m anything but sincere in my desire to reconnect with my only family. “I’m glad I have you to help me accept it.” As well as he knows me, I know him, and the surest way to take Elliot’s attention off me is to put it on him. One of his few weaknesses is flattery.

  “
Have you already eaten? We could go out and grab a bite.”

  I offer a rueful smile. “I wish I hadn’t, but you’re about twenty minutes too late.”

  He snorts, probably imagining what nightmarish food I prepared for myself. He knows I’ve always been a disaster in the kitchen. “Have you got a minute? If I’m honest, I didn’t come just because you saw Anya today. I mean, that’s part of it. There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for help with for a while now, but I figured you’d shoot me down. But now… Maybe you’ll be a little more open.”

  A pain shoots through my chest at the idea that Elliot thought he couldn’t come to me for help about something, anything. For as intertwined as our lives have always been, it’s hard to think there would be any reason for him to think I wouldn’t help him. “Sure, anything.”

  The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile before he continues. “You remember my mom’s youngest brother?”

  I cast my thoughts backward several years. The man in question was much younger than Elliot’s mom, more like an older brother than an uncle. He got the two of us into plenty of trouble, but we also had some of our greatest adventures with him at our side. That is, until the Devoted cast him out of our ranks because he failed to develop any kind of ability. “Nate. Of course. What about him?”

  Elliot cocks his head and gives me a look that tells me I should know exactly what about him. “I want to find him. Part of me always has, but I was afraid he wouldn’t want to see me. If I’m honest, I was afraid what the Devoted would do to me if I did find him.”

  I swallow around the lump rapidly forming in my throat. “Find him?” Finding those who had been cast out is something that was only ever whispered about in the Devoted. To say it out loud put someone at risk of being cast out themselves. Those without abilities were not to be missed. We were not to spare a second thought for them once they were gone. We were told over and over again that keeping around family members who did not manifest abilities would simply dilute our already languishing bloodlines. “How can I help? I don’t know where they sent castaways.”

  His eyebrows pull together in the center. “I never thought you did. What I need help with is some kind of spell. According to Anya, the Devoted used magic to keep the castaways from being detected by anyone who might try to find them. It was just a precaution, in case someone lost a child they couldn’t bear parting with. I guess they figured if people didn’t know where the castaways ended up, there wouldn’t be the temptation to go join them.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if it’s the most barbaric thing he can think of. I do my best to keep my face neutral, as if I could agree with him. And even though Elliot promised me a long time ago he wouldn’t invade my thoughts with his psychic abilities, I also try to push down my silent agreement with what our leaders did. I don’t even see why a spell would be necessary—it’s not like castaways are worth finding.

  He looks at me expectantly, and I know he’s waiting for an answer. I’m just not sure I can give him the one he wants. “I don’t know, Elliot. What makes you think I can break a spell like that?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re the strongest witch the Devoted have seen in generations.” He rolls his eyes for effect as he quotes the line the two of us have heard countless times in our lives. “Anya seems to think that since the Devoted are all gone now, it might be easier to break the spell.”

  I roll my shoulders, uncomfortable. Not once since his uncle was sent away has Elliot mentioned his desire to have Nate back. Why now? But I already know the answer. Besides me and Anya, Elliot has no one left in the world. He’s always been more of a people person than I, so I guess it makes sense that he wants to cobble together some kind of family. But that doesn’t make it a good idea. “I’m not sure you thought this through. It’s been what—ten years? A lot can happen in a decade. What if he doesn’t want to see you?”

  Elliot holds out his hands. “I was nine when they kicked him out. Do you think he’s going to hold me accountable?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t want anything to do with the Devoted. Maybe he’s got a whole new life now and he doesn’t want to be reminded of the past. Or maybe something’s happened to him. What if we find he died in a car accident five years ago? Would you still want to know?” I cover his hand with mine. I’m not trying to burst his bubble, and I hope he understands that. But one of us has to be the realist. “Don’t you think it’s better to start over fresh now than to live in the past?”

  For the first time since his arrival, Elliot’s face falls. It’s a quality he’s always possessed, the ability to go from sunshine to thunderstorm in the blink of an eye. His expression clouds as he meets my eyes again. “What about us? Are we better left in the past too?”

  I shake my head. “Don’t be dramatic. You know that’s not what I mean.”

  “How do I know that? Our lives are drastically different than they were even six months ago. I know you and I have been on opposite sides when it comes to how we feel about those changes. Maybe it’s best if we both just go our separate ways from here. You didn’t want to stay here in Clearwater. You only did because I asked you to. Maybe it’s time for you to move on.”

  I huff. Elliot’s penchant for melodrama grates my nerves. I have no intention of leaving Clearwater, at least not until I have my revenge. There was a time when I would bring Elliot in on my plan, but now is not it. The fact is, I can’t trust him to be in lockstep with me anymore. It’s an odd situation to be in, considering we’ve always been there for each other in the past. I could take him up on his offer right now, pull away, keep to myself. I could break off our friendship. It might make things easier, not having to keep my plans from him to be sure Anya doesn’t catch wind of them. But can I really do that? Can I really cut Elliot out so completely? Before the questions are even fully formed in my mind, I already know the answer. No. Despite our differences, I can’t let go. I scoot closer to him on the couch and sling my arm over his shoulder. “Don’t think you can get away from me so easily. Elliot, no matter what, you’re still my best friend.”

  Elliot’s stormy expression clears, and he offers a small smile. “You sure?”

  I ball my hand into a fist and thump him on the shoulder. “Keep it up, jerk. See if I help you.”

  This elicits a grin. “So you’ll do it? You’ll help?”

  I sigh. As much as I think it’s a bad idea, I know if I deny him assistance, he’ll question my loyalty to him, and that will only lead to him questioning my purposes in rejoining Anya’s life. “I think that’s what I just said. Keep up, will you?”

  He slides his arm around my waist and gives me a side hug. “This means a lot to me. Thank you.”

  I allow him to squeeze me for a beat longer before shoving him away playfully. “Let’s not get all sappy,” I warn, but I can’t help smiling. “You want something to drink?” Without waiting for his response, I stand and move toward the kitchen.

  “Sure,” he says, not bothering to ask for options. I know his preferences as well as I know my own. “I’m sure you’ll be able to break whatever enchantment is keeping the castaways hidden. I’ve got a good feeling about this. You’ll find them. I have no doubt.”

  I raise an eyebrow as I pull open the refrigerator door. “What, you expect me to find all of them?” The thought is frankly alarming. Although I never tried to count how many people were cast out of our community as I was growing up, the number has to reach into the dozens—and those are just the ones I paid attention to. Does he really want me to locate everyone? That seems like a bad idea on many levels. Sure, Nate might be happy to see him, but what about the people to whom we have little or no connection? Would they be happy to have a reminder of the life they could’ve had if only they hadn’t been born lacking? I feel like it might cause some people more pain than it’s worth.

  “Not everyone,” Elliot says with a laugh. “Just Nate and Misha.”

  I freeze as my hand touches the ha
lf-full carton of milk. Misha. That name hasn’t crossed my mind in thirteen years.

  Misha, my other sister.

  I fight against the flood of memories that crash over me. She was older, the middle child. Although she was much closer in age to Anya, she never missed an opportunity to play some silly make-believe game with me, and she never complained when I wanted to tag along with her. I always looked up to Anya, but I loved Misha desperately. The hardest thing when she was cast out was being told by my parents that I needed to forget about her. They claimed she wasn’t worthy of my love, and I believed them. I put her out of my mind—something made easier by Anya’s disappearance soon after Misha was put out. I was encouraged to miss my eldest sister because she had manifested abilities. Her loss was a blow to the community. I was able to redirect all my feelings about Misha’s loss into Anya’s, and as time passed, I came to agree with what my parents told me.

  But now all those feelings flood me. Elliot and Anya want to find Misha. Even if they can, will I want to see her? Will she want to see me? What happens if they do find her and I realize I still love her? It’s been drilled into me not to waste my emotions on someone inferior. What if I can’t help caring for my sister even though she’s ordinary? What does that say about me?

  Chapter Six

  Crystal

  I blink and press the heels of my hands against my closed eyelids. It feels like I’ve been staring at the computer screen for my entire life. The colors on this particular website are garish and clash horribly. I have half a mind to email the webmaster and ask if they were tripping on acid or something when they put together this particular combination but decide it’s probably not worth my time. If the overall look of the site is any indication, it probably hasn’t been updated in ten years or so. Attempting to email the webmaster would be an exercise in futility—as it seems my search is becoming.