Moon Magic

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Moon Magic Page 17

by Madeline Freeman


  My fingers twitch. Spells jockey for position in my mind—the kind I learned in preparation of Seth’s coming, the ones capable of inflicting pain. But I don’t cast one. He’s obviously powerful, and if I attack him, it could be the last thing I do. Then what might he do to Elliot? To Anya?

  He stands, his bearing that of a man whose business is complete. “I recommend you do all that’s within your power to get me that information.” With one last predatory smile, he turns and strides to my door, letting himself out.

  As soon as the door clicks closed behind him, the adrenaline that’s been coursing through me since I first saw Brody on my couch ebbs and I sink back into the lumpy cushions. This isn’t what I signed up for. My plan was simple: Bring the Amaranthine here and lead them to Crystal Jamison. If she couldn’t deliver, people Krissa cares about would get hurt. But now it’s my friend, my family, in the cross hairs.

  Crystal needs magic, and there’s a way for her to get some. At least I think there is. There was talk from time to time about a spell that could give powers to someone without them. Mothers and fathers would speak about it in hushed tones when the possibility arose one of their children would become a castaway. No one ever went through with it, though, because the price was too steep, the consequences too dark.

  But those dark consequences won’t be mine to deal with, they’ll be Krissa’s.

  I glance down at my throbbing feet. As much as I’d love to sit, to try my hand at locating the spell I want somewhere online, I don’t have time to waste. There’s one place on earth I’m positive I can find what I need, even if it’s the last place I ever expected to step foot in again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Krissa

  I think I might have a way to contact Bess. Crystal might not like it, but I’m past the point of caring. I haven’t run this idea past her because it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

  I plan to do it first thing in the morning, since Lexie is in my first hour English class, but all the seats surrounding her are already full by the time I enter the room. It would be possible for me to use a confusion or persuasion spell on those sitting nearby to make them move, but Dana and West are also in the class and I don’t want to tip either of them off that I’m doing something out of the ordinary. Dana might tell Crystal and West… Well, West might not care at all, if I’m honest. Still, there’s a chance my behavior might pique his curiosity, and the last thing I want is for him to find out about the Amaranthine. I don’t want him involved in this. It’s bad enough I’m mixed up in it, as that puts my family in danger.

  I wait until after class to make my move. I intercept Lexie on her way to her locker, hooking my hand in the crook of her arm and tugging her down the hall.

  “What the—” Lexie glances at me before letting out a sigh. “Oh, it’s just you. Why are you kidnapping me?”

  A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. I’m relieved she didn’t just shake me off. “I need your help. Actually, Crystal needs your help.”

  Lexie curses under her breath. “Why is she sending you? Why isn’t she asking me herself?”

  I lead her down the hall toward a seldom-used stairwell. Crystal takes it occasionally, but never between first and second hour, so I figure she won’t disturb us. “She didn’t send me. She’s not the kind of person who asks for help.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Lexie mutters. She pushes open the fire door that closes the stairwell off from the rest of the hall, holding it for me. I nod thanks as I walk past her. “What’s this about?”

  Since I came up with this idea yesterday, I’ve run through countless scenarios in my head about how to explain everything. Part of me thinks the less Lexie knows the safer she’ll be, but is Lexie really safe at all? As Crystal’s cousin, Brody’s very presence threatens her. Still, no point in frightening her unnecessarily. If this works, we can get Brody’s information and he’ll leave us alone.

  Before I can begin my explanation, the doors we passed through moments ago swing open. My whole body goes on alert. I expect Crystal to walk in after us, to demand what we’re talking about, so I’m surprised when it’s Felix who appears. “What are you doing here?”

  He tilts his head to the side. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  I eye him closely as he walks further into the stairwell, positioning himself at Lexie’s side. “Stalker much? This is a private conversation. You don’t need to be here.”

  He glances at Lexie. “I’m sure she doesn’t mind.”

  Lexie tugs at his shirtsleeve, casting a glance in my direction. “What are you doing here?” Her voice is softer than I expect it to be.

  “Try not to get too riled up. Believe it or not, I’m not keeping psychic tabs on you. But I did sense the two of you were wandering down here, so I came to check it out.”

  Several things click into place in my mind. The first is how casual Lexie is as she touches Felix. Also, there’s the familiar way he’s talking with her. I was so distracted back when the witches and psychics were bound together that I didn’t pay too much attention to the fact that the two of them were spending more time together. Back in my old reality, Bria once mentioned that Lexie and Felix were into each other but hadn’t made a move. Are the two of them together now? How could I not have noticed that?

  If they’re together, it makes sense that he would be more aware of her, but that doesn’t explain why he’d come after her if he realized she was with me. Unless it does. A flush rises in my face as it occurs to me what his presence implies. “You don’t trust me,” I accuse. “What do you think I’m going to do? I just need to talk to her—she’s not in any danger.”

  Felix takes a step toward me, holding up both his hands. “Whoa there, crazypants. It never entered my mind you might want to hurt her. When I realized you guys were wandering off together, I was curious. I just want to see what’s up.”

  I scrutinize his face. Is he lying to me, just trying to calm me down? I dismiss the idea. It’s too out of character for him.

  The warning bell sounds through the hall. Only a minute until second hour begins. I need to make this fast before we all end up with detention for being tardy. I could insist Felix leave, but I know him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t go without a fight. Figuring Lexie will probably just tell him anyway, I decide to go for it. “There’s this group of witches—the Amaranthine—who found out somehow about Crystal being possessed. They believe Bess knew something—some information they’ve been searching for. They want her to connect with Bess to find out what. We haven’t had any luck, and I think it’s because Crystal doesn’t have abilities anymore. I’m fairly certain we need someone with a biological link to Bess in order for the contacting spell to work. Since Crystal can’t manage, that leaves you, Lexie. Can you help?”

  Lexie’s face scrunches with concentration as she takes in my words. “And why exactly do we care what this Amaranthine group wants? Why not just tell them we don’t have the information?”

  I hesitate before answering. I don’t want to tell her how dangerous they are, but I do have to give her a reason. “Suffice it to say they won’t leave her alone until they have whatever it is they’re looking for.”

  Lexie considers this. My reasoning is vague, but it seems to be enough. “I’ll help. When do you want to do it?”

  I release a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. “Today after school if I can get it set up. Would that work for you?”

  She glances at Felix. “I kind of already have plans, but I think I could get out of them.”

  Felix shakes his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’ll come, too.”

  The tardy bell rings and Lexie leads the way out of the stairwell.

  “No,” I say quickly. “I mean, it’s a spell. You’re not a witch. You won’t really be any help.”

  Lexie nods toward a door to the right. “This is me. I’ll let you two figure this out.”

  Before she can duck into her classroom, Fe
lix tugs her hand until she’s facing him again. He brushes a swift kiss across her lips before releasing her. I have to look away.

  Felix rejoins me as I hurry toward my science class. “It’s a spell, yeah, but I figure it won’t hurt to have an extra psychic around if you’re seeking out someone’s consciousness.”

  “I am a psychic, in case you forgot.”

  Felix tugs on my hand, forcing me to stop and face him. “I know. I know you’re not connecting to minds anymore.” He taps a finger against the bracelet on my wrist. “Now, I’m sure you can take that off to do the spell, but I’m guessing you really don’t like to. I’m also guessing you’re a little out of practice. I think you know as well as I do I can help you on this.”

  There’s no point claiming he’s not right. As much as I still want to be the one who solves this problem for Crystal, I have to accept that I might be part of the reason the spell isn’t working to begin with. It probably would be beneficial to have another psychic on the case. Besides, he already knows what’s going on, so it’s not like his presence will put him in any more danger than he’s possibly already in. “Okay. You can come.”

  “Thanks for the blessing, but I was going to come anyway.” He grins, waggling his eyebrows. Wow, I’ve missed him. He splits off, heading down the hall to his classroom. As I walk toward science, I can’t help the swell of gratitude that rises inside me. Now I can only hope my plan will work.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sasha

  I never intended to come back here. When I originally left, I assumed it was because the Devoted would take our rightful place in Clearwater when Seth purged it of the ordinary. After everyone died, it was because going back would be too bitter a reminder of everything I’d lost.

  As the beat-up Civic rambles over the cracked asphalt leading to the center of our out-of-the-way settlement, I can’t help remembering all the times someone cast a spell to repair a pothole when it would appear. But there’s no magic here now, and I jerk and jostle inside the car no matter how slowly I go.

  The protective enchantments around the town have no doubt broken, yet I’m not surprised to find the area completely vacant. This place was chosen specifically because no one has any reason to come through here.

  No one but me.

  I park outside the meeting house at the center of town. It’s a long, squat building made of brown bricks that Elliot and I used to call the poop house due both to the color and the unfortunate aroma that would inevitably tinge the air during longer sessions. I could never figure out why no one ever cast a spell to make the place smell better.

  The houses are laid out in concentric circles around this point. There are no businesses or office buildings. We never needed them. That’s the beauty of living in a town full of people with abilities. If something breaks, magic can fix it. If you can’t do it yourself, ask your neighbor. Water and power? The psychics persuaded the appropriate local departments to run the necessary plumbing and wiring and mixed up their heads so we never saw a bill. Anything we couldn’t or didn’t want to make ourselves, we’d go to the nearest town to procure.

  I park the car and climb out. I’ve made a mental list of which houses to check for the information I seek. I may have to branch out, as I’m working on the imperfect memories of a child, but at least I’ve got some places to start.

  The Malloys had four children. The first two ended up as castaways, and when it looked like the same fate might befall their third, they mentioned it. Influence. Elliot and I were over, playing with the two younger kids, when I left the room to ask for a drink of water. That’s the first time I remember overhearing the word. They noticed me before I heard too much, but I got a sense the conversation was serious and very, very secret. I never even told Elliot. Within a few months, both kids manifested and I forgot all about it until the day I forgot my sweatshirt at the meeting house. I was more than halfway home when I remembered, and by the time I made my way back, I figured everyone would be long gone.

  I was wrong.

  The five settlement leaders were still there, and they weren’t happy. The atmosphere was tense. I should have left immediately, but I heard that word again. Influence. Miranda Stevens was trying to make a case for casting the spell, but the other leaders questioned her sanity. They likened use of the spell to unleashing a demon.

  I start at the Malloys’ house. There are no locks on the front door and I let myself in. The floor plans of all the homes are virtually identical, so even though this isn’t where I lived, I automatically know where everything is.

  It’s disconcerting walking through the living room. My skin prickles like I’m a child expecting to be caught doing something naughty, even though I know there’s no one here. I start in the master bedroom. It’s the most likely place for parents to hide something. The room is in slight disarray. There’s a pile of dirty laundry on the floor, as if Mrs. Malloy had been collecting it to wash before being interrupted. The bed is unmade. The coating of dust on the dresser is the only indication that the house’s inhabitants haven’t stepped out recently to return later.

  The people who lived here are dead, still I feel like a thief when I start ransacking drawers. I check everywhere I can think—under the mattress, tucked up beneath drawers, in the back of the closet. I scour the floor for loose boards and try every spell I can think of to reveal something hidden. The rest of the house gets the same treatment, and by the time I’m done, I’m convinced there’s nothing related to Influence here. It’s possible they never had physical information. Perhaps they’d only been discussing something overheard.

  My spirit sinks with each step toward Miranda Stevens’ place. What if I don’t find anything there either? What if these people had just been talking about old wives’ tales they’d heard? Or, worse, what if I’m remembering everything wrong? If the spell I’m seeking is little more than the fabrications of an overactive imagination, where does that leave me?

  But my fears turn out to be unfounded. Tucked in a black velvet bag in the back of Miranda Stevens’ china cabinet is a thin leather grimoire tied with a thong. The cover is still supple to the touch, unlike some I’ve seen that have cracked with age. I wonder how old it is. Although each page is filled, there aren’t many spells contained within, as each one is complex and accompanied by words of caution. It seems nothing within is to be undertaken lightly, and each carries serious consequences.

  I understand now why no one in the Devoted ever worked this spell. Magic comes from nature and the ability to wield it is inborn. Every person has natural limitations. To get around that, Influence can’t draw its power from nature. Spells cast using Influence come from somewhere else, somewhere darker. And if what’s written on these pages it true, Influence can drive a person to madness.

  Perfect.

  ***

  I feel like a stalker, sitting in my Civic across the street from the Clearwater High parking lot. I put a tracking spell on Crystal’s car, so technically I could be sitting at home waiting, but I’m too keyed up to be locked in my stuffy apartment. Besides, if she stops somewhere quick—like at a coffee shop or a gas station—I need to be able to show up without too much time elapsing.

  When the bell finally rings at the end of the school day, it doesn’t take long for students to start pouring out of the building. I don’t bother scouring the faces for Crystal’s: Her bright green car is more than a little conspicuous. It’s not until it starts moving that I bother to start my engine.

  At first I’m afraid she’s going to go straight home, but I’m pleasantly surprised when she pulls into the parking lot of the library. I can’t help smiling at my stroke of luck.

  I take care to allow enough time to elapse between when she enters the building and when I do so she won’t notice me walk in. By the time I’m inside, Crystal is nowhere in sight. Panic threatens to swell, but I remind myself there are only so many places she could be. I look up and down some aisles before noticing her in the computer section. Instead
of using her own laptop, she’s logged in to one of the library’s machines. There’s a man in his sixties sitting with his face mere inches away from the screen a few stations away from her, but the spot right beside Crystal is open. I adjust the ropes of the drawstring backpack on my shoulders before making my way to her side.

  She minimizes her browser window when she realizes there’s someone near her. Yeah, that’s not at all suspicious. She attempts a subtle glance in my direction—probably to determine whether the patron settling beside her will be nosy enough to read over her shoulder—but all pretense of nonchalance evaporates when she recognizes me. A pinwheel of emotions scroll across her features—surprise, curiosity, fear—before she settles on one. Hostility.

  “What are you doing here?” she snaps, careful to keep her voice low so as not to draw attention to either of us.

  I consider a quip about it being a free country or how it’s a public library, but I bite back the words, figuring my snark won’t win me any favors. Picking a fight with her won’t help when I try to get her to listen to me, to trust me. I’m already fighting an uphill battle there as it is. “Are you checking out dirty pictures or something? You closed that window pretty fast when you thought someone might be looking.”

  Crystal squirms in her hard plastic chair, but I know it’s not because my accusation is right. If she’s smart—and I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt on this one—the information on her screen is far less salacious and far more interesting. “It’s none of your business,” she mutters, doing her best to pin me with an icy glare.

  Even if she still had magic I wouldn’t feel threatened by her. I get the sense she’s more bluster than action. I fight the part of me that wants to prove just how weak her threats are. I’ve got more important business today. “Maybe not,” I agree. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

 

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