Eclipse - Кейт Тирнан 2 стр.

Now I was surrounded by stacks, and in the fifth bag I found some interesting older books about weatherworking and animal magick. There were a couple of old Books of Shadows, too, handwritten, filled with writing and diagrams. One looked quite old: the writing was spiky, from a fountain pen, and the pages were deep tan with age. Another book looked newer and also less interesting: fewer drawings and long periods of no writing. There was another BOS, in a green-cloth-bound diary. It looked much newer and less romantic than the others, but I flipped through it. It was written by a witch during the seventies! So cool. Most recent Books of Shadows are still in the possession of their owners.This was unusual, and I started reading it.

Morgan, shall we? Hunter asked a few minutes later.

I nodded. I sorted your books, I told Alyce, gesturing to my piles.

Oh, how nice! she said, clasping her hands together. Shes shorter than I am and rounded in an old-fashioned womanly way. She looked like a youngish grandmother from a fairy-tale book, all in gray and lavender and purple.

This one is great, I said, holding up the one Id been reading. Its from the seventies. Are you going to sell these books? Maybe I could buy it.

Oh, please. Alyce waved her hands at me. Take it, its yours. Consider it payment for sorting all these bags.

Thanks, I said, smiling. I appreciate it. Thanks a lot.

Come back soon, she said.

In the car Hunter and I looked at each other. I felt a tiny smile cross my lips.

I think I need to work on convincing you of my undying love, Hunter said mischievously, reading my expression. Lets see. I could cast a spell that would write your name in the clouds. Or I could take you out for a nice mealor we could go to my house and fool around on my bed. You know, as practice before we do the real thing.

Is your dad at your house? I asked. Hunter and I had both wanted to make love for what seemed like a very long time. But the last time it came up, right before he left for Canada, Hunter had decided that we should wait. It was important to both of us for it to be just rightbut who knew when that would ever happen?

No. Todays hes at Bethanys, said Hunter. Shes been doing some deep healing work with him.

My eyes lit up.Oh, yeah, lets go to your house!

2. Alisa

Its okay, Alisa, said my friend Mary K. Rowlands on Monday afternoon. Youre not a guy. You can come in.

I laughed and followed her into the living room. Both of Mary K.s parents worked, and she and her sister, Morgan, werent allowed to have boys over when their parents werent there. It was so funnyalmost antique. But her folks are really Catholic and keep Mary K. and Morgan on pretty tight leashes.

Lets hang in the kitchen, Mary K. called over her shoulder.

Thats where the food is, I agreed.

Everything about the Rowlandses house looks like it got frozen in about 1985. The living room is done in hunter green plaids with maroon accents. The kitchen is dusty blue and dusty pink, with a goose theme. Its corny, but oddly comforting. Now that my evil stepmother-to-be was madly redecorating the house I shared with my dad, I really appreciated anything familiar.

I dumped my messenger bag on the wood-grained Formica table while Mary K. rustled through the fridge and the pantry. She surfaced with a couple of bottles of Frappuccino, some apples, and a big bag of peanut M&Ms.

I nodded my approval. I see youve covered all the major food groups.

She grinned.We aim to please.

We settled down at the kitchen table with our food and our textbooks open. I had been going to Mary K.s pretty often after school latelyI guess to avoid going homeand Mary K. was really cool. A good friend. She seemed so normal and kind of reassuring somehow, especially compared to Morgan. Morgan had done a lot to weird me out in the past. I still wasnt sure what to make of her.

Alisa? Mary K. said, twirling a strand of hair around one finger as she frowned at her math book. Do you have any idea what the difference is between real and natural numbers?

No, I said, and took a swig of Frappuccino. Hey, did Mark ask you out for Friday?

No, she said, looking disappointed. Shed been crushing on Mark Chambers for weeks now, but though he was really nice to her, he didnt seem to be picking up on her date me vibes. But its only Monday. Maybe I could ask him, if he hasnt asked me by Thursday.

You go, Mary K. Fight the system. I smiled, encouraging her. Then I sighed, thinking about my own romantic possibilities. God, I wish I had a crush on someone. Or someone had a crush on me. Anything to break up the delirious joy of being around my dad and Hilary.

Mary K. made a sympathetic face.Hows the Hiliminator?

I shrugged, my shoulders rising and falling dramatically. Well, shes still with us, I reported dryly, and Mary K. laughed. My dads pregnant girlfriend had recently moved into our house, and now she was already pooching out in front, before they were actually getting hitched. I couldnt believe my straitlaced, ultraconservative dad had gotten himself into this nightmare. It was like living with a couple of strangers. But shes quit barfing, which is good. Every time I had to listen to her hurl, I got the dry heaves.

Maybe the baby will be incredibly cute, and youll be a great big sister, and when she grows up, you guys will be really close, Mary K. suggested. She couldnt help it: she was born to pour sunshine on other people. It was one of the things I loved about her.

Yeah, I allowed. Or maybe itll be a boy, and when Im forced to change his diaper, hell pee right in my face.

Oh, gross! Mary K. shrieked, and we both started laughing. Alisa, that is so, so gross. If he ever does that, do not tell me about it.

Anyway, I said with a giggle, Ive been suggesting names. If its a girl, Alisa Junior. If its a boy, Aliso.

We were still laughing about that one when the back door opened and Morgan came in. She smiled when she saw us, and I made myself smile back. It wasnt that I didnt like Morgan. It was mostly that I thought she was kind of dangerouseven though she could be nice and thoughtful sometimes. Morgan is a witch, a real witch. Some kids around here arethey call themselves blood witches because theyre born to it, like having blue eyes or bad skin. Mary K. isnt, because though they are sisters, Morgan was adopted.

Morgan and some other kids from my high school (Mary K. is a freshman, Im a sophomore, and Morgan is a junior) even have their own coven, called Kithic. I had been to circles with Kithic and had thought they were so... incredible. Special. Natural, somehow. But I had quit going a while back when Morgan had started making scary things happen, like breaking things without touching them. Like that girl in Carrie. And I saw her make crackling blue energy on her hand once. Mary K. had even told me (in total secret) that she thought Morgan had done something magicky when their aunts girlfriend had cracked her head open at an ice rink. Mary K. said that Paula had looked like she was really hurt, and everyone was freaking, but Morgan put her hands on her and fixed her. I mean, how scary is that? It wasnt anything I wanted to be around.

Youngsters, Morgan greeted us with a snobby nod. But she was just kiddingshe and Mary K. get along really well.

You know, Morgan, Mary K. said with an innocent expression, Im the same age younger than you as you are from Hunter. Isnt that funny? No one can look more wide-eyed and who-me? than Mary K.

Morgan dropped her backpack on the kitchen table with a heavy thud and gave Mary K. a poisonous lookthen they both laughed. I wished I had a sisterno, not one fifteen years younger than me, but a real one, whom I could talk to and hang out with, who could join forces with me against my wicked stepmonster-to-be.

Studying, are we? Morgan asked.

We are, said Mary K. Trying to, at least.

Morgan reached into the fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke. She popped the top and drank, leaning against the counter. Hilary had banished sodas from our housewe were all supposed to eat more healthily than thatand I found myself watching Morgan with envy. I almost wanted to have a soda here just because I could, even though I hate Diet Coke. Morgan set down the can, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and breathed out. Shed gotten her fix.

You know, watching you do that makes me feel... tainted somehow, Mary K. observed, and Morgan laughed again.

Natures perfect food, she said, then got some hamburger out of the fridge and pulled out a big frying pan. When the fridge door shut again, a small gray cat streaked into the room and stood around mewing.

He heard the fridge, Mary K. said.

Hey, Dag, sweetie, Morgan said, bending down to give him a tiny bit of hamburger. The kitten mewed loudly again, then chowed down, purring hard.

Are we having tacos? Mary K. asked.

Burritos. Morgan opened the package and dumped the meat into the pan.

The Hiliminator cant stand the smell of meat lately, I said, feeling a thin new layer of irritation settle over me. Or fried food. Or spicy food. It makes her sick. Were down to like three acceptable food items at my house: bread, rice, and crackers.

Morgan nodded as sympathetically as Mary K. had. You can come over here and eat real food whenever you want.

Thanks, I said. So youre going to ask Mark out? I asked Mary K.

I guess, said Mary K.

Hes cute, said Morgan. She put a cutting board on the table, elbowing her backpack out of the way. The top hadnt been fastened tight, and a couple of books and notebooks spilled out. I glanced at them as she pushed the bag aside and set a block of cheddar cheese on the board, along with a grater. Grate, she told Mary K.

Im doing my homework, Mary K. pointed out.

Youre talking about cute guys. Grate.

The books in Morgans backpack caught my eye. One was an advanced calc book; then there were two spiral notebooks with doodles on the covers, and another, green-covered book, like an old-fashioned diary, peeped out from underneath those.

Oh, did you notice Moms crocuses out front? Morgan asked, rolling up her sleeves. As usual, she looked like Morgan of the Mounties, in a plaid flannel shirt, worn jeans, and clogs. Somehow it looked okay on her. If I wore that, I would look like a truck driver.

Mary K. shook her head, busily grating.What about em?

Theyre dying, dead, said Morgan. She pulled her long brown hair out of the way, braided it in back of her head, and snapped an elastic on the end. They only started blooming last week, cause its been so cold. The crocuses were up and the hyacinths were starting to to poke outnow theyre all brown lumps.

It hasnt frozen lately, has it? Mary K. asked.

Morgan shook her head. Moms going to be bummed when she sees it. Maybe they have some kind of disease. She started slicing a head of lettuce, making long strips suitable for burritoing.

Hmmm, said Mary K.

I was listening to all this with only one ear because I just couldnt stop looking at Morgans books. Not books, really. Book. It was freaky, but I was just dying to know what that green book was. I couldnt think about anything else until I figured it out. I didnt even know I was reaching for it when I finally realized Mary K. had been saying, Alisa? Alisa?

Oh, what? Sorry, I said as Morgan turned around from the stove.

I was saying that if you liked someone, too, then maybe we could all go out, the four of us, and then it wouldnt be so weird for me and Mark, she repeated.

Oh. The words barely even registered. All I could think was green book, green book, green book. What was wrong with me? I tried to shake it off. Um, well, I dont really like anyone. And no one likes me, I admitted. I mean, people like me, but no guys specifically like me.

Mary K. frowned.Why not? Youre such a cutie.

I laughed. I knew I wasnt hideousmy dad is Hispanic, and I have his dark eyes and olive skin. My mom was Anglo, so my hair is a honey-streaked brown. Im kind of different looking, but I dont make babies scream. But so far my sophomore year at Widows Vale High had been a total bust, guys-wise. I dont know.

Morgan, do you know any guys, like friends of friends, that maybe we could set something up with? Mary K. went on, and my mind and eyes wandered again to the stupid green book. What was it? I wanted to know. I needed to know. I shook my head silently, wondering what was going on. Why was I being so weird? It was like this crazy green book was invading my mind. Was this a temporary thing, or was it going to last? Years from now, was I going to be sitting in a padded cell somewhere, babbling, Green book, green book, green book? It was probably just some horrible extra-credit calc or something.

Thats a cool book, I heard Morgan say, and my head snapped up to see her and Mary K. both looking at me. I jerked back my hand, realizing with embarrassment that I had been reaching for the book again. What was with me? Its a Book of Shadows, Morgan explained, glancing at Mary K., who seemed to take no notice. I just got it today at Practical Magick.

I frowned and put both my hands in my lap. Magick. So it was a witch book. Well, that oughta cure me. Id had enough freaky encounters with witchy thingsand witchy people.

Oh, dang! Morgan said, turning around with irritation. I forgot the stupid flavor packet! Well, Im not going back to the store.

As she stood, frowning, the refrigerator door swung open. A glass butter dish, complete with butter, crashed to the ground, shattering. We all stared at it.

Was that propped on something in there? Mary K. asked.

It was in the butter thing on the door, Morgan said, frowning even more.

I jumped up almost without realizing it. Oh, God, not again, I thought as horror filled my veins. Morgan just could not control her powers! She was a walking hazard! I had to get away from her. I hated this kind of stuff. True, this was just a broken butter dish, but Id seen far worse happen before. Who knew what would happen next? What if she made knives start flying around or something?

Did you not close the door? Mary K. persisted. Morgan sighed and tiptoed to the broom closet, taking out a broom and a dustpan. Morgan with a broom, I thought. How appropriate.

No, I closed it. Morgan sounded fed up. I dont know what happened.

Uh-huh. And my mom is Queen Elizabeth, I thought.

Morgan scowled down at the broken dish as if she could reconstruct it with her eyes and make it all rush backward and mend itself, like in the movies. Actually, maybe she could. I didnt know.

I didnt she began, and then her head lifted. Hunter, she said. Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she walked out the kitchen door, leaving hamburger sizzling on the stove, a broken butter dish (that she had broken) right there on the floor. A moment later we heard the front door open and shut.

What about Hunter? I said.

Mary K. looked a little uncomfortable as she used a paper towel to pick up the glass-encrusted butter and put it in the trash. Hunters here, I guess.

Did you hear his car? I didnt even know why I was asking. I knew the answer. It was Morgan, Morgan the witch, Morgan and her freaky powers. Shed heard Hunter coming with her superpowerful witchy ears.

Mary K. shrugged and began to sweep up glass. I stood up and turned off the fire under the hamburger, giving the meat a quick stir. Without meaning to, I glanced at the table and was immediately drawn again to the green book. What was it about that book?

3. Morgan

You dont look like a happy camper, I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Id come out without a jacket as soon as Id felt Hunters presence. The thing with the butter dish had totally thrown mewed never figured out why the weird telekinetic stuff happened. I was afraid that it might be a sign from Ciaran, just to let me know he was watching. Im glad youre heresomething weird just happened

I just came from a meeting with the council, Hunter uncharacteristically interrupted me. Kennet flew in yesterday, which is why I couldnt get hold of him. They called me this morning.

What was it about? Did you find out anything about Ciaran?

Yes. Hunter seemed tightly coiled, like a snake, and I felt anger coming off him in heated waves. He strode past my mothers crumpled crocuses and up onto the porch. I did. He reached out to enfold me in his arms. Apparently Ciaran dismantled the watch sigil two weeks ago. He hasnt been seen since.

I pulled back and stared at him. Two weeks ago? I choked out. Oh, Goddess. Oh, no. My father could in fact be hiding under my front porch right now. I went rigid with fear. He could have been watching me for almost two weeks now. Goddess, I whispered. And the council didnt share this because...?

He shook his head, looking disgusted. They have no good reason. They said it was on a need to know basis. Why they didnt think you or I needed to know is a complete mystery. I think theyre just embarrassed that hes slipped through their fingers again. Obviously they should have taken him in before now and stripped his powers. But they were hoping he would lead them to other cells of Amyranth. Now hes gone.

The image of Ciaran having his powers stripped was disturbingId seen it happen before, and it was horrifying. But the image of Ciaran coming after me with full powersmaybe being in Widows Vale right nowwas much, much worse.

I cant believe it, I said, feeling anger rise in me like acid. Who the hell do they think they are? I dont need to know my own father is free? When Im the one who put the watch sigil on him?

Hunter nodded grimly. Too right. I dont know what theyre doing. The council was never intended to be able to act with impunity. They seem to have forgotten that, and that they have a responsibility and an obligation to the witches they represent. Not to mention their own fellow council members.

I cant believe it, I said again. Those asses. So we can assume that Ciaran is around here somewhere. I thought about it. I havent picked up on anything, except the vision.

Nor I. But I think we can guess hes coming to at least talk to you, like he said.

What should we do? What are you going to do?

We need to be incredibly vigilant and on guard, he said. Im going to demand that the council take some responsibility for once, take some real action. In the meantime, your house and car are about as protected as I know how.

I closed my eyes. I had liked Eoife, the council witch I knew the best, but I was outraged that they had bungled this so badly and hadnt bothered to tell me. Surely they knew that I would be in danger. What had they been thinking?

The council Hunter began, then stopped abruptly, clearly as upset as I was. Its like theyre falling apart, with certain factions acting without the knowledge or approval of the others. When it was first formed, they had strong witches at the head. Nowadays the whole thing is being run, and badly, by a witch named Cynthia Pratt. She doesnt seem to have a handle on anything.

Great. So now what?

I dont know, he admitted. I have to think about it. But maybe we should try scrying again, see if we can pick up on anything about Ciaran at all. He glanced over my shoulder. Can I come in?

My parents would be home from work soon. I had to finish getting dinner together. I glanced at my watch. I have maybe ten minutes, max, I said. But if my mom or dad comes home early, youll have to get yourself out of here without them seeing.

He nodded, and I opened the front door, almost hitting Alisa, who was on her way out. She shot me a startled glance and clutched her messenger bag tighter to her chest. With a jolt I remembered the broken butter dish and sighed. Given the way Alisa was eyeing me, she thought Id done my Blair Witch act. It was unfortunate that these things often seemed to happen when she was around.

Hi, Alisa, Hunter said absently, stepping aside to let her pass. Hope youre feeling better. Alisa had been hospitalized about a month ago for some kind of flu, but she seemed fine now.

Thanks, Alisa muttered; then she scuttled past us on the porch and went down the stairs. I watched her for a moment; then Hunter and I entered the warmth of my house.

In my room, where the only male creatures allowed were my father and Dagda, Hunter and I sat on my woven grass rug and lit a candle. We surrounded it with protective stones: agate, jade, malachite, moonstone, olivine, a pearl, black tourmaline, a chunk of rock salt, and a pale brown topaz. We linked hands, touched knees, and looked into the candle. I knew we had only minutes, so I concentrated hard and ruthlessly shut out any extraneous thoughts. Ciaran, I thought. Ciaran. Hunters power blended with mine, and we both focused our energy on the candle. The glow of the candle filled my eyes until it seemed that the whole room around me was glowing. Slowly a figure began to emerge, black, from the glow. My heart quickened, and I waited for Ciarans face to become recognizable. But when the glow faded a bit, it revealed revealed instead a woman or a girlher back was to me. She raised one arm and wrote sigils in the air. I didnt recognize them. I got the impression she was working magick, powerful magick, but I didnt know what kind. Who are you? I thought. Why am I seeing you? As if in answer, the girl started turning to face me. But before I saw her features, a great, rolling wave of fire swept toward her. She crumpled underneath it, and the fire swept on. I waited to see the twisted and charred body left behind, but before I could, the image winked out, as if someone had turned off a slide projector.

I sat back, disappointed and confused.

What I saw didnt make sense, Hunter said finally, blowing out the candle.

It didnt to me, either, I said. I didnt see Ciaran at alljust a girl and a fire.

What does it mean? he asked in frustration, and then we heard a gentle tap on the door.

Mom just pulled up, Mary K. said quietly.

Quickly I put the candle away and Hunter slipped back into his jacket. I opened my bedroom door.

Thanks, I told my sister.

She looked at me pointedly. I got dinner together for you. I cleaned up the broken glass. And now Ive told you moms home so your ass wont be in a sling.

Oh, Mary K., I said gratefully. Thank you. I owe you one.

You sure do, she agreed, and I followed her down the stairs.

Be careful, I heard Hunter barely breathe in back of me, and I nodded. Then my mom was in the living room, and I went to the kitchen to finish dinner, and soon after that my dad came home. I never heard Hunter leave, but half an hour later I remembered to glance out the window, and of course his car was gone. It made me feel incredibly alone.

4. Alisa

This is it, I thought, staring at the green book that lay before me on my bed. This is the beginning of my complete and total slide toward hell. Now I am a thief.

I had never stolen anything in my life, yet when I saw that stupid green book of Morgans, I had been taken over by my evil twin. My stupid evil twin. Only the three of us were in their kitchen. If Morgan noticed the book was gone, shed ask Mary K. Mary K. wouldnt know, and by a lightning-swift process of elimination, one name would come up: Alisa Soto. Sticky Fingers Soto. Which is why Id pretty much avoided both of them at school today. But neither of them had acted funny when Id seen them, so maybe Morgan hadnt missed the book yet.

The only thing I had going for me was that Dad was at work, of course, and Hilary must be at her Mama Yoga class since it was Tuesday. Yay. I had no witnesses to my crime.

It was hardno, impossibleto explain. But when I had seen that book fall out of Morgans backpack, it was like it was my book that I had lost a long time ago, and here it was. So I took it back.

Just in case Hilary popped in anytime soon, I locked my bedroom door. I felt strangemaybe some of Morgans weirdness was rubbing off on me. I almost felt like I was dreamingwatching myself do stuff without knowing why.

I ran my fingers over the cloth cover and felt a very faint tingle. I flipped open the cover, and the first thing I saw was a handwritten name. My eyes widenedit was Sarah Curtis, which was my own mothers maiden name! Oh my God, I whispered, not believing what I was seeing. Was this why I had been so drawn to it?

I began to read. It was a diary, a journal, that Sarah started keeping in 1968, when she was fifteen, my age. Flipping through to the back, I saw that the book ended in 1971. I leaned back against my pillows and pulled my grandmothers flowery crocheted afghan over my feet. Ever since Hilary had moved in, our thermostat had been set to Ice Age.

From the very first page I was totally hooked, but the book only got stranger. My jaw dropped by the second page, when I saw that Sarah Curtis lived in Gloucester, Massachusettsjust like my mom. How many Curtises could there be in one Massachusetts town? Maybe a lot. Maybe Curtises had lived there so long the name was really common. But if it wasnt, what did that mean? Could I be sitting here reading my moms diary? It was impossible! I had gotten this book from Morgan! Then a chill went down my spine: Morgan had said this was a witch book. My eyes opened wider, and the back of my neck tightened.

On Saturday will be the annual Blessing of the fleet. Its funny how today people still rely on the old traditions. Mom says the fleet has been blessed every year for over a hundrend years. Of course, its the Catholics who run it and make the big show. But I know that Roiseal always does are part as well.

I stopped for a moment. Ròiseal? The Blessing of the Fleet I had heard abouta lot of fishing communities have it every year, where the priest comes out and sprinkles holy water on the bows of the fishing boats to protect them through the year and give them luck.

Sam and I went down to Filberts today and got some orange soda pop. Mom would kill us if she knew. Mom and her whole food, natural food stuff. She thinks artificial flavours and taste are enough to dull your sense and abilities. I havent noticed any difference.

Whoa, I thought. And I thought Hilary was bad, with her organic toilet paper. I mean, she thought sodas werent good for you, but I didnt think she actually believed they would dull your senses. A glimmer of a memory went through my head, of my mom saying something to me, telling me a story about when she was a little girl. About how funny her mom had been about some stuff. But the memory was too vague to really remembermaybe I was getting mixed up. After all, my mom had died when I was three. This was an amazing coincidence, though. If it was a coincidence, a scared little voice inside me whispered.

I am still trying to talk Mom and Dad into an out-of-state college. I figure I have another three years to work on themwho knows what could happen? They just dont want me mixing with people who arent like uslike if I meet different people, Ill leave and not come back.

I frowned as I remembered Dad telling me about how Moms parents hadnt wanted her to go away to college, either. Oh, Godwhat did this mean? This couldnt just be a coincidence. But how was it possibleGod! As if mesmerized, I turned back to the book for answers.

The lilacs have been blooming for a couple of weeks now. When I go outside, the damp salt of the sea is overlain with their gorgeous, heavy perfume. Moms bushes are covered with bees in ecstasy. Seeing the lilacs in bloom breaks me out of my northeast winter blues every year. I know that warm weather is coming, that summer is almost here, that school will be out soon.