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    The Coven

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    pried my fingers away from my face, and when she did, I saw

      Bree, standing over her, peering at me In alarm, a horrified

      expression on her face.

      I looked at her, trying not to swallow blood. Her mouth

      opened, and silently she said, "I'm sorry." She looked so much

      like her old self for a minute that I almost felt happy. Then all

      of a sudden the shock subsided, and my face was filled with

      pain. "Are you all right?" someone asked.

      "Um " I mumbled, putting my hands up to my nose.

      "Hurts."

      "Okay, Morgan," said Ms. Lew. "Can you stand up? Let's

      get you to my office so we can put some ice on it. I think we'd

      better call your mom." She helped me up and called, "Get back

      to the game, girls. Bettina, get some paper towels and wipe

      that blood up so someone doesn't slip on it Ms. Warren, see me

      in my office after class."

      I cast a last look at Bree as I left Bree looked back at me,

      but suddenly every remnant of friendship or emotion was gone,

      replaced by calculation. It made my heart sink, and tears filled

      my eyes.

      When Mom came to get me, she was still in her work

      clothes. Clucking with worry, she took me to the emergency

      room, where they x-rayed my face. My nose was broken, and

      my lip needed one tiny stitch. Everything was swollen, and I

      looked like a Halloween mask.

      It had come to this, between me and Bree.

      17. The New Coven

      April 14, 1983

      My peas are coming up nicely—I thought I might have put

      them in too early. They're a symbol of my new life: I can't

      believe they're growing on their own so strongly, without

      magickal help. Sometimes the urge to get in tough with the

      Goddess is so strong, I ache with it—it's like a pain, something

      trying to get out. But that part of my life is over, and all I have

      from that time is my name. And Angus.

      We have a new addition to our household: a gray-and-

      white kitten. I've named her Bridget. She's a funny little thing,

      with extra toes on each paw and the biggest purr you ever

      heard. I'm glad to have her.

      --M.R.

      That afternoon, as I lay in bed with an ice pack on my

      face, the doorbell rang. I immediately sensed that it was Cal.

      My heart thumped painfully. I listened as he spoke to my mom.

      I focused my attention, but I could still barely make out their

      words.

      "Well, I don't know," I heard Mom say.

      "For Pete's sake, Mom. I'll stay the whole time and chaperon

      them," said Mary K., much louder. She must have been

      standing right at the bottom of the steps. Then footsteps

      sounded on the stairs. I watched nervously as my door opened.

      Mom came in first, presumably to make sure I was

      properly dressed and not, say, wearing a sexy, see-through

      negligee. In fact, I was wearing stretched-out gray

      sweatpants, an undershirt of my dad's, and a white sweatshirt.

      Mom had helped me wash the blood out of my hair, but I

      hadn't dried it or anything like that It hung loose in long damp

      ropes. Basically, I looked as awful as I had ever looked in my

      life. Cal came into my room, and his presence made it seem

      small and young. Note to self: Redecorate.

      He gave me a big smile and said,"Darling!"

      I couldn't help laughing, though it hurt and I put my hand

      to my face and said,"Ungh—doan make me laugh."

      As soon as Mom saw I was decent she left, even though

      she was obviously uncomfortable about my having a boy in my

      room."Doesn't she look great?" Mary K. said. "Too bad

      Halloween's over. I bet by Thursday everything will be yellow

      and green." I noticed she was holding a white teddy bear

      wearing a heart-shaped bib.

      "For me?" I asked.

      Mary K. shook her head, looking embarrassed. "It's from

      Bakker."

      I nodded. Bakker had been sending flowers and leaving

      notes on our porch all day. He'd called several times, and when

      I had answered the phone, he had apologized to me. I knew

      Mary K. was weakening.

      She perched in my desk chair, and I gave her a look.

      "Don't you have homework?"

      "I promised to chaperon," she objected. Then, seeing my

      expression, she held up her hands. "Okay, okay, I'm going."

      As the door closed behind her I looked at Cal. "I didn't

      want you to see me like this." Because of the swelling in my

      nose, my voice sounded clogged and distant

      His face grew solemn. "Tamara told me about what

      happened. Do you think she did it on purpose?”

      I thought of Bree's face, of the fright in her eyes when

      she saw what she'd done to me.

      “It was an accident,”I said, and he nodded.

      “I brought you some stuff.” He held up a small bag.

      “What?”I asked eagerly.

      “This, for starters,”Cal said, taking out a small potted

      plant. It was silverly gray, with cut, feathery leaves.

      “Artemesia,”I said, recognizing it from one of my herb

      books. “It's pretty.”

      Cal nodded. “Mugwort. A useful plant. Also this,”He

      handed me a small vial/

      I read the label. “Arnica montana.”

      “It's a homeopathic medicine,”Cal explained. “I got it at

      the health-food store. It's for when you're had a traumatic

      injury. It's good for bruises, stuff like that.”He leaned closer.

      "I spelled It to help you heal faster," he whispered. "It's

      Just what the doctor ordered."

      I sank back gratefully on my pillows. "Cool."

      "One more thing," Cal said, taking out a bottle of Yoo-

      Hoo. "I bet you can't eat much, but a Yoo-Hoo can be sucked

      down with a straw. And it's got all the major food groups-dairy,

      fat, chocolate. You could say it's the perfect food."

      I laughed, trying not to move my face. "Thanks. You

      thought of everything."

      Mom called upstairs: "Dinner will be ready in five

      minutes." I rolled my eyes, and Cal smiled. "I can take a hint,"

      he said. He sat carefully on the edge of my bed and took my

      hand in both of his. I swallowed, feeling lost, wanting to hold

      him to me. Muirn beatha dan, I thought

      "Is there anything you want me to do for you?" he asked

      with quiet meaning. I knew he meant Do you want me to get

      back at Bree?

      I shook my head, feeling my face ache. "I don't think so,"

      I whispered. "Let it go."

      He regarded me evenly. "I'll let it go so far and no

      farther," he warned. "This sucks."

      I nodded, feeling very tired.

      "Okay, I'll get going. Call me later if you want to

      talk."

      He stood up. Then he very gently put his hands on my face,

      barely touching me with his fingertips. He closed his eyes and

      muttered words I didn't understand. Closing my eyes, I felt the

      heat from his fingers warm my face. As I breathed in, some of

      the pain dissipated.

      It took less than a minute, then he opened his eyes and

      stepped back. I felt much better.

      "Thanks," I said. "Thanks for coming." "I'll talk to you

      later," he said. Then he turned and
    left my room.

      As I sank back down in bed my face felt lighter, less

      swollen. My head hurt less. I opened the arnica and popped

      four of the tiny sugar pills under my tongue. Then I lay quietly,

      feeling the pain wash out of me.

      That night before I went to sleep, both my black eyes

      were almost gone, the swelling had gone way down, and I felt

      like I could breathe through my nose.

      I stayed home from school the next day, although I

      looked tons better, except for the ugly black stitch on my lip.

      At two-thirty that afternoon I called Mom at work and told

      her I was going over to Tamara's house to pick up some

      homework assignments.

      "Are you sure you feel up to it?" she asked.

      "Yeah, I feel almost fine," I said. "I'll be back before

      dinner."

      "Okay, then. Drive carefully."

      "I will."

      I hung up the phone, got my keys and my coat, put on my

      clogs, and set off toward school. It's pretty much impossible to

      hide a huge white whale like Das Boot, but I parked on a side

      street two blocks away, where I thought I could see Bree's car

      pass as she left school. I could have waited for her at home,

      but I wasn't sure she'd go straight there.

      It wasn't like I had a totally fleshed out plan. Basically I

      was hoping to confront Bree, to hash everything out In the best

      of all possible worlds, it would have a positive result I felt like I

      had reached a breakthrough with my parents, and Mary K. and

      I had bonded again after the Bakker incident Now I wanted to

      get things straight with Bree. The habits of a lifetime aren't

      easy to erase, and I still thought of her as my best friend.

      Hating her was too much to bear. The scene in gym showed

      how desperately we needed to work things out

      But it wasn't only that I had other reasons for wanting to

      mend things between us, too. Magick was clarity. According to

      my books, to work the best magick was to see the most clearly.

      If I lived with an ongoing feud in my life, it could seriously

      hamper my ability to do magick.

      I almost missed Bree's car as it passed the corner at the

      end of the block Quickly I started up mine and crept slowly

      behind her, as far back as I could.

      Luckily Bree headed straight home. I knew the way well

      enough that I could hang back at a great distance, staying

      behind other cars. Once she had pulled into her driveway and

      parked, I pulled over myself at the very end of her block,

      behind a big maroon minivan, and shut off my engine.

      Just as I was about to get out, though, Raven pulled up in

      her battered black Peugeot Bree ran back out of her house.

      I waited. The two girls talked for a while on the sidewalk,

      then headed to Raven's car and got in. Raven roared off,

      leaving a trail of foul exhaust behind her.

      I was nonplussed. This hadn't been in my plan. Right now

      I was supposed to be talking to Bree, possibly arguing with

      her. Raven hadn't figured into it Where were they going?

      A sudden fierce curiosity took hold of me, and I started

      my car again. After four blocks I caught sight of them once

      more.

      They headed north, out of town on Westwood. I followed,

      already suspecting where they were headed.

      When they reached the cornfields at the north of town,

      where our coven had had its first meeting, Raven pulled off

      onto the road's shoulder and parked.

      Slowing, I waited until they had disappeared into the

      recently stripped cornfield, then drove to the other side and hid

      Das Boot under the huge willow oak. Though the branches

      were almost bare, its trunk was thick and the ground dipped

      slightly so that no one casually glancing over would spot my

      car.

      Then I hurried across the road and began to pick my way

      through the crumpled, messy remains of what had been a tall

      field of golden feed corn.

      I couldn't see Raven and Bree ahead of me, but I knew

      where they were going: to the old Methodist cemetery where

      we had celebrated Samhain just ten days ago. Ten days ago,

      when Cal had kissed me in front of the coven and Bree and I

      had become true enemies. It felt like much longer ago than

      that I stepped across the trickling stream and headed uphill

      Into a stand of old hardwood trees. I went more slowly, casting

      my senses, listening for their voices. I didn't really know what

      I was doing and felt kind of like a stalker. But I had been

      wondering about their new coven. I couldn't resist finding out

      what they were up to.

      When I reached the edge of the graveyard, I saw them

      ahead, standing by the stone sarcophagus that had served as

      our altar on Samhain. The two of them stood there, not talking,

      end it came to me: They were waiting for someone.

      I sank down on the damp, cold earth beside an ancient

      tombstone. My race ached a little, and the stitch in my lip was

      itching. I wished I had remembered to take more arnica or

      Tylenol before I left the house.

      Bree rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Raven kept

      pushing back her dyed black hair. They both looked nervous

      and excited.

      Then Bree turned and peered into the shadows. Raven

      grew very still, and my heart beat loudly in the silence.

      The person meeting them was a woman, or rather a girl,

      maybe a couple of years older than Raven. Maybe just a year.

      The more I looked at her, the younger she became.

      She was beautiful in an unusual, otherworldly kind of

      way. Fine blond hair shone starkly against her black leather

      motorcycle jacket, and she had very short, almost white bangs.

      Her cheekbones were high and Nordic, her mouth full and too

      wide for her race. But it was her eyes that seemed so

      compelling, even from far away. They were large and deep set

      and so black that they looked like holes, drawing light in and

      not letting it out again.

      She greeted Bree and Raven so quietly, I couldn't hear the

      murmur of her voice. She seemed to ask them a question, and

      her dark eyes darted here and there like negative spotlights

      raking the area.

      "No, no one followed us," I heard Bree say.

      "No way." Raven laughed. "No one comes out here."

      Still the girl looked around, her eyes flicking again and

      again to the tombstone I hid behind. If she was a witch, she

      might pick up on my presence. Quickly I closed my eyes, trying

      to shut everything down, focusing on becoming invisible, on

      trying to wrinkle the fabric of reality as little as possible. I am

      not here, I sent out into the world. I am not here. There Is

      nothing here. You see nothing, you hear nothing, you feel

      nothing. I repeated this smoothly again and again, and finally

      the three girls started talking again.

      Moving a centimeter at a time, I turned and faced them

      again.

      "Revenge?" the girl said, her voice rich and musical.

      "Yes," said Raven. "You see, there's..."

      A breeze rustled the trees just then, and her words were

    &n
    bsp; lost They were speaking so quietly that it was only by using my

      strongest concentration that I could hear them at all.

      "Dark magic," Raven said, and Bree looked at her with

      troubled eyes.

      "... to wither love," were the next words to float to me on

      the breeze. That was from the girl. I looked at her aura. Next to

      Bree's and Raven's darkness, she was made of pure light

      shining like a sword in the increasing shadows of the

      graveyard.

      "Their circle ... our new coven... a girl with power... Cal...

      Saturday nights, at different places..."

      They talked on, and my frustration grew at not being able

      to hear more. The sun went down quickly, as if a lamp had

      been dimmed, and I started to feel seriously chilly.

      I leaned against the tombstone. What did this mean? They

      had mentioned Cal's name. I figured the "girl with power" was

      me. What were they planning? I had to tell Cal.

      But there was no way to leave without their seeing me, so

      I was stuck on that damp ground, feeling my butt and legs go

      to sleep while my bruised face ached more and more.

      At last, after about forty endless minutes, the girl left

      silently the way she had come, with only her light hair visible

      when she stepped into the darkness beneath the trees. Bree

      and Raven walked back through the graveyard, passing within

      ten feet of me, and headed back out through the cornfield. A

      minute later I heard Raven's car belch and peel off, and two

      minutes after that its exhaust drifted to me on the evening

      breeze.

      I got up and brushed myself off, anxious to get home to

      take a hot, hot shower. The cornfields were now totally dark,

      and I felt weirded out by the creepy scene I had just

      witnessed. At one point I was sure I felt someone's

      concentrated stare on the back of my head, but when I whirled,

      nothing was there. Running back to my car, I jumped in,

      slamming and locking my door after me.

      My hands were so cold and stiff, it took me a second to

      get the key in the ignition, and then I popped on my headlights

      and did a fast U-turn on Westwood. I was scared and irritated,

      and my earlier thoughts of clearing things up with Bree now

      seemed naive, laughable.

      What were they planning? Were they really so angry with

      Cal and me that they would turn to dark magick? They were

      putting themselves in danger, making choices that were stupid

      and shortsighted.

      I swung into my own driveway, shaken and chilled to the

     


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