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    The Coven

    Page 7
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      day, and our dark time seems to be well and truly over.

      Now I'm home, and I lit three green candles to the

      Goddess for prosperity and happiness. There's a full moon

      tonight, so I have to sober up, dress warm, and go gather my

      luibh. The dock root down at the pond is ready for taking in,

      and there's early violets, dandelions, and cattails, too, ready. I

      can't drink any more beer until then, or they'll find me

      facedown in the marsh, too drunk to pick myself up! What a

      day!

      --Bradhadair

      As I drove it occurred to me that there was nowhere to go

      at eight o'clock on a Monday night in Widow's Vale, New York. I

      pictured myself showing up at Schweikhardt's soda shop, on

      Main Street, with tears streaming down my cheeks. I pictured

      myself showing up at Janice's the same way. No-Janice had no

      idea how complicated my life had gotten. Robbie? I considered

      for a second but shook my head. I hated going to his house,

      with his dad drinking beer in front of the TV and his mom ail

      tight-lipped and angry. And of course Bree didn't even enter

      Into it—God, what a bitch she'd been today.

      Cal? I turned and headed toward his neighborhood,

      feeling desperate and daring, brave and terrified. Was I being

      presumptuous by going to his house uninvited? There was so

      much going on in my mind: my birth parents' story, my other

      parents' refusal to tell me the truth about my past, Bree—it was

      all too much to think about I felt like I couldn't make any kind

      of decision about anything—even about whether it was okay for

      me to show up at Cal's house unannounced.

      By the time I pulled into the long, cobblestone driveway

      of Cal's big stone house, I felt completer/ incoherent. What

      was I doing? I just wanted to drive off into the night forever,

      far away from everyone I knew. Be a different person. I

      couldn't believe this was my life.

      I cut the lights and the engine and hunched over my

      steering wheel, literally, frozen with uncertainty. I couldn't

      even start the car again to get out of there.

      Who knows how long I huddled in the darkness outside

      Cal's home. I finally looked up when strong headlights flooded

      the interior of my car, reflecting off my rearview mirror and

      shining into my eyes. An expensive-looking SUV pulled around

      my car and parked neatly, close to the house. Its door opened,

      and a tall, slender woman stepped out her hair barely visible in

      the darkness. The house's outdoor floodlights came on, bathing

      the driveway in warm yellow light. The woman walked to my

      car.

      Feeling like an idiot, I rolled down my window as Selene

      Belltower approached. For long moments she gazed at my face,

      as if evaluating me. We neither smiled nor spoke to each other.

      Finally she said, "Why don't you come inside, Morgan?

      You must be chilled through. I'll make some cocoa." As if It

      was normal to find a girl in a car sitting in the dark outside her

      house.

      I got out of Das Boot and slammed the door. We walked

      up the broad stone steps together, Cal's mom and I, and

      through the massive wooden front door. She led me across the

      foyer, down a hall, into a huge French country-style kitchen I

      hadn't seen on my other visit here.

      “Sit down, Morgan,”she said, gesturing to a ail stool by

      the kitchen island.

      I sat, hoping Cal was here. I hadn't seen his car outside,

      but maybe it was in the garage.

      I cast my senses out, but I couldn't feel his presence close

      by. Selene Belltower's head snapped up as she poured milk into

      a pan. Her brows came together, and she looked at me

      assessingly.

      "You're very strong," she commented. "I didn't learn how

      to cast my senses until I was in my twenties. Cal isn't here, by

      the way.”

      “I'm sorry;'* I said awkwardly. I should go. I don't want

      to bother you....”

      “Your not bothering me,”she said. She spooned some

      cocoa powder into the milk and whisked it smooth on the

      cooktop across from me. "I've been curious. Cal has told me

      some very interesting things about you."

      Cal talked to his mother about me?

      She laughed, a warm, earthy laugh, when she saw the

      expression on my face. "Cal and I are pretty close,” she said

      "For a long time it's been just the two of us. His father left us

      when Cal was about four."

      I'm sorry," I said again* She was speaking to me as If I

      were an adult, and for some reason this made me feel younger

      than sixteen.

      Selene Belltower shrugged "I was sorry, too. Cal missed

      his father very much, but he lives in Europe now, and they

      don't see each other often. At any rate—you shouldn't be

      startled that my son confides in me. It would be silly for him to

      try to hide anything, after all."

      I breathed in, trying to relax. So this was life in a blood-

      witch household. No secrets.

      Cal's mother poured the cocoa into two brightly colored

      hand-painted mugs and handed one to me. It was too hot to

      drink, so I set it down and waited. Selene waved her hand over

      her mug twice, then took a sip.

      'Try this," she suggested, looking up at me. "Take your

      left hand and circle it widdershins over your mug. Say “Cool the

      fire.'" I did, wondering. I felt warmth go into my left hand. "Try

      the cocoa now," she said, watching me. I took a sip. It was

      noticeably cooler, perfect to drink. I grinned, delighted.

      "Left hand takes away," she explained. "Right hand gives.

      Deasil for increasing, widdershins for decreasing. And simple

      words are best"

      I nodded and drank my cocoa. This one small thing was so

      fascinating to me. The idea that I could speak words, make

      movements that cooled a hot drink to the right temperature!

      Selene smiled, and then her eyes focused on mine

      sympathetically. "You look like you've had a rough time."

      This was an understatement, but I nodded. "Has Cal told

      you about... anything?"

      She put her mug down. "He's told me you recently found

      out you were adopted," she said. "That your biological parents

      must be blood witches. And this afternoon he told me you

      thought you were probably the daughter of two Irish witches

      who died here sixteen years ago."

      I nodded again. "Not exactly here—Meshomah Falls.

      About two hours away. I think my mothers name was Maeve

      Riordan."

      Selene's race became grave. "I've heard that story,” the I

      said. "I remember when it happened. I was forty years old; I

      Cal wasn't quite two. I remember thinking that such a I thing

      could never happen to me, my husband, our child.” I Her long

      fingers played with the rim of her mug. “I know better now."

      She looked up at me again. "I'm very sorry this has happened

      to you. It's always somewhat difficult to be different, even if

      you have a lot of support. One is still set apart. But I know you

      must be having an especially hard time."

      My throat
    felt like it was closing again, and I drank my

      cocoa. I didn't trust myself to agree. I distracted myself with

      pointless details: If she had been forty sixteen years ago, she

      would be about fifty-six now. She looked like she was about

      thirty-five.

      "If you want," said Selene, sounding hesitant, “I can help

      you feel better.”

      "What do you mean?" I asked. For a wild moment I

      wondered, Is she offering me drugs?

      "Well, I'm picking up waves of upset, discord,

      unhappiness, anger," she said. "We could make a small, two-

      person circle and try to get you to a better place."

      I caught my breath. I had only ever made a circle with Cal

      and our coven. What would it be like with someone who was

      even more powerful than he was? I found myself saying, "Yes,

      please, if you don't mind."

      Selene smiled, looking very much like Cal. "Come on,

      then.”

      The house was shaped like a U, with a middle part and

      two wings. She led me to the back of the left wing, through a

      very large room that I figured she must use for her coven's

      circles. She opened a door that set into the wall paneling, so

      you could barely see it I felt a thrill of pure, childlike delight

      Secret doors!

      We stepped into a much smaller, cozier room furnished

      only with a narrow table, some bookshelves, and candelabras

      on the walls. Selene lit the candles.

      "This is my private sanctuary," she said, brushing her

      fingers over the doorjamb. For a fleeting moment I saw sigils

      glimmering there. They must be for privacy or protection. But I

      had no idea how to read them. There was so much I needed to

      learn. I was a complete novice.

      Selene had already drawn a small circle on the wooden

      floor, using a reddish powder that gave off a strong, spicy scent

      She motioned me into the circle with her and then closed it

      behind us.

      "Let's sit down," she said. With us facing each other, sitting

      cross-legged on the floor, there was very little room inside the

      circle.We each sprinkled salt around our half of the circle,

      saying,"With this salt, I purify my circle."

      Then Selene closed her eyes and let her head droop, her

      hands on her knees as if doing yoga. "With every breath out,

      release a negative emotion. With every breath in, take in white

      light, healing light, soothing and calming light. Feel it enter

      your fingers, your toes, settle in your stomach, reach up

      through the crown of your head."

      As she spoke her voice became slower, deeper, more

      mesmerizing. My eyes were closed, my chin practically resting

      on my chest I breathed out forcing air completely out of my

      lungs. Then I breathed in, listening to her soothing words.

      "I release tension," she murmured, and I repeated it after

      her without hesitation.

      “I release fear and anger,”she said, her words floating to

      me on a sea of calm. I repeated it and literally felt the knots in

      my stomach begin to uncoil, the tightness in my arms and

      calves unravel.

      “I release uncertainty,”she said, and I followed her.

      We breathed deeply, silently for several minutes. My

      headache dissolved, my temples ceased throbbing, my chest

      expanded, and I could breath more easily.

      “I feel calm,”Selene said.

      “Me too,”I agreed dreamily. I sensed rather than saw her

      smile.“No, say it,”she prompted, humor in her voice/

      “Oh. I feel calm,”I said.

      “Open your eyes. Make this symbol with your right

      hand,”she prompted, drawing in the air with two fingers.

      I watched her, then carefully drew in the air one straight

      line down, then a small triangle attached to the top, like a little

      flag,

      "I feel at peace," she said, drawing the same rune on my

      forehead.

      "I feel at peace," I said, feeling her finger trace heat on

      my skin. The memory of what had happened to my birth

      Barents receded into the distance. I was aware of it, but it had

      less power to hurt me.

      "I am love. I am peace. I am strength."

      I said the words, feeling a delicious warmth flow over me.

      "I call on the strength of the Goddess and the God. I call

      on the power of the Earth Mother" said Selene, tracing another

      rune onto my forehead. This one felt like half of a lopsided

      rectangle, and as it sank into my skin I thought, Strength.

      Selene and I were joined. I could feel her strength inside

      my head, feel her smoothing every wrinkle in my emotions,

      searching out every knot of fear, every snarl of anger. She

      probed deeper and deeper, and languidly I let her. She soothed

      away the pain until I was almost in a trance.

      Ages later, I seemed to come awake again. Unbidden, I

      opened my eyes in time to see her raising her head and

      opening hers. I felt a little groggy and so much better, I

      couldn't help smiling. She smiled back.

      "All right now?" she said softly.

      "Oh, yes," I said, unable to put my feelings into words.

      "Here's one more for you," she said, and she traced two

      triangles, touching, onto the backs of my hands. "That's for

      new beginnings."

      “Thank you," I said, awed by her power. "I feel much

      better."

      "Good." We stood, and she dissolved the circle and blew

      out the candles mounted around the small room. As we passed

      through the larger coven's room I saw a reflection of Selene's

      face in a huge, gilt-frame wall mirror. She was smiling. Her face

      was bright, almost triumphant as she led the way back to the

      foyer. Then the image was gone, and I thought I must have

      imagined it.

      At the front door she patted my arm, and I thanked her

      again. Then I practically floated to my car, not feeling the

      slightest bit of November wind, November chill. I felt

      absolutely perfect all the way home. I didn't even wonder

      where Cal had been.

      10. Split

      August 14, 1981

      The coven over at Much Bencham has three new students,

      they tell us. We have none. Tara and Cliff were the last to join

      Belwicket as students, and that was three years ago. Until

      Lizzie Sims turns fourteen in four years, we have no one. Of

      course, at Much Bencham they take almost anyone who wants

      to study.

      I say we should do the same—if we could even convince

      anyone to join us. Belwicket chose its own path a long time

      ago, and it is not for everyone. But we must expand. If we stick

      to only blood-born, clan-born witches, we will surly die out. We

      must seem out others of our kind, mingle clans. But Ma and the

      elders have shot me down time and again. They want us to

      remain pure. They refuse to let outsiders in.

      Maybe some in Belwicket would rather die.

      --Bradhadair

      When I got home that night, my parents' light was

      already out, and if my car's rumbling engine woke them up,

      they didn't show it Mary K. had waited up for me, listening to

      music in her room. She looked up and took off her headph
    ones

      when I poked my head in.

      "Hi," I said, feeling a deep love for her. After all, she'd

      always been my sister, if not by blood, then by circumstance. I

      regretted hurting her.

      "Where did you go?" she asked.

      "To Cal's. He wasn't there, but I talked to his mom."

      Mary K. paused. "It was awful after you left, I thought

      Mom was going to burst into tears. Everyone was really

      embarrassed."

      "I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "It's just that I can't believe

      Mom and Dad kept this to themselves my whole life. They lied

      to me." I shook my head. "Tonight I realized that Aunt Eileen,

      and our other relatives, and Mom and Dad's friends all know

      I'm adopted. I just felt so stupid for not knowing myself. I was

      just... furious that they never told me when all these other

      people know."

      "Yeah, I hadn't thought of that," said Mary K., frowning

      slightly. "But you're right. They would all know." She looked at

      me." I didn't know. You believe that, don't you?"

      I nodded. "There's no way you'd be able to keep a secret

      like that" I smiled as Mary K. aimed her pillow at me.

      The blanket of peace, forgiveness, and love that Selene

      Belltower had wrapped around over me was still cocooning me

      in its comfortable embrace. "Look, it's going to be pretty awful

      for a while. Mom and Dad have to tell me about my past and

      how I was adopted. I can't stop till I know. But it doesn't mean

      I don't love you or them. We'll get through it somehow," I said.

      Uncertainty played across Mary K.'s pretty face. "Okay,"

      she said, accepting my word.

      "I'm happy about Aunt Eileen and Paula." I said, changing

      the subject.

      "Me too. I didn't want Aunt Eileen to be alone anymore,"

      said Mary K. "Do you think they'll have kids?"

      I laughed. "First things first. They need to live together

      for a while."

      "Yeah. Oh, well. I'm tired." Mary K. took off her

      headphones and dropped them on the floor.

      "Here, let me do this." Reaching over, I gentry traced the

      rune for comfort on her forehead, the way Selene had showed

      me. I felt the warmth leave my fingertips and stood back to see

      Mary K. looking at me unhappily.

      “Please don't do that to me,”she whispered. “I don't want

      to be part of it.”

      Stung, I blinked, then nodded. "Yeah, sure," I mumbled I

      turned and fled to my own room, feeling dismayed. Something

      that had given me joy was only upsetting to my sister. It was a

     


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