Strife

  “You do realize, Morgan, that junior-year grades are what most colleges look at when they are determining admissions, ” Mr. Powell went on. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to let your parents know about this.”

  Oh, no. “Is there anything I can do?” I asked. “Some extra credit or something?” Mr. Powell thought for a moment. “I don’t like to give one person a shot at extra credit without giving the whole class the same chance,” he said slowly.

  “I’m sure other people would like to bring up their grades,” I suggested. Mr. Powell sighed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll announce it to the class tomorrow. Write a five- to eight-page paper on any historical subject for a maximum of twenty extra points on the next exam.”

  I stifled a groan. Twenty points. That didn’t sound like much. But when I did the average in my head along with two other perfect exams, I realized I could end up with an eighty-three average for the marking period—a B. It would be tough, but I could do it. “Thanks, Mr. Powell,” I said quickly, and turned toward the door.

  “Morgan,” he called after me.

  “Yes?” I paused in the doorway.

  He looked at me over the tops of his bifocals. “Make it good,” he said. “Did you talk to Robbie?” I asked Bree as we walked out of English. It was our last class. I hadn’t seen her or Robbie all day, except from a distance—neither one of them was at the usual spot in the morning or at lunch, either. Bree hugged her notebooks to her chest. “No,” she admitted. She was wearing a long black leather skirt and a woolly black sweater with a plunging neckline, and it made her look mysterious and a little sad.

  I wasn’t all that surprised. Bree hated “relationship” talks. “Why not?” “To be honest, Robbie was pretty freaked out by the circle on Saturday,” Bree said. “Yesterday didn’t really seem like the best time for a chat, you know?” “Bree, you need to talk to him,” I said. “I know, I know.” Bree hesitated, her dark eyes clouding over. “Actually,” she said finally, “I think maybeyoushould talk to Robbie. That scene at the circle scared the crap out of him. God, Morgan, it scared the crap out of everyone. Me too.” “But that wasn’tme,” I insisted. “It scared me, too.” We stood there in the hall for a moment, just staring at each other as students streamed past us. I had no idea what to say. Finally Bree reached out and grabbed my hand. “Look, Morgan. If you say it wasn’t you, then I believe it. I’ll talk to Robbie for you. But you should know that he’s worried about you, and so am I.” To my dismay, her eyes filled with tears. Bree wasn’t a big weeper. “We’re friends, right?”

  I swallowed hard. “Right.”

  “Okay.” Bree gave me a watery smile. “I’ll talk to him. About both things.” She dropped my hand and turned toward her locker. I trudged to mine, silently cursing these strange things that kept happening. I was as afraid of them as everyone else. Yet everyone thought I was behind them.

  Standing in front of my locker, I felt a faint, icy breeze blow past me. The small hairs at the back of my neck rose. Had anyone else felt it? To my right, I saw Cindy Halpern struggling with her locker combination. Maybe it was just my imagination. I spun the lock and yanked on my locker door. It swung open with a bang. I jumped back to avoid the avalanche of books and papers that cascaded out. “God, Morgan,” Cindy said, rolling her eyes at the mess, “get a Trapper Keeper.” I ignored her. My instincts were clamoring. It was true that my locker was a royal disaster, but the way my stuff had shot out of it . . . I peered down the hall to see if other strange things were happening, but all I saw was students shoving books into backpacks and pulling on jackets. I cast my senses, but I didn’t sense any sort of sinister presence. Frowning, I eyed the mess on the

  floor. Maybe it really was just the result of a locker that hadn’t been cleaned out in a while. I

  bent and started gathering papers.

  “Need some help?” asked a voice behind me. I glanced up as Alisa crouched and began stacking my books. “This looks like the bottom of my dad’s closet,” she said. Her voice was heavy, and she seemed tired. I stopped gathering my papers and looked at her. “Are you okay?” I asked. Alisa frowned. “Actually, no,” she said. “I—I wanted to tell you . . . I’m leaving the coven.” I was so surprised, I sat down on the floor. “You are?” I asked. The image of Bree with tears in her eyes, telling me that Robbie was worried about me, clicked into my brain. “Why?” I asked carefully.

  Alisa ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her oval face. “Things are just going too far for me.” She looked down at the floor, then up at me. “The magick I’ve seen lately . . . it scares me. These are powerful forces, Morgan.” She leaned toward me until I could see myself reflected in her eyes. “They’re dangerous.” I got the feeling that Alisa wanted me to promise that nothing frightening would happen at a circle again. But I couldn’t. I didn’t have any idea what had caused the strange magick on Saturday—and I certainly didn’t have any control over it. “I’m sorry, Alisa,” I said finally. “I guess you have to do what’s right for you.” Alisa looked at me a moment and then nodded. “Okay. But I just wanted to tell you . . . I have a bad feeling. The magick you’ve been practicing is bad for everyone. I’m talking about the whole coven,” she said in a low voice. “I think you should stop what you’re doing. Be careful, Morgan.”

  “Yeah, Morgan, be careful,” said a voice above us. It was Mary K., her book bag slung over one shoulder. I tried to read the expression on my sister’s face. Mary K. and I hadn’t had a real conversation since the night of Hunter’s dinner, but I’d felt that she was softening toward me a bit—and now she was obviously here so I would give her a ride home. I hoped she hadn’t overheard anything just now that would freak her out again. “What does Morgan have to be careful about?” Mary K. asked Alisa. I waited nervously. Alisa glanced at me, then picked up a pile of my books. “She has to be careful not to get buried in this pile of crap,” Alisa said as she slid my books into place on the shelf. “I was just recommending that Morgan wear bright-colored clothing so we can find her if she gets hidden in the next locker paper slide.” I gathered the rest of my papers and scrambled to my feet. “Just a second, Mary K.,” I said. “Let me find what I need. I’ll be ready to roll in a minute.” “Actually,” Mary K. said, “I’m here for Alisa. We’re going over to her house to study.” She turned to Alisa. “Ready?”

  “Sure,” Alisa replied. “See you around, Morgan,” she said over her shoulder as she turned to walk down the hall.

  “See you later,” Mary K. added, giving me a small wave. “I called Mom already—I won’t be home for dinner.” She trotted after Alisa. “Okay,” I said. “See you.” Watching their retreating figures, I couldn’t help feeling a little stab of jealousy . . . and fear. Sure, Alisa had just covered for me now—but what if later she told Mary K. that the coven was dealing with powerful forces? What if she described what had happened on Saturday night?

  Would my sister turn against me even more?

  Restricted

  The bell over the door at Practical Magick jingled as I walked inside. Closing the door quickly against the cold, I breathed in the warm spicy scent of incense and the familiar smell of old books. Alyce looked up at me from behind the counter, and her face instantly broke into a smile. “Morgan,” she said, “you’ve got a visitor.”There were two other people in the store, browsing through the herbs. “Is she here already?” I

  whispered as I walked to the counter.

  Alyce nodded gravely. “In the back.”

  I grimaced. That meant I was late. “Thanks.” I hurried past the tall wooden bookshelves toward the curtain that separated the rear of the store. I was irked that I couldn’t stop to chat with Alyce. Besides being the owner of Practical Magick, she was the leader of the Starlocket coven and a good friend. We’d been through a lot together these last few months. “You’re late,” Erin said coolly as I pulled back the curtain and stepped into the combination storeroom-office.

  “So I heard,” I replied, slidin
g into the folding chair across from hers. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and wasn’t in the best of moods. Erin’s eyes flashed. “Morgan, I am here at the behest of the council. I’ve traveled a long way to get here,” she said. “And I’ve got less than two weeks to teach you everything I know about magickal defenses.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled to the table. Okay, so I was late. Was that the world’s biggest tragedy? Did she have to treat me like a five-year-old? It was bad enough that the reason I was late was that my English teacher had grabbed me on my way out of school and lectured me for twenty minutes about how I wasn’t "working up to potential.” Erin leaned forward, and I felt compelled to look up at her. “There are some members of the council who put a great deal of stock in your powers,” she said in a voice that sounded almost like a purr or a growl. “But let me tell you something—those powers will never be anything but a dangerous toy until you learn to control them.” There was half a moment while we stared at each other, and I felt Erin’s intensity like heat from a fire.

  “Here we are!” said a voice. Suddenly the curtain was pulled back, and Alyce bustled in with a teapot and mugs. She glanced at Erin. “Licorice still your favorite?” I looked from one to the other. “Do you two know each other already?” I asked. “Of course,” Alyce said. “We’ve been friends for years.” I tried to hide my surprise. They were friends? But they were such opposites—Erin seemed as hard as steel, while Alyce was about as hard as a featherbed. “We haven’t seen each other in a long time, though,” Erin said, smiling at Alyce. “Too long,” Alyce said. “Which reminds me. I’ve been saving something for you.” Pulling a key ring out of her pocket, she crossed to a heavy wooden desk at the back of the room. She opened one of the drawers and pulled out a large gray metal box. Then she chose another key, opened the box, and pulled out something large and flat and wrapped in a piece of dark cloth. When she came closer, I saw that it was a square of black silk. My pulse quickened. Black silk had strong blocking properties—it was often used to wrap magickal objects that might be dangerous. Alyce put the object on the table, then pulled the fabric away from it, revealing an ancient leather-bound book.

  “Where did you get this?” Erin whispered. She’d gone pale. “At a library sale, if you can believe it,” Alyce said. “About a year ago. I don’t think they had any idea what they were selling.”

  I read the faded gold lettering on the cover.On the Containement of Magick,it said. “Harris Stoughton,” I said aloud, looking at the author’s name. It sounded vaguely familiar to me. “A horrible man,” Erin said. “A witch who used hysteria to wipe out other witches.” When she said that, I remembered where I’d heard the name before—from some of my reading

  on the Salem witch trials. I hadn’t read anything about his being a witch, though.

  “I thought that you should have it,” Alyce said to Erin. “I don’t like keeping it here, but I don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands, either.” Erin flipped through a few of the pages warily, as if the book were something dangerous, then snapped the cover closed. “It’s a rare book.” Looking up at Alyce, she added, “Thank you. A book like this can be dangerous, but it can also be useful.” Erin faced me. “The first rule of magickal defenses is ‘Know your enemy.’ ” The bell over the front door jingled, and Alyce went to see to the customers. Erin pushed herself up from the table and walked over to the curtain. Tracing her fingers around its edges, she muttered a harsh-sounding phrase. “Now no one will be able to hear us,” she explained when she saw my confused expression. “Ready?” I stood up and followed her to the center of the room. We faced each other for a moment. In a flash Erin caught my wrist, and I felt a crackle of electricity ripple through me. But I had been expecting this move. Quickly I threw up a block, as Hunter had taught me. Instead of building, the energy quickly dissipated through my body. Where she held my wrist, I felt the energy die in Erin’s hand as well.

  Erin stepped back. “That was good,” she said simply. “You know thedivagnth. And you’re strong.”

  Damn straight, I thought, feeling a rush of pride. Erin took a step away from me. I took in her small form. I stood at least a full head taller than her. I felt great— strangely strong, physically powerful, as if I’d been pumping iron or something. Weird, I thought. But very cool. “Things are not always as they appear,” Erin said. As I stood wondering what that meant, she suddenly seemed to grow taller. Her mouth elongated, and she smiled, revealing long sharp fangs, each as thick as my finger. I felt my pride evaporate as her shoulders broadened and her green eyes turned darker, glowing with a cruel light. I shrank away from her as cold panic washed over me like a slap of icy water. With horror, I understood that she was more powerful than I was and that she was evil. Why hadn’t I seen it before? She had put up a spell so that no one could hear us, and now she was going to kill me and take my magick.

  Erin—or whatever the thing before me truly was—sent out slim wisps of gray smoke. The dark vapor grew thicker and began to fill the room. I felt myself choking. The creature took a step toward me, and I stumbled away from it. It opened its horrible jaws. “Fight,” it said in a voice that was more animal than human. “Fight me.” I racked my brain for a blocking spell, but I couldn’t think clearly. My body was pulsing with adrenaline. Did Alyce know that Erin was evil? Did Hunter know? What would happen to them once I was gone and this thing had my magick? I had survived so much in the last few months. Was this really how I would be done in?

  The creature leaned toward me as the darkness closed in. I didn’t know what to do. Blindly I threw out my hands and sent a white ball of energy at the creature. It was fearsome-looking, brilliant and powerful. I had never called up something like that before, and for a moment I felt a surge of hope. But the creature merely made a flicking gesture with its left arm and easily deflected the ball across the room. It slammed against a metal shelving unit with an enormous crash. Back stock of notebooks flew off the top shelf and rained all over the floor. I could hardly see anything through the black vapor. I cowered against the wall behind me and finally sank to the floor.

  The creature reached out a claw and grabbed my shoulder. “Morgan,” said a voice through the

  darkness. It was a lovely, musical voice, and for a moment I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it before. “Morgan,” it repeated, “are you all right?” I looked down at the horrifying claw on my shoulder. Slowly it began to shift and change. The thick, muddy gray skin began to lighten, and the cruel claws receded until it was nothing but a small, pale hand almost the size of a child’s. I looked up into Erin’s clear green gaze. “Are you all right?” she repeated.

  The fog around me began to lift, and I sat up. “What happened? ” “Take a deep breath,” Erin advised. “Now release it. Do it again,” she urged. “Focus on the breath. Now ground yourself.”

  Leaning forward, I placed my forehead against the cool tile floor. Slowly my head cleared. “You need to learn to control your emotions,” Erin said. “Pride and fear can cut you off from your power and leave you vulnerable. I’m sorry,” she added as I sat up. “You fooled me with thedivagnth. I didn’t realize you weren’t ready for that lesson.” Standing up, Erin reached out her hand and pulled me to my feet. “You’re strong, Morgan,” she said. “That’s your weakness.”

  I frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “You have strong native power,” Erin explained. “Strong abilities. You just called up white witch fire, no easy task. But you don’t have control.” She gestured toward the scorched metal shelves and the Books of Shadows that had spilled all over the floor. “That makes you dangerous.”

  “But you’re here to teach me control,” I protested. “Morgan,” she said with forced patience, “I understand that you’ve been in a complicated situation. I don’t know all the details, but I do know that you’ve been forced into a situation in which you’ve had to begin your education in the middle of things, instead of at the proper beginning.”

  ??
?What are you saying?” I asked warily.

  “I’m saying that you should back up.” Erin’s voice was brittle. “Take a break from magick that is too advanced for you and focus instead on learning your plants and witch history. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but when you’re sailing in the wrong direction, sometimes it’s faster to go back than it is to keep pushing on until you’ve gone around the world.” “I feel like you’re punishing me,” I said bitterly. “It’s for your own safety.” Erin’s voice was like a door slamming shut, and I knew that there was no use arguing. “And it’s not forever, Morgan,” she added. “We’ll begin again tomorrow, at the library. At three-thirty sharp.”

  The bell over the door jingled again—the customers leaving—and Alyce poked her head through the curtain. “Is everything okay back here?” she asked. Her eyes fell on the ruined mass of notebooks. “Oh, my.”

  “We were just about to clean that up,” I said quickly. Erin and I walked over to the pile of Books of Shadows and began brushing them off and placing them back on the shelf. Thankfully, most of them were undamaged. Erin told Alyce that she would pay for the ones that were. “It’s my fault,” Erin told her, digging in her bag. “Besides, the cost of a few blank Books of Shadows isn’t one-tenth of the value of this book.” She jerked her head in the direction ofOn the Containement of Magick.

  I watched Erin hug Alyce as we said good-bye. Erin was stiff, but her affection seemed real as she tucked the silk-wrapped book under her arm. Then again, she’d seemed pretty real when

  she’d looked like a hideous monster only half an hour before.