The Lingering Grace (26 page)

“Just an experiment,” she said. “I’m combining a spell for light with one for growth—that should be easy enough, right?”

“I guess … ? What are you hoping it will do?”

Eva paused and looked momentarily puzzled. Then, shrugging, she went back to writing. “No idea. But at least we’ll know if it does
something
. Can’t be worse than the spell I wrote, can it?”

Based on Eva’s track record, the fact that the spell she had written did nothing at all was almost a point in its favor. At least it hadn’t nearly killed anyone in the vicinity.

Eva read through what she had written and cleared her throat. “Well, I think this is as good as it’s going to get.”

Eva didn’t ask for help with the spell and Alice didn’t offer. If it really was such a small thing, it probably wouldn’t require their combined powers to manage. And she was still gun shy after the last spell turned catastrophic. Eva’s handwritten spell had seemed a fairly safe bet, but reading words from the books again was a different matter.

“Be careful,” she said, scooting a few feet away from Eva’s line of fire.

“It’ll be fine,” Eva said breezily. “It’s nothing.”

Famous last words.
The hairs on the back of Alice’s neck bristled. She wondered how Eva could be so fearless after yesterday. Maybe it was because she had more experience with magic. Or maybe magic was all she really had left.

But as Alice watched her bend over the plant, she felt a twinge of fear distinct from her own nervousness, a little tug in her abdomen that she knew must be Eva’s. Eva clasped her hands together and took a deep breath; the binding spell told Alice that Eva was more nervous than she seemed.

“Here goes,” said Eva.

The minute she started muttering the words, the air went still. Alice’s heart began to pound; she had an impulse to run but remained frozen in place. She wasn’t sure she
could
have moved if she had wanted to.

Pale, round, beating heart,

Beating, beaten,

Break apart.

Your prison is

Your broken heart.

A green sphere was forming in Eva’s hands. It rotated slowly at first, then faster. Cupping it between her palms, Eva stretched her arms over the plant, then quickly pulled her hands away. The little orb remained hovering in the air, shedding a glittering light over the withered branches.

Rainbow, red,

Rainbow, blue,

Tell me softly,

Tell me true.

If you desire

To be one,

Then each must

Sacrifice

Color.

For all are

Nothing.

And all are

Light.

Inch by inch, the green sphere fell, until finally it came to rest on the topmost branch of the bush. It settled there for a moment, delicate as a bubble. Alice held her breath, waiting.

The bubble popped.

Alice, who had been expecting something more explosive, was almost disappointed. The orb popped without fanfare, leaving nothing but a green droplet behind. It sat for a moment—a fluorescent green pearl—then was absorbed into the branch. All that remained was a faint glowing blotch on the otherwise colorless branch.

Eva was no longer looking at her paper. Wide-eyed, she stared at the rosebush. The unnatural stillness in the air began to clear and a bird chirped outside the window. Alice’s heart slowed, and she found herself able to move again. Crawling forward, she whispered, “Is that it?”

“Shhhh,” Eva said, holding a finger to her lips.

Alice fell silent. She turned back to the plant and gasped. Eva shushed her again.

The glowing speckle became a growing splotch of color. It spread outward, slowly at first, but gained speed, consuming the dead grayness and leaving in its wake a gentle, glowing green. The green worked its way down the plant until, with a burst of light, it plunged down the stem and into the soil. Faint light filtered up through the soil as the magic regenerated the plant’s roots. Then, for a moment, all was still.

“It worked,” Alice muttered in shock. Eva, who looked equal parts gleeful and surprised, didn’t bother to quiet her. With a single finger, she reached out to touch one of the branches, but just as she came within an inch or two of the branch, the plant shivered. Eva pulled back and leaves began to unfurl from every stem. It was like watching one of those time-lapse videos Alice had seen in bio.

The rosebush came to life in a way that was as achingly beautiful as it was abnormal. Every leaf was flawless, emerald green with silver veins that etched shining paths across them. The plant cast a gentle glow all around it.

Then, after the last leaf had uncurled, the rosebuds emerged. As they opened, both girls gasped.

These tiny roses put all-natural flowers to shame. The perfect ruby petals glittered in the green glow of the leaves—each one so perfectly placed that the blossoms seemed to defy reality. Dotted across the bush, the flowers hung like precious gems, both enticing and unnatural.

Eva reached forward again, hesitantly this time, but the plant—its miraculous regeneration complete—didn’t stir. She ran her finger across a rose and plucked one of the petals. It turned to ash in her hand and she dropped it in surprise.

“What
is
it?” Alice asked, staring at the ash flecks on the carpet, then back at the glowing plant. “It
can’t
be real.”

Eva for once was at a loss for words. “I … I don’t know. It
looks
real.”

There was a crash at Alice’s window, and both girls jumped. Alice leaped to her feet and ran to see what had happened. She got there just in time to see a large, dead tree branch bounce across the lawn.

“Did something hit the window?” Eva asked.

“A branch.”

Alice looked more closely at the tree that stood just outside her window. It was a prim-looking ash with a cloud of fluttering leaves. The tree itself looked perfectly healthy, but Alice was sure that the sizeable branch that had just tumbled to the ground had come from it. Looking closer at the ash tree’s trunk, she saw a large, dark circle that hadn’t been there before. It looked like a burn on the otherwise unmarked bark.

She looked back at Eva. “It just … died.”

The rosebush caught her eye.

“Eva, I think …”

Eva wrapped her arms protectively around the plant. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” she said. “There was nothing in my spell about killing a tree.”

Alice wasn’t convinced. “But it makes sense! Isn’t there some kind of law about that—about how energy can’t be destroyed or created? Don’t you think it’s possible that you might have sucked some of the tree’s life away when you brought the rosebush back?”

“Magic doesn’t have to play by the rules of physics,” Eva countered. “That’s why it’s
magic
. All I did was combine a spell for light with a spell for healing. And look—it worked
perfectly
. The rosebush isn’t just alive, it’s a living lamp!”

She was right. Even with the sun streaming through the windows, the little rosebush shed a glowing, green-hued circle of light. It was hard to imagine that something so beautiful could have a malevolent streak. The miniature roses twinkled as if the plant were batting its eyelashes.

Eva stroked one of the leaves. “Alice, do you realize what this means?”

It meant that the spell combination had worked, but that thought made Alice squirm. Part of her had been hoping this experiment would fail as miserably as the previous one, and Eva would forget her crazy resurrection plan and help Alice with the far more reasonable task of healing her mother.

“I guess it means I can throw away my nightlight,” Alice said grimly.

Eva laughed; she was buoyant, gleeful. She jumped to her feet and gave Alice a hug. Alice barely had time to stiffen in surprise before Eva bounced off, grabbed the two spellbooks, and plopped herself down on the bed.

“It means that it’s possible. I always thought it was, but now I know.”

“Now we know,” Alice repeated, sitting down on the bed next to her. She still couldn’t take her eyes off of the rosebush.

Eva was glowing almost as brightly as the roses.

“We can do anything, Alice. We can bring Penny back if we can just find the right words.”

Though Alice couldn’t match Eva’s enthusiasm, she felt her own heart start to race in time. A thrill that may have been hers or may have been Eva’s—she couldn’t tell this time—raced through her. The possibilities were dizzying, it was true. And Alice, despite her misgivings, couldn’t help wondering if there
were
limits. If they could resurrect a girl, maybe there weren’t.

She knew what Tony would say, knew what even her own common sense was screaming: that no power is limitless, that nothing comes without a price, that magic has unintended consequences. But the rosebush was gleaming, and Eva was pointing out one useful spell after another, and in the excitement, it was all too easy to forget the burn mark on the tree … the dead limb on the lawn.

So what if we killed a branch. It’s just a tree anyway
, Alice thought, brushing away her concerns. She grabbed a pen and began to write a few lines of her own.

They were up until three in the morning working. Alice’s mom knocked on the door a few times to see if they needed anything.

“You’re so studious!” she said when she popped her head in at eleven thirty. They were lying on the floor with open books and notepads out, and she looked genuinely surprised. “When I was in high school, I never did homework on a Friday night.”

“Colleges are so picky these days,” Eva said smoothly. “I think both Alice and I agree that it’s better to put in some hard work and get ahead now rather than suffer later. The college you go to can change your whole life.”

Alice nodded though she felt guiltier about the little lie than she normally would have.
She’s not on her deathbed
, she reminded herself.
And she’s not
going
to be for a long time.

“Well … ” said her mom, sounding a little taken aback, “I’m glad you’re both so … so forward thinking. Alice, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” Alice jumped to her feet, clenching her hands behind her back. She followed her mom out of the room. “One sec,” she whispered to Eva, who had already gone back to studying her book. She, at least, was unconcerned.

Alice, on the other hand, found herself biting her lip as she looked up at her mother’s serious expression.

“Is everything okay?” she whispered.

“Yes, it’s fine,” her mom said, but her voice was distant and tired. “I just wanted to let you know that Dad and I will be gone tomorrow morning. We’re driving to San Francisco for a consultation.”

“For … ” Alice’s eyes wandered to her mother’s chest before she could stop herself. Her mom pulled her silky pink bathrobe around her more tightly.

“I just wanted to let you know, so you don’t wonder where we are,” her mom said. She tried to smile, but it was such a heavy thing, as though her lips were struggling to lift an enormous weight.

Alice nodded.

“They’re not going to do anything—it’s just a sit-down with a surgeon. Maybe a few X-rays. Nothing to worry about,” she said though Alice wasn’t sure which one of them she was trying to reassure.

“Of course,” Alice agreed. “Nothing to worry about.”

“And Eva can stay as long as she wants,” her mom went on, “And you can order takeout—just don’t forget to ask Jeremy what he wants. Though he’s going over to Morty’s house in the afternoon, so maybe he won’t even be—”

“I’ll take care of him, Mom.”

Her mom nodded and brushed her hair away from her neck.

“Well, call if you need anything. And don’t stay up
too
late.”

“We won’t.”

Her mom nodded and pulled Alice into a hug. “Love you, sweetie,” she whispered.

Alice buried her face in her mom’s shoulder, feeling the smooth silk against her cheek, smelling the coconut lotion her mom slathered on before bed. She was so
real
. So solid. It was hard to imagine that inside of her, inside every cell and every particle, was a self-destruct switch with the countdown already running.

“Love you too,” Alice whispered, breathing in deeply and blinking hard.

Eva hardly looked up when Alice walked back into the room.

“What did your mom want?” she asked. She was holding the spellbook open with one hand and typing something on her laptop with the other. Alice could see she was on the Wicca forums again.

“She was saying goodnight.” She paused to see if the binding spell would allow her lie by omission. Nothing happened, and she exhaled swiftly.

Alice grabbed her cell phone and sat down next to Eva. She scrolled through her texts, responding to Tony’s goodnight first. In her peripheral vision, she could see Eva studying her face, her brow furrowed. Alice was sure Eva could sense that something was wrong—that Alice wasn’t telling her everything. But, to Alice’s relief, Eva decided not to question her further.

“That’s sweet,” she said, and, with a slight frown, turned back to her computer.