The Wishing Star (37 page)

She settled back on her log and waited for Jenny to speak. The horror of the sabbat was still vivid in Jenny's mind. Now her thoughts were flitting back and forth between the memory of that night and Adela's words. Despair filled Jenny, and only then did she realize she was still fighting that final step.

As if guessing, Adela spoke again. “We have been very patient. You know we have the right to demand your cooperation. You used us to your purposes, tampered with our power. Now you think you can claim power with Joseph's talisman as well as your own. Jenny, have all of your lessons been for nothing? You know the spirits respond only as you approach them in the proper way. You cannot demand power; you are a weakling.

“Only those who have worked hard will be granted the powers of the universe to command as they wish. Jenny, even I have not earned that right yet. You are only a poor little sorcerer, not even a real witch. We have been patient with your silly charms and pallid potions. Jenny, it's the sabbat or nothing.”

Adela stood and paced with impatient quick steps before saying, “You began all this when you chose to read your father's book. Jenny, the next step is a pact with his Highness. When the new moon comes, I will see you right here.”

Jenny covered her face with her hands.
Only two weeks are left before the new moon
, she thought. Jenny was flooded with the memories—wishing for another chance with Adela. Then she saw a picture of the silver chalice, surrounded by the heavy scent of fresh blood. Jenny slipped from the log. Only when her face felt the freshness of forest fern did she realize she had fainted.

The afternoon was far spent now, but Jenny continued to sit numbly until the cool breeze and the musty dampness forced her to her feet. With a sigh she stooped to pick up the Mormon books she had brought to read. Then suddenly caught by a new thought, she stared at them.

Both Tom and Andy had been filling her with glorious reports of power and mystery. Even before the dedication, there had been stories of visions and prophecies. Maybe the church was the way to gain the power she needed without going through the sabbat! Maybe Joseph knew the secrets, after all!

Carefully she knelt beside the log and tipped open the first book. Before she began to read, she recalled her past amusement and disbelief. But that was in the past. Trembling, eager now, her eyes skimmed the pages, searching for the secret of power, the kind of power Joseph had. And Adela. Surely that had been Adela in the office. She must be searching for power in the church, too.

When it was dark and she could no longer see the page before her, she sighed, stood up, and gathered her books.

Sally met her at the Morgans' back door. “Where have you been?” she cried. “We've been frantic.”

Strangely detached, as if she no longer lived in her own body, Jenny eyed Sally's perturbed face. “Why do you carry on so? You act as fearful as if ghosts and goblins inhabited the woods.” Sally's concern faded and questions grew in her eyes.

Feeling as dry and lifeless as Joseph's mummies, she prepared for bed. Only briefly did she wonder how Adela knew about everything, including Mark.

A week passed and a second was rapidly drawing to a close. One night Jenny stood at her window, looking down over the pale gleam of Kirtland, deeply conscious of the energy forces moving toward that time of the new moon. All nature seemed astir with the power. Night creatures rustled in the grasses. Far in the distance a wolf lifted his voice in a howl of desperation.

A brooding melancholy wrapped about Jenny. In one clear moment of illumination she saw her world's true state—without hope or comfort. “Powerless,” she murmured into the night.

The moon was rising, and its heavy form seemed liquid and full of energy. Her eyes widened as she watched it; pulsing energy seemed to emanate from it. With a shiver she moved restlessly, but found herself unable to leave the window. Was moon energy surrounding her, holding her fast, striking off the minutes that remained? Had it staked a claim on her that she couldn't deny?

“Luna,” she whispered, “every woman's friend—” Suddenly Adela's dark face and penetrating eyes seemed to sweep between Jenny and the moon.

The horror of the sabbat rose to overwhelm her. She pressed her hands over her eyes. “I can't, I just can't face that again.” Even as she murmured the words, she shivered and wrapped her arms about herself, pressing Joseph's talisman between her breasts.

Slowly she dropped her arms and stared out into the night, now silent, cold, and powerless, as clouds slid over the moon. “It's an omen,” she whispered. Her fingers reached to touch the metal disk, warm with the heat of her body. “It is an omen. God is telling me to escape Adela's terrible plan to force me to sell myself to Satan. Only with Joseph is there hope. Just like those men in the temple, I will have power. But there's another confirmation—Adela's secret. She's searching for more power, too, and she's doing it through joining Joseph's church.”

Chapter 27

The door to Joseph's office stood open. Jenny, standing at the foot of the stairs, cocked her head and listened. The press was still and Oliver didn't seem to be around. Quickly and lightly she ran up the stairs.

Joseph's chair was tipped against the wall, his feet cushioned on the books and papers spread across his desk. His eyes were closed, and a wide grin covered his face. For a moment Jenny froze, unable to move. Unexpectedly her heart was pounding painfully hard, and it wasn't from the run up the stairs.

Dismayed, she recognized herself a captive of her own emotions. She trembled with the need to rush into his arms, to press her lips against that silly grin and bright hair.

Chewing her lip, she waited for her heart to slow. Once again she must face the questions that had been tearing her apart. Was there power to be had in the church, or was the idea a trick to force her to surrender that dearest dream?

She studied the face that was becoming as familiar as her own. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the desire she possessed in reality possessed her. But she shrugged off the idea and clenched her fists. Power—it must be hers! Still she hesitated, poised to fly away from the resolution which had brought her here.

Could she trust this new promise of power through the church? The echo of Tom's entreaty to join the church thrust her into the room. She took one step, determining that if he did not hear her, it was to be an omen against joining the church.

Joseph's eyes popped open while chair and feet struck the floor. He recovered his composure, but papers and books slid to the floor at Jenny's feet.

She dropped to her knees to pick them up and he was beside her, his face nearly touching hers. His blue eyes were teasing, tempting. She rocked back on her heels and picked up a black leather book. “Holy Bible,” she read, and looking up said, “My mother had one of these.”

“Did you read it?”

“No. I was too busy sneaking my father's grimoire.” She saw instantly that she needn't explain that a grimoire was a book of magic. He was grinning and shaking his head.

“And now you have so much power you are bringing my talisman back?”

“No, I've come to join the church.” She watched the grin disappear. “You don't act too eager to have me.”

He stood and walked back to his chair. “Tell me, Jenny, why do you wish to join?”

“Does it matter?” His eyes seemed to bore into hers, measuring, weighing. She knew hers were answering, but she didn't know what their promise was. Now his expression brightened, and she guessed he was pleased about something.

He chuckled. “So Jenny wants to be part of Zion's children. Tell me, was it the promises and the glory of the temple, or is it the enticement of some young man?”

“Of course it was the temple dedication,” she answered lightly. From his expression she decided that he was encouraged. But she also knew there was an element in his expression that she couldn't fathom.

“Very well,” he said, getting to his feet. “I'll put you on the roll right away.”

“What do I have to do?” she asked in a playfully mocking tone. She saw the Bible. “Do you expect me to read that since I've not yet made it through the
Book of Mormon
?”

“No, that won't be necessary. You've only to be baptized at the first suitable time.”

“Oh, don't trouble yourself,” she said hastily. “I was baptized when I joined the Presbyterian church.”

He shook his head, still slightly smiling. “Jenny, you don't understand. If you had bothered to read the
Book of Commandments
, you would have discovered the Lord's instruction.”

“What do you mean?”

Picking up a book he began reading to her. “Revelation number twenty-three. The Lord has caused all past covenants to be done away, and even though you've been baptized a hundred times, it's worthless in this dispensation. Because of man's dead works, God needed to perform this new work. There's no other way, Jenny. This is the new and everlasting covenant. You must be baptized in the Church of the Latter-day Saints.”

“Oh, all right; I suppose I'll survive another dipping.” She turned impatiently toward the door.

“That isn't all, Jenny—” She turned back and saw his outstretched hand. “The talisman, Jenny. Give me the talisman.”

She nearly walked out, but at that dark moment, the horror of the sabbat swept over her again and she felt those cold fingers clutching, demanding satisfaction. Still, she hesitated a long moment.

Slowly the rigid expression on Joseph's face gave way to a smile of satisfaction. With a sigh of resignation she said, “You must turn your back.”

When she handed him the talisman, still warm from her body, he smiled. “Warm and sweet, like Jenny. That is a promise, isn't it?”

“I don't know what you mean,” she said coolly. “I intend to be a good church member. I want all the—” She caught herself before she said
power
.

“My dear, I promise you, the women in my church will reap all the benefits of eternity, providing they are willing to follow the ordinances of the gospel.”

Jenny walked slowly home, full of misgivings. She had gone expecting to come away victor, triumphant with the step which would release her into the realm of new power. Now she was feeling very much like the loser. The expression on Joseph's face stayed with her.

Briefly she thought of Emma and wondered how she was going to fit this new situation into her resolve to be the only Mrs. Smith. Would that most desperate measure, the waxen image, have to be utilized?

Jenny went out to tell her friends that she had joined the church. With the handshakes, hugs, and kisses, she was immediately drawn into an inner circle she didn't dream existed. Within a few weeks she discovered another benefit: once again she was being deluged with requests for her nursing services.

After one such week spent taking care of a newborn and his mother, Jenny returned to the Morgans' to find Andy at the kitchen table poring over his account ledgers.

“Jenny,” he said, “I'm just sitting here seeing in these figures the picture of all that lies ahead of us. I can't get over it. The Lord is preparing to bless the Saints just as He has promised. Look, last year, just over here in Buffalo, people were spending $500 for an acre of land. This year the same acre is worth $l0,000.”

Jenny dropped her valise on the floor and gasped. “That much! How can people possibly buy?”

“They aren't. Right here in Kirtland the price of a lot has risen from $50 to $2,000. Even the farms next to us have gone from $10 or $15 an acre to $150. Joseph thinks it behooves us to hang on to the land with all our strength. Right now, if there's buying and selling, it's done in shares and with securities or notes.”

She frowned at him. “Then we actually don't have money to buy and sell.”

“No, we don't. That's why I say the Lord is
preparing
to bless us. This is just the leading edge of the blessings. We must be very wise and cautious right now.”

He was silent and Jenny could see his agitation. “What is it, Andy?”

Andy looked up from the ledger. “Jenny, you are one of us now. Also, you are a very intelligent woman.” For a moment Jenny nearly lost his words as she considered his description of her; then she heard, “It is no secret; our Prophet doesn't manage money well. He is impulsive and good-hearted. That kind of handling the finances will get us in a fix sooner or later. So I've been trying to get council to suggest we put Brigham Young in charge of the financial affairs, but not a man is willing to push the idea.” He sighed heavily and stroked his beard. “We need to get a financial advisor or an attorney to come in and work with him.”

He moved restlessly. “Trouble is, Joseph doesn't take kindly to the men under him lifting reins of responsibility. I guess I'll continue to search for a lawyer to come give me advice and work himself into Joseph's good graces.”

A vision of Mark burst into Jenny's thoughts. Even as she recognized his suitability, she was recalling those last painful scenes with him. She winced and Andy saw it. “You don't agree?”

“I was thinking of a young man who seems ideal, but I was also wondering how I could avoid being involved in the situation.”

Andy studied her thoughtfully, saying, “I wondered why an attractive young woman like you ignored the local swains. I understand. I'd be willing to give him a chance just for your sake, Jenny.” She stared back at him, realizing explanations would only complicate matters.

He pulled a blank sheet of paper and picked up his pen. Lifting his head, he said, “Now, name and address, please.”

****

Once alerted to the changing financial picture, Jenny began to see the events taking place in Kirtland with new eyes. Obviously the Saints were astir with the same money excitement that infused all the western United States.