The Witchfinder Wars (14 page)

"Now, honey, you know that's not true,"
Grand said in her calming-the-waters voice. "He just suggested you
and your sister might enjoy a different school, that's all."

Grand looked pretty upset herself, though,
so I wasn't sure I believed her.

Jos gave a great big sniff.

I sighed and set the jar of lavender on the
table, then reconsidered—after all, it was supposed to be soothing,
right?—and picked it back up and carried it to Grand.

"How nice, Tommy," she said and stuck her
nose right in it. "How did you know I loved lavender? And I love
the old Mason jar! What a relief after all these hothouse flowers!"
She held it out to Jos, who took a tentative sniff and then a
bigger one.

Jax, who was in no mood to be soothed,
ignored it when Grand held it in her direction.

"Well, Tommy?" my sister snapped. "What are
you going to do about this, this, this Clay person?"

I leaned over and put one hand on each of
her shoulders. "I'll tell you one thing, Jaxie. Nobody is taking
you or Jos away from me and Grand, and that includes this Clay
person or anyone else in the whole wide world. Got it?"

"Well," she said doubtfully, "okay then. Can
I smell that green stuff too?"

Grand held out the little jar and Jax took a
sniff. "Not bad," she said. "Kind of spicy and clean. Come on, Jos,
wipe your nose and let's go do our homework."

Both twins hugged Grand and ran out the
door.

"Wow. It does calm people down. Anya was
right," I said in amazement.

"Anya?" Grand asked, her head cocked to one
side and a little smile lifting the right corner of her mouth.
"Someone I need to know about?"

I plunged both hands in my pockets. I could
feel the cool length of ribbon between the fingers of my right
hand. "Yes, ma'am, I guess you do." I grinned at her. "That's where
I got the lavender, from Anya. She said you'd like it and she was
right. She also said it had a calming effect; guess that's true
too, huh?"

"Sit down, sweetheart, and tell me all about
her."

I plopped down on the rug in front of
Grand's chair and it all came tumbling out: meeting Anya at school,
where she was in all my classes; helping her out when Jordan and
his bully boys were threatening her; the letter she'd sent me made
me feel better; my visit to her house when she wasn't at school
today; and how relaxed and comfortable she'd made me feel, so I was
able to finally get a nap without having it interrupted by horrible
dreams.

"She sounds just lovely. And you do look
more rested than you have lately," Grand said as she smoothed the
hair back from my forehead. "I've been worried about you, honey. I
just want you to be careful and, well, not rush into anything. All
this has been hard on every one of us—including Clay and Kinsey, of
course," she added with what sounded like reluctance.

"Oh, sure," I said. "Clay and Kinsey are
just crushed. What you mean to say is, Clay is thrilled he's got
more control of WFG now Dad is gone."

"Now, that's not true," Grand said, then saw
the look on my face. "Well, maybe it is, at least in some ways. Let
me tell you a little about Clay. He's the second son, of course,
and its always made him more than a little angry. He's always
thought, you see, he'd be better at directing the company than your
father, but WFG is a family business and traditionally, the oldest
son of the oldest son takes over. Jamieson, your grandfather,
always preferred Clay to Spenser, just as, I'm afraid, I always did
the opposite. Clay can be a little, well, hard to deal with at
times. But he loves the business and recognizes the important
things it does, I'm sure. So please don't let him get under your
skin, or at least try not to, okay? Now. Tell me more about this
Anya of yours. Is she pretty?"

I thought about her question for a minute.
"She's...well, she's something better than pretty, Grand, something
I don't really have a word for. Oh, she looks fine and all that,
but she's, I don't know...natural and real and warm. She's got red
hair and green eyes and she's a little thing, not much taller than
you are."

"She sounds lovely, Tommy. I know some
people in this town; I grew up near here, remember? What's her last
name?"

Grand was smiling for what seemed like the
first time in weeks.

"Let's see...oh, I remember. Blanchett.
Sounds French, doesn't it?"

I was looking at the little jar of lavender
and didn't notice for a minute Grand had gone silent. I looked at
her.

The smile was gone from her face and it had
gone a pale, dead white.

My first thought was heart attack or stroke
or one of those things that hit old people. I jumped up and leaned
over her.

"Grand? Are you okay?"

She held up a hand; it was trembling. I
grabbed it; ice cold. Now I was really getting scared. "Grand, I'm
going to call a doctor."

"No, Tommy; I don't need a doctor. I'm fine.
Just...just a little surprised, honey. I didn't know the Blanchetts
still lived around here, that's all."

"What's wrong with them, Grand? What do you
know about them?"

Before she could answer, there was a knock
at her door.

"Mrs. Hopkins?"

Sally's voice.

"Yes, Sally?"

"Mr. Clay Hopkins wants to see Tommy, ma'am.
It sounds urgent."

Chapter Nine

Anya

The moon was waning tonight, which was
perfect for what I had to do. The voice that had been my constant
companion since the robe ritual was a low whine now. My heart was
telling me not to cut the cord connecting us; my mind was telling
me to free him as fast as I could.

I would have to wait for the house to go
silent. If Ivy and Evie were worried enough, they'd peek in on me.
It wouldn't do any good if they interrupted the magic before it was
done. And their elation I was performing magic without them would
be way too much for me right now.

When Ivy and Evie left the living room, I
could hear their voices as they walked up the stairs. I clutched
the side of my bed, ready to spring in the direction of my altar
the moment silence fell upon the house.

Evie's tone snapped me out of my
impatience.

"There is something going on with Annie,
Ivy. I just can't seem to put my finger on it. And the stars tell
me nothing."

"You're just worried to worry. She's fine.
If anything, it's probably that boy I keep seeing in her
cards."

"Have you told her about what we saw? The
stars did confirm..."

My mother actually hissed. Like a cat. "No!
We can't and you won't either. I won't have her scared away over
nothing. We need her strength, Evelyn. We'll never be anything if
we don't have it."

"Ivy, what we saw wasn't 'nothing'. If she
is to be a full member of this Coven, we can't keep these things
from her." Evie sounded worried.

"Well, she's not a member yet. And I'm the
eldest, so my answer is final. I won't have her told when there's a
chance something could change."

"It doesn't work that way, and you know it.
The future is written, Sister. It cannot be changed. And besides,
you're only ten minutes older than I am."

"Don't do this to us, Evie." My mother's
voice took on a pleading tone. "We've already lost one; I can't
bear to lose the other."

I didn't hear any more of their
conversation. To be honest, I didn't want to hear anymore. Yet,
curiosity slipped around my defenses. Told what exactly? Who was
this other? What power could I have to offer them? The power to
lose control over myself at the first signs of a breakdown? To lose
what little grip I had left on my sanity after I had managed to
regain it? And now, I had to let go of someone I didn't know for
sure was mine in the first place?

My heart was already shattered. I didn't
want any more surprises.

The sounds of the house settling fell around
me when the blue numbers of the clock turned to midnight. My knees
cracked against the hardwood floor moments later as I fell down in
front of my altar.

You gotta do this, Annie. Release him. Let
him be happy.

The voice was my own this time as I lit the
semi-circle of candles facing me. A soft glow filled the room as
each small fire flickered its welcome.

"Great Mother..."

I had made my decision to do this completely
unprepared. No herbs, no incense; only myself and the candles. The
energy was building in waves around the altar and I knew I was
ready. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

Arms raised above my head, I pleaded with
the Goddess to join me. To be with me as I did the working. I
dropped my arms and began to untie the string. I watched the cord
fall to curl around my feet. I felt it when the emptiness inside me
took hold.

The voice in my head was silent.

I searched in vain for the cord as if to
call it back as I struggled to contain the tears starting to
fall.

"I wasn't expecting this to be so hard. I
don't know him. And he doesn't know me."

But it was hard. It had to be because of the
binding, but I didn't think the magic had been so strong.

"Forgive me for..." The words broke against
the sudden lump in my throat. I was choking against them. Forcing
them out against my will seemed to take everything I had. ". . .
for not understanding how powerful we truly are. I release the
binding I put upon Tommy Hopkins. It was nothing more than a lonely
girl trying to find someone—anyone—who would accept her."

I had to calm down. My hands were shaking as
badly as my voice. The truth was harsh, but I couldn't lie to
myself here. At this time, in this place, the truth was all I could
cling to as everything else was thrown away. So I had to accept it,
whether I wanted to or not.

"I'm too much like Ivy. I used magic for my
own gain no matter how it would affect him. How it would affect me.
The attachment I feel now, this pain—it is a product of that.
Thrice to give, thrice to take. He will be a stranger to me now. As
it should be. As it was meant to be."

My tears came in earnest now. The shame I
felt for doing magic with only myself to gain was something I had
shunned for years, ever since I had begun to learn magic. It was a
gift too easily squandered, and my experiences with Ivy and Evie
had confirmed that. Yet I'd done the very thing the day of the robe
ritual I had promised myself I would never do. I wanted the
stranger who cared enough to help me. It didn't matter if he was
meant for me or not.

But there was also the part of me that
wanted to deny spellcraft even existed. I didn't want to know the
elements and the universe could make things, or break them. Like it
was doing to me now. I had been torn into a million jagged pieces,
when all I had wanted was to be considered normal like everyone
else. So the jeers about curses and broomsticks could be placed on
someone else's head.

Could they? Or was I too different?

I concentrated on Tommy being alone. Going
to college far away from Manning. With friends. Being happy.
Without me.

It wasn't the pain that kept breaking my
concentration. Or even the horrible images I kept projecting into
the fires.

The problem was I didn't believe in them. I
couldn't convince myself we weren't meant to be together. The
happier memories kept overshadowing the dark ones.

The memories of how thrilled seeing him this
afternoon made me. The shock lighting up his sad eyes when we
walked down to the pond and he saw the beauty of it. The curious
look of tenderness he would throw in my direction when he thought I
wasn't looking. Even the sound of his voice played in my ears like
a chorus against the rushing of the surrounding energies. Finally,
the kiss that seemed to seal us together.

The old wood of my makeshift altar felt cool
against my cheek as I pressed my face against it. I was
exhausted.

"It's better for him this way, Great Mother.
If it weren't for my interference, he never would have been drawn
to me. He wouldn't have even known I existed. Give me the strength
to let him go. I reverse the magic I cast. As it was, so now must
it be."

The images began to fade as I tried to draw
them back. But my energies were spent. I had worked them into a
frenzy with the strength of my emotions before and so I stopped
trying to make them come to me.

The candles lowered their flames to sling
velvet shadows around me. They had responded to the shift in
emotion here with perfection.

A dream best forgotten surfaced before my
eyes against the darkness. The one filled with fire and screams. I
could see it all so clearly now. My mind was too weak to
protest.

The funeral pyre around my feet was a small
mound of branches lit by a stranger's hand. The stake was nothing
more than a large beam of rough timber used to support a barn or a
house. I didn't care which. The splinters from it pricked the skin
around my bare arms and wrists each time I moved against the rope
holding me in place.

The silver cord was still there, tight
around my ribcage and reflecting small shards of light into my
eyes. The people were shouting obscene things, but I ignored them.
I was warm, and my body was too tired to fight against them any
longer. I was ready. More willing than ever to go to my peace.

Tommy's voice came then, carried over the
fire, calling me by the nickname only my family used. I looked up,
away from the flames. The panic on his face was something I'd never
seen before and hoped I would never see again. Blood trickled down
into my palms as I rubbed my skin raw against the wood and rope in
the attempt to keep him away from his own death. My pain was of
little matter to me now.

My own voice screeched above the roaring of
the flames. Funny. I'd never realized how loud fire could be.