Chapter 13

13

“ W hat’s Kildare?”

“Huh?”

We were flying back along the road toward Lightkeep Cottage, Persi behind me, using the leather satchel on the back of my bike as a makeshift seat.

“I saw it carved into the wall behind Bernadette’s head, in the cell. What does it mean? Is it like, an incantation or something?”

“No, it’s a name. The Kildares were a coven that lived in Sedgwick Cove a long time ago—close to two hundred years ago, I think.”

“Why’s their name carved into the wall of the Keep?”

Persi laughed humorlessly. “Probably because they saw it as a badge of honor to be locked up in there. They were a nasty bunch, or so the stories go.”

“Really?”

“By all accounts, they made no secret of their affinity for dark magic. They rose quickly when they came, gathering allies and challenging hierarchies. Soon it became clear that they were not content to simply coexist in Sedgwick Cove —they wanted the deep magic for themselves. They even tried to summon the Darkness, like Sarah Claire had once done. When their attempts were discovered, they were banished, but not before they spent a bit of time in the Keep.”

It surprised me to hear of another coven doing what Sarah Claire had done, but I supposed it really shouldn’t have. I was beginning to understand that the deep magic was a temptation that brought out the worst in those who sought it. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, or whatever the saying was.

We managed to make it in the door, and up to our rooms without arousing any suspicion. I fell into bed fully clothed, and didn’t wake up until well past ten o’clock. My mouth felt like sandpaper, and my head was pounding. I’d never been hung over, but I thought this might be how it felt. I really needed to start sleeping on a normal schedule again.

The door to Persi’s bedroom was closed, and the room on the other side of the door was quiet. I didn’t have the courage to knock, though I wondered how she was holding up. Other than answering my questions about the Kildares, she’d been silent the whole way back from the Keep —the kind of silence that demands to be respected rather than broken. So I had taken my cues from her, and we had not discussed Bernadette or Sarah or anything that had transpired that night. I wondered, in the light of day, if she had any regrets. Maybe, given how late I’d slept, she was already gone, off to turn herself in and confess everything to the Conclave. I supposed I’d hear about it one way or the other. It would likely be all over Sedgwick Cove within an hour of her walking out the door. I didn’t know a whole lot about my hometown yet, but I did know that gossip spread like wildfire, and that Persi frequently made herself the subject of that gossip.

My mom wasn’t in her room, or anywhere in the cottage. I decided not to text her or try to hunt her down. My relief over the successful Cleansing was already fading, and I was ready to dive back into my studies. I ate my breakfast with one of my introductory magic books propped up against the pitcher of orange juice. I spent the next couple of hours reading and taking notes, and then heading out into the garden and seeing how many of the plants and herbs I could identify by sight. The answer was not a lot, so I started taking pictures of them all, and storing them in an album on my phone, so that I could flip through them almost like flash cards. Then I started making a map of how they were all laid out that I could study. I’d only just begun this, though, when Rhi came running out to the garden.

“Wren, there you are! I was looking for you everywhere!” she said, slightly out of breath.

“What’s up?” I asked, rising from the grass and brushing the dirt from my knees.

“Do you think you might be able to come down and help at Shadowkeep for a little while this afternoon? Persi is… well, she’s got something she needs to deal with.” Rhi attempted a smile, but it was forced and slightly manic.

I kept my expression as neutral as possible. “Sure, no problem.”

“You won’t be by yourself, I’m headed over, too. I just need someone to keep an eye on downstairs when I need to pop up to the second floor.”

“I think I can handle that,” I said. “I’m supposed to meet Zale at six for pageant stuff. Do you think we’ll be done by then?”

Rhi nodded. “Shop closes at five, except by appointment on the second floor. I wouldn’t ask, but with tourists coming in for the Solstice Festival, we’re busier than usual this week.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad to help,” I said, clamping down on the urge to ask more about Persi.

“Great. I’ll just change clothes and we can head over there,” Rhi said, glancing down at her flour-sprinkled overalls.

Despite her usually chatty nature, Rhi hardly spoke a word as we rode side by side into town on our bikes. She kept her eyes locked ahead of her, and she was chewing anxiously on her lower lip. I could only conclude that Persi had done as she said she would, and gone to confess to a member of the Conclave. What would happen now? She’d said she would keep me out of it, but would she really be able to do that? Would she even want to? Persi and I had been together—cooperated with each other—during a very vulnerable moment for her. Had she woken up today and remembered how much she still resented me? If so, I was likely to be in nearly as much trouble as she was. My palms were sweaty against the handlebars of my bike, and I could feel nervous perspiration starting under my arms. Despite this, I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself that I had done the right thing by helping Persi, and I still believed it. If I had to face consequences for that, so be it.

The door to Shadowkeep had been locked, and a sign had been hung in the front window: Gone for a Spell. Be Right Back. I smirked at the pun, but quickly sobered my expression as Rhi fumbled with the keys, swearing under her breath. She pushed open the door, flipped the sign, and checked the register as I followed behind.

“Can I do anything for you while I’m here?” I asked Rhi, as she paced absently behind the counter, looking like she’d forgotten something.

“Huh? Oh, no thanks, honey. Why don’t you keep on with your studies? I’ll give you a shout if I need you.”

I shrugged, and settled on a velvet green settee in the back corner of the shop that was piled with decorative pillows that said things like, “I’m Here for the Boos,” and “Are You A Good Witch or A Bad Witch?” I settled in and pulled out the pageant script, feeling guilty that I hadn’t really looked at it much, but had only managed to read a few pages when the bell for the upstairs echoed down the stairs.

“I’ll be right back,” Rhi said. “Are you sure you’ll…”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, tossing the script aside, and coming around behind the counter.

“We’re not really digitized. It’s part of the charm, or so Asteria thought,” Rhi said, smiling weakly. “Just punch in the prices on the tags, and the register will total it for you. And this button opens the till.”

“No problem, I’ve had to make change before,” I said. “I’ll figure it out. Honestly, I’m fine.”

Rhi hesitated, but a second ring of the bell sent her scurrying upstairs instead. I slid onto the stool, opened my book again, and tried to pick up where I’d left off, trying to find some semblance of concentration. I listened to the gentle music of wind chimes out on the porch. I breathed in the herb-scented air. An antique clock ticked up on the wall. Rhi’s footsteps and the muffled hum of conversation echoed overhead.

And then I heard my name.

At first, I was so lulled by the atmosphere of the shop that my brain took a moment to catch up. It was almost as though I expected the sound, like it was a natural part of the soundscape of Shadowkeep. This was my family’s shop. My name belonged in this place as fully as I did. Then, I heard it again, and it sounded… insistent.

I looked up toward the ceiling, my heart beginning to race. Surely it was just Rhi, talking to the customer upstairs, and happening to mention me. That made much more logical sense than what my intuition was screaming at me. Surely the simplest explanation was the correct one. I should have realized by now that that particular adage didn’t apply in a place like Sedgwick Cove.

Wren. Wren Vesper.

This time, I felt the words inside my head even as I heard them outside of myself, and once again, I felt a pull toward the window. I abandoned the script on the counter, and approached slowly. I knew who I would see. I knew who would be waiting for me.

Asteria stood in the garden, looking at me. Her expression was at once warm and loving, but also somehow mournful. She looked not-quite solid, and yet there was no mistaking her. She wore the dress I had last seen her in, a colorful confection of patchwork and lace. I’d nearly convinced myself that she’d been a dream that night I saw her standing outside my bedroom window, but now there she stood again, in broad and shining daylight; and I knew I had no more dreamed her then than I was dreaming her right now. Every part of me was awake, drinking her in.

“Asteria,” I whispered.

She raised a single hand in a gesture that seemed to speak at once of greeting and farewell. I raised my own hand and pressed it to the glass, feeling the longing for her to sing in my bones, and knowing that even if I ran out to her, she’d be no closer or further away than she was to me in that moment.

Wren. Tread carefully, my love.

“Why?” I whispered.

They still seek you. You must ? —

The bell over the door jingled brightly, and I spun away from the window with a startled gasp to see Luca Meyers freeze with one foot over the threshold of the door.

“Oh, shit, sorry. Did I… I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, looking warily around the inside of the shop, like he was unsure if he should walk the rest of the way in. He hooked his thumb over his shoulder at the door behind him. “The sign says open.”

“Luca! No, it’s fine, I… we are open, I was just… distracted. What are you—come on in,” I said. I’d been about to ask him what he was doing there, but then I remembered it was a shop. Why did anyone walk into a shop? I tried to pull myself together as I chanced one last glance out the window. Asteria had vanished again.

If Luca noticed my awkward greeting, he didn’t show it. His face split into an easy smile as he loped in.

“Hey, Wren. So, you’ve got your family putting you to work this summer too, huh?”

“I guess so,” I replied. “Can I, uh… help you find anything?”

“No, I’m just—” he gestured over his shoulder, and at that moment a woman walked in through the door behind him.

She was a strikingly beautiful woman—the sort of woman that usually only seems to exist in the pages of fashion magazines. She was tall and statuesque, with impossibly long legs, made longer by four-inch stiletto heels. Her pale pointed face was surrounded by a cascade of dark curls, and her full lips, when she spotted me, curled into a smile.

“—here with my mom,” Luca finished.

I did my best not to gawk at the woman while she removed an oversized pair of designer sunglasses to reveal grass green eyes, fringed with thick lashes.

“Luca, do you know this young woman?” she asked, looking curiously back and forth between the two of us.

“Uh, yeah. Mom, this is Wren Vesper. Wren, this is my mother.”

“Veronica Meyers,” the woman said, extending a perfectly manicured hand, which I hurried forward to take. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too,” I said, feeling suddenly self-conscious about my bitten fingernails, not that Veronica seemed to take the slightest notice. She was smiling at me pleasantly, and I did my best to smile back.

“And how did you two meet?” Veronica asked, looking back and forth between Luca and me. “I hadn’t realized Luca had had any time off for socializing. His uncle’s got him working all kinds of hours.” She leaned toward me conspiratorially, like she was inviting me to share in some private joke. “I told him he should just enjoy his summer, but he’s determined to work himself to death.”

Luca squirmed uncomfortably. “I told you, Mom. I’m saving up for a car.”

“And I told you I would buy you one,” Veronica said, looking absolutely bewildered.

“I know, and I appreciate it, but that’s not what I want,” Luca replied. It was the first time I’d ever seen him look anything but utterly relaxed. His face was bright red, and he was staring at his feet, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I want to do it myself.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “He’s got his heart set on this rusty old relic, and then he wants to spend months and thousands of dollars to restore it. Boys and their toys,” she added with an airy laugh.

Luca’s tight smile was his only response. I felt a pang of pity for him. It was obvious just from Veronica’s handbag that they were loaded. He probably could have had any car he wanted, brand new. He was probably used to having things handed to him. I had to admire that he wanted to work for something on his own, without his parents’ help.

“Sorry, we got off track. How did you two meet?” Veronica asked again.

“Wren is in charge of the Litha pageant,” Luca said.

“Actually, my friend Zale is directing it,” I said hurriedly. “I’m just helping out. Thank you again for letting us borrow the old costumes and props and stuff.”

Veronica waved my thanks away with a casual flick of her hand. “Heavens, no need to thank me, I’ve hardly ever set foot in that place. It’s my brother who keeps it running. I should be thanking you for putting some of that old junk to good use. I keep trying to convince my brother to clean those storage buildings out, but he’s such a packrat. Can’t bear to throw anything away, in case they might need it for a future production.”

“I think that’s like, a requirement for theater,” I said, laughing. “Every theater needs a lowkey hoarder in charge of inventory. At least, the amateur ones do.”

“Well, I can’t say I know anything about it,” Veronica said. “This is the first summer I’ve spent here since I was a little girl. Such a quaint little town. So… kitschy.” She reached out and picked up a candle shaped like a witch hat, and gave an amused if bewildered sort of sigh. I felt a sudden rush of defensiveness until I remembered that the Shadowkeep she was seeing wasn’t the real Shadowkeep. The kitschiness served an important purpose, and if she thought these silly souvenirs were all there was to our family’s shop, then they were doing their job.

“So, what is this festival all about, then? The town seems abuzz with it,” Veronica said.

“It’s for the summer solstice. There will be a sort of sidewalk festival, with food and shops setting up stalls outside. And then at night, they have the pageant, which sort of dramatizes an old story about the solstice. That’s the part I’ve been helping with,” I said.

“Fascinating,” Veronica said, with the air of someone listening to the mating habits of extraterrestrials, rather than the details of a town fair. It grated on me just a little, and I had to remind myself that I’d likely have thought it all rather strange only a few short weeks ago.

“Yeah, if only the script was fascinating,” I said, picking it up and brandishing it, “instead of cringy and badly written.”

“Oh, dear. Yes, I imagine these quaint small town productions leave something to be desired. If only we were hosting the playwrights’ festival this summer, you might be able to get some help with it.”

I sighed. “We’ll just have to deal with it, I guess. None of the adults seem to mind that it’s trite and corny. It’s a tradition, apparently,” I said. “It’s the first one I’ve ever been a part of that I can remember. I haven’t lived in Sedgwick Cove since I was a baby.”

“Well, you know, my grandmother came from Sedgwick Cove; but as far as I know, she never had anything much to do with all… this.” Again, she gestured around at all the merchandise with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Couldn’t wait to get out of this place, by all accounts. Small town girl desperate for big city life. She worked on Broadway, you know. Never a big star, but my grandfather made sure there was always a part for her somewhere. I don’t think she ever looked back.”

I just smiled, unsure of what to say.

“Still, I can see why the tourists like it, and thank goodness they do, or the playhouse wouldn’t still be thriving,” Veronica said, and then glanced at her Rolex. “Speaking of which, your uncle will be waiting for me, Luca. I’m sorry we can’t keep sightseeing. Can you bear to carry on without me?”

Luca rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll survive.”

Veronica threw him an air kiss and winked at him. “Don’t let her put a spell on you!” she said, and with a tinkling laugh, she swept from the store.

It took Luca a full five seconds to raise his eyes from the ground. “And there you have it. The Veronica Meyers experience. Sorry about that.”

“What are you apologizing for?” I asked. “She seemed… nice.”

“If by nice you mean overbearing and condescending, then sure, she’s nice,” Luca replied.

I suppose I must have looked surprised because Luca sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Wren. I shouldn’t be unloading my frustrations on you.”

“It’s fine,” I said automatically.

“It’s really not. It’s just… I came here this summer hoping to sort of… get a break from her, you know? She was telling the truth. She’s been here maybe twice in her whole life. She’s never shown the slightest interest in coming out here and leaving the city. She always has a million events and galas and business functions to attend for the family. I thought I could just have a quiet summer—hang at the beach, earn some money, just… find some space, you know? But then suddenly, a week ago she shows up in my room with a suitcase, and announces she’s coming, too.”

“Just the one suitcase?” I asked, smirking.

It worked. Luca’s face broke into a real smile. “Well, no. More like a nine-piece set of matching luggage. But you get the idea.”

“Look, I get it. This isn’t the summer I had in mind either,” I told him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“I thought I was going to spend my summer scooping ice cream and hanging with my friends in Portland. And now I’m here, permanently. My grandmother passed away. She sort of left me her house.”

“She left you her house? Aren’t you, like…”

“Sixteen? Yeah.”

“Whoa.”

“I know, right?”

Luca puffed his cheeks out, running a hand through his hair. “When my grandfather died, he left me a pocket watch and a coin collection.”

“Yeah, it was pretty intense, bequest-wise,” I admitted. I could have gotten into all the family drama it had caused, but I didn’t want to dump all my problems on him, either.

“So you just moved into it? By yourself?”

I laughed. “No, my mom and I moved in. And my aunts were already living there, so now we’re all there together. We’ve got a lot of history here—my family, I mean, the Vespers. And once we came back… well, let’s just say that Sedgwick Cove is one of those places that gets a hold on you and doesn’t let go.”

Luca nodded, not like he totally understood, but like he was trying to. “So now instead of scooping ice cream, you’re… casting spells?” he asked, pointing to the array of pre-bottled potions on the shelf behind me.

I smiled. “Not casting them. Just selling them,” I said. “Are you in the market?”

“Hmm. Got anything for overbearing mothers?” he asked.

I laughed. “Not in stock at the moment, but I’ll let you know if we get any in.”

He sighed theatrically. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you around. Will you be at the theater this week?”

I felt a little flutter in my chest, even as I told myself it was a completely normal question to ask someone. “Yeah, I’ll be there. We have just over a week to pull this together. Just listen for the sound of Zale having a mental breakdown, and I’ll probably be there.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around, then.”

“Yeah. See you,” I replied.

He smiled again and walked to the door. I forced myself to turn around and pretend to be busy at the counter, so that I wouldn’t just gawk at him as he walked down the street. I looked up at the wall behind the counter, and right into the gilt-framed mirror that hung there. A perfectly unremarkable face stared back: gray eyes behind tortoiseshell glasses, thin lips, narrow, freckled nose, and a messy bun piled on top, like a lopsided crown.

“Get real, Vesper,” I whispered.