Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

GWEN

T he sun was setting as I stepped out my back door, clutching a rusty knife in one hand. There was an unsettling absence of a breeze. The river behind my house barely rippled, and beyond it, the dead trees stood as still as statues. My gaze paused for a second on the remnants of the old wooden bridge at the river's edge. I wondered if Valeria had burned it herself. Had her power been strong enough as a child? Or had her mother done it? I could still see the ire in Ms. Garcia's eyes the day she'd found us playing in the forest clearing. It occurred to me suddenly that tonight would be the first time I'd set foot in that clearing since.

Luke had avoided me since homecoming. And even when he met me at the Palms to go over the initiation, he'd kept things strictly business. He told me I should learn to float a dagger before the ritual, as if moving inanimate objects with magic was as easy as mastering a few notes on the recorder. He'd even demonstrated on a yellow number two pencil, never meeting my eyes as it hovered above his open palm.

I sat down and put the knife in front of me. He'd be here soon, but instead of practicing, I found myself idly tracing lines in the dirt. It'd been a week since Luke and Valeria showed up at my door, asking me to join their coven.

The logical part of my mind still couldn't believe any of this was real. But I'd felt the power inside me, the cool electricity at my fingertips. I could do things with that power. The bruise peeking out from Valeria's shirt as she stood in my doorway proved that.

If I'd read this tale in one of my novels, I would have fantasized about it for days. A lonely reject discovers she's a witch, and she's invited to join an elite circle of witches? It was something out of a dream. But as the light faded and the reality of my situation set in, I felt anxiety tighten its grip on my chest.

A crash sounded from inside the house as something made of glass tumbled off the kitchen table. My dad swore.

"Hey, Gwen!" he called. "Are we out of mustard?"

"I'll go shopping when I get paid on Thursday!" I shouted back.

"Thanks, hon. You keep this house running! What you want for dinner? We have bologna or…bologna."

"I ate at Diggins," I said, grimacing at the memory of the greasy burger I'd scarfed down after my shift. "I'm, uh…seeing a movie tonight. With some friends."

There was a confused silence, and I could practically see his brow furrow as he tried to decide if movie dates with friends had always been part of my routine. I'd certainly never mentioned them before, but for all he knew, I was hitting the town with my buddies every night while he was at the casino.

"Great," he said at last. "You have fun, sweetheart!"

"I will."

Guilt nagged at me, but I didn't dare tell him the truth. He needed me to be the steady one, the anchor in the chaotic sea that was his life. He would freak if I started ranting about magic and initiations. Still, I thought again of that long-ago scene— my dad and Valeria's mom at the river's edge, the lock of hair passing from his hand to hers. Now that I knew what the Garcias were—what I was—the recollection raised even more questions. Had it really happened? Or had it been another vivid dream with hidden meaning, like the one about the meteor?

Valeria had shown me the letter Petra found, the one that said Elizabeth Foster's powers had been revoked by the coven for some unknown reason. The discovery was disturbing, to say the least, but as I read, I understood why my magic felt like something had come back to me. The power my family had lost all those years ago was home.

Valeria also told me the coven's parents had mysteriously lost their magic right around the time I got mine back. The coincidence was strange. I knew at least half of them believed I was the cause of all this trouble. Perhaps I was, somehow. There was still so much I didn't know about my power. The possibilities were endless and frightening, and yet I had accepted Valeria's invitation. I had barely thought it over before blurting out my agreement.

I'd spent my life in unwelcome solitude, looking in on places I didn't belong. My power gave me a right to join the coven, so I was going to do just that. Even if its members didn't trust me. Even if I didn't trust some of them either.

Now, if I could just get this damn knife to float. I laid it in front of me again, its rust-specked blade reflecting the colors of the setting sun. I heard Luke's voice in my mind. It's elemental magic . Floating an object is about controlling the air around it . Easy for him to say.

I stared at the knife and the empty air above it, drawing what concentration I could from the sounds of nightfall around me. The blade shivered and rose. For one glorious second, the knife hovered a few inches from the ground. It shot up wildly before freefalling to rest tip-first in the earth.

I laid it flat to try again, but tires crunched on the driveway. Luke had arrived. Nervous energy shot through me as I walked around the house to meet him. He was leaning against the driver's side of his car, his jaw set. That strange stillness hung in the air, making it hard to breathe.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," he replied. "Ready?"

"Not so much. You wanna blow this thing off and go bowling or something?"

I giggled nervously, but he didn't even crack a smile. He reached in the back seat of his car and retrieved a black garment bag.

"You should put this on before we go," he told me. "Ceremonial robes. You know, tradition."

"Oh."

Suddenly, I realized that I hadn't changed after work. I was still wearing my Diggin's uniform, khakis and an oil-stained button-up covered in pictures of cartoon chickens. Luke Nichols was here to take me to an ancient, magical ritual, and I was dressed in fast-food chic. I took the robe and hurried inside to change. The fabric was an earthy brown, and it draped heavily over parts of me while leaving others more exposed than I would have dared only weeks ago.

I rushed past my dad and back out the door before he noticed my strange costume. I climbed into Luke's car, doing my best to keep the fabric from gapping between my boobs. He drove us east to the wide iron bridge downtown. The radio wasn't on, and the seconds crawled in silence.

I searched for meaning in the minute line of tension at his brow, the subtle downward turn of his lips. I wished he would talk to me. I wished he would look at me the way he had when we danced together, his dark blue eyes on mine like I was the only person in the room. Over the past two weeks, I'd come to believe in so many crazy things. Perhaps my only delusion was the idea that Luke Nichols had been interested in anything more than a fling on the dance floor.

As we turned onto Cascabel Road, I pushed the painful thought from my mind and focused on nothing but the emerging moon.

A minute later, a pair of ornate iron gates swung open, and we pulled into a long driveway. The house before us was strawberry red with swirly white trim everywhere. It looked like an expensive cake I might be scolded for tasting.

Valeria Garcia's house. In my wildest nightmares, I never thought I'd find myself here.

We climbed the steps as Valeria opened the door, revealing a world of velvet wallpaper, antique fainting couches, and armchairs accented in gold. I was so distracted by the migraine-inducing opulence, it took me a second to look at Valeria.

She wore a long robe with the same flowing sleeves as mine, only hers was red. Of course it was. Her hair fell in loose waves around her face, wilder than how she wore it to school. A gold crown rested on her head, looking so perfectly placed it seemed it had always been there. A long slit traveled up the left side of her skirt, and I could see the handle of a dagger strapped to her thigh. The sight of the knife caused a fresh wave of anxiety to wash over me. Was I ready for this?

Valeria shot us a crimson smile. "Hey, witches."

She moved aside, and I stepped into the gilded fever dream of her living room. Jayden, Max, Celeste, and Petra were already there. The mysterious rich kids from Cascabel Road stood before me in hooded robes, looking more mysterious than ever.

Then Lili Garcia herself emerged from a shadowy hallway and headed straight toward me. I hadn't known it was possible to be more nervous than I already was. Her face was symmetrical perfection like Valeria's, but her eyes were tired and red- rimmed. I would have paid a large sum of money to know what she was thinking. To my utter shock, she smiled.

"Welcome, Gwen," she said. "Can I get you anything? We have some snacks in the kitchen."

" Snacks ?" Valeria repeated, as if her mother had just begun speaking in tongues. "Since when do you serve snacks?"

"Um, no thanks, Ms. Garcia," I mumbled.

"Something to drink, then? We have sparkling water, orange juice?—"

"Shouldn't you get back to work, Mom? Weren't you drafting a vital email to our accountant or something?" Valeria interrupted, ushering her mother out of the living room.

I wondered at Ms. Garcia as she disappeared down the dark hall. She'd seemed almost…nice.

"You'll have to excuse her. She's been a little loopy since she lost her powers," Valeria said. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"No, I swear." I forced myself to ask at least one of the questions that had been keeping me up at night. "Valeria, why did you invite me to join the coven?"

"Give us a moment," she called to the others, grabbing me by a flowy sleeve and pulling me into the vast dining room. "I'm gonna be brutally honest," she informed me, as if this was somehow a deviation from the norm. "Some dark stuff went down here, and I think it's very possible you're at the bottom of it. But"—she lowered her voice—"I remember you as the girl who used to rescue spiders from rain puddles. So maybe you're not the type to mastermind an evil plot."

I felt my shoulders relax a little. It was the first time we'd ever spoken about our days in the forest. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Thanks?"

She smiled. "I'm not finished. What's that old saying? Keep your friends close, keep shady witches even closer? If I'm wrong and you're against us, then I damn well want you where I can see you. And hurt you."

I swallowed.

"Oh," she added, her eyes boring into mine. "And if you choose to keep dating Luke, just know that I won't make it easy for you."

"Hey, Gwen?" Jayden called from the living room.

"Yes?" I replied, alarmed at how shrill my voice sounded.

"Just making sure you're still alive," he called back. "She's alive, right, Val?"

"I was just giving Gwen a little pep talk," Valeria said, tugging me back to rejoin the others. "Does anyone have any burning questions for her before we begin?"

"What about your father?" Max said, his tone curious. "He's a Foster too. Is his magic back?"

Here in this strange, lavish home, it was hard to think about my dad. He hadn't acted any differently since the night the candles had ignited in my room. I still found him asleep on the couch in front of the TV most mornings, And I caught him leaving for the casino every night, as usual.

"No, he's…the same," I replied. The lavish decor seemed to press in around me.

"And you didn't know you were descended from a witch?" Petra inquired.

"No."

"Okay, but why should we believe you? I mean, what if you're a secret psychopath or something?" Celeste said, twirling a lock of long blond hair. "Should we really be jumping into this initiation? Maybe we could do, like, a trial membership."

They all stared at me—except for Luke, who seemed more interested in the darkening vista out the window. I longed to disappear the way I did at school, to retreat to a quiet corner until I could be alone again.

Instead, I pulled my robe tighter around me and said, "I know you all have a million questions about my magic and how I got it. Believe me, I do too. Until two weeks ago, I was just a girl with an abnormal interest in moon cycles. All I know is that this power feels like it belongs to me. And I want to learn to use it…for good."

"As high priestess, I've decided," Valeria said, her eyes narrowing on mine. "Gwen will join the coven. She'll learn to use her power. And I'll be watching her. Every step of the way."

"Let's just initiate her already," Petra groaned. "These robes are itchy."

With that, we shuffled out Valeria's back door and into the midst of those naked trees. Each coven member held a candle, the flames illuminating their solemn faces. At the clearing, the coven formed a circle facing me. In the fading light, I made out the fallen tree with the hollow where Valeria and I had left each other our little offerings. Even the moss over its mighty trunk was dead now.

"Who wishes to join our circle?" Valeria's voice rang clear and strong in the cold night air.

I responded the way Luke had instructed me to. "It is I, Gwen Foster, of witches' blood."

"Come forward."

I approached Valeria, regal in her crown and red robe. Here in the forest, she was more than a pretty schoolgirl. She was a force of nature, a wildfire burning before me.

"Prove yourself and become our sacred sister," she replied.

She reached for the garter at her thigh and withdrew the dagger. I'd figured the knife would be elaborately adorned like everything else in her house, but the wooden handle was surprisingly plain, its surface worn with time.

"This dagger has been in our coven since its inception," she said, holding it up for the circle to see. "It is an honor to be inducted with it."

She placed it on the ground at my feet. Cold metal glinted in the candlelight.

"Now let it hover at your breast and take your vows."

My legs shook. I thought back to the rusty knife from my kitchen, how it had darted wildly out of my control.

"Is there a problem?" Valeria said, still loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I—I can't do it," I told her. "I mean, I don't know how yet."

"I thought that might be the case," she said, smiling as if she'd anticipated this moment. "Most witches have years to practice before their initiation—normal witches, anyway. But don't worry. I'll do it for you."

Before I could speak, the knife rose threateningly and came to a stop with the blade pointed at my chest. It hovered there, suspended by Valeria's will, an inch from my heart. This was nothing new for her, I thought. She was always holding a metaphorical knife to some poor girl's heart.

Every muscle in my body tightened. She could kill me now with a glance, a passing thought. Perhaps she would.

"It would be better for you to fall upon this dagger than to enter this circle with fear in your heart," she said.

I forced myself to meet her gaze. The power inside me hummed. For one frightening moment, I imagined turning the blade in midair to point at her. Maybe I could send it flying in her direction with a flick of my wrist, with no more effort than it took to swat away a fly. The candlelight danced on the dagger's edge.

"How do you enter?" she demanded.

I spoke the words I'd rehearsed in my head for days. "With perfect love and perfect trust."

I knew what was coming next, but that didn't make it easier. The blade inched closer until its cool tip pierced my skin, right above the neckline of my robe. I managed not to scream as it cut a slow, painful figure above my heart. Blood spilled onto my bare skin, its wetness chilling me. After what seemed like forever, Valeria opened her palm, and the dagger floated mercifully back to her. She knelt and wiped it in the dirt as I took in the perfect red circle carved over my heart.

"Our union is etched in blood. Congratulations, Gwen Foster. You're one of us," Valeria declared.

A wave of euphoria washed over me, partly thanks to the pain, partly thanks to the strangeness of it all. I was a witch, damn it. And now I had a coven.

"All right!" Max applauded. His enthusiasm broke the tension, and we all felt the weight of the ritual leave us.

He bounded over and raised his hand to me. In the daze of blood loss, it took me a second to realize he expected me to high five him like I'd just scored a field goal. I slapped his palm, a silly smile spreading across my face.

Celeste greeted me with a curt double-cheek air kiss.

"Welcome," she said. "It's so great that our coven is accepting of, like, anybody."

"Congrats. Call me when you're ready to try some potions," said Jayden, wrapping me in a quick embrace.

"And call me if you wanna ditch class and summon the dead," Petra said.

Valeria finished fastening the knife to her thigh and gave me a chilly smile. "You did well."

"We did the thing. Now let's pop the ceremonial wine!" Petra announced.

They began to make their way back toward the glittering lights of Valeria's cake house. I didn't want any wine. My head was already swimming. I felt alive, powerful.

"Luke," I called as he started up the trail. "Wait!"

He stopped and turned to me as the others disappeared into the trees.

"I like you," I said over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. "When we kissed, I felt something real. Maybe you didn't, and that's okay. But?—"

"Gwen," he began, his features tightening.

"No, hear me out. You at least owe me that. We're going to be seeing a lot more of each other now. You have to stop avoiding me like—like I'm going to burn you if we touch or something."

"Okay, now hear me out," he replied. "I've been alone a long time. So long I stopped hoping for anything different."

"No you weren't. You were with Valeria," I retorted, indignation edging my voice.

He shook his head, his eyes downcast. "I tried. In the end, I realized there's no lonelier place than in the arms of someone who doesn't understand you. I figured being alone was my fate, you know? I accepted it. Then you showed up with your wit, your quiet beauty, your magic. Now it's like for the first time in my life, everything I was afraid to hope for is right in front of me. And it scares me more than I'd like."

"Luke." I stepped toward him, and he didn't move away.

"But I don't want to be afraid anymore, Gwen." He put a hand on my waist, pulling me closer. "I want you."

For a moment, I forgot to breathe. I thought I felt the crackle of electricity in the still night air.

"Okay," I said.

There were no more words, just his lips on mine. We stayed in the forest a long time before rejoining the others, his arms around me, my head against his chest, the waxing moon rising in the dark sky.