Broken Spell Read online

  Greta’s pale complexion contrasts with Yara’s. It’s weird seeing them together: a goth girl clad in black and a sunny Sister dressed as if it were summer.

  Yara waves to us, exposing an exquisite silver mermaid tattoo on her right arm. I glance at Drake, who is staring at the tattoo. His eyes then go straight to Greta, the silver moon inked on the back of her neck partially visible to him. I tug on his hand to snap him out of it.

  “Nice tats,” he says, trying to disguise his indiscretion. “Same color and everything.”

  “Yeah,” Greta says slowly, narrowing her eyes and touching the nape of her neck as if by instinct. “BFFs, you know?”

  Drake nods, unconvincingly.

  I turn to him. “Drake, why don’t you go check on the guys? See if they’re in trouble.”

  He looks at me, confused. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

  I purse my lips.

  “On second thought, they might need me,” Drake says in a hurry. “Nice to meet you.” He nods at Greta and Yara and leaves.

  Yara pulls out her phone and starts texting. She does it so quickly her fingers are a blur.

  “Is he a Knowing?” Greta asks.

  I nod. “Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you went to Ballard.”

  Greta shrugs. “This is my school. I just moved temporarily to Ballard to help with the Search. After you found the Singularity, I came back here. Thanks for finding her, by the way. I hated those snobs at Ballard.”

  “And Yara was responsible for Fremont?”

  “Uh-huh. Come on, let’s go. The bell is about to ring.”

  Greta moves to walk and holds my hand, pulling me with her. I don’t know how to react, so I just hold her hand back and walk beside her. I look back and see Yara still pounding the phone, following us with her eyes on the screen.

  A commotion at the front steps of the building stops us. Boulder is at the center of the gathering. Why am I not surprised?

  “Seriously? You’re coming here?” A big guy is yelling at Boulder. The guy’s oversized belly shows beneath his tight t-shirt. He is sweaty, his shaved head glistening even in the cold weather. A slightly smaller jock has his hand on the chest of the bigger guy, as if holding him back.

  Boulder makes an apologetic gesture. “It’s not like I had an option. There was a freaking earthquake.”

  Greta whispers to me. “That’s DeMarcus. He’s our center.”

  “Basketball?”

  “Football.”

  Boulder continues, “Dude, I’m off the team, okay? That good enough for you? Now let’s just go our separate ways.”

  DeMarcus points his finger at Boulder. “I don’t care. Because of you, we’ll be having classes there.” DeMarcus’s finger moves to the right of the building. Four portables sit on the football field.

  “Behind the portables?” Boulder asks.

  “Inside the portables, bro,” the smaller big guy answers.

  Sean laughs, and everybody looks at him. Boulder elbows him. Sean grabs his side and doubles over, letting out a grunt.

  Boulder puts his hand on his forehead and says in a calm voice, “Dude, you can hate me all you want, but you can’t blame me for that.”

  The bell rings before DeMarcus and his buddy can reply. The crowd starts to disperse. The two jocks give my friends murderous sideways glances before joining the throng. Some are going inside the building; others are going to the football field.

  Drake and Priscilla emerge from the other side of the crowd and wave to us.

  Greta says, “We don’t have enough space for you guys. We’re improvising with portables. The students—” Greta stops mid-sentence and whispers to me, her chin pointing at Priscilla. “Does she have Allure?”

  “She’s not a Sister,” I answer.

  Boulder looks around and sees us. “Come on, let’s go. Everyone already hates us; no need to make the teachers our enemies too.” He grabs the still bent-over Sean by the collar of his shirt and guides him to the building.

  “And who is this big guy?” Greta asks again.

  “A troublemaker. And a trouble magnet, too.”

  “Just my kind,” she says, showing me a wry smile.

  Chapter 10: Drake

  Skye may be right: Mona is a Sister, so my mother might be one too. The problem is that my father never talks about her.

  After I finish my homework, I head downstairs. Dad is watching Sportscenter. It’s rare that he has a free weeknight—he usually works late. I feel bad intruding on his downtime, but I need to know.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  He turns to me, surprised, and gestures for me to join him. “Hey, buddy.”

  We watch the Top Ten Plays in silence.

  During the break, Dad asks, “How’s the new school?”

  “Different. Still adjusting.”

  “At least the guys are going to Fremont with you. And Skye, too?”

  “Yep.”

  He pauses, waiting for me to expand on that. When I don’t, he asks, “Is the car running well?”

  “It is. It had a noise the other day, but Boulder fixed it. He said it may be something electrical. I need to check it out.”

  “Good.”

  Dad turns his attention to the TV. They’re talking about a possible Mariners trade.

  “I was thinking about Mom,” I blurt out.

  He faces me. “Yeah?” His voice carries no emotion.

  “I wanted to know more about her.” I look down for some reason. I hear him sigh.

  “We’ve had this talk before, buddy. We lost her pictures in the house fire. And I told you and Mona a lot about her already.”

  Shifting my body to face him, I say, “Yes. I know you met her in your last year of college. You dated two years, while she was getting her nursing degree, and then married. Her family didn’t show up for the wedding. I know her date of birth and that she loved chocolate ice cream.”

  “There you go. So?”

  “So it’s just facts. That’s like her Wikipedia page, Dad. That’s not who she was. Or is.”

  He looks at the TV again. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Why did Mom leave, Dad?”

  He clicks the remote, turning the TV off. Still not facing me, he says, “Why are you asking? Why now?”

  “We’ve never really talked about it.”

  “There’s not much to talk about. She left. She said she needed to do other things with her life.” He does a remarkable job of keeping his voice steady.

  “You must hate her.”

  “Not at all. If anything, I pity her.”

  “Pity her?”

  He finally looks at me. “I get to live with you guys. I got to see you grow up. You asked me about the reason she left. I don’t know. But it must have been pretty compelling for her to miss out on you and Mona.” Then he stands up. “I’m exhausted. Going to bed. Good night, buddy.”

  ***

  “Is that all that he said?” Skye asks.

  “Yep.”

  School’s over, but we linger in the parking lot. Most kids are already gone. It’s thirty-five degrees, but the sun is out, and we endure the cold to get a little light.

  “Can’t you get more from him?”

  “This is not my first try. The guy is a rock. And I don’t want to force it. It hurts him.”

  She taps my hand. “It was a good idea. But if he won’t talk… Is there anyone else we could ask? Your grandparents?”

  “My mother’s parents died before she met Dad. Maybe Dad’s parents would know something. But Nana and GG hate my mother for leaving. They are even more closed up than Dad.”

  “GG?”

  “That’s Grandpa George.” I recall a few awesome spring breaks we spent at Nana’s.

  Skye giggles.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You spaced out for like two minutes.”

  “I did not!”

  “You miss them, don’t you?”

  “They live in Boca, and they come eve
ry year on the Fourth of July. You’d like them. Nana is super nice, and GG is a fitness freak who looks almost Dad’s age. They never stop talking. I love it.”

  She gives me a peck on the cheek. “Maybe I’ll get to know them.”

  Her declaration implies something I never thought about.

  “I’d like that,” I say.

  Chapter 11: Skye

  “It all starts with relaxation, Mona.”

  We have not been having much progress in our first few training sessions. Mona is a dedicated student. Her eyes are trained on me; she listens to my instructions. But it is still not working.

  We’re deep into Saint Edward Park’s woods, on the Eastside. We deviated from the long trail that leads to the lake and found ourselves a nice little clearing away from curious ears. It wasn’t necessary: the park is almost deserted, even in late afternoon. Besides, we’re not doing any rituals today. The place is a former seminary. Maybe it will be conducive to peace, quietness, and meditation.

  She cranes her neck, making the bones crack with dull sounds that cause goose bumps on my arms. Then she closes her eyes and winces. Her body is still, but I notice her biting her lip.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Trying to relax, as you said.”

  “You may be trying too hard?”

  “I need to focus to be relaxed.”

  I chuckle. She looks at me, puzzled.

  “The whole point of relaxing is not focusing on anything,” I say. “Clear your mind. Feel the nature around us. See if you can sense the earth energies emanating from the ground. They may be faint, but they’re there.”

  She looks at the dirt in front of her, as if trying to see the energy. “Sorry. I can do it when I’m with Pain.”

  “You can relax when you’re hurting?”

  It’s her turn to chuckle. “No, silly. My Pain. My friend.”

  “Oh. Right. I’m not comfortable inviting her to our meetings for now. Not until you get the hang of it. Besides, you need to learn to do it by yourself.”

  Mona nods. She flexes her facial muscles, as if making faces. It works for her: her expression is calmer now. Or maybe she just needed a laugh.

  We stay still for a while. I watch her. Her breathing is steadier; her face devoid of worries. She’s got it. I close my own eyes and soon enter a state of meditation.

  It’s broken by a deep breath. I open my eyes to see Mona staring at me.

  “I think it worked.” I smile.

  “It did!” She shows me her watch. “Four minutes. It’s like I was passed out.”

  “What else did you feel?”

  “Not much. Just a kind of void. But then I was dying to see how much time had passed.”

  “With more training, you’ll notice the energy around you. Like our personal magic, but much fainter. Even I, with my True Sight, can only feel it when I’m meditating or doing a ritual.”

  She giggles. It’s great seeing her so happy. “And when do I get to do those? With real magic?”

  “In time. Don’t worry.” I tap her hand, reassuring her. “Now, do you know why we’re doing this?”

  “Relax to learn to meditate. Meditate so we can do rituals. Rituals so we can do spells and potions.”

  “Yes, that’s the practical purpose of it. But the Craft isn’t magic. The Craft is a way of life. You’re learning how to attune to the energies of the world. Everything carries its own energy. We respect life and Mother Earth. You learned that when you were practicing Wicca, didn’t you?”

  Mona stretches while she talks. “Uh-huh. Pain and I stumbled through Wicca, but we were getting better. At first, we just read a lot, but soon we started doing some stuff.”

  “So you probably already created your own rituals. But now that you’ve had your Daybreak, you cannot do it without my supervision. Do you understand why?”

  Her face gets gloomy. “Because I can release the Singularity’s energy and level a city.”

  “Well, I don’t expect anything that dramatic again. But you may release a suspiciously large amount of energy. Sisters could sense it and know something is off.”

  She nods, biting her lip.

  “Good, Mona. For now, just practice relaxation and meditation every morning and evening. See if you can do it in your bedroom.” I point to the ground. “This place is great to channel the energies, but for now we need to keep a low profile and make sure no one sees these sessions.”

  “Hiding.”

  “Just being careful, Mona. It will get better.”

  ***

  The coffeehouse I chose is way outside of Drake’s usual stops. Even though he knows I’m meeting Connor, I don’t want any mishaps.

  I was intrigued by Connor’s call asking for a meeting.

  He opens the door exactly at four p.m. One of his few good qualities is his punctuality. All eyes can’t help but look at him. Mostly female eyes. He notices the attention—and relishes it. He approaches my table and dares to kiss me on the cheek. I let him. It’s harmless.

  “How are you?” he asks.

  “I’m good. You?”

  He ignores my question. “You decided to stay in Seattle, then?”

  “For a while.”

  “I like it here.” He smirks, flaunting those impossibly white teeth.

  “So you asked to meet.” I want to get down to business soon. I don’t want to give Connor time to be charming.

  “Yes. It’s about the Search,” he says, lowering his voice. “It’s a procedural thing we haven’t got to yet.”

  “What is it?”

  “The covens need to take your report. Officially, I mean. It was supposed to be done in London, but since you’re staying, I can arrange for the Mother to come here.”

  “The Mother?”

  “Yes. Elsa Dunivant. Do you know her?”

  I freeze. I do know her. She’s one of the coven Priestesses. And one of her Charms is Truth. She’s a human lie detector.

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, nodding casually. “Do you think it’s okay for her to be traveling? I mean, at her age?”

  “She’s fine. She travels all the time.”

  I hope Mum’s acting chops have somehow been passed along to me. “Such a hassle. Is this really necessary?”

  Connor arches an eyebrow. “Well, yes. It’s important. Even for our historical records. It’s the Singularity we’re talking about. And you’re the only witness. I mean, Brianna is still in a coma and Jane is gone,” he says, making a waving gesture. “We only have your account, and even that was just a chat we had. We need to make it official.”

  I catch myself biting my lip. No reason to raise his suspicions. I say, “Sure. It makes sense. When is she coming?”

  “I’ll have to talk to our coven,” he says. But his eyes wander. He’s stalling.

  “Couldn’t you have told me this over the phone?”

  “Do you know if they serve machiattos here?”

  “Connor…”

  “I wanted to see you,” he blurts out.

  “Connor!” I repeat, now in an admonishing tone.

  He puts his hands up in front of him. “No, listen to me. I’ve been thinking about you. I miss you.”

  “You can’t be serious. You broke up with me, remember? I was a silly little girl—direct quote.”

  “I know, I know. You’re not anymore.”

  “Charming.”

  “No. I mean, I was wrong. And you proved it to me. You came here to help your coven. We’d been stuck in the Search for two years, and you found her in a few weeks. By yourself. You must admit, you’ve changed. Why can’t I?”

  “You’re right. I’ve changed. Now I would never fall for you again.” I don’t understand him. It’s clear that whatever we had once is gone. I thought we were both aware of that.

  “Skye, please. At least consider it. I know I didn’t behave well. But, come on. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”

  I stand up. “I make them all the time. For example, today I agreed
to come here.”

  While I walk to the door, I catch a glimpse of him shaking his head. He looks almost sincere.

  ***

  “How are things, Mum?”

  The connection is great. Mum is filming in some remote place in India, but she could be calling from the next house.

  “We’ve just arrived. Everybody’s so excited.”

  “Big cast?”

  “Yes, an ensemble, including two of my old friends from the Company. But I have the juiciest part. It’s the role of a lifetime, darling.”

  “That’s great! Do you see an award in the future?”

  Mum chuckles. “We don’t act for awards, you know that. However, the movie is generating Oscar buzz, yes. And I wouldn’t mind having another one. Mine is feeling lonely on our mantel.”

  I laugh. “I see.”

  “I mean it, Skye. It’s not about the awards, but another prize means guaranteed work for the next few years, maybe a pick of screenplays. In this business, you need to be in people’s minds. And I’m not getting any younger.”

  “You sure look young.”

  “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest? May the Goddess hear you. All right, they’re waving at me. We’re going to visit one of the locations. I have to go.”

  “Okay, Mum. Have fun!”

  “Kisses! I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “And I trust you,” she says before hanging up.

  I look at the phone, trying to guess the meaning of her parting words. That was weird. Anyway, I’m stoked for her. She has a blast when she’s on location, especially places she hasn’t visited yet.

  I turn around, and my happy face meets Gemma’s frowny one.

  “Hey, Aunt Gemma. Mum sends regards.”

  “I know, I talked to her yesterday. Skye, I had to tell her about you sneaking around with that boy.”

  “Oh.”

  She waits for me to expand on that, but I don’t know how to respond. It’s my business, but I don’t want to be rude.

  “You understand why I had to let her know, right? When you’re here, you’re my charge.”

  “Okay… Well, she didn’t mention it to me.”

  Gemma purses her lips. “Yes. She didn’t think much of it. She said she trusted you.”

  That explains Mum’s cryptic words. I smile involuntarily.