Reckoning

11. Shatter

Juli 30, 1951

Father died of a heart attack five days ago. It came on suddenly, and no one was at home. Nothing could be done.

Hugh and I have stopped looking for a house. We will live here. Mother will need support and help with Tioma. To make matters worse, this has stirred up Oona. She shredded the curtains in the living room and broke the panes of glass in our front door. Mother and I watched as it happened. She wept endlessly. I need to be strong.

Goddess, I know you give, and you must take. I revere you, though my heart is broken.

— Aoibheann

"I came along," Charlie said, peeling off his sopping jacket as we stepped into the foyer. "I hope that's all right."

"Of course," Ruth said with a smile. "Always. I'll set another place."

"I'll get it," he said, slipping back toward the kitchen. "Don't worry about it, Ruth."

Ruth nodded, looking at me kindly. "Alisa, the bathroom is right by the front door. You can wash your hands and dry off a bit there."

"Thanks," I said. Ruth returned to the kitchen, and I found the powder room, which was just big enough to fit a toilet and a very small sink. I looked like a drowned rat. My hair was completely soaked, and it clung to my head. My clothes were getting really swampy. There were beeswax soap and a jar of salt crystals for washing hands. I used both, rubbing the crystals into my skin anxiously, as if I could impress my grandmother by having the cleanest hands of anyone she'd ever met. By the time I came out, I'd turned my hands red from the effort, and everyone was gathered in the dining room, waiting for me.

The room was filled with a long oval-shaped table and a massive sideboard, both of which looked like they were probably well over a century old. The table was heavy with food, served up on delicate pieces of blue and white china. There was an incredible-smelling roast, with big bowls of fluffy potatoes, asparagus, and roasted carrots. The gravy was so thick and aromatic that it had to be completely homemade, and the soft biscuits were already dripping with butter. From what I'd seen so far, the Curtises were very good cooks.

We all sat down. I had been put next to Sam. Charlie set his place next to Brigid. Evelyn and Ruth gad the opposite ends. With a snap of her fingers Evelyn lit the two tall taper candles in silver candlestick. I had a feeling that little trick was for my benefit.

"When are you returning home, Alisa?" Evelyn asked me, rather properly, as she passed Ruth the potatoes. Nice. I'd just gotten here, and she wanted to know when I was leaving.

"In… a few days." I said. "It's my spring break."

"Well," said Sam, "I hope you stay for our circle on Wednesday. It's our annual celebration of the founding of Ròiseal. We're getting together the night before as well, for Ruth's birthday. It's a big week."

"Yeah," Brigid agreed. "You have to come."

"I'd like that," I said, not really sure if that was true. Sam, Charlie, Brigid, and Ruth were great—but Evelyn was so seriously scary that I had to wonder how long I really wanted to stay here. Well, at least the circle on Wednesday gave me something to plan around.

Evelyn said nothing, just eyed the progress of the food around the table. When everyone had filled their plates, she nodded, and I saw others take up their silverware. I followed suit. My mother hadn't mentioned how formal the family dinners were. She probably hadn't noticed. Unlike me, she'd had no Hilary leaving the table to barf every fifteen minutes. She had no basis for comparison.

Evelyn started talking again but to everyone but me. She asked Charlie about school, his job, his father, and his plans for college. She asked Brigid if anything interesting had happened at the shop and how her training was going.

"Brigid has been training with a healer," Sam explained to me, attempting to include me into the converstation.

"That's great," I said to Brigid, who smiled proudly. "Do you need to do a lot of studying?"

"Some," she said. "A lot of it is exercises in channeling energy. Then you add the herbs and the oils, but only after you learn to feel out the problem or injury."

"You wouldn't understand, Alisa," Evelyn said, turning to me. "It involves magick."

Charlie looked at me meaningfully. I could tell he was wondering of one of us should tell them about my powers. I shook my head quickly. I really didn't want to get into it with them. He got the message and opted to change the course of the conversation.

"So," he said, "you're from Texas, right?" I'd just told him that this afternoon.

"That's right," I said, breaking open a steamy biscuit. "That's where I was born. We lived there until recently."

"How do you like the winters up here?" Sam asked cheerfully.

"I don't," I said with a smile, "except for the snow. I like snow, but my father can't drive in it. He never learned how. So if it even flurries, my future stepmont—mother has to drive. If she's not home, we're stuck."

A polite chuckle from everyone but Evelyn, who was communing with her roasted carrots. Sam, Ruth, Charlie, and Brigid continued to ask me questions about my life. For the most part they were just making polite conversations, not going into anything too deeply. Evelyn pointedly said nothing. I noticed all of the others giving her sideway glances, but these didn't seem to penetrate her steely exterior. She wasn't interested in talking to me. Period.

I had just finished telling them a bit about my dad's job and my grandparents in Buenos Aires when Evelyn suddenly lifted her head and focused on me, hard and fast.

"How does your father feel about the craft?" she said.

"The craft?" I repeated. "You mean Wicca?"

"I do."

"I don't think he's happy about my involvement with it," I answered honestly. "But he doesn't really know that much about it. I think he assumes it's a fad at our high school."

"A fad at your high school?"

"A lot of my friends are in my coven." I explained, gripping my silverware fearfully. "He just knows that's where I go on Saturday's. We rotate hosting the circle, although I probably wont be hosting one. I bring snacks though."

"Snacks are good," Sam said with a nod. "Witches love snacks, especially sweets."

"So you contribute snacks at Wicca circles," she said.

This was a blatant twisting of my words, designed to make me look like a fool. I couldn't believe it. It was so unnecessary, this quiet violent behavior. She was so composed, passing around her roast and her gravy and just stinging the hell out of her granddaughter. Around me I felt these little tendrils of emotions as the others reached out to me. That was nice of them, but it didn't really take away the painful reality of the situation.

Then, in with those gestures of sympathy, something else came along. It wasn't in sound—but somehow it was as clear to me as if someone was shouting in my ear.

Something is wrong.

What the hell was that? A vicious chill ran all though my body, as if someone had just plugged an IV of ice water into my veins. There was a creaking sound and a snap of wind. Before I knew what was happening, Charlie jumped up and pushed Brigid away from the table.

"Ruth!" he shouted, throwing out his hand and pointing at her. A bolt of energy, pale white, came from his hand and threw Ruth back toward the wall. In the same second all the lights in the room went out in a cloud of electric sparks as the chandelier above us broke free and crashed down onto the table, shattering glass and splintering wood. The snapped wires danced above our heads like angry snakes, still pulsing with current. Evelyn, already on her feet, held up her hand and made them still. With another flash of movement she deadened all the sparks that still came from the chandelier. Now all was dark, and acrid burning smalls hung in the air.

"Is everyone all right?" Charlie called.

"I am," I said, my voice shaking. "Sam is."

Evelyn snapped to light some more candles an the sideboard. I could see that Ruth had been thrown far enough to spare her head, but her arms had still been too close. The thing had come down on them, pinning her to the table. Brigid was by her mothers side, crying, mumbling spells that had no visible effect. Ruth looked like she was in too much pain to speak. Her face was covered in tiny bloody trails, probably slices from the flying glass.

Sam joined Charlie, who had uttered a quick spell that seemed to make the heavy, tinkling fixture a little easier to lift. They gingerly moved it away from Ruth, taking great pains not to further her injury. Brigid started running her hands over Ruth, obviously trying to do some healing work, but Evelyn came and took her shoulder.

"Go start the car, Brigid," she said. "She needs to go to the hospital. Charlie, can you carry her?"

Charlie nodded and ran for his jacket.

"I think we should call the council," Sam said. "This had gone far enough."

"I know a Seeker," I found myself saying. "If I call him, he could be here in a few hours."

Evelyn looked at Sam and looked in my direction.

"I think you'd better leave," she said. "We'll take her to the hospital."

Charlie came back just in time to catch the tail end of this conversation. His eyebrows rose, and his naturally cheerful expression faded into one of surprised disgust. I had the feeling if the situation hadn't been so dire, he might have spoken up on my behalf. But this wasn't the time. He bent down and picked Ruth up in a cradle lift. She quietly wept in pain and fear, and I heard him reassuring her as he took her through the hall to the door.

Sam, thunderstruck at our dismissal, stood there staring at his mother. She turned on her heel and followed Charlie down the hall. Sam put his arm around my shoulders and led me through the front door. We stood on the porch and watched as Brigid pulled out and sped the car down the street and out of sight. Sam quietly pulled a key from his pocked and locked the door.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he said.

"I'm fine," I assured him. "What about you?"

"It could have killed her," he said, instead of answering what I had asked. "Thank the Goddess Charlie's quick."

We got into his car. For a moment Sam just sat in the driver's seat, hands on the steering wheel, looking too tense to put the key in the ignition.

"Evelyn seemed angry when I mentioned calling a Seeker," I said. "Why?"

"Not everyone likes the council," he answered, his expression dark. I got the feeling this was a regular bone of contention. "Some people are offended that one group of witches should take it upon themselves to govern other witches, to pass judgment. I think the council has done some very good work. We could use their help."

He sighed, beat a little rhythm onto the steering wheel, then started the car. I looked out at the people walking along the beach path and heading to the pubs for the evening. Apparently some people in this town had normal lives.

"Charlie and Brigid told me about Oona," I said. Sam glanced over at me.

"They did?" he said. "Good. I was wondering how to explain what just happened."

"Stuff like that has happened before?" I asked.

"This was the worst so far," he replied. "But the phenomena have been getting more serious just lately. I certainly seems my mother wants to wait until someone gets killed before she'll ask for help."

His undercurrent of rage was palpable, so I fell silent and let him have a few minutes to think things over.

"I'm sorry, Alisa," he said just as we pulled into his driveway. "I'm sorry about the way your grandmother treated you. I don't even know what to say about it."

"It's like you said, I guess," I answered, trying to be diplomatic. "It's just strange to have me show up."

"Still, she has no right to behave like that. I just want you to know that she and I feel very differently about your being here. You can stay with me as long as you like—and as long as your dads lets you."

This triggered my memory. Twenty-four hours… the watch sigil on my neck. I had to call Morgan.

"Oh," I said, as casually as I could, "would it be all right if I used your phone? I just need to check in. It's long distance, but I'll be quick."

"Take your time," Sam said. "I'm sure your dad would like an update."

A strange expression crossed his face, but I decided not to try and read into it too much. For all I knew, Sam had had been onto me from the first.

"I leave for work pretty early in the morning," he said. "Sleep in. I'll leave you the keys so you can come and go as you please. I'll be home around five. We'll do something different tomorrow night, like see a movie."

"Thanks," I said. "That would be great."

Astrophe and Mandu pounced on us the moment we stepped into the door. Sam fed them, then went upstairs. I took the phone into the kitchen for some privacy. I got lucky. Morgan answered, not Mary K.

"It's me," I said. "Alisa. I know I'm almost out of time, but I made it."

"Oh, hi…," she said casually. I heard her quickly moving into a quieter place and shutting a door. "Alisa," she said in a low voice, "how are you? Is everything okay?"

"Um," I said hesitantly. "A little weird, actually. My uncle is great. My grandmother looks at me like I'm a escaped convict that is hiding in her house. And there's some kind of killer ghost on the loose…"

"What?"

I told her the grim tales as it unfolded so far.

"You were right," she said. "Something weird was definitely going on up there. Do you think this is what the dreams were about?"

"I don't know," I said as Astrophe leapt into my lap. "I'm going to have to stay here a few more days to find out. I figure I have spring break week, at least. So, how bad is it down there?"

"Well," she said with a sigh, "your dad is upset. Frantic, actually. He called here about an hour after I got back." My stomach turned. "I also told Hunter what happened," she continued. "He understands what you're doing, but he's really worried, too. He'll be glad to know you've called."

I had to promise to call back soon before she let me get off the phone. You can always get out of something your parents try to make you do, but when a powerful witch puts a sigil on your neck, you're pretty much stuck.

A while later, after I had settled down for the night on Sam's couch and was flipping through my mother's Book of Shadows in preparation for going to sleep, the phone rang. After a minute Sam called down for me to pick up the phone.

"Hey," said a voice. "Sorry to be calling so late."

It was Charlie. He sounded tired, and I could hear him climbing into bed as he spoke. Thank God he couldn't see me—I was grinning like an idiot. Charlie was calling me!

"I just thought you might like to know," he went on, "Ruth's arm is broken, but she is okay otherwise. Banged up and upset, of course, but intact."

"I–I'm glad," I said, stuttering in my excitement. "I mean, I'm glad that she'll be all right."

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me? It didn't land on me."

"The chandelier didn't, no," he said. "But that whole dinner was kind of rough."

"Oh. I'm fine," I said, pretty unconvincingly. "No problem."

"I guess you haven't realized yet that it's pretty much useless to lie to witches," he said.

Actually, that much I had figured out on my own. I knew that most other witches could read me like a book. But what surprised me was that I could read him as well, and his concern amazed me—it was deep. Deep to the point that I could feel it all the way across the town, physically, as if a warm embrace could travel down the telephone line. "It wasn't the welcome I wanted," I confessed. "But it was nice that you were there. Thanks for coming."

He let the line go quiet for a moment. He didn't try to tell me that it would all be fine, because it didn't appear that it would be.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"Sam's working," I said, throwing my legs over the top of the couch and hanging upside down. "I don't know. Staying here, I guess. I don't think Evelyn wants to have me over anytime soon"

"Want some company? We're on spring break, too, and I have a day off from the shop."

A whole day with Charlie? I couldn't think of anything I wanted more. But was that weird? This was my cousin's boyfriend. Should I be spending that much time with him?

"What about Brigid?" I asked. "Doesn't she have off from school, too?"

"She does," he said, "but she is working." When I didn't respond straight away, he came back a little nervously. "We don't have to," he said. "I just thought…"

What the hell was wrong with me? Just because Charlie made me weak at the knees didn't mean he was going to ditch my cousin and ran off with me.

"No, no," I backpedaled quickly. "I want to. I mean, I'd like to. Actually, I'd like to so some research on my background. There's a lot of stuff I have questions about, family stuff. There's a library my mom keeps talking about in her Book of Shadows. It's in the house. That would be perfect, but it sounds like it's a secret."

"Research!" he said. "That I can help you with. As for the library, I've never seen it, but I'm sure there is one. All Rowanwands have a collection of books somewhere, and as head of the coven, I'm sure Evelyn has thousands of books. The door is probably spelled, so you can't see it unless someone shows you where it is. I'll bet we can find it. It might take a while, but it can be done."

"How?"

"Spells leave traces. There'll be runes or sigils to mark the doorway. We'll just need to narrow down the area of the house where to look because it can take a long time to find them. Does she say anything about where it might be?"

By now I knew the book almost by heart, and I automatically flipped through the pages that mentioned the family library.

"Well," I said, finding a page, "She says one that that she was writing in the study, and then she went down to the library."

"So it's in the basement," he said. "Great. That's where we'll start."

"Start?"

"We're going to go in there and find it," he said matter-of-factly. "If Evelyn's not willing to help you, I am. I'll pick you up first thing in the morning."