The Coven

CHAPTER 13 Starlight

March 17, 1982

St. Paddy's Day in New York City. Below, the city is celebrating a holiday they imported from my home, but I cannot join in. Angus is out looking for work. I sit here by the window, crying, though the Goddess knows I have no more tears left.

Everything I knew and loved is gone. My village is burned to the ground. My ma and da are dead, though it's still hard for me to believe it. My little cat Dagda. My friends. Belwicket has been wiped out, our cauldrons broken, out brooms burned, out herbs turned to smoke above our heads.

How did this happen? Why didn't I fall victim as so many others did? Why did Angus and I alone survive?

I hate New York, hate everything about it. The noise blunts my ears. I can't smell any living thing. I can't smell the sea or hear it in the background like a lullaby. There are people everywhere, packed in tight, like sardines. The city is filthy; the people are rude and common. I ache foe my home.

There is no magick in this place.

And yet if there is no magick, surly there is no true evil, either?

— M.R.

We purified our circle with salt and then invoked earth, air, water, and fire with a bowl of salt, a stick of incense, a bowl of water, and a candle. Cal showed us the rune symbols for these elements, and we worked to memorize them.

"Let's try to raise some energy and focus it," said Cal. "We'll try to focus it in ourselves, and we'll limit its effects to a good night's sleep and general well-being. And does anyone have any particular problem they'd like help with?" He met my eyes, and I could tell we were both thinking of my parents. But Cal left it up to me to ask for help in front of everyone, and I said nothing.

"Like, help my stepsister quit being such a pain?" Sharon asked. I hadn't known she had a stepsister. I was between Jenna and Sharon, and their hands felt small and smooth in mine.

Cal laughed. "You can't ask to change others. But you could ask to make it easier for you to get along with her."

"My asthma's been acting up since it got colder," Jenna said. I remembered her coughing but hadn't known she had asthma. People like Jenna, Sharon, Bree—they ruled our school. I had never really considered that they might have problems and difficulties. Not until Wicca came into all our lives.

"Okay, Jenna's asthma," agreed Cal. "Anything else?"

None of us said anything.

Cal lowered his head and closed his eyes, and we did the same. The room was filled with our deep, even breathing, and little by little, as the minutes passed. I felt our breathing tune in to each other, becoming aligned so that we inhaled and exhaled together.

Then Cal's voice, rich and slightly rough, said:

"Blessed be the animals, the plants, and alt living things.

Blessed be the earth, the sky, the clouds, the rain.

Blessed be all people,

those within Wicca and those without.

Blessed be the Goddess and the God,

and all the spirits who help us.

Blessed be. We raise our hearts,

our voices, our spirits to the Goddess and the God."

As we began to move deasil, the words rose and fell in a pattern so that it became a song. We half skipped, half danced in our circle, and the chant became a joyous cry that filled the room, filled all the air around us. I was laughing, breathless, feeling happy and weightless and safe in this circle. Ethan was smiling but intent his face flushed and his corkscrew curls bouncing around his head. Sharon's silky black hair was flying, and she looked pretty and carefree. Jenna looked like a blond fairy queen, and Matt was dark and purposeful. Robbie moved with new grace and coordination as we spun foster and faster. The only thing I missed was Bree's face in the circle.

I felt the energy rise. It coiled around us, building and thickening and swirling in our circle. The living-room floor was warm and smooth beneath my socked feet, and I felt like if I let go of Jenna's and Sharon's hands, I would fly off through the ceiling into the sky. As I looked above me, still chanting the words, I saw the white ceiling waver and dissolve to show me the deep indigo night and the white and yellow stars popping out of the sky so brightly. Awestruck, I gazed upward, seeing the infinite possibilities of the universe where before there had been only a ceiling. I wanted to reach out and touch the stars, and without hesitating, I unclasped my hands and stretched my arms overhead.

At the same instant everyone else let go and threw their arms overhead, and the circle stopped where it was while the swirling energy continued to coil around us, stronger and stronger. I reached for the stars, feeling the energy pressing against my backbone.

"Take the energy into you!" Cal called, and automatically I pressed my clasped fist against my chest. I breathed in warmth and white light and felt my worries melt away. I swayed on my feet and once again tried to touch the stars. Reaching overhead, I felt myself brush a tiny, prickly firelight that was hot and sharp against my fingers. It felt like a star, and I brought down my hand.

With the light in my hand I gazed at the others, wondering if they could see it. Then Cal was at my side because I always channeled too much energy and had to ground myself afterward. But this time I felt fine—not too dizzy, not too sick, just happy and lighthearted and full of wonder.

"Whoa," Ethan whispered, his eyes on me.

"What is that?" asked Sharon.

"Morgan!" Jenna said in awe. Her breath sounded tight and strained, and she was breathing fast and shallowly. I turned to her. I felt like I could do anything.

Reaching out, I pressed the light against her chest. She gasped with a small "Ah!" and I traced a line from one side to the other beneath her collarbones. Closing my eyes, I flattened my hand on her breastbone and felt the starlight dissolve into her. She gasped again and staggered on her feet and Cal put out his hand but didn't touch me. Under my fingers I felt Jenna's lungs swell as she sucked in air. I felt the microscopic alveoli opening to admit oxygen, tiny capillaries absorbing the oxygen; I felt it as, from the smallest veins to the thick, ridged muscles of her bronchial tubes, each one expanded in a domino effect, loosening, relaxing, absorbing oxygen.

Jenna panted.

My eyes opened, and I smiled.

"I can breathe," Jenna said slowly, touching her chest. "I was starting to tighten up. I knew I'd need my inhaler after the circle, and I didn't want to use it in front of everyone." Jenna's eyes sought Matt, and he came to put his arm around her. "She opened up my lungs and put air in with that light," Jenna said, sounding dazed.

"Okay, stop," Cal said, gently taking my hands. "Quit touching things. Like on Samhain, maybe you should lie down and ground yourself."

I shook off his hands. "I don't want to ground myself," I said clearly. "I want to keep it." I flexed my fingers, wanting to touch something else, see what happened.

Cal looked at me. Something flickered in his eyes.

"I just want to keep this feeling." I explained.

"It can't stay forever," he said. "Energy doesn't linger—it needs to go somewhere. You don't want to go around zapping things."

I laughed. "I don't?"

"No," he assured me. Then he led me to a clear place on the polished wood floor, and I lat down, feeling the strength of the earth beneath my back, feeling the energy cease its whizzing around inside me, being absorbed by the earth's ancient embrace. In a few minutes I felt much more normal, less light-head and…I guess, less drunk. Or at least, that's what I imagined feeling drunk was like. I didn't have much practice with it.

"Why can she do this?" Matt asked, his arm still protectively around Jenna. Jenna was taking deep, experimental breaths.

"It's so easy," she marveled. "I feel so…so unconstrained."

Cal gave a wry chuckle. "It freaks me out too, sometimes. Morgan does things that would be amazing for a high priestess to do—someone with years and years of training and experience. She just has a lot of power, that's all."

"You called her a blood witch," Ethan remembered. "She's a blood witch, like you. But how is that?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, sitting up. "I'm sorry if I did something I shouldn't have—again. But I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I just wanted to fix Jenna's breathing. I don't want to talk about being a blood witch. Okay?"

Six pairs of eyes looked at me. The members of my coven nodded or said okay. Only in Cal's face did I read the message that we would definitely have to talk about it later.

"I'm hungry," complained Ethan. "Got any munchies?"

"Sure," said Matt, heading toward the kitchen.

"Too bad we can't go swimming again," Jenna said regretfully.

"We can't?" Cal asked with a wicked smile at me. "Why not? My house isn't that far away."

Cringing, I crossed my arms over my chest.

"No way," Sharon scoffed, to my relief. "Even if the water is heated, the air's way too cold. I don't want to freeze."

"Oh, well," Cal said. Matt came in with a bowl of popcorn, and he helped himself to a big fistful. "Maybe some other time."

When no one could see me, I made a face at him, and he laughed silently.

I leaned against him, feeling warm and happy. It had been an amazing, exhilarating circle, even without Bree.

My smile faded as I wondered where she and Raven were tonight and who they were with.