Family Magic (30 page)

Jared parked the car and watched at me as I
undid my seatbelt. I reached for the door handle before I noticed
he stared at me. I looked back at him. In the dark of the car, I
couldn’t tell what was in his eyes.

“Syd,” he said. “Be careful tonight.”

“Good advice for everyone,” I answered.

“Seriously,” he said.

I debated, torn. I needed to tell someone,
who else was I going to share with?

“Thanks for the drive,” I said, and escaped
before I caved.

I made my way across the crushed grass
creased with the passage of multiple cars, weaving my way through
other late arrivals, headed for the center of the site. For once, I
was out of the path of the smoke and only had to deal with the
flickering glare as I walked. Just past it, I saw the coven
gathering, and not our usual number. My jaw dropped. I stopped
walking as I saw that every single member was there, all one
hundred and thirteen of them—minus the twins—including my
grandmother. Gram stood next to Mom, chewing something. I could
only assume someone thought to give her chocolate toffee to keep
her busy.

The whole coven never gathered. Okay, so they
did on holidays, but this wasn’t one. Why were they all there? I
shivered as I thought of the power about to be called. If anything
went wrong, it wouldn’t be pretty. Considering the state my mother
was in, I wasn’t sure if being there was such a good idea.

I wove my way past witches I hadn’t seen
since the last Sabbath and crossed the circle into the center of
the site. I could feel eyes on me, unfriendly eyes. I knew I hadn’t
been invited for a reason. Tough cookies. I ignored Dominic
Moromond’s glare as he spotted me, not even bothering to glance his
way. I felt relief when he made no attempt to stop me from going to
Mom.

The giant pentagram focus of the site glowed
with candles, different colors for each point, representing the
elements they stood for: blue for air, green for water, brown for
earth, red for fire and white for the spirit, the focal point of
the pentagram, near where my mother stood. I made my way over the
centerline of candles and to Mom. The part that was my mother was
missing. Couldn’t anyone else see it? Feel it? Panic rose inside me
as I searched the faces that surrounded us but no one seemed
concerned. Mom had been taken and the coven didn’t even notice. She
went back to staring out over the gathering while I desperately
tried to reach her

Nothing. Just a big wall of nothing.

I turned to go to Erica, to tell her, get her
to help when my sister slammed into me. She was very happy to see
me, throwing herself across the pentagram and wrapping her little
arms around my waist.

“Syd!” She cried. “You’re late!” She reeked
of scented ceremonial smoke and fast food.

I picked her up and hugged her, gesturing to
Erica, trying to be subtle. Erica frowned at me and shook her head
a little like I was supposed to just stand there and not cause any
trouble.

She had no idea what trouble was.

I remembered I had Meira in my arms. “Yeah,”
I said. “You guys left without me.”

She made a face. “Erica picked me up at
school,” she said. “Brought me right here. We’ve been getting ready
all day!” She glowed. “It was so fun. I got to have take-out and
they let me light the fire!”

There must have been something on my face,
because hers fell.

“Syd?” Her eyes were clear amber and very
serious. “What’s wrong?”

I put her down, heart falling. Erica picked
her up. Could she possibly be in on it? I couldn’t bring myself to
believe that but it did make me hesitate to go to her. “Just stay
with me, okay, Meems?” I suddenly felt very alone.

Joy gone, she clung to my hand. I could
almost taste her fear and felt bad about it, but only for an
instant of weakness. From what I could see, she should have been
afraid. I know I was.

I didn’t have time to try to talk to Mom
because the last of the witches stepped within their assigned
section of the pentagram. She closed the circle.

“My friends, my family, my coven,” she took
two steps forward toward the center, her voice carrying to every
person there. “We have come here tonight, on Samhain eve, to
cleanse ourselves of the evil power that attacked us and tried to
weaken us with its negative magic.”

I checked out the other members and saw only
rapt attention. I was determined I could find the traitor by
staring at each person, that their guilt would jump out at me. But
every single witch was caught up in the power of the family, the
huge and generous whole that made the Hayle coven the envy of the
witching world. I made a face at Batsheva’s rapture and caught
Quaid’s expression.

Okay, maybe one other person wasn’t caught up
in it either. We locked eyes as my mother went on.

“Call forth your magic, bring it to the
surface, share with your family so we may join as one and cleanse
our circle of this evil.” I could feel the wave of power building,
a slow, gentle thing, familiar from so many years of being forced
to endure these ceremonies. It felt like a Sabbath gathering,
despite the fact we were a day early. I wondered if it worked would
we be forced to do another dog and pony show again the next night?
Yes, a silly thing to worry about, but there it was.

I held back on purpose, mainly so no one
could blame me if something happened but also so I could feel what
was going on without being engulfed by it. That was why I picked up
the subtle thread my demon didn’t like, the familiar magic I’d
sensed twice before. I fought her to keep her under control, a
battle so all-consuming I almost missed the drama unfolding around
me.

It didn’t take long for the gathering to
guess something was terribly wrong. The calling felt unbalanced,
uneven, as though Mom’s ability to manipulate and shape it was
missing. I saw her face twist as I continued to struggle with my
demon, and knew my mother fought whoever took her over. I gathered
my demon’s attention and showed her what was happening. We had to
help her.

My demon understood. And slammed into my
mother so hard it gave Mom the shove she needed to get control
back.

I saw the light come back in her gaze, saw
the evil power vanish at the same time my demon went silent.

But it was already too late. The collective
energy rose unguided and unstable, despite Mom’s attempts to rein
it in. Fear shone on every face, terror even, as the spell, now
with a life of its own, drew more and more of itself free of the
witches in the circle, growing into a massive column of wild magic.
It rose into the air above us, hovering, writhing with life. Mom
stepped forward. I sensed she was close, so close to getting it
under control. Had she only another second, I know she could have
done it. But she didn’t have the time she needed.

Instead, she did the only thing she could.
She committed it to the elements and hoped for the best. By doing
so, the power would be diffused, absorbed by whichever one drew it.
The worst part about trusting natural forces was there was no way
to tell which of the four would take control. Air would work,
although the normals would get a show. There wasn’t any water
nearby the force could flow into. The bonfire would be ideal as it
was already burning and though that much of an infusion would cause
a massive explosion, the wards on the site would keep it contained
and protect the coven.

The only one that would be an issue, really,
was earth. We were tied so tightly to it, the force of the release
could do serious damage. Unfortunately for Mom, that was exactly
where it went. The thing surged and expanded above us and crashed
to the pentagram like a massive hammer, slamming down on the entire
site from point to point, extinguishing every candle at once. It
burst into nothing, recoiling violently back through the family and
into the ground.

I found myself on my back, feeling the
tingling of the soil beneath me as the last of the magic
dissipated. I knew if Mom hadn’t managed to channel it somewhere,
it would have destroyed us all. As it was, I felt like being
destroyed may have been the better choice.

Meira clutched my hand as I struggled to
catch my breath. I could hear crying and moans all around me as the
witches suffered from the recoil of power. I struggled to a sitting
position, feeling like I weighed a thousand pounds. I drew Meira to
me. She cried in my heavy arms. I saw Mom’s motionless body not far
from us and gathered what remaining strength I had. I slowly, so
slowly, pulled the two of us to our mother. She was crushed into
the ground, the earth around her indented with the weight of what
she did. I knew she channeled as much of it through herself as she
could. It saved the coven whether they knew it or not, but she paid
the price. She literally imprinted in the ground beneath her,
face-first in the dirt and grass.

I let go of Meira long enough to struggle
with her limp body. I managed finally to roll her over. I had a
panicked moment before she opened her eyes and looked at me.

I was never so happy to see her.

Mom pulled herself up, out of breath. Her
face twisted into horrible grief. She clutched my hand hard for
support. Our gazes locked.

“Syd,” she whispered. “What have I done?”

“Miriam!” Erica’s voice called, desperate and
terrified, taking my mother’s attention before I could answer.
“Jared!”

His body lay crumpled on the ground. Mom
struggled to rise but it was Batsheva who made it to Erica first,
who sent a surge to Jared and revived him.

I knew as I felt around the circle not
everyone there was going to be so lucky. As the stunned awareness
began to wear off, the wailing and weeping began. Too many of the
witches felt like the twins, alive but empty. Mom’s tears fell as
she sat there, looking around her but not really seeing with her
eyes. She was searching with her power. What she saw, what we both
saw, broke my mother’s heart.

It was Batsheva Moromond who broke her
will.

“How has this happened?” The portly woman
staggered toward us, naked shock on her face at the crumpled and
damaged mass that was the most powerful coven in the country.
“Where was your power, Miriam? Where was the Hayle strength to lead
us?”

The wailing and crying stopped. Everyone
still with us stared at my mother, glared at her. They demanded an
answer with that collective glare. There was such a heaviness to
them, a desperate anguish that needed to know what happened,
wanting to blame. I was terrified so much negative energy focused
on Mom.

I watched in awe as my mother, unbowed even
then, found reserves within herself and rose under the weight of
it.

***

When I felt Mom trying to stand, I helped
her. I stood next to her as she faced the coven and, more
specifically, Batsheva. I tried to feed her but she blocked me, so
I stopped. She wavered as she stood there, but her shoulders sat
square. She was herself. I couldn’t ask for more than that.

“Well?” Batsheva demanded, voice throbbing
with emotion. Her face twisted to a mask of grief. I thought she
was laying it on a little thick. “Explain yourself! Explain this
horror!”

Mom faced her, calm and poised. “I cannot,”
she said.

A breath rippled through the coven, a regret.
Batsheva seized it and used it like a weapon.

“You are our leader,” she spoke to them as
she did to Mom. “You were to keep us safe, protected. This
cleansing was your idea! We warned you,” she said, “attempting a
spell so powerful this close to Samhain was dangerous. But you
wouldn’t listen!”

The witches who could muttered, anger
growing, accusations building. I held on to my mother and prayed I
could protect her if it turned ugly.

But that wasn’t what Batsheva had in mind. In
fact, I think I knew what she was after, what she had been after
since the day I met her. Whether she was involved with the traitor
or just taking advantage of the situation, the result was the
same.

She wanted Mom’s job and she wouldn’t stop
until she had it.

Not that my mom was going to give up without
a fight.

“There is a reason it failed,” Mom spoke, her
voice carrying past the murmurs. Silence fell. Batsheva turned to
her, frowning.

“But you said…”

“I said,” Mom cut her off, “I didn’t know
what happened, and I don’t. But I know why.”

I could feel the coven wavering back toward
her. She pulled away from me and stood alone, turning slowly to
them as she spoke.

“There is a traitor among us,” Mom said, “who
sabotaged this ceremony and means to destroy us all.”

Fear rose again as they gasped. A ripple ran
through the gathering.

“Miriam,” Erica said, “who is it?”

Everyone looked to her as leader. I did,
even. I wanted an answer. I assumed she had one.

No such luck.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“And yet,” Batsheva seized on it, “there is a
traitor.” She used scorn like a whip as she went on. “This
mysterious traitor none of us has seen proof of. Only the
unfortunate bumbling of a witch who can no longer control her own
power. Or the power of her children.” I glared at her as she
pointed at me. Seemed like Batsheva learned a thing or two from her
darling husband. I refused to even glance his way.

“The traitor exists,” Mom said, her soft
voice again cutting through the mutters and heavy emotions. “And is
trying as we speak to separate us, to divide us.”

Batsheva played at being offended. “Are you
accusing me?”

“That’s not what I said,” Mom answered. “But
we need to stand together, now, to uncover the real truth before it
destroys us.”

Erica stood, helping Jared to his feet. “What
do you want us to do?”