Read Page 14

The women sat in a circle in the basement, a candle flickering in the center. Acrid fumes laced the air. Cecily was used to the smells by now, but sometimes she wondered if they couldn’t use a scented candle to make their work atmosphere a bit more pleasant. Or would any new element disturb the energy? She’d have to ask.

Mom used a thin white switch to etch the rune patterns in the mixed ashes. She had a beautiful hand for it—precise and delicate—and Cecily envied her mother’s sure touch.Advertisement

Someday I’ll be that good, she promised herself.

Each woman sat with her daughter or daughters—save for Mrs. Pruitt, because Kathleen had skipped coven. That was unlike Kathleen, who normally liked to use those occasions as opportunities for embarrassing Cecily. Then again, Kathleen liked to use every occasion to embarrass somebody or other. Cecily was grateful for the brief break.

When the rune pattern was complete, Mom put something in front of the small pile of ashes—a single brown shoe, one that belonged to Cecily’s father. Everyone else put something in as well: a husband’s T-shirt, a father’s sunglasses. Cecily set Theo’s Game Boy atop the rest. Another couple flicks of the switch drew lines of ash around the pile of items, containing them within the spell.

“Time to anoint,” her mother said to the circle as a whole. The other moms all nodded, and their daughters—who ranged in age from Cecily’s down to a four-year-old in pigtails—scooted closer to get a better look. Then her mother added, “Try it, Cecily.”

Cecily had been performing this step in the spell for a couple of months now, and sometimes for harder spells than this. But she’d never done it in front of anyone but her mother before—not even for the coven at home. She saw the mothers trade glances among themselves, surprised and not necessarily approving. Most witches were a couple years older than Cecily before they were capable of handling that kind of power.

No pressure, she thought.

She picked up the vial they’d cooked up in the autoclave late last night. The deep purple liquid within was viscous—maybe more than was ideal—but at least it would be easier to pour. Cecily pulled out the stopper and refused to wrinkle her nose at the smell. She tipped the vial forward and deftly poured a thin stream into the shape of the rune, following her mother’s outline precisely. The grooves in the ash caught the fluid, and the rune of liquid began, ever so slightly, to glow.

“Very good,” her mother said. Cecily felt the tension in the room ease. Her mother took the candle—a part Cecily wasn’t very good at yet because she always lost her concentration when the heated wax singed her fingers. Mom didn’t flinch once as she dipped the flame toward the fluid—which caught fire.

For a moment the flames leaped high—still brilliant purple, still in the shape of the rune. Then the ash caught fire too, and a smoky cloud appeared above them. There, flickering in three dimensions, were the people they’d sought with the spyglass spell: all the fathers and brothers, out watching a baseball game at a nearby sports bar. Cecily caught a glimpse of Theo stealing an onion ring from Dad’s plate, and she nearly giggled.

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The next thing she saw, however, wiped the smile from her face.

There was Scott—somehow even more insanely gorgeous than he’d been the day before. His arm rested around Kathleen’s shoulders, and he stared at her adoringly as she filed her fingernails. Neither of them was paying any attention to the game.

Scott doesn’t even like sports, Cecily thought. The guy she’d gone with briefly in the spring had wanted to spend most weekend afternoons watching televised golf, which was pretty much in a nutshell why she wasn’t going out with him anymore. Not liking sports was virtually the only way in which Scott could’ve become more perfect, so naturally he’d gone and done it.

Finding a boyfriend who was perfect to the point of not liking sports was virtually the only way that Kathleen Pruitt could’ve become even more unbearable. As much as Cecily had always loathed Kathleen, she’d never envied her before.

No doubt Kathleen knew that Cecily was jealous, and was enjoying every second of it.

Maybe she doesn’t even like Scott that much, Cecily thought hopefully. Maybe she’s only with him to spite me.

But there wasn’t much chance of that. Although probably Kathleen would do anything to spite Cecily, any girl would like Scott.

Just when the sight of them together seemed to sear Cecily’s eyes, the image flickered out. The flames smothered, and where the ashes had been were only a few sprinkles of dust on the basement floor. A clean working area was the sign of a spell well cast. pqdm.com