Chapter Eleven
There were days when Chrys wondered if her mother had pissed off another witch when she was pregnant and that witch had cursed her unborn child.
May she grow up bitter and lonely, doomed to walk the halls of high school in solitude. May she alone have to bear witness to the travesty of her peers’ fashion choices, the shallowness of their pop culture opinions, and the tediousness of their requests for teachers to repeat simple information that they would have gotten the first time around if they’d only donated a couple of brain cells to the cause. And finally, may she suffer the indignities of adolescence without the blissful obliviousness of the empty-headed or the funds to purchase high-quality concealer for the occasional zit.
Maybe that was a bit dramatic.
But sometimes it felt like the simplest explanation for her terrible luck.
Like today, for example. The hex she’d placed on Lily might have worked, but Chrys didn’t know for sure, and if it had worked, she hadn’t gotten to experience the gloriousness of the effects herself. All she knew was that something had happened because Lily hadn’t been at lunch, and a rumor had spread that she’d gone home sick with some mysterious illness.
Had it been too much to hope that someone could have caught whatever had happened on video? Apparently, the answer was yes. Lily was too popular to suffer such humiliation. Even the students who didn’t know she was a witch could pick up on the kind of vibes that said, You don’t want to mess with this one.
Still, as Chrys strode into the Historical Society building for witch school that evening, she hoped she might get some better information. Not being able to witness the hex’s effects herself was frustrating, but she deserved to revel in the juicy gossip, and there had to be gossip if she’d been successful. If Chrys was really lucky, Lily wouldn’t even be at school.
As for Lily, Chrys expected her to save face by laughing off the experience. Or, if not that, to glare furiously and defiantly, cowing people into silence.
Instead, when Chrys entered the classroom, Lily’s face was red and she was staring straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Somehow that seemed worse. Anyone who checked on her had their questions about her health responded to with terse answers.
Chrys’s hopes of discovering more information were essentially dashed.
She wondered if not wishing Lily well like the others marked her as guilty, but she decided acting so out of character would be far more damning. In the end, she kept her head down more than usual throughout class.
“Lily and Chrys, if you could both stay a few moments,”
Ms. LaPlant said when class ended.
“Your parents should be waiting downstairs. They’ve been meeting with Mr. Stephens.”
They what?
Dread filled Chrys’s gut. She hadn’t stopped to think whether anyone could prove she’d been behind the hex. They’d never been taught about hexing in school, so for all she knew, a hex could be traced. Shit.
She also hadn’t considered whether Lily would get her parents involved, and that had been a mistake. This was no longer a battle between the two of them, and with this new move, Chrys was seriously outclassed.
The Allertons were not people to mess with. Lily’s parents were rich and powerful, and they were heavily involved in running the Historical Society. If they could prove Chrys had hexed Lily, her life could get a whole lot worse. How, she wasn’t entirely sure, but her concern was less for herself and more for her mother, who didn’t need the grief.
The only upside to any of this was that Lily looked like she wanted to throw up, too. It made Chrys feel marginally better.
“Follow me,”
Ms. LaPlant said, gathering her keys and her tote bag. Lily started to protest, but Ms. LaPlant cut her off.
“We will discuss everything downstairs.”
The trip to the first floor was the longest two flights of stairs Chrys had ever taken. Her mother hadn’t said anything to her about a call from the Society, so someone must have reached out while Chrys was in class. Chrys didn’t like that at all. She’d had no warning, though possibly that was the point.
Ms. LaPlant led them into a comfy-looking lounge that Chrys had never been in before. Like all the rooms, it smelled faintly of herbs. It was filled with worn but plush chairs, framed old maps on the walls, and two men Chrys knew vaguely by sight.
The first was elderly, with gray hair and dark brown skin and a cane leaning next to his chair. She’d probably been told his name at one point, but she couldn’t recall it, though logic suggested he was the previously mentioned Mr. Stephens. All Chrys knew for sure was that he was often in the building and therefore was likely someone important.
The second man she’d also seen around often, without giving him much thought. Now there was no question in her mind who he was. He bore no easy-to-identify resemblance to Lily, but the way he held himself was every bit the same—self-important and stuck-up.
Chrys’s mother was there, too, her face drawn and tired. She and the men had been talking in low voices, but they cut off as Ms. LaPlant marched her and Lily into the room. Chrys caught her mom’s gaze for only a second, but she couldn’t hold it. She bit her lip and stared at her boots.
Lily’s father immediately turned on them.
“Why aren’t these students being taught how to defend and ward themselves—especially when they’re being taught very well how to hex each other?”
“All the students in this class were taught basic wards last year.”
Ms. LaPlant didn’t sound intimidated by the bluster.
“And no one is being taught how to hex. Not at school.”
“There was a very clear hex mark on my daughter’s tongue.”
Mr. Stephens cleared his throat.
“We are aware, Don. That’s why we’re here.”
He turned in Chrys and Lily’s direction, and Chrys braced herself.
“Chrys, Lily believes you were the one responsible for hexing her.”
When Chrys cast a glance in Lily’s direction, her intention to deny everything dissipated in a puff of smoke. Lily no longer looked surly or upset. She looked smug, like she was enjoying getting Chrys in trouble.
Something inside Chrys snapped.
“Yeah? Well, I believe she was responsible for me being attacked by a seagull last week, but I didn’t run off and accuse her of it without proof.”
The smugness slipped off Lily’s face.
“You attacked me with a book first!”
“All I did was make you drop a book after you insulted me.”
Chrys crossed her arms.
“You’ve had it in for me since you arrived.”
Lily’s eyes opened wide, and she sucked in a breath, like she hadn’t meant to say that. Then she turned her back on Chrys.
What in the world? Chrys shook her head, confusion distracting her from her fury.
“You’ve had it in for me since I arrived! If your stupid book snapped at you, I—”
“Lily, you did what?”
her father asked.
“Chrys?”
That was Chrys’s mom, sounding bewildered.
“Enough!”
Ms. LaPlant held up her hands. Chrys hadn’t thought Ms. LaPlant had it in her to raise her voice, but she did. The adults fell quiet, too.
Lily turned slowly, her face going white.
“It appears this has been going on awhile,”
Ms. LaPlant said. Her voice was back to normal, but she sounded exasperated as she rubbed her forehead.
“I don’t know what the source of this animosity is, but it is a terrible time of the year to indulge in such feelings. Intent matters, remember?”
Chrys said nothing, but Lily flinched.
Taking that as a yes, Ms. LaPlant continued.
“Today is the autumn equinox. Do you realize what that means?”
Chrys assumed it was a rhetorical question, but of course Lily had to jump in and answer like the teacher’s pet that she was.
“The veil between the material and metaphysical planes has started to fade and will continue to do so until it reaches its thinnest point at Samhain.”
“Exactly. Which means negative energies can intensify. Entities of the otherworldly plane will be drawn to them and may be able to manipulate them—and you. It’s the most dangerous and the most powerful time of the year to cast hexes. You both should know that.”
Lily’s fingers twitched at her side, distractingly, and Chrys had to resist the urge to grab her hand and hold her still.
“No more hexing will be tolerated,”
Ms. LaPlant said firmly.
“That goes for both of you. I don’t care who started it.”
With the smallest of wobbles, Mr. Stephens stood and reached for his cane.
“Since no permanent damage was done, I’ve discussed the matter with your parents, and the Society will handle this like we would any situation where a minor engaged in dangerous magic.”
What did that mean? Did witch school give detention? Could she be expelled? Dealing with whatever punishment the school handed out had to be better than dealing with the Allertons, but the possibility of exclusion reheated Chrys’s anger at Lily. She’d thought Lily would fight her own battles, but clearly she’d given her too much credit.
Lily’s father huffed.
“We’ve agreed, but if the matter isn’t dealt with in a way that Irene and I find appropriate, I will call a board meeting to discuss the issue.”
Mr. Stephens showed no signs of acknowledging the comment, continuing to focus on Chrys and Lily.
“First of all, one word of any sort of negative magic, and you’re both disqualified from the magic fair this year.”
Chrys dug her nails into her palms. How was this a fair threat? The grade-level winners received token prizes—a gift card to the Cauldron Supply or the local bookstore—but the prize for seniors was scholarship money, and not an insignificant amount. It wasn’t like Lily needed it, but Chrys could very much use it.
“Second of all.”
Mr. Stephens handed a key to Ms. LaPlant, and she beckoned Chrys and Lily to follow her.
Chrys shot Lily a discreet glance as they started moving, but Lily’s face was stony. If she was relieved that this was all she was being threatened with, she didn’t show it.
Chrys didn’t trust that this punishment held any meaning for Lily, and if it didn’t, she had to assume Lily would be out for revenge. Chrys was at a disadvantage, even if she anticipated as much. She kept her personal wards strong, but that hadn’t saved her from whatever Lily had done to make that seagull attack her. Lily’s magic was more powerful than Chrys had given her credit for.
Ms. LaPlant ushered them inside the Society’s library and turned on the lights. Although high-ranking Society members (no doubt people who said things like I will call a board meeting to discuss the issue) had keys and could come by whenever they pleased, the building was officially closed by this time of the evening. People like Chrys were around only for witch school, so she’d never been in the library this late before.
Despite her love for the building, the library at night was depressing. The heavy wood appeared oppressive. The spaces between the rows of bookshelves were too dark to make browsing easy, and the dim, old-fashioned table lamps would make reading or studying challenging. The air smelled more like decaying paper than old herbs.
In the light of day, it was perfect. Even the dust lent it a stately mood. Darkness was another story. Chrys’s nose itched, and she stifled a sneeze.
“Precisely,”
Ms. LaPlant said, wrinkling her own nose.
“We’ve noticed that fewer people have been spending time here over the last several years, and even fewer of them are our youngest members. One of the projects on the Society’s Building Maintenance Committee to-do list is to make this room more usable and inviting, and there’s no better time for that than in preparation for the new year at Samhain.”
“What’s not inviting about it?”
Chrys muttered sarcastically.
“It’s morbid in here,”
Lily said. Her brow was pinched, and Chrys wondered what she was worried about. That Ms. LaPlant would lock her in here and ruin her clothes with dust?
Ms. LaPlant glanced between them both.
“It’s too dark at night, and the paint is dingy. Everything could use a good dusting, too. Any additional punishments are between you and your parents, but as for the Society, this is going to be your task.”
“You want us to dust?”
Lily sounded so appalled that Chrys almost laughed. Only relief, and a small amount of confusion, kept her from probably getting in more trouble.
“Dust and paint,”
Ms. LaPlant said.
“The walls and all the trim. I expect it will take you several Saturdays of working together to get it done. Mr. Stephens is our librarian, and he’ll supervise you. He and your parents have already agreed on it.”
“Saturdays?”
Lily sounded even more horrified.
“Together?”
Chrys thought she was the only one focused on what was truly awful about this scenario. But then, she didn’t have a weekend social life to lose.
Ms. LaPlant sighed.
“Witches need to stick together. Aside from increased power, there are reasons we gather in communities. You don’t have to be best friends with everyone, but our strength is in our ties to one another. You’ll start this weekend, and maybe you’ll learn to coexist by the time it’s finished.”
Not likely, but Chrys’s mind was spinning.
The threat of being banned from the magic fair hung overhead, but for a brief moment, far worse fates had seemed possible—being banned from witch school entirely or having her powers suppressed, if that was possible. Giving up her Saturdays to paint would be annoying, having to spend the hours in Lily’s presence would be irritating, and Chrys figured she’d have to do 99 percent of the work because the witch princess would be useless, but this was not bad. Chrys was no great painter, but she had helped her mom paint their apartment.
How many Saturdays could it take?
Chrys wasn’t sure how much of these thoughts showed on her face, but Ms. LaPlant glanced between her and Lily’s expression of despair, and she seemed satisfied.
“I want you to take a minute to breathe, reflect, and apologize to each other. When you’re ready, come back to the study.”
As soon as Ms. LaPlant left, Lily let out a low, frustrated cry of agony.
“My party is this weekend! I’ve been planning it for two weeks! How am I going to be ready in time for it on Saturday night when I have to be here all day with you?”
Between the survivable punishment and Lily’s misery, Chrys was feeling almost cheerful.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you tattled.”
“Maybe you should have thought at all before you hexed me. Although it’s actually kind of flattering that you’d go to so much effort.”
“It was hardly any effort. Your wards just suck that much.”
That shot appeared to have hit, because Lily twitched.
“Maybe some of us aren’t obsessed with evil magic.”
Obsessed? Leave it to Lily to be overdramatic, to create a scene so she could star in it. Total popular-girl energy.
“You have some nerve. After you had a seagull attack me!”
“That wasn’t a hex.”
“Oh, so that makes it okay? Are we cool if I punch you because it’s not magic?”
“That is not even remotely the same. Oh my god, why are you like this?”
Lily grabbed a pen sitting on the table and threw it.
The pen bounced once against the table, hit Chrys in the arm, and clattered to the floor. Chrys stared at it, dumbfounded. It wasn’t clear if Lily had meant to throw it at her or had just thrown it in frustration and it happened to hit her, but either way, Chrys had tolerated enough. Power surged within her, sweeping away her better mood.
“Like what? I never did anything to you!”
“You’ve ruined everything for me from the moment you arrived—”
“I never even spoke to you—”
“Please! You’ve been out to get me since ninth grade! It’s some kind of twisted vendetta!”
Chrys was the one with a vendetta? Was Lily for real.
“I can’t believe you’re serious right now! That is the most pathetic—”
“You’re like some kind of demon—”
With nothing else to throw, Lily’s hands clenched into fists at her side, and the lights flickered.
The hairs on the back of Chrys’s neck stood up. The power in the room was making her skin tingle, much like it often did when she got too close to Lily. But this time, she understood the reason, and the magic in her blood responded as though challenged.
“You are so full of yourself, as if you own the island and valedictorian and—”
“I wish you’d never moved here! You don’t belong!”
“Fuck you!”
She had no more retorts left, no more quality counterarguments. The you don’t belong! unleashed a fury inside Chrys that couldn’t be put into better words. She flung those two out, barely. With them came a burst of power—her talent lashing out, searching for a way to inflict pain.
The two closest bookshelves shuddered.
Shit. She had to get out of here before she damaged something she didn’t want to damage. Something that didn’t include Lily.
Without another word, Chrys stomped out of the library to find her mother.