"Any plans for tonight?" my mom asked me.
"Cal's going to pick me up," I said. "Then we're going to Ethan's." Mom nodded, and I could almost see her weighing my boyfriend against Mary K.'s. On the one hand, Cal was Wiccan. On the other hand, he had never hurt me.
By the time Cal rang our doorbell, I had dressed in faded gray cords and the purple batik blouse he had given me for my birthday. I'd French braided my hair to the nape of my neck, then let the rest hang down. In the mirror I looked excited, pink cheeked, almost pretty: a vastly different creature than the Morgan I had been two months ago and a different Morgan than just two days ago. Now I knew I wasn't a murderer. I knew I wasn't guilty. I could breathe again, and enjoy life, without Hunter's death hanging over me.
"Hi!" I greeted Cal, shuffling into my coat. I said goodbye to my parents, and we walked down the salt-strewn pathway to the Explorer. In the dark car he leaned over and kissed me, and I welcomed his familiar touch, the faint scent of incense that clung to his jacket, the warmth of his skin.
"How's Mary K.?"
"So-so." I rocked my hand back and forth. I'd told him the gist of what had happened last night, omitting the Hunter part. "I've decided to fix it so that every time Bakker speaks, a toad or snake will slither from his mouth."
Cal laughed and turned onto the main street that would take us to Ethan's. "You are one bloodthirsty woman," he said. Then he flicked me a serious glance. "No spells, okay? Or at least please talk to me about them first."
"I'll try," I said with exaggerated virtue, and he laughed again.
He parked in back of Robbie's red Beetle outside Ethan's house and turned to me again. "I haven't seen you in days, it feels like." He looped his hand around my neck and pulled me closer for a breathless kiss.
"Just one day," I answered, kissing him back.
"I wanted to ask you—what did you think about my Seomar?"
"What's a shomar?"
"Seomar," Cal corrected my pronunciation. "It's a private place, usually used by one witch alone, to work magick Different from a place where you meet with others."
"Does every witch have one?" I asked.
"No. Quit evading the question. What did you think of mine?"
"Well, I found it sort of disturbing," I said. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I couldn't lie, either. "After a while I wanted to get out of there."
He nodded, then opened the car door and got out. We walked up the pavement to Ethan's small, split-level brick rambler. "That's natural," he said, not sounding offended. "I'm the only one who's worked there, and I've done some intense stuff. I'm not surprised it seemed a little uncomfortable." He sounded relieved. "You'll get used to it pretty fast."
He rang the doorbell while I wondered if I even wanted to get used to it.
"Hey, man," said Ethan. "Come on in."
This was the first time I'd been to Ethan's house: before we were coven mates, we'd never socialized in or out of school. Now I saw that his house was modest but tidy, the furniture worn but cared for. Suddenly two small apricot bundles skittered around the corner from the hall, barking wildly, and I backed up a little.
Jenna laughed from the couch. "Here, pup dogs," she called. The two doglets ran toward her, panting happily, and Jenna gave them each a tortilla chip. She'd obviously been here before and knew Ethan's dogs. Another surprise.
"I never figured you for Pomeranians," Cal told Ethan with a straight face.
"They're my mom's," Ethan said, scooping one under each arm and carrying them back down the hall.
Robbie came out of the kitchen, munching a chip. Matt arrived last, and we went downstairs to the basement, which had been finished to be a large family room.
"Is Sharon still out of town?" I asked, helping Ethan push back furniture.
"Yeah. In Philly," he said. He pushed one of his straggly ringlets out of his eyes.
Once the furniture was out of the way, Cal started unpacking his leather satchel, taking out his Wiccan tools.
"Hey, Jenna," Matt said, since she had ignored him upstairs. His usual pressed appearance had taken a downslide in the last few days: his hair was no longer brushed smooth, his clothes looked less carefully chosen.
Jenna met his gaze squarely, then turned away from him with no expression on her face. Matt flinched. I'd always thought of Jenna as being kind of needy and dependent on Matt, but now I was beginning to suspect that she'd always been the stronger one.
"Last Wednesday, I asked you to choose your correspondences," Cal said as we settled on the floor around him. "Did anyone have any success?"
Jenna nodded. "I think I did," she said, her voice firm.
"Let us have it," said Cal.
"My metal is silver," she said, showing us a silver bracelet on her wrist. "My stone is rose quartz. My season is spring. My sign is Pisces. My rune is Neid." She lifted her hand and drew Neid in the air. "That's all I have."
"That's plenty," said Cal. "Good work. Your rune, standing for delay and the need for patience, is very apt."
He fished in his satchel and took out a squarish chunk of rose quartz the size of an egg. It was pale pink, mostly clear, not milky, and inside were cracks and flaws that looked like broken windowpanes, trapped inside. I thought it looked like pink champagne, frozen In time. Cal handed it to Jenna. "This is for you. You'll use it in your spells."
"Thanks," Jenna said, looking deeply into it, pleased.
"Your rune, Neid, will also become important. For one thing, you can use it as a signature, either on your spells or even in notes and letters." Jenna nodded.
I sat forward, excited. This was cool stuff—this was what I really loved about Wicca. In my Wicca books the use of quartz in various spells had come up again and again. It had been used religiously for thousands of years. In particular, pink or rose quartz was used to promote love, peace, and healing. Jenna could use all three.
"Robbie?" Cal asked.
"Yeah," he said. "Well, I'm a Taurus, my rune is Eoh, the horse, which also symbolizes travel or change of some kind. My metal is copper. My herb is mugwort. My stone is emerald."
"Interesting." Cal grinned at us. "This is really interesting. You guys are doing a great job of feeling your way to your essences. Robbie, I didn't even associate emerald with you, but as soon as you said it, I thought, yeah, of course." He reached into his bag, rejecting several stones, then brought one out.
"This is a rough emerald," he said, holding it toward Robbie. It was about the size of a pat of butter, a dark, greenish lump in his hand. Robbie took it. "Don't get excited—it's not gem quality. No jeweler would buy it from you. Use it in good health," said Cal, and I was oddly reminded of taking communion at church. Cal went on, "Emerald is good for attracting love and prosperity, to strengthen the memory, to protect its user, and also to improve the eyesight."
Robbie turned and wiggled his eyebrows at me. Until about a month ago, he'd worn thick glasses. My healing potion had had the unexpected side benefit of perfecting his vision.
"So do you just have every stone possible in that bag?" Ethan asked.
Cal grinned. "Not every one. But I have one or two of the most typical."
I had been wondering the same thing myself. "Okay, Matt?" Cal prompted.
Matt swallowed. "I'm a Gemini," he said. "My rune is Jera. My stone is tourmaline."
"Jera, for karma, a cyclical nature, the seasons," said Cal. "Tourmaline."
"The kind with two colors," Matt said.
"They call that watermelon tourmaline," said Cal, and took one out. It looked like a hexagonal piece of quartz, about an inch and a half long and as thick as a pencil. It was green on one end, clear in the middle, and pink on the other end. Cal handed it to Matt, saying, "Wearing this balances the user. Use it in good health."