“Okay,” I said. “See you.” Watching their retreating figures, I couldn’t help feeling a little stab of jealousy. . and fear. Sure, Alisa had just covered for me now—but what if later she told Mary K. that the coven was dealing with powerful forces? What if she described what had happened on Saturday night?

Would my sister turn against me even more?

6. Restricted

I tried to talk to Morgan today. I told her that I was uncomfortable with some of magick being used in Kithic. So, naturally, Morgan said, “Oh, Alisa, thank you so much for telling me. I’m sure that if you’re uneasy, others in the coven must be, too. I’ll be sure to tone down my freakish witch powers so that we can all enjoy the simple, quiet magick of Wicca together. Without unleashing dark forces of the underworld over which we have no control.”

Yeah, right. Actually, what she said was more like, “Whatever. Too bad for you.”

So now I’ve said that I’m leaving Kithic. There’s only one problem. That means I actually have to leave Kithic. There’s a nursery rhyme that keeps repeating in my mind. I think my mom must have said it to me when I was little: “No beginning or no end to hearth, home, or friend.” It’s about belonging.

I feel like I belong in Kithic. But Morgan doesn’t care.

I wonder if other people in Kithic have really thought about what Morgan is doing. I mean, her powers are amazing. I guess it’s possible that everyone is so wrapped up in the mystique that they haven’t really bothered to think what she’s doing or where it might lead. Or maybe they have, but they just cover up better than I do.

It’s not that I think Morgan is evil. I just don’t think she realizes how dangerous she is. Maybe I should write a letter to town paper to warn people that this is happening. It feels kind of underhanded. But this is dangerous stuff. I feel that people have a right to know.

I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.

— Alisa

The bell over the door at Practical Magick jingled as I walked inside. Closing the door quickly against the cold, I breathed in the warm spicy scent of incense and the familiar smell of old books. Alyce looked up at me from behind the counter, and her face instantly broke into a smile. “Morgan,” she said, “you’ve got a visitor.”

There were two other people in the store, browsing through the herbs. “Is she here already?” I whispered as I walked to the counter.

Alyce nodded gravely. “In the back.”

I grimaced. That meant I was late. “Thanks.” I hurried past the tall wooden bookshelves toward the curtain that separated the rear of the store. I was irked that I couldn’t stop to chat with Alyce. Besides being the owner of Practical Magick, she was the leader of the Starlocket coven and a good friend. We’d been through a lot together these last few months.

“You’re late,” Erin said coolly as I pulled back the curtain and stepped into the combination storeroom-office.

“So I heard,” I replied, sliding into the folding chair across from hers. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and wasn’t in the best of moods.

Erin’s eyes flashed. “Morgan, I am here at the behest of the council. I’ve traveled a long way to get here,” she said. “And I’ve got less than two weeks to teach you everything I know about magickal defenses.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled to the table. Okay, so I was late. Was that the world’s biggest tragedy? Did she have to treat me like a five-year-old? It was bad enough that the reason I was late was that my English teacher had grabbed me on my way out of school and lectured me for twenty minutes about how I wasn’t "working up to potential.”

Erin leaned forward, and I felt compelled to look up at her. “There are some members of the council who put a great deal of stock in your powers,” she said in a voice that sounded almost like a purr or a growl. “But let me tell you something—those powers will never be anything but a dangerous toy until you learn to control them.”

There was half a moment while we stared at each other, and I felt Erin’s intensity like heat from a fire.

“Here we are!” said a voice. Suddenly the curtain was pulled back, and Alyce bustled in with a teapot and mugs. She glanced at Erin. “Licorice still your favorite?”

I looked from one to the other. “Do you two know each other already?” I asked.

“Of course,” Alyce said. “We’ve been friends for years.”

I tried to hide my surprise. They were friends? But they were such opposites—Erin seemed as hard as steel, while Alyce was about as hard as a featherbed.

“We haven’t seen each other in a long time, though,” Erin said, smiling at Alyce.

“Too long,” Alyce said. “Which reminds me. I’ve been saving something for you.” Pulling a key ring out of her pocket, she crossed to a heavy wooden desk at the back of the room. She opened one of the drawers and pulled out a large gray metal box. Then she chose another key, opened the box, and pulled out something large and flat and wrapped in a piece of dark cloth. When she came closer, I saw that it was a square of black silk. My pulse quickened. Black silk had strong blocking properties—it was often used to wrap magickal objects that might be dangerous. Alyce put the object on the table, then pulled the fabric away from it, revealing an ancient leather-bound book.

“Where did you get this?” Erin whispered. She’d gone pale.

“At a library sale, if you can believe it,” Alyce said. “About a year ago. I don’t think they had any idea what they were selling.”

I read the faded gold lettering on the cover. On the Containement of Magick, it said. “Harris Stoughton,” I said aloud, looking at the author’s name. It sounded vaguely familiar to me.

“A horrible man,” Erin said. “A witch who used hysteria to wipe out other witches.”

When she said that, I remembered where I’d heard the name before—from some of my reading on the Salem witch trials. I hadn’t read anything about his being a witch, though.

“I thought that you should have it,” Alyce said to Erin. “I don’t like keeping it here, but I don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands, either.”

Erin flipped through a few of the pages warily, as if the book were something dangerous, then snapped the cover closed. “It’s a rare book.” Looking up at Alyce, she added, “Thank you. A book like this can be dangerous, but it can also be useful.” Erin faced me. “The first rule of magickal defenses is ‘Know your enemy.’ ”

The bell over the front door jingled, and Alyce went to see to the customers.

Erin pushed herself up from the table and walked over to the curtain. Tracing her fingers around its edges, she muttered a harsh-sounding phrase. “Now no one will be able to hear us,” she explained when she saw my confused expression. “Ready?”

I stood up and followed her to the center of the room. We faced each other for a moment. In a flash Erin caught my wrist, and I felt a crackle of electricity ripple through me. But I had been expecting this move. Quickly I threw up a block, as Hunter had taught me. Instead of building, the energy quickly dissipated through my body. Where she held my wrist, I felt the energy die in Erin’s hand as well.

Erin stepped back. “That was good,” she said simply. “You know the divagnth. And you’re strong.”

Damn straight, I thought, feeling a rush of pride.

Erin took a step away from me. I took in her small form. I stood at least a full head taller than her. I felt great— strangely strong, physically powerful, as if I’d been pumping iron or something. Weird, I thought. But very cool.

“Things are not always as they appear,” Erin said. As I stood wondering what that meant, she suddenly seemed to grow taller. Her mouth elongated, and she smiled, revealing long sharp fangs, each as thick as my finger. I felt my pride evaporate as her shoulders broadened and her green eyes turned darker, glowing with a cruel light.