8. Loss

September 30, 1971

It’s been almost a week since it happened. I prepared the ritual, lit the fire in the cauldron, called upon the Goddess and the God for strength, and prepared to destroy Harris Stonghton’s vile book. But I couldn’t do it.

It’s hard to describe exactly what I was feeling. Fear, yes. And revulsion for the book and its author. But I also felt a strange sense of longing. I suppose it’s my Rowanwand blood-the love of and hunger for knowledge that we are known for. At any rate, I simply couldn’t destroy the book and take this knowledge-even though it’s dark knowledge-out of the world forever. I had to find a safe place for it.

My first thought was to bury it behind the house. Earth can be very powerful-it can purify objects that have been spelled. But I didn’t want to run the risk that someone, or even some animal, might dig up the book and find it. Besides, the book itself hasn’t been spelled. It’s a book of dark spells, and there is no mountain of earth in the world that can purify it.

But I realized that there is a place in my very own house that is ringed with spells of obscurity… a secret place no one but initiated blood witches can find: my parent’s library. I decided to put it there for now and to warn the about the book as soon as possible. I hadn’t wanted to tell them about it for fear of getting Sam into trouble. Then again, I thought that things had gone far enough.

My parents keep their dark magick titles, of which they have quite a few, on the highest shelf in the library. I had to get a stool to reach it. I stood there for a moment, reading the title before me. Some of them were fairly chilling, and as I placed the Stonghton book among them, I had a deep sense of foreboding.

At the very moment that I slid the book in among the others, the reading lamp on the table in the corner began to rattle and shake. Then it started to move. Slowly at first, then gaining speed, it slid across the table and crashed to the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. It’s an earthquake, I though, and I wanted to believe it-although whoever heard of an earthquake in Gloucester? Besides, I would have felt the whole room shaking.

Finally I managed to calm breathing and opened my eyes. Everything was still, including the books on the top shelf. I left the library as quickly as possible and redrew the sigils in a hurry.

I was so scared that for a moment I considered doing a circle in my room to calm my nerves. But instead I went up to the widow’s walk and let the rhythmic crashing of the waves hypnotize me.

I have to be honest with myself. Lately magick has seemed terrifying instead of wonderful. For now, I think I’ll let nature be my religion.

— Sarah Curtis

“We have to go right now,” Erin said, checking her watch. “Hunter should be home, and Sky is due back from the record store in twenty minutes. She may even be there by the time we arrive.”

I nodded, mute. The incredible unspeaking Morgan. Part of me just couldn’t believe that this was actually happening, and another part of me grasped that it was vitally important and had to take place right away. I found myself pulled along by the strength of Erin’s will—following her like a stick caught in the current of the river.

Time seemed to slow down and everything around me felt surreal as Erin and I walked to my car. As I slid into my seat and turned the key in the ignition, I noticed that Erin’s feet weren’t touching the floor of the car. She looked ridiculously small on Das Boot’s enormous bench seat, like a doll in an easy chair. Pulling into traffic, I felt hyperaware of the cars around me. Somehow a fly had found its way into my car, and it buzzed loudly against the windshield.

Erin’s voice cut into my thoughts. “I won’t lie to you, Morgan,” she was saying. “The ceremony isn’t going to be easy.”

I interrupted her. “I’ve seen someone stripped of their powers,” I said with a shudder, remembering David Redstone.

“It isn’t like that,” Erin said quickly. “It’s unpleasant, but not at all like that. Reining puts limits on your powers, but it doesn’t take them away. You’ll still be able to do some small things, even some bigger things with the help of another, more powerful witch. And you can be unbound once you’ve gotten further in your training. Think of the reining as like a muzzle on a dog. Once the dog is taught not to bite, the muzzle can come off.”

I gripped the steering wheel. “It sounds horrible,” I said.

Erin turned and looked out the window. “It is,” she said softly. “But Hunter and Sky and I will be there to make it as comfortable for you as we can.”

Hunter. A small spark of hope flared in my chest and brought me back to reality. Hunter knew me—he knew I couldn’t possibly be responsible for this. He would convince Erin that my magick didn’t need to be reined. He would convince me.

He had to.

Sky was just striding up the front walk as we pulled into the driveway. She turned and gave us a little wave, as if she were happy to see us. Then we stepped out of the car and she saw our faces. Her smile vanished. Hunter appeared at the door. I guessed that he’d sensed us pull up.

“What is it?” Sky whispered to me as we walked up the front steps.

I didn’t respond. No one said anything as we took off our coats and hats. Hunter went into the kitchen to put on a kettle for tea, and Erin, Sky, and I followed him. As I sat down at their table, I willed myself to relax.

“There’s been another incident,” Erin announced. “Morgan and I were in the library when books began to fly off the shelves, and the entire bookcase nearly crashed down on her head.”

“Morgan?” Sky asked, leaning forward. Hunter turned pale.

“It would now seem that the common denominator for these incidents is Morgan,” Erin went on. “I am concerned that if we allow her magick to remain unchecked, we run the risk of someone getting hurt.”

“I don’t think so.” Hunter shook his head. “I’m almost certain that some of these incidents have been messages from my parents. I don’t know how I know it, but I feel it’s true.”

“Did you feel that what happened at the circle on Saturday was a message from your parents?” Erin asked.

I felt my heart beat once. Twice. Three times. “No,” Hunter replied.

“And this latest incident in the library wouldn’t have been, either,” Erin went on. “Hunter,” she said in a gentler tone, “it’s possible that you are receiving messages from your parents. What happened when we scried and what you described at the movie theater, even the figure in the fog— those things do sound like messages. It’s also possible that Morgan is causing these telekinetic incidents and that they’re entirely unrelated to what you’ve experienced. You’ve said yourself that she has very strong powers and that she isn’t a very skilled witch. . yet.”

“I don’t know.” Sky spoke up, surprising me. “Skilled or not, it seems to me that if Morgan was doing this, she’d feel it.”

I felt so grateful to her that I almost leaped up and hugged her.

“Who, then?” Erin demanded.

“Ciaran,” Hunter suggested.

Erin scoffed. “Hunter, you know as well as I do that proximity is important for telekinesis, even for a witch as strong as Ciaran. He has to be near her. He wouldn’t be able to control books in a library in Widow’s Vale when he’s in Spain—it’s impossible.”

“Well, you were at both Saturday’s circle and at the library, Erin,” I snapped. “And those have been the only two telekinetic incidents so far.”

Erin cocked an eyebrow. “Have they?” she demanded. My mind whirled, and I felt sick as I remembered my books leaping from my locker and scattering all over the floor. “Maybe not,” I admitted.