Changeling
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Most of my coven went to my school: Bree Warren and Robbie Gurevitch, my two best childhood friends, who had recently become a couple; Raven Meltzer, local bad girl and resident goth, who happened to be dating Hunter’s cousin, Sky Eventide; Jenna Ruiz; Matt Adler; Ethan Sharp; and Sharon Goodfine. The last two were a couple, and Jenna and Matt had once been a couple, too, but had broken up.
I was dreading seeing my friends. I didn’t know if any of them, aside from Bree and Robbie, knew about me and Hunter. I hadn’t wanted to see them Saturday, and I still didn’t want to see them. But I had no choice.
All of them, except for Alisa, were sitting, as usual, on the back stairs that led to the school’s basement. “Morgan,” Robbie greeted me. During our New York trip Robbie had come down on me about my casual misuse of magick. We had made up, bun things weren’t totally normal yet.
“Hey.” My nod included everyone. I popped the top on the Diet Coke I’d bought on my way to school and took a deep slurp. Act casual.
“So, how’s the bachelorette pad?” Bree asked with a smile.
“Fine. My folks went on a cruise, so I’ve got the place to myself,” I explained to the others. For an instant I thought of Hunter saying, “Let’s go in,” and my heart contracted.
“Party at Morgan’s house,” Jenna said, laughing; then her laugh turned into a cough. Bree patted her on the back and looked at me. This cold, damp weather made Jenna’s asthma worse.
“No, no party,” I said, starting to wake up as the caffeine coursed through my veins. “I can’t face the cleanup job after.”
Plus Mom would have a cow, I thought.
They laughed, and Bree wrapped her arms around Robbie’s knee. He looked cautiously pleased. He was crazy about Bree she seemed to care about him, and they’d been trying to hash out some kind of relationship for a while now. During our trip to New York, they seemed to have made some degree of progress.
“Sky missed you at Saturday’s circle,” said Sharon Her black hair swung in a thick curtain just past her shoulders. It was still a little odd to see her all cozy with Ethan, who had been one of the school’s biggest potheads until he’d found Wicca. Now he was clean and sober and in love with Sharon.
Raven snorted. “Sky takes everything too seriously.” Raven and Sky had been sort of a couple for the last few weeks, but Raven’s wandering eye had gotten her into trouble more than once.
Jenna coughed again, and I winced at the sound of her rattly indrawn breath. She looked at me hopefully. I had helped her before, but now I knew that even that kind of magick was forbidden to uninitiated witches. But how could I not help a friend? It seemed so harmless. I hesitated just a minute, then scooted closer to Jenna. She sat up straighter, already anticipating being able to breathe freely again.
I closed my eyes and sank quickly into a deep meditation. I focused in a healing white light and imagined myself grabbing a ribbon of this light out of the air. Then, opening my eyes, I brought my hand to Jenna’s back and pressed my palm flat against her thin amethyst sweater. I breathed out, willing the light into Jenna, letting it flow into her lungs, feeling her constricted airways relaxing and opening, all her thirsty cells soaking up the oxygen. After just a minute I took my hand away.
“Thanks, Morgan,” Jenna said, breathing deeply. “That works so much better than my inhaler.”
“You could also wear an amber bead on a silver chain around your neck,” Matt surprised us by saying. Seven heads swiveled to look at him. Since he’d cheated on Jenna with Raven, he’d been very quiet and kept a low profile. He always came to circles, always completed the assignments Hunter gave us, but he never participated beyond what was required. He looked embarrassed by the attention. “I’ve been doing some reading,” he mumbled. “Amber is good for breathing. So’s silver.”
Jenna looked at him solemnly, at the boy she’s loved for four years until he’s betrayed her. She gave a little nod, and then the morning bell rang. Time to get to class.
I sucked down the last of my Diet Coke an pitched the can into the recycling bin. Our group split up, and Bree and I headed toward our eleventh-grade homeroom. I wished I could tell her about Eoife McNabb and Ciaran and Hunter and everything I was facing. But thought I hadn’t been officially sworn to secrecy, I knew there was too much at stake to tell anyone who wasn’t involved. Not even Bree or Robbie.
“Have you been doing any readings lately?” I asked. Bree had been studying the tarot.
“Uh-huh.” Gracefully she swung her black leather backpack onto her shoulder. Bree was gorgeous. That was the first—and sometimes the only—thing anyone noticed about her. She was taller than me, slender, with a perfect figure. No zit ever dared to mar her skin, her eyes were large, coffee colored, and expressive, and she’s been born with a gift for choosing prefect clothes and makeup. Next to her I usually looked like I ought to have a tool belt strapped around my waist.
“Alyce helped me find another book at Practical Magick that has variant readings of some of the cards. It’s so interesting, the whole history of the cards and what they’ve meant according to what time period they were being read in. It’s the first thing in Wicca that I feel I can really relate to.”
“That’s great,” I said. Bree wasn’t a blood witch, so while Wicca and magick flowed so naturally to me, it didn’t always make it to her. I was glad she’d found something that felt meaningful.
It was hard to go to classes all day, being taught subjects like calc and American history, when I was wondering if my friends were going to be killed by a dark wave soon. It made it difficult to concentrate or to take what the teacher was saying seriously. I tried to keep myself mentally in classes, but I floated through the day, my mind on other things.
I caught up with Bree on the way to the parking lot after the last bell.
“Your dad out of town again?”
“As usual. I think it’s the same women, in Connecticut. So this makes a record for him—two months with the same person.”