I could feel gratitude emanating from her as if it were my own. Who knows, it may have been a combination of what we were both feeling. But it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that our coven had someone who could be a conduit for the other side. And that was an invaluable resource, now that we no longer had access to the elders.
I got up from the couch and smoothed down my cashmere pants, while balancing on some dangerously high wedges. Seeing Emory’s powers in action had kind of boggled my mind, and I needed to think about how this could factor into what we’d be doing here at the cabin. I started to walk away, but Emory called me back.
“Hadley? There’s one more thing,” she said, looking me straight in the eyes. “Your mom’s here too, and she’s being really loud about something. She says it’s important that you know this.”
My heart started to race and I looked around as if I would suddenly be able to see her standing with her hands on her hips, waiting for me to pay attention. I hadn’t expected any more messages from my mom, since I’d had the dream the day before. I figured she’d said all she needed to then.
Or maybe I just hadn’t been listening well enough.
“She says that we have to start training. That we’re not ready for what’s coming,” Emory said seriously. Her eyes shifted to a place just over my right shoulder, which caused me to look back too. All I saw was a wall full of family photos surrounding the words painted in gold: “Breathe. Relax. Live.” It had been one of my dad’s favorite sayings.
I turned back to Emory, fully believing that my mom was in the cabin with us. My eyes began to well, but I forced the tears down. I could cry later.
“Hadley, she says that you can’t trust everyone. That there are people you’ll think are good, but they aren’t. She says sometimes you have to listen to your head and not to your heart. Never underestimate your enemies, she says. It will be our downfall.”
“Wait, who can’t I trust?” I asked her, whispering now in case others walked in. If members of our coven had ulterior motives, I couldn’t risk having them know we knew about them.
Emory squinted and then began to wildly look all around us. Finally she settled back on my face. “I’m sorry. She’s gone.”
The depth of my sadness upon hearing this surprised me. It wasn’t like I was even talking to her or seeing her myself, but just knowing that she’d been there and then was gone was like losing her all over again.
Emory gave me a second to collect myself and then spoke gently. “Hadley? What did she mean? Is there an enemy among the Cleri?”
I shook my head slowly, chilled to the bone. “I’m not sure,” I said, my head swimming and my fears giving way to anger. “But God help them if there is.”
Chapter Twelve
It took me a few days to recover from my conversation with Emory. The more I thought about the possibility of a traitor living under the same roof as us, the more freaked out I got. And of course, Fallon had gone back to being his regular annoying self, which made me wonder if he really was evil. Twice, I found him going through the stuff in my parents’ room. He said he was looking for extra blankets, but I didn’t buy it. He was under my bed, for God’s sake. And then when I’d found him showing a bunch of the other boys embarrassing photos of me as a kid, I thought about using magic to knock him out so I wouldn’t have to worry about him causing any more trouble.
It wasn’t just Fallon I was suspicious of, though. In fact, I found myself starting to question the motives of everyone around me to the point where it was difficult to be around anyone without my mind running wild with conspiracy theories. But I couldn’t exactly barricade myself in my parents’ bedroom and stay there for the rest of my life. Not only was it unrealistic, but being around the others was the only way I was going to find out who wasn’t really who they claimed to be. And if I didn’t figure that out, we’d most likely lose this battle.
And “loser” was not in my vocabulary.
So instead I forced myself to leave the safety of my room and wandered through the house, looking for something that might be able to distract me from our impending doom. I thought about making lunch for everyone, but when I got to the kitchen I saw that people had taken my instructions at face value; they’d been helping themselves to any food they could find. I picked up an empty can of Chef Boyardee and tossed it into the trash behind me. There were two half-eaten bags of chips on the counter and a turned-over box of cream-filled cakes lying across the table.
We had food with us when we arrived, but it would last us only so long—especially with a group as large as this—and eventually we’d have to go into town for more. The spread in front of me was proof that maybe the younger twitches shouldn’t be the ones picking out the meals. Where were the vegetables? The fruit? Did they think that Skittles counted as a food group? Unwrapping a little cake, I popped half of it into my mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
“There you are,” Sascha said, appearing behind me. Jasmine and Jinx were in tow. Sascha walked over to the counter and pulled herself up until she was sitting on top, her legs swinging through the air in front of her. Jasmine plopped down at the table, bringing one knee up to her chest and pulling at a loose string on her black jeans, while Jinx snatched a cake of her own and began to unwrap it.
“What’s up, guys?” I asked, trying to sound as normal as possible.
“We’re bored,” Sascha said.
“And some of the others are getting on my nerves,” Jasmine added.
I looked over at Jinx, waiting for her to complain about something too.
“I’m just hungry,” she said, shrugging before sticking her finger into the middle of the spongy cake to retrieve the frosting.
“Well, I think I can help you out with most of those,” I said to them. “We’re going to start training tomorrow, so you better be ready to work hard.”
I leaned back in my seat and placed my feet on the kitchen table. If my mom were here, she would’ve lectured me about appropriate etiquette or said something along the lines of, “When you grow up and get a place of your own, you can put your feet up on the furniture all you want. But until then, feet on the floor.” Thinking of my mom out of the blue like this made me sad and I slowly brought my feet down off the table out of respect for her memory.
“Finally. That’s the most sane thing I’ve heard you say since this whole thing started. I’ve been itching to cast something,” said Jasmine, wiggling her fingers excitedly.
“Good. Make sure you get some sleep tonight,” I warned. “And tell the others to do the same, because tomorrow’s going to be a long day. Everyone’s going to need their energy for what we’ll be doing.”
As they left, I thought about how much I wished I could take my own advice and rest up. Instead, I turned back to the now deserted kitchen and placed my forehead on top of the table. The surface was cool against my face and I knew that if I closed my eyes now, I’d be out within seconds.
But there was still too much to do and I’d be lucky if I got any sleep at all that night. Sitting back up, I picked up the notepad I’d been doodling on earlier and began to make a list of all the spells we’d be going over the following day. Two hours and three pages (front and back) later, I had what I thought was a good beginning. And although there were enough spells to keep us busy for months, I had a sinking feeling that it still wasn’t going to be enough time to prepare for whatever was coming.
“Okay, everyone, let’s do it again,” I said, looking around at the exhausted faces around me. We’d been at it for hours now. Going over spell after spell, every last one Jackson had taught us since I’d started attending magic classes. They ranged from basic everyday stuff like protection from harm to deflection spells. Most knew them already, but there were a few the younger members hadn’t learned yet.