I hung my head. Charlie was so experienced—I was a moron. Still, he was listening attentively, and I knew I could tell him what had happened to me. Again, don't ask me why.
"…I almost flooded his house. It was awful. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life, and that's saying something. I started crying, and just couldn't stop."
He was quiet for a minute. I couldn't raise my head. I just stared to the table.
"Trust me," he said, "I know how difficult and embarrassing it can be when you're first trying to use your power. Everyone screws up. All witches know this."
"I can't imagine the people who run my coven screwing up," I replied, envisioning all of the experienced blood witches I knew—Hunter, Sky, Mr. Naill. They were probably born cool, calm, and talented. And sure, Morgan was erratic, but she was also superpowerful, and I'd seen some of the wonders she was capable of when we'd put our minds together. I was just regular and inept.
"They did," he said with conviction. "I promise you. I know I was a master at it."
He could see I doubted him.
"I'll give you an example," he offered. "A lot of covens get together to hold circles and lessons for preinitiates. Our assignment one week was a simple nochd. A nochd is a revealing spell. Our teachers would hide something, and we would each use the spell to find it. When I was a kid, I always used to try and prove to everyone how smart I was. I wanted to do the most amazing and complicated nochd in the group. I searched through all of our books for a whole week. I finally found one that was hundreds of years old that I was sure no one else would have. I can still remember it. It was very long and involved. Everyone was impressed. Unfortunately, what I didn't realize is that not all nochds are alike. The term has many meanings, and the spells have many purposes. I wasn't smart enough to figure out that until it was too late."
"What happened?" I asked, looking up with interest.
"Just as I came to the end, silence. Everyone just stared at me. I mean, stared. And then they all started to laugh. The I realized that the room had gotten really cold."
"Did you do some kind of weather spell?" I asked.
"A nochd," he said with a grin, "is also a spell for nakedness, a complete revealing of self."
I gasped with sudden laughter and put my hand over my mouth.
"Well," Charlie went on, "because I was yound and dumb, I didn't realize right away that I was standing in front of my friends completely naked. I was so busy looking around to see what I had revealed that it took me a second to look down at myself to see what people were staring at."
"But aren't Wiccans okay with that?" I asked, still laughing. "I mean, being naked?"
"Sure," he said. "It won't get you in trouble. But we were still just a bunch of thirteen-year-olds. And being thirteen and naked in front of all your friends, both male and female—that's the same for everyone."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"I froze," he said. "I had no idea what to do. One of the teachers quickly undid the spell, but I was standing there long enough for everyone to get a nice long look at me. There I was: brilliant, naked Charlie."
He didn't seem to mind that I was rolling with laughter over the stories of his childhood trauma's. He even took a little bow.
"So messing up is one thing. The real trouble comes when you're just trying to impress people with magick you don't know how to control. Like what Brigid was trying to do back at the restaurant," he said, looking directly into my eyes, "before you stopped her."
I almost fell of my chair. Even though it happened again and again, sometimes I just couldn't get used to the fact that other witches always seemed to know what you where doing and thinking.
"I–I didn't…" I stammered. "I mean, I did, but I wasn't trying to embarrass her…"
"No," he said, waving his hand. "It's all right. It was a good thing that you did. It could have been dangerous."
"How did you know?" I said.
"I felt your energy coming out. I could sense it redirecting hers."
Funny. He and I could both sense energy, but Brigid didn't appear to be able to. I wondered if something was wrong with her powers. Maybe they were weak. Maybe that was why she was trying to prove herself so much.
"How did you do it, exactly?" Charlie asked. "What spell was that?"
"I don't know," I replied, shaking my head. "It just kind of came to me. I did this thing about a week ago… a tàth meànma…something… I kind of locked minds with someone, a very powerful witch."
"A tàth meànma brach?" he said, his eyes wide.
"That was it. I didn't realize it at the time, but I just kind of… learned things, I guess. When I saw what Brigid was doing, I was afraid, and I wanted to stop her. Suddenly it was if I heard my friend's voice somewhere deep in my mind. I just knew what to do."
Charlie was staring at me ad if I had just sprouted wings and a beak.
"What?" I asked anxiously, looking myself over. "What did I do?"
"You did a brach?" he repeated.
"Is that weird?" I asked, feeling myself hunch down in my chair.
"No…," he said, pulling absently at a handful of his loopy curls, "Well, not in a bad way. It's rare. And difficult. And dangerous. Why did you do a brach?"
"Oh. It wasn't my idea—it was my coven leader's, and he's crazy careful. He's a Seeker."
"Your coven leader is a Seeker?"
"Yeah," I nodded vigorously. "He's the youngest Seeker. He's nineteen."
Charlie stopped speaking. His mouth just hung open slightly. He waited for me to go on.
"There was an emergency," I said. "Something really bad had happened, and they needed me too help with a spell. The only way I could do it was by getting information from my friend. So we did a tàth meànma brach."
Charlie sat silently contemplating this for a moment. I glanced up at the clock. It was six-ten.
"We're late," I said, alarmed. "It's after six."
He nodded, still deep in thought, and we grabbed our things and ran out towards his car. The rain was coming down hard, and the streets were full of foggy mist. After we slithered, soaking, disgusting wet into the car, I turned to him. His hair was very dark, and one or two curls clung to his face very attractively. I wanted to ask something, but the sight of him made my tongue go all numb.
"What's up?" he said, immediately sensing my question. He brushed some of the water from his face and rummaged around in the glove compartment. He produces a handful of tissues, which we used to dry off.
"Are you coming tonight, or are you just dropping me off?" I asked quickly. He looked up with interest.
"I could come," he said. "Why? Can't get enough of my amazing company?"
"Sort of," I laughed. "It's just that Evelyn… my grandmother… she doesn't seem to like me. She seems angry that I'm there. It would be nice to have a friendly face."
This didn't seem to shock Charlie.
"Sure," he said, "I'd be happy to come. I'll help you get through it."
Though I must have looked like hell, I felt about a million times better as we headed back toward the house.
11. Shatter
Juli 30, 1951
Father died of a heart attack five days ago. It came on suddenly, and no one was at home. Nothing could be done.