"It's just coincidence, honey."
"Is it?"
"Of course. Come on, you don't actually believe that a curse — "
"I don't want to believe it," she said in a tired voice. "But Benny, and now this."
"I admit it's a bit weird, both things happening the same day, but it's just a freakish coincidence."
"Two is a coincidence," Karen said, frowning down at her Bloody Mary. "Three is… I nearly died last night."
Scott gazed at her, stunned.
"I realize accidents happen all the time, people falling in the bathtub, but I've never done it before. Oh, I've slipped a couple of times, but last night I took a real header. If Meg hadn't pulled me out when she did…" Karen smiled crookedly. She stirred her drink with a forefinger, the cubes clinking on the sides of the glass. "I was out cold under the water when she found me. A couple more minutes…" She shrugged a bare shoulder. "I wonder if they really put a tag on your big toe. It seems so ludicrous, doesn't it? I suppose they do. Who's gonna object, right?"
"My God, Karen."
"Are you all right?" Julie asked.
"Well, I'm here to tell the tale. Yeah, I'm okay." Looking at Scott, she raised her eyebrows. "What do you think?"
He felt dazed. He could think of nothing to say. He shook his head.
"Coincidence or the curse?" she prodded.
"I… I just don't know."
"She said she'd get us," Julie muttered.
"On the bright side," Karen said, "at least nobody's been seriously hurt or killed."
"Not yet."
"Look," Scott said, "curse or no curse, sometimes you have bad luck and accidents. These things just happen. We'll only make matters worse if we start thinking that woman's causing it all."
"But what if she is?" Julie asked. "What if this is just the beginning?"
"I don't know," Scott said. "What's your answer? If you're so sure it is the curse, what do you suggest we do about it? Hide? Stop taking showers? Stay home the rest of our lives? Maybe you'd better forget about going to the movies with Nick tonight. The curse might get you."
"You don't have to get nasty."
"I mean it. Where does it take us? Do I quit my job? God knows, I'd damn well better not take up an L1011 with, three hundred passengers aboard if this gal's put a whammy on me."
"When's your next flight?" Karen asked. She looked serious.
"Come on, I was just — "
"When is it, next week?"
"Tuesday. I'm taking the eight-forty to Kennedy."
"This is Thursday. If things keep happening — "
"They won't."
"One way or the other," Karen continued, "we should have a pretty good idea where we stand by then."
"You sound like you're already convinced."
"I'm getting there fast."
"What about you, Julie?"
"I'm going on my date, no matter what."
Chapter Thirty-one
Benny finished his grilled-cheese sandwich and Coke in the kitchen with Tanya, then excused himself. He carried his book into the den. Through the sliding glass door he saw the others outside. His father and Karen were just beyond the door, Dad reading while Karen was stretched out on a lounge.
Her hands were folded under her head. Her eyes were shut. Her skin looked slick and shiny from her suntan oil. Benny stared at her breasts, only their middles covered by the taut fabric of her swimsuit, their glossy sloping sides clearly visible. They were beautiful except for the bruises. The bruises gave Benny a sick feeling. He wished they were gone.
The black suit dung like skin, showing the curves of her ribs, her flat belly, even the small depression of her navel. It left her hipbones bare, and slanted in sharply down to her groin. Benny stared at the smooth hollows where her legs joined her body. One of the hollows creased as she raised her knee.
He knew that if he watched much longer, he might lose control. So he turned away. He moved a chair so he could still see Karen, and sat down. The view wasn't very good from here. But he felt guilty about spying on her, especially about getting aroused. By crossing a leg, he eased the tight feeling. He opened the book.
Really lucky that the librarian had remembered the title. He'd thought she was nice, from the start, but it took a very special person to bring the book upstairs for him in spite of the way he'd run off leaving such a mess.
His mind returned to the attack. He felt his penis shrink as if trying to hide. As the fear tightened its grip, he forced himself to read the title page.
Witch's Spells and Potions: A Handbook for Witches and Warlocks by Jean Du Champes. He turned to the table of contents, and ran his eyes down the chapter headings:
1. Origins of the Black Arts
2. Journey's Start
3. Tools of the Trade
4. Divining
5. Love Spells
6. Attack Spells
7. Countermagic
8. Forming a Coven
Appendix 1 — Planetary Days and Hours
Appendix 2 — Glossary
Index
Chapter 7, on countermagic, sounded as if it might be what he wanted. Maybe he should start at the beginning, though, and work his way up to it. He riffled through the pages, glimpsing weird diagrams and charts, a strange drawing that looked like a tree woman, lists like recipes, all kinds of poems and chants. He flipped back to the page with the tree woman. It was labeled MANDRAGORE. A leafy bush seemed to grow out of her head. Her body, with outstretched arms and legs, was formed by the root. Benny gazed at the crudely drawn breasts and vagina. Then he was staring out the glass door at Karen, trying to imagine how she would look without her swimsuit. A couple of times he'd accidentally seen Julie naked. But that was different; she was his sister. To see Karen… He forced himself to look away from her, and turned to the end of the book. The last page was numbered 264.
He was not a fast reader. At about twenty-five pages an hour, it would take him at least ten hours to wade through the whole volume. He'd better start with the important chapter. Later, if he had time, he would go back and read it all. That part about love spells. Maybe he could. No! This is bad stuff. It's wrong to mess with it. Dangerous, too. It's okay to use magic to fight the curse, but to put a spell on Karen. The idea excited him, but gave him a heavy, disgusted feeling.
I won't! No matter what!
He flipped back to the table of contents, checked the page number for the countermagic chapter, and quickly turned to it. He found the end of the section. Thirty pages long. With a sigh, he began to read:
Beware! Sooner or later, as you tread through the dark passages of magic, you are bound to arouse the enmity of practitioners unfriendly to your art, who will use their powers to foil you. Taken unaware, you will be totally at the mercy of your adversary, open to potent attacks that might prove injurious, even fatal. To insure your safety, you must take precautions that will throw a curtain of safety around yourself, your loved ones, and your home.
The protective spell required that he walk around the outside of the house during a new moon carrying a chalice of purified water, chanting about an earth goddess named Habondia. On completing the circle, he was to sprinkle some of the water in each room of the house. He should see chapter 3 for instructions on how to purify water. But there would be some moon tonight, so he didn't bother checking on that. He kept on reading.
He could hang a holystone on the hearth. If he had one. Or he could protect himself with a lodestone or a cross-stone. But where was he supposed to find such things?