The Bitterwine Oath Page 18

  The table of contents alone was six pages long. There were so many different categories of magic: elixirs, teas, unctions, and ointments; divination, including tarot, pendulum use, finding lost things, and dream interpretation; beguilements like glamouring and the blanket deception that blocked normal people from noticing our magic; protective spells and charms like talismans and wards; blood rites; knot and binding magic; and, last but not least, curses accompanied by dire warnings. There were groupings of “exclusive spells” that only one type of Warden could cast, and “semi-exclusive,” which meant any Warden could cast them with help from another. As if that weren’t confusing enough, there were also “preferential nonexclusive” spells, wherein the elements of earth, bone, and blood worked like rock, paper, scissors, superseding one another depending on a complicated set of factors.

  “You don’t need to read that part,” Lindsey said, peering at the book on my lap. “I mean, you could do any of them.”

  “Even a”—I flipped back to an interesting page in the elixirs section—“‘crystal rosewater pleasure elixir’?”

  “Heather is such a badass!” Vanessa cackled. “The Triad told her to stop adding her sexy-time elixirs to the Book, but she does it anyway. Once something’s written, it can’t be erased. It can only be torn out, and that’s basically sacrilege.”

  “Did you ever, like…try one?” I asked her. “To see if it worked?”

  They both laughed this time. “Everything in there works,” Vanessa said. “But, no, I um…I always wanted to with Bryce. We just weren’t there yet.” She picked at one of the button tufts on the chaise, looking instantly dour. If only Bryce knew how hard this was on her. If only we didn’t have to keep secrets.

  “Why, are you thinking of trying it with Levi?” Lindsey teased, and I gave her a soft punch.

  “Ouch!” she exclaimed. “Careful. You’re stronger than you think. So, what’s the deal, anyway? With you and Levi?”

  “Yeah, that was fast,” Vanessa said, eyebrows hiked up.

  “I think we might be a thing? Or we were, before I took the Oath. He doesn’t want to date someone who can’t tell him everything, so…I don’t really know where that leaves us.”

  Lindsey sighed. “It’s a hard life. You know how you’ve always thought my dad was a jerk for leaving us and moving to California?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, he was convinced my mom was cheating on him. Beguilements only go so far. He finally threatened to leave if she didn’t tell him the truth about why she was always busy, and she figured it was easier to just let him go. He wanted to get full custody, but adultery doesn’t factor into custody battles.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I’m sorry, Lindsey. I guess it’s better than him leaving you without cause, though. I feel bad about bashing him.”

  “You didn’t know,” she said kindly.

  I continued flipping through the book. “Hey, there is one page that’s ripped out,” I said, running my finger along the torn edge. “Do y’all know what it was?”

  Lindsey shook her head. “I never noticed.”

  “Me neither,” Vanessa said. “Anything called out to you yet?”

  “Hmm,” I said, scratching my chin and flipping back to divination. I’d glimpsed something in the table of contents about communicating with ancestors. That snagged my attention. But I didn’t want to get too deep too fast. I’d start with something else. “What’s sortilege?” I asked.

  “Throwing the bones,” Vanessa said. “Reading objects to tell the future or find out the truth.” She rolled off the chaise and went to the bunk beds to retrieve a small wooden box from her backpack. “I’ll show you my sortilege set.”

  She placed the latched box on the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the rug. Inside, there was a pretty purple scarf holding nearly a dozen different little bones. My dad could have identified them, I was sure, but my knowledge of skeletal systems stopped at ninth-grade bio.

  “Where do you get them?” I asked, setting aside the Book of Wisdom and sitting across from her at the coffee table. Lindsey scooted closer, too, and I nabbed another handful of her chips. “Do you hunt, or…?”

  “It sounds gross, but it’s mostly roadkill. And sometimes we walk the woods to look for remains nature has already processed.” Vanessa spread out the scarf with the bones and placed her palms flat on the table, her silver rings catching the light. “Each piece represents something. You could use my set, but it wouldn’t work as well as one you cultivate on your own. You can pick what they represent.” She pointed. “Mine are self, friend, family member, safety, wealth, love, suffering, yes, no, evil, and changeability. I try to respect the people I know and refrain from asking questions about their private lives. Honestly, it’s for your sake as much as theirs, Nat. There are things that you just don’t need to know, right? But”—she grinned and bit her lip—“for the sake of demonstration, let’s have a little fun.”

  “Ooh,” Lindsey said, getting more snugly situated.

  Vanessa gave a self-satisfied smile as she slid five of the bones carefully away and kept six in play. She set one in the very middle, and then another, and then closed her eyes and hovered over a third. “I’m asking the family bone to be a friend tonight,” she said quietly. After a moment, she dipped her head in gratitude and set that bone in the middle, as well. She gathered the other three that were in play, cupped them in her fists, and breathed on them, taking her time.

  Then she asked the sortilege set, “Does Grayson think about doing it with each of the three of us on a regular basis?”

  Lindsey snorted. I half-gasped, half-laughed. Vanessa threw the bones and rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

  Two of the three landed close to the central pieces, and one of them was so far away it barely made it on the scarf. Vanessa laughed and pointed at the three central pieces. “These are us,” she said. “The two that are closest represent love, and yes.” She pointed to the farthest one. “That means no.”

  “Gross!” Lindsey said.

  “Well, he still thinks about you the most,” Vanessa laughed. “Don’t need sortilege to see that.”

  “Ugh. I don’t like him like that,” Lindsey said. “I’ve exhausted the options in San Solano. I wish I were going to college.”

  My heart sank. I’d just taken an oath to defend the people of this town from supernatural predators lurking in the woods. How could I do that from a different state? The idea of e-mailing my college advisor to drop out put a big lump of preemptive regret in my gut. I’d lose my scholarship and my coveted place on the track team.

  Don’t just stop the Claiming. Break the curse.

  Those words reverberated again, this time offering a glimmer of hope. If we could actually break Malachi’s curse and rid San Solano of the Woodwalkers—for good—I could stay the course. Lindsey could go to college. Vanessa could reunite with Bryce. Brianna could move away, if she wanted. The grandmothers could focus their remaining years on relaxing and spending time with family.

  “Can you see what’s going to happen on the night of the Claiming?” I asked, and both of their smiles disappeared. I felt the need to justify the thought. “I mean, can we know who’s going to be Shadowed by doing this? Wouldn’t that be helpful?”

  Vanessa placed her hand over mine. “Nat, there are things you don’t try to see. It can mess with the balance of everything, become a self-fulfilling prophecy of the worst kind. There are rules. And even when there aren’t rules, there’s better judgment.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll be careful.”

  Nodding, she scooped the bones back into the scarf. My query had darkened the mood, I could tell, but I wasn’t sure why. Stopping the Claiming was our job, and it had been a logical question from my newbie perspective. But then I made the connection. “Did you break up with Bryce because of the bones?”

  “I had a moment of weakness,” she said, confirming my theory. “And I asked the bones whether Bryce would be Shadowed. But th
e more I tried to know, the closer evil came, and the farther safety went. Knowing leads to interfering, and the bones didn’t want me to interfere. So I figured it was best for him—for everyone—if I distanced myself and focused on protecting the town, rather than just one person I care about.”

  “That’s really selfless,” I said.

  “You know, sometimes I feel like the Pagans of the Pines cursed us that night, too,” she said, placing the scarf back in the box.

  I tried to chew on that, but the activating magic was coming in waves and it seemed to have receded for the moment, leaving me exhausted. “What happens to Ryan Ashland now?” I asked, yawning.

  “Nothing, until the night of,” Lindsey said, catching my contagious yawn. “He’s safe until then.”

  Safe. What did that even mean anymore?

  We went to bed. I curled up in the curtained-off darkness of the bunk below Lindsey’s. Amid the unnerving transformations taking root inside me, I fell asleep thinking of Levi. My desire to protect him was galvanizing into iron resolve.

  NINETEEN

  EIGHTEEN DAYS UNTIL THE CLAIMING

  “Hey! It’s almost dawn. Are you alive?”

  My eyes snapped open. Lindsey pulled aside the curtain and sat on the edge of my bed.

  “I’m awake,” I said, popping up so fast I almost hit my head on the top bunk.

  “How do you feel?”

  I took stock. I felt different. More alive. Strangely ravenous. For the first time in a month, I’d slept without waking up paralyzed by fear.

  “Amazing,” I answered. It was an understatement. The Wardens said I would be stronger. I tested this claim by giving Lindsey a gentle shove. She fell off the bed.

  “Hey!”

  “Wow,” I gasped. “We should go for a run soon. Wait a second…did you throw all your qualifying races?”

  She’d already found her feet again. “I was too busy with this to add more training and travel to my schedule. Come on. It’s Sunday, so we’d better leave before the pastor gets here to practice his sermon. The Triad doesn’t like when we get cocky and use beguilements instead of discretion.”

  With a satchel full of magical oddities, I followed her out of the hideout a few minutes later. My “starter kit” is what Kate had called it. She’d made it for me months ago, just in case.

  As we drove out of town, down the dark country road, my alert eyes darted from trees to street signs to unlit houses and barns, looking for something sinister waiting, watching, hunting.

  “That was the closest they’ve been to the church, last night,” Lindsey said. “They’re getting bolder. Testing the boundaries again like they did before the last massacre.”

  A mangled animal carcass and a giant smear of blood appeared in the middle of the road. Lindsey swerved around it. “They were here,” she whispered.

  I gulped, but like the black candle on my first night in the hideout, the magic in me set to work. I didn’t feel unafraid, exactly, but in control of the fear.

  “My truck should be right up here,” I said, pointing.

  “Whoa,” Lindsey breathed, slowing down. It was turned on its back next to the road like a helpless beetle, its mechanical underbelly on full display. I really, really hoped no one knew this was my car, or they’d think I’d wrecked and been dragged away by a wild animal.

  “Looks like the scent of your blood got them worked up,” Lindsey said. “That one last night may have tracked you from here.”

  The thought of a Woodwalker following me, hot on the scent while I ran barefoot through the dark, was the most terrifying thing I could imagine.

  Lindsey realized the impact of her words. “Now you can fight them,” she encouraged me. “You’re not a sitting duck anymore.” The seatbelt snapped as she parked and opened the door to the dewy predawn air. “Come on, let’s put it back the right way and hope no one saw through the glamour.”

  “Put it back?” I repeated.

  “Yeah. Turn it over.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Lindsey hopped out with gazelle-like grace and disappeared around the truck. I followed. The sound of the wind rushing through the tall grasses behind me made my skin prickle.

  Lindsey placed her hands on the truck and pushed. It moved.

  “What the what?” I whispered.

  “A little help?” she grunted. She was close to getting it balanced on two wheels now.

  I ambled over and spread my hands beside hers. “I don’t want to it fall back and crush us.”

  “It will crush me if you don’t help,” she said in a strangled voice.

  Expecting it to be like trying to shove a concrete wall, I dug in my heels and pushed. I could feel my muscles throbbing with newfound power like a taut rubber band. The huge piece of machinery gave, teetering for a moment before groaning and crashing to its upright position.

  Lindsey shook out her arms and loped around to open the driver’s side door. Under the cabin light, she used her black shirt to wipe at a smear of blood left on the steering wheel. “Get in and put it in neutral so I can push it to the Sawmill parking lot,” she said, pointing a quarter mile down the road. “Even with a beguilement, you always want to reduce suspicion as much as possible.”

  We took care of it and arrived at my house right as sunrise stained the rain clouds a dusty orange. A police cruiser was parked in the driveway. My dad and Jason went fishing before church every other Sunday, rain or shine. The only thing that alarmed me was the thought of lying to my parents and the sheriff at the same time.

  My stomach grumbled as I swung open the screen door and smelled bacon. In the kitchen, my parents were tag-teaming breakfast while Jason sat at the table with a mug of black coffee.

  “Y’all are back early!” my mom said cheerfully, slapping several more strips of bacon into a sizzling skillet for us.

  “My truck broke down last night, and I didn’t want to leave it there too long,” I said.

  “We’ll deal with it after breakfast,” my dad said as he stirred a pan of scrambled eggs.

  My mom shook her head. “That truck is as old as the hills. It’s time you got a new car. Whatever you’ve saved up working, we’ve agreed on matching half. I don’t want you wasting your last summer at that catfish joint.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “We can’t let you leave for Louisiana without a reliable car, sweetie,” my dad said.

  I hugged their necks, not caring that tiny drops of blazing hot grease splattered along my arm. But disappointment deflated my joy. What was I going to do about school? What would I tell my parents? Would they still want to buy me a new car if I they knew I might be dropping out?

  “Ouch! I already saw the chiropractor this week!” my mom said, and I relinquished her from my grip with a mumbled apology.

  “That’s the weirdest thing,” Jason mused. “I saw a truck flipped over on the side of the road on my way here. I ran the license plate and it’s not registered to anyone. No papers or personal effects, either. I don’t like to admit it, but something’s off around here.”

  “I hope no one got hurt,” Lindsey said, settling into the chair next to him.

  “I just can’t make sense of it.” Jason glared at his coffee mug as though an answer might float to its surface, Magic 8 Ball–style. Nervous, I poured myself a glass of orange juice and hid my expression behind a big gulp. “Anyway,” he said after a minute, “did y’all enjoy the festival yesterday? Even with the tourists making trouble, Miss Maggie works some serious magic every year.”

  Thankfully, Lindsey was ready to respond while I used my juice as cover.

  My dad and Jason ate quickly so they could tow my car before heading to the lake. Mom went to do some filing at the vet office. I waited until they were gone to surrender to my ferocious appetite and eat the leftover bacon. When all was said and done, I’d gobbled down two cartons of yogurt, three fried eggs, six pieces of bacon, and toast. This new strength didn’t come cheap in the fuel department.

 
“So, what’s the permanent solution?” I asked Lindsey. “How do we break the curse? This has to stop somewhere, right?”

  Lindsey bit a crunchy piece of bacon. “Not even Malachi could do that, and she tried for fifty years. But, I mean, you’re related to her. You could always give it a shot after the anniversary.”

  “After the anniversary? What good will that do?”

  “Prevent us from having to worry about the next one. This isn’t the time to be messing around and experimenting, Nat.”

  “It wouldn’t be messing around.”

  Her phone lit up on the table. She wiped her hands on a napkin and answered. “Hey, Kate. Yeah, we’re ready.” She looked at me and asked, “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

  “Just a rifle at the shooting range.”

  “Did you hear that? Okay, bye.” She grabbed the empty plates and put them in the dishwasher. “Kate’s coming to pick us up.”

  Within minutes Kate arrived with Vanessa and Brianna. We headed east toward the cabin, but Kate passed the turnoff. I realized we were going somewhere else. The woods thickened up around us.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise,” Kate said, chipper.

  “Shouldn’t you be at church?” I asked. “Keeping up appearances and whatnot?”

  “Routines have fallen by the wayside at this point.”

  “How do you keep your family from noticing anything?” I thought of the predicament Lindsey’s mom had faced. There had been so much to process I hadn’t even questioned Kate’s balancing act.

  “Beguilement spells and countless magical sleepy-time teas,” she answered.

  “When do you sleep?”

  “From sunrise to seven thirty and on my lunch break, and any nights I’m off duty. Although this month, most of us are on duty every night.”

  A light rain sprinkled my window. Everything looked green and vivid during summer rains. I felt a pinch in my heart. I loved San Solano like you’d love an annoying little sister. I could tease this dinky place all I wanted, but deep down, I had a soft spot for it. What would happen if twelve more boys died? What would another unsolvable case of that magnitude do to this town?