Beautiful Darkness (43 page)

Arelia opened her hands in front of her lips and spoke softly into them. “My power is your power, sisters.” She tossed tiny stones into the center of the circle.

“Moonstones,” Liv whispered.

Amma pulled out a sack of chicken bones. I would know that smell anywhere. It was the smell of my kitchen back home. “My power's your power, sisters.”

Amma tossed the bones into the circle with the moonstones. Twyla opened her own hand, revealing a tiny carving in the shape of a bird. She spoke the words that gave it power.

“One unto this world, one unto da next.

Open the door to da one who's annexed.”

She started to chant, loud and feverish, the unfamiliar words rippling through the air. Her eyes rolled back in her head, but her eyelids remained open. Arelia began to chant as well, shaking long strands of tasseled beads.

Amma grabbed my chin so she could look me in the eye. “I know this isn't goin’ to be easy, but there are things you need to know.”

The air in the center of the Circle of Sight began to swirl and churn, creating a thin white mist. Twyla, Arelia, and Amma continued to chant, their voices reaching a crescendo. The mist seemed to act on their command, gaining speed and density, swirling upward like a growing tornado.

Without warning, Twyla inhaled sharply, as if she was taking her last breath. The mist seemed to follow, disappearing into her mouth. For a minute, I thought she was going to drop dead. She sat there, her back so straight you would've thought she was tied to a rack, eyes rolled back in her head, mouth still open.

Link retreated to a safe distance while Liv scrambled forward to help, reaching for Twyla. But Amma grabbed her arm in midair. “Wait.”

Twyla exhaled. The white mist raced from her lips, rising over the circle. Taking form. The mist swirled upward, creating a body as it moved. The bare feet, peeking out beneath a white dress, the torso filling the dress as if inflating a balloon. It was a Sheer, rising from the haze. I watched as the mist snaked upward, creating a torso, a delicate neck, and finally a face.

It was —

My mother.

Staring back at me with the same luminous, ethereal quality unique to Sheers. But beyond the translucence, she looked exactly like my mother. Her eyelids fluttered, and she looked at me. The Sheer didn't just look like my mother. It was my mother.

She spoke, and her voice was as soft and melodic as I remembered. “Ethan, sweetheart, I've been waiting for you.”

I stared at her, speechless. In every dream I'd had of her since the day she died, every photograph, every memory — she was never as real as this.

“There is so much I need to tell you, so much I can't say. I've tried to show you the way, send you the songs….”

She sent me the songs. The songs only Lena and I could hear. I spoke, but my voice sounded far away, as if it wasn't my own.
Seventeen Moons
— the Shadowing Song. “It was you, this whole time.”

She smiled. “Yes. You needed me. But now he needs you, and you need him, too.”

“Who? Are you talking about Dad?” But I knew she wasn't talking about my father. She was talking about the other man who meant so much to both of us.

Macon.

She didn't know he was gone.

“Are you talking about Macon?” I saw a spark of recognition in her eyes. I had to tell her. If something had happened to Lena, I would want someone to tell me. No matter how much everything changed. “Macon's gone, Mom. He died a few months ago. He can't help me.”

I watched her shimmer in the moonlight. She was as beautiful as the last time I saw her, when she hugged me on the rainy porch before I left for school. “Listen to me, Ethan. He'll always be with you. Only you can redeem him.” Her image began to fade.

I reached out, desperate to touch her, but my hand only slipped through the air. “Mom?”

“The Claiming Moon has been called.” She was disappearing, vanishing into the night. “If Darkness prevails, the Seventeenth Moon will be the last.” I almost couldn't see her anymore. The mist was swirling slowly again, above the circle. “Hurry, Ethan. You don't have much time, but you can do this. I have faith.” She smiled and I tried to memorize her expression, because I knew she was slipping away.

“What if I'm too late?”

I could hear her distant voice. “I tried to keep you safe. I should have known I couldn't. You were always special.”

I stared at the white haze, churning like my stomach.

“My sweet summer boy. I'll be thinking of you. I love —”

The words dwindled into nothing. My mom had been here. For a few minutes, I had seen her smile and heard her voice. Now she was gone.

I had lost her all over again.

“I love you, too, Mom.”

6.19

T
here's somethin’ I've got to tell you.” Amma wrung her hands nervously. “It's about the night a the Sixteenth Moon, Lena's birthday.” It took a second to realize she was talking to me. I was still staring into the center of the circle, where my mother had been a moment before.

This time, my mom wasn't sending me messages in books or the verses of a song. I had seen her.

“Tell da boy.”

“Hush, Twyla.” Arelia put her hand on her sister's arm.

“Lies. Lies are da place where darkness grows. You tell da boy. Tell him now.”

“What are you talking about?” I looked from Twyla to Arelia. Amma shot them a look that Twyla answered with a shake of her beaded braids.

“Listen to me, Ethan Wate.” Amma's voice was uneven and
shaky. “You didn't fall from the top of the crypt, at least not the way we told you.”

“What?” She wasn't making any sense. Why was she talking about Lena's birthday after I had just seen the ghost of my dead mother?

“You didn't fall, see?” she repeated.

“What are you talking about? Of course I fell. I woke up on the ground, flat on my back.”

“That's not how you got there.” Amma hesitated. “It was Lena's mamma. Sarafine stabbed you with a knife.” Amma looked right into my eyes. “She killed you. You were dead, and we brought you back.”

She killed you.

I repeated the words to myself, the pieces snapping together so fast I could barely make sense of them. Instead, they made sense of me —

the dream that wasn't a dream, but a memory of not breathing and not feeling and not thinking and not seeing —

the dirt and flames that carried my body away as my life flowed out —

“Ethan! You all right?” I could hear Amma, but she was far away, as far as she was that night when I was on the ground.

I could be in the ground now, like my mom and Macon.

I should be.

“Ethan?” Link was shaking me.

My body filled with sensations I couldn't control and didn't want to remember. Blood in my mouth, blood roaring into my ears —

“He's passing out.” Liv was holding my head.

There had been pain and noise and something else. Voices. Shapes. People.

I had died.

I reached under my shirt, running my hand over the scar on my stomach. The scar from where Sarafine had stabbed me with a real knife. I barely noticed it anymore, but now it would be a constant reminder of the night I died. I remembered how Lena reacted when she saw it.

“You're still the same person, and Lena still loves you. Her love is the reason you're here now.” Arelia's voice was gentle, knowing. I opened my eyes, letting the blur of shapes become people as I settled back into myself again.

My thoughts were so jumbled. Even now, nothing was making any sense. “What do you mean, her love is the reason I'm here now?”

Amma spoke quietly, and I had to strain to hear her. “Lena's the one who brought you back. I helped her, me and your mamma.”

The words didn't fit together, so I tried unrolling them out again for myself. Lena and Amma brought me back from the dead, together. And together they had kept it from me until now. I rubbed the scar on my skin. It felt like the truth.

“Since when does Lena know how to raise the dead? If she did, don't you think she would've brought Macon back by now?”

Amma looked at me. I had never seen her so scared. “She didn't do it on her own. She used the Binding Spell from
The Book a Moons
. Binds death to life.”

Lena had used
The Book of Moons
.

The Book that had cursed Genevieve and Lena's whole family for generations, Claiming all the children in Lena's family
for Light or Dark on their sixteenth birthdays. The Book Genevieve had used to bring Ethan Carter Wate back from the dead for only a second — an act she spent the rest of her life paying for.

I couldn't think. My mind started caving in on itself again, and I couldn't follow my own thoughts.
Genevieve. Lena. The price.

“How could you?” I pushed myself away from them, out of their Circle of Sight. I'd seen enough.

“I didn't have a choice. She couldn't let you go.” Amma looked at me, ashamed. “I couldn't either.”

I scrambled to my feet, shaking my head. “It's a lie. She wouldn't do it.” But I knew she would. They both would. It was exactly what they would have done. I knew, because I would've done it, too.

It didn't matter now.

In my whole life, I had never been so angry with Amma, or so disappointed. “You knew the Book wouldn't give anything without taking something in return. You told me that yourself.”

“I know.”

“Lena will have to pay a price for this, because of me. You both will.” My head felt like it was going to split in half, or explode.

A renegade tear caught on Amma's cheek. She put two fingers on her forehead and closed her eyes, Amma's version of making the sign of the cross, a silent prayer. “She's payin’ it right now.”

I couldn't breathe.

Lena's eyes. The stunt at the fair. Running away with John Breed. The words found their way out, even as I tried to hold them in.

“She's going Dark because of me.”

“If Lena's going Dark, it's not because a that Book. The Book made a different kinda trade.” Amma stopped, as if she couldn't bear to tell me the rest.

“What kind of trade?”

“It gave one life but took another. We knew there'd be consequences.” The words caught in her throat. “We just didn't know it would be Melchizedek.”

Macon.

It couldn't be true.

It gave one life but took another. A different kind of trade.

My life for Macon's.

It all made sense. The way Lena had been acting the past few months. The way she had been pulling away from me, from everyone. The way she had been blaming herself for Macon's death.

It was true. She had killed him.

To save me.

I thought about her notebook and the Charmed page I'd found. What had the words said? Amma? Sarafine? Macon? The Book? It was the real story of that night. I remembered the poems written on her wall. Nobody the Dead and Nobody the Living. Two sides of the same coin. Macon and me.

Nothing green can stay.
Months ago, I believed she'd gotten the Frost poem wrong. But of course, she hadn't. She was talking about herself.