Silver Moon (15 page)

“That’s awesome.” I’m almost speechless.

Almost.

“So, how does the whole Watcher, Follower thing work? I mean, I know the
Conways
pretty much force their people into choosing life or death.”

“They do. Once a human learns what they are, they’re either killed or picked to be a Follower. I don’t know how the
Conways
choose another person’s fate.” She glances toward the carpet, deep in thought, but is quick to add, “We don’t do that—make them choose. Our Watchers help on their own accord.”

I nod. “That’s good.”

When Beth doesn’t respond, I ask, “So, will I be able to do that?” Questions zigzag through my brain, waiting their turn to be asked.

“Do what?”

“Communicate with Watchers.”

“Well, of course you will. We all have that ability, but you won’t obtain it until your birthday,” she explains. “Whatever you do, Candra, don’t lose that locket.” She nods to the metal heart lying on my chest.

I shake my head. “I won’t. Promise.”

She carefully lifts Shakespeare off the end table.

“Wait,” I say. There’s one more pressing question I have to ask. “What if I can change everything?”

Beth’s eyes scrunch into a questioning look. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What if I can stop this?”

“Candra, don’t you think we’ve tried everything by now?” She releases a short sigh. “We’ve tried to be peacemakers, but they won’t give until we do.”

“I can talk to Ben,” I say, hoping my words might mean something.

But Beth’s already moving her head, disagreeing with me. “No, I can’t let you see him anymore. This is for your own protection. I can’t emphasize how important you are—to us, and your parents. It simply won’t work.”

“I haven’t tried yet,” I mumble. Adrenaline races through my bloodstream, swirling into every open port of my body. Is it the idea that I’m forbidden to see him, or the idea that each time I’m with him may be my last?

Chapter Sixteen

I
’ve never been to Maggie’s alone—only just that once with Beth. Am I scared? A little. I don’t know what her visitor policy is like, but I guess I’ll find out.

I fibbed earlier. I told Beth I might work today, when I knew I wasn’t. I can’t exactly come out and say, “
Oh, I meant to tell you—I’m going to visit Maggie. Hope she doesn’t mind.
” Yeah, right. Beth will never in a million years fall for that one. She’ll keep me locked in my room until I graduate. I can picture it now: Me seeing the crazy eyes outside my window. My nightmares returning. Maybe even going without food until Beth gets over her grudge and feeds me something.

So, I have to stick to the plan. I have to do this alone, and cautiously. Maggie seemed like a nice lady when I met her. She’ll remember me. There shouldn’t be a reason she denies my company.

The only reason I’m doing is to see if she can clear things up for me. Beth’s explained a lot, but there’s still something I want to know, one question Beth told me is impossible. My gut nags me to believe otherwise.

Outside, the brittle air clings to my exposed skin—around my neck, my face, and my hands. Leaves skirt the bottom of trees, and only move when the wind passes through. The sky’s a hazy grey. Clouds slowly pass overhead.
 

I bury my hands in my pockets and my face in my jacket; I have it zipped as far as the zipper will let me. The trip isn’t long by car, but by foot is a different story. It’ll take me at least twenty minutes to get there.

Inside, I’m a wreck. What if she tells me to get lost? I mean, she seems powerful with her voodoo ways or whatever. What if she calls Beth and tells her I stopped by? This might be a mistake, but she also might be the only person I can talk to right now—the only person who will understand what’s going on and know how I can stop this mess.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later I arrive at her Godforsaken house. The decrepit place still looks like a T-Rex shit on it.

I hesitate before walking up the dirt driveway, if you want to call it that. She doesn’t even own a car from the looks of things. But then, she doesn’t really need one. I guess being a werewolf has its perks.

I make progress, trekking up to her front porch. Dried herbs hang from the rafters. I push a couple out of the way just to get to the door. Before I can knock, Maggie greets me.

Her face is rigid, her eyes tired. “Well, what’re you doing just standing there looking dumb?” she asks, then turns around and disappears into the house.

I step inside. Barely. “How’d—how’d you know I was here?”

“You’re too loud,” she grumbles from the kitchen.

I shut the door behind me. “Too loud?” I repeat.

She nods in an almost sarcastic manner. “Yes, that’s what I said. Are you deaf now?”

This woman seriously has some nerve. I should turn around and walk out, but I came here to get an answer, and I’m not leaving until I get one.

Maggie pivots around to the countertop and ties dried flowers together. A bow is perfectly bound at the center when she finishes.

“I wondered if you could, maybe, help me,” I say.

She gripes almost inaudibly. I stand there, too nervous to budge. The house freaks me out. Hell,
she
freaks me out.

“Well, speak up, girl. What is it that you want?” Her back still faces me as she sets aside the flowers and begins working on herbs.

“Can I…” I begin to speak, but the words clog my throat. I’ve been over this in my head, and it seemed so easy. This is different. This is the real deal.

“
Ey
?” She turns around and glares at me. “Spit it out.”

“Can I ask you something?”

She drops her herbs on the counter, like she’s frustrated with me. “What have I stood here and told you for the last five minutes? Get on with it. If you’ve got
somethin
’ to say, then say it.”

I bite back the urge to say something totally uncalled for. But, if I lived by myself, I’d probably be bitter too.

“Is there a way to stop this?” I cringe, waiting for her to bark at me.

She turns around, working on gathering her dead plants into an arrangement. For a minute or so, she doesn’t answer me. I contemplate leaving, but she finally decides to respond.

“I’m afraid not.” She sighs loudly, and shifts her body to face me. “Those
Conways
are in deeper than they bargained for. Granted, a few have tried” –-her eyes bore into mine— “…and failed. There’s nothing you can do that can help.”

I nod, realizing my trip here is a lost cause. Just like this whole battle between our families, our
packs
.

“There’s got to be something…” I trail off, having absolutely no idea where I’m going with this. If Maggie says it can’t be done, then it can’t. She an Ancient. Who am I to question her?

I dig my hands further into my pockets, realizing there’s a chill creeping in around the door sill. Or maybe it’s one of the windows. Either way, it doesn’t ease my tension.

“Nothing, child. Nothing can be done. They’re working with instruments beyond your control.”

“Instruments? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like this.” She runs her hand over the faded green ribbon roll, and then a bushel of her dried flowers and herbs. Resembling something out of a magic show, they hang in the air, as if a string pulls them along. Only, Maggie’s the one guiding them.

I feel my face lose blood. There’s no way she can do that. There’s nothing that can make me believe otherwise. It’s a hoax. Has to be.

“How—how’s that even possible? It’s like—” Dare I say the word? “—
magic
.”

Maggie snorts. Except her snorting sounds more like a grumpy person with a cold. Well, she
is
cranky.

“Child, there are things of this world that you have yet to experience. Some are good. Some are evil. Those who have this…this…power, if you will, also have the ability to choose which side they use it for. There are only two.” For the first time since I’ve known the woman, a lazy grin creeps across her face, vividly showing her yellow teeth.

Freaky old lady.

“So you’re saying that people are born with this gift?”

She shakes her head. “No, no. What I’m saying is that they can
learn
this talent. Nothing is that easy.”

“Anybody can learn magic?” I’m in a state of shock. First there are werewolves, and I happen to be one of them. Then there’s the deal with unique powers that I’ll gain on my eighteenth birthday. Now she’s standing there telling me magic exists too. This is all too much. I massage the sides of my forehead, concentrating, taking her words in.

“If they are up to the challenge, yes.”

I frown, and decide to take a seat at the table. “How’s magic a challenge?”

“Anything’s a challenge when you’re not used to it. Just like the power you’ll receive will be a challenge. You have to learn to
control
it. You can’t just prance about” –-she waves her hands in the air— “and pretend like you know what you’re doing. No, you have to be able to make sure it stays within your reach at all times.”

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” I lean against the back of my chair, as if I can absorb her words the closer I am.

“Time.” She shrugs. “That’s all it takes.”

“But you said people have to pick what they use magic for, so they pick sides?”

“Yes,” she grunts. “Good and evil. Always good and evil.”

“This is insane.” I exhale a long-winded sigh.

“Insane or not, it’s the reality of our world.”

I prop my chin on top of the chair. “Does this mean all werewolves use magic?”

“No. Only those who want to. It’s a choice, not a gift.”

Suddenly, I feel giddy. I perk up, sitting straight in my chair. “What if I wanted to learn? Can you teach me?”

Maggie flails her arms into the air. “Absolutely not. You have enough on your plate as it is.”

“There’s got to be another way,” I mumble, feeling my happiness drain from my body.
 

Calmly, she says, “There are several ways. None of which I want you to seek out.”

Yeah. Big problem right there. Don’t tell me
not
to do something. I’ll do it. I swear I will.

I decide to play coy. “
Mmhmm
. Like what?”

“Oh, no, no, no. I’m not falling for that.”

“Ah, c’mon, Maggie.” I stomp my foot. “I’m new to this stuff. How am I ever going to learn anything if everyone hides it from me?” I whine. She watches me for a few seconds. I try my best to look pitiful. No clue if it’s working or not.

The look on her face tells me she’s contemplating something. I just don’t know what it is.

She purses her lips then asks, “Have you heard of Night Sky Books?”

I shake my head, puzzled. “No, can’t say I have.”

“
Mmm
,” is all she says—whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Then it hits me like a flying sack of two by fours. “Whoa, wait. Was that my clue?”

She continues on like our conversation never happened, like I’m not sitting right there in the same room as her. That
is
my clue.

I stand from the table and scoot the chair back in its place. Even if she is a harsh old woman, I have to admire her. She has guts. She doesn’t take sides, like Beth said, yet she clearly just helped me. I have no clue where Night Sky Books is located, but I have a feeling someone in this town will know.

“Thanks, Maggie,” I say, and leave the house as if I was never there.

Chapter Seventeen

A
fter my visit with Maggie, I want to know where the book store is located. But I don’t want it to be obvious that I’m searching for it. What if it’s one of those places that I’d be forbidden to visit? What if it’s a freak show? I don’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of weirdoes in capes and pointy hats.