To Spell & Back Page 19

  “Where are we, anyway? What makes you think Flix would have come here?”

  Serena mentioned something vague about portals to the Faelands being in strange places.

  “If we don’t find anything here, you must have the key to his place, right? You’re practically living together.”

  “What? You know we’re not at that phase yet.” I heard the puzzlement in Carl’s voice. “You don’t seem like yourself right now.”

  “How should...I’m sorry, in all the excitement, I’m all mixed up. Where could he have gone?” A hint of Serena’s usual shrill tone crept into her—my—voice.

  “You’re distraught, and I’m so worried about Flix I can’t think straight. Shouldn’t we be calling in the faeries by now? I’m sure they’d be more help than roaming around abandoned buildings looking for I-don’t-know-what. This just isn’t like you.”

  Carl sounded impatient and suspicious.

  “Hurry, Salem,” I urged. Not that I needed to tell him, he could hear for himself that things were about to go bad.

  “You’re right. I know I should be asking for help. I’m just so worried about Flix I’m not thinking clearly. If I could just go back to that day in Shadow Hold and hear the spell he used on Jett, I would know where to look for him.”

  “Tell me he doesn’t know about...” Halfway through the hissed question to Flix, Carl answered it triumphantly.

  “But you can go back in time. Just make a wish and twist your ring three times like Dorothy and her shoes.” Not quite how it worked, but close enough to have me shooting Flix a dirty look. How did my secrets turn into his pillow talk?

  “Twist the ring, and I can go back in time.” Serena turned the question into a statement at the last second. “How do you know about that?”

  We were running out of time. I clutched Kin’s hand tighter and glared at Flix.

  “Was I not supposed to?” Carl sounded surprised and hurt.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” I assured Flix through clenched teeth.

  “It’s okay; I'm sure Flix tells you lots of things.” I heard the twist of bitterness in the voice that sounded like mine as it faded into the distance. Salem had gotten past her and was headed toward the door. His human voice sounded loud when it issued from the tiny shell.

  “Hurry up; I think she saw me.” It turns out we didn’t need to break her wards; we only needed an inside man. Or cat. Well, you get the idea.

  “Doesn’t matter now.” Flix hit the door like an avenging angel and never looked back to see if we were behind him. A tiny, but wicked voice in the back of my head urged me to let him have his way with Serena, but I tamped it down and, staying ahead of Kin, followed Flix inside.

  The rescue of Carl was a bit of an anti-climax. As soon as she saw us, Serena let the glamour slip and began taunting Flix with how easy it had been to kidnap Carl. Watching my face turn into hers gave me a major case of the heebies. Watching Flix’s face turn to scary faerie was worse.

  “Laugh all you want, Serena, but you failed.” Forgetting all about the baby, Flix raised a hand to do something horrible, and when I jumped in to stop him, the ring on my finger flared to life with perfect timing.

  Carl handled Flix before I could get to him.

  “Don’t. Not for me, not like this. She’s not worth it.”

  I should have seen it coming, it’s not like Serena ever managed to pull off subtle, but because my focus was on Carl, I wasn’t paying attention when she lunged at me. The bony witch took me down. I'm not proud of it, but that’s how it played out. She took me down and in the process, wrapped her twig-like fingers around the ring and twisted it faster than I’d ever seen her move before.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  THE GUT-LURCHING SENSATION of moving through time hit and I hastily fixed the image of living gold in my mind. It was my only chance to get the last piece I needed to repair the Bow of Destiny, and I hoped against hope that Serena’s touch hadn’t messed things up and stolen the opportunity right out of my bare hands. It was my ring, after all, it should take its cues from me and not my arch-rival.

  Locked in a battle for control with the ring burning a brand into my finger, we fell through time for so long I started to think we might be stuck in the nothingness forever. The last person in the world I wanted to be confined to the place between times with was Serena Snodgrass.

  And still, we fell.

  And fell. For what seemed like eons, but was probably seconds or perhaps no amount of measurable time at all.

  It had been this way between us for years, Serena and me. Both wanting to be on top, neither giving an inch. I tried to tell her how important was my need, but no words could penetrate the vacuum of time. We were on the edge of becoming lost because neither of was willing to give an inch. The fight had been our truth for as long as I could remember and it was insanity—literally—as we continued to repeat the same pattern all while expecting a different result.

  I thought of all the people I’d already helped without the bow—Lemon and Harry Tart, Mona and Mark, Mrs. Katz and Dr. Cooper, and scores of other couples walking around, making babies thanks to me—and all of the people I could still help in the future. That is, unless I gave into stubbornness and self-pity, and allowed us both to become trapped in the void forever. I thought about my godmothers, Kin, Flix, and Salem, and all of the other beings I’d die to protect, and decided I couldn’t just let them watch me disappear.

  I stopped fighting. For the first time, I let Serena win.

  We landed hard enough to knock my teeth together, and I felt a bony elbow slam into my ribs.

  “No,” Serena moaned. “No, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  I shoved her off me and sat up to look around. We hadn’t gone back to Shadow Hold if that had been her intention—and I guessed it had been. If not for him being the father of her child, it was extremely pathetic that Serena would choose to revisit the loss of a louse who would have traded up if given the option. A mere few moments would show me just how wrong that assumption was.

  “Where are we?”

  “You did this.” A bony finger waved in front of my nose, and I knocked it away with more force than I needed to use.

  “No, Serena, this is all you.” A vague memory surfaced. Our first-grade year I’d had my first—and only—sleepover in this house. Serena’s house. I remembered Terra dropping me off and the feeling of excitement tinged with terror over doing something new, being somewhere different, and not knowing if I could fit myself into a new routine. I’d never been to another witch’s house before; Serena was the only one I’d known save for the older women who passed through the parlor with uncomfortable looks on their faces every Beltane.

  I might have been able to pull more out of my memory banks if Serena had stopped wailing long enough for two thoughts to come together. Television and movies teach us that the appropriate way to deal with someone having hysterics is to slap them across the face and snap them out of it. A lesson I was only too happy to employ. Yes, I enjoyed slapping Serena. Sue me.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “I'm not going to defend myself to you.” Serena sniffed and rubbed the cheek that bore my hand print in reddened flesh.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. What thought did you have at the moment when you twisted the ring?”

  “Oh, just that I wished I could go back and fix the worst thing in my life. I thought I could stop Jett’s banishment to wherever he is. He needs to know about...”

  “The baby,” I finished for her.

  “How did you find out?”

  “I have my ways. The ring doesn’t work like that, so you’ve wasted your time and ruined my mission for nothing. It looks like Jett leaving wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened—no great shock there since he’s a the biggest D-bag of all time—and even if it was, you can’t change the past.”

  “Then why have you been using the ring to go back?”

  “That is none of your bus
iness.” Not that what I was about to see was any of mine. “It works like this...” Before I could finish, the front door flew open, banged against the wall, and made me jump. Facing the door, Serena never batted an eyelash when her younger self entered the house. In fact, I think she stopped breathing altogether.

  Eleven-year-old Serena’s silky brunette hair looked like it had been cut by a six-year-old with safety scissors. The dress she wore, though clean, was at least a size too small, its hem frayed in places. Some of the stitching along one shoulder had unraveled and been inexpertly sewn so the seam puckered and red thread showed through the simple white cotton. None of that managed to take the shine off her beauty. Eyes clear as cut aquamarine traveled around the room as though trying to get a feel for the atmosphere, and set off the sweetest of faces I’d ever seen on a child. Serena had looked like an angel, how had I forgotten that?

  “If there’s nothing we can do to change things, why don’t we leave now? The last thing I need is you seeing parts of my life that are none of your business.” Serena snapped at me.

  “Sorry, it doesn’t work that way. Each trip lasts a certain length of time, and when that time is up, back we go. I have no control over it.”

  “I’m home,” Young Serena called out. “It’s report card day.”

  “Get your chores done.” A sharp voice screeched from the kitchen.

  “Okay, Mama.” Neither the sharp tones nor the snarled order dimmed the girl’s cheerful smile. She passed right by us on her way up the stairs. “I made the honor roll again.”

  There was no answer from the other side of the kitchen door.

  I was still friends with Serena at this age. We’d begun the process of cutting our ties when we were eleven or twelve and severed them totally at fourteen. I still couldn’t remember what the fight had been about, but I was starting to remember how Serena had moved around the classroom with a light grace. She had been beautiful at one time.

  “You were so pretty,” I swear I didn’t mean to sound shocked, it just came out that way.

  “Thanks, your opinion means just everything to me.” Adult Serena’s tone suggested the polar opposite was true. “I’ll cherish the compliment forever. It matters so much coming from you.”

  “So what happened to you?” And that was just mean, but it was Serena, and I really didn’t like her.

  She burned me with a look then turned her back on me and the scene playing out in front of us.

  “Look, invading your privacy wasn’t my idea. You’re the one who dragged me into this, so let’s just make the best of things. You asked to go to a time when you could fix something that would affect your whole life, and now we’re stuck here for however long it takes to see what that was. Even if you can’t change the past, you might learn something useful, so pay attention.”

  I got another hot glare for my trouble, but she did turn around and watch as the day played out—and so did I. Not having experienced what you’d call a conventional upbringing—my faerie godmothers were so far outside the box they’d need a map and a flashlight to find it—I’d always been curious what a two-parent family might look like. Even more curious how witches with mothers lived. This didn’t seem like either of those things.

  “I’m going out.” Serena’s mother—who comes to my house every year to collect some of the Balefire and I can count on one hand the number of words she’s ever said to me—grabbed a string bag off the back of the closet door and without so much as making eye contact with her daughter, sailed out of the room.

  “Coven business.” Even now, Serena covered for her neglectful parent.

  I’m not sure why, but I’d always fantasized about being part of Serena’s family. She had everything I didn’t: a mother to come home to at the end of the day; a father to take off the training wheels and run alongside shouting encouragement when she learned to ride a bike.

  Okay, most of my ideas about family life come from TV. I guess it just never occurred to me that other people’s mothers and fathers might not live up to those fantasies. All the time I’d envied Serena, she’d been living a lonely life.

  At least she shut up long enough for me to take in more of my surroundings. The kitchen was what you’d expect from a witch house: potted plants crowded on wide shelves that ran across a big picture window; herbs drying on a string suspended over the central workspace; a couple of cauldrons stacked in a corner. But the living room was so typically American husband I half expected Al Bundy himself to walk in, plop onto the beaten recliner, and then fall asleep with a beer in his hand.

  Alone in the house, Serena changed out of her school clothes and proceeded to scrub the kitchen to a sparkling clean, even though something told me her mother could have done the same with a mere flick of her finger. Serena was in her room doing homework when the front door slammed, and she looked at the clock in surprise. Eager excitement lent a bounce to her step as she raced out of the room.

  “Daddy, you’re home.”

  Adult Serena’s face lost color, which was hard to do since her normal skin tone was pasty, to begin with.

  “Haven’t you punished me enough? Take us out of here, I beg you. I’ll never bother you again.” She pleaded, her eyes now the pale gray color of a stormy sky and full of pain.

  “There’s nothing I can do.” Curiosity, of the morbid variety, pulled me out of Serena’s childhood bedroom to view the moment when, if we had been able to change the past, we could have made a difference in her life.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “Coven business like always.” Young Serena’s statement felt like an echo. “Daddy, I got my report card, do you want to see it? It’s all As and Bs, I worked really hard this term, and I got a good grade on my history project. You remember, right? I made a diorama of the Alamo.”

  Serena’s father picked the newspaper off the hall table, rolled his eyes, and sat down at the table.

  “Jeez, Serena, don’t you ever do anything besides talk? Why don’t you heat up the oven and cook me a pot pie? Do something useful for a change.”

  Her face falling, I watched the last spark of childhood and laughter and confidence turned black and cold and insecure. It couldn’t have been the first time he treated her with such contempt; certainly not the first time a parent had brushed her excitement aside. I imagined her dreams and aspirations had been similarly snuffed, and it was suddenly clear to me that Serena’s turn toward the dark side hadn’t had anything to do with me at all. A blow to my ego that I could totally live with.

  Sympathy flooded up from my gut, slammed into the logic born of all my memories of Serena, and turned my emotions to whackadoodle soup.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, and if you ever tell anyone I did, I’ll deny it until my face turns blue, but that was totally uncalled for. The way they treated you wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

  “Shut up, Balefire. Just shut up.” Holding back tears lent Serena’s voice a husky quality. “I’d rather be hung up by my toenails than have you see what you just saw.”

  “Don’t worry; I wasn’t planning on hugging it out with you. I’d rather eat a scab.”

  “That could be arranged.” She slammed a shoulder into my arm on her way past me.

  The physical contact triggered one of those visions I’d been having lately. Or maybe it was a series of memories. Serena at eleven in her little pink dress, then at twelve wearing black from head to toe. By fourteen, the sour expression had settled so totally on her face that few would remember the bright and shining girl she’d once been. I was as guilty of that oversight as anyone else.

  Suddenly, shame joined sympathy in an overwhelming surge of emotion I tried to shove back down. I deserved to feel bad; every spell she’d ever winged my way had been infused with pain and suffering, and I chose to turn a blind eye. And every retaliatory strike of my own carried harmful intent, as well. I’d blamed Serena for hurting me, but I’d never done anything to deserve her confidence, and I certainly hadn�
�t attempted to repair the breach when I had the chance.

  No wonder things weren’t working out for me. I was finally getting what I deserved, having set events in motion long ago. That the ill-intentions of my past were coming back to bite me in the butt now, when I needed a bit of good karmic return, wasn’t all that surprising. After all, it makes the most sense. Serena was no angel either, but her debts weren’t my concern, and her actions didn’t justify my own.

  Wouldn’t Salem be proud of me for owning up to my mistakes? I thought, just as our time ran out.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  SHEER PANDEMONIUM MET my ears as Serena and I tumbled back to the present and became corporeal again, to be interrupted by a few moments of silence before resuming at a decibel that should have cut glass.

  Salem and Kin lunged for Serena, who leaped off of where she’d had me pinned to the ground and scuttled across the floor to cower as far away from Flix as she could get. I didn’t blame her; Carl’s lack of bodily harm hadn’t softened his expression or mitigated his need for vengeance. Something of a suicide mission—Serena knew if she didn’t succeed, she probably wouldn’t be walking away in one piece.

  “I need to find Jett.” She screamed, attempting to pierce Flix with a withering glare, but his Fae was showing through, and the diatribe ended before it could begin. The sob she let out next, combined with what I had just witnessed regarding Serena’s past, pierced my heart, “Bring him back, please.” The fact that she was willing to sacrifice her dignity for someone who cared so little about her was the worst part.

  How is it possible to despise someone and feel sorry for them at the same time?

  “I’m happy to send you to join him, witch, but if you think I’m going to help you after the stunt you just pulled, you’re even more daft than I thought you were.” Flix retorted. I doubted a sledgehammer would be enough to smash through Flix’s hardened heart; not that I could blame him. I’d spit fire after Jett almost got Kin killed, and nearly killed Serena myself during one of our encounters; somehow, it didn’t feel so righteous anymore. “Besides, your precious Jett isn’t even in the Faelands anymore—he escaped, and didn’t care enough about you to even check in.”