Blood Witch_ Book Three - Cate Tiernan [47]
“Are you going to be busy tonight?” Mom asked, averting her eyes. She knew we usually had circles on Saturday nights.
“I’m seeing Cal,” I said.
She nodded and thankfully left it at that.
As soon as I was dressed, I went outside and walked around the house. As far as I could tell, I couldn’t feel the effects of a spell’s magick. Which could very well be part of the spell, of course. Slowly I circled our entire house. I saw no sign of anything. No hexes spray painted on the house, no dead animals hanging from trees. Then again, I knew the signs would be infinitely more subtle than that.
Weirdly enough, even the snow-covered ground betrayed no footprints, though it hadn’t snowed since before my visitors had arrived. I searched and searched but saw no trace of anyone’s having been in our yard at all—except me, just now. Frowning, I shook my head. Had it all been an illusion? Had it been part of my scrying? How much could I trust my own perceptions? But I remembered the images I had seen—so clearly, too—the sights, sounds, and smells that had accompanied my fire scrying.
Most of all I remembered Maeve, standing by her house, smiling and pointing.
Maeve had lived in Meshomah Falls, two hours away. I glanced at my watch, then went inside to call Cal.
“What happened to your car?” Robbie asked half an hour later. We were in the front seat of Das Boot; I had just picked him up. Thankfully the car still worked, although the right headlight had been shattered and there was a massive dent in the front bumper. When I had called Cal, he hadn’t been home—Selene had said he was out shopping, and she wasn’t sure when he’d be back. Somehow, speaking to Selene calmed me down. I thought of asking her if he’d gotten my witch message, but my mom was in the room and I didn’t want to bring it up in front of her. I’d ask Cal later.
Fortunately Robbie had been home, and he was a happy second choice for the road trip I had planned.
“I went into a ditch last night,” I said with a grimace. “Slid on the ice.” I didn’t mention the lights I’d seen. That was something I’d only talk to Cal about. Whatever was going on, I didn’t want to drag Robbie into it.
“Man,” said Robbie. “Were you hurt?”
“No. But I have to get my headlight fixed. Big pain.”
Robbie opened a map across the dashboard as I pulled away from his house. The day was rapidly clearing: I had a hope of actual sunshine before too long. It was still cold, but the snow and ice were melting slowly, and the streets were wet, the gutters running with water.
“You’re looking for a town called Meshomah Falls. It should be north, right up the Hudson,” I told him, turning onto the road that would lead to the highway. “About two, two and a half hours away.”
“Oh, okay,” he said, tracing his finger over the map. “I see it. Yeah, take Route 9 north until we get to Hookbridge Falls.”
After a quick stop for gas and a supply of junk food, we were on our way. Bree and I used to go on road trips all the time: just day trips to malls or cool places to hike or little artists’ colonies. We had felt so free, so unstoppable. But I tried not to dredge up those memories. Now they just filled me with pain.
“Want a chip?” Robbie offered, and I dug a hand into the bag.
“Have you talked to Bree yet?” I asked, unable to tear my mind from her. “About how you feel?”
He shook his head. “I’ve sort of tried, but it hasn’t actually come up. I guess I’m a coward.”
“No, you’re not,” I said. “But she can be hard to approach.”
He shrugged. “You know, Bree asks about you, too,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you always ask about her. Well, she asks about you, too. I mean, she never says anything nice about you, you both say mean things about the other one, but even a total idiot could tell that you two miss each other.”
My face felt stiff as I stared out the window.
“Just thought you should know,” he added.
We didn’t say another word for the next sixty miles—not until we saw a sign for the Hookbridge Falls exit. By then the sky had cleared, and it was open and