I’m beginning to resent this double life, all the sneaking and half-truths. Liv is supposed to be my best friend. I may not be ready to tell her what happened between Leo and me last night—not when I’m not sure yet what any of it means, and not while she’s so pro-Zander—but there are other things I could share with her. Things about the Clairs. And things about my ability.
I resolve to make progress on this front, then turn my attention back to Leo.
Me: I’m the one who should apologize. I stole all your energy.
Leo: So my experiment convinced you?
Me: Yes. Even if it was unethical.
I can harness the energy of emotions. I don’t really understand why or what I’m supposed to do with them, but Leo and Avery areright, harnessing is something I can learn to control. Something to practice and build on. And not as scary as I’d feared.
Leo: I was a willing lab rat. Btw, thanks for the candy. Without it I don’t know if I would’ve made it home.
Candy? I’d nearly forgotten about it. I peer over at the pile of chocolate bars on my desk. He took the Nestlé Crunch. I tell him I’m glad he got home in one piece, and he reminds me not to do any ancestor work if he’s not with me. All this fussing and worrying; we sound like we’re married.
As I settle at my desk to do some homework, my mind keeps wandering to him and to last night. To how fiercely he kissed me. My blood and skin grow hot. My fingers tingle.
I hear his breathless groan,It’s you I want.
And his sigh.I shouldn’t, but I do.
He’s wrestling with something: guilt, doubt, I don’t know what. Does it have anything to do with what he wanted to tell me before he fell asleep? Worry worms its way into my chest. As close as Leo and I have gotten, I know I’m not getting one hundred percent of him.
What—and why—is he holding back?
On Monday afternoon, low clouds blanket the sky and wet snow dots the grass and bushes. Liv will be in class for another hour, leaving me alone in our cozy, quiet room. It’s the perfect time for some witchcraft. Now that several days have passed, our ancestor ritual seems a little less traumatic and a lot more intriguing. I’m not stupid enough to try it again when I’m alone, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do some research on it.
I go to Avery’s book first and look upancestorsin the index, but the only reference is a brief section on setting up an ancestor altar.Meditation, maybe? As I flip to the M listings, my eye catches on an item under H:hedge riding. Wasn’t that the term Avery used?
According to a short passage near the end of the book, “hedgeriding” is what witches call traveling, in your spirit body, to other realms during a trance-like meditation. Because it’s considered an advanced practice, the book doesn’t tell me much about it, only that it’s important to protect yourself while doing it. If you don’t, you could—as Avery warned us the other night—lose your way home, or find yourself attacked or possessed by a harmful spirit.
I’m not sure why Leo had to shake me out of my meditation—if I’d gotten lost or led astray or what? But if there are things I can do to “travel” more safely, I want to learn about them. My gut tells me that my swimming experience was significant, that someone was trying to reach me, trying to tell me something important. And the only way to learn more is to go back. Not right now, but someday.
I search the internet, hoping to find some hedge riding protection practices I could experiment with this afternoon. Of course, carrying a black crystal is at the top of every list. Too bad the black tourmaline didn’t work for me; maybe I need a whole handful of crystals. I could try envisioning a red thread tying me to this realm, a technique called “tethering.” Or I could use an animal guide to scare away malevolent spirits and lead me back home. As an animal-lover, I like this idea best, but since I’d have to go into a deep trance to meet my guide, it’s not an option for today.
Shielding, however, is another popular technique, and since it’s something Avery has recommended, I figure it’s safe for me to try this afternoon. I choose a “cloak shield” meditation from her book and cleanse for myself a space on the floor. Once I’m seated and still, grounded and centered, I set out to visualize a thick, hooded cape that covers me from head to toe. With my breath slow and steady, and my intuition stirring in the darkness behind my closed eyes, I evoke the sensation of a plush, warm velvet draped on my shoulders. Only, to my surprise, it’s a damp—no,dripping—fabric that I feel. Heavy but not crushing, wet but not cold. It’s a strange sort of armor, but wearing it, I feel as safe as if I were encased in steel.
With no more than a few deep breaths and a stretch, I pull myself out of the light meditation. I don’t know why I envisioned such acloak—me, who hates water, or who at least hates to swim—but Leo or Avery might have some theories.
With all my witchcraft tools out, I figure it’s as good a time as any to cleanse my amethyst. It may be all in my mind, but since Friday night when I siphoned all my friends’ energy, it’s felt warmer and heavier than usual. I hold it up close, studying the purple swirls. Which of Avery and Aaron’s emotions are trapped in there? Which of Leo’s? When I drew from him, did all his energy go into me, or did the amethyst absorb just enough to keep me from getting too overwhelmed?
I press the stone to my heart and cover it completely with my hand. Maybe I can read it in the same way I read the Tarot cards. Since I’m still relaxed from my shielding meditation, it takes me no time at all to center and focus. I close my eyes and concentrate as I draw the crystal’s energy into my center, letting it fill me. Then I justfeel.
There may be some of Avery and Aaron’s emotions in there, but it’s Leo’s contradictory ones that dominate. All of his angst and worry and indecision. Soon they’re crowding out the others, elbowing their way into my every crevice and corner. Heart pounding, I scramble to retrieve them, but it’s like trying to herd spilled marbles on a hardwood floor. I corral one and two roll away. I scoop a handful into the pile and they knock ten more across the room. In a panic, I gather as much turbulent energy as I can and shoot it back into the amethyst.
Shuddering, I snap my eyes open and set the necklace on the floor, distancing myself from the storm raging inside it. I light the lavender bundle once again, blowing on it until fragrant smoke curls upwards from the glowing embers. Then, taking the necklace by the chain, I pass the amethyst through the smoke at least a dozen times. I don’t need to be carrying around my friends’ emotions.
Especially not Leo’s.
After stamping out the herb bundle, I put the necklace back on,confident that it’s now cleansed. Only a few minutes later, while I’m still cleaning up, Liv gets back from her class.
She sniffs as she tosses her backpack onto her bed. “It smells good in here. Did you get a new scented candle?”
“No.” I hold up the bundled herbs. “I was burning this.”
“Oh, is that sage?”
“Lavender.”
