Home > The Initiation (The Secret Circle #1)(43)

The Initiation (The Secret Circle #1)(43)
Author: L.J. Smith

Cassie bit her lip. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on that nagging worry, another thought was pushing it out of her mind.

Or, not a thought so much as a hope, the sudden glimpse of a possibility.

Love potions. And finding things out. Something to find him and bring him to her. Was there such a spell? She seemed to feel in her bones that there was.

To find him… the boy with the blue-gray eyes. Warmth pooled in Cassie's stomach and her palms tingled. The very possibility seemed to lift her on wings. Oh, please, if she could only ask one thing…

“Supposing,” she said, and was relieved to hear her voice sound normal, “you wanted to, say, find somebody you'd met and lost track of. Somebody you-liked, and wanted to see again. Would there be any kind of a spell for that?”

Laurel's brown eyes sparkled again. “Now, is this a boy-type person we're supposing about here?” she said.

“Yes.” Cassie knew she was blushing again.

“Well-“ Laurel glanced at Melanie, who was shaking her head in a resigned way, then turned back to Cassie. “I'd say something like a simple tree spell. Trees are attuned to things like love and friendship, anything that grows and brings life. And fall is a good time to use things you harvest, like apples. So I'd do an apple spell. In one, you take an apple and split it. Then you take two needles-ordinary sewing needles-and put one through the eye of the other and bind them together with thread. Then put them inside the apple and close it up again. Tie it so it stays closed. Then tie it back on the tree and say some words to tell the tree what you want.”

“What kind of words?”

“Oh, a poem or something,” Laurel said. “Something to invoke the power of the tree and help you visualize what you're asking for. It's best to make it rhyme. I'm not good at making up that kind of thing, but, like: 'Friendly tree, friendly tree, bring my special friend to me.' “

No. Not quite, Cassie thought, a thrill going through her. Laurel's words were changing in her mind, transforming, expanding. She seemed to hear a voice, bell clear and yet remote.

Bud and blossom, leaf and tree,

Find him, bind him, now to me.

Shoot and seedling, root and bough,

Threads of love entwine us now.

Her lips moved soundlessly with the words. Yes, she knew somehow in the very core of her that that was right. That was the spell… but would she really dare to use it?

Yes. For him, I'd risk anything, she thought. She stared down at her fingers as they absently combed through the sand. Tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow I'll do it. And then afterward I'll spend every minute of every day watching and hoping. Waiting for the time when I see a shadow and look up and it's him, or when I hear footsteps and turn and see him coming. Or when-

What happened next was so startling and unexpected that Cassie almost screamed.

A wet nose thrust under her hand.

What stopped her from screaming was something like heart failure; the shriek got to her throat, and then she actually saw the dog and everything went fuzzy. Her recoiling hand fell limply back. Her lips opened and closed silently. Through a blur and a mist she stared at the liquid brown eyes and the short, silky-bristly hairs on the muzzle. The dog stared back at her, mouth open and laughing, as if to say, “Aren't you happy to see me?”

Then Cassie raised her eyes to look at the dog's master.

He was looking down at her, as he had that day on the beach in Cape Cod. The moonlight tangled in his red hair, turning some strands to flame while others were dark as wine. His blue-gray eyes looked silver.

He'd found her.

Everything was motionless. The ocean's roar seemed hushed and distant, and Cassie was aware of no other sound. Even the breeze had died. It was as if the entire world was waiting.

Slowly, Cassie got to her feet.

The green shawl fell behind her, discarded. She could feel the cold, but only because it made her aware of her own body, of every part of it, tingling like electricity. Yet strangely, although she was keenly aware of her body, she also seemed to be floating above it. Just like the first time, she seemed to see herself– and him-standing there on the beach.

She could see herself in her thin white night-gown and bare feet, her hair loose on her shoulders, looking up at him. Like Clara in the Nutcracker ballet, she thought, when she wakes up in the middle of the night and looks at the Nutcracker Prince who's come to take her away into a world of magic. She felt like Clara. As if the moonlight had transformed her into something delicate and beautiful, something enchanted. As if he might take her in his arms right then and dance with her. As if in the moonlight they could dance forever.

They were gazing at each other. From the moment their eyes had met, neither of them had looked away. She could see the wonder in his face. As if he were as surprised to see her as she was to see him-but how could he be? He had found her; he must have been looking for her.

The silver cord, she thought. She couldn't see it now, but she could feel it, feel the vibrations of its power. She could feel it connecting them, heart to heart. The trembling went from her chest into her stomach, and then all over.

The cord was tightening, drawing them together. It was pulling her closer to him. Slowly, his hand came up and he reached out to her. She raised her own hand, to put it in his-

And there was a cry from behind her. The tall boy looked over her shoulder, distracted. And then his hand fell away.

Something came between them, something bright. Bright like sunlight, shattering Cassie's trance. It was Diana, and she was embracing the tall red-haired boy. She was holding him. No-they were holding each other. Cassie stared, stunned, at the sight of him with his arms around someone else. She was barely able to comprehend the words she heard next.

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