Smiling, she steered him out of the alcove, chatting lightly about sports drinks versus sodas.
Binx’s gaze moved from Ridley (who looked totally freaked out) to Greta (ditto) to Mira (ditto) to Aysha (ditto, although she was trying her best to hide it).
Binx was right there with them.
So there really were Antima at the school now.
Which meant that the shadow messages might not be a Triad super-prank, after all.
Which was not good.
7 CHOICE OF EVILS
Magic is a choice between the Light and the Dark. The choice is ultimately yours.
(FROM THE GOOD BOOK OF MAGIC AND MENTALISM BY CALLIXTA CROWE)
Div sat at the pearl-colored vanity table in her room and scrutinized the three jars in front of her. Each one contained a different lock of hair.
She’d come home early from school, skipping the last two periods, to study her copy of the shadow message and determine its true origin. (She’d faked a fever, which was perfectly easy to do with a calor spell—also, Nurse Jacinta was beyond gullible). She had the big house to herself—Uncle Paul was at his law office, and Aunt Marta was doing a three-hour Pamper Yourself package at the spa, as she did every Wednesday—which meant that Div could practice magic openly and also let Prada roam freely. No doubt her familiar was slithering around the kitchen, searching for something small and wriggly to squeeze to death; she was overdue for a meal.
Aunt Marta had been talking about getting a little purse dog, which would not be a good idea… at least not for the dog.
The jars. Div considered them for a moment, then rearranged the order from left to right, based on priority. Now the jar containing Binx’s hair (from her cyan phase last spring) was on the left; the one containing Greta’s curly auburn hair was in the middle; and the one containing Ridley’s coily black hair was on the right. Div had been collecting these samples secretly for the past year or so, with a tiny pair of cuticle-trimming scissors and some distraction spells. (She had hair samples from other people, too, stowed away in the back of her closet in neatly labeled jars. Who knew when they might come in handy?)
She set the shadow message on top of Binx’s jar. She needed to rule out the possibility that someone in Greta’s coven had authored it. If that were the case, Binx would be the most likely culprit, given her personality and her predilection for childish stunts.
Also, to be honest, Binx had skills. Even though Greta was the self-appointed leader of their coven, Div sometimes wondered if Binx might not be the superior witch—or at least the more creative witch, willing (like Div herself) to experiment with and expand on the limited teachings in Crowe’s book. (In fact, Div had tried to poach Binx from Greta over the summer, but to no avail. The girl had actually laughed in her face—so obnoxious.)
Div hadn’t let on to the others at lunchtime, but she’d been greatly unnerved by the double shadow messages and the vending machine interloper with the shoulder patch (she’d learned that his name was Brandon Fiske, and that he was a junior). She was aware, of course, of the Antima’s activities around the country, the escalating violence and virulence of their methods. For months, she’d been following a number of different Antima subgroups on social media (they all had stupid, self-important names like the Truth Bearers and the Guardians of Light and the Sons of Maximus), for strategy purposes. She wanted to understand the enemy. Their beliefs… their goals… what they meant when they called witches like her “abominations of nature” and “threats to society”… why they considered themselves “heroes” and “patriots.” (Some Antima, though, apparently didn’t have an online presence, and organized and communicated in some other way—Div wasn’t sure how.) She wondered if Brandon was the only Antima at their school, or if there were others.
She wondered, too, if the Antima were driven by sexism and misogyny (which was one theory). Although from what she could tell, there were female Antima members. But why would they join a cause that was anti-women? Of course, they could be doing this for protection, to make sure the Antima didn’t turn against them.
And did the Antima have an extra layer of animus against queer women? She and Aysha were both bi; so was Greta.
She touched Binx’s jar. Hopefully Mira and Aysha were right. Better to deal with childish stunts than with the Antima.
“Aequo,” she murmured.
No reaction. The shadow message didn’t shimmer or change color, and neither did the lock of hair.
She envisioned shimmers and colors in her mind. “Aequo!”
Still nothing.
Frowning, she repeated the enchantment with Greta’s jar, then Ridley’s. No shimmering, no color changes.
So it wasn’t them.
Which meant that the Antima might have her in their sights, after all.
Which was a problem. A serious problem.
Div grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts to find Greta’s number. They would deal with this threat together; they would end this threat together. Back in eighth grade, when they’d had their little coven of two, they’d been an incredible team. They’d both been skilled at harvesting the natural world for magical use. Herbs, plants, minerals… whatever could be found in nature, they could utilize as ingredients for their craft. And they’d been so good at it. They’d inspired each other, challenged each other (and this was way before Crowe’s book).
Then Div had started to explore the darker aspects of the natural world. While Greta continued to focus on healing and fixing and growing, Div began to focus on manipulating and breaking and destroying. She tried to get Greta interested in this new direction, too, but to no avail. Greta was just too… pure. So stubbornly dogmatic
