It didn’t take long for me to share with Michael my most recent brush with Nell’s mind. He listened, pushing food in front of me every now and then. His expression was grave.
“So it sounds like it was your chem. teacher who pushed her over the edge with this,” he observed when I had finished.
“It didn’t make her happy,” I agreed. “She’s planning something drastic for Amber. I wish I could believe it was just a figure of speech—well, thought—but I really don’t think it was. What I heard was just so black.”
“What do you mean?”
“It wasn’t pain, and it wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even really fury. I just heard intensity. Hate, definitely. But she wasn’t really angry with me—she only feels contempt toward me. I’m hardly a blip on her radar. But she’s determined to show Ms. Lacusta that she’s…” I furrowed my brow, trying to describe what I’d heard. “Worthy, maybe? Worthwhile? I don’t know. She’s trying to prove something, and that’s more important to Nell than anything else.”
“But you still think it has something to do with—” he lowered his voice, “—witchcraft?”
I had to be honest about this. “She never thought anything specifically about that,” I admitted slowly. “I never heard anything about spells or powers in so many words. But given her history—what you told me on Saturday, what your parents told me—it just seems obvious.”
Michael’s eyes were steady on mine. “The obvious answer isn’t always the right answer. Didn’t you once tell me that when people don’t understand something, they look for the most reasonable explanation, even if it’s the wrong one?”
I raised my eyebrows. “I just told you what I heard Nell thinking today. I didn’t give you any of my own commentary. But admit it, your first conclusion was the same as mine. And you call witchcraft reasonable?”
He was quiet as he ate the last piece of fruit on my plate. I closed my eyes and leaned toward him, trying only to feel his mood, not to hear his thoughts. What I felt was deep concern and a brooding indecision. I understood. On one hand, he wanted to agree with me, to tell me he had my back. On the other, he worried that doing that would put me in danger, either real physical peril or the less worrisome risk of humiliation.
His concern warmed me, but at the same time, I was impatient. I knew without a doubt that Nell had deadly intents toward Amber. It was hard to explain to someone who couldn’t hear thoughts how different it was from overhearing that person speak or even talking to her directly. Most people speak with an audience in mind, even if that is just one person. But unvoiced thoughts are so primitive and gut-level real that second-guessing motives is an exercise in futility, particularly if that person doesn’t know that what she’s thinking is being heard by someone else.
“I want to explain something to you,” I began. “When we’ve talked about my talent, we’ve mostly discussed technique, its limitations and so on… how I can control it or not. But I’d like you to consider this: my parents have known for most of my life what I can do. Even though I extend them the courtesy of not listening on purpose and really try not to hear anything accidentally even, they know that it’s a real possibility that I might slip up. I might relax my mental curtain and hear something. So taking all that into consideration, wouldn’t you expect their thoughts would be very guarded? But I can tell you that I have heard, completely by accident, some things that I never wanted to hear from either of them.”
Michael looked puzzled. “Okay. I understand, I think, but I don’t get what this has to do with Nell.”
“Remember when we first met, after you knew what I could do? Weren’t there times you thought things that you wished you hadn’t, because you weren’t sure if I were listening or not?”
He made a face that I knew was embarrassment at the memory and ducked his head. I wondered how often he still tried to censor his thoughts on the off chance I might be tuning into them.
“My point is, if you and my parents, knowing there was a real possibility that your thoughts aren’t always private, cannot control what you’re thinking, what makes you think Nell can or would? When I hear something from her—from anyone who doesn’t know about me—you can bet it’s a pretty reliable source. She doesn’t have any motive to think dishonestly. Add that to what I can pick up from her mood and feelings, and I tell you, this is serious, it’s bad and I’m willing to bet Nell is trying to follow in her mom’s footsteps.”
“Would you be thinking that if you didn’t know her past?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I might not have gotten it right away, but I think I would have come around to it eventually. It makes absolute sense when you consider what I saw her thinking and what I heard today.”
“But what if it’s just—kind of wishful thinking on Nell’s part? Just something that crossed her mind, not a real plan?”
I shook my head. “No. Not this time. When she first thought about a blood sacrifice, it was new. It had just occurred to her. Last week, it was less… formed. It was something that she was considering. Today there was real intent. It was a concrete plan.” I rubbed my hand over my forehead, remembering. “And even more, there was a sort of madness there I hadn’t really seen before. She’s beyond reason now.”
Michael took a deep breath. “So what do we do? We’re back to that. Nothing has changed as far as evidence.”
I nodded my agreement, but something had occurred to me that morning. “The thing is, now we do have a clue as to the timing. Something in what Nell was thinking—it was a strange way to phrase it, but I remember it clearly—the fullness of time is within the fullness of the moon. That sounds like something she might have read—or maybe a spell?” I tilted my head questioningly.
“The fullness of time is within the fullness of the moon…” Michael mused. “So you’re assuming she plans to do something to Amber during the next full moon.”
“Something that involves spilling blood. When is the next full moon?”
Michael laughed, without humor. “It’s this weekend. Remember, the Harvest Moon Dance?”
I groaned. “I didn’t know they actually timed the dance according to the moon.” Then I perked up. “Hey, if we have to worry about watching out for Amber, that means we’ll have to miss the dance, right?”
“Now how can you say that, after I know you spent yesterday dress shopping? Your mother would be crushed. No, we’ll still go. It’ll probably be a really good opportunity to keep our eyes on both Amber and Nell. Didn’t Anne say Nell was on the planning committee? So she’ll almost definitely be there.”
I sighed in resignation. “Yes. Oh, well. Do we know if Amber is going? I could ask her, but it’s a safe bet she wouldn’t answer me.”
“Can you pick it out of her mind?” Michael questioned.
“I can listen to see if she’s thinking about it, but no, you know I can’t just go around getting random information from people’s minds.”
“I can probably ask around and find out. So that’s our plan? Watch Amber during the full moon? I’ll need to check a lunar calendar to see how many days the moon is going to be full, when it starts. And of course technically the moon is only full for one night, so it would be good to find out if Nell’s idea of the full moon is scientific or mystical.”
“What do you mean, technically?”
Michael looked at me, shaking his head in mock sadness. “Science, my dear. Astronomy. Although the moon appears to be full more than one night each month, actually only on one night is it technically considered a genuinely full moon. So if Nell is going by science, we’d have to find out which night is the true full moon.”
“Can you do that?” I queried.
“Of course I can. But how can we be sure whether or not Nell will go by that?”
“We can’t. We’ll have to find some way to keep an eye on her each of the nights that the moon is full, scientifically nor not. I’ll keep listening to her this week, too, to try and narrow it down.”
Michael scowled. “I don?
??t like that idea. Messing with Nell’s mind isn’t good for you.”
“But it’s our best way of getting information and keeping track of what she’s planning. And she just might give me something that’ll narrow down that window of time.” I reached across the table and laid my hand over Michael’s. “Really, I’ll be careful. She won’t know, and now that I’m more prepared, I can deal with it. I didn’t even almost lose consciousness today.”
“Maybe not, but you’re still very pale—don’t think I didn’t notice—and you’ve hardly eaten anything. It makes me crazy to think about you putting yourself at risk.” He glanced at his watch and expelled a long breath. “Lunch is just about over. You’ve got to get to class. Listen, be careful this afternoon, and we’ll talk more after school. I’ll see you at my car.”
He looked so troubled that my own resolve faltered a bit. I climbed off the bench and leaned over to touch my lips to his cheek. He grasped my shoulders and held my face close to his. He looked at me intensely, as though trying to see into my soul. Then he relaxed slightly and pulled me close to him.
“Hey, I love you, okay? Don’t forget.”
I stood up and threw him a saucy look. “As if I could. See you in a couple of hours.”
Somehow I made it to History on time. I slid into my seat moments before Mr. Frame began handing out thick packets of white paper, each stapled in the right-hand corner.
History test! It had completely slipped my mind all morning, preoccupied as I had been. I was fairly confident that I knew the material, but still, it made me jittery to face a test I wasn’t mentally prepared to take.
Mr. Frame was still in the front of the room, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on pushing the drone of thoughts out of my head. I had almost done it when I felt a tap on the shoulder.
“Hey,” Cara whispered. “Are you okay? I wondered where you were at lunch.”
I hate getting in trouble for talking in class, particularly in a test-taking situation. But I also knew I couldn’t be rude to Cara. I leaned my head back slightly, keeping my eye on Mr. Frame’s progress.
“Sorry, sometimes Michael and I eat outside,” I murmured in answer. “I’ll talk to you after the test, all right?” Without waiting for a response, I moved forward again and pulled out a pencil.
The test was challenging, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I finished about ten minutes before the end of class, and then I spent the rest of the time trying to listen to Nell carefully. It was hard to hear her when so many other people were thinking so loudly, I observed crossly. Every time I lowered my mental block, all I could hear were complaints about the test, people mentally hyperventilating about questions they couldn’t answer and the meanderings of those who had finished or already knew that they didn’t have a chance of passing. I sighed in frustration.
Nell was bent over her desk, and I couldn’t tell whether or not she had turned in her test. I closed my eyes and focused on her boldly this time.
…Casey is poking her nose in where it doesn’t belong. She’s really beginning to annoy me. They all have to see that I’m in charge, I’m the one who knows everything. Maybe she’ll be the next one. She wants to know why we bother with Amber. She has no idea. And I saw her talking with Marica, trying to turn her against me… ah, soon they’ll understand.
The bell rang, making me jump and effectively ending any chance of hearing more from Nell. Instead I was overwhelmed by the sudden noise of twenty-two students thinking loud thoughts of relief, dread and resignation as the test ended. Nell was up and out of the classroom so quickly that I hardly saw her leave.
I nearly forgot to finish my conversation with Cara. She was looking at me expectantly as we moved to the door.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I’m paranoid about getting yelled at for talking in class.”
Cara raised her eyebrows in amusement. “Does it happen often?”
“Not for good reason. I’ve gotten in trouble for answering people who asked me for a pencil or whatever, and that annoys me.”
She laughed. “I know what you mean. Sorry. I just wondered about where you were at lunch.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. Every once in a while we eat outside, especially when we need to talk.”
Cara’s eyes were unreadable as she asked me, “Is… everything all right with you two? I mean, I hope nothing is wrong.” I felt mostly curiosity coming from her, even though I found her questions a little odd.
“No, everything’s fine. We just sometimes like to have a little privacy. The lunch table crowd is fun, but it can get a little loud!” I laughed.
“I guess so,” Cara agreed. “But I really like them. Did you know I’m going to the dance Friday with everyone? Dan told me they usually go as a group.”
“I’m so glad,” I told her, and I meant it sincerely. “I hope you have fun.”
“You’ll be there, too, won’t you? You and Michael?”
I smothered a sigh and nodded. “Yes, we’ll be there,” I replied, trying to keep the note of grimness from my voice. “I’m heading for Math. See you later!”
I spent most of my Trig class brooding over what I hadn’t learned from Nell. So I knew she was miffed at Casey. That didn’t help with anything. What was interesting, I realized, was Nell’s reference to Marica. I knew she was thinking of Ms. Lacusta—there weren’t two of that name in a small town like King—but it was the context, the jealousy once again, that struck me. Michael had been right. It was Ms. Lacusta’s attention to me that had enraged Nell this morning, and in History she had been annoyed, remembering that Casey was chatting up the teacher.
I thought about Nell’s mother, deserting her young and vulnerable child. Maybe she hadn’t seen it as such, in the grip of her madness, but in effect, she had chosen her obsession with the married doctor over the needs of her small daughter. I had seen enough afternoon talk shows to recognize that Nell would still have abandonment issues. I wondered if those issues could have anything to do with her current relationship with Ms. Lacusta. And that relationship seriously creeped me out.