Chapter 7: Elinor

Night fell while I was dozing in the technical room on the ground floor of the Wiccard Academy. Moaning, I get up and rub my lower back. I had the bad idea to doze off against a broom.

I don’t feel good. Not good at all. A terrible migraine pounding my head, and I still feel nauseous, even though my stomach is empty. Flashes come back to me, violent, bloody, terrifying. Did I dream everything that happened since last night? Did Levenach send me home? Was there really someone waiting in my car to assassinate me and did… did I really blow that person up?

To be sure, I grope in the dark to find the switch. The light springs forth, white and raw. I turn it off immediately. I got my answer, my clothes and skin are mottled brown. Dried blood.

I can’t stay like this, I can’t stay here. I also remember calling Six to let her know… And Neeve? Was she attacked too? She was supposed to work today. I find it hard to believe that anyone could have tried to attack her right in the middle of the BONC offices... But after all, didn’t they want to kill me in the parking lot of a school, in broad daylight? It’s a crazy story.

A wave of anguish seized me. I grab my bag and search furiously in its folds. A teacher’s bag is not a cliché. There’s everything in there. Pens, markers, scraps of paper, brushes, children’s drawings, chalk, handkerchiefs, and not always very clean… Everything, except what I need, right there, right now. Panicked, I empty the entire contents onto the bare concrete floor. But I have to face the facts. I no longer have my meds.

I have trouble breathing. An icy sweat runs down my back, and the retching seizes me again. On my knees, I burst into tears, while my stomach twists painfully. I feel miserable, holed up in this goddamn broom closet. Miserable, and in danger.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale...

I need to calm down. I lie on the hard, cold ground, close my eyes, and take the time to clear my mind. It’s my shrink who tries to teach me some techniques to prevent me from throwing myself on the little pills with each increase in stress. Usually, we can’t say that it works crazy. But usually, I have meds in my bag. Now, I have no choice, I have to find a solution to get back on my feet and go back home. There, I can medicate myself, see if the girls are home, wash myself, change my clothes, and find a solution to get out of this mess...

Just the thought makes my heart race again. Don’t think about what’s next. Stay in the present moment.

Despite everything, little by little, my heart rate calms down, and my breathing no longer makes that nasty noise of asthmatic bellows. The tremors in my hands subside. It’s only temporary, I know. Strangely, a little voice deep inside me reminds me that it’s time for me to take charge. OK, it’s noted. But later, okay?

Finally, I can get up. I look up at the barred window. It is quite dark now, and the moon, round, full and milky white, is high in the sky. It’s not going to be easy to slip through the darkness, but its presence reassures me, as always.

I stuff all my things in my bag and keep my set of school keys in my hand. I did well to take refuge in this room because it opens directly onto the outside. In silence, I go out into the street, then close behind me. There is nobody. Silence reigns. I usually like the silence. But here, this absence of noise has something oppressive. The night tastes and smells of danger lurking in the shadows.

Too bad, I can’t stay here. With a hurried step, I take the streets that separate me from the loft. I could have taken my car back… But no, I imagine that someone must have noticed the carnage in the passenger compartment and reported it. The idea occurs to me that I should either be considered dead or wanted for murder. Well, maybe not very actively, if no one has thought to search the broom cupboards.

For a moment, I wonder if I shouldn’t better go home. Not the loft in which I live with Neeve and Sixine. Rather, the family castle, this improbable Gothic construction on the shores of Mona Lake. Yes, I know, my family owns a castle not far from a lake that bears our name. It’s because we come from a long line of sorcerers, established in the region for a long time.

The idea of taking refuge in the arms of my father, Luthor, seized me. I imagine my mother making me one of her favourite infusions while sliding a plate filled with cinnamon buns under my nose and brooding over me with her worried gaze… Worried. That’s why I can’t go back to the castle. I might worry my parents. My sister Liv is already causing them so much trouble… Besides, I need to know if my friends are okay. If they are still alive. And it won’t take long for the great Luthor Mona to guess that I’m still plagued by my demons. I’m going to disappoint him again… there’s no way I’m adding problems to my parents.

Heart clenched with anguish, I hurry again. It isn’t very far now.

Finally, I see the tall silhouette of the old textile factory which housed our loft apartment.

I stop at the corner of the street, sheltering under a porch so as not to be seen. Despite my anxiety and the urgency that I feel roaring in my veins, I take the time to observe the surroundings. I don’t see anything or anyone. That doesn’t mean the place is deserted, but… I’ll have to try my luck. I slip from shadow to shadow as far as I can. On the last metres, I have to run in the open to reach the heavy steel gate, which conceals the entrance to our reserved area. I manage it without difficulty. Either there aren’t any enemies nearby, or…well, I’m dealing with some smartass who’d rather have the three of us at once.

I unlock the gate, which squeaks horribly. Shit. I slip inside. Not a sound. Not a light. That’s fishy. Neeve always forgets to turn it off. Ears filled with the beating of my own heart, I climbed the stairs in stealth mode. We haven’t fitted out the ground floor, and the old sewing machines cast eerie shadows on the walls spattered with lunar whiteness.

Finally, I reach the loft. There too, everything is bathed in lunar waves. It’s beautiful, these large openings, but when your life is wanted, you quickly regret not having curtains or shutters.

Taking a deep breath, I call:

"Neeve? Sixine? It’s me…"

"Shhhhh, but you’re stupid or what, yelling like that?"

Just hearing that voice could make me cry with relief. Neeve is there. And Six?

"Are you alone?"

"No, I’m here too," replies Sixine. "But shut up!"

"Where are you?"

"In the kitchen," Neeve replies in one of those magnificent shout-whispers she’s used to.

I roll my eyes. Not the right time to explain to her that she’s no more discreet than me.

Without hesitation, I head for our kitchen. I know the places so well that I could walk around with my eyes closed. And then, tonight, with all this light... Besides, it’s crazy, that the moon is so bright. My attention keeps coming back to it, but I can’t quite put my finger on what’s bothering me.

Finally, I find my friends sitting on the floor. Each holds a glass in her hand. Between them sits a well-opened bottle of wine.

"OK. So while I was crossing Wolf Creek to join you, clenching my ass so as not to be killed by another psychopathic killer, you were quietly boozing at home, right?

"Hey, okay, Eli. We’ve had a rough day too, can you imagine," Six replies, throwing another swig down her throat.

"Rough how?"

"Rough as in they also tried to kill us.

"No! Where and how?"

"Right in the middle of the bank," Neeve replies, looking bored.

"At the refreshment bar at the Courthouse," continues Six.

Wow. Indeed, the situation is much more serious than I imagined. One attempted murder sucks, but three…"

"Are you hurt?" my friends are immediately worried.

"No. Not injured. But I need my pills to calm me down."

Neeve helps me sit next to her, and I rest my head on her shoulder. She may be completely crazy, but I always feel good when I’m with her. She reassures me. It must come from the type of magic she practices, nature, all that… But my mind is confused. I feel so bad, and the adrenaline plummeting through my veins isn’t helping.

"Sixine, don’t you want to go see if you find anything in the bathroom? Poor thing, she’s shaking like a leaf."

They know exactly where I stash my supplies, just in case.

"Yeah, great, so it’s up to me to go for a walk in front of the windows and take a bullet, right?"

"Six…" growls Neeve. "They were sorcerers. They don’t use guns. I’m too tired to cast a protection spell, and so are you and Eli. Get low and go get those fucking pills."

Sixine sighs.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my friend who gets on all fours and begins to crawl along the bay windows, taking care to keep her head down. New shivers, incoercible, seize me. The moon, Sixine moving on all fours, the smell of fresh moss emanating from Neeve...

"Oooooh…"

"What? Here, have a drink while waiting for your magic pill."

And Neeve holds her drink under my nose. I swallow a big swig of red liquid, then a second, a third… I often make fun of my friend and her way of filling her glasses to the brim, but here, I admit that the usefulness of this excess is blatant.

The wine flows down my throat, as sweet as honey, and warms my insides. I hadn’t realized I was so cold. Still, even though I feel better, I know that’s not what my body is crying out for.

Finally, Sixine returns; she holds out her hand to me, palm open, and I see my precious pill on her pale skin. I grab it right away and throw it down my throat. I don’t have time to swallow it and I already feel alive again.

"Only take one, we can’t afford for you to end up stoned, with a trickle of drool at the corner of your lips," adds Neeve. "We need to talk."

I growl. They won’t even let me enjoy the well-being that is gradually taking hold of me. The noose of anxiety loosens its grip on my chest and, finally, I have the feeling that my thoughts are freed. I feel less miserable. Stronger. And more stoned too, I admit.

"Good. Where do we start?" asks Sixine.

"Look, girls, we’ll keep it short," Neeve announces. "The dead woman probably didn’t commit suicide. We have to escape, and as soon as possible."

"What? But I was thinking of going to the police station instead, and…"

"The cops can’t do anything for us, Six. I brought in Levenach, at the BONC, there was so much damage. He got a call about what happened to you, and he heard about you too, Eli. When he heard that we had witnessed a suicide on the corner of Willsborough, he looked shocked. And he told me that we had to run away and make sure that no spell could locate us..."

A long silence follows this tirade from Neeve. It doesn’t look like Sixine, by the way, not to ask more questions than that. In me, on the other hand, anguish has reappeared and is knocking furiously at the doors of my foggy mind.

"Avoid locating spells? And he told you how to do that, your old friend Levenach?" says Sixine.

"No. He didn’t tell me anything more. He left, as usual."

"And you want us to do what, then?"

"But damn, I don’t know, Six!" Neeve gets angry. "I’m just telling you what he told me. We’re still targeted by an assassin, damn it!"

"Bah, precisely, when someone wants to assassinate you, you go to the police, and that’s it! We don’t take to our heels without knowing where we’re going..."

In the beneficent mist in which I wallow, I smile. Their argument has something so reassuring, so normal… I raise a hand, pale and slender as if to catch a moonbeam. I laugh, not even knowing why.

"But why is she laughing?" remarks Neeve, narrowing her deep hazel eyes.

"I imagine it must be the shock. Or maybe the mix of wine and pills she just gulped down."

I look at them. They are so beautiful, lit by the moon. Neeve, and her hair so red, it looks bloody. And Sixine, whose bluish reflections take on an almost metallic appearance… I laugh again, very gently… I know… I know!

"Girls…"

"No need to ask, Eli. You won’t get any more pills, honestly."

"No that’s not it. Listen… can’t you hear it?"

Neeve and Sixine stare at me, totally bewildered. It makes me want to laugh even more, but I have to contain myself, otherwise, they won’t hear anything. I raise a finger to point to the moon, which sits proudly in the sky, facing our bay windows.

"Listen…"

"I can’t hear anything..."

"Me neither…"

How is it possible? Is it only me who hears the moon whisper soothing words to me? My friends may be right, I’m completely stoned… But no. I know clearly what we need to do to get to safety.

"Wolves!" I say triumphantly.

"Damn!" Neeve exclaims, clearly exasperated. "You suck, Eli. As if it was time to talk to us about the moon and wolves, seriously!"

I make an effort to sit up. I grab her forearms, making her look me in the face. For her to really look at me.

"Wolves, Neeve. They are our solution."

"What do you mean by that, Eli?" Sixine says, right next to me.

"I mean we have to go hide with the wolves. Bretton Pack is closest to Wolf Creek. We’ll be safe from danger!"

I let go of Neeve’s arm and point to the moon.

"The moon is full. It’s the perfect time for a special Moon spell, don’t you think?"

"Damn, Eli... Witches among the wolves… If we are discovered, they will eat us! And if sorcerers find out, we’re dead."

"Before the jury of the coven, we’ll have nothing to fear and in addition, Levenach intervened," Sixine says.

I release Neeve. Now my mind is as clear as night. I know exactly what we have to do. And it will work, I’m sure of it. I know I’m right. I know it, I feel it, and it’s been a long time since I had such confidence in my own judgment.

"The spell I intend to cast will turn us into wolves for one lunation. No more. And it can only be done once. It’s the only solution I can come up with right now."

"What about locator spells?"

"Sixine, don’t you remember that wolves’ smells mask our witch nature?"

She slaps her forehead with an exasperated hand. Her studies at the Wiccard Academy do not seem to have left her with an imperishable memory.

"Yeah, yes. OK. But hey, I just need time to put my affairs in order, I have to plead tomorrow…"

"And I have to tell my manager that I’m taking unpaid leave..."

"No," I said. "It’s now. Tomorrow, the moon will already be waning, and my spell won’t work."

The girls look at me.

"You have to stop the meds, too," says Sixine.

"I told you and I’ll repeat it for you, if we want to hide somewhere, it’s with the Brettons, and it’s now!"

My words act on my friends like a whiplash. Their eyes finally lose their dazed glow.

"You’re sure?" asks Six.

I nod my head.

"But like sure sure?" adds Neeve.

I nod my head twice. But still, I wonder when I lost my credibility so badly that even my two best friends needed me to confirm my certainties. Deciding enough is enough, I grab the discarded bottle of wine and take a good swig of it. With the back of my hand, I wipe my mouth.

"Come on, it’s good. Let’s go."

The girls nod in agreement. It’s good, we’re moving forward. We take each other’s hands. Right in the middle of our circle, a moonbeam illuminates our intertwined fingers. I focus on it, as hard as I can, and we close our eyes.

In the beginning... Well, in the beginning, nothing happens. Nothing nothing nothing. I feel Neeve open one eye to watch me and Sixine sniffle. Women of little faith.

Uncertainty takes hold of me, and I try to push it away with all my might. But… what if I had abused my meds and other crap so much that I was no longer able to use my magic? Then I think about the woman who exploded in my car. I had never done such a thing before today, but I am capable of it. So little by little, I feel the influx of power seeping into me. Almost timidly at first, then more and more forcefully, until the sweet lethargy into which my pills and my few sips of wine had plunged me was shattered.

I scream, surprised, as always, by the strength and power of my magic. I don’t need to open my eyes to know that a sphere with opaline reflections crossed by dazzling flashes has been created around us and isolates us from the rest of the world.

Then I scream, shaken to the depths of my soul by the effort I have to produce to change us into wolves. In my mind saturated with sensations that don’t all belong to me, I isolate the image of three beasts. One with a silver coat, one with tawny hair, and the last with a black coat. I superimpose our faces, our identities, and what I know about us. And I know everything about us. The good and the bad, strengths and weaknesses.

In the loft, the light intensifies, until it becomes blinding, a furious wind rises and makes the doors slam, the papers fly away, and the old walls groan. A few windows smash. A chandelier comes down from the high ceiling and crashes to the floor. But all this I do not see. My whole being is invested with the power of the moon, and my mind with the image of a wolf.

A wolf I don’t know.

Or at least not yet.