Old Magic(35)
‘I’m afraid to ask why.’
I smile. ‘To merge with the dark and not frighten the animals, so the forest will remain calm and in harmony with the moon. Oh, and the four essential elements. We’re going to need them.’
One eye narrows more so than the other, his head tilts in a disbelieving, are-you-all-there kind of look. ‘What about the other way?’
‘What?’
‘You said Jillian found two ways to end the curse. One is death to the sorcerer. What’s the other? Maybe we could try that.’
I bite my lower lip. It’s just a childish nervous gesture. I rarely do it any more. How do I explain the other way? Jarrod would run a thousand kilometres if I told him, laughing all the way. ‘Um, well,’ I begin tentatively, searching for the right words. Ultimately I decide against it altogether. There is just no way we could do it anyway. ‘It’s a stupid idea. It would never work.’
His shoulders lift, his mouth turns down at the edges, apparently accepting my explanation.
‘It has to be the spell, Jarrod.’
‘I don’t know, Kate. It’s so … ridiculous.’
‘No, it’s just a matter of courage.’ Testing him could become an interesting pastime. It gets to him where nothing else does. ‘Well, do you have the courage?’
‘I know what you’re doing, Kate.’ His tone is sour, but I can see his curiosity is starting to kick in.
‘Are you in?’ I goad further.
‘Just tell me where to get the goat’s blood, without having to kill a goat.’
Jarrod
I can’t believe I agreed to do this. Goat’s blood, for goodness’ sake. What on earth am I thinking? I’ve lost it. I’ve completely lost it.
Well, seeing how I’ve already lost it, I guess there’s nothing left to risk. Except perhaps the remnants of my sanity.
The house is sleeping, it’s almost time to leave. But it’s so quiet, I have to climb out my window if I’m going to sneak out without waking Mum or Dad. With a bit of luck they might be sleeping deeply. They haven’t had much of that in the last couple of days.
I tumble bum first out of the window, scrape my arm against a cracked timber frame, landing with a loud thump and whack in a pile of dry, crackly leaf residue. I glance up, glad it’s a single-storey house, and rub my sore elbow. No lights go on so at least I didn’t wake anyone, or break another bone.
Outside it’s already freezing, and it’s only around 11:20 pm. Just enough time I reckon to cycle to Kate’s and tread through the scrub to the place by the creek where I have to meet her. She told me not to use a torch unless I really have to. The full moon tonight is supposed to be enough. And my senses. Rely on them, she said.
She has to be kidding. My senses are on red alert, nothing is working except fear and adrenalin. And that predicted full moon has decided it’s not coming out. Who could blame it? It’s not stupid.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I feel for the jar of goat’s blood, tucked neatly into my shirt pocket beneath my black ribbed jumper. I groan, but only in relief, the jar is still intact. It should be after all I went through this afternoon to find some. The town vet gave me a list of farms with goats, but assured me milk would be easier to obtain than blood; then looked at me as if I wasn’t all there. He wasn’t far wrong. Striking out on the farms, whose owners had at least enjoyed a good belly laugh at my expense, I ended up at the abattoirs where I had a nightmare of a time convincing the attendant it was goat’s blood I needed for my biology assignment, and not the usual animal organs such as pig’s brains, or livers or eyes. He assured me I was making a mistake, had somehow got my instructions muddled; but seeing how my little brother came so close to death recently, made an exception in the case of my sanity.
I cycle harder at the memory: at least this is something I can do without falling over. And I need to get some speed up to tackle the hills leading up to Kate’s. The streets are quiet. In fact, there isn’t a car or anything in sight. Which is good for me. No one will see me in this ludicrous get-up – all black from my toes to my head, just as Kate ordered, except for the small red insignia of the NBA Chicago Bulls on the front of Casey’s beanie. But the air is so icy, this close to winter, I decide to risk the slight oversight on Kate’s instructions.
By the time I make it to Jillian’s shop I’m exhausted, having walked my bike up the last steep incline. I leave it out the front and head for the rainforest track that Kate once showed me. Of course in the dark I can’t find it easily and have to use my torch. It’s hardly a track at all and after a few minutes my heart starts thundering. If the noise my feet are making crunching the millions of dry fallen leaves doesn’t alarm the forest animals, surely the sound of my thumping heart will throw out the harmony between the forest and the moon. Or whatever it was Kate said.