Daughters of the Moon, Books 1 - 3 by Lynne Ewing
Morgan rubbed her temples.
“You okay?” Collin seemed concerned.
“Just a bad headache.” Morgan eyed Serena suspiciously. “I never get headaches.”
Serena tried to hide the wicked grin that was stretching across her face. She picked up a cookie and bit off a piece.
Morgan continued to rub her temples. “Let’s drive down to the beach.” She looked at Collin. “Maybe I need fresh air.”
“Sure.” He stepped forward.
“Shouldn’t you practice your speech?” Serena offered, stifling a laugh.
“What speech?” Morgan seemed baffled.
“I heard you were supposed to give one at the pep rally on Thursday,” Serena said innocently.
Morgan looked reflective for a moment as if she were trying to pull some thought into focus. “I can’t think right now.”
They left and Jimena snuck back into the room. “Okay, what did you do?”
“How do you know I did anything?”
“You were all squinting and zombied out. I knew you were in her mind.”
“Do you think Morgan noticed?”
“She’s too self-involved. So what did you do?”
Serena suddenly remembered Maggie. “I’m in big trouble.” Maggie was going to be so disappointed in her. “I zapped her mind. Not big, but enough. Let’s just say that the pep rally will be very different this time.”
Jimena smiled. “I’m down with that. They’re always so boring. I can’t wait.”
“I shouldn’t have done it. It’s just that she makes me so mad.”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s a rata.”
“Rata? A rat?” Serena said.
“A girl who hangs around waiting for guys. She’s got no life.” Jimena looked at her watch. “I got to get over to Children’s Hospital so I can get in enough hours this month. Sorry I can’t stay longer.”
“See you tomorrow.” Serena waved.
After Jimena left, Serena sat in a chair and set her cello on the end pin between her knees. She loved the way she had to hug the cello when she played. She dreamed of meeting her idols some day in a master class or onstage, someone like Yo-Yo Ma or Han-Na Chang. She picked up her bow and began to play. The music flowed around her, sad and filled with longing.
She had only been playing for a little while when she looked up and gasped.
Zahi stood in the kitchen watching her.
“I am sorry,” he apologized. “But your back door was open and I heard the cello music.” He smiled. “It drew me to you as if it were calling me. It is quite lovely.”
“Thank you.” She wondered why she wasn’t more upset that he had come into the house without knocking or announcing himself.
He pulled a chair up next to her. “I love the cello,” he said shyly.
“Me, too,” she agreed. “It communicates the way no other instrument can. It’s so sorrowful and theatrical. It seems almost human the way it expresses so many emotions.” She blushed and felt suddenly stupid for sharing her passion with him.
“It is you,” he whispered, his voice solemn. She felt as if he were talking to her from a very deep place inside himself that he seldom shared. “The cello is only wood and a bow. You are the real instrument. It is your deep emotion that I hear when you play.” He touched her cheek lightly.
“Thanks,” she said, again feeling thrilled that they had shared so much.
“Play again,” he asked. “Please.”
She leaned over her cello. She started to play with a long strong note, making sure the sound was even through the whole bow.
Then her fingers worked a fast run and she stepped into another world. The kitchen and Zahi were no longer there, only her music swirling around her until she was lost in it.
CHAPTER FIVE
SERENA SAT ON A FOLDING CHAIR, put a Tootsie Pop in her mouth, and waited nervously. The gym had a stale smell left over from years of basketball games. Sneakers caught and squeaked on the polished wood floors as kids filed into the room and talked noisily, waiting for the pep rally to begin.
Finally, the lights dimmed and Morgan walked across the stage, smiling at the football players seated on chairs behind her. She wore iridescent paisley-print pants, a square-neck top, and lots of attitude. Serena hated to admit it, but she looked good.
Morgan stepped behind the podium and bent the microphone to her. Then she paused and nervously twisted a strand of hair. She cleared her throat. Finally she began her speech. “The day of my Christmas party in sixth grade was the worst day of my life.”
Kids in the audience looked at each other and shrugged. The football team seated behind her shifted uneasily.
“That was the day I stuffed my bra with Kleenex,” she said too loudly, and made the microphone shriek.
“Woo-hoo!” someone shouted.
Some kids began to laugh. Coach Dambrowsky hurried across the stage, his heavy footsteps making loud thuds on the wood floor.
“The Kleenex fell out when I started dancing,” Morgan continued seriously. “One piece came out, and then another, until finally I ran to the bathroom and emptied my bra.”
Morgan looked up at the stage lights as if something had just occurred to her. “So don’t stuff your bras with Kleenex. You may think guys don’t like flat-chested girls, but I found out that day they do.”
Guys hooted and applauded.
She started to speak again, but her words trailed off as Coach Dambrowsky took the microphone. “I think that was an interesting speech, Morgan, but let’s introduce the football team now.” He handed the mike back to Morgan.
She smiled nicely and glanced back at the football players, who were stretched out in their folding chairs. They grinned devilishly back at her. Some waved.
She paused for a long moment as if she were trying to remember something else. “I should have used socks,” she continued. “But I was afraid they might start smelling.” She cupped her hands under her breasts. “I’m glad I no longer have to worry about that or have to put up with being wedged in those padded bras.”
Guys howled and whistled. The football team applauded.
Coach Dambrowsky grabbed the mike again. “Thank you, Morgan,” he said nervously. “Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll introduce the players.”
Morgan took a seat, and even from the back of the auditorium Serena could see her blush bright red.
The kids in the gym were still laughing when Jimena, Serena, Catty, and Vanessa walked out into the sunlight.
“Why was Morgan talking about stuffing her bra?” Catty wondered.
“What did that have to do with getting us excited about a football game?” Vanessa added.
Jimena couldn’t stop laughing. “Yeah, it made sense.” Jimena glanced at Serena.
“You promised you wouldn’t say anything!” Serena scolded.
“Cool.” Catty looked at her with admiration. “What did you do to her?”
“You didn’t!” Vanessa’s eyes were wide. “I always knew she had stuffed her bra. I remember the party.”
“Take us back in time so we can listen to her speech again,” Jimena begged Catty.
“Let’s go back to the party!” Catty’s eyes dilated as if a potent energy were building in her brain. The minute hand on her watch started turning backward.
Serena caught her wrist. “It’s not funny. I feel really bad about it.”
“You should feel bad.” Vanessa was being nice as usual. “The whole school heard her confess. She’s going to be so embarrassed.”
“Why should Serena feel bad?” Catty asked. “Morgan deserved it after everything she’s done.”
Michael Saratoga appeared behind Vanessa and put his arm around her. His wild black hair hung in thick curls on his shoulders, and a barbed-wire tattoo circled his upper arm. He had strong angular features, a great smile, and soft dark eyes. “Hey, you guys. Do you know why Morgan’s speech was so crazy?”
“No!” they all shouted in unison
Michael smiled. “Just asking.”
Morgan stomped over to them, her neck and chest still pink with embarrassment “You witch!” she screamed at Serena.
Everyone turned and looked at her. “I know you did something to me, Serena.”
“What’s your trip?” Jimena stepped up to Morgan and started to push her away.
Serena grabbed Jimena’s hands and held them.
Morgan glared at Serena. “Like I would go up onstage and tell the whole school about the most embarrassing day of my life. You did something!”
“What could I have done?” Serena tried to seem as sincere as she could.
“You can tell fortunes,” Morgan stated. “So I bet you do more. You probably put a spell on me because your brother likes me! How else could I have forgotten my speech? I mean I told everyone about the Kleenex—” Morgan stopped. She glanced at Michael and her face turned a deeper red.
Everyone laughed except Serena.
“No one can put a spell on you, Morgan,” Michael told her. “You were just doing what you always do.”
“What?”
“Being totally self-absorbed.”
“But I never forget my speech.” Morgan put her hands on her hips.
“If Serena did something to you, you should be thanking her,” Michael added. “It was the best pep rally we’ve had all year.”
Morgan tilted her head. “You’re right.” She smiled at Serena but her eyes looked vengeful. “What am I thinking? Just nerves from giving a brilliant speech.” She twirled and stormed away.
“Wow.” Michael looked concerned. “I’ve never seen her so upset. You think she’s having a breakdown? Maybe we should tell the school counselor.”
“She’s all right,” Vanessa assured him, and glanced at Serena before she and Michael walked away.
“Don’t let Morgan get to you,” Catty soothed. “It was really funny what you did.”
Serena caught her thoughts and knew Catty was going to repeat the pep assembly over and over.
“I’ll meet you later at Chado’s.” Catty walked off.
When she left, Serena looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for my cello lesson.”
“Yeah, see ya,” Jimena called.
Serena picked up her cello from the music room, then walked over to Bella’s house for her lesson.
She had trouble with the fast runs and could hear Bella click her tongue impatiently every time she stumbled. But it was the shaky long note that made Bella touch the bow gently, signaling her to stop.
“Serena.” Bella spoke in her thick Russian accent. “Do you know you are playing a cello? Did you think maybe it changed into a drum?”
“Sorry.” Serena felt embarrassed.
Bella sighed heavily and sat beside her, her arms wrapping around Serena to show her how to position her fingers to play the multiple stops with which she was having difficulty.
When her hands fluttered away, Serena could still smell Bella’s lilac powder. Serena played the measure again.
“Perfect.” Bella applauded. She sat on the couch facing Serena. “Having a student like you, Serena, is one of the great joys in my life.”
“But,” Serena added for her.
“But an artist must surrender to her work, day after day, even on days when she doesn’t want to practice, days when her mind is on boys and dances and dresses. Talent alone . . .” Her shoulders slumped as she sighed heavily. “A person with less talent will have more success if they practice, but they’ll never be able to touch the soul the way you can, Serena. You can make people feel and long and appreciate—but it takes sacrifice.”
She walked over to the window as if she were suddenly alone in the room, and looked out. Then she turned and looked back at Serena. “Don’t fail yourself, Serena.”
Twenty minutes later, Serena walked into Chado’s. She loved looking at the brown canisters of tea that lined the walls in the front room. She peeked into the lavender room where tea was served. The room was crowded already. Then she saw Maggie sitting in a corner near the window. She really looked like a retired schoolteacher. Her long gray hair was curled in a bun, her delicate fingers ran up and down the handle on her teacup, and she was smiling at nothing in particular. She lifted her cup and took a sip.
Serena walked over to her and set down her cello beside the table.
Maggie stood and gave her a warm embrace.
Serena started to smile and stopped. Maggie was looking at her strangely.
“What is it, my dear?” Maggie touched Serena’s cheek. “You seem so distraught.”
“I . . .” She looked down. Daughters of the Moon were never supposed to use their powers to hurt others, and Serena had definitely done so in zapping Morgan, even if Morgan did deserve it. How was she going to tell Maggie? She didn’t want to disappoint her.
Before she had a chance to explain what she had done, Jimena, Vanessa, and Catty walked in the front door.
“Hi.” Catty sat down. “Did you tell Maggie about your dream yet?”
“No,” Serena answered.
“What dream?” Maggie lifted her teacup and took a long sip.
“It was a really weird dream.” Serena spoke slowly. “It was about a fire.”
“Yeah,” Jimena added. “Only it was cold.”
“The flames were cold, but it still burned the wood,” Serena explained.
“But not the girl who walked into the flames,” Vanessa continued for her. “What was her name? Lecta?”
Maggie looked up sharply.
“What’s wrong?” Serena leaned forward. Maggie was too powerful to let anyone into her mind, but her emotions shimmered in the air like an aura.
“Serena, dear,” Maggie began, her concern visible on her face.
Serena clasped her shaking hands under the table. “Tell me.”
“I’m afraid you’ve witnessed an arcane ceremony of the Atrox.” Maggie looked at them solemnly. “I wanted to discuss the new Followers, but this seems far worse. Frigidus ignis.”
“What’s that?” Jimena asked.
“The Atrox gives immortality to favored followers who prove themselves, and”—she paused—“to Daughters of the Moon who turn to the Atrox and become Followers. The chosen ones step into the cold fire and the flames burn away their mortality and bestow eternal life.”
Serena was thunderstruck. “It wasn’t a dream?”
“But I went back,” Catty protested. “I didn’t see a fire.”
“You couldn’t see the fire.” Maggie sighed. “The Atrox wouldn’t allow you to see it unless . . .” She looked at Serena and fell suddenly silent.
“What?” Serena demanded.
“Lecta wasn’t the girl’s name,” Maggie told them. “Lecta means ‘chosen one.’ Lecta, or Lectus if it is a boy. It is a very high honor to be chosen from the legion of Followers to receive one of the highest gifts the Atrox can bestow . . . immortality.”
“You’d think people would have heard about the fire and all tried to jump in,” Jimena mused. “I mean, damn, to live forever.”
“It’s not quite that easy.” Maggie looked grim. “The Atrox must invite you into the fire. If not . . .”
“What?” Catty sipped her tea nervously.
“If you attempt to enter the fire, even brush a hand through it when you’re not the chosen one—you suffer a horrible death.”
Serena began to shudder. She had brushed her hand through the flames. What did that mean?
“But why would the Atrox allow me to witness such a ceremony, and not Catty?” Serena tried to keep her voice calm.
Maggie paused and shook her head. “It’s such an ancient ceremony. I didn’t realize it was still practiced.”
Serena couldn’t ease the disquieting feeling that was growing inside her.
Maggie placed a warm hand on Serena’s. “You must be careful. The Atrox and its Followers can be very seductive. They could trick you into becoming one of them without using
“Am I a chosen one?” Serena could barely get the words out.
“Perhaps,” Maggie answered her. “Perhaps the Atrox has chosen you.”
A shiver spread through Serena.
Jimena looked at her. “We’ve got your back. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
Serena shook her head sadly. “Remember the tarot cards? The devil, the moon, and the high priestess? The cards predicted my fall.”
“No,” Maggie declared firmly. “You must never be fatalistic.”
“But you made it sound like the Atrox doesn’t let you see the fire unless—”
“No,” Maggie interrupted. “I said the Atrox is very seductive. One of the powers of evil is to make you think your destiny is inescapable, but things are never hopeless.”
The waitress brought over tiered silver plates with little sandwiches and pastries.
Maggie poured tea for each of them and began to speak quietly. “You must be very strong now. This new group of Followers is somehow connected to the cold fire, even though it was Stanton and the Hollywood group who showed the fire to Serena. Remember that there is much competition among Followers for a place of power in the Atrox hierarchy.”
She glanced around her to make sure no one was listening before she continued. “Because the Daughters of the Moon live in Los Angeles it is only natural that ambitious Followers should find their way here, hoping to win the biggest prize— the seduction of a Daughter of the Moon or the theft of her powers. The Atrox would award such a deed by allowing the Follower into its inner circle.”
She took a bite of scone and resumed speaking in hushed tones. “The Atrox is ruthless. It may very well have tricked Stanton into showing the fire to Serena in order to make her more vulnerable to the one who will try to convince her to step into the flames.”
Serena stared at her tea. Did Maggie think she would ever betray the Daughters of the Moon?
Jimena took her hand and held it tightly.
Maggie seemed to read her thoughts. “People once thought that Hekate had betrayed her role and become an evil force, but that wasn’t true.”