I stared at the words that didn’t bring me any closer to understanding. “But what happens, exactly, during the Claiming? Does this Claiming Moon send down some kind of Caster beam, or something?”
She scanned the page. “It doesn’t exactly say. All I know is it takes place under the moon, at midnight —‘IN THE MIDST OF THE GREAT DARKNESSE & UNDERE THE GREAT LIGHT, FROM WHICHE WE CAME.’
But it can happen anywhere. It’s nothing you can really see, it just happens. No Caster beam involved.”
“But what happens exactly?” I wanted to know everything, and it still felt like she was holding something back. She kept her eyes on the page.
“For most Casters, it’s a conscious thing, just like it says here. The Person of Power, the Caster, Casts the Eternal Choice. They choose if they want to Claim themselves Light or Dark. That’s what the free will and agency is all about, like Mortals choose to be good or bad, except Casters make the Choice for all time. They choose the life they want to lead, the way they will interact with the magical universe, and one another. It’s a covenant they make with the natural world, the Order of Things. I know that sounds crazy.”
“When you’re sixteen? How are you supposed to know who you are and who you want to be for the rest of your life by then?”
“Yeah, well, those are the lucky ones. I don’t even get a choice.”
I almost couldn’t bring myself to ask the next question. “So what will happen to you?”
“Reece says you just change. It happens in a second, like a heartbeat. You feel this energy, this power moving through your body, almost like you’re coming to life for the first time.” She looked wistful. “At least, that’s what Reece said.”
“That’s doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Reece described it as an overwhelming warmth. She said it felt like the sun was shining on her, and no one else. And at that moment, she said you just know which path has been chosen for you.” It sounded too easy, too painless, like she was leaving something out. Like the part about what it felt like when a Caster went Dark. But I didn’t want to put it out there, even if I knew we were both thinking about it.
Just like that?
Just like that. It doesn’t hurt or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.
That was one of the things I was worried about, but it wasn’t the only thing.
I’m not worried.
Me neither.
And this time, we made a point of staying away from what we were thinking, even to ourselves.
The sun crept across the braided rug on Lena’s floor, the orange light turning all the colors of the braid into a hundred different kinds of gold. For a moment, Lena’s face, her eyes, her hair, everything the light touched turned to gold. She was beautiful, a hundred years and a hundred miles away, and just like the faces in the Book, somehow not quite human.
“Sundown. Uncle Macon will be up, any minute. We have to put the Book away.” She closed it, zipping it back into my bag. “You take it. If my uncle finds it, he’ll just try to keep it from me, like everything else.”
“I just can’t figure out what he and Amma are hiding. If all this stuff is going to happen and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it, why not tell us everything?”
She wouldn’t look at me. I pulled her into my arms, and she lay her head against my chest. She didn’t say a word, but between two layers of sweatshirts and sweaters, I could still feel her heart beating against mine.
She looked over at the viola until the music died out, dimming like the sun in the window.
The next day at school, it was clear we were the only people thinking about anything that had to do with any kind of book. No hands were raised in any classes, unless someone needed the hall pass for the bathroom. Not a single pen touched a scrap of paper, unless it was to write a note about who had been asked, who didn’t have a prayer of being asked, and who had already been shot down.
December only meant one thing at Jackson High: the winter formal. We were in the cafeteria when Lena brought the subject up for the first time.
“Did you ask anyone to go to the dance?” Lena wasn’t familiar with Link’s not-so-secret strategy of going to all the dances stag so he could flirt with Coach Cross, the girls’ track coach. Link had been in love with Maggie Cross, who had graduated five years ago and came back after college to become Coach Cross, since we were in fifth grade.
“No, I like to fly solo.” Link grinned, his mouth full of fries.
“Coach Cross chaperones, so Link always goes by himself so he can loiter around her all night,” I explained.
“Don’t wanna disappoint the ladies. They’ll be fightin’ over me once somebody spikes the punch.”
“I’ve never been to a school dance before.” Lena looked down at her tray and picked at her sandwich.
She looked almost disappointed.