the book, and Sarah swooped down on it, trapping the knot under a mason jar. We both peered at the UMO—unfamiliar magical object.
“Now what do we do?” I always thought of spells as living, breathing creations. It seemed unkind to keep it contained.
“I’m not sure there’s much we can do.” Sarah took my left hand and flipped it over, revealing a black-stained thumb.
“I got ink on it,” I said.
Sarah shook her head. “That’s not ink. That’s the color of death. You killed the spell.”
“What do you mean, killed it?” I snatched my hand away, holding it behind me like a child caught raiding the cookie jar.
“Don’t panic,” Sarah said. “Rebecca learned to control it. You can, too.”
“My mother?” I thought of the long look that Sarah and Vivian had exchanged last night. “You knew something like this might happen.”
“Only after I saw your left hand. It bears all the colors of the higher magics, like exorcism and auguries, just as your right hand shows the colors of the craft.” Sarah paused. “It bears the colors of the darker magics, too.”
“Good thing I’m right-handed.” It was an attempt at humor, but the tremor in my voice gave me away.
“You’re not right-handed. You’re ambidextrous. You only favor your right hand because that horrible first-grade teacher said left-handed children were demonic.” Sarah had seen to it that the woman was formally censured. After experiencing her first Halloween in Madison, Miss Somerton had resigned her position.
I wanted to say I wasn’t interested in the higher magics either, but nothing came out.
Sarah looked at me sadly. “You can’t lie to another witch, Diana. Especially not a whopper like that.”
“No dark magic.” Emily had died trying to summon and bind a spirit—probably my mother. Peter Knox was interested in the darker aspects of the craft, too. And dark magic was bound up in Ashmole 782 as well—not to mention more than one thumb’s worth of death.
“Dark doesn’t have to mean evil,” Sarah said. “Is the new moon evil?”
I shook my head. “The dark of the moon is a time for new beginnings.”
“Owls? Spiders? Bats? Dragons?” Sarah was using her teacher voice.
“No,” I admitted.
“No. They are not. Humans made up those stories about the moon and nocturnal creatures because they represent the unknown. It’s no coincidence that they also symbolize wisdom. There is nothing more powerful than knowledge. That’s why we’re so careful when we teach someone dark magic.” Sarah took my hand. “Black is the color of the goddess as crone, plus the color of concealment, bad omens, and death.”
“And these?” I wiggled the three other fingers.
“Here we have the color of the goddess as maiden and huntress,” she said, folding in my silver middle finger. Now I knew why the goddess’s voice sounded as it did. “And here is the color of worldly power.” She folded in my golden ring finger. “As for your pinkie, white is the color of divination and prophecy. It’s also used to break curses and banish unwanted spirits.”
“Except for the death, that doesn’t sound so terrible.”
“Like I said, dark doesn’t necessarily mean evil,” Sarah said. “Think about worldly power. In beneficent hands it’s a force for good. But if someone abuses it for personal gain or to harm others, it can be terribly destructive. The darkness depends on the witch.”
“You said Emily wasn’t very good at the higher magics. What about Mom?”
“Rebecca excelled at them. She went straight from bell, book, and candle to calling down the moon,” Sarah said wistfully.
Some of what I’d witnessed my mother do when I was a child made sense now, like the night she’d conjured wraiths out of a bowl of water. So, too, did Peter Knox’s preoccupation with her. “Rebecca seemed to lose interest in higher magics once she met your father, though. The only subjects that appealed to her then were anthropology and Stephen. And you, of course,” Sarah said. “I don’t think she worked much higher magic after you were born.”
Not where anybody but Dad or I could see, I thought. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said aloud.
“You didn’t want anything to do with magic, remember?” Sarah’s hazel gaze held mine. “I saved some of Rebecca’s things, just in case you ever showed any ability. The house took the rest.”
Sarah murmured a spell—an opening spell, based on the threads that suddenly illuminated the room with shades of red, yellow, and green. A cabinet and drawers appeared to the left of the old fireplace, built into the ancient masonry. The room