touching her.
The Priestess breathed out heavily. If she was to induce the time-telling, she would have to make Margo desperate. The young witch was too fast to be flustered by rapid attacks, so The Priestess changed tactics. She looked up and began to chant unintelligibly; her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and the veiny whites of her eyes were exposed. As she chanted, black smoke, slow as molasses, dripped from her fingers and slithered towards Margo. The smoke spread across the room; the closer it got to her, it bloomed like the end of a rose. Margo looked around, the tar was still beneath her; she could not lie on the floor. The ceiling was so far up, she couldn’t possibly levitate towards the top fast enough, and even if she could, the smoke seemed to be spreading every which way. She was out of time, and the black vapor began to envelop her. She grabbed her throat, her eyes opening wide. She was being poisoned. Before The Priestess had time to help her, Margo felt as she had that morning, her body underwater, her breathing slowed, her eyes shut. When she opened her eyes, she was standing as she had right before The Priestess began her tests, on the other side of the room, feet flat on the floor. The Priestess was thunderstruck. Neither witch said a word, but in that moment Margo knew without question that she was a time-teller.
Chapter 15
New York, NY
October 5 , 1984
Emerald was home. She had sneaked into the backyard, closed the wooden fence behind her quietly, and lay on the soft grass. It was already dark out; she had spent the entire day out avoiding Nora, and she knew her aunt was probably seeing red by now. She thought of the conversation she’d had with Seneka. She felt horribly about her friend leaving, but even worse about how selfish she herself was being. She thought of Charlie and studying music. It was probably an impossible dream, but why shouldn’t she try? She would be no better or worse off than she was now if she failed, and if she got in, it would be major. She thought of Henri, of his kind words, of his encouragement. It was what she needed to hear today, on her sixteenth birthday, when everything else had gone to hell. She thought about her own father, how he never got to tell her she’d be okay, or that he believed in her, because he ran away at the first sight of trouble. He’d given up on her, and she didn’t even know why. And then she thought of her mother. She was sure that if Penelope were still alive, she wouldn’t be having such a tough time with life, with trying to be good when all her insides screamed at her to do the wrong things over and over again. She bit her lip to keep from crying. Twice in one day, she thought. It was probably a record.
She looked up at the boarding house. It seemed to almost fade into the navy blue night sky. She closed her eyes and whispered the words she’d heard Nora repeat so many times as she told the story about that night in Riverdale.
“ Scintillatione stellarum constare ,” she whispered with a flourish of her hand.
In an instant, thousands of twinkling lights engulfed her house, making it look like a giant disco ball. Nora, who was inside the boarding house, saw the stunning light show through a window and rushed outside, putting the lights out with a wave of her hand and covering them both in darkness.
“ WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” she howled in her thick New York accent. “DO YOU KNOW HOW FREAKING WORRIED I’VE BEEN ABOUT YOU?”
“I’m sorry,” squeaked Emerald. Nora was screaming so loud she was sure Mayor Koch could hear her all the way on 88 th Street.
“Emerald,” said Nora, trying to tone her voice down, “it’s your birthday. I made you your favorite red velvet cake, and you don’t even give me a PHONE CALL?”
She was doing so well and lost her composure again towards the end there, thought Emerald to herself.
“Nora, I know I messed up real bad. I was just worried about what you’d say about me getting
The Priestess breathed out heavily. If she was to induce the time-telling, she would have to make Margo desperate. The young witch was too fast to be flustered by rapid attacks, so The Priestess changed tactics. She looked up and began to chant unintelligibly; her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and the veiny whites of her eyes were exposed. As she chanted, black smoke, slow as molasses, dripped from her fingers and slithered towards Margo. The smoke spread across the room; the closer it got to her, it bloomed like the end of a rose. Margo looked around, the tar was still beneath her; she could not lie on the floor. The ceiling was so far up, she couldn’t possibly levitate towards the top fast enough, and even if she could, the smoke seemed to be spreading every which way. She was out of time, and the black vapor began to envelop her. She grabbed her throat, her eyes opening wide. She was being poisoned. Before The Priestess had time to help her, Margo felt as she had that morning, her body underwater, her breathing slowed, her eyes shut. When she opened her eyes, she was standing as she had right before The Priestess began her tests, on the other side of the room, feet flat on the floor. The Priestess was thunderstruck. Neither witch said a word, but in that moment Margo knew without question that she was a time-teller.
Chapter 15
New York, NY
October 5 , 1984
Emerald was home. She had sneaked into the backyard, closed the wooden fence behind her quietly, and lay on the soft grass. It was already dark out; she had spent the entire day out avoiding Nora, and she knew her aunt was probably seeing red by now. She thought of the conversation she’d had with Seneka. She felt horribly about her friend leaving, but even worse about how selfish she herself was being. She thought of Charlie and studying music. It was probably an impossible dream, but why shouldn’t she try? She would be no better or worse off than she was now if she failed, and if she got in, it would be major. She thought of Henri, of his kind words, of his encouragement. It was what she needed to hear today, on her sixteenth birthday, when everything else had gone to hell. She thought about her own father, how he never got to tell her she’d be okay, or that he believed in her, because he ran away at the first sight of trouble. He’d given up on her, and she didn’t even know why. And then she thought of her mother. She was sure that if Penelope were still alive, she wouldn’t be having such a tough time with life, with trying to be good when all her insides screamed at her to do the wrong things over and over again. She bit her lip to keep from crying. Twice in one day, she thought. It was probably a record.
She looked up at the boarding house. It seemed to almost fade into the navy blue night sky. She closed her eyes and whispered the words she’d heard Nora repeat so many times as she told the story about that night in Riverdale.
“ Scintillatione stellarum constare ,” she whispered with a flourish of her hand.
In an instant, thousands of twinkling lights engulfed her house, making it look like a giant disco ball. Nora, who was inside the boarding house, saw the stunning light show through a window and rushed outside, putting the lights out with a wave of her hand and covering them both in darkness.
“ WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” she howled in her thick New York accent. “DO YOU KNOW HOW FREAKING WORRIED I’VE BEEN ABOUT YOU?”
“I’m sorry,” squeaked Emerald. Nora was screaming so loud she was sure Mayor Koch could hear her all the way on 88 th Street.
“Emerald,” said Nora, trying to tone her voice down, “it’s your birthday. I made you your favorite red velvet cake, and you don’t even give me a PHONE CALL?”
She was doing so well and lost her composure again towards the end there, thought Emerald to herself.
“Nora, I know I messed up real bad. I was just worried about what you’d say about me getting
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