“OH MY GODS AND GODDESSES!” she yells, pointing at me. “What did you do?”
Luna visibly tenses and cocks her head to the side. My gaze slides from my sister to the Celestial at our dinner table and I swallow hard.
“I accidentally summoned the Moon,” I admit. “But before you yell, I don’t think she likes it. I’m going to be totally honest, sis, maybe you should chill out a bit before you—”
“She’s not a goddamn chihuahua! She isn’t going to pee herself because one of us raises our voice. Do you know what she is? Do you know what she can do?”
“Do you?” Luna asks on a deadly whisper.
“Laney—”
“Sorry.” Laney’s face pales all except two bright red spots on both her cheeks. She’s always turned red when she was mad. This is beyond the norm though. “How do we send her home?” She focuses her attention on Luna, taking a long, deep breath. “I’m so sorry this has happened, we are going to fix it immediately. We’ll get you home. Please don’t, uh, curse us or anything.”
Luna snorts and I roll my eyes.
“It’s not funny, Bug.”
“Well, it’s a little funny. You have polka dots on your cheeks because you’re pissed off but you’re terrified so you’re also as pale as a damned ghost. Stop yelling at me and tell me how to fix it. I thought I could do it on my own and was wrong.” I wrap my arms around my stomach, thankful for the baggy hoodie I’m still wearing.
“I don’t curse people, either,” Luna points out. “I truly believe your sister didn’t mean to bring me here and I don’t think she means me any harm. You, however, have both the power and the aptitude to put me in danger. Should I be concerned?”
“What?” Laney and I both ask at the same time. Realization flashes in Laney’s eyes and she shakes her head back and forth quickly.
“I would never. I’d like to say witches have evolved past that, but I can’t speak for everyone else in the witching world, only for myself. I’d never harm a Celestial.” Laney looks almost embarrassed, her cheeks flushing brighter as she rushes through the overly formal statement.
“What do you mean? What does she mean?” I look from Luna to Laney, my brows furrowing in confusion.
“Don’t you remember why the Celestials cut us off?” Laney asks with a huff. I take a second, trying to recount the hours and hours of magical history we’d been forced to endure as children and teenagers.
“Not particularly,” I admit.
Laney leans across the table, bracing herself on her forearms. “During the Golden Age, there was a group of powerful witches. Our kind were still super connected to the Celestials, entire covens were bound to them. These particular witches didn’t think that was enough power, though. They wanted more. Ringing any bells?”
I nod as she speaks. It does sound familiar.
“They thought they could access the Celestials’ immortality if they sacrificed them. So they lured a Celestial into a circle and sacrificed him. At least,” Laney pauses, her eyes flicking to Luna. “That’s what we were taught in school.”
Pouring myself into a seat, I lean back against the hardback of the chair and shake my head. I do remember the story, now that Laney mentioned it. I never put much stock into the fairytales we grew up on, though. It all sounded too convenient, but to be fair, I didn’t put much stock in mythology or lore in general until Luna showed up in my living room.
I’m a very tolerant person and think people can believe whatever they choose to. If you think some guy is sitting on a cloud, judging every choice you make, go for it. If you think there are literal Gods and Goddesses flying around the world, intervening in people’s lives, go right ahead. The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster has always been my personal favorite.
Laney knows this; she’s asked me on more than one occasion how I can believe in magic but not divinity and I’ve always had the same answer: Magic is something that can be scientifically measured. The humans did studies on it in the eighties. People with fire affinities, for instance, are able to cause atoms to vibrate at a higher frequency until they create fire. It’s magic, but it’s also science. I mean, I believe in a higher power, vaguely. But I’m nowhere near as devoted or dedicated to that belief as most of my people.
Now, though? Everything seems to be fair game. I mean, the Moon is sitting at my dinner table.
“They sacrificed Orion for his power,” Luna finally whispers. Her face is pained. I wonder if she was close to this Orion. “I felt it, just like every Celestial did. The things they did to him were a perversion of magic and nature. And yes, that’s why Celestials turned away from this realm.” Luna clears her throat, pushing the bowl of salad away from her. Apparently, the memory ruined her appetite.
“We never fully abandoned you. Each of us still receive your prayers and lend our magic to your spells. Whenever you draw on a Celestial body for your spellwork, a Celestial allows it. But we had to keep ourselves safe.” Luna’s eyes slide shut, a sad smile playing at her lips. “Death isn’t natural for our kind. It was a severe loss.”
My heart breaks for her. I can’t imagine how loss must affect a being that’s immortal. Goddess, that’s cruel.
“I’m so sorry,” I finally murmur.
Laney nods as I slide my hand across the short span of smooth tabletop to Luna’s hand. Laying my palm across her fingers, I squeeze them. “We will get you home safely, I swear.”
“I swear it, too,” Laney adds on a whisper.
“Thank you, girls,” Luna answers with a sad smile.
“I can try to do it now, if you’d like?” Laney pushes away from the table and quickly jogs across the living room to the altar. Bending to pick up the piece of paper with the spell attached, she begins walking toward us again. “Do you know what went wrong with the spell, Bug?”
With a grimace, I pull my hand away from Luna’s and hide my face in my hands. “I used the wrong herbs.”
A strangled sound comes from Laney and I throw my hands up in surrender. Luna shakes her head, her waves tumbling down around her face as she tries to hide her smile. Luckily, I saw it before she could dip her chin. She thinks this is funny . . .
“Make some coffee, I think this might take a while,” Laney groans, shaking her head.
I shrug, pushing away from the table and head toward the coffee pot. The fact that Laney is asking for coffee instead of tea is telling; it’s going to be hard as fuck to fix.
But the good news, I remind myself as I pull down the bag of coffee grounds, is the Moon doesn’t hate me and isn’t going to curse my family into oblivion. That’s always a plus.
“Luna, do you drink coffee?” I ask over my shoulder.
“I’ve never had anything by that name. I’ve had tea.”
“Try some coffee,” Laney insists. “It’s one of the best things to come out of this world, I promise you.” I actually couldn’t agree more. Laney doesn’t drink more than a cup a day because if she gets jittery, her fire magic can be dangerous. She lost control a few times as a child. The rest of the times, she was just being a dick.