SOFI
In the week that followed, the mood inside Mirtel’s wagon shifted from a sort of heavy anticipatory tension to what one could almost call optimism. It was the most I’d felt like myself since before my Spring Day Ceremony.
No one seemed more excited than Mirtel, however. With the magical regrowth of the dying seedling—and none of us seemed to want to spend too much time considering the implications of that—she seemed almost invigorated, flipping excitedly through the book in search of other spells for us to try.
And to all of our collective amazement, they worked. They all worked.
We coaxed seedlings to grow; we levitated small household objects; we caused a flurry of snowflakes to fall from the late spring sky over the brightly painted roof of Mirtel’s wagon.
It was amazing, unlike anything I’d ever even imagined might be possible, and I threw myself into the spells with a feeling of mingled awe and relief, like we finally might have found the answer to all of our problems, even if we didn’t quite know what that answer might be, or even exactly what problem we were trying to solve.
Surprisingly, only Mirtel seemed as completely smitten with our newfound power as I was. Aggie was her usual skeptical self, and I could hear her arguing with Mirtel through the wagon’s thin walls as I stepped outside to feed the chickens. I wondered idly if she even had the capacity for happiness after so many years stuck in limbo, and the thought sobered me.
Darja seemed cautious, overly so in my opinion. I understood her hesitation; I could see as well as the others that we were dealing with things we didn’t fully understand, things that were bigger than us and likely had ramifications we didn’t fully grasp. I understood that magic was dangerous, as she kept unhelpfully pointing out. But as much as I tried to reason with her, it was like the awe she had felt in the beginning had shifted to trepidation. We could conjure snow out of thin air, for crying out loud. I found it hard to focus on the negatives when faced with something so wondrous.
It was Stephen, however, that surprised me the most. As the days passed and we got further through the book of spells, he grew progressively quieter and more withdrawn. It was like the boy who had been so excited to work on the translation, to be a part of whatever this was, had ceased to exist, leaving behind someone who was clearly fighting some internal battle I didn’t understand. But instead of making me suspicious of him, as I had been before, I found myself worried. He wasn’t cautionary like Darja, or skeptical like Aggie, he was just…troubled. Like the magic was personal to him somehow.
I’d been feeling somewhat closer to him after the morning spent at his apartment, but I still didn’t really know him at all.
Thanks to either the presence of our bond, or perhaps her own powers of observation, I wasn’t the only one who had noticed something was bothering Stephen.
“Take him with you,” Darja said to me in a low voice.
It was late afternoon on a Tuesday, and my parents had once again begun to comment on how little time I’d been spending at the house recently. Coupled with the fact that it was my niece, Mia’s sixth birthday, and I didn’t have an excuse to miss the party.
“I can’t take him with me to a family birthday party,” I stage-whispered back to her. “He’s not supposed to be in Vaikesti. Remember the arrest? Besides, he’s still a suspect.”
“He’s not supposed to be taking pictures at festivals,” she countered. “It’s not illegal for you to invite him to a birthday party. Besides, you can just leave him in the car; you’re not going to stay long anyway.” She cast a meaningful glance at me. “And you need to talk to him. Find out what’s going on.”
I sighed, but didn’t argue. She was right, anyway. After my visit to his apartment, Stephen and I seemed to have called an unspoken truce. I wasn’t sure what his problem was, but I at least had to admit he probably wasn’t up to anything nefarious after all.
To my surprise, he agreed to come with me without much convincing. He was quiet in the car though, no sign of the slew of personal questions about my family that I’d expected, and finally I glanced over to where he was staring listlessly out the passenger’s window.
I jumped right in.
“So, what’s going on with you?”
He blinked over at me, seeming a little surprised to be pulled out of his thoughts. “What do you mean?”
I sighed impatiently. “Clearly there’s something wrong. Ever since we started trying out the spells, you’ve been…” I waved my hand vaguely in the air. “…weird.”
I’d expected him to blow me off, to roll his eyes and look back out the window, but he surprised me by tipping his head against the headrest and blowing out a breath.
“I know. I guess…it’s just a lot, you know? To take in.”
I couldn’t argue with him there. With all this magic dumped in his lap, I imagined he must be feeling similar to the way I had after my Spring Day Ceremony.
He went on. “I just never expected it to be…real.”
We were both silent for a moment, then he tilted his head toward me.
“Do you ever wonder…how your life might be different if you’d known from the beginning?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
He glanced away. “If magic had always been part of your life…would you have done things differently? Would you…”
I wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
“Well, I sure wouldn’t have participated in the Ceremony,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, but he didn’t answer. “Honestly though,” I went on, “how could you know what choices you’d make under different circumstances? If magic had always been a normal, everyday part of my life, we probably wouldn’t all be in the situation we’re in now, right?”
His voice was quiet as he stared through the windshield. “But would that be better or worse? If power like that was normalized, would we use it responsibly, because we knew the cost? Or would we all be doing terrible things because we’d been raised that way?”
I wasn’t sure he was even still talking to me, and not himself.
He turned to me again, and the expression on his face surprised me. It was almost pleading, his tortured eyes wide as they connected briefly with mine.
“What am I missing?” I asked. I’d been on autopilot through the drive, and I realized we’d turned onto my street. I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, turning in my seat to face him fully.
“Is it worth it?” he asked.
“Is what worth it?”
“You said you wouldn’t have participated in the Ceremony if you’d known. Is that true? If you’d known what was going to happen, if everyone had known the bond was going to work, would you have done it?”
I felt cold. When I’d said that, I’d assumed if the community knew the magic was real, they never would be sacrificing girls, but I suddenly realized how ridiculous that was. They were sacrificing girls based on the mere chance the magic might work. If they knew it really did, they would…well. Who knew what they might be capable of?
I didn’t answer Stephen’s question, but I didn’t need to. It was clear he could see the answer in my face.
“What are people willing to do for power like that?” he asked me, and I knew he wasn’t looking for a response. His voice dropped even lower, so quiet I could barely hear it. “What would I have done?”
I felt it again, that certainty that I was missing something, and I opened my mouth to ask again, but just then the front door opened and my mother poked her head out of the house. She smiled when she saw me and called out with a wave.
“I thought I heard a car. What are you waiting for, kallike, come in.”
I waved back and gestured that I’d be right in, but when I turned to Stephen once again the tortured expression was gone, replaced by his normal calm.
That wasn’t the end of it though. I needed to know what was bothering him, what his cryptic comments meant. I made a mental note to bring it up again later, and if I didn’t get anywhere, maybe Darja could try.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for the door handle, then hesitated. “Do you want to come in?” I asked.
It was probably a bad idea. After all, the last time my family had seen Stephen, it was at the Spring Day festival, camera in hand, where he’d caused a scene and managed to get himself arrested. Not to mention he was still a suspect in Darja’s disappearance. But Darja was right. It wasn’t illegal to invite him to my house. Besides, he hadn’t actually done anything illegal in the first place.
“Don’t you want me to wait in the car?” he asked, seeming to read the hesitation on my face. “I don’t want to cause trouble with your dad…”
My lip curled at the mention of my father. “I don’t care what he says. You’re my friend, and you can come if I say you can.”
“Okay,” he started to reply, but I was already climbing out of the car and stomping toward the house. Just let my dad try to say something.
Inside the house, Stephen’s wide eyes scanned the foyer, taking in family pictures, the hand-lettered sign above the door that read, “Õnnista seda kodu,” the dried bouquet of blue cornflowers that sat on the small table by the entry. I could practically see him mentally cataloguing everything and filing it away, and I felt a surprising sense of relief that he seemed to be acting like himself again.
Laughter and voices were coming from the kitchen, and I made my way there, beckoning for him to follow. Rounding the corner, I was immediately surrounded by the noise and bustle of family, but for the first time I felt removed, like I didn’t fully belong there anymore, and a swell of sadness filled my chest. I missed Darja. This was her family just as much as it was mine.
My sisters Hanna and Arina were gathered around the kitchen island with my mom, voices raised in good-natured argument. On the floor, Hanna’s son, two-year-old Marten, scooted by, in hot pursuit of my poor cat, Sprat, who darted around the corner and out of sight. One of my aunts was carrying a platter piled high with food out toward the dining room, and I could hear the shrill voice of another aunt coming from the living room, where the deep baritones of my uncles and brothers rumbled in laughter.
I stood awkwardly in the doorway until my sisters glanced up.
“Sofi. Finally. I haven’t seen you in weeks,” Hanna chastised, coming around the island to grip me in a hug. “Where have you—who’s this?” she asked, catching sight of Stephen. Her voice wasn’t judgmental, merely curious, but I caught Arina exchanging a glance with my mother.
It wasn’t like I couldn’t bring a friend to a family gathering—I’d brought friends over plenty of times before, as had my sisters, and there was never any shortage of food, not in a Vaikesti house. But there was no way they didn’t all remember him from the Spring Day festival. I’d known it would be awkward, but I’d assumed they wouldn’t make a scene. Had I misjudged them?
I held my breath, but to my immense relief, my mom simply wiped her hands on her apron and crossed the room to shake his hand. “Yelena Ilves,” she said, smiling pleasantly as Stephen introduced himself, then simply asked, “Will you be staying for dinner?”
I blew out my breath and sent Stephen an encouraging smile, relieved that there wouldn’t be any trouble after all.
I was wrong, of course.
The trouble came about half an hour later, when we were all filing into the dining room, where all the extra leaves had been added to the table, chairs wedged in at every angle to accommodate my unwieldy family. Up until then, I’d spent the time catching up with my sisters, then showed Stephen my room, which he’d taken in with shy curiosity, and we’d managed to avoid my father, who’d stayed cloistered in the living room with my uncles and brothers.
I should have known the trouble would come from him.
He entered the room last, and the second he caught sight of us he went completely still. “What are you doing here?” His voice echoed through the room, suddenly quiet save for the giggles of the oblivious children.
I stiffened, anger flushing my cheeks at my father’s tone.
Stephen, to his credit, mustered a smile, and held out his hand. “I’m Stephen Jennings, a friend of your daughter,” he introduced himself.
My dad made no move to cross the room to take his hand. “Like hell you are,” he snapped, his gaze flying to me. My jaw set. How dare he speak to my friend like that, after all he’d done? If he knew what I knew—
“What were you thinking, Sofia,” my father demanded, “bringing an outsider into my house?”
His house? It was my house too, as much as it may no longer feel that way. I opened my mouth to retort, but he cut me off, turning his attention back to Stephen.
“You are not welcome here.” His voice cracked like a whip. “In fact, you are not welcome in this community, and you are certainly not welcome with my daughter. You may leave now.”
With that, he pulled out his chair and sat, clearly considering the discussion to be over. I opened my mouth again, ready to let the vitriol inside me fly out, when suddenly I heard my mother give a muffled cough, and the words died on my lips.
I glanced over at her, to where she was staring down at her lap, red staining her cheeks, clearly uncomfortable with my father’s outburst. My eyes jumped involuntarily to my sister Hanna, sitting on my mother’s right, the person I would have considered my biggest ally. She, too, was looking away, not meeting my eyes. My gaze did a circuit of the table, taking in all the faces: my aunts, uncles, brothers, nieces and nephews, even my grandmother, her tiny body wedged in between my aunts. Not one of them spoke up, not one of them would even meet my eye, and suddenly shame and embarrassment flooded through me, hot and bitter. I never should have brought him here. I knew better, and all I was doing was ruining Mia’s birthday party.
My father glanced up at me again, and his face was even and smooth. “Sofi, kallike, are you staying or going?”
It was the endearment that did it. Proof of his absolute certainty that his word was law, and I would never disobey him. That I was a good daughter, who had simply made a poor choice, and of course I would show Stephen out, and never see him again, and it was my choice if I wanted to return to the table or not. My heart thudded down into my feet as I realized he was right. I would obey.
Besides, it was better this way. Better not to make a scene, not to upset the children.
“I’m sorry, father. I’ll go.” I crossed the room and bent to kiss my mother on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Mama.”
I turned, and felt the eyes of the whole room on my back as I headed to the door, Stephen hot on my heels.
I could feel him behind me, vibrating with tension, but he waited until we were safely in the car and pulling out onto the street before he rounded on me.
“What the hell was that?”
The uncharacteristic anger in his voice startled me and I glanced over, surprised.
“What?”
“‘I don’t care what he says. You’re my friend, and you can come if I say you can,’” he quoted my own words back at me. “How could you let him talk to you like that?”
“It was better that way; I didn’t want to make a scene,” I argued, feeling somewhat taken aback, but he scoffed.
“So it’s better to do what he says? Let him believe he’s right?”
The heat rose in my cheeks. “What was I supposed to do?” I demanded, glancing over at him. “Who cares if he thinks he’s right?”
He looked away, but the frustration was still clear in his tight voice. “I just didn’t expect you to act like that.”
“Like what?” I said, my own frustration rising. Just when I thought he was getting back to normal, here he was again, acting weird.
“Like you’re still…”
“Still what?”
He threw up his hands. “Still part of a cult.” He turned to face me, his auburn hair falling into his eyes. “I thought you had changed, that you weren’t part of this any more. I thought…” His voice dropped, the anger falling away. “…maybe you’d understand.”
We’d come full circle, I realized, and this was part of the same conversation we’d started in the car on the way over.
“Stephen,” I said, trying to keep my voice even as I turned out of the neighborhood and headed back toward Mirtel’s. “Understand what? What aren’t you telling me?”
He looked at me, emotion brimming in his eyes, but he didn’t speak for a long moment. I gave him space, trying to pay attention to the road in front of me, and waited. I had trusted him with my biggest secrets, sought him out when I needed to tell someone about my dad. I wasn’t sure when our dynamic had shifted, when I’d stopped viewing him with suspicion and he’d stopped thinking of me as something to study, but I hoped he knew that if he needed someone to talk to, he could trust me.
Finally he spoke, his voice coming out in a whisper. “I’ve…done things in my life that I’m not proud of. I found out what happens when someone thinks they’re acting for the greater good, and chooses how they want to define what is right and wrong. I…” he paused, looking frustrated. “I don’t know how to explain.”
“Start at the beginning?” I suggested.
His glasses slipped down his nose, and he pushed them up impatiently. “Sofi, you’re not the only one who has experience with cults.”
My eyes grew round. “You were in a cult?” I still didn’t like the word, didn’t like it applied to myself and my friends and family, but I had to admit, I could see his point.
“Not exactly. But I know what it’s like to have people tell you you’re doing the right thing, and for you to believe it, when you’re not doing the right thing at all. I know what it’s like to hurt people, because you think you’re supposed to. And I don’t want to see you fall back into that world.”
I pulled into the dirt yard behind Mirtel’s wagon and shut the car off, turning again to face him.
“Please, Stephen. Stop being cryptic. Talk to me; tell me what happened.”
He opened his mouth, but then both of us jerked in surprise when Darja flickered into existence, her body forming in the passenger’s seat, right on top of where Stephen was leaning toward me. Her transparent arm disappeared inside of his solid one, and he flinched, even though he couldn’t have felt anything.
“Shit,” she exclaimed, “I forgot you’d be sitting there.” But before she had a chance to move he’d leapt back, flinging open the door and bolting out of the car.
“Wait,” I called after him, but he only paused long enough to shoot me a look I couldn’t interpret. Then he was climbing into his own car, parked just a little ways up the path, and backing out toward the street.
Darja and I both turned in our seats, watching him go.