Draw Down the Moon, page 1
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For Emily
ONE
Wren
I’m pretty sure that, at any moment, blue and red lights will flash and the local sheriff will tear down the street and stop me. Again.
“Wren! Hurry up!” Lee whisper-shouts at me from the shadows.
With the hand not squeezing an entire bottle of Seventh Generation Powered by Plants dishwashing liquid into the fountain, I make what I hope is a calming gesture. “It’s fine. It’s natural. Won’t hurt the ecosystem at all. Plus, it’s not like we can actually go to prison for this.”
“Well, you can’t, but…”
I brush a hunk of white-blond hair out of my face and glance over my shoulder as Lee makes a motion that takes in his long, leanly muscled body, his deep brown skin, and his neatly braided cornrows. How did he get so grown-up looking? He’s only been gone two years? He was shorter when he moved away—short in height, short hair, short on muscles—just a kid. My prank partner. My buddy. I mean, I’ve seen him since he moved away. We’ve FaceTimed a million times and practically stalk each other’s Insta and TikTok. Rationally, I know he’s older. I’m older, too! But actually putting eyes on him in real life is something else. Something different. Something new … I feel my cheeks flush hot and know my blush is as glowing pink against my porcelain skin as the fuchsia dyed ends of my hair.
“I’ll hurry.” I quickly unscrew the cap and the rest of the dishwashing liquid glugs into the fountain. Balancing with my arms spread out, I tightrope walk around the lip of the basin that holds the three-tiered stone water feature situated in the middle of the quaint little courtyard in the heart of downtown Fern Valley. As I reach Lee, my Vans slip on the water-splashed stone, and I start to fall.
Lee’s strong hands catch me before I splat against the pavement. I look up and grin at him as I catch my balance and plant my feet firmly on the ground again. Yeah, he’s older, bigger, stronger. But he’s still my prank partner. My best friend who always has my back.
“You almost fell into…” Lee’s words trail off and I watch his eyes widen at something behind me.
I turn and do a little celebratory dance. “Yes! This is even better than I thought it was going to be, and I knew it was going to be epic.”
Lee’s head shakes back and forth, back and forth. “For the record, when I agreed to sneak out tonight, I did not know this was what you had in mind.”
“You didn’t really agree; I peer pressured you into it.”
“I think you mean coerced,” says Lee.
I grin, but not up at him. I’m too busy taking in the glorious sight of bubbles billowing from the fountain’s basin up, up, and up. The opalescent suds lift into the night sky like the sea-foam on our rough Oregon coast. “Admit it. This is magnificent.”
“It’s vandalism.”
Sure, he said the v word, but I could hear the familiar smile in his voice.
“It’s the perfect birthday present,” I say. What I don’t say out loud is that what actually makes my birthday perfect is the fact that he’s home. It’s so great to see Lee that not even knowing he’s leaving again tomorrow night can ruin my happiness. (I won’t let it ruin my happiness.)
“It’s not officially your birthday”—he takes his phone from his pocket and glances at it—“for fifteen more minutes. And I did not get you felony behavior as a gift.”
“This is a misdemeanor at best,” I correct him, and link my arm through his. “And I didn’t mean it’s my present from you. It’s my selfie birthday gift. You know, like last year my selfie gift was—”
“A wren. Tattooed on your lower back. How could I forget? I was on the phone with you for the whole thing.” Lee speaks a lot more quietly than me as he guides us into the concealing shadows the full moon casts under the pines circling the courtyard. “I also remember how you lied about your age to the sketchy tattoo artist. I’ll bet your uncles do, too.”
I don’t want to think about the semi-hysterical apoplectic meltdown Uncle Joel had last summer when he’d noticed the wren’s wingtip poking above the waistband of my shorts, so I quickly turn and face Lee as I change the subject. “But speaking of birthday gifts…” I waggle my eyebrows at him, cup my hands together, and hold them up expectantly.
“You can’t wait fifteen more minutes until it’s your actual birthday?”
“I’m sure it’s more like thirteen and a half minutes by now, but no. No, I cannot.” I give him the smile. I know it’s going to work on Lee. He can’t help it. Just like I can’t help the fact that he’s my person and has been since I moved to Fern Valley five years ago, newly orphaned, broken and lost, and not wanting to ever care about anyone again. Lee has been there for me since day one of eighth grade, and that has never changed—even when his mom got such a big promotion that their family had to relocate all the way across the country to Brooklyn. Lee and I stayed close, no matter the distance between us.
“Okay, turn around.”
I frown. “How am I going to get my present with my back turned?”
He takes my shoulders in his big hands and spins my body around so that I’m facing the fountain. For a moment I forget that he’s birthday gifting me, because the bubbles have spilled from the basin and are tumbling across the well-tended grass like they’re pouring from a dishwasher someone (perhaps me) accidentally put dish soap instead of dishwashing detergent into. Who knew that could make such a massive mess?
Then I feel something settle around my neck. I look down. The watery moonlight, speckled by the concealing boughs of the pines, catches the silver chain. I lift it and see the beautiful full moon made of a blue stone I recognize immediately. Aquamarine—the exact color of my eyes—glitters with a magick that I know I will never feel.
I turn and look up at Lee as I swallow several times and blink a lot, trying not to burst into tears. “I love it,” I finally manage to whisper.
His smile looks sad. “Mom and Dad put a little moon magick in it. It won’t last because you’re…” His words trailed off.
“Because I’m a Mundane,” I finish for him. “Lee, for the zillionth time. It’s okay. I don’t mind not having any magick, and this necklace is beautiful with or without any help from the moon.…” I pause, flash him my most mischievous smile, and add, “My sparkling personality is magickal enough all on its own.”
Lee’s Moonstruck. Like the rest of his family, he’s filled with the magick of the full moon he was born under. My mom and dad were Moonstruck, too. But not me. I wasn’t born under the right moon sign and the moon definitely hadn’t been full. So I’m just … me. And that’s okay. I made peace with being a Mundane when I was a kid. Wishing for something I could never have is a ridiculous waste of time, plus I like me just as I am.
Lee blows out a long breath and, as always, gives me a look that says he cannot understand why I’m fine with having no magick. “Well, I’m glad you like it. I wanted you to have something that you could wear so you don’t forget about me this summer.”
I press my hands against my ears like we’re kids again and he’s trying to tell me one of his scary stories. “No no no, it’s my birthday. I’m not listening. No sad talk tonight.”
“Wren, it’s Saturday. Almost Sunday. I leave Sunday evening for Moon Isle. I really wish we had more time to hang out, but we don’t. I’m going to be gone. Tomorrow. And you know they confiscate our phones and computers. I’m not going to be able to talk to you for months and then—”
“No! We’re not talking about that!” The words shoot out of me louder than I expect. I don’t want to talk about the thing that seems to be lurking, big and sad and permanent between us. We are different. Not because I identify as a girl and him a guy. Not because I’m white and he’s Black. We are different because Lee is Moonstruck and, even though I shouldn’t be, I’m a Mundane. This difference between us never bothered me before now because turning eighteen and graduating had always seemed a million years away. Now that those million years have passed, I realize that it does bother me. But not because of the magick, or my lack thereof. It bothers me because I just got him back—for what seems like a split second (well, twenty-four hours, but it feels like a split second)—and now he’s going to leave and go to a magickal isle full of other Moonstruck where he’ll learn all about how to use his magick and head into an amazing future. A future without me. Will we still be best friends afterward? Will he think I’m too boring? Too ordinary?
I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to talk about it. Not in the sliver of time we have left together, and it’s my birthday, so I don’t have to. “Check the time. I’ll bet it’s my actual birthday now. Hey!” I go on before he can stop me. “Take a pic of me in front of the fountain!”
Lee sighs but takes his phone out of his pocket again. “Five minutes until midnight.”
“Yeah! Come on! I’ll be really fast—and stealthy.” I sprint toward the fountain, now a giant, sudsy mound. Bubbles are everywhere and I dash into them giggling as they lift around me. I turn to face Lee and hold up the delicate necklace so that the full moon sways gently as it glitters like the bubbles that surround me in the silver light. “Lactose intolerance!” I grin at the words he and I have been substituting for cheese since our disastrous eighth-grade school photos.
Lee laughs softly and takes the picture. Before he can put his phone away I say, “Wait! How long until midnight now?”
He glances at the screen. “Two minutes.”
“Perfect. Let’s take another pic at exactly midnight and send it to Sam. It’ll be like she’s here with us.” Samantha Hopp is my other best friend and the only other Moonstruck kid I know. Sam and I have been inseparable since we met in Mrs. Johnson’s first-grade class at Arrow Springs Elementary School. She was the smartest one in our class, which got her bullied. Way back then, I was the tallest kid in our class (I’m five feet nothing; I swear I quit growing in elementary school), which meant I backed every one of those bullies down. Moving two hours away from her the year I turned thirteen was the second most awful thing that had ever happened to me until Lee also moved away. Sometimes it seems like everyone I care about leaves me.
“Okay, I’m counting down,” called Lee. “Ten … nine … eight…”
I mentally shake myself and quickly step a little to the side and pose with a hip cock and a knowing look at the fountain that will tell Sam, I’m responsible for the tidal wave of bubbles, though I’m 100 percent sure she will already guess that.
“… five … four … three … two … one!”
I grin and take a breath to shout Lactose intolerance! again, but the words never leave my mouth.
A spear of moonlight, silver and impossibly bright, strikes me. It invades me, and heat shivers through my body as my skin prickles with gooseflesh. My teeth chatter, though I’m filled with warmth, and my heartbeat gallops so hard and fast I might pass out.
For the first time in my life, I feel it, moon magick, and it isn’t like anything I imagined when I was a kid watching my parents wield Her lustrous power. It also has no similarity to the spark of energy Lee and Sam have described to me as their powers began to mature. It’s raw and overwhelming.
My head tilts back, and I feel my hair lifting around me like I’ve been electrocuted. But I have no time to think. My focus is pulled one place—up. My gaze locks on the full moon that dominates the sky above me. I can feel Her. She sees me. I know She does. I’m filled with warmth, and for the span of one gulping breath, in and out, I am Moonstruck and it is glorious.
The sound of a police siren shatters my focus and I collapse against the soapy ground with a loud “oof.”
Lee’s there, bending over me, his dark eyes wide with worry. “Wren! Wren! Say something! Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
I look up and can barely see him through the bright spots of light messing up my vision. I try to stand, but my legs feel rubbery, like I just hiked up Saddle Mountain. I try to tell Lee that I can’t make my legs work, but my voice won’t obey me, either. My breath comes out in panicked gasps, and I wrap my arms around myself as another siren splits the quiet night. “Cops,” I manage to gasp through chattering teeth. “We gotta get outta here.”
“It’s okay. I got you.” Lee doesn’t wait for me to calm down. He lifts me, and cradles me close to his chest as he sprints from the courtyard and into the dark alley that connects the stores lining Main Street.
My head is too heavy to hold up, and I rest it against Lee’s shoulder. The red and blue lights of a Fern Valley sheriff’s cruiser make kaleidoscopic shapes on the brick buildings lining the alley, but only for a moment. Lee’s moving fast. I know he’s spent a lot of time in the gym over the past two years, but I’m amazed at how effortlessly he carries me. Buildings blur as he runs through our little town. Lee cuts through alleys, sprints from shadow to shadow, and races across streets. For once, I’m glad of the sleepiness of our small town. It makes it easier for Lee to avoid being seen. His speed and smarts do the rest.
I feel strange. My mind is hyper-focused. I know exactly where Lee is headed—to our place, an apple orchard that frames the west side of town. My body is empty, exhausted, numb. My hands and feet are cold, but everything else is flushed and hot. I can’t figure out whether my clothes are wet from the suds I fell into or from sweat. And time is … off. It seems like it’s only been seconds since the fountain, but Lee stops, and this time it’s not because he’s slipping from shadow to shadow. I lift my head from his shoulder and look around.
“Granny’s Place. Our orchard.” My voice works, but it’s scratchy and weak.
“Can you stand?” Lee asks.
I clear my throat before I answer. “I think I should sit first.”
He nods and carries me far enough into the orchard that there is no chance of us being seen by cars driving by. Lee places me gently down under a gnarled old tree. I lean against the rough but familiar bark. Remnants of apple blossoms perfume the night air with sweetness. Unlike the larger farms surrounding Fern Valley, Granny’s Place is a small, old-timey orchard. The ground between the mature apple trees is carpeted by thick grass and wilted blossoms. The rows aren’t industrially spaced. The trees dot the field like they are old friends instead of soldiers lined up for inspection. There is one light at the irrigation outbuilding near the road. It and the full moon illuminate the orchard just enough for me to see Lee’s brow furrow as he crouches beside me, staring into my face.
I meet his gaze. “What. The. Hell. Was. That?” I enunciate each word carefully because my teeth would still like to chatter.
“You have magick!” he blurts.
I shake my head. “No. How? No. How?” Then I realize I sound like a caffeinated parrot and press my lips closed.
He sits in the grass across from me. “Don’t know how, but there is absolutely no doubt about it. Wren, you’re Moonstruck.”
Dizziness washes over me as I begin to realize the extent of what that means. I’m not supposed to have magick! Ever! I’ve figured out my life as a Mundane and been totally cool with it, but now? Who am I now? If I really do have magick, all my plans will be void. I won’t attend the local community college to take the business classes I need so I can manage Pages, my uncles’ awesome little bookstore.
I will have to leave this place where I’m safe. This home where I survived losing my parents and reinvented myself.
Where I found the happiness I thought I’d lost forever.
My hand trembles as I brush hair back from my face. “This isn’t like anything that happened to you or Sam,” I say in a last effort to keep change at bay.
“No, it isn’t. What just happened to you is more.”
“But Lee,” I whisper. “I’m not a Moonstruck. I’m just me—non-magical me.” My chin quivers and the warmth of tears dampens my already-heated cheeks. “I want to stay home. I need to stay home. Maybe it’s all just some kind of weird mistake.” A sudden thought hits me, and I struggle to sit up straighter. “What if breathing in the bubbles did something to us? Like, I don’t know, a mutual hallucination or something?”
Slowly, Lee takes his phone out of his pocket. He touches the screen and its bluish light illuminates his face. He taps it, stares at it for several breaths, and then turns it to face me.
In the picture I’m awash with silver light—like it’s coming out of me. My head is tilted back and my hair, which has always been so light it’s almost white, is spread around me haloing my body. As I stare at this unfamiliar version of myself, all I can think is that the bright pink ends of my hair look like neon blood in the moonlight. I pull my gaze away and my trembling hand covers the screen. Lee puts the phone back in his pocket, and I can’t control the sobs any longer.
“I’m s-scared.” Tears break my voice.
Lee scoots beside me and puts his arm around me, squeezing my shoulder gently. “It’s going to be okay. There’s nothing to be scared of. Wren, I’ll be with you for the whole thing.”
