"Okay, what else do I have to do?"
He taught me what to say and how to tap a finger on the object to load it with the memory confusion spell. "Every time you tap it, you've got to sort of push your will into the object. Every push should equal one memory block."
"Should?"
He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "Well, I've never been able to ask your sister or mother how many times certain people we know have started to approach them then ended up walking away confused."
Ah. So he had been doing a little secret protection work of his own. Mom and Emily would go nuts if they ever learned what he had been up to. I grinned. "I see your point."
"All right, let's try it. I'll turn my back, and you charm one of the lawn chairs. Then I'll try to approach each one. That way when I get confused, you'll know it really worked."
"Sounds good."
We practiced for a while to make sure I had the spell down. Then he had to call it a night. "Sorry, son, but I'm worn-out and have a board meeting early in the morning."
"No problem, Dad. Mind if I stay out here and keep practicing awhile?" I held my breath, expecting him to say that I couldn't keep casting without his supervision according to Clann rules.
Instead, he nodded and headed for the patio door. Then he hesitated and looked back. "You know, I really am proud of you today. Feels like I'm seeing my little boy becoming a man right in front of me."
My throat suddenly tightened. I managed a nod.
"Let's train again tomorrow night," he suggested with a grin.
Before I could think it through, I found myself nodding in agreement. He was still grinning as he entered the house.
Great. Now he probably thought I'd changed my mind about following in his footsteps for the Clann leadership. If so, I'd have to figure out a way to let him down gently. Later. Right now, I had some serious memory confusion to create.
CHAPTER 5
Tristan
I ran up to my room and looked around. What could I put the spells in? Pens? Pencils? Paper clips? Nah, Savannah was always loaning out stuff like that in algebra. Maybe Emily had something I could use.
I had a sudden image of my sister handing me tampons just to torture me, and shuddered. No, I'd better not ask Emily. I glanced at my bedside clock. Eight fifty-six. Not too late to call for some insider advice. I grabbed a telephone book and my cordless phone.
"Hello, may I speak with Anne, please?" I said when a woman answered.
"Who is calling?" It was probably Anne's mother, who worked in the accounting department at Coleman BioMed, Dad's company. Not good. If she mentioned to any coworkers that I was calling Savannah's best friend at home...
Thinking fast, I replied, "Arthur."
"Arthur, it's a little late for phone calls."
At eight fifty-seven? Now I knew where Anne got her personality from. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry for the late phone call, but it's a math emergency." That wasn't too much of a stretch on the truth.
"One moment."
I heard murmuring in the background. Then Anne picked up the phone. "Why, hello, Arthur. Having trouble with that warty little problem we ran into today?" Her voice dripped with smug satisfaction.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I am. I need to know what types of things S-I mean, your friend usually carries around in her backpack." I barely stopped myself from saying Savannah's name out loud. Knowing my parents, they'd probably put a spell on my room to warn them if I ever said her name again.
"What doesn't she have in there? The girl never cleans anything. Not her backpack, not her locker, not even her bedroom. Every time I sleep over at her house, I end up spending half the time cleaning her room just so I have some space to breathe. Drives me crazy!"
I pictured lacy scraps of underwear and bras lying around a sleeping Savannah, and fought to exhale. "Uh, not to interrupt the venting here, but I could use your help now."
"Ha! I knew you couldn't handle it on your own." She sighed. "All right, what do you want?"
"I need access to her backpack at lunch tomorrow. Or better yet, maybe you can make the delivery."
"And what would that be exactly?"
"Don't worry. I wouldn't give you anything that would get her or you in trouble. It's just something that needs to stay in her backpack for as long as possible, say a couple months, at least."
Silence filled the phone.
"Anne? You still there?"
After another few seconds' hesitation, I heard a door click shut on her end of the line before she whispered, "These things for her backpack...are they a...a Clann thing?"
Surprise made it my turn to hesitate. What had Anne heard about the descendants? "Define what you think 'Clann things' are."
"You know, witchy stuff. Stuff that would make my parents go nuts. They're Pentecostal."
She said "they," not "we." It sounded like she was about as on board with her family's religious choices as I was with my parents' plans for my future.
I couldn't decide if it was a good thing or simply disturbing that Anne and I had anything in common.
"No offense, but I'm really not allowed to talk about the Clann." There, that was honest and still playing by the rules. Descendants weren't allowed to discuss their abilities with outsiders other than their husbands and wives. And even those outsiders had spells cast on them to bind them from ever mentioning the Clann to anyone else. The elders didn't mess around when protecting Clann secrets.
Anne's sigh gusted into the phone. "Fine. Just tell me this...will it really help Savannah?"
"Yeah. It will."
"Then I'll do it. Just don't use anything made out of chocolate, or she'll eat it. It's like her kryptonite."
I laughed before I could stop myself. "I'll have to remember that." I scanned my room, wondering what I could use and starting to get frustrated again.
Then I saw it...a box of those little conversation heart candies. Savannah had given them to me on Valentine's Day in the fourth grade. The same day we'd pretended to get married and kissed. She hadn't signed her name on the box, so Mom never made me throw them out.
"How does she feel about really old conversation heart candies?"
"Oh, she hates those. Apparently they make her think of a certain backstabbing traitor, or something like that."