It had all seemed so simple all morning, but Alan’s nerve almost deserted him when Summer called and asked if it was all right to come over. He was a little amused at himself despite everything. He could sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to spike Frenchy’s tires with his blood running as cold as ice, but when a pretty girl expressed interest in him his knees went weak? Goddess, something seemed screwy about that. Just one girl, rather sweet, seeming to like him – that was unprecedented, and he had little idea of how to handle it.

Summer had really surprised him yesterday. In their talks earlier in the day, it proved that she had some knowledge of the practical side of the Craft as it was practiced today, which wasn’t all that surprising. After all, there was a lot of it woven here and there throughout fantasy literature, and he knew that she’d read a fair amount of it. Someone could pick up a lot about the Craft that way, although much of it was likely to be incorrect.

What really got to him though was the way she’d reacted to the athame. She’d acted a little like she didn’t know what it was, but when she presented her honors to the Goddess with it in the classic way, he knew that she knew more about it than she let on, because even he could feel the power she’d projected. She’d seemed almost stunned by the power, as it still stunned him from time to time.

He’d never really worked all that hard to cover up the fact that he was one of the Chosen, but he had just kept quiet about it, because it was clear that it would have caused all kinds of trouble in school. He knew that his mother thought that it was mostly a crock of shit and laughed it off, but his father at least paid some homage to it. He hadn’t really understood it until three years before, when he’d spent quite a bit of time with his grandmother and his aunt, learning many of the ways of the Craft, and being presented to the Goddess before it was over with. He’d had further instruction about it in each of the following summers, including a couple of weeks with his grandmother back in June. Though he had a scientific mindset, he realized that there were unfathomed powers beyond that – he’d felt them, knew they were there, and didn’t question them. What he’d told Summer the day before had been intentionally ambiguous, intended to neither confirm nor deny.

He’d never really expected to meet another one of the Chosen in Spearfish Lake, and had no idea that there were even others here. Although she was irreligious and a touch mystical on the surface, he would never, ever have picked Summer out of a crowd as having been an initiated devotee of the Goddess. She hadn’t exactly admitted it, and then neither had he, but the truth seemed pretty clear to him.

Now he was beginning to realize that he was going to have to reveal more of himself to her, and hope that she would reveal more of herself to him. It seemed tricky, loaded with potential potholes, but it seemed likely that the two of them could accomplish a lot if they joined their powers. It was a lot more than just a typical teenage romance that barely seemed to be getting started, and he really did not want to fuck things up with her by pushing too hard, too soon.

There was nothing to do but to plow ahead the best he could and hope for the best, Goddess help him.

He’d decided to start revealing his beliefs just a little bit more by wearing a small pentacle necklace. He didn’t often wear it, but it seemed like it would send the message without being blatant about it. If she knew what a pentacle was – and he was sure she did – and if she commented on it, then maybe the way would be open for further discussion. Now, he was sitting in the living room, watching out the window waiting for her to drive up.

Finally, after what seemed like hours and hours, she did. He got up, went to the front door and opened it for her. “So how are you doing today?” he called as she got out of the car and he went out to greet her.

“Pretty good,” she smiled at him as she reached into the car and brought out a book bag. “I had some thoughts about the game last night and brought some stuff we might want to look at.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it some too,” he admitted. “The big thing I can come up with is that I think we need to make the inquisitors even more evil.”

“I think I agree,” she said. “They really are the bad guys. If some Christian doesn’t like it or won’t admit to the evil of the church, then the hell with them. They don’t have to play the game. After all, they’re the ones who tried to burn out the believers, steal their holidays and pretend the believers were the ones who were evil.”

Wow, he thought, that was a powerful statement for standing in the driveway. “Yeah,” he said. “There’s no reason to paint them as anything but the evil that they were. Have you had lunch yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” she said. “I thought maybe we could run over to the Frostee Freeze.”

“Not yet,” he said. “At least not until the personal protection order is in place, and that probably won’t happen until later today. How about if we have something here?”

“Sure, I don’t have any problem with it,” she smiled as he led the way toward the front door. “Do you have anything in particular in mind?”

“I’m kind of partial to tomato soup, the kind that comes in a can,” he said. “I know it’s kind of hot today, but I’ve been spending my days in the air conditioning so it doesn’t seem quite as out of line. We could have peanut butter sandwiches with that, there’s something tangy about the combination.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” she said as they walked inside. As he closed the door, she said a little more softly, “Are your folks home?”

“No, we’re alone,” he replied.

“Good,” she smiled, then took him in her arms and kissed him. No little peck on the cheek, either – this was a deep one that went on for a long time. This was a good deal more powerful than the kisses they’d shared Sunday night when Jack and Vixen were there – in fact, Alan thought he could almost taste the Goddess herself in that kiss.

Finally they broke apart a little. “Hey,” she said, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to do it last night, but it didn’t seem like a good idea with your folks around.”

“Yeah, but there wasn’t anything we could do about that,” he said, looking into her pretty face and her bright eyes. “I’m glad we got to do it today, though.”

“Want to do it again?”

“Yes.”

Howie made it to the bleachers of the soccer field before Misty, but only by riding very hard once he left the shack. He was a little out of breath, so put his bike down and sat on the bottom row of the bleachers to rest up.

He hadn’t been here much in recent years. Soccer was not a big sport in Spearfish Lake, but he’d been on some teams when he was younger, and then he’d been over here a bit. Going over his mental map of the area, it seemed like the pond that Misty had been talking about couldn’t be very far away.

Much though he looked forward to seeing Misty and doing what they seemed likely to do, he couldn’t get Frenchy and the beer out of his mind. It seemed almost criminal to let him get away with that, knowing what he knew. Breaking into the shed wouldn’t be a big problem, he thought, but there were several other problems. Moving the beer without a vehicle, and not getting caught at it were big ones, as was finding a place to hide it himself. Most of all, it had to be an absolute secret; there was too much risk that any word of it whatsoever would get back to Frenchy. Obviously, he had to keep it to himself. It was all a big puzzle, and there were a couple of pieces missing, but there were some ideas, too.

He was mulling over some of those ideas, wondering if it was worth the trouble and the risk, when Misty showed up, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, like he was – except that he could see the tie of her bikini around her neck, peeking out from under the T-shirt. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said in her sweet voice. Right after you called, I had a call asking me to baby sit tonight. I know I’d like to be with you then too, but the pay is pretty good.”

“Fine with me,” he said absently. “You know I’d rather be with you, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“I know,” she said. “That means that I’ll have to get home before supper, but we’ll still have all afternoon to hang out, and that beats no time at all.”

“Yes, it does,” Howie agreed. “Actually, I’d just as soon let the Nintendo go for one day. I’ve been playing it enough to hold me for a while, especially when there are other things we could be doing.”

“Like swimming and making out?” she giggled.

“Like swimming and making out,” he agreed. “I think I could get to the pond you’re talking about from here, but I don’t know about this path you mentioned.”

“It’s not so much a path as just a way that avoids the heaviest brush,” she said. “We can ride our bikes part of the way, but we’ll have to push them some, too.”

“You know where you’re going,” he said. “Why don’t you lead?” As if she hadn’t been leading him a lot the past few days, he thought sarcastically, and not that he minded.

“Fine with me,” she grinned. “Let’s go.”

Howie picked up his bike and got on it, following her as she pedaled down the length of the soccer field, around the far goal, and onto a faint path into the woods. She didn’t follow it far before she veered off the path and began to pick her way through ferns and around trees while he followed. Following her wasn’t all bad, since it gave a nice view of her round and heretofore untouched bottom, which was still very nice looking even though it was wrapped in denim.

One of the nice things about his BMX bike was that even though it was slower, he could stay on it in places that she couldn’t pedal her touring bike, so he didn’t have to walk as far. He had a general idea of where he was as she led him down a small hill, and on a winding route that led toward the pond. It got thick enough in a couple of places that he had to get off and push the bike, but really it wasn’t too bad. After a few minutes, she led them to a tiny pond, only a few yards across. To look at it, it wasn’t very deep, and had a sandy shore and sandy bottom. If they were looking for alone, this was about as good as they were going to find.

“This is it,” she said. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, this is a neat place,” he said. “I’ve been here before, once or twice, and I don’t think people come here very much.”

“I do,” she said. “I mean, I don’t come real, real often, but sometimes I just have to get away from the house and this is where I come. At the right time of day it’s sunny for a couple hours, and sometimes I come back here, take off all my clothes, and just work on my tan.”

Now that would be one hell of a sight to see, he thought. It probably wasn’t going to happen today, but was not outside the realm of possibility for the future. “Aren’t you afraid someone will see?” he asked.

“Not really,” she smiled. “I meant what I said that people don’t come back here much. Let’s go swimming, then maybe we can lie out in the sun some.”

“Fine with me,” he grinned.

It didn’t take either of them long to peel off their jeans and T-shirts, bringing Howie down to his board trunks, and Misty down to the bikini that he’d seen her wear all day on Sunday. “God, Misty,” he said when he saw her in the bikini, “I couldn’t say it when I was around the folks Sunday, but you look terrific in that.”

“You really like it?” she frowned. “Mom thinks it’s not appropriate for a girl my age.”

“Your mother is full of it,” Howie snorted. “You may be the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen, and that bikini just brings it out. But I’ll bet what’s underneath is even better. I mean, I know it is for the top, but the rest has got to be just as nice. You’re something else, Misty.”

“Howie,” she shook her head. “You’re sweet, you really are. I don’t think you know what you’ve done to me. We should have done it earlier, but the soccer field just didn’t seem like the right place. Would you give me a kiss?”

“You have to ask?” he grinned, and took her into his arms. As they stood there mouth to mouth, chest to chest, his hand could feel the knot that held the back string of her bikini closed. It was just a simple bow knot, and it was tempting, oh so tempting, to just pull the strings and let it fall free. After all, it wouldn’t reveal anything that he hadn’t seen yesterday . . . but that might be a little pushy, so he just kept his hand there, wishing.

Eventually, she broke the kiss a little, and whispered in his ear, “Go ahead, Howie. I want you to.”

Scarcely believing it, he pulled the strings of the knot, then moved up to the one around her neck, which came loose just about as easily. Without breaking their hold on each other or their renewed kiss, he could feel her step back a little and pull the bits of cloth from between them. “There,” she said when she broke their kiss again. “That feels better.”

“It sure does,” he agreed, feeling her hard little nipples up against his chest. How wonderful it had been to taste them yesterday! He hoped he’d get to do it again today.

Howie thought that if he were bare belly to bare belly with Marcia Hemphill, the fattest and ugliest girl in the class, he might well be just as hard, but this was different. He really did like this girl, and it was getting pretty clear that the two of them were going to be having a major high school romance. “Yes, Misty,” he said. “I really like you. We see a lot of things in the same way, and we really have a good time together. I’m very happy that you chose me to be your boyfriend.”

“I’m very happy that you chose me to be your girlfriend,” she said softly. “I know I can trust you, and Howie, I’m not ready just yet, but I think sometime we’ll be ready to do what we both really want to do.”

It seemed to Summer that Alan knew his way around the kitchen, so she just stood back and let him find things and get the soup going. After a bit, he pulled out the bread and peanut butter, and she took it on herself to make the sandwiches. “This will be neat,” she said. “My mom likes to do natural stuff pretty much, so it’s been a long time since I’ve had canned tomato soup. That’s kind of a treat for me.”

“Having you here is a real treat for me,” Alan said, quite truthfully. He’d often dreamed of having a girlfriend, and now it seemed like it really was on the cusp of happening. It seemed unbelievable that he’d found a girl possibly interested in him as a boyfriend. “How did we ever go so long without realizing that we have so much in common?”

“It beats me,” she said, shaking her head, and eyeing his necklace. “I’m glad we figured it out. Nice pentacle, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“Your necklace, it’s a pentacle,” she smiled with a knowing glance. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Of course I know what it means,” he said, not really wanting to come out and say what he meant. It seemed like too big a step, too soon. “It’s like yours, and I’m sure you know what it means.”

They both looked at each other silently, each afraid to say the next words – the words that would commit them to following what could be a dangerous path. Finally, Summer was the one who had the courage and took the next step. “Of course I know,” she said softly, then raised her voice. “Goddess, do I ever know!”

The words struck him hard, but he decided that the only way out was straight ahead. “I should have known,” he smiled. “There are signs. You are Wiccan, aren’t you?”

“Something like that,” she smiled serenely, but with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ve, uh, I’ve studied it a lot, and done some rituals. It, uh, seems to work for me. You too?”

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed, reaching for the right words that would commit himself but not be too specific. “Not really Wiccan either, but something like that, sort of related. It’s, uh, not something I’d want to get out around school.”

“Me either,” she smiled and let out a long sigh. “They don’t do burnings anymore, but there are some conservative Christians running around the school who I’m sure would be willing to re-institute the practice if they thought they could get away with it.”

“No shit,” he said, believing her words. Some of them would just love to be inquisitors and jam their Christianity down other people’s throats by force. It was not a pleasant thought, even in this enlightened day and age. But there was a caveat he thought he’d better make clear to her. “My, uh, my folks aren’t into it, but I’ve learned a lot about it from my grandmother and my aunt. I told you about them. I’ve, uh, done some rituals, too.”

“Shit,” she said, shaking her head in exasperation. “This isn’t going at all like I hoped it would. I wanted to be more subtle about it, Alan, but it’s hard. Look, my, uh, people have a tradition of strict secrecy, so I can’t say anything about them at all, but at least I can talk about the beliefs a little. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be for now.”

“I understand,” he nodded slowly. “We have some, uh, traditions and practices that we have to keep secret, too, but I think that still leaves a lot for us to share.”

“I sure hope so, Alan,” she said, and let out a long sigh. “Look, I didn’t exactly plan to do this, but now that we’ve gotten this far maybe we’d better get something clear. We’re still going to have to keep it a secret around Spearfish Lake, both of us, but I think maybe we can handle that. I think we need to let our, uh, people know that we know about each other, though.”

“I talked to my grandmother this morning. I told her that I thought you were Wiccan or something and that you seemed pretty knowledgeable about it. I, uh, told her about the power I felt coming off you when you presented my athame to the Goddess, and she said I should try and find out more about you.”

“I talked to, uh, one of my people about it this morning too,” she admitted. “She, uh, said pretty much the same thing, except like I said, I can’t tell you about our people.”

“This may be breaking your confidence,” he said, “but you’re not New-found Wiccan, are you? It’s been passed down?”

“We call those Foundlings,” she said. “We don’t see it as a token of disrespect, not really. Some are quite knowledgeable and devout. Others, unfortunately, are not, just pretending so they look cool, so it’s accepted that we can be a little more trusting of a traditional. Does that answer your question without really answering it?

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, smelling the soup boiling over and burning. “Shit,” he added sarcastically. “‘Double, double, toil and trouble.’”'

“‘Fire burn and cauldron bubble’,” she smirked. “Hey, I know some Shakespeare, too. Just dump it down the sink and set the pan to soaking, we’ve got more important things to do.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he replied. “We can still do peanut butter.”

“Not quite yet,” she told him in a serious tone. “I want to show you something.”

“What’s this?”

She reached into her book bag, and pulled out an oblong leather case. Opening it, she pulled out a sheathed athame. “I’m afraid it’s not as striking as yours is,” she said, handing it to him, “but it has a power of its own.”

He pulled the athame from the sheath and looked at it. “Very nice,” he said after studying it intently and feeling its power. “Hand wrought, I can feel that it carries some extra meaning with it. Mine is nice, but somehow it strikes me as a little modern. This is nice and traditional. Do you mind?”

“Feel free,” she smiled, knowing what he was going to do. After all, she’d done it yesterday, so she had no room to complain.

Alan took the athame in his right hand and closed his left hand over it, just like Summer had done the day before. He raised it straight over his head, imploring the Goddess to let him honor her, and Summer could feel the power flowing off of him, and knew that the Goddess was in their presence. He held the pose silently for several minutes, then lowered his arms and put the knife away.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “That clears up a lot of things in my mind.”

“Mine too,” she nodded solemnly.

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