Академический Документы
Профессиональный Документы
Культура Документы
ONE
ek . . .
M
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 1
s i l l a
It is impossible to know who you really are until you spend
time alone in a cemetery.
The headstone was cold against my back, pressing my thin
T-shirt into the sweat trickling down my skin. Dusk washed
the cemetery of shadows, lending it a quality of between-ness:
neither day nor night, but a gray, teary moment. I sat with my
legs crossed and the book in my lap. Beneath me, scraggly grass
hid my parents graves.
I brushed dirt o the front cover of the book. It was the
size of a paperback novel, so small and insignicant-seeming
between my hands. The mahogany leather cover was soft and
scued from years of use; the color had worn o the corners.
The pages used to be gilded, but that was rubbed o, too.
Cracking it open, I read the inscription again, whispering it to
myself, making it more real.
TWO
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 2
, ,
. ,
,
,
,
,,
,
. .
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 3
., .
,, ,
, , ,
. . ,
.
_ , , ,
,
It was signed only The Deacon. No last name or contact in-
formation.
Crows laughed, bursting up through headstones a distance
away. The black cloud of them cut through the air in a apping
of wings and raucous cawing. I watched them against the gray
sky as they ew west toward my house. Probably to terrorize
the blue jays that lived in our front-yard maple.
Wind blew my short hair against my cheeks, and I brushed
it back. I wondered who this Deacon was. He claimed friend-
ship with my dad, but Id never heard of him. And why he
would suggest such incredible, ridiculous things: that my dad
was a magician and healer, when hed only been a high school
Latin teacher. But despite that, I knew without a doubt that
I was holding a book my dad had written: I recognized his
ne, delicate handwriting, with its tiny loops in every capital L
and its perfectly angled Rs. Hed abhorred typing, and used to
lecture Reese and me about learning to write longhand
legibly. Reese had compromised by printing block letters, but
Id been too enamored of wild, looping cursive to worry about
readability.
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 4
Not the overwhelming blood that had saturated his shirt and
the carpet beneath his body, but the slightly oiled cigarettes-
and-soap when he came to breakfast every morning, after a
shower and quick smoke on the back patio. I dropped the book
into my lap and closed my eyes until Dad was right there, sit-
ting in front of me, one hand touching my right knee.
When I was little, he used to come into my bedroom just
before lights-out and touch my knee as he sank onto the bed.
Gravity would pull me closer and closer until I could lean my
head on his shoulder or climb into his lap while he told me
condensed versions of literary classics. My favorites had been
Frankenstein and Twelfth Night, and I asked for them again and
again.
In the cemetery, another crow cawed, a loner ying slowly
after his cousins.
I held the book up in my two hands and let it fall open
wherever it willed. When the fanning pages had chosen their
sides, I lowered it and glanced at the spell: Regeneration.
The diagram was a spiral inside a circle that narrowed to
the center like a snake. I only needed salt, blood, and breath.
Easy.
With a stick, I drew a circle in the cemetery dirt, and from
the plastic bag Id brought of ingredients readily available in my
kitchen, I pulled out a box of kosher salt. The crystals glittered
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 6
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
She looked away, her face going still as glass. When she spoke,
her voice was thin enough to shatter into a thousand pieces.
Its short for Drusilla. My dad taught Latin at the high school.
Oh, Latin, huh. Taught. Past tense.
It means something like strong. She said it like it was
ironic.
We stared at each other. I was torn between grabbing her
and yelling that I knew exactly what shed been doing and that
she had to stop before somebody got hurt . . . and pretending
we were both normal and didnt care about blood. Maybe she
was just a dumb cutter, or it was an accident. I didnt know
enough about her. Maybe it didnt have anything to do with my
mom. Maybe I hadnt really seen anything. I refused to let my-
self glance back down at the leaf.
Have you graduated? she asked.
Startled, I answered a bit too loudly. Oh, no. Im starting
school tomorrow. I oered my best wry smile. Cant wait.
You must be a senior?
Yeah.
We might not have any classes together, then. Im a junior.
I suck at history, I oered.
Im in AP. She smiled again, and real humor made her
eyes narrow. They didnt seem so ghostly and huge.
I laughed. Damn.
Silla nodded, and looked down. While wed been talking,
shed drawn her foot through the spiral etched into the dirt. It
was just a mess of lines now, and bits of dry grass and leaves.
No sign of anything weird. Relief made me bolder. Is your
hand okay?
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 16
17
Oh, um. She brought her hands out, slipping the folded
knife into her jeans pocket. A ring hugged each of her n-
gers. Splaying them wide, she studied her thumb. Blood was
smeared across it.
Peroxide, I said abruptly. Thats what Mom had used. I
hated the smell.
What?
You should use that to, uh, clean it.
It isnt so bad. Just a little prick, she murmured.
Silence surrounded us, except for the distant calling of
those crows.
Silla opened her mouth, paused, then sighed softly. I
should go home and take care of it.
I wished I had something else to say. But I was trapped be-
tween wanting to forget what I might have seen and wanting to
demand explanations. All I did know was that I didnt want
her to leave. Can I walk you?
No, thats okay. Its just a little ways.
Sure. I bent and picked up the little book for her. It was
plain and ancient-looking, with no title. Old family heir-
loom? I joked.
Silla froze, lips parted for an instant like she was afraid, but
then laughed. Yeah, exactly. She shrugged like we were sharing
a grand joke and took the book. Thanks. See you, Nicholas.
I held up a hand, waving. She darted o, making almost no
noise. But I continued to hear my name, long and kind of
exotic-sounding in her quiet voice, after shed disappeared into
the shadows.
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 17
18
This is a work of ction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the
product of the authors imagination or are used ctitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright 2011 by Tessa Gratton
Jacket art: photograph of trees Stephen Carroll Photography/Flickr/Getty Images;
photograph of girl Sara Haas/Flickr/Getty Images;
photograph reference for bird silhouettes by Erik Charlton
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Childrens Books,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/teens
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at
www.randomhouse.com/teachers
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Gratton, Tessa.
Blood magic / Tessa Gratton. 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: In Yaleylah, Missouri, teens Silla and Nick, drawn together by loss and a
shared family history of blood magic practitioners, are plunged into a world of dark
magic as they try to unravel the mystery of Sillas parents apparent murder suicide.
ISBN 978-0-375-86733-0 (trade) ISBN 978-0-375-96733-7 (lib. bdg.)
ISBN 978-0-375-89768-9 (ebook)
[1. SupernaturalFiction. 2. MagicFiction. 3. DeathFiction. 4. OrphansFiction.
5. Brothers and sistersFiction. 6. StepmothersFiction. 7. ImmortalityFiction.
8. Family lifeMissouriFiction. 9. MissouriFiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.G77215Blo 2011
[Fic]dc22 2010024997
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
Random House Childrens Books supports the
First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
ATTENTION READER: THIS IS AN UNCORRECTED
ADVANCE EXCERPT
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 18
N
a
t
a
l
i
e
C
.
P
a
r
k
e
r
T ESSA GRAT TONhas wanted
to be a paleontologist or a wizared since she was
seven. She was too impatient to hunt dinosaurs, but
is still searching for someone to teach her magic.
After traveling the world with her family, she
acquired a BA (and the important parts of an MA)
in Gender Studies, then settled down in Kansas
with her partner, her cats, and her mutant dog. You
can visit Tessa at TessaGratton.com.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
RH_BloodMagic_ChapSampl.qxp 3/1/11 2:46 PM Page 19