Coal to Diamonds Read Online Free

about circumcision, tattooing, scarring, and worse. Transformation needed sacrifice of something to gain something else. Blood was the ink that marked the moment when childhood ended. Blood, though Cam and Bobby shied from it, held more power than any substance Cole knew.
    Exactly one week after Bobby, Cam, and Cole became men together, lightning struck the oak. There had been no moon that night. The catastrophic bolt toppled the tree house and split the trunk down the middle, exposing the dark heartwood. Bobby’s father’s station wagon had been crushed and the shingle roof of the home pierced by a branch. One by one, without discussing it, the young men had each gone to the yard and taken away a bit of the charred wood. Concentrated within the fibers was all of their magic, their love, their innocence, and memory. None of them was willing to lose it completely.
    Bobby, who loved to hike, fashioned himself a walking stick. Cam carved a charm to wear close to his heart. Cole, tutored by fantasy novels, made for himself a real wand, slender and as ornate as his carving skills allowed, covered in sigils that spelled their names in the secret alphabet they’d cobbled together from Angelic script, Theban, and Tolkien’s Elvish. It had three dark spots on the handle, and Cole liked to think each was a drop of their blood, but that was impossible since the wood had come from the core of the tree.
    Still, the timber had absorbed much of their essences. During the ten years they were separated, Cole on occasion stroked the dark stick and recovered a little of his friends: the phantom pressure of Bobby’s hands on his shoulders, or the ghost of Cam’s musical laughter. When they’d met again six months ago, he’d been delighted to find Bobby and Cam had kept their wands. Now, each man stood holding his own piece of boyhood and enchantment, pointing it at the modest cabin. Cole let his mind slip. He began walking, letting the words that formed in his mind spiral from his lips, uncomprehended. After three trips, he lost the perception of placing one foot in front of the other, lost the cold on his skin and the warm oiliness of the wood against his palm. He was only aware of the gathering energy that swirled around the cabin, stronger and stronger. It pulled their bodies in its wake like leaves caught in a whirlpool.
    Then the sky broke open. Icy rain in tablespoon-sized drops pelted their bare bodies. It came so thickly that the individual droplets soon formed sheets of frigid water. It didn’t fall, but was hurled from the dark clouds with such force that it hurt. The rain on the slate roof sounded like machine-gun fire. Branches and bracken bent under its assault. Cam shielded his head with his forearms, and even rugged Bobby slouched. The ground turned instantly to chilly, dark ooze that covered their toes. Cole thought that this must be what it felt like to be stoned to death; the water hit as sharp and solid against his body as flung rocks. It was all he could do to remain standing.
    “Six more times!” he yelled over his shoulder. “We’ve got to keep going.” The weight of the water felt like it was driving him into the ground. He became so cold his body felt brittle. How could anything be so frigid and remain liquid?
    “He sent it,” Cam shouted, the rain blurring his words into static. “Thorn!”
    The first piece of hail hit Cole high on his cheekbone, drawing blood. The bitter-cold mud, up to his ankles now, numbed his feet and made walking difficult. Two more pellets hit the top of his head hard enough to make him see stars. “Three more times. Concentrate! We can’t—” Another piece of ice bruised his face. He heard Bobby slip, land in the muck with a splash, swear, and struggle back to his feet with the aid of his stick. Cam whimpered.
    Cole turned to face his friends. He could barely see them through the curtains of rain, though they stood only a few feet away. Liquid splashing off their skin outlined