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I am of Belwicket, I thought. I am a Riordan witch. The woods and the snow faded around me, to be replaced by green hills worn smooth by time and weather. A woman strode forward, a woman with a plain, work-lined face. Mackenna. She held out tools, witch's tools, and a young woman wearing a clover crown took them. Maeve. Then Maeve turned and handed them to me, and I saw my hand reaching out to take them. Holding them, I turned again and held them out to a tall, fair girl, whose hazel eyes held excitement, fear, and eagerness. My daughter, the one I would have one day. Her name echoed in my mind: Moira.
My chest swelled with awe. I knew it was time to let the power go. But what to do with it, where to direct this power that could uproot trees and make stones bleed? Should I turn it inward, keep it within myself for a time when I might need it? My very hands could be instruments of magick; my eyes could be lightning. No. I knew what to do. Planting my feet in the churned snow beneath me, I flung my arms outward again and came to a stop. "I send this power to you, Goddess!" I cried, my throat hoarse from chanting. "I send it to you in thanks and blessing! May you always send the power for good, like my mother, her mother, her mother before her, and on through the generations. Take this power: it is my gift to you, in thanks for all you have given me."
Suddenly I was in the vortex of a tornado. My breath was pulled from my lungs, so that I gasped and sank to my knees. The wind embraced me, so that I felt crushed within strong arms. And a huge clap of thunder rang in my ears, leaving me shaken and trembling in the silence that followed, my head bowed to the snow, my hair wet with perspiration.
I don't know how long I crouched there, humbled by the power I myself had raised. I had left this morning's Morgan behind, to be replaced by a new, stronger Morgan: a Morgan with a newfound faith and a truly awesome power, gifted by the Goddess herself.
Slowly my breathing steadied, slowly I felt the normal silence of the woods fill my ears. Both drained and at peace, I raised my head to see if the very balance of nature had shifted.
Before me sat Sky Eventide.
CHAPTER 15
Visions
February 2001
They have accepted me at last. I am the council's newset member—and its youngest, the most junior member of the third ring. I'm one of more than a thousand workers for Wiccan law. But my assigned role is that of Seeker, as I requested. I've been given my tools, the braigh and the books, and Kennet Muir has been assigned as my mentor. He and I have spent the past week going over my new duties.
Now I have been given my first task. There is a man in Cornwell who is accused of causing his neighbor's milk cows to sicken and die. I'm going down there today to investigate.
Athar has offered to come with me. I didn't tell her how glad I was of her offer, but I could see that she understood nonetheless. She is a good friend to me.
— Giomanach
Sky was perched on a snow-covered log about fifteen feet away from me. Her eyes were almond-shaped pools of black. She looked pale with cold and very still, as if she had been waiting a long time. Kicking in after the fact, my senses picked up on her presence.
She casually brushed off one knee, then clasped her gloved hands together.
"Who are you?" she said conversationally, her English accent as crisp and cool as the snow around us.
"Morgan," I was startled into replying.
"No. Who are you?" she repeated. "You're the most powerful witch I've ever seen. You're not some uninitiated student. You're a true power conduit. So who are you, and why are you here? And can you help me and my cousin?"
Suddenly I was chilled. Steam was coming off me in visible waves. My skin was damp and now turning clammy with sweat, and I felt vulnerable, naked beneath my robe.
Keeping one eye on Sky, I dismantled my circle swiftly and packed away my tools. Then I sat on the boulder and dressed, trying to act casual, as if getting dressed in front of a relative stranger in the woods was an everyday thing. Sky waited, her gaze focused on me. I folded Maeve's robe and put it back in my box, and then I turned to face Sky again.
"What do you want?" I demanded. "How long have you been spying on me?"
"Long enough to wonder who the hell you are," she said. "Are you really the daughter of Maeve of Belwicket?"
I met her eyes without responding.
"How old are you?"
A harmless question. "I just turned seventeen."
"Who have you been studying with?"
"You know who. Cal."
Her eyes narrowed. "Who else? Who before Cal?"
"No one," I said in surprise. "I only started learning about Wicca three months ago."
"This is impossible," she muttered. "How can you call on the Power? How can you use those tools without being destroyed?"
Suddenly I wanted to answer her, wanted to share with her what I had just experienced. "I just—the Power just comes to me. It wants to come to me. And the tools… are mine. They're for me to use. They want me to use them. They beckon me."
Sky sighed.
"Who are you?" I asked, thinking it was time she answered some questions herself. "I know you're Sky Eventide, you're from England, you're Hunter's cousin, and he calls you Athar." I thought back to what I had learned during the tath thing with Hunter. "You grew up together."
"Yes."
"What are you doing with Bree and Raven?" I demanded.
After a pause she said, "I don't trust you. I don't want to tell you things only to have you tell Cal and his mother."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why are you even here? How did you know where to find me? Why do you and Hunter keep spying on me?"
Conflicting emotions crossed Sky's face.
"I felt a big power draw," she said. "I came to see what it was. I was in my car, heading north, and suddenly I felt it."
"I don't trust you, either," I said flatly.
We looked at each other for long minutes, there in the woods. Sometimes I heard clumps of snow falling off branches or heard the quick flap of a bird's wings. But we were in our own private world, Sky and I, and I knew that whatever happened here would have far-reaching consequences.
"I'm teaching Bree, Raven, Thalia, and the others basic Wiccan tenets," Sky said stiffly. "If I've told them about the dark side, it was only for their protection."
"Why are you in America?"
She sighed again. "Hunter had to come here on council business. He told you he's been doing research about the dark wave, right? He's combining his research with his duties as a Seeker. I get worried about him—all our family does. He's treading on dangerous ground, and we didn't want something bad to happen to him. So I offered to keep him company."
Remembering what Hunter's council duties were, I felt my fists clench. "Why is he investigating Cal and Selene?"
Sky regarded me evenly. "The council suspects they've been misusing their powers."
"In what way?" I cried.
Her dark eyes gazed deeply into mine. "I can't tell you," she whispered. "Hunter believes you're not knowingly involved with their plan. He saw that when you two were in tath meanma. But I'm not so sure. Maybe you're so powerful that you can hide your mind from others."
"You can't believe that," I said.
"I don't know what to believe. I do know that I don't trust Cal and Selene, and I fear they're capable of more evil than you can imagine."
"Okay, you're pissing me off," I said.
"You need to face the facts. So we need to figure out the facts first. Hunter thinks Selene has a big plan that you're a key element of. What do you think they'll do to you if you don't want to be part of it?"
"Nothing. Cal loves me."
"Maybe he does," Sky said. "But he loves living more. And Selene would stop at nothing to have you— not even her own son."
I shook my head. "You're crazy."
"What does your heart tell you?" she asked softly. "What does your mind tell you?"
"That Cal loves me and accepts me and has made me happy," I said. "That I love h
im and would never help you hurt him."
She nodded thoughtfully. "I wish you could scry," she said. "If you could see them.."
"Scry?" I repeated.
"Yes. It's a somewhat precarious method of divination," Sky explained.
I nodded impatiently. "I know what it is. I scry with fire."
Her eyes opened so wide, I could see the whites around her black irises. "You don't." I just looked at her. Disbelieving, she said, "Not with fire." Not answering, I shrugged.
"Have you scryed to see what's happening in the present?"
I shook my head. "I just let the images come. It seems to be mostly the past, and sometimes I see possible futures."
"You can guide scrying, you know. You focus your energy on what you want to see. With water you'll see whatever your mind wants to see. A stone is the best, most accurate, but it offers less information. Do you think you could control scrying with fire?"
"I don't know," I said slowly, my mind already leaping with possibilities.
Ten minutes later I found myself in a situation I never could have dreamed up. Sky and I sat cross-legged, our knees touching, our hands on each other's shoulders. A small fire burned on a flat stone I had unearthed in the snow. It crackled and spat as the snow in the cracks of the burning branches boiled. I'd lit it with my mind, and had felt a stealthy surge of pride at the way Sky's eyes widened in shock.
Our foreheads touched; our faces were turned to the fire. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let myself drift into meditation. I tuned out the fact that my jeans were get-ting wet and my butt would probably never thaw again. I had never scryed while doing the Vulcan mind meld, but I was into trying it.
Gradually my breathing deepened and slowed, and sometime later I sensed that Sky and I were breathing in unison. Without opening my eyes I reached out to touch her mind, finding the same suspicious brick wall that I had with Hunter. I pushed against it, and I felt her reluctance and then her slow acceptance. Cautiously she let me into her mind, and I went slowly, ready to pull out if this was a trap, if she tried to attack. She was feeling the same fear, and we paused instinctively until we both decided to let down our guards.
It wasn't easy. She had always rubbed me the wrong way, and she just about hated me. Surprisingly, it hurt to see the depth of her dislike for me, the rage she felt over what I had done to Hunter, her suspicion of my powers and their possible sources. I didn't realize witches could transfer their powers to another until I saw her worry that Selene had done this to me.
We breathed together, locked in a mental embrace, looking deeply into each other. She loved Hunter dearly and was very afraid for his safety. She missed England and her mother and father terribly. In her mind I saw Alwyn, Hunter's younger sister, who looked nothing like him. I saw her memory of Linden, how beautiful he had been, how tragic his death was.
Sky was in love with Raven.
What? I followed that elusive thought, and then it was there, in the forefront, clear and complete. Sky was in love with Raven. Through Sky's eyes I saw Raven's humor, her strength, her gutsiness, her determination to study Wicca. I felt Sky's frustration and jealousy as Raven chased Matt and flirted with others and had no reaction to Sky's tentative overtures. To Sky, slender, blond, restrained English Sky, Raven was almost unbearably lush and sexy. The bold way she spoke, her vivid appearance, her brash attitude all fascinated Sky, and Sky wanted her with a frank desire that took me aback and almost embarrassed me.
Then Sky was leading me, asking questions about Cal. Together we saw my love for him, my humiliating relief that someone finally wanted me, my awe at his beauty and respect for his power. She saw my uncertainty about and fascination with Selene and my discomfort about Cal's seomar. As Hunter had, she saw that Cal and I hadn't made love yet. She saw that Hunter had almost kissed me, and she nearly broke off contact in surprise. I felt like she was paging through my private diary and began to wish I'd never agreed to this. My mind told Sky I had been shocked to find out I was Woodbane and extra shocked just four days ago to learn Cal was Woodbane also.
Now, together, she thought, and I opened my eyes. After looking at each other for a moment, weighing what we had learned, we turned, staying connected, and looked into the fire.
Fire, element of life, Sky thought, and I heard her. Help us see Cal Blaire and Selene Belltower as they are, not as they show themselves to us.
Are you ready to see? I heard the fire whisper back to us seductively. Are you ready, little ones?
We are ready, I thought, swallowing hard. We are ready, Sky echoed.
Then, as it had for me in the past, the fire created images that drew us in. I felt Sky's awe and joy: she had never served with fire before. She strengthened her mind and concentrated on seeing the here and now, seeing Cal and Selene. I followed her example and focused on that also.
Cal, I thought. Selene. Where are you?
An image of Cal's huge stone house formed within the flames. I remembered how I could never project my senses through its walls and wondered if that applied to scrying. It didn't. The next time I blinked, I found myself in Selene's circle room, the huge parlor where she regularly held her coven's circles. It had once been a ballroom and now seemed like a grand hall of magick. Selene was there, in her yellow witch's robe, and I recognized Cal's dark head standing out from a group of people I didn't recognize.
"Do we really need her?" a tall, gray-haired woman with almost colorless eyes asked.
"She's too powerful to let go," said Selene.
An icy trickle down my back told me they were speaking of me.
"She's from Belwicket,"a slender man pointed out.
"Belwicket is gone," Selene said. "She'll be from anywhere we want her to be." Oh, God, I thought.
"Why haven't you brought her to us?" asked the gray-haired woman.
Selene and Cal met eyes, and to me it felt like they fought a silent battle.
"She'll come," said Cal in a strong voice, and inside me I felt a piercing pain, as if my heart were being rent. "But you don't understand—"
"We understand that it's past time for action," another woman said. "We need this girl on our side now, and we need to move on Harnach before Yule. You had an assignment, Sgath. Are you saying you can't bring her to us?"
"It will be done," said Selene in a voice like marble. Again her gaze seared Cal, and his jaw set. He gave an abrupt nod and left the room, graceful in his heavy white linen robe.
I can't see anymore, I thought, and then I said the words aloud. "I can't see anymore."
I felt Sky pulling back as I did, and I shut my eyes and deliberately came back to the snowy woods and this moment. Opening my eyes, I looked up to see that the sky was darkening with late afternoon, that my jeans were soaked through and miserably uncomfortable, that the trees that had made a circle of protection around me now seemed black and threatening.
Sky's hands slid off my shoulders. "I've never done that," she said in a voice just above a whisper. "I've never been good at scrying. It's—awful."
"Yes," I said. I looked into her black eyes, reliving what I had just seen, hearing Selene's words again. Shakily I uncoiled and stood, my leg muscles cramped, my butt beyond feeling, and an unsettling feeling of nausea in my stomach. As Sky stood, stretching and groaning under her breath, I knelt and scooped up some clean snow, putting it in my mouth. I let it melt and swallowed the cold trickle of water. I did this again, then rubbed snow on my forehead and on the back of my neck under my hair. My breath was shallow, and I felt shaky, flooded with fear.
"Feel ill?" Sky asked, and I nodded, eating more snow.
I stayed on all fours, melting small mouthfuls of snow while my brain worked furiously, trying to process what we had seen. When Bree and I had fought over Cal and I had realized that we were no longer friends after eleven years, it had been shockingly painful. The sense of betrayal, of loss, of vulnerability had been almost unbearable. Compared to what I was feeling now, it had been a walk in the park. Inside, m
y mind screamed, No, no, no!
"Were those images true?" I choked out.
"I think so," Sky said, sounding troubled. "You heard them mention Harnach? That's the name of a Scottish coven. The council sent Hunter here to investigate evidence that Selene is part of a Woodbane conspiracy that's trying, basically, to destroy non-Woodbane covens."
"She's not the dark wave?" I cried. "Did she destroy Belwicket?"
Sky shrugged. "They don't see how she could have. But she's been linked to other disasters, other deaths," she said, hammering my soul with each word. "She's been moving around all her life, finding new Woodbanes wherever she goes. She makes new covens and ferrets out blood witches. When the coven is solid, she breaks it up, destroying the non-Woodbane witches and taking the Woodbanes with her."
"Oh my God," I breathed. "She's killed people?"
"They believe so," Sky said.
"Cal?" I said brokenly.
"He's been helping her since he was initiated." This was all too much for me to take in. I felt frantic.
"I have to go," I said, looking around for my tools. It was now almost dark. I grabbed Maeve's box and shook some of the snow off my boots.
"Morgan—" Sky began.
"I have to go," I said, more strongly.
"Morgan?" she called as I took the first step into the woods. I turned back to look at her, standing alone in the clearing. "Be careful," she said. "Call me or Hunter if you need help."
Nodding, I turned again and made my way back to my car. Inside, my heart began screaming again: No, no, no
CHAPTER 16
Truth
I've always wondered if my mother killed my father. After all, he left her, not the other way around. And then he had two more kids right away with Fiona. That really freaked mom out.
Dad «disappeared» when I was almost nine. Not that I'd seen anything of him before that. I was the forgotten son, the one who didn't matter.
When mom got the phone call, she just told me that Dad and Fiona had vanished. She didn't say anything about them being dead. But as the years have worn on and on no one's heard from him—that I know about, anyway—it seems safe to assume he's dead. Which is convenient, in a way. It means Giomanach doesn't have Dad's power behind him. But still, I wish I knew what really happened….