Book 12 Sweep ECLIPSE Page 14

  “No. What you did last night was not one hundred percent good, but certainly not one hundred percent bad. But on the whole it was much more good than bad. On the whole, you honored the Goddess much more than you dishonored her. And that’s sometimes as much as we can hope for.”

  “I wish I could see you,” I said, feeling his soothing words taking away some of my jagged edges. “But I’m a wreck, and I’m sure Mom wouldn’t let me out after I’ve been in bed all day.”

  “You just rest up,” Hunter said. “We can get together tomorrow. I’d like to get away from here, if possible—my da’s driving me mad. He’s going mental because I don’t want to have anything to do with the council anymore.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “I don’t trust them anymore. I can’t put my faith in them. I can’t do as they ask simply because they ask. I can’t turn to them for protection. Not only are they no use to me, they’ve actually been dangerous for me. And for you. And for Da, though he doesn’t see it that way.”

  “Can you quit being a Seeker? Is that allowed?”

  Hunter gave a short laugh. “It doesn’t happen frequently, that’s certain. I haven’t talked to anyone officially about it yet—Da’s still trying to talk me out of it. But in my heart I know this is what I want to do.”

  was stunned. Hunter’s dissatisfaction with the council had been building for a while, but it had never occurred to me that he would quit being a Seeker. It was what he was; it was a huge part of what defined him.

  “Whoa,” I said.“If you’re not a Seeker, what will you do?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve never done anything else, and no one besides the council needs a Seeker. I’ll have to think about it. But how do you feel about it, my quitting?”

  “I think you should do whatever you feel like you need to do,” I said. “You could do anything you want. I’ll help you do anything you want.”

  “Oh, Morgan, that means so much to me,” he said, sounding relieved. “You have no idea. If you’ll support me, I’ll take on anyone.” He paused. “They’re not going to want me to quit,” he explained.

  “I know. Let’s talk about it tomorrow, in person,” I said. “This could be good. This could be very exciting. I want to look toward the future instead of dreading everything in the present.”

  “I’m with you there,” Hunter said. “Now I guess I’ll go try to avoid Da. Goddess, fathers can be a pain in the arse.”

  “Yes, they can,” I said with dry irony.

  “See you tomorrow, my love.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Morgan, maybe you would feel better if you ate an actual breakfast,” said Mary K., sitting across from me at the kitchen table.

  I looked up, bleary-eyed. It was starting to seem that maybe I really did have the flu. I still felt awful, with bone-deep aches, a pounding headache, and lingering nausea. I had staggered down to the kitchen, grabbed a regular Coke for its medicinal properties, and now felt a tiny bit better.

  “It’s settling my stomach.”

  “There’s some oatmeal left. It’s got raisins in it.” Mary K. took a healthy bite of her banana and gave me a perky, bright-eyed look. That was how she was. She wasn’t even trying to be this way. This morning, even though she hadn’t taken a shower yet, she looked fresh and clean, with perfect skin and shiny hair. I hadn’t taken a shower, either, and I could scare small children.

  “No, thank you.Where are Mom and Dad?”

  “Dad’s downstairs, rebuilding his motherboard. Mom had to show some houses. And I am going to Jaycee’s, as soon as you give me a ride.” She gave me a simpering smile and batted her eyelashes at me, and I couldn’t help laughing.

  “Okay. Let me get a grip.”

  An hour later I dropped her at Jaycee’s house, then swung around and headed for Hunter’s. The shower had helped, and then I had taken three Tylenol. Now I’d had a second Coke and a piece of toast here in the car, and I hoped that something I’d done would start to help soon.

  It was better, though, walking up to Hunter’s front door without feeling like I had to be looking over my shoulder. I had no idea whether Amyranth would take up Ciaran’s cause, but I had the feeling that this had been a purely personal thing. I might not matter to them at all.

  The front door opened.“Hi,” said Hunter.

  I blinked when I saw him. “Do you still feel bad? You look awful.”

  He rubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw. Unlike the hair on his head, which was the color of sunlight, his beard was dark, and so was his chest hair. Which I was going to stop thinking about immediately.

  He shrugged and I went past him, automatically heading for the fireplace in the living room. I dropped my coat and sank onto the couch, stretching my feet toward the flames. The house smelled pleasantly smoky, clean. Fire has great purifying qualities.

  “I think I feel better than I did yesterday,” he said, sitting next to me so our legs touched. “Maybe it just takes a while. I’ve never been around a dark wave before, so I don’t know.”

  I leaned my head against his shoulder and shivered at the warmth I found there. “Maybe you haven’t drunk enough tea,” I said with a straight face.

  “Quite the wit, aren’t you?” He put his arms around me and we snuggled, taking comfort from being close.

  “Where’s your dad?” Please be out of the house. Please be gone all day.

  “Getting groceries. There’s nothing to eat because we’ve been kind of busy the last few days.”

  I pushed against Hunter’s shoulder so he would fall sideways. “Perfect.”

  “Good idea,” he said, sliding down and pulling me with him. Then we were lying on the couch, face-to-face, pressed together, and my entire back was toasting nicely from the fire.

  Simultaneously we both made happy sounds, then laughed at ourselves. I didn’t feel like making out, sadly enough, and neither did he, and instead we just held each other close, snuggling hard, feeling some of our aches disappear with the heat from each other’s body. Goddess, if I could just lie like this forever. Hunter’s hand stroked my back absently; our eyes were closed, and I had my arms around his waist, not even caring that one was getting smushed.

  “Thursday was so awful,” I murmured against his chest. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. No matter how much good I was doing, I still know I betrayed my father.And despite how bad he was, there was something in him that I felt I knew, something good, from long ago. That was the part of him I liked.”

  “I understand.” Hunter’s warm breath stirred my hair. “The only thing that will make you feel better is time. Give yourself time. I promise there will be a day when it doesn’t hurt so much.”

  I felt tears behind my eyelids but didn’t let them out. I was tired of crying, of being in pain. I wanted to lie here and feel safe and loved and warm.

  “Mmm,” I hummed, moving closer to him. “This feels so great. I needed this.”

  It wasn’t long until we felt Hunter’s father come home, and we sat up as if we had been discussing the weather the whole time. I’m sure Mr. Niall was fooled.

  Hunter helped him carry the groceries into the kitchen. When I saw Mr. Niall’s face, I thought he looked even older and grayer than usual, which was saying something. However, when he saw me, he actually nodded and said, “Hullo, Morgan. Hope you’re feeling better.” So he had softened up to me. Maybe I should write an article for a teen magazine about how to win over your boyfriend’s parents. But I guess most girls wouldn’t have my same setup.

  “What’s in here, Da?” Hunter said, his arms full. “This weighs a ton.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be so strong,” said Mr. Niall snidely, and my eyebrows went up.

  “I am strong; I just don’t know why they sell lead weights at the grocery store, that’s all.”

  Their bickering continued as they went into the kitchen, and it was still going on when they came out. I frowned, thinking. Then I glanced at the p
otted winter cactus by the window. It had been blooming last week. Now it was dead. My heart sank, and a cold feeling came over me. Oh, no. Oh, no. I stood up and went over to them, looking closely at their faces.

  “What, Morgan?” Hunter asked.

  “I—we all feel horrible.You guys are arguing.That plant is dead.” I was too upset to make sense, but it took them only a moment to get it.

  “Oh, Goddess,” Hunter breathed.

  “Of course.” Mr. Niall shook his head. “I knew something was wrong—I just couldn’t see what. But you’re right. I know you are.”

  Hunter muttered a word that I was never allowed to use. “Too right,” he said. “The dark wave is still coming. Either Ciaran cast it before he came to see you, or Amyranth is continuing his work without him.”

  “Call Alisa,” said Mr. Niall grimly.

  14- Alisa

  ><“I see one day when all witches everywhere are united in one common doctrine, one common cause. I see Woodbanes everywhere safe from prejudice. I see our detractors, our persecutors, our enemies, a threat no longer. I see one great clan, not seven, with all the members of that clan Woodbane brothers and sisters. This is my vision, the one I am working toward.”

  —X, an Amyranth leader, London, 2002><

  It seemed that every time I looked out a window, it was darker outside, more ominous. Mr. Niall had turned on the radio in the kitchen, and every once in a while we heard faint weather reports about a bad early-spring storm coming, how unusual it was. They joked about how it was March, still roaring in like a lion, ha-ha. It had all seemed so unreal. How could the world be going on as usual when I knew that mine might end at any minute?

  Concentrate, I told myself. Concentrate. Okay, third form: spell specifics.

  This was difficult—not as hard as the second part, but harder than the first or fourth. Facing east, I began to step in the carefully designed pattern that would help define and clarify this spell. Next to me, as if we were in pairs skating, Mr. Niall started the same motions.

  “Words,” Hunter muttered. He and Morgan were sitting on the floor, their backs against the wall. It had been almost six hours ago that Hunter had called me and told me the dark wave was still coming. Since then I had been struggling to understand: What? Coming? Now? It was hard to get my head around the dark wave again, and there almost wasn’t time, with all the practice we were doing. It was like a strange, nightmare day, like I would wake up any minute safe in my bed. But deep in my witch bones I knew that wouldn’t happen.

  Morgan had her head on her knees, as if she were too miserable to move. Hunter looked like he’d been run over by a truck. Mr. Niall had a washcloth, and he kept patting his forehead with it. He looked gray and clammy and had to sit down every few minutes.

  “Oh, right,” I said. I rubbed my aching temples with my hands and wished I had something to drink. “Nogac haill, bets carrein, hest farrill, mai nal nithrac, boc maigeer.” I said the ancient words, whose meanings I knew only very sketchily, as I stepped again in the pattern I’d been taught. My hands drew patterns of sigils and runes in the air as I described exactly what we needed this spell to do, how and when and why.The third part usually took about seventeen minutes if I did it properly.

  “No—arms up,” Mr. Niall croaked.

  His interruption broke my concentration; my foot faltered, and all at once I fell out of sync, with no idea of where I was supposed to be in the spell. I stared at my arms, which were not up, and then a wave of tiredness and nausea swept over me.

  “You’re doing great, Alisa,” said Hunter as I stood there dejectedly, rubbing my forehead. His voice sounded stiff and leaden, as if even talking made him feel worse. “It’s just an incredibly difficult spell. It would take me a solid month to learn it.”

  “Yeah, but you would understand what the hell you were doing and saying and why. I’m just memorizing it like a parrot.”

  “A talented parrot,” Morgan said, trying to smile.

  Mr. Niall slowly lowered himself to the wooden floor and curled up there with a moan. He looked like someone had taken all his stuffing out and returned the pelt. Of the four of us, he seemed the worst off. I glanced at Hunter and met his eyes: We both knew there was no way Daniel could even pretend to cast this spell himself. I’d been here three hours, and in that short time I’d watched as the three full blood witches visibly deteriorated. Even I was starting to feel pretty bad—my headache made it hard to concentrate, and my knees felt shaky.

  “I’ll go make tea,” said Morgan, and she carefully uncurled herself and went into the kitchen.

  Hunter got up to stand next to me.“It’s going to be up to you,” he said, so his father couldn’t hear, and I nodded, wishing I were in Florida and this were all their problem.

  “I know,” I whispered back. “But I’m not ready, Hunter—you know it. What if when the time comes, I can’t do it? I mean, I’m trying hard, but—” My voice wobbled and broke, and I wiped a hand across my stinging eyes. I refused to cry and look like a baby in front of him.

  Morgan came back with a tray of mugs. She knelt on the floor by Mr. Niall, sloshing the tea a bit. “Here,” she told him. “Drink this.”

  He pushed himself up with effort and stretched a bony hand toward the mug.“Ta, lass.”

  Hunter and I sat on the floor. I was incredibly thirsty and sucked down some of the hot, sweet tea. Morgan had put extra sugar and lemon in it, and it tasted great.

  “The wave is coming,” Hunter said baldly, and I saw Morgan flinch. “Alisa has done an amazing job of learning the spell as much as she can, but she’s not quite ready. No one could be.”

  “I’ll do it,” said Mr. Niall.

  “There’s no way you could do it, Da,” Hunter said. “You know it and I know it. The wave has already made you so weak, I’ll have to practically carry you to the car, anyway.”

  “You couldn’t carry—” Mr. Niall began, showing a spark of life.

  “Please.” Morgan held up her hand. “Could we not waste time? What are we going to do?”

  “I think I might have an idea,” Hunter said slowly.

  “This is going to feel terrible,” Hunter warned me. My hair was whipping around in the wind, as was Morgan’s. She quickly stuffed hers down the back of her coat, and I did the same. Here in the old Methodist cemetery the air felt weird, like it had an actual weight that was pressing down on us—humid but cold. We were standing before the power sink, listening as Hunter explained his big idea. Mr. Niall’s head was was bowed, and he was bent over on himself.

  “What do you call it again?” I asked.

  Hunter smiled wanly.“A tàth meànma.”

  I frowned, still confused. “And why can’t I just connect—or whatever—with Mr. Niall?”

  Hunter cast a glance at his father, who appeared to be in too much pain to be paying much attention. “Because my da isn’t strong enough,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t have enough power right now to connect with you and still stay a safe distance from the dark wave. Morgan has enough power for both of them, essentially, and she’ll be able to hold you two together.” He looked at me.“Make sense?”

  I nodded. “And, um . . . why will it hurt?” Not that it mattered.

  Morgan smiled weakly. “Before you do a tàth meànma like this, it’s best to do purification rituals, fast, drink herbal tea, and so on,” she explained. “For a little tàth meànma, it doesn’t matter so much. For one like this, it would have been better. It’s going to feel bad for me, too.” She made a pained expression.

  “Great.” I smiled wanly.“And where will you be?”

  “The field across the road, on the other side of the woods. I’ll be close enough to keep contact, but I hope not close enough to get hit.”

  A sudden sob rose in my throat and I pressed my lips together hard. Sure, we were going to try Hunter’s big idea, but in the end it was up to me, and I’m not hero material by any stretch of the imagination. I had worked as hard as I as I knew how, I would t
ry my best, but my best just might not be good enough.The truth was, if I didn’t come through, we had all gathered out here to die. I wouldn’t have to be a flower girl for Hilary after all.

  “Okay,” I said, trying to sound somewhat less terrified than I was.

  “And Daniel will be farther away than that, on the other side of Morgan,” Hunter explained. “He can keep in touch with Morgan, and Morgan will keep in touch with you, and we’ll do this thing. Right?”

  “Right,” I said, not meaning it. This was Hunter’s idea: I would still perform the spell, but my mind would be linked with Morgan’s. Her mind would be linked with Mr. Niall’s, and he would feed her lines if necessary that she could pass on to me. Hunter was going to stay here at the power sink with me, watching my movements and coaching me. He knew what to look for, even if he couldn’t do it himself.