“I told the cops he was stalking me when they arrived with the medic unit.” I stared at the layout for another moment, then said, “All right. I need a spell that shatters the effect my glamour has on him.” I snorted. “I’m so not a glamour girl, so it feels weird to talk about this.”
“You may not think you are, but there’s a difference between creating glamour and wearing it like a second skin.” Marilee swept up the cards and put the deck back into the velvet bag. “I’ll work on a spell tomorrow for this. If we can cast it before he gets out of the hospital, so much the better.”
A weight fell off my shoulders as I forced a smile to my lips. “Well, that’s one problem down. Now, my next question regarding my Leannan Sidhe side is one that makes me cringe. Do you think that Herne was caught by my…glamour as well? Do you think that he’s in love with me because of it? He says he can’t forget me. That he thinks about me all the time.”
Marilee reached across the table and patted my hand. “No, dear one. Herne can’t be affected by glamour like that. He’s a demigod and they’re immune to most charms, except the charm that grows in the heart when you truly fall in love with someone.”
I stared at her for a moment, then burst into tears. “Thank the gods for that.”
She handed me a tissue. “Here, blow your nose. I’ll get you some water and a little something to eat. I know you ate before you came, but the emotional toll of what you’ve been dealing with the past couple days saps a lot of energy. You need to be strong for tonight.” She vanished out of the ritual room, returning in a moment with a bowl of fruit salad, a piece of cheese, and a bottle of cold water.
Feeling coddled—and grateful for it—I ate the fruit and cheese and drank the entire bottle. When I finished, I sat back.
“I suppose there’s no getting away from it. I’m almost afraid to meet my father’s blood. When I was out in the forest with Viktor yesterday, I noticed something different. I felt hyper-alert, as though I could hear and sense things differently. I wonder if that’s part of the Cruharach?”
“Most likely, given your bloodline. Let me draw the circle. Go to the bathroom if you need to now, while I prepare for the ritual.”
I obeyed, heading to the bathroom. Something was lurking on the outskirts of my consciousness. The Cruharach, no doubt, approaching.
I stared at my reflection. “Who will I be when this is all said and done with?” But I had no answer, only more questions. Finally, I returned to the ritual room where Marilee was waiting.
She had drawn a circle on the floor in salt, but this time there was no bowl of water on the table, no Veni-noir to taste my blood.
“What do I do?”
“Since we’ve already been through the first part of the ritual, this time you lay down in that circle and I simply give you the compound to send you deep into your subconscious. You’ve already met the Leannan Sidhe, and she’s integrating into your psyche with each passing day. Today, the Autumn Stalker side will arise. I honestly don’t expect as much difficulty as we had from the Leannan Sidhe. Members of Autumn’s Bane might be ruthless, but they’re generally more reasonable and they don’t usually attack unless they’ve already decided on a raiding party.” She held up a bottle that I recognized.
“Should I stick out my tongue, or get into the Circle first?”
“Get inside the Circle so I can seal it, please.”
I handed over my phone. Electronics didn’t fare well inside the Circle. Then, lying down, I spread my arms and legs wide to form the five points of the pentacle. She waited till I was ready, then sprinkled a ring of frankincense atop the circle of salt, and then a ring of powdered iron that made my body tingle and pulse. The iron would keep me within the circle, and would keep her safe should the Autumn Stalker blood prove too strong. As she whispered an incantation, I felt the barrier strengthen and the pulsing grew stronger. If I tried to leave the circle now, I’d be severely burned.
“Stick out your tongue,” she said, placing the bowls on the table and returning with the tincture.
I obeyed. At least this time I knew what to expect. As three drops of the sweet, spicy liquid hit my tongue, I felt a sudden wash of energy roll through me.
“I think it’s acting quicker than the first time.”
“Yes, that’s not surprising. This time probably won’t be as hard on you, given you’ve already been through it once, but it’s difficult to predict. Just take a deep breath and let it out slow and close your eyes.”
Her voice was reassuring, and she was right. This time I was better prepared for what was about to happen, and I didn’t feel as much apprehension. I wasn’t expecting it to be a walk in the park, but somehow, this felt different. I felt like I had a little more control over the situation, and even if that was an illusion, it gave me confidence.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the tincture to take hold. A moment later, everything around me began to pulse and I realized that it was working. This time, I didn’t try to talk or sit up, and when my tongue felt odd and thick, I didn’t panic. I was breathing fine, drifting on a sea of sensation.
As the energy began to thicken, instead of feeling swept out into the ocean, this time I was walking in a forest, deeper and deeper into woodland. The trees seemed to tower hundreds of feet over my head, and all around me, I could hear and sense the motion of the woodland. Here—a fox racing beneath the undergrowth. Over there—the lazy drone of a bumblebee, out on a last late autumn hunt for pollen. The scurry of beetles beneath the bark of a tree caught my attention, and the sounds of a spider spinning her web from branch to branch in a cedar echoed through my mind. Everywhere I turned, the scents and sounds of the living forest were overwhelming.
Pungent earth, veined with mildew from the molding leaves that carpeted the ground…the astringent smell of rainwater dripping from fir needles, plummeting down to the earth, drop by drop…the smells of chimney smoke caught on the wind…that charred electrical smell that filled the air before a thunderstorm...
I was assailed from all sides by the perfume of autumn and it overwhelmed me, sending me reeling. As I tried to steady myself, the cawing of crows echoed overhead, then all around me as the great birds landed in the trees, watching me closely. I stared up at them, both afraid and yet pulled to them. Their glittering eyes followed me as I took a step along the path, and then I saw that they lined the trail, like spectators at a parade. They were waiting for me to pass through them, a crackling tension echoing in the sound of their caws. I caught my breath, suddenly afraid they might swoop down and peck out my eyes. Or rip at my skin.
Then, as I started along the trail, I saw someone walking toward me and I realized that it was my father’s bloodline, the part of myself that echoed the Dark Fae. Just as I had faced my Leannan Sidhe self, I had to face the Autumn Stalker within. Taking a deep breath, I began to pass through the line of crows guarding the way.
As I approached the woman I could see that she, too, looked just like me, except she was silent, making almost no sound as she walked. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid, and she wore an outfit that blended into the forest—woodland camouflage. She had a bow over one shoulder, and a long dagger by her side. She stopped, holding out her hands.
“You’ve been here before,” she said.
I nodded. “Only with my mother’s blood.”
“Are you willing to brave the forest? Are you willing to run with the Hunt?” She was daring me, taunting me.
I felt a pull toward her that was stronger than the pull had been from my Leannan Sidhe nature. Reaching out, I grabbed her hand, holding tight. She laughed, then turned and—still holding my hand—began to run through the forest. Exhilarated, I let her drag me along.
We raced at a speed that defied my ability to run, but the blood pumped in my veins and I felt compelled to follow. We headed off path, and she led me up an embankment, and at the top of the ravine, I realized we were on the edge of a clearing, but I couldn’t se
e what was ahead for the fog had risen thick around us and the path was obscured.
She turned to me, shoving me forward. “Walk into the mist.”
I studied the roiling plumes of white vapor. They curled and coiled, beckoning me to enter. There was something in there, I could feel it, huge and terrifying. Yet I longed to find out what it was. I glanced back at my companion, hesitating.
“Will you come with me?”
“Every time you enter the woodland, I’m there. Every time you plunge into the mist, I’m shadowing your back.” She reached out her hand toward me. “Do you choose to enter the fog with me?”
Hesitating, I stared at her hand. If I accepted her offer, I would be letting her in.
Slowly, I placed my fingers in hers, and we walked toward the wall of fog. As we approached the coiling plumes, she turned to me and then, without a word, she pulled me toward her. I closed my eyes as she engulfed me in her embrace.
Our energies began to merge, our bodies superimposed one over one another. Her essence entered my heart to mingle with my own nature. But she didn’t feel alien or “other.” She felt like me, and right then, I realized that I knew her. I had always known her. She had saved me on more than one occasion, guiding me with her intuition, her drive, and her knowledge. I let go of resistance and closed my eyes. And she became me, and I became her, as I finally acknowledged her existence.
THE AUTUMN LEAVES crunched under my feet. I could feel the tang of the season biting deep as I breathed in a deep lungful of air. All around me, the noises of the forest set up a racket, and before long, a symphony of grunts and clicks and whistles and low growls reverberated in the background. I was alone, unable to see through the wall of mist that surrounded me, but with every footstep, I knew that this was a side of me that I couldn’t deny—that I needed. Strength flowed through my veins, and the desire rose to hunt and seek, to pounce and claim for my own.
Ahead, the mists began to thin as the darkened shadows of the wood took hold. Something was coming my way on the trail and I darted out of sight, hiding behind a nearby tree. I fumbled with my bow, nocking an arrow as I waited. An unusual patience flowed through my veins, and even as I fought against it—wanting to jump out to see what was coming—I forced myself to wait, silent and unseen. The quarry would come to me, I would not go to the quarry.
After a time, instinct bade me to peek out from the tree. There, on the path, was the most beautiful deer I had ever seen. Beautiful and statuesque, he had a rack that spanned ten tines. Instinctively, I brought up my bow and then stared at my hands, horrified. An inner voice whispered, “Shoot. You must complete the hunt.”
I can’t kill this magnificent creature.
You must. You’re hungry, and you must feed your family. If you don’t, they will starve.
But he’s too lovely. He’s too alive and vibrant.
Either take him down, or go home and watch your children starve.
I warred with myself as I waited…as the stag waited. I knew where my food came from, I had never denied that. But I had never killed a beast that meant me no harm, that was just wandering by, minding his own business.
Then, the stag caught sight of me. He stared into my eyes and I gazed back. And within his gaze, I saw the life cycle complete itself—the chain that wove through every layer of life on the planet. Regardless of what we ate, we killed to survive. Every creature did this. Every creature hungered and sought food to assuage the pangs of its belly. Every creature ate to survive, and in doing so, something else had to die. Even the lowest one-celled creature fed on something that had once been alive.
Trees absorbed nutrients out of the soil, but those nutrients had to come from somewhere. And they came from decomposing material that the Mother absorbed back into herself. So the trees ate from the death of both plants and animals. We ate the fruit of those trees, and the flesh of animals. Animals fed on other animals, or on berries or leaves. It was one grand magnificent chain—an orgy of killing to feast, and then dying to feed others.
All of this synergistic wonder filled my heart as I watched the stag. He waited as I raised my bow, aiming true. The arrow flew, singing its way through the air to land in the stag’s heart and I cheered as he bellowed out, then went down. I ran forward, crying and laughing as I knelt beside him. Our gazes met again, and this time, I felt deeply humbled. I had taken his life. I owed it to him to honor his remains. To eat of his flesh, to make certain his death wasn’t wasted.
As I pressed my head to his chest, listening to his last gasps, standing witness to the transition from life to death, I felt a warmth on my face. I realized I was crying. I was crying for the stag, and I was crying for all those who had died from starvation, from the breakdown of the cycle. Another moment, and the stag was dead, and I was back in the room with Marilee.
Chapter 8
MARILEE WAS WATCHING me as I sat up. Last time, I had tried to threaten her, but this time, I just felt an odd sense of calm washing over me. I didn’t feel like something had taken over my body, and I didn’t feel like I was fighting for control. I glanced up at my teacher.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“Is that all? What more do you want? A marching band?” Her eyes were sparkling and she looked delighted.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” I felt a little crotchety. Her response wasn’t the one I had been expecting. “Shouldn’t there be…a struggle or something? Last time, my Leannan Sidhe side tried to jump out of the Circle at you.”
“Last time was last time. This time is different. I told you, the Autumn Stalkers are more reasonable to deal with than the Leannan Sidhe, even if they’re ruthless when they’re on the hunt. How do you feel?”
I frowned, searching for exactly what I was feeling. I bit my lip, trying to decide if everything was okay or if I was still under the effects of the tincture. But there seemed to be no division—the image of my hunter self felt very much a part of me. And, when I reached for the Leannan Sidhe, she too seemed to be quietly resting, a part of myself who was waiting for me to lead.
“I’m confused. I’ve felt in a turmoil since the last ritual but now I feel so calm. It’s like…”
“Like you’re one person instead of three?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s the way to put it. I feel like I’ve settled down. Is this it?” I asked, suddenly hopeful. “Did I just pass through the Cruharach?”
Marilee laughed then, and fetched the broom to sweep a gate in the Circle so I could pass through without getting hurt. “Not at all. But now you are ready to face the Cruharach. You’ve met both sides of your bloodline and they seem to be integrating into you. It’s like…you can’t take the test without processing the homework. These rituals have been your homework. There will be more to come, but facing your heritage and allowing it to take its rightful place? That’s vital to pass through the Cruharach without dying.”
“Oh.” My hope deflated. I had hoped perhaps this was it, boom—everything was good to go. “So, when do I go through the final phase?”
“One step at a time. I need to assess which side of your heritage is dominant. Cernunnos and Morgana will want that information. They’ll be the ones leading you through the final ritual. Morgana told me that last time she contacted me.” At my petulant frown, Marilee laughed and shook her head. “Students. No matter how advanced they are, no matter how much props you give them, they always want more. Or at least, hope for it. You’re doing fine, Ember. I’m pleased with your progress.”
Trying to put aside my disappointment, I rubbed my head as I stood up, dusting myself off. I stepped outside the Circle and sat down in one of the chairs by the table.
“So, can we find that out tonight? Which side of me will be the more dominant?”
Marilee nodded. “It will take a little time to be certain, but I can venture a guess. The side that integrates more seamlessly is almost always the side that takes dominance. And that has everything
to do with the nature you were born with. I’m going to say that your Autumn Stalker side will come out on top. That doesn’t mean you’re rejecting your mother’s blood, but that your father’s blood matches your own personality better than your mother’s.”
I thought about it for a moment. “Then, if that does turn out to be true, I’m relieved. As much as I loved my mother, her nature frightens me more.”
“I think you’re both wise, and lucky,” Marilee said.
NEXT MORNING, I was up before the sun. Even though I had dropped exhausted into bed after my meeting with Marilee, I slept like the dead and woke at five-thirty. Usually, Angel and I got up at seven, to get to work by eight. I sat up, yawning, rubbing my eyes. Mr. R. gave me a lazy look from the bottom of the bed, eyeing me accusatorily.
“Yes, I woke you up, you giant furball. Go back to sleep if you want. I’m not going to make you move.” I hopped out of bed, yawning again, and slid my feet into my new slippers. I padded over to the window and opened it, feeling the blast of chill air race in through the screen. Shivering, I grabbed on my robe and closed my eyes, filling my lungs with the scents of early morning mist and dew. After a moment, I closed the window and headed downstairs.
By the back door, I stopped to change into a pair of boat shoes, then headed out into the side yard, aiming for the gardens. The second lot that came with my house was separated from the house by a gate, and the lot was completely fenced in. Yutani and Viktor had built a matching fence around the rest of the property for us.
As I wandered into the gardens, trying to avoid the mud puddles, I saw a crow ahead on a post and the crow necklace I never took off vibrated against my throat. It had been a gift from Morgana, a symbol that I belonged to her. I reached up, touching the silver pendant, and slowly walked toward the crow. Crows and ravens weren’t the same, but they were related, that much I knew. And this crow was eying me cautiously.
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