Seeker s-10

by Cate Tiernan

  “Help me?” I laughed dryly. “When have I ever mattered enough for you to want to help? I know I’m nothing to you. The only good thing about me is that I’m half Mum.”

  Silence dropped over the room like a curtain. My father was so still and quiet that I turned over to see if he was still there. He was. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at me, a stunned, confused expression on his face. “You are,” he whispered. “You are half Fiona. You, and Alwyn both. Fiona lives on in you.”

  I sighed. “Forget it, Da. I’m not going to hassle you anymore. I’m giving up.”

  “Wait, Hunter,” he said, using my common name. “I know you won’t believe this, but you, Linden, and Alwyn were the most precious things in my life, after your mother. You three were our love personified. In you I saw my strength, my stubbornness, my wall of reserve. But I also saw your mother’s capacity for joy, her ability to love deeply and give freely. I had forgotten all that. Until just now.”

  I rolled over to face him. He looked old, beaten, but there was something about him, as if he’d been infused with new blood. I felt a more alive sense coming from him.

  “I liked being a father, Gìomanach,” he said, looking at his hands resting on his knees. “I know it may not have seemed like it. I didn’t want to spoil you, make you soft. My job was to teach you. Your mother’s job was to nurture you. But I was happy being a father. I failed Cal and left him to be poisoned by Selene. You and your brother and sister were my chance to make that up. But then I left you, too. Not a day has gone by since then that I haven’t regretted not being there to watch my children grow up, see your initiations. I missed you.” He gave a short laugh. “You were a bright lad, a bulldog, like I said. You were fast to catch on, but you had a spark of fire in you. Remember that poor cat you spelled to make the other kids laugh? I was angry, you misusing magick like that. But that night, telling Fiona about it, I could hardly stop laughing. That poor cat, batting the air.” Another tiny chuckle escaped, and I stared at him. Was this my father?

  “Anyway,” Da said. “I’m sorry, son. I’m a disappointment to you. I know that. That’s bitter to me. But this seems to be where my life has brought me. This is the spell I’ve written.”

  “Maybe so, up till now,” I said, sitting up and swinging my feet to the floor. “But you can change. You have that power. The spell isn’t finished yet.”

  He shook his head once, then shrugged. “I’m sorry. I’ve always been sorry. But—you make me want to try.” These last words were said so softly, I could hardly hear them.

  “I want you to try, too, Da,” I said. “That’s why I’m so disappointed today.” I gestured at the circles, smudged on the floor, the salt crunching underfoot.

  “I really was trying to help you,” he said. “I didn’t trust Justine. How is she acquiring the true names of living beings? Of people?”

  I frowned. “She told me she inherited some of them from her mother. Others she found by accident. Two names have been contributed by their owners, in the interest of her research.”

  “Maybe so,” said Da, not sounding convinced. “But she also gets a lot from the shadow world.”

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t contacting Fiona this time,” Da explained. “I have no wish to harm her further. But the shadow world does have its uses. One of them is that people on the other side have access to knowledge that not many can get otherwise.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, afraid of where this was going.

  “Justine acquires many of the true names of living beings, including people, from sources in the shadow world,” Da explained.

  I blinked. “How do you know this?”

  “Sources in the shadow world. Reliable sources.”

  I was quiet for several minutes, thinking it all through. Obviously if Da’s sources were correct, I had to come up with a whole new game plan. The situation had developed a new weight, a new seriousness that would require all my skill as a Seeker. Da had gotten this information for me. He had risked his own health—not to mention the irresistible temptation of calling my mother—in order to help me in this case.

  Finally I looked up. “Hmmm.”

  Da examined my face. “I have—a gift for you. To help you.”

  “Oh?”

  He went to the room’s small desk and took out a sheet of paper. With slow, deliberate gestures he wrote a rune in the center of the paper. Then, concentrating, he surrounded the rune with seven different symbols—an ancient form of musical notes, sigils denoting color and tone, and the odd, primitive punctuation that was used in one circumstance only. Da was writing a true name. At the end he put the symbol that identified the name as belonging to a human.

  I read it, mentally transcribing it as I had been taught, hearing the tones in my mind, seeing the colors. It was a beautiful name, strong. Glancing up, I met Da’s eyes.

  “She is more dangerous than she seems. You may need this.”

  The paper in my hand felt on fire. In my life, I had known only five true names of people. One was mine, three belonged to witches whose powers I had stripped, doing my duty as a Seeker, and now this one. It was a huge, huge thing, a powerful thing. My father had done this for me.

  “I have an idea,” I said, feeling like I was about to throw myself into a river’s racing current. “I think you need to get away from Saint Jérôme du Lac—far away. It has bad memories for you. Not only that, but Canada is too bloody cold. You need to start fresh. I think you should come back to Widow’s Vale with me. Sky and I have room, and I know she’d be glad to have you. Or we could get you your own place. You could be around other witches, be back in society. You need to rejoin the living, no matter how much you don’t think you want to.”

  For a long time Da sat looking at a blank spot on the wall. I prayed that he had heard me because I didn’t think I’d be able to repeat the offer.

  But at last my father’s dry croak of a voice said, “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know how long I can resist the pull of the bith dearc. I don’t want to hurt your mother anymore. I can’t. But I need help.”

  I was amazed and wondered what I had just gotten myself into. I would have to deal with it as it came. “Right, then,” I said. “We’ll leave tomorrow, after I clear up a few matters with Justine Courceau.” I looked again at the true name and memorized it. “We’ll stop in Saint Jérôme du Lac, get what you need from the cabin, and be in Quebec City by nightfall.”

  My father nodded and lay down on his bed with the stiff, jerky movements of an old man.

  13. Confrontation

  It isn't often that someone truly surprises me, but Hunter did this morning. First he surprised me with that ridiculous report to the council and then by running off like a scared rabbit after I kissed him. I don't understand him at all. I know he wants me, too-all week he's been looking at me like a lovesick puppy, whether he realized it or not. Did he run just because he's a Seeker and I'm the one being investigated? Granted, I'm sure there are protocols in place; I'm sure it would be frowned upon. But according to whom? The stupid council! I don't acknowledge their dominion over me, so why should they stop me from having Hunter? And I absolutely want to have him. He's so compelling, such a portrait of contrasts. He looks young, but acts much older. There's a world-weary air about him, as if he's seen it all and hasn't been able to forget enough of it. And theres that intriguing scar on his neck, almost like a burn. I want to know the story behind it.

  He seems reserved, but he's funny, passionate about what he believes in, a worthy adversary, and an equal. He has deep, smouldering sensuality behind his eyes. I want to see those embers ignite. The one problem is his devotion to the council-was I just imagining it, or is that devotion wavering? Given his age, he can't have been a Seeker long. I'm sure it's not too late to show him what the council really is, how insidious they are, how poisonous. In my family alone they've stripped three women of their powers-and that's just within the last fifty years. They're threat
ened by anyone and anything, and they retaliate far out of proportion. If Hunter understood that, he wouldn't want any part of it.

  Hunter. He'll be back. He's not the type to leave unfinished business. I want him in a way I haven't wanted a man before. I want him in my bed, in my life, in my magick. Think of it-two strong blood witches, accumulation so much pure, beautiful knowledge. And using it, only occasionally, to strike down those who have wronged us.

  — J.C.

  The next morning, after our last breakfast at the B and B, Da and I pulled up to Justine’s stone cottage. Our bags were packed and in the boot of the car; by this afternoon Da and I would be back at his cabin, getting ready to leave for the States. I felt a strong sense of reluctance, and the true name I’d memorized seemed to burn in my mind.

  This would probably be the last time I would ever see Justine Courceau. Which was fine. But I had to clear up the matter of the kiss, and more importantly, I had to witness her destroying the list of true names. Which meant first I had to convince her to do it. I had never met a witch who so openly defied the council—even Ciaran MacEwan, evil though he was, acknowledged that the council had legitimate power.

  “Right, then, show time,” I said, starting to open my door.

  “Hunter,” said my father, and I turned to look at him. “Good luck.”

  Encouragement from a father. I smiled. “Ta.” We got out of the car.

  Justine greeted my knock and gave us an easy smile. If she was upset about our kiss yesterday, she didn’t show it. Today she wore a deep red sweater that made her look vital and curvaceous. I tried not to think about it.

  “Bonjour,” she said, letting us in. “I just poured myself some coffee. Would you care for some?”

  We both agreed, and she left us in the lounge. On the floor in front of the fireplace was a large wooden crate that had been crowbarred open. I looked inside shamelessly: it was full of leather-bound books, beat-up journals, even some preserved periodicals. All about Wicca, the craft, the Seven Clans. Additions to her library.

  “I see you’re examining my latest shipment,” Justine said cheerfully, handing us each our coffee. It was scented with cinnamon, but other than that I detected no magickal addition, no spell laid on it. I took a sip.

  “Yes,” I said, tasting the coffee’s warm richness. “Are these about anything in particular or just general witchiana?”

  She laughed her musical laugh. “Most of these are about stone magick, crystals, gems, that kind of thing. For the gem section downstairs.”

  “I was hoping to go downstairs again,” my father said.

  “Certainly,” Justine said graciously. She walked Da down the hall, opened the door leading down to the library, and turned on the light. “Call if you need anything.”

  She came back into the lounge with an almost predatory expression on her face. “At last we’re alone,” she said, smiling at the cliché.

  “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” I said. I hadn’t sat down and now stood before her. I put down my coffee.

  “Why did you run?” she asked softly, looking up at me. She stretched out one hand and rested it against my chest. “You must know I want you. And I know that you want me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Yesterday shouldn’t have happened. It isn’t just that I’m a Seeker and I’m investigating you. It’s just—I find you very attractive, and I’ve enjoyed our times together.”

  “Me too,” she said, moving closer. I could detect her scent, light and spicy.

  “But I’m involved with someone,” I pressed on.

  She didn’t move for a moment, then she laughed. “What does that mean?”

  “I have a lover.” All right, it was stretching the truth a bit. I almost had a lover. I would have, if I hadn’t been such a git.

  Justine’s beautiful brown eyes narrowed as she weighed my words. “Where?”

  “Home.”

  She turned away from me and walked across the room to stroke one of the cats that lay sleeping on the back of the couch. Then she dismissed my unseen lover with a shrug. “People get together,” she said. “People break up. They move on. Now you’ve met me, and I’ve met you. I want you.” She gazed at me clearly, and if I hadn’t had the tough hide of a Seeker, I would have squirmed. “You and I would be a formidable team. We would be good together—in bed and out of it.”

  I shook my head, wanting to run again. I’m terrible at dealing with things like this. “Not a good idea.”

  “Tell me why.”

  “Because I have a lover. Because I’m still a Seeker and you’re still someone who has an illegal list of true names. I’m here to watch you destroy them before I leave town.”

  She stared at me as if I had suddenly grown antlers.

  I had decided not to use my secret weapon unless I needed to. Better to have her achieve true understanding. “Justine, I understand your motives for wanting to collect true names. But there’s no reason for any one person to amass that kind of power, that kind of knowledge. Even though I know you’re a good person and a good witch, still, power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

  Her lip curled the slightest bit. “I’ve heard that before, of course,” she said softly. “I didn’t believe it then, either. You know, Hunter, I thought you really understood. I thought you were on my side. But you’re still determined to be a council pawn.”

  Ignoring her dart, I held out my hands. “I’m on the side of balance. It’s never a good idea to let things get out of balance, and amassing lists of true names will absolutely tip the balance.”

  Her face lightened, and she shrugged and looked away. “We’ll simply have to agree to disagree,” she said easily. “It was nice meeting you, though. How far of a drive do you have today?”

  I felt that peculiar sensation of tension entering my body, my mind, my voice. It was like a gear shifting. “No, I’m afraid it isn’t that simple,” I said mildly. “I’m afraid I have to insist. It isn’t that I don’t trust you. But what would a malicious witch do with that list? What if it fell into the wrong hands? It would be much better for that knowledge to be disseminated among witches equally, or at least witches who have dedicated themselves honestly to the side of light.”

  I could feel her interest cool as if I were watching a fire die down. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice sounding harder, less seductive. “I just don’t see it that way. So if you’ll just be going, I’ll continue on my life’s work.”

  “I need to see you destroy your list,” I said in a steely voice.

  Justine looked at me in amazement, then threw back her head and laughed. Not a typical reaction to a Seeker’s demand. Then she caught herself and looked back at me, thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “I’ll destroy my list if you’ll stay here and be my lover.”

  Well, that was an offer I didn’t get every day. “I’m sorry,” I said. “But that just isn’t an option.”

  She gave me a cool smile. “Then you need to leave now, and neither of us will have gotten what we wanted.”

  “The list,” I said.

  Her anger flared, as I knew it would eventually. “Look, get the hell out of my house,” she said. “You’re a Seeker for the council, but you’re nothing to me and have no power over me. Get out.”

  “Why don’t you see how dangerous it is?” I snapped back in frustration. “Don’t you see how impossibly tempting it is to control something just because you can?”

  Something in her eyes flickered, and I thought, Struck a nerve there, didn’t I?

  “I’m above that kind of temptation,” she spat.

  “No one’s above that kind of temptation,” I almost shouted. “How do you get these true names, Justine? Can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me there’s no dark magick involved?”

  A spark ran through Justine’s eyes; she hadn’t known that I knew. Her mouth opened, and she seemed momentarily stunned. Just as quickly as it came, though, she recovered. “I don’t know w
hat you’re talking about,” she said in a low voice. “Whoever told you that, it is a lie.”

  “Don’t waste my time, Justine.” I moved closer, raising my voice. “Now destroy the list, or I’ll destroy it for you!”

  She flung out her hand unexpectedly, hissing a spell. Instinctively I blocked it. It wasn’t major; the Wiccan equivalent of slamming a door or hanging up on me. But it was enough to make me see that I needed to up the pressure. I cringed; I had been hoping to avoid this. But it was becoming clear that Justine needed a concrete example, right before her eyes, to see a different point of view.

  “Nisailtirtha,” I sang softly, looking at her as I traced a sigil in the air. “Nisailtirtha.” I sang her name, feeling it achieve its shape in the air between us. It was a very serious thing, what I was doing. I felt extremely uncomfortable.

  Across the room Justine’s eyes opened in horrified shock, and she quickly began to throw up blocking spells. All of which were useless, of course. Because I knew her true name. That was the seductive power of it.

  “Nisailtirtha,” I said with gentle regret. “I have you in my power, my absolute power.”

  She practically writhed with anger and embarrassment before me, but there was nothing she could do. I came closer to her, close enough to feel her furious, panicked vibrations, close enough to smell oranges and cinnamon and fear. “You see,” I said softly, leaning close to her ear, knowing that I was eight inches taller, sixty pounds heavier: a man. “Now I can make you do anything, anything at all.”

  A strangled sound came from her throat, and I knew if she were free, she’d be trying to strangle me. But I held her in place with a single thought. “Do you think that’s a good thing, that I have this power over you because I know your true name? Nisailtirtha? I could make you set fire to your library.”

  She sucked in a breath, staring at me as if a devil she didn’t believe in had just materialized in front of her. A thin, stretched moaning sound came from her throat. I hated this kind of threat—of course I would never make her do anything against her will, not even destroy her list. If I did, I would have let power corrupt me. But I was willing to scare her, scare her badly. In my career as a Seeker, I had done much worse.