by Cate Tiernan
"How much time?" she asked Sky.
"Three hours? Four?" Sky said, and Hunter nodded. "At best."
Home! Moira thought with relief when they reached the cottage. She would never take it for granted again-there had been more than one time in the last twenty-four hours when she'd believed she'd never see it again. Now she was going to do her utmost to protect it.
"This is where we live," Moira heard her mum explain to Hunter. He still seemed dazed, half there. He kept touching things, running the tips of his long, thin fingers over objects, textures, as if he had to reidentify everything.
Inside, Bixby was hiding under the couch, his pupils wide and his tail fluffed. Finnegan barely greeted them, sniffing Hunter before he slouched under the dining room table, an occasional low growl coming from his throat. Hartwell Moss had been taking care of them, but she wasn't here now.
"They know," said Moira's mum, referring to the animals. She sounded ill.
Ten minutes later Morgan and Sky were poring over Morgan's old Books of Shadows. "See, it took the combination of the four of us," Mum was explaining in a low voice. "Daniel, me, Hunter, and most importantly-Alisa. And it took hours. I don't see how we can possibly…" She shook her head.
"What if we each take a part?" Moira suggested, resting her head in her hands. Her skin felt clammy and cold, her head felt as if it would soon explode, and she never wanted to see food again.
"With this version of the spell, we'd all be in great danger," Morgan said in distress.
"And I won't be of any use," Hunter said, sounding at the end of his rope. Morgan had immediately fixed them all an herbal concoction to help give them energy and take away the nausea, but so far it hadn't been doing very much. Hunter took a sip of his and grimaced.
"I feel like death," Morgan said. "Hunter has no power. Let's just get to the coven and see if they know anything."
The short walk to Katrina's seemed to test their limits. Moira was dizzy and bone tired, and everything seemed to smell awful. Hunter especially looked bad, dragging his feet, swaying sometimes. His face was an unhealthy white beneath the sunburn, and his eyes kept closing as if he could barely go on. Morgan put her arm around his waist, supporting him. As soon as they were within sight of the old store, its door opened and Katrina hurried out.
"Morgan!" she cried. "Thank the Goddess you're here. You know about the dark wave?"
"Yes," Morgan said, letting Katrina usher her into the coven's meeting room. By unspoken agreement, they would deal first with the dark wave-later with their personal matters, if they had the chance. Inside, Moira saw most of the initiated members of the coven. They were obviously suffering the dark wave's effects. Pale and hollow eyed, they came forward to greet Morgan, hugging her, and Tess and Vita ran forward to greet Moira.
"Where were you?" Tess asked, looking frightened.
"I'll have to tell you later," Moira said. "But it's good to see you." She pushed her way through the crowd of people surrounding her mother and saw that the coven was looking at Hunter with undisguised interest.
"This is Hunter Niall," Morgan said shortly. "He created the New Charter." That seemed to be all the explanation she was going to offer for his presence, his extraordinary appearance.
"I haven't asked this yet because it seems too easy," Moira said. "But why can't we all just leave here now? Let the dark wave have the buildings but save the people?"
Morgan shook her head wearily. "That doesn't do any good. It's too close. The wave would follow us."
A sudden pounding on the door startled them-no one had felt anyone approach. Katrina answered it, and Ian stood there, breathing hard. Moira's heart slammed against her chest as all the horrible events of two nights ago-three? — came back to her, and she looked away.
"I'm not sure," he began, trying to catch his breath. Through the doorway Moira could see his mud-spattered bicycle dropped on the ground behind him. "But I think we're all in danger."
Morgan put her hand on his shoulder. Moira saw her look at Sky, as if to ask, Is he being honest?
Sky looked over his head and nodded at Morgan, and she nodded back. Moira guessed they weren't picking up on any hidden agenda or falseness from him. She wasn't either. The night they had visited Lilith, she'd thought he'd betrayed her-he'd participated in Lilith's work. But was he here now, going against his mother? Moira was so afraid to let herself believe in him again.
"My mother's coven left this morning before dawn," Ian said, nervously looking around. "In her workroom I found- stuff to work dark magick with. Really dark magick. I hadn't really known it before." His voice was sad. Moira closed her eyes briefly and cast her senses, reaching for Ian’s emotions. She blinked her eyes back open, her heartbeat quickening. It was genuine, Ian’s pain-genuine and overwhelming. She was almost sure he was telling the truth, and doing so was ripping him up inside. "I didn't want to know what they were doing. But now there's something awful in the air."
"We're pretty sure Ealltuinn has created a dark wave," Morgan said, and Ian flinched in shock. "It will destroy everything around, all of us. Everything."
Ian looked nauseous. "A dark wave? I didn't think anyone could do those anymore."
"Ealltuinn has found a way," Morgan said. "Now we have to stop it." She turned to Hunter. "Do you remember any of your dad's simplified spell?"
Hunter looked at the ceiling, concentrating hard. Silent words came to his lips.
Outside, the wind kicked up, blowing a small branch against a window. The light coming in had a sickly greenish tinge to it, like the light before a tornado.
"No!" he said finally, his fists clenched in frustration.
Morgan's face fell.
Oh, Goddess, Moira thought. What now? We need a plan. There must be some way to fight this!
"It's still in there," Sky said to him, gripping the back of a chair. "She didn't wipe your mind, just bound your magick."
The other coven members stood around, listening. Some smaller groups were discussing ways to act, but no one seemed to be coming up with much.
"I don't know what she did," Hunter said, his cracked lips tight with tension. "I just know I can't remember… a lot. I don't have any power."
Moira could hear his frustration and could hardly imagine what he must be feeling. Would she ever get to know him, even close to as well as she'd known Colm? Would she ever see him healed and happy? Or would this, today, be her only memory of him? Her heart ached at the thought.
"Dammit!" Morgan said suddenly, smacking her hand on the table. "She can't win, not now! We have to stop this."
Katrina and some others nodded, but they all looked uncertain and afraid.
"Can we all just join together and use the strongest protection spells we know?" Christa Ryan asked, rubbing her temples.
"A dark wave isn't just fought," Morgan explained. "It has to be dismantled."
We have to stop it, Moira thought desperately. We're all going to die-none of the past two days will have meant anything. Iona's defeat will mean nothing. The four of us together defeated her-surely we can defeat this now. That was when it came to Moira: The four of us together…
"Mum?" said Moira, swallowing down her nausea. "I have an idea. I think Sky's right-that Hunter still has the spell locked up inside his brain. He just can't remember it. You could do a tath meanma with Hunter, getting the spell from deep inside, where he doesn't remember."
"I thought about that," Morgan said. "But…" She paused, looking at Hunter. "I don't know how well he could stand it right now," she finished softly.
Hunter's eyes hardened. "I can stand it," he said, clearly using every ounce of strength left in him to make the words sound firm and believable.
Moira glanced down at the floor, overcome by the power of his feelings for Morgan, how much he would do for her. And… for Moira, too. She could feel concern for herself in him as well, even though he'd only just learned she was his daughter.
"Still, I'm not in great shape myself," Morgan said, "
Iona drained so much power from me."
"I know," Moira said. "Get the simplified spell from Hunter, then send it to me. I'm not initiated yet, but I have power. You said it yourself-how strong I am. And Sky can help, joining her power with mine."
"No," Morgan said flatly.
"Mum, it's the only way," Moira said urgently, leaning forward. "None of us, no one in this room, has what it takes to do this alone. You and Hunter at least have some experience with a dark wave. You know both me and Sky, you know how to work with us. We have to do it. And what happens if we don't try anything? Are we all just going to sit here and die? After everything?" Moira met her mother's eyes, pleading with her.
"Moira may be right," Sky said reluctantly. "We have maybe an hour before the dark wave gets here. One person working the spell alone might not make it, even with the shortened version. If both of us are working simultaneously…" She looked up. "We just might pull it off."
"We've no other good plans anyway," said Hunter. "None of us are thinking clearly-we've all been through too much. We can either stay here and die, or we can go fight it."
"I hate all of these options," said Morgan, looking from face to face.
"We all do," said Sky. "But there is one problem. We need more than one witch to work the spell, and my powers are still quite weak. I don't know if I…"
"Please let me help," Ian said. His face was solemn and grim. "For years I've not asked questions about my mother's work-even though deep down I always felt something wasn't right. I've gone on and done my own thing and tried not to see what she was doing, she and the new members she recruited to Ealltuinn. But now I see what a coward I've been." His voice dropped so that they had to lean in to hear him. "I need to help make this right if I can. Please let me help. I'm initiated, and I have a fair amount of power."
Moira knew-in every fiber of her being-that he was telling the truth. She'd been right about him all along. Maybe Lilith was like Selene Belltower, but Ian was not Cal. And she hadn't been a fool for trusting him after all. Even with all the danger they still faced, knowing that helped.
Morgan looked at Sky, who looked at Hunter and Moira. Moira waited anxiously, thinking, Please, please, please.
It was only after her mother hesitantly said, "All right. We have no choice," that Moira allowed herself to realize she would be going up against a dark wave. But there was no time to be afraid or to panic. If the dark wave killed her, she would go down fighting, trying to save her family, her coven, her town. Her mum had made the same decision, when she was barely seventeen. Moira was an ancestral Riordan. She was Moira of Belwicket, with her mother's strength, her grandmother's, her great-grandmother's. And Ciaran's strength also. He'd used his power for evil. Moira would use hers for good.
Nodding, she said, "Let's go."
They decided to meet the wave as it approached the village, on the high road by the headland and the cliffs. It was hard to walk fast, with how awful everyone felt, but they tried to hurry, going over the plan as they went. The twelve strongest members of the coven would station themselves in a circle of protection around Moira and Ian. They might not help, but they couldn't hurt, and everyone had agreed to stay together. The rest of the coven would be nearby, sending whatever power they could to Moira, Ian, Morgan, Sky, and Hunter.
"Moira," her mum said, easing closer to her. Her voice was low, confidential. "I have to tell you: dying by a dark wave is much worse than dying almost any other way. And by far the worst thing about it is that your soul then joins the collection, and you become one of the hungry, desperate for energy, for life. That's what we're facing today. I want you to understand just what you're going up against."
Moira tried to ignore the aching, hollow feeling in her chest. "I understand, Mum," she said, keeping her voice as strong as she could. "But as long as we're together, it will be all right. You and Hunter and me and you, all together."
Her mother's eyes grew bright with tears, but she just nodded and squeezed Moira's hand. "I love you," she said. "More than life itself."
"I know," Moira said. "Me too."
"Looks like here," Sky said, a few feet in front of them. They slowed, and Sky looked up at the clouds, then down the road. The air itself felt foul, a mixture of oily fumes, smoke, depression, illness. On the farthest horizon Moira could just barely make out an eggplant-colored line.
Her heart sank down into the pit of her stomach. "Is that it?" she asked faintly.
"Yes," Hunter said grimly. Moira met Ian’s eyes, which were solemn and wide. He gave her a quick nod.
"Yes, I think you're right," Morgan said, sounding tired down to her bones. Moira saw her watching Hunter, as if to make sure that he was miraculously still alive. Desperately Moira hoped they would have more time together. They deserved it Moira was sad for Colm, sad that he hadn't been her mum's muirn beatha dan, and still devastated that he hadn't been her own biological father. But it didn't change the fact that Hunter was both of those things-and Morgan and Moira deserved the chance to be with him. To know him, even, in Moira's case.
"Right, then," said Sky. She sounded tired also, cranky, but she seemed in better shape than Morgan. "Looks like it's going to sweep right on through here. I think Moira and Ian should be in the middle of the road. We three should be over there, maybe. There's a copse of shale-it looks like there's a crevice in it. It won't save us, should it make it here, but it'll shelter us from the worst effects before it does." She looked up at the small crowd of anxious but grimly determined coven members.
"Twelve of you, take your posts," Sky said. Katrina, her sister, Susan Best Keady Dove, Christa Ryan, and Sebastian Cleary broke away from the group and began positioning themselves. They were followed by Hartwell Moss, Fillipa Gregg, and Michelle Moore, and then Brant Tucker and Brett and Lacey Hawkstone moved to the other side. Lastly, Will Fereston took his place.
"Good," said Sky, looking tense and pale. "Now, are we clear on what's going to happen? Morgan's going to get the spell from Hunter."
"We hope," Morgan muttered. "Yes, we hope," Sky said somberly. "Morgan will pass it on to me and to Moira. I will pass it on to Ian, then join my power with Moira's. Moira, you're going to work on the first and third parts of the spell. Ian will work on the second part, which is long. At the right moment Moira will ignite it. Got that?"
Moira cleared her throat. "Yes. Got it." Inside she was quaking with fear and a kind of bleak, private admission that this might all very well be for nothing. Her head was pounding, she felt queasy and shaky. But she wasn't going to show it.
Ian nodded, his jaw tight.
"We'd better move," Hunter said, his voice sounding like rocks scraping metal.
Moira forced a smile at her mum, who was slowly walking backward away from her with a desperate look on her face. Her mum looked stricken, as if she would give anything not to leave Moira right now. And every part of Moira longed to reach out and grab her, to hold on and never let go. She was terrified to face the dark wave without her mum at her side. Her mum, who she understood would do anything to protect her. But now it was her turn to protect her mum.
"Go on," Moira urged softly, working to keep her turbulent emotions cloaked. Her mum nodded stiffly. Then Morgan, Hunter, and Sky disappeared below the shallow copse. Now Moira had to wait till Morgan contacted her with the spell.
"I'm sorry," Ian muttered, looking down. He looked as bad as Moira felt.
"It isn't your fault," Moira said. "I'm sorry… about the other night."
Ian nodded. "That was awful. But it wasn't your fault." Then he reached out and took her hand. Both their hands were cold, trembling, but Moira seized his as if it were her lifeline. She wouldn't have to go through this alone.
The sky to the east was sickly green, tinged with purple. There was a foul stench in the air. Anxiously squawking birds of all types were flying past as fast as they could, escaping in the way that wild animals have of knowing.
It was very near.
Moira. Mum was ready. Mo
ira quickly closed her eyes, trying to blank her mind for the tath meanma with her mother. It would be extremely difficult, since they wouldn't be able to touch. She had to have absolute concentration. Then her mother's consciousness was there, pressing on her brain, and Moira immediately opened her mind to let her in. Surprisingly it hurt, and Moira winced and tensed up at the pain of it. I forgot to warn you this would hurt We didn't have time to prepare properly with fasting, meditating, and so on.
It's okay, Moira sent back, gritting her teeth. Then, with Morgan guiding her, Moira opened her eyes and created a circle with purified salt around her and Ian. She put out Morgan's four silver cups, carved with ancient Celtic symbols and representing the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water.
On this day, at this hour, I invoke the Goddess, Morgan told her, and Moira repeated the words. "You who are pure in intent, aid me in this spell."
And on it went, the first part of the spell. It had been greatly simplified, but Moira still needed to define it, clarify her intentions, and identify all the players and parts.
Next to her Moira heard Ian start to speak as he received his part of the spell from Sky. He moved in a care- fully crafted pattern that would define the spell's limitations: exactly where, when, why, and for how long the spell would ignite. The things it would affect, the things it wouldn't. Looking tense and frightened, he knelt and drew sigils on the ground and in the air. Finally Moira finished the first part, and she waited anxiously for Ian to finish the second part before her mum would coach her through the third.
Okay, now Ian’s done, Morgan sent, and Moira nodded. This third part is the actual spell.
Slowly and carefully her mum fed Moira the words to say, the words that defined for all time exactly what this spell would do. Moira needed to move at certain times, to trace runes in the air or on the ground, to rub salt on her hands, to spill water on the ground. She started feeling really terrible about halfway through, when the throbbing pain of the tath meanma, her rising nausea, and the abhorrent stench in the air all combined to make her sway on her feet. What next? she thought, forcing herself to concentrate. Her mother repeated what she was supposed to do, and, almost in tears, Moira began it. Then her head started spinning and Moira seemed to lose all her peripheral vision. An acrid taste rose in the back of her throat and her stomach heaved. Clapping her hand to her mouth, she fought it down, then fell to her hands and knees in the mud of the road.