by Cate Tiernan
Moira! Mum sent urgently. Moira, get up! You have to get up! Get up NOW! Panting slightly, Moira raised her head and blinked. She was shaking, every muscle trembling uncontrollably. Oh, no, she thought in despair. They're all going to die because of me. It was too much, this responsibility. What had she been thinking, promising everyone that she could do this? She had been too bold, too arrogant-and everyone she loved would pay the price. She took in another shallow breath.
Around her the twelve coven members were watching her with desperate expressions. She met Katrina's eyes, saw the fear and horror in them, the love and regret. Her gran's lips were moving silently; all this time the coven members had been chanting protection spells, ward-evil spells, spells to try to limit the sickness Moira and Ian felt.
Go on! Morgan sent urgently. You can do this, Moira-you're almost done!
Moira stared down the road. The dark wave was almost upon them. Birds who hadn't escaped were dropping dead from the sky. She could see bits of shredded tree, pulverized rock, wisps of burned grass blowing ahead of the wave. Moira gagged with every breath, covering her mouth. Death was coming. Death was here.
"Now!" Sky yelled out loud, then coughed. "All of you twelve, send your powers to Moira and Ian! Chant your protection spells! All of us together!"
Then her mum shouted, "Ignite it!"
Her mum believed in her. She believed Moira could stop the dark wave. Now it was time for Moira to believe in herself. She reached into the very deepest reserve she had, summoned her last bit of strength, and slowly, slowly staggered to her feet. I call on you, she thought, imagining her strong and powerful ancestors-her mother, her grandmother, Maeve, and everyone before them. I call on your power. It was amazing, the rush of energy that suddenly flowed through her. She could do this. She was Moira of Belwicket, daughter of the sgiurs dan, fated to be born. Today, this moment, she would prove her birthright. Yes. I must. It's up to me. With a huge effort Moira threw up her hands. With her last breath she shouted the ancient Gaelic words that would ignite the spell. Her hair was blowing backward, she was struggling to keep her balance, but again she shouted it, louder this time. Next to Moira, Ian also shouted, his arms out from his sides. A third time they shouted the words.
What's wrong? Moira wondered hysterically. It should have stopped! What's wrong? What did we do wrong? We missed something, we skipped something, Hunter misremem- bered. The spell was wrong.
She watched in horror as the people forming the line of protection scattered, running to the sides of the road and flinging themselves down face-first. Then the cloud was upon them, barely licking the place where Moira and Ian stood.
I'm going to die, Moira thought with one last moment of clarity.
Then suddenly a rip appeared in the fabric of the universe, an odd, eye-shaped nether place. A bith dearc, Moira realized. In a split second the dark cloud was sucked into the rip with more force than one could imagine, like a plane suddenly becoming depressurized at thirty thousand feet. The wave, large enough to cover a field, was pulled through the bith dearc in a matter of seconds. Moira fell to the ground, her hands sinking into the soft mud. It seemed to root her to the earth, and she grabbed a tough clump of muddy grass and held on to it. She saw Ian fall. He'd been standing a fraction of an inch closer to the bith dearc, and he was being pulled inexorably toward the opening. In another second he would be through.
"Moira!" Morgan shouted, racing toward them. "Moira!" Ian was on his stomach, clawing at the ground, his eyes wide. Without hesitation Moira reached out and grabbed his hands, the mud making them slick. There was a half-buried rock in the ground and she braced her sneakers against it, leaning back and pulling with all her might. Feeling as if she were in slow motion, Moira gave a huge heave, her teeth gritted, eyes screwed shut, veins popping on her neck. Then all at once Ian was free and the bith dearc sealed seamlessly, leaving no trace of ever having been there.
Moira's mum dropped down next to her, grabbing her and holding on tightly, tightly. Sky skidded to a halt next to her, grabbing Ian’s leg, anxiously making sure he was all right. Behind them Hunter knelt down awkwardly, breathing lightly and shallowly, a clammy sweat dewing his skeletal face.
Moira put her muddy arms around her mum and hugged her back. Then she pulled away and turned around. "Is Ian all right?" she asked shakily.
Ian nodded. He was sitting back in the dirt of the road, looking stunned, sweat only now breaking out on his forehead. "You saved my life," he whispered.
Morgan laughed, brushing Moira's hair off her face, "You saved us," she said, her eyes shining with obvious relief, joy, and pride.
Moira smiled. Then, with no warning, she covered her eyes with one hand and started to weep.
20. Morgan
"I see," Morgan murmured into the phone. "Yes, yes, I think that would be best. When? Tomorrow. I think we can do that. It will be late tomorrow, though."
Hanging up, she looked over at the table to see four pairs of eyes watching her inquisitively. Morgan sat down and put her hand on Ian’s arm. "The New Charter has found your mother and eight of her followers at the border between England and Scotland. They wanted to know if I could come up to identify Lilith and file formal charges against her."
Ian looked down at his bowl, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. Sky, Hunter, and Moira waited sympathetically. They'd all been gingerly hunched over bowls of soup for lunch. It had been only two days since the dark wave, and everyone still felt awful. Morgan was drained but had been busy creating teas and herbal concoctions for everyone in the area. She'd also tried to work some magickal healing but found it strained her still-weak powers. Right now they had to let time do its work.
"What are you going to do?" Ian asked quietly.
"I'm going to go identify her," Morgan said gently. "And file formal charges against her."
He nodded, still looking at his bowl. "Can I go with you?"
"Of course."
Only Morgan and Ian went. Sky had wanted to be there to see for herself that Lilith was being punished, but they agreed it was better for her to stay home and watch Hunter while Moira was in school. He was still unsteady on his feet sometimes, weak, and also just absentminded and foggy. He looked slightly more normal, with short hair and no beard, and his bruises and face slashes were healing well. But he couldn't eat very much, and his nightmares would take a long time to work through. He had settled into the guest room at Morgan's house, and Sky had moved down to the couch.
There was no reason for Moira to go. She, too, was still healing both physically and mentally and wouldn't add much to Morgan's testimony. She and Hunter were getting to know each other, and one of the first times he'd smiled was when she had cracked a dry joke. Morgan and Sky had looked blank, and Hunter had been the only one to get it. Morgan smiled, remembering it.
Sky hadn't been in America twenty years ago when they'd battled the last dark wave, and this had been her first experience with one. It had left her as shaken and drained as the others. Morgan envied her these few days alone with Hunter, getting to know each other again, picking up where they had left off. But as soon as her obligation with Lilith was over, she would rush back. Despite having the rest of her life to spend with him, she felt a need to seize every minute.
She looked over at Ian, pretending to read in the train seat next to her. After the wave had gone, the coven had met back at Katrina's store to comfort and help each other. Katrina had come forward and offered to let Ian stay with her, and he had agreed, at least for a while. He knew his mother would probably never come back to share their house again.
"This is going to be hard," Morgan said sympathetically.
Ian nodded, then sighed. "She was all I had," he said. "I've no idea where my dad is. Don't really want to find him, anyway. Mum had been getting worse and worse, and I just didn't want to see it. Our house-" He shrugged. "Maybe in a while I can go back to it."
"Take your time," Morgan said.
For a moment Ian looked as if he want
ed to say something, then thought better of it.
"What?" Morgan prompted him.
"You're Ciaran's MacEwan's daughter," Ian said hesitantly. "You… you know. Did you… did you love him?"
Morgan hesitated, understanding Ian’s pain all too well. "I didn't really know Ciaran," Morgan said. "Actually I only saw him a handful of times before he died." Before Iona killed him. "But there's something between a parent and child-you want, or maybe need, to love a parent. I have the best adoptive parents anyone could hope for. Really good, caring people who did their best by me. I never knew Maeve. I knew Ciaran was evil, I knew he would betray me or use me or kill me if I didn't join him. Yet what I felt for him was very much like love, despite everything. Something deep inside me felt good that he was proud of me, proud of my powers, that he wanted me to join him when he didn't want his other children. I almost wanted his approval. It crushed me to have to bind him, to have his powers stripped. It was the worst thing, the worst decision I ever had to make. But he was my father. And he loved me, in his way." She paused. "Does that help?"
"Yes," Ian said softly, looking out the train window. "It does, a bit."
Lilith and her followers were being held at a New Charter building not far from Scotland's southern border. When Morgan and Ian arrived, they were led into the manager's office. Matilda Bracken was tall, gray-haired, and severe-looking but smiled warmly when she saw them. Rising, she came to meet them.
"Morgan Byrne of Belwicket," she said. "How very good to meet you. Well done, down in Ireland."
"Thank you," Morgan said. "It took all of us, including Ian Delaney here."
"Yes, Ian." Matilda took both his hands in hers. "I'm sorry to meet you under these circumstances, my dear."
Ian nodded uncomfortably.
"Morgan, first I need you to identify Lilith Delaney and then to fill out a form about your charges. Then, Ian, you'll have a chance to see your mother."
Lilith was being held in a small room. The doorway was spelled so no one could enter or leave, but Morgan could see Lilith through the open door. She pressed her lips together as she saw that Lilith's face still bore signs of the bruising that Morgan's attack had caused. What a terrible night that had been. "Yes, that's her," Morgan said.
Lilith rose from her narrow bed and literally spit at Morgan through the doorway. "It still isn't over," she said, her eyes glittering. "It will never be over."
The prime emotion Morgan felt was sadness. "No, Lilith," she said. "It is over, Iona is dead. You're here, and unless you're rehabilitated, you'll be in the care of the New Charter for the rest of your life. Your house and workroom are being cleared and purified."
Lilith actually looked surprised. "No."
"Yes." Morgan paused. Certain questions still gnawed at her. "Tell me, why did you agree to work with Iona? What was in it for you?"
"Power," Lilith said, as if this were obvious. "She helped me gain control of Ealltuinn. She sent strong people to work with me. We're going to find the power leys of Ui Laithain and use them to become the most powerful witches this world has ever seen. Once I get out of here, you're just going to be a memory." She smiled at the thought, her eyes taking on a crazed gleam.
Lilith's hold on reality was clearly slipping. She had no comprehension of her situation, what her future held.
"That's why you kept an eye on me and reported on me to Iona?"
"Yes. Little enough, for all she did for me."
"What about all the hexes this past month? Why bother? Iona never mentioned them-they weren't part of her plan, were they?"
"I can think for myself just fine," Lilith retorted, her voice rising. "Those were intended to harm you. To show you you're not welcome." She frowned. "They should have worked better. You or your brat should have had accidents, hurt yourselves."
"I guess you underestimated us-both of us," Morgan said, feeling a spark of pride in her daughter. "You know that it was Moira in the end who defeated your dark wave?" Lilith's frown deepened. "How did you learn to create a dark wave, anyway? It's clearly beyond your strength."
Lilith's face grew tight with fury, and the answer was right there.
Iona. It had been in Ciaran's knowledge when Iona had killed him and taken his power.
"So why now?" Morgan pressed, "Iona made a point of telling me that now was the perfect time for all of this- before I defeated her, that is."
Lilith looked ready to explode. "She had to move now," she muttered, "before you became high priestess. Before Moira was initiated. And… she was growing desperate."
"She was dying," Morgan said. "The souls whose power she took were eating away at her. She wasn't strong enough to hold them in check for that long. She was losing control, and she had to act before they tore her apart forever."
Lilith looked contemptuous. "You can think that if you want But Iona is strong; she'll recover from whatever you did to her. And I'm her partner. Together she and I will be able to crush the New Charter. And when we do, we're going to come after you."
There was nothing to say to that. But Morgan did have one last thing to discuss with Lilith. "Ian is here," she said.
"Ian? My boy?" Lilith looked eager, coming to the door.
"Yes. You can explain to him why you abandoned him," Morgan said. "Why your pursuit of power was stronger than your love."
The older woman's eyes narrowed and she stepped back. Morgan turned and headed down the way she had come.
The long train ride home was mostly quiet. When Ian had returned from seeing his mother, he'd obviously been crying, but his face was stoic.
"Time works wonders," Morgan said inadequately, even though she knew firsthand that some pain never seemed to ease.
"Yes, thank you," Ian said, then resumed looking out the window.
I'm going home, Morgan thought, joy blooming in her heart. Home to my daughter, to Hunter, to safety and calm.
Katrina was at the train station to meet Ian. It was thoughtful of her, and Morgan was glad she'd reached out to him. Despite the terrible injustice she'd done to Morgan and to Moira, Morgan believed that Katrina was a good person and would be of great help to Ian during this lost time.
Then she was home. The front door opened before she was halfway up the walk, and her family waited for her. Moira, her daughter, who had saved them all, and Hunter, her Hunter, who was home again at last.
"Welcome home," Moira said.
"Yes," Morgan sighed, reaching out to hug one after the other. "Yes."
Epilogue
"So we've set it up for me to be initiated at Yule, only six months late," Moira said to Tess. She and her mum had made the decision together to wait a little longer, give themselves some time as a family to heal from everything and for Moira to begin to get to know her birth father. "You've not changed your mind, then?"
Tess rolled her eyes. "You only ask me that once a month. Hand me that garland."
Moira handed Tess a garland of woven grapevines and autumn branches. They, along with some others, were decorating their circle room for the Mabon celebration. This year would be especially joyous, commemorating the first anniversary of the defeat of the dark wave.
"Vita's going to be initiated at Imbolc and me at Yule, and that leaves just you," Moira pointed out.
"I'm proud and happy for you both," said Tess firmly. "But it's just not for me. I need the hammer."
Moira handed her the hammer. Tess pounded some short tacks into the wall and placed the garland on them. Across the room Vita was helping to decorate the altar with gourds, fresh vegetables, fruit, and more autumn branches.
"This place is looking fantastic," Katrina said, coming over to hug Moira. Moira smiled. It had taken a while before she had been able to forgive her grandmother, but it had been such a relief when she had. Gran had made the wrong decision, but Moira believed that she had thought she was acting for the best.
A couple of months after she and Moira had sorted things out, Gran and Morgan had gone for an all-day walk, and by
the time they'd come home for dinner, they'd also been on better terms. It was so much easier this way, especially since Ian still lived at Gran's.
Hmmm, where is Ian? Moira looked around, then spotted him carrying in a large wall hanging. It was black, with a silver zodiac sign painted on it: Libra, the balance. At Mabon the day and the night would be exactly balanced, the same length, and then the next day the dark would start to domi-nate until spring.
It was kind of funny, Moira thought, how she still got a fluttery feeling in her chest whenever she saw Ian. They had been seeing each other for a year now. The more she'd gotten to know him, the more amazing she thought he was. For the past three months he'd been helping her study for her initiation, and she was impressed again and again by how smart he was, how quick he was to understand. They were a good team. And his kisses… Moira gave a pleasant shiver.
With help from Brett Hawkstone, Ian hung the wall hanging behind the altar. Ian had worked so hard to fit into Belwicket. People in the coven had been suspicious at first, but he had steadily proved himself by taking part in circles. With Gran's continued support, Ian had become at home with Belwicket.
"What do you think?" Ian asked, coming over. He gestured at the wall hanging.
"It looks great," Morgan said. "Where did you get it?"
Ian looked surprised she didn't know. "Tess made it."
Mouth open, Moira looked up at Tess, who shrugged and smiled. "I was expressing myself artistically," she said.
"Well, it's terrific," said Moira. "I'm really impressed." Tess smiled again, seeming a bit self-conscious.
Moira glanced at her watch. "Time for me to get home, guys," she said.