by Cate Tiernan
"Why aren't you dead?" I asked Hunter.
"Sorry to disappoint you," he said. His voice was raspier than before. "Luckily my cousin Sky is an athletic girl. She found me and pulled me out of the river."
So Sky had gotten my message. I swallowed. "I never meant to—hurt you that badly," I said. "I just wanted to stop what you were doing. You were killing Cal!"
"I was doing my job," Hunter said, his eyes flaring into heat. "I was fighting in self-defense. There was no way Cal would go to the council without my putting a braigh on him."
"You were killing him!" I said again.
"He was trying to kill me!" Hunter said. "And then you tried to kill me!"
"I did not! I was trying to stop you!"
David held up his hands. "Hold it. This is going nowhere. You two are both afraid, and being afraid makes you angry, and being angry makes you lash out."
"Thank you, Dr. Laura," I said snippily.
"I'm not afraid of her," Hunter said, like a six-year-old, and I wanted to kick him under the table. Now that I knew he was actually alive, I remembered just how unpleasant he was.
"Yes, you are," David said, looking at Hunter. "You're afraid of her potential, of her possible alliances, of her power and the lack of knowledge she has concerning that power. She threw an athame into your neck, and you don't know if she'd do it again."
David turned to me. "And you're afraid that Hunter knows something you don't, that he might hurt you or someone you love, that he might be telling the truth."
He was right. I gulped my tea, my face burning with anger and shame.
"Well, you're both right," said David, drinking from his mug. "You both have valid reasons to fear each other. But you need to get past it. I believe things are going to be very tough around here very soon, and you two need to be united to face them."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"What would it take for you to trust Hunter?" David asked. "To trust me?"
My mouth opened, then shut again. I thought about it. Then I said, "Everything I know—almost everything—seems to be secondhand knowledge. People tell me things. I ask questions, and people answer or don't answer. I've read different books that tell me different things about Wicca, about Woodbanes, about magick."
David looked thoughtful. "What do you trust?"
In a conversation I'd had once with Alyce, she'd said that in the end, I really had to trust myself. My inner knowledge. Things that just were.
"I trust me. Most of the time," I added, not wanting to sound arrogant.
"Okay." David sat back, putting his fingertips together. "So you need firsthand information. Well, how do you suggest getting it?"
On my birthday Cal and I had meditated together, joining our minds. Standing, I walked around the table, next to Hunter. I saw the tightening of his muscles, his wariness, his readiness for battle if that was what I offered.
Setting my jaw, focusing my thoughts, I slowly reached out my hand toward Hunter's face. He looked at it guardedly. When I was almost touching him, pale blue sparks leapt from my fingers to his cheek. We all jumped, but I didn't break the contact, and finally I felt his flesh beneath my curled fingertips.
In the street a couple of weeks ago I had brushed past him, and it had been overwhelming: a huge release of emotions so powerful that I had felt ill. It was something like that now, but not as gut-wrenching. I closed my eyes and focused my energy on connecting with Hunter. My senses reached out to touch his, and at first his mind recoiled from me. I waited, barely breathing, and gradually I felt his defenses weaken. His mind opened slightly to let me in.
If he chose to turn on me, I was cooked. Connected like this, I could sense how vulnerable we were to each other. But still I pressed on, feeling Hunter's suspicion, his resistance, and then very slowly his surprise, his acquiescence, his decision to let me in further.
Our thoughts were joined. He saw me and what I knew of my past, and I saw him.
Giomanach. His name was Giomanach. I heard it in Gaelic and English at the same time. His name meant Hunter. He really was a member of the High council. He was a Seeker, and he'd been charged to investigate Cal and Selene for possible misuse of magick.
I almost pulled back in pain, but I stayed with Hunter, feeling him searching my mind, examining my motives, weighing my innocence, my connection to Cal. I felt him wonder if Cal and I had been lovers and was embarrassed when he was relieved that we hadn't.
Our breathing was slight and shallow, noiseless in the deep silence of the little room. This connection was deeper still than the one I had forged with Cal. This was bone deep, soul deep, and we seemed to sift through layer upon layer of connection, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a sunny, grassy field, sitting cross-legged on the ground, with Hunter by my side.
This was nice, and I smiled, felt the sun heat warm my face and hair. Insects buzzed around us, and there was the fresh, sweet smell of clover.
I looked at Hunter, and he at me, and we needed no words. I saw his childhood, saw him with his cousin Athar, who I knew as Sky, felt the agony of his parents' leaving. The depth of his anguish over his brother's death was almost unbearable, though I saw that he had been tried and found not guilty. This was something about which Cal didn't know the truth.
Hunter saw my normal life, the shock of finding out I was a blood witch, the growing sweetness of my love for Cal, the disturbing feelings I'd had about his secret room. I couldn't hide my concern about Mary K. and Bakker, my love for my family, my sorrow over the sadness of my birth mother's life and her unsolved death.
Gradually I realized it was time to go, and I stood up in the field, feeling the grass brush against my bare legs. Hunter and I didn't smile as we said good-bye. We had achieved a new level of trust. He knew I hadn't meant to kill him and that I wasn't part of any larger, darker plan. In Hunter, I had seen pain, anger, even vengefulness, all surrounded by a layer of caution and mistrust—but still, I hadn't seen what I had looked for. I hadn't seen evil.
When I came out of it, I felt light-headed, and David's hand guided me back to my chair. Shyly I glanced up to meet Hunter's eyes.
He looked back at me, seeming as shaken as I was.
"That was interesting," said David, breaking the silence. "Morgan, I didn't know you knew how to join with Hunter's mind, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. What did you learn?"
I cleared my throat. "I saw that Hunter wasn't—bad or anything."
Hunter was looking at David. "She ought not to be able to do that," he said in a low voice. "Only witches with years of training—she got right inside my mind—"
David patted his hand. "I know," he said ruefully.
I leaned across the table toward Hunter. "Well, if you're not evil," I said briskly, "why have you and Sky been stalking me? I saw you two in my yard a week ago. You left sigils all over the place. What were they for?"
Hunter twitched in surprise. "They're protection spells," he said.
Just then the back door, a door I had barely noticed, opened. Its short curtain swung in, and a blast of cold air swirled into the room.
"You!" Sky snapped, staring at me from the doorway. She looked quickly at Hunter, as if to make sure I hadn't been trying to kill him in the last twenty minutes. "What is she doing here?" she demanded of David.
"Just visiting," David said with a smile.
Her black eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't be here," she snarled. "You almost killed him!"
"You made me think I had killed him!" I snapped back. "You knew what had happened, you knew he was alive, yet you let me think he was dead. I've been sick about it!"
She made a disbelieving face. "Not sick enough."
"What were you doing at my house yesterday? Why were you spying on me?"
"Spying? Don't flatter yourself," she said, flinging down her black backpack. "I've had more important things to do."
My eyes widened. "Liar! I saw you yesterday!"
"No, that was me," Hunter put i
n, and Sky and I both turned to stare at him.
He shrugged. "Keeping tabs."
His arrogance was infuriating. He might not be evil, but he was still a horrible person.
"How dare you—" I began, but Sky interrupted me.
"Of course he's keeping tabs on you!" she snapped. "He's on the council, and you tried to kill him! If another witch hadn't seen what you'd done and sent me a message to go get Hunter, he would have died!"
I exploded, leaping to my feet "What other witch? I was the one who sent you the message that night! I was the one who told you to go get him! And I called 911, too!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Sky said. "You couldn't have sent that message. You're nowhere near strong enough."
"Oh, yes, she is," Hunter said mournfully, leaning his chin on his hand. "She just flushed out my brain. I have no secrets anymore."
Sky gaped at him as if he'd been speaking in tongues. He took careful sips of his tea, not looking at her. "What are you talking about?" Sky asked.
"She did tath meanma," Hunter said, his accent thickening with the Gaelic words. A shiver went down my spine, and I knew instinctively he'd referred to what we had done, the thing I thought of as the "Vulcan mind meld."
Sky was taken aback. "But she can't do that." She stared at me, and I felt like an animal in a zoo. Abruptly I sat down again.
"You're Athar," I said, remembering. "Athar means Sky. Cousin Athar."
No one had much to say to that.
"She's not in league with Cal and Selene," Hunter offered finally. I got angry again.
"Cal and Selene aren't in league with Cal and Selene, either!" I said. "For your info, Cal and I have done.. tath menama—"
"Meanma," Hunter corrected.
"Whatever. And he wasn't evil, either!"
"Did he lead it or did you?" Hunter asked.
Nonplussed, I thought back. "He did."
"Did you go as deep as with me?" he pressed. "Did you see childhood and future, wake and sleep?"
"I'm not sure," I admitted, trying to think.
"You need to be sure," David told me, almost impatiently.
I looked at all three of them. They seemed to be waiting for my response, and I had nothing to give them. I loved Cal, and he loved me. It was ridiculous to think he might be evil.
A picture of the little room in the pool house suddenly rose in front of my mind's eye. I pushed it angrily away. My mind seized on something else.
"I heard Bree and Raven talking about how you were teaching them about the dark side," I accused Sky.
"Of course I was," she countered, black eyes flashing. "So they could recognize it and fight it! It seems someone should have been teaching you the same thing!"
I stood again, overwhelmed with anger. "Thanks for the tea," I told David. "I'm glad you're not dead," I growled at Hunter. Then I stalked out the back door.
As I stomped down the alley and back to my car, my brain pounded with possibilities. Hunter wasn't dead! It was a huge relief, and waves of thankfulness washed over me. And he wasn't evil! Just—misguided. Unfortunately, Sky was still a total bitch and leading Bree and Raven and the rest of Kithic into what seemed to me to be a gray area.
But first things first. Hunter was alive!
CHAPTER 12
The Bigger Picture
October 2000
Alwyn's initiation went well. I was so proud of her, giving her answers in her clear, high voice. She will grow up Wyndemkell and, we hope, marry within Vinneag, Uncle Beck's coven.
For one moment, as Uncle Beck pressed his athame to her eye and commanded her to step forward, I wondered if her life would be better had she not been born a witch. She would be just a fourteen-year-old girl, giggling with her friends, getting a crush on a boy. As it is, she's spent the last six years memorizing the history of the clans, tables of correspondences, rituals and rites; going to spell-making classes; studying astronomy, herbs, and a thousand other things along with her regular schoolwork. She's missed school functions and friends' birthdays. And she lost her parents when she was only four.
Is it better for her this way? Would Linden still be alive if he hadn't been a witch? I know our lives would have held less pain if we had been born just human.
But it's pointless to consider. One cannot escape one's destiny—if you hide from it, it will find you. If you deny it, it will kill you. A witch I was born, and my family, too, and witches we'll always be, and give thanks for it.
— Giomanach
When I got home, I found a note saying that Cal had stopped by while I was gone. I ran upstairs, brought the phone into my room, and called Cal's house. He answered right away.
"Morgan! Where have you been? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I said, the familiar feeling of warmth coming over me at the sound of his voice. "I don't know what was wrong with me this morning. I just felt so weird."
"I was worried about you. Where did you go?"
"To Practical Magick. And you'll never guess who I saw there."
There was silence on Cal's end, and I felt his sudden alertness. "Who?"
"Hunter Niall," I announced. I pictured Cal's eyes widening, his face showing astonishment. I smiled, wishing I could see him.
"What do you mean?" Cal asked.
"I mean he's alive," I said. "I saw him."
"Where has he been all this time?" Cal asked, sounding almost offended.
"Actually, I didn't ask," I said. "I guess he's been with Sky. She found him that night and brought him home."
"So he wasn't dead," Cal repeated. "He went over that cliff with an athame in his neck, and he wasn't dead."
"No. Aren't you thrilled?" I said. "The weight of this has been so awful. I couldn't believe I had done something so terrible."
"Even though he was killing me," Cal said flatly. "Putting a braigh on me. Trying to take me to the council so they could turn me inside out." I heard the bitterness in his voice.
"No, of course not," I said, taken aback. "I'm glad I stopped him from doing that. We won that battle. I don't regret that at all. But I thought I had killed someone, and it was going to be a shadow over my life forever. I'm really, really glad that it won't."
"It's like you've forgotten that he was trying to kill me," Cal said, his tone sharpening. "Do you remember what my wrists looked like afterward? Like hamburger. I'm going to have scars for the rest of my life."
"I know, I know," I said. "I'm sorry. He was—more than wrong. I'm glad I stopped him. But I'm also glad I didn't kill him."
"Did you talk to him?"
"Yes." I was getting so weirded out by how Cal sounded that I decided not to tell him about the tath menima— mamena—whatever. "I also saw his charming cousin, Sky, and we got into an argument. As usual."
Cal laughed without humor, then was quiet. What was he thinking? I felt the need to meld with his mind again, to feel his inner self. But I wanted to lead it myself this time.
That was a disturbing thought. Did I have doubts about Cal?
"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly.
"That I want to see you soon," I said. I felt guilty at the partial truth.
"I wanted to see you today," he said. "I asked you, and you said no, and then you went to Practical Magick. You weren't even home when I came by to see if you were all right."
"I'm really sorry," I said. "I just—this morning I felt so strange. I think I was having a panic attack. I wasn't thinking clearly and just wanted to get out of here. But I'm sorry—I didn't mean to blow you off."
"There were people here who wanted to meet you," he said, sounding slightly mollified.
All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. "I'm sorry," I said again. "I just wasn't up to it today."
He sighed, and I pictured him running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "I've got to do a bunch of stuff tonight, but we've got a circle tomorrow at Ethan's house. So I'll see you there, if not during the day."
"Okay," I said. "Give me a call if you can get
away."
"All right. I missed you today. And I'm worried about Hunter. I think he's psycho, and I was relieved when I thought he couldn't hurt either of us anymore."
I felt a sudden twinge of alarm. I hadn't even considered that I'd have to talk to Hunter and make sure he didn't try to go after Cal again. We'd have to find a way to straighten out all these—misunderstandings or whatever they were— without violence.
"I have to go. I'll see you soon." Cal made a kissing noise into the phone and hung up.
I sat on my bed, musing. When I talked to Cal, I hated the whole idea of Hunter. But today, when Hunter and I were doing the tath thing, he'd seemed okay.
I sighed. I felt like a weather vane, blowing this way and that, depending on the wind.
After dinner Mary K. and I were in the kitchen, cleaning up. Doing mundane things like working in the kitchen felt a little surreal after my conversation with Cal.
For the hundredth time I thought, Hunter is alive! I was so happy. Not that the world necessarily needed Hunter in it, but now I didn't have his death on my conscience. He was alive, and it felt like a thousand days of sunshine, which was bizarre, considering how I couldn't stand him.
"Any plans for tonight?" I asked Mary K.
"Bakker's picking me up," she answered. "We're going to Jaycee's." She made a face. "Can't you talk to Mom and Dad, Morgan? They still say that I can't go out on dates by myself, I mean, just me and Bakker. We always have to be with other people if it's at night."
"Hmmm," I said, thinking that it was probably a good idea.
"And my curfew! Ten o'clock! Bakker doesn't have to be home till midnight."
"Bakker's almost seventeen," I pointed out. "You're fourteen."
Her brows drew together, and she dropped a handful of silverware into the dishwasher with an angry crash.
"You hate Bakker," she grumbled. "You're not going to help."
Too right, I thought, but I said, "I just don't trust him after he tried to hurt you. I mean, he held my sister down and made her cry. I can't forget that."