Witching Time

by Yasmine Galenorn

  “Someone you know, my ass. It’s fine if she’s your girlfriend, but I expect you to man up and do the right thing.” When Phasmoria was on a tear, you didn’t cross her because she’d rip you a new one.

  “What’s going on?” I reached for one of the letters but my father slapped my hand—gently, but hard enough to make me drop the envelope.

  “These letters are none of your business,” he said.

  “They most certainly are, given the circumstances.” Phasmoria held up a pack of five letters. “I wouldn’t have read them without permission. And Peach Blossom gave me permission. She also introduced me to your son.”

  I froze, slowly withdrawing my hand. “Dad? You have a son?”

  Curikan blushed, his cheeks flaming as he stared at the mound of cards and letters sitting on the table. “Well, to be honest, yes. I do. I didn’t know about him until a few months back, but I guess the cat is out of the bag. Raven, you have a little brother.”

  I stared at him. Why had he hidden this?

  Phasmoria spoke before I could. “Peach Blossom dropped by your house while I was there. We had a long talk.”

  Curikan’s blush spread and he cleared his throat. “I see.”

  “What the hell is going on? Who’s Peach Blossom? How old is my brother and why didn’t you tell me about him?” I suddenly found myself angry. “Why did you keep this all a secret?”

  “All right, all right!” Curikan held up his hands and shook his head. “I give up. Peach Blossom is one of the Ante-Fae out east. She’s originally from down south but she moved up north about two decades ago when the heat got too intense. I met her when I was out for a run and—being Ante-Fae—she wasn’t affected by me. We started seeing each other regularly and then, ten years ago, she ended up pregnant. She wanted to raise the boy on her own. Now, they need a place to live in and…I don’t need another family. We still get along, but I’m giving her my house so she and Conner can have a safe place to live.”

  I stared at him. Within five minutes, I suddenly had a ten-year-old brother named Conner. “Tell me about him. What kind of Ante-Fae is Peach Blossom? And your son—what are his powers? What’s he going to do without a father?” I stared at Curikan, suddenly wondering if I really knew much of anything about him.

  Curikan narrowed his eyes, much like when he was on the verge of exploding over something. He seldom got angry at me, but when he did, I had learned long ago to shut up and listen. He was a good father, but he could be stern.

  “He’ll do just fine. You did fine without your mother there—”

  “Don’t put this on me,” Phasmoria said, glowering. “I had orders from the gods. You…just decided to march out of their lives.”

  “Maybe I’m not ready to be a father again,” Curikan barked at her. He let out a long, shaking sigh and then added, “All right. There are issues. Let me tell you the whole story since it’s obvious that neither one of you will let up on me until I do.”

  We settled down around the table. Kipa kept silent, but I could tell he was paying attention. Grateful he was letting us handle this as a family unit instead of trying to step in and fix things, I turned back to my father.

  “We’re listening.”

  “I met Peach Blossom when I was out on a midnight run, as I said. We stopped to talk, because it was obvious that we were both Ante-Fae. She’s a tree spirit, as you might have guessed, but she’s attached to the energy of the peach, not to one particular tree. She moved north as the Earth has warmed. She doesn’t fare well in hot weather. Her powers are steeped in earth magic and tree magic, and she’s actually a powerful witch. Anyway, we started seeing one another. It’s never been a serious affair, but we were both there and unattached and it filled a void in our lives. This started twenty years ago.”

  “I visited you at one point during that time. Why didn’t you tell me about her?” I asked.

  “Have you told me about every boyfriend you’ve had?” Curikan countered.

  I stared at him. “I’ve only ever had two serious relationships—Ulstair and Kipa.”

  “That’s the key word: serious. Peach Blossom and I weren’t serious. We were no-strings attached, let’s have fun and get together for a movie dating.”

  “Friends with benefits,” Phasmoria said. “Go on.”

  “Well, ten years ago, if you want details, the condom broke. We thought everything was fine—we’re such disparate bloodlines that we just assumed it would be okay. But it wasn’t. She ended up pregnant. I really didn’t want to play father again, and as much as I like her, I don’t love her. She doesn’t love me. We weren’t about to bond as a family when there wasn’t love involved. I have helped her bring him up—I’ve given her support all these years.”

  “What about Conner? Have you spent much time with him?” I asked. I wanted him to say yes, wanted him to step up fully to the plate.

  “No,” Curikan said. “But it’s not because I wasn’t willing. I’d do my duty, if I could. Conner was born with a mutated gene. He’s Ante-Fae, yes, but he has vulnerabilities. He was born without some of the natural protections of our race.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Conner is susceptible to me, to my curse. He’ll react like a human if he ever meets me again. That first night when I visited Peach Blossom after she had him—I could feel him responding to me the way humans do. He was giddy, for a baby, practically bubbly. That’s how most humans react to me when they meet me the first time. Both Peach Blossom and I noticed it. So before I ever went out of that room, we asked the midwife to perform some tests. If I ever meet my son again, he’ll be beset by some tragedy…possibly even die. I don’t dare ever enter his presence again.” My father’s eyes glistened.

  I groaned, feeling horrible about grilling him. “I’m so sorry. So…you’re actually leaving so they don’t have to, so you won’t ever accidentally run into him again.”

  “Right. He’s a wonderful boy, and she’s a wonderful mother. He knows about me, and he knows why he can’t see me. But I worry that one day, his curiosity will overcome his common sense and his fear. That’s all too easy to predict happening.” Curikan shrugged. “I thought they might as well have the house. It’s long paid for.”

  Phasmoria worried her lip. “Why didn’t she tell me that part?”

  “She might have been afraid of you—afraid of what you might have done or said. You are intimidating and we did have a long relationship. She might still think you have feelings for me.” Curikan grinned for the first time since the conversation had begun.

  I stared at them both. “You do have feelings for him. You slept together the other night.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Curikan said, grinning.

  “Merely a salute to good memories,” Phasmoria said to me, then turned back to my father. “Of course I have feelings for you, you idiot. But they don’t include jealousy. So, why the rush to get your things out?”

  “So they can move in. So there won’t be anything left for my son to look through that might tell him where I went. So if you would do me the favor of packing up the rest of my things, I’d highly appreciate it.” My father leaned forward, staring at my mother. “I’m not a cad.”

  “No, you aren’t,” she said, a soft light filling her eyes. “You’re trying to protect your son. I’m grateful Raven doesn’t have that problem—the mutated gene. I’m sorry that your son can never meet you.”

  “I am, as well. But it’s better if I’m out of his life for good. Otherwise, the temptation for him might always be there. Which is why he’s never to know where I am.” He turned to me. “You will remember that, won’t you? He knows he has a half-sister, though I don’t know if his mother’s ever told him any more than that. I want your promise—you won’t go looking him up unless you contact his mother first and ask her permission.”

  A thousand thoughts whirled through my head. I had a little brother, who could never meet our father. “How can I give a blanket promise like that? What if there’s
some emergency and I need to contact him? And don’t ask me what kind of emergency, because it’s hypothetical. Also, if I ever do get to meet him, what do I say when he asks about you?”

  “You remind him why I can’t meet him and you give him absolutely no information as to where I am.” Curikan sighed, looking impatient. “I’m getting tired of talking about this so please, just abide by my wishes.”

  Phasmoria nodded. “Of course. I’ll head back there in a bit to finish packing your things. Raven, come with me. I wanted to see that new dress you told me about.”

  I stared at her, bewildered. I hadn’t mentioned any new dress, and my mother—while always fashionable—wasn’t a fashion hound. Then I saw the look in her eyes and realized what she was asking. “Sure, of course. Come on back. But after that, I need to fill Kipa and Curikan in on what happened when I talked to Wager, and then to Herne.”

  “This will just take a moment,” Phasmoria said, draping her arm around my shoulders as we headed to my bedroom.

  The moment we were in the room, she shut the door and turned toward me. “All right. What are we going to do about your father? He’ll never survive living in Y’Bain, I can tell you that right now. He’s too used to a comfortable life. I can’t imagine him trying to carve out a homestead in the forest there.”

  Y’Bain was a massive forest in Annwn, and it was one place the gods couldn’t enter, even though it buttressed both Brighid’s and Cernunnos’s lands. Filled with monsters and magic, the forest was a dangerous, glittering place.

  “I agree. I tried to talk him into moving out here. He could live up in the Cascade foothills and be safe from running into anybody. Or maybe out on the peninsula. But he seemed insistent and now I know why.” I frowned, dropping onto the bed. “Maybe I can talk to Herne, and he can talk to Cernunnos and maybe somehow we can keep him from moving to Annwn.”

  “We need to talk to somebody because I guarantee you that Curikan isn’t cut out for a hard life. He might be one of the Ante-Fae, but he’s the most domesticated member of the Black Dogs that I’ve ever met.” She sat down beside me. “How do you feel about your father having another child?”

  I could tell she was trying to be supportive. “I’m fine about it. To be honest, I’d love to meet the kid, but right now, I think we need to focus on keeping my father from making the biggest mistake of his life. He’s just not…wait.” I snapped my fingers. “What about Grandpa? Why not contact him? He’s the one person Curikan listens to.”

  My grandfather was also one of the Black Dogs, and he lived on the Scottish moors. I had never met him, but I’d talked on the phone with him and he was imposing enough through just his voice. I couldn’t imagine what he was like in person. “You could go see Dougal and tell him what’s going on. I doubt if Grandpa wants Da to move over to Annwn.”

  Phasmoria’s face lit up. “That’s a wonderful idea. Curikan will obey his father, if he’s going to listen to anybody. I’ll do that before I go back to finish packing his things. Meanwhile, you need to talk to Herne and ask him to stall on any promises to help Curikan.”

  “I can do that. All right, we have a plan. Shall we get back in there? I need to tell them about what’s going down tomorrow night.”

  My mother grinned. “It’s fun having secrets between just us, isn’t it?”

  I had to laugh. My mother the Bean Sidhe…yep…I could always count on her. “Yeah, it is. I have to say, thank you.” I stood, straightening my dress.

  “Why? What did I do?”

  “You didn’t just run off. You came back when you could, and you did everything you could to forge a relationship with me. I appreciate it. I love you, and I hope you know that.” I was suddenly feeling grateful that I knew both of my parents and that both of them cared about me.

  Phasmoria smiled. “Raven, even though I couldn’t be there when you were growing up, I always kept in touch with Curikan. I kept tabs on you. It’s easier to visit because now you don’t feel it so keenly when I have to leave. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t come visit a great deal when you were young. I couldn’t stand breaking your heart every time I left.”

  I pressed my lips to her cheek. “I understand that, now. Okay, let’s go. And you get your ass over to Scotland and talk to Grandpa.”

  “Just don’t tell Curikan.” She gave me a hug.

  And, as much as I hated keeping secrets, I agreed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After Phasmoria left, I filled Kipa and Curikan in on what Wager had told me, and what we had decided when I was at the Wild Hunt.

  “We’re going to drive the wights into the middle of the farm and then go after them with fire and holy weapons. It’s not going to be easy, given they’re invisible, but it seems like the best deal.” I shrugged. “At least seeding the crystals shouldn’t be difficult. That is, if you can bring enough guards to help us,” I said, turning to Kipa.

  “I can do that. When do we meet?”

  “At seven, given it’s a weekday and the Wild Hunt crew has other things to attend to during the day.” I shrugged. “I just hope this takes care of the wight issue for good.”

  “After we do this, we should have someone there to bless the land and cleanse it from everything that’s gone on,” Kipa said. “I’ll call Herne and see if his father can send someone from Annwn. Cernunnos has a number of high-powered priests, and if they’re Elven, so much the better. Elves tend to be incredibly strong when it comes to nature magic.”

  “Until then, what do we do?” Curikan said.

  I stared at him for a moment. “Until then, we just hang out, talk, and try to relax.” I wanted to push him on the moving thing again, but I knew that would be a mistake. So for the rest of the day, we played with the ferrets, watched TV with Raj, and spent the evening making dinner together. But the entire time, I kept thinking about Phasmoria, and wondering how she was making out with Dougal, and when he would call.

  The next morning, I was trying to decide what to wear when I heard Curikan shouting from the living room. I threw on my robe and raced down the hall, only to find him shouting into his phone.

  “What the hell? How did you find out?… She did, did she?”

  I had never seen my father look so angry and immediately knew that he was talking to my grandfather. Kipa was making breakfast. He motioned me into the kitchen.

  “What the hell’s going on?” he whispered.

  “I have a feeling my grandfather’s telling him not to move to Annwn.”

  Kipa raised his eyebrows. “Really? And how would you know that?”

  I sighed. “Promise me you’ll keep this a secret, but my mother and I thought this might be the only way to keep him over here. My father might be one of the Ante-Fae and a Black Dog at that, but we all know that he can’t survive over there. I love him but he’s a marshmallow. Oh, he’d protect his loved ones with his life, but Y’Bain is filled with big, mean monsters.”

  Kipa paused, spatula in the air. “So you and your mother decided to go behind his back and enlist your grandfather in your plan?” He was frowning, his eyes narrowed.

  “Yes, and hush,” I said, cringing as my father let loose with a volley of swear words in Scottish Gaelic. I didn’t understand most of what he was saying but I caught a few choice words that made me wince. “He’s pissed.”

  “I would be pissed too,” Kipa said. “However…I understand why you did this. You’re right, your father isn’t really set up for life in the wild.”

  “You’re damned right he isn’t. He wouldn’t survive. Not all of the Ante-Fae are good at roughing it.” I thought about Vixen. I knew that they wouldn’t make it in the wild, that was for sure. Or Apollo. I wasn’t even sure I could, though I stood a better chance than my father.

  “I won’t tell, but isn’t there another way you could have found besides going behind his back?” Kipa sounded so worried that I realized he might think I’d do this to him, as well.

  “What are you talking about?… You want me to what?�
� My father’s voice echoed from the dining room.

  I took the spatula out of Kipa’s hand and set it on the counter. “Listen to me,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I’ll do whatever I have to in order to protect my father. Sometimes if someone is too stubborn for their own good, you have to step in. Phasmoria agrees. And if you don’t like it, you can stuff it up your…nose.” I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t angry, but Kipa needed to understand that I had reasons for interfering and my decision wasn’t his to question.

  Kipa stared at me, then sputtered out a laugh. “Up my nose? Did you really just say that?”

  “It seemed more polite than telling you to stuff it up your ass.”

  He shook his head. “You take the cake. But you’re right about one thing. Y’Bain is one of the most dangerous places you could choose to move to. I suppose I understand why you’re being so protective. You love him and you want him to be safe.” He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me. “I understand. I do.”

  I rested my head against his chest. “He’s the only father I have, and now that I know I have a brother, I feel a responsibility. Curikan may never be able to meet Conner, but I want him alive for the boy. Maybe someday they can write to each other or talk on the phone. Da’s curse doesn’t extend through the phone lines.”

  Kipa pushed me back, holding me by the shoulders. He stared at me with a skeptical look. “You’re planning more than just keeping your father here, aren’t you? You’re planning how to put your brother in touch with him, aren’t you? Raven, you might want to rethink that.”

  I averted my gaze. Kipa didn’t have to know all my secrets. “I never said anything like that. While he’s underage, I won’t even attempt to contact Conner without permission. But I won’t promise to keep quiet once he’s an adult. By then, he’ll be able to understand about the problem with his genes and Curikan’s nature. As a child, I get that he wouldn’t grasp the gravity of the situation.”

  “Raven,” Kipa said, giving me a warning look. “You’re playing with fire. I understand protecting Curikan from himself, but seriously, leave things alone for now. Promise me?”