Eclipse - Кейт Тирнан 6 стр.

I have to go, I said quickly. My stepmonster-to-be is waiting for me.

Hunter nodded and opened the door for me.

The rest of Kithic doesnt know about this, he reminded me. They wouldnt be able to help, and theres no use in terrifying them.

Okay. I looked back at him, framed in his doorway. Then I turned and ran down the stairs, to where Hilary was waiting in the car. I was actually really happy to see her.

I had always thought people exaggerated when they talked about sleepless nights. But that night I had one. Every time I felt myself drifting off, I thought, Great, great, Im going to sleep. And of course as soon as I thought that, I was wide awake again. I heard my dad come home after I had gone to bed. I heard Hilary ask him if he wanted something to eat. I remembered how, before Hilary came, I used to leave him something for his dinner when he had late meetings. For twelve years it had been me and him and a succession of housekeepers. By the time I was ten, Id been able to make dinner by myself, do laundry, and plan a weeks worth of meals. Id thought I was doing pretty damn well, but now Id been replaced.

After they went to bed, the house was still but not quiet. I listened to the heat cycle on and off, the wind outside pressing against the windows, the creak of the wooden floorboards. Dont think about it, I told myself. Dont think about it. Just go to sleep. But again and again my mind teased the idea out of me: I was half witch. I might be able to call on the power, enough to cast the spell against the dark wave. And I was half not witch. So I might very well be able to survive the dark wave itself.

Dont think about it. Just go to sleep.

I thought about Hunters weird dad, about his dying right in front of Hunter.

I thought about my mother, whose powers had scared her so much that she had stripped herself of them so that she couldnt cast any kind of spell good or bad. Had that been the right thing to do? Would I want to do that?

I couldnt control my powers. Sometimes I broke things and made freaky stuff happen. Id only just found out about being half witchI didnt even know how I felt about it yet. It scared me; it pissed me off. Then I remembered some of the things Id seen Morgan do. Now that I knew that I was the one who in fact had been causing the scary stuff to happen, I tried to separate out what had been Morgan. She had turned a ball of blue witch fire into flowers, real flowers, raining down on us. Mary K. thought she had saved their aunts girlfriend from dying after shed fallen and hit her head. She had come to visit me in the hospital when I had been sick. And Id gotten better, right away. Those were good things, right?

I hadnt asked to be half witch. I didnt want to be. But since I was, I needed to decide what to do with myself. Was I going to strip myself of my powers, like my mom, and just keep being a regular human, not tuned in to the magick that existed all around me? Or was I going to try to be a Morgan, learning all I could, deciding what to do with it, maybe deciding to be a healer? Or was I going to be a total weenie and pretend none of this was happening?

Hunter was about to lose his dad, to watch him die. He didnt have the luxury of pretending none of this was happening.

My brain wound in circles all night, and when I realized that my room was growing lighter with the early dawn, I still didnt have any answers.

Alisa. Hunter looked surprised to see me on his front porch, and frankly, I felt surprised to be there again. Id taken a bus most of the way, then walked the rest, the cold wind whipping through my ski jacket. The school day had been endless, and after my sleepless night it had been especially painful to do laps around the gym.

Come on in, he said. Its nasty out there.

Inside, my hands twisted together nervously. I could do it, I said fast, getting the words out before I lost my nerve.

Hunter looked at me blankly. Do what?

I could cast the dark wave spell. I licked my lips. Im half and half. Witch enough to cast the spell. Unwitch enough to survive it. Im your best hope.

I had never seen Hunter speechlessusually he seemed unflappable. Behind him, I saw Mr. Niall come out from the circle room. He saw Hunter and me standing there and came over. Hunter still hadnt said anything. I repeated my offer, talking to Mr. Niall this time.

Youll die if you cast the dark wave spell. I probably wont. I dont know how strong I am, but I can shatter small appliances from twenty feet, I said, trying for some lame humor. All of you guys are sickyou look terrible and you can hardly move. All I have is a headache. You need me.

Nonsense, said Mr. Niall gruffly. Its out of the question.

Theres no way, Alisa, Hunter said finally. Youre completely untrained, uninitiated. Theres no way of knowing if you could do it or not. Theres no way we could risk it.

You cant risk not using me, I said. What if your dad is overcome by the dark wave before he finishes the spell? What happens then? Do you guys even have a backup plan?

From the quick glances they exchanged, I figured they didnt.

But Alisa, said Hunter, youve never even cast a spell.

part in this, but it wont hurt anything to have you know some of it. As you said, the fact that youre only half witch works in your favor here.

I nodded. Now that they had agreed, a whole new set of fears crossed my mind. But I wasnt able to back out now. My mother had been afraid of her powers and in the end had destroyed them. I wasnt therenot yet. I needed more information; I needed to explore their possibilities first. If I did have real powers and I could somehow learn to harness them, use them for goodwell, that would be better than not having any powers at all.

9. Morgan

Wednesday Today sucked. I feel like I have the flu, but nothing I take makes any difference. Ive tried every type of sinus medicine I could findnothing touches how I feel. Mom has noticed how yucky I look, even for me, and keeps feeling my forehead. But I have no fever. Just this horrible, ill feeling that seems to be eating at me from inside out. I am so tried of feeling this wayI keep bursting into tears. Our situarion is so dire that I cant even fully wrap my head around it. Im trying to go to school, to eat dinner with my family, to go on as normal, and all the time I'm trying not to think about the fact I and everyone I love might be dead in a week.

In terms of my studies, I worked on some of the correspondence that Bethany assigned. I am studying the different structures of crystals and how their individual molecule patterns can aid or deter their powers when used in actual spells. I like this kind of stuff. Its sciency. Im just finding it hard to think.

On Thursday, I opened my Book of Shadows to write the days entry. Id been trying to write a little every day, at least a few sentences about what I was doing, Wicca-wise, what I was focusing on. I realized my brain just wasnt functioning. I needed a Diet Coke. Downstairs, I heard the TV on in the family room. I got my soda from the fridge and poked my head in on my way back upstairs. Dad was working on the computer, Mary K. was on the floor, an open textbook in front of her, and Mom was on the couch, going over new real estate listings while she watched TV. My whole family might be dead in a week; this house might no longer exist; these three people who had been the only family Id known, who had taken care of me and gotten mad at me and loved methey might be killed. Because of Ciaran. Because of me. Through no fault of their own. Their only crime being to have adopted and loved me.

Feeling wretched, guilty, and sick, I went upstairs. I wanted to cry but knew that would only make me feel worse. It wasnt just my family. It was Hunter, the person I loved as much as my family. The person I felt so close to, so in love with, whom I wanted so desperately. The thought of him dead, lifeless and charred on the ground, made me feel like I was going to throw up.

And if by some miracle Mr. Niall managed to avert the dark wave, then what? He would still be dead. We would all be alive, but I would have indirectly caused the death of my boyfriends father. Would Hunter ever be able to forgive me for that? Knowing him, probably. But would I ever be able to forgive myself?

I sat down at my desk, my head in my hands. My birth father was going to take Hunters father away, just as Hunter had found him again. What could I do? A series of crazy thoughts went through my head. Could I shape-shift into a wolf and kill Ciaran? I didnt think soI didnt know how to shape-shift by myself. The last time Ciaran had told me what to say and do. Plus, I never wanted to shape-shift againit had been too scary. Plus, I didnt think I could really kill anyone, even Ciaran. Could I somehow warn Kithic and their families so they would leave the area? Again, I didnt think so. It would be virtually impossible to convince anyone, and it would only delay the dark wave, not dismantle it. I wondered if I could put a binding spell on Mr. Niall so he couldnt do the spell. Well, if he didnt do the spell, we would all die. On the other hand, since we would all be dead, Hunter wouldnt have to face his fathers death.

Then it came to mean idea that had been fluttering around my mind. I had been ignoring it, but it would be ignored no longer. I could confront Ciaran again. I could tell him that I would join him. A cold feeling settled over me like a mantle. Noit would be lying, and he would see through it. But maybe... maybe I could confront him again and then somehow use his true name against him? Maybe I could bind him, shut him down so he couldnt do the final part of the dark wave spell? Ciaran was impossibly strong, but I knew that I had an unusual strength myself. For the most part, I was untrained and uneducated, but I had always been able to call on the power when I needed to. And I had Ciarans true name. I had discovered it in the middle of our shape-shifting spell. A witchs true name is made of song and color and rune and symbol, all at once. Everything has a true namerock and tree and wind and bird. Animal, flower, star, river. Witch. To know somethings true name is to have ultimate power over itit can deny you nothing.

And I knew Ciarans. Of course, he knew I knew it and would be on his guard. But it was a risk I felt I should take.

Looking up, my glance fell on my open textbook. I had a plan.

I waited until I sensed that everyone in the house was asleep. I could feel Mary K. in her room, sleeping deeply and innocently. My dad was sleeping more lightly, but I knew that soon he would go deeper and start snoring. Mom slept as she always did, or at least always had since Id started noticingwith the efficient, light sleep of a mom who manages to get her rest while at the same time being poised for action in case she hears the unmistakable sound of a child crying or throwing up. Mary K. and I were in high school, but Mom would probably sleep that way until we left for college.

I crept out of bed and shut myself in my walk-in closet. In there I drew a small circle on the floor with chalk. I closed myself into the circle, then sat cross-legged and meditated. This circle would increase my powers and give me an added layer of protection. I had no idea where Ciaran was, but I had a feeling he was still nearby. I summoned as much power as I could and sent a concentrated message: FatherI need you. Power sink.

I felt a pang of guilt over calling him Fatherespecially when my real father was sleeping across the hall. I found Ciaran extremely compelling and charismatic, and the idea that he was a blood relation still confused me. For him, I was the child most like him, the one he wanted most to teach. Yet we both despised aspects of each other, and we had never really trusted each other.

I dismantled the circle, feeling sick and tired and close to tears. What was I doing? This had seemed like a good idea an hour ago, but now the whole concept frightened me. I didnt know which outcome would scare me more: that he wouldnt answer my message or that he would. I crawled back into bed, every muscle aching, and lay there in a tense half sleep for I dont know how long. Then it came to me, Ciarans voice in my mind: One hour.

An hour can fly by (when Im with Hunter) or crawl by (when Im at school). After I got Ciarans message, each second seemed to take an entire minute to tick past. After lying stiffly in bed for twenty minutes as if I had rigor mortis, I couldnt stand any longer. I pulled on some jeans and a hoodie sweatshirt, whisked my hair into a long braid, and, holding my shoes, crept downstairs.

Outside, I buttoned up my coat and pulled on a knit watch cap. Everything felt tight, surreal as I crunched over the spring frost to Das Boot. I felt like I had infrared vision: I could see every tiny movement of every twig on every tree. The moonlight as it filtered through the tree branches was pale and fragile. I opened the car door, put it in neutral, then took off the parking brake. My Valiant began to roll heavily backward toward the street, and soon we bumped almost silently over the curb. I cut the wheel sharply to the left. When I was facing forward, I eased up on the brake again and let myself roll slowly downhill about thirty yards. Then I started the engine, flipped on the headlights and the heater, and headed for the power sink.

When I was younger, I was afraid of the dark. At seventeen, I was more afraid of things like becoming irreversibly evil or having my soul taken from me by force. The dark didnt seem that bad.

Since I had first started realizing I had witch powers, my magesight had developed, and now I could see quite easily with no light. I parked my car on the roads shoulder and left it unlocked. Every detail stood out as my boots crunched over frost-rimed pine needles, decaying leaves, and water-logged twigs. I was more than twenty minutes early. Casting my senses out, I felt only sleeping animals and birds and the occasional owl or bat. No witch, no Ciaran.

The power sink was in the middle of the graveyard, and to me it felt like every age-worn headstone had something or someone hiding behind it. Ruthlessly I clamped down on my fear, relying on my senses instead of my emotions. I was cold, whipped by a wet, icy wind, but more than that, I was chilled through with fear. No, the dark didnt bother me, but the worst things that had happened in my life had all happened in the last four months, and they had mostly been caused by the man I was waiting to meet. My birth father.

I paced back and forth, and slowly I became aware of tendrils of power beneath me in the earth, tingling energy lines of the power leys that had been there since the beginning of time. They were beneath my feet; they had fed this place for centuries. Their power was in the trees, in the dirt, in the stones, in everything around me.

Morgan.

I spun around, my heart stopping cold. Ciaran had appeared with no warning: my senses hadnt picked up on even a ripple in the energy around me.

I was surprised to get your call, he said in that lilting Scottish accent. His hazel eyes seemed to glow at me in the darkness. Slowly I felt the heavy thudding of my heart start up again. I hope you called me here to make me happyto tell me that were going to be the most remarkable witches the world has ever seen.

I felt so many things, looking at him. Anger, regret, fear, confusion, and even, I was ashamed to admit itlove? Almost admiration? He was so powerful, so focused. He had no uncertainty in his life: his path was clear. I envied that.

I didnt have an exact planfirst I needed to know for sure what his plans were.

Ive been feeling awful, I told him. Is it from the dark wave?

Aye, daughter, he said, sounding regretful. If you know far enough in advance, you can protect yourself from the illness. But if you dont... Which explained why he looked bright eyed and bushy tailed, but I felt like I was going to throw up or collapse. I can do a lot to help your symptoms, he went on. And then the next time youll be protected before it starts.

Im not joining you, I said, drawing cold air into my lungs.

Then why did you call me here? There was a chill underlying his tone that was far worse than that of the night air.

My way isnt your way, I said. It isnt a path I can choose. Why cant you just let me be? Im a nobody. Kithic is nothing. You dont need to destroy us. We cant do anything to hurt you.

Kithic is nothing, he agreed, his voice like smoke rising off water. He stepped closer to me, so close I could almost touch him. An amateurish circle of mediocre kids. But you, my dearyou are not nothing. You possess the power to devastate anything in your pathor to create unimaginable beauty.

No, I dont, I objected. Why do you think that? Im not even initiated

You just dont understand, do you? he said sharply. You dont understand who you are, what you are. Youre the last witch of Belwicket. Youre my daughter. Youre the sgiùrs dàn.

The what? I felt hysteria rising in me like nausea.

The fated scourge. The destroyer.

The what? I repeated in a squeak.

The signs say that its you, Morgan, he explained. The destroyer comes every several generations to change the course of her clan.This time its you who will change the course of the Woodbanesjust as your great ancestor Rose did centuries ago. So you see, you have more power than you realize. And I simply cant let that power be in opposition to my own. It would be... foolish of me to go against fate.

Youre insane, I breathed.

He grinned then, his teeth shining whitely in the night. No, Morgan. Ambitious, yes. Insane, no. Its all true. Just ask the Seeker. At any rate, you wont be around long enough for it to really matter. Either you join me now or you die.

I stared at him, seeing a reflection of my face in his more masculine features. You wouldnt really kill me. Please dont do this, I begged silently. Please.

A look of pain crossed his face. I dont want to. But I will. He sounded regretful. I must. If I have to choose your life or mine, Ill choose mine.

Hearing him confirm this broke my heart. I felt a sadness in my chest like a dull weight. Any of the confused affection I had for him, any lingering hopes I had of someday, somehow having an actual relationship with the man who had fathered me dissipated. A real father would never hurt his own daughteras a real soul mate wouldnt have killed his lover. Ciaran was failing on all counts.

With no warning I was overtaken by a wave of rage, at his arrogance, his selfishness, his shortsightedness. He would rather kill me than know me! He would rather wipe out an entire coven than achieve his ends in other ways! He was a bully and a coward, hiding behind a dark wave that had killed countless innocent people. He was going to kill me because Ia teenager, an unschooled witchscared him. I didnt think before I moved. Suddenly I felt like I was on a play-ground and being picked on. I flung out my fist, catching him squarely on the shoulder. Taken by surprise, as I was, Ciaran caught my wrist in his hand, and then I was twisted down to the ground, crying out. This wasnt magickthis was just a man who was stronger than me. But then he muttered something and I felt a horrible stillness coming over me, a remote coldness that I had felt once before, when Cal had put a binding spell on me.

Dammit! My mind raced ahead in panic as I knelt, so numb I couldnt feel the dampness of the ground seeping through my jeans. What had I been thinking? I knew Ciarans true name! But instead of using it, I had lashed out like a stupid kid!

He released my hand and stepped back, looking angry and concerned. What is this about, Morgan? he said, sounding, ironically, quite fatherly. I couldnt form wordsit was like being under anesthesia, those scary minutes before you go totally out. My brain felt wrapped in damp cotton, synapses firing slowly and erratically. I couldnt move; I no longer felt like I had a body. Besides sheer panic, I was now filled with anger. Could I be any stupider? Magick is all about clarity of thought. Clarity of thought dictates clarity of action. Not thinking, lashing out blindly, not having a firm plan and sticking to it, meant not only troublefor me, now, it meant death.

Im not one of those heroine-type people who think best under pressure. Mostly, under pressure, I just want to cry. I wanted to cry now. I was choked with frustration, with fury, with fear. Instead, I knelt on the cold ground, my father standing before me, holding my life in his hands like an egg.

Morgan. He sounded surprised, disappointed. What are you thinking? Are you really going up against me? Im much stronger than you are.

My mouth moved, but I couldnt form words. Then why are you so scared of me? I thought, sending him the message.

I wondered if I could just think his true nameif that would be enough to control him. I was reluctant to try. If he even knew it was in my mind, Id be toast. I had already made one terrible, possibly fatal mistake. Anything I did from now on would have to be a sure step.

Foggily, my eyes went to Ciarans face. He was talking to me in a low tone, and I struggled to understand what he was saying. Would it be so terrible to join me? Am I such a monster? Im your father. I could teach you things that would make you cry at their beauty, their perfection. Do you really want to throw this opportunity away?

My eyes were focused on him as he spoke. Think, think, I told myself dreamily. Think or hell win. A binding spell was one of the odder spells one could be under. There were different levels of itfrom simply being unable to harm another being to being virtually comatose. The way I felt now was like being wrapped in many layers of tissue: hard to get out of, yet made of thin, tearable layers. I also knew that keeping me in this spell required Ciarans concentration. One could work a binding spell from a distance, but he hadnt had time for that. This was a quick one, hastily put together and requiring his continued effort.

If I broke his concentration, if he for one millisecond dropped his guard, I might be able to do something. Like whimper pathetically and then fall over. Or break free. And then I was sure I could use his true name. It was just so hard to think. I could send a witch message to anyone not right next to me while I was bound. I couldnt form the sounds of Maeves power chant. What could I do? What was I capable of? Starting fires was something I was good atbut everything around me seemed damp. Could I set wet leaves on fire?

Ciaran was talking, pacing back and forth, earnestly trying to convince me why black equaled white. My eyes followed him, but he didnt look at me much: he was sure I couldnt break free.

Fire. Heat. Heat plus dampness... made steam. Steam could be powerful. Most heavy machinery used to be run on steam. Radiators.

Then it came to me. With great effort, I slowly slid my gaze past Ciaran to the trunk of a pine tree. Heat, I thought. Heat and water. Heat. Fire. I imagined sparks, tiny flames flickering into being, fire warming bark, running beneath it.

Ciaran didnt notice the very faint ribbon of steam coming from the tree behind him. His soliloquy continued, as if he thought that if he talked long enough, I would finally be convinced.

Heat, building beneath the pine bark. Pressure building. Cells expanding. Tiny fissures splitting wood fibers. The water in every cell evaporating, turning to steam. I lost myself in it, imagining that I could see the bark swelling, feel the fibers splitting, feel the pressure building.

Crack!

With the force of a small explosion, chunks of pine bark flew outward, hitting Ciaran, almost hitting me. He whirled, his hand outstretched, ready to deflect an attack, but it took him several seconds to see where the sound had come from. Seconds in which his concentration was weakened. In those precious seconds I made a tremendous effort and managed to work my right arm. Summoning every bit of power in me, I raised my voice to say his true name. He whirled as the notes began, my voice sounding dull and leaden under the binding spell. My right hand clumsily sketched runes in the air, and with a last breath I managed to complete ithis true name, a color and song and rune all at once. He hissed something at me, but I held up my hand and deflected it.

Teeth gritted, I said, Take off the binding spell.

The look of fury and horror on his face was frightening, even though I knew I had power over him.

Take it off!

His arm raised against his will, and words fell from his lips. In moments I could take deep breaths, and when the spell dissolved, I fell to my hands and knees.

Morgan, dont make this kind of mistake, Ciaran said softly. But he wasnt in control anymore.

Be quiet, I panted, slowly standing up, rubbing feeling back into my arms and legs. The cold of the night air made me shake: I had been motionless for too long.

I looked at him, my biological father, an extremely powerful witch whom I had both reluctantly admired and truly feared. He had put a binding spell on me! He had planned to kill me, kill my friends, my family. I let my contempt show in my face as I looked at him.

Ciaran of Amyranth, I said, my lungs still feeling stiff, my tongue thick, I have power over you. I have your true name, and you are bidden to do my will. I was trying to remember the exact phrasing from various witch texts. His eyes flashed, but he stood quietly before me. You will never hurt me again, I said strongly. I wasnt sure exactly how a true name workedbut I felt that pretty much anything I said went. Do you understand?

His lips were pressed tightly together.

Say it, I said, feeling unreal, giving him orders.

I will never hurt you again. It looked like the words were costing him.

With quick, efficient motions I put a binding spell on him, just to be safe. He stood in the darkness like a handsome mannequin, but fire was burning in his eyes and his gaze never left me. I have your true name, I said again for good measure. You have no power.

I backed away from him, feeling exhausted. My watch said 2:26 A.M. Pressing one hand against my temple, keeping my eyes open, I sent out a witch message as strongly as I knew how. Hunter. Power sink. Now. Bring your dad. I need you.

10. Alisa

No, noits nal nithrac, not nal bithdarc, Mr. Niall said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

I gritted my teeth. Isnt there a nal bithdarc in there somewhere?

Theres a bith dearc, Hunter reminded me.But not till a bit later.

I let out a breath and sank down onto the wooden floor in front of the fireplace. It was way freaking late, I was exhausted, I had a headache, and I was kind of hungry. Is there any cake left? I asked.

Hunter had made a killer pound cake yesterday, and wed all been wolfing it down in between their teaching me this wretched horrible spiteful spell. Without a word Hunter went into the kitchen and came back with a slab of cake on a plate. I picked it up with my fingers and took a bite.

Mr. Niall sat on the floor next to me and held his hands out to the fire. He looked like death warmed over, gray skinned and hollow eyed. Starting last Tuesday night, hed been working with me on the spell to fight the dark wave. Dad and Hilary thought I was working on my science project with Mary K. I had told Dad Id be home late, and he agreed. Another sign of Hilarys turning my dad crazy: a year ago hed never have let me stay out past his bedtime.

I looked at my watch: past midnight. And I had to go to school tomorrow. Thank God tomorrow was Friday. I could sleepwalk through classes, then go home and crash. Then come here and not have to worry about getting up the next morning.

Im sorry, I said, trying not to spray crumbs. This is all new to me.

I know, said Mr. Niall, rubbing the back of his head. And this is a hard one. Most witches start with spells to keep flies away, things like that.

Keep flies away, I mused. I could probably handle something like that.

Hunter gave a dry laugh, then headed back to the kitchen when the teakettle began whistling.

He came back with three mugs. It was hot and sweet, laced with honey and lemon. I waited till Mr. Niall had drunk his, then tiredly got to my feet. Okay. Can we start right at the beginning of the second part, where we do the sigils?

Lass Mr. Niall hesitated. Youve been trying, but

But what? But I keep messing up? Its late, Im tired, this is my first dark wave spell, I said testily. I know I need lots more practice. Thats why Im here. My jaw jutted out, and I realized that I had some pride invested here. I wanted to be able to do this. Not to look good in front of Hunter and his dad, but because I was my mothers daughter. Shed come from a whole line of witches, yet shed been so freaked out by her powers that shed stripped herself of them. That seemed kind of cowardly to me. My powers scared me, too, but it seemed so wrong to give up like that. I felt like, Im me, Im in control of me. My powers were not in control of me. Doing the spell was a crash course in learning to channel my powers. So far it hadnt been that successful: there had been several times when Id been so upset or frustrated that Id popped a lightbulb overhead, caused a stack of firewood to topple (I assumed that had been me), and made a framed picture drop off the wall.