Before I left my car, I went through my usual preparations. When a Seeker approaches someone she or he is investigating, anything can happen. An unprepared Seeker can soon be a dead Seeker. I took a moment to focus my thoughts, sharpen different defenses, physical and magickal, that were in place, and did the usual ward-evil, protection, and clarity spells. At last I felt sufficiently Seekerish, and I got out of my car and locked it.
I walked up a meandering stone path toward the bright red front door, wondering what Ms. Courceau would be like. Judging by the cottage, I was already picturing her as something like Alyce, perhaps. Gentle, kindly, with three or four cats. I hoped it would be as easy as it seemed. Unfortunately, Ive learned that isnt always the case.
While I had been sitting in my car, no face had peered out through the thick-paned, old-fashioned windows, bordered with dark green shutters, and I hoped Ms. Courceau was home. I didnt see a car. Glancing toward the back, I saw a small greenhouse attached to the cottage, plus quite a few well-ordered squares of garden behind. Maybe there was a garage back there as well.
At the front door I put all my senses on alert and rapped the shining brass door knocker. I felt someone casting their senses toward me and instinctively blocked them. The door opened hesitantly, and a woman stepped forward. I was momentarily taken aback.
Justine Courceau? I asked.
She nodded. Yes. Can I help you?
My first, instantaneous impression was that she was much younger than I had assumed. I realized Kennet hadnt mentioned her age, but this woman couldnt have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three. She was strikingly pretty, with shoulder-length dark red hair. Her skin was clear and ivory-toned, and her eyes were wide and brown, kind of like Mary K.s.
Im Hunter Niall, I said. The council sent me here to talk to you. This sentence can create any number of different reactions, from defiance, to fear, to curiosity or confusion. This was the first time someone had laughed at me outright.
Im sorry, Justine said, stifling her laughter but still smiling widely. Goodness. A Seeker? I had no idea I was so scary. Come in and have some tea. You must be frozen.
Inside, her cottage was charming. I cast my senses and picked up on nothing but the usual frissons of lingering magick, regular magicknothing odd or out of place. I detected faint traces of mild spellcraft, the pleasing scents of herbs and oil, and a quiet sense of joy and accomplishment. I could feel nothing dark, nothing that set off my radar. Instead I felt more comfortable in this room than I had in most of the places I had been in the last six months.
Please, sit down, said Justine, and I processed the musical notes of her voice, wondering if she sang. The kettles already onI wont be half a minute. She spoke perfect English but with a soft French accent. I was just glad she spoke English. It would have been hard going, doing all this in French.
The sofa in the lounge was oversize, chintz-covered, and comfortably worn. On the table before it rested a circular arrangement of pinecones, dried winter berries, some pressed oak leaves. It was unpretentious and artistic, and the whole cottage struck me that way. I wondered if this was all her taste or whether she had lived here with her parents and then inherited all their decor.
As soon as I sank onto the couch, two cats of undistinguished breed approached me and determinedly climbed into my lap, curling up, kneading my legs with their paws, trying to both fit into a limited space. I stroked their soft, winter-thick fur and again picked up nothing except well-fed contentment, health, safety.
Here we go, said Justine, coming in with a laden tea tray. There was a pot of steaming Darjeeling tea, some sliced cake, some fruit, and a small plate of cut sandwiches. After the past week of my doing all the cooking, it was nice to have someone feed me for a change.
Holding my tea over the cats on my lap, I said, Obviously you know why Im here. The council sent you a letter that you didnt respond to. Do you want to tell me whats going on, in your own words?
Her brown eyes regarded me frankly over her Belleek teacup. Now that I look at you, you seem quite young for a Seeker. Is this your first job?
No, I said, unable to keep the weariness out of my voice. Do you want to tell me whats going on, in your own words? Witches tended to prevaricate and avoid a Seekers questions. I had seen it before.
Well, she said thoughtfully, I assume youre here because I collect the true names of things. She took a sip of tea, then curled one leg underneath her on her chair.
Yes. Every witch uses them to some degree, but I hear youre collecting the names of living beings and writing them down. Is that true?
You know its true, she said with easy humor, or you wouldnt be here.
I took a bite of sandwich: cucumber and country butter on white bread. My mouth was very happy. I swallowed and looked up at her. Talk to me, Ms. Courceau. Tell me what youre doing.
Justine, please. She shrugged. I collect the true names of things. I write them down because to learn and remember all of them would take me a lifetime. I dont do anything with them; I dont misuse them. Its knowledge. Im Rowanwand. We gather knowledge. Of any kind. Of every kind. This is what Im focusing on right now, but its only one of many areas that interest me. Frankly, it doesnt seem like the councils business. She leaned back in her chair, and another cat leaped up on the back of it and rubbed its head against her red hair.
I was aware that there was, if not exactly a lie, then a half-truth in what she had just told me. I continued to question her, to explore her motives.
Many clans gather knowledge, I said mildly, breaking off a piece of cake with my fingers. Its the very nature of a witch to gather knowledge. As Feargus the Bright said, To know something is to shed light on darkness. But it makes a difference what kind of knowledge you collect.
But it doesnt, dont you see? Justine asked earnestly, leaning forward. Knowledge in and of itself cannot be inherently evil. Its only what a person chooses to do with that knowledge that makes it part of good or evil. Do we want to take the chance that something precious and beautiful will be lost forever? I dont have children. What if I never have children? How will I impart what Ive learned? Who knows what later generations might be able to do with it? Knowledge is just knowledge: its pure; its neutral. I know that I wont misuse it; I know that what Im doing is going to be hugely beneficial one day.
Again I had just the slightest twinge of something on the edge of my consciousness about what she had said, but I would look at it later. Anyway, I could see her point of view so far. Many witches would agree with her. It wasnt my job to agree or disagree with her.
We talked for another hour. Sometimes Justine pressed her beliefs, sometimes we just chatted, learning about each other, sizing each other up. At the end of my visit I knew that Justine was very bright, extremely well educated (which she would be: I had recognized her mothers name as one of the foremost modern scholars of the craft), funny, self-deprecating, and strong. She was wary; she didnt trust me any more than I trusted her. But she wanted to trust me; she wanted me to understand. I felt all that.
Finally, almost reluctantly, I needed to go. It had been a nice afternoon and such a great change from the hellish disappointment the last week had been. It was nice to talk to an ordinary witch instead of someone hell-bent on his own destruction, someone mired in grief and pain.
Id like to meet with you again before I make my report to the council, I said. I carefully dislodged the cats in my lap and stood, brushing fur off my jeans. Justine watched me with amusement, making no apologies.
Youre welcome here anytime, she said. There arent any other witches around here for me to talk to. Its nice to have company I can really be myself with. She had a nice smile, with full lips and straight white teeth. I put on my coat.
Right, then, Ill be in touch, I said, opening the front door. As I started down the stone path, I became suddenly aware of Justines strong interest in me. I was surprised; she hadnt given a sign of it inside. But now I felt it: her physical attraction to me, the fact that she liked me and felt comfortable with me. I didnt acknowledge it but got into my car, started the engine, and waved a casual good-bye.
11. The Rowanwand
The Seeker arrived yesterday. I don't know how to describe my reaction-he's an invader, and I should resent him being here, yet he is so interesting. He is an Englishman, young, scarcely even twenty. Yet he carries himself with a confidence, a maturity that makes me think he has great potential. I do sense turmoil in him-whether it is a result of this assignment or a personal problem, I can't say. Still, he is so attractive to me, so stimulating to talk to, I find myself wondering if I could win his heart.
Of course, I haven't been able to do any research since I sensed him coming. I've stripped the library of any traces of magick and have performed endless purification rituals to keep him from sensing the taint of the other side. I miss my work and my friends in the shadow world more than I can express, but I can be patient. The Courceaus know much about patience, hiding our time, waiting until the right moment to make our intentions known.
Goddess, help me to keep my focus and remember that it is my work that is most important-more important than any temporary attraction I might have. If only there were some way to make him understand. If only I could get his true name
J.C.
This morning I spent time in Foxton proper, hanging out at the local bookstore, the coffee shop, the library. Its a bigger town than Saint Jérôme du Lac and has more resources. Basically I was casting my senses, trying to listen for gossip about Justine. Unlike my father, no one here seems to have identified her as a witch, though quite a few people knew who she was. I mentioned her name in a few places, and people had only good things to say about her. The previous autumn shed led a fund drive for the library, and it had been their most successful ever. One woman told me how Justine had helped when her dog was illshed been a godsend. The general impression was that she was something of a loner but friendly and helpful when needed. They thought of her as a good neighbor.
The way Kennet had talked about her, I had been prepared for another Selene Belltoweran amoral, ruthless user who felt she was above the council laws. Justine didnt seem that way at all. Though, of course, appearances can be deceiving.
Back at the bed-and-breakfast, Da was doing a lot of lying around, staring at the walls. I had brought several books to read, and I offered them to him. If he knew about the watch sigil or the spelled door, he didnt mention them. Mostly he seemed incredibly depressed, hopeless, uninterested in anything. I wanted to jolt him out of his stupor but wasnt sure how. I wished there was a healer around.
That afternoon Daniel lay down with a book, and I headed back to Justines. She greeted me cheerfully, and soon I was again sitting in her comfortable lounge, with cats appearing out of nowhere to take naps on me.
Ive been thinking about what you said yesterday, she began. About the council laws and why we have them. And Im just not convinced. I mean, I obey all Canadian laws, and I recognize their right to have and enforce them. After all, Im choosing to live here. If I dont like their laws, I can decide to move somewhere else. But I have no choice about being a witch. I am one, by blood. It would be impossible for me not to be one. So why should I accept the councils laws as valid over me? They set themselves up almost two hundred years ago. Nowadays theyre elected, but the entire council, in and of itself, wasnt created by the Wiccan community or even by the Seven Clans. To me they seem arbitrary. Why should I subject myself to their laws?
I leaned forward. Its true that the council created itself long ago. But the original members were witches, just as all members are today. The council wasnt created by humans, who have nothing to do with witch affairs. The creation of the council signifies the intent of the witch community at large to be self-governing. And yes, were all subject to whatever human laws govern the places in which we live, but those laws dont address the sum of our existence. Everyone who practices the craft, everyone who works with magick is a part of a different world. That world intersects with the human world but doesnt overlap. I adjusted one of the cats on my lap, whose claws were digging into my thigh. Were not talking about golf here, Justine. Were talking about magick. You know as well as I do that magick can be incredibly powerful, life-altering, dangerous, misused, destructive. You dont think its a good idea to have some sort of mutually agreed-upon guidelines for it? Do you really think it would be preferable to have no laws in place? So that every witch could make any kind of magick she or he wants, with no fear of reprisal?
Her brows came down in a thoughtful V, and she pulled a corner of one lip into her mouth: she was thinking. Its just that the laws seem arbitrary, she argued, crossing her legs under her. Today she wore faded jeans and a fuzzy pink sweater that showed the neck of a white T-shirt underneath. She looked very fresh and pretty. I mean, look at the rules about uninitiated witches making certain kinds of magick. Why does someone need some strangers stamp of approval just to do what comes naturally? I hate that.
But what comes naturally, Justine? I asked. I was enjoying this back-and-forth discussion. I hardly ever got to have this kind of interesting, stimulating conversation. Among the witches I knew, we all just accepted the councils laws. And other people, like Morgan, dont really know enough about Wiccan history or the witch community to be able to fully form an opinion. What kind of magick did you make as a child? That was natural, wasnt it? But was it always good? I thought about my own spell on poor Mrs. Wilkie. I dont believe either people or witches are always born naturally good, I went on. I think that as people get older and more educated, they learn to channel their goodness, to identify it, and to express it. But I think witches, and people, too, are born with a capacity for light or dark. Its up to their parents, their community, their teachers to educate them to see the consistent benefit of good and the consistent detriment of darkness. The council and its laws only serve to reinforce that, to provide guidelines, to help people learn where the boundaries are.
But is that all they do? asked Justine, and we were off again. For the next hour we went back and forth, discussing the various merits of laws versus no laws, outer-determined behavior versus inner-determined behavior. It was really fun, though at times I was uncomfortably reminded of the scientists who had figured out how to make an atom bomb. They had seemed to divorce the idea of how to create it from the idea of what its natural consequences would be. They hadnt wanted to see it. In a way, I felt that Justine was doing the same thing: closing her eyes to the potentially destructive effects of her actions.
But we talked on. Justine was sure of herself, sure of her own intelligence and attractiveness, and didnt let insecurity get in the way of her speaking her mind. For a moment I wondered if I should be concerned that I was enjoying her company so much, but then thought, Nah. I knew I loved Morgan more than anything. I was doing my job, being a Seeker, finding out what made Justine tick. It was all for the report.
I had talked to Morgan the night before, but it had been kind of stilted. Hearing her voice had brought back my unhappiness about my parents, about how much I missed Morgan herself, about how much I didnt want to be here. Widows Vale seemed so far away from here, both physically and emotionally.
I was wonderingare you interested in seeing my library? Justine asked.
Yes, I said immediately, aware that this was a show of trust on her part. For my part, a Seeker never turns down an invitation into someones private world. Its often where I find the answers to my questions.
She led me through a tidy, well-stocked kitchen to a small door in a hallway. She passed her hands over the door frame: dispelling protection spells. Once opened, the door led to steps going downward. I immediately became alert and quickly cast my senses to see if anything unpleasant was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.
Its underground, Justine explained, turning on the electric lights. She didnt seem to pick up on my momentary suspicion, or maybe she was just being polite. That helps keep it safe from fire. I think the people who owned this house before me used the cellar as storage, as a wine cellar. I enlarged it and waterproofed it.
At the bottom of the stairs she flicked another light switch, and I blinked, looking around. Justines library was enormous. We were in one good-sized room, but doorways led to at least two other rooms I could see. The floor was made of rough wooden planks, and the walls were a crude stucco. But most bare surfaces had been painted with stylized designs of runes, hexes, words, and even some sigils I didnt know the names of. I picked up on a general air of light, of comfort and pleasure and curiosity. If dark magick had been worked here, I couldnt feel it.
This is incredible, I said, walking slowly into the room. Despite the lack of windows, the room looked open and inviting. A fireplace took up one wall, and by gauging the rooms above, I figured its chimney must run through the kitchen fireplaces. Big, cozy armchairs were strewn here and there. There were closed glass cases, regular bookshelves, wooden tables piled with stacked books. Unlike Selenes personal library, this one wasnt cold or intimidating. It was all laid out neatly and beautifully organized.
This is quite an accomplishment for someone so young, I said, wandering into the next room. I saw that it led to another room, and that there was a lavatory off to one side.
Im twenty-four, Justine said without artifice. I inherited a lot of this from my mother when she moved into a smaller house. Most of what Ive contributed myself are the books on the use of the stars positions to aid or hinder magick. Its another interest of mine.
I ran my fingers lightly over books spines, skimming titles. There were one or two books on the dark uses of magick, but that was to be expected of almost any witchs library. The vast majority of the books were legitimate and nonthreatening. Or as nonthreatening as a manual of how to make magick can be. Just about anything can be misused.
My father would have loved seeing this, I murmured, remembering the Da of my childhood, surrounded by books in his library at home. Candles burned down around him and still he read, late into the night. Hed often impressed on us kids how precious books were, learning was.
Is he no longer living? Justine asked sympathetically.
I bit back a snide retort about the definition of living and answered instead, No, hes alive. Hes at the B and B in Foxton.
Why dont you bring him next time, then? Justine said. Id be happy for him to see my library. Is he a Seeker, too?
No, I said, unable to suppress a quick dry laugh. No, but hes in bad shape. My mum died at Yule, and hes taken it hard. I was surprised to hear myself confiding in her. I tend to be very closemouthed and dont often share my personal life with anyone, besides Sky and Morgan.
Oh, how awful, Justine said. Maybe the library will be a good distraction for him.
Yes, maybe youre right, I said, meeting her brown eyes.
This place is nice, I said, looking around the small restaurant. It was Monday night, and Justine had recommended the Turtledove as a likely place for Da and me to have a decent meal. Across from me, the etched lines of his face thrown into relief by the flickering firelight, Da nodded without enthusiasm. Since I had gotten back to the B and B this afternoon, he had been alternately withdrawn, confrontational, and wheedling. I figured a nice meal out would help stave off my overwhelming desire to shake him.
Not that I felt that way every second. Every once in a while, I would get a glimpse of the old da, the one I knew and recognized. It was there when he almost smiled at a joke I made, when his eyes lit with momentary interest or intelligence. It was those moments, few and far between, that had kept me going, kept me reaching out to him. Somewhere inside this bitter husk was a man Id known as my father. I needed to reach him somehow.
More bread? I asked, holding out the basket. Da shook his head. Hed barely picked at his beef stew. I was going to give him another five minutes and then finish it off for him.
Son, he said, startling me, I appreciate what youre doing. I do. I even think youre right, most of the time. But you just cant understand what Im going through. Ive been trying and trying, but I need to talk to Fiona. I need to see her. Even if the bith dearc saps my strength or my life force. I just cant see any kind of existence where I wouldnt need your mother.
His hand shook as he reached for his wineglass, and he downed the rest of his drink. This was the most direct hed been with me since wed left the cabin, and it took me a moment to find my footing.
Youre rightI dont understand what its like to lose your mùirn beatha dàn, not after youve been married and had children, made a life together, I said. But I know that even with that tragedy, it doesnt make sense for you to kill yourself by continuing to contact the shadow world. Mum wouldnt have wanted it that way.
Da was silent, his clothes hanging on his thin frame.
Da, do you believe that Mum loved you?
His head jerked up, and he met my eyes.
Of course. I know she did.
I know she did, too, I agreed. She loved you more than anything on this earth. But do you think that she would be doing this if you had died? Or would she be doing something different?
Da looked taken aback by my question and sat in silence for a moment.
Changing the subject, giving him time to think, I repeated Justine Courceaus offer of letting Da see her library. Its quite amazing, I said. I think youd be very interested in it. Come with me tomorrow and see it.
Maybe I will, Da muttered, tapping his fork against the tablecloth.
It wasnt a total victory, but maybe it was a step forward. I sighed and decided to let it go for the present.
On Tuesday, I called Kennet and gave him a preliminary report. I had more background checks to do on Justine and more interviewing, but so far I hadnt turned up anything of great alarm.
No, Hunter, you misunderstand, Kennet said patiently. Everything shes doing is of great alarm. Under no circumstances should any witch have written lists of living things true names. Surely you see that?
Yes, I said, starting to feel testy. I understand that. I agree. Its just that you made Justine sound like a power-hungry rebel, and I dont see that in her. I feel its more a matter of education. Justines quite intelligent and not unreasonable. I feel that she needs reeducation; she needs to be made to understand why what shes doing is wrong. Once she understands, I think shell see the wisdom in destroying her lists.
Hunter, she needs to be shut down, Kennet said strongly. Her reeducation can come later. Your job is to stop her, now, by any means necessary.
I tried to keep my voice level. I thought my job was to investigate, make a report, and then have the council make a judgment. Have you already decided this matter?
No, no, of course not, Kennet said, backpedaling at the implication of my words. I just dont want you to be swayed by this witch, thats all.
Have you known me to be easily swayed in the past, by man or woman? I asked with deceptive mildness. Deceptive to most people, but not to Kennet. He knew me very well and could probably tell I was working hard to keep anger out of my voice.
No, Hunter, he said, sounding calmer. No. Im sure we can trust your judgment in this matter. Just keep reporting back, all right?
Of course, I said. Thats my job. After I hung up, I sat on my twin bed for a long time, just thinking.
That afternoon I brought Daniel to Justines cottage. As before, she was welcoming, and though I detected her shock at my fathers haggard appearance, she made no mention of it.
Come in, come in, she said. Its gotten a little warmer, hasnt it? I think maybe spring is on its way.
Inside, Da instinctively headed for the fireplace and stood before the cheerful flames, holding out his hands. Back at the cabin, it had been as though the fire hadnt existed, so I was interested to see his reaction to this one.
Are you warm enough, Mr. Niall? Justine asked. I know it can be chilly in these stone cottages.
Im fine, thanks, said Da, turning his back to the fire but keeping his hands behind him, toward the heat.
Justine and I talked for a while, and she told us stories about growing up with Avalen Courceau, who sounded like an intimidating figure. But Justine spoke of her with love and acceptance, and again I was impressed by her maturity and kindness. She got even Da to smile at the story of when she had built a house of cards out of some important indexed notes her mother had made. Apparently sparks had flown for days. Literally.
Mr. Niall, said Justine, I wonder if you could do me a favor? She gave him a charming smile, sincere and without guile. I dont get many opportunities to try new magick no one around here knows Im a witch, and I want to keep it that way. I was wondering if you would consent to be a guinea pig for a spell Ive just learned.
Da looked concerned but couldnt think of any reason not to and didnt want to refuse in the face of her hospitality. What for?
She smiled again. Its a healing spell.
Da shrugged. As you wish.
Its all right with me, I said, and she turned to give me a teasing look.
Its not your decision, she pointed out. Feeling like an overbearing clod, I sat down on the sofa, relaxing against the plump pillows, waiting for some cat to realize I was there.
She had Da sit down in a comfortable chair, then cast a circle around it, using twelve large amethysts. She invoked the Goddess and the God and dedicated her circle to them. Then she stood behind my father and gently laid her fingertips against his temples on either side. As soon as she started on the forms and opening chants, I realized I wasnt familiar with it.
It went on for more than an hour. At different times Justine touched my fathers neck, the back of his head, his forehead, the base of his throat, his temples. Da seemed patient, tired, disinterested. I myself felt almost hypnotized by the warm crackling of the fire, the deeply felt purring of the apricot-colored cat who had finally settled on me, the soothing tones of Justines low-voiced singing and chanting.
At last I recognized the closing notes, the forms of completion, and I sat up straighter. Slowly Justine took her hands away from Da and stood back, seeming drained and peaceful. I looked at Da. He met my eyes. Was it my imagination, or was there more life in them?
He turned to find Justine. I feel better, he said, sounding reluctant to admit it. Thanks.
She smiled. I hope it helped. I found it in a book I was cataloging last month, and Ive been anxious to try it. Thank you for allowing me. She took a deep breath. Now, how about some tea? Im hungry.
Ten minutes later, watching Da tuck into his cake with the faint signs of an actual appetite, I smiled my gratitude to Justine. She smiled back. To me, this healing was one more indication that Justine was just misguided, overenthusiastic in her quest for knowledge, but basically good-hearted. There was no way someone like Selene could have performed that healing rite, not without my picking up on her dark underlying motives. Id felt none of that with Justine. She seemed genuinely what she was.
My son told me how impressed he was with your library, Da said.
Would you like to see it? Justine asked naturally, and my father nodded.
I felt something like gladness insidethis was the first time he had called me his son, in front of another person, since wed been reunited. It felt good.
12. Trust
Today is Saturday, but I feel so incredibly bizarre that I need to come up with a whole new name for this day. Saturday doesnt cover it.
Last night, to take my mind off things, I agreed to go ice-skating with Mary K., Aunt Eileen, and Paula at the big outdoor rink outside of Taunton. I hadnt seen Eileen and Paula in agesIve been busy saving my grades, and theyve been fixing up their new house.
It was one of the last times we could go skatingspring is coming, and soon they wont be able to maintain the outdoor ice. I felt like a little kid, lacing my skates. Mary K. bought a caramel apple. Eileen and Paula are happy and light-hearted, and all four of us were being incredibly silly and goofy. I felt happy, and I didnt think about Hunter more than about a thousand times, so that was good.