I felt his eyes on me, taking in the white nightgown and my hair brushed out and hanging loose, and I knew that Mary K. had been right. I could feel Hunters senses reaching out to me, wanting me, drawing me toward him.
Robbie must have sensed the electricity between us. Im going to hang in the kitchen, he said. But if Bree ever gets out of the bathroom, Im first.
Neither Hunter nor I said anything until he left. Then Hunter came close. You look beautiful, he said in a husky voice.
Thanks. Umyou too, I said in my eloquent way. My hands, ridiculously, trembled a little, and I folded my arms so he wouldnt notice. I debated whether or not to tell him what Robbie and I had been planning. But before Id worked up my nerve, he spoke in a rush.
Do you think I could possibly persuade you to change places with Robbie for a little while tonight? he asked. I heard the anxiety in his voice, the fear that I might say no, and I loved him so, so much.
I already asked him, I said, my heart hammering.
Hunter blew out his breath and grinned. His eyes danced with emerald green light. Great minds he said, and bent to kiss me. Just then the bathroom door swung open and a cloud of steam floated out.
Whoops, Bree said.
Hunter and I pulled apart. Robbie, I called, grateful for the steam that hid my red cheeks. The bathrooms yours.
An hour later we were all tucked in. I was too excited to even consider sleep. Periodically I extended my senses, identifying the patterns of the people in the apartment. Bree was sleeping, and so were Raven and Sky. Hunter and Robbie were both wide awake.
Finally it was one A.M. Moving quietly so as not to wake Bree and Raven, I made my way out of the guest room. In the living room a single candle flickered. Hunter and Robbie were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, waiting for me.
Bree, Robbie whispered. Is she
Asleep, I told him. Be careful you dont startle her. Any sign of Mr. Warren?
Hunter shook his head. Not yet.
I was keenly aware of his being just a few feet from me. My heart began to beat faster, and that funny anticipation feelingthat mix of pleasure with just a thread of uncertaintybegan to hum through me. I waited till Robbie had gone, and then I sat beside Hunter.
I was afraid you wouldnt come, he said. He reached out and closed one hand over mine. I thought you might fall asleep.
Almost did, I teased.
Did you really? he asked.
No, I admitted, suddenly feeling vulnerable and unsure. It occurred to me again that Hunter had never told me he loved me, though Id told him I loved him. Was it just a guy thing, not being able to say the words? Or did he not feel the same way? Hunter was honest to a fault, and I was certain that he cared about me. But maybe it wasnt love, and thats why hed never said the words. Could Bree be right about love? Maybe Hunter was about to break my heart and hand it back to me in little pieces.
Maybe I shouldnt be here now, I thought, feeling a tickle of panic. Maybe I should just go back to my own bed, not get close to anything I cant handle.
Then Hunter turned over my hand and began to gently stroke the underside of my arm. His touch sent shivers of delight racing through me.
You were like a vision, you know, he said, his voice soft and low. Standing there in the hall in that innocent gown, your hair shining, holding a toothbrush of all things. I just wanted to run away with you.
Really? I whispered. Where to?
I dont know. Didnt think it through that far. He brushed back a strand of hair from my face. You know, I never had second thoughts about becoming a Seeker. It seemed necessary, fated. But lately His voice trailed off on a note of longing.
Lately what?
I wish there were a way to take a break from it. I wish I could just steal away with you for a while.
My heart was pounding like a drum. I fought desperately to keep things grounded, realistic. My parents probably wouldnt be too keen on that idea, I said.
Right. Parents, he said. They probably wouldnt approve of this, either. He bent forward and kissed the side of my neck.
Chills raced through me. The energy flowing between us felt so strong and right and good. I didnt want to walk away from it. Not anymore. Gently I lifted his head so that I could put my mouth on his. He wrapped his arms around me.
At first our kisses were soft, searching, as if we were just getting to know each other. Hunters hands slid along my nightgown, caressing my waist, my side. Every inch of my body was alight with desire. Everything in me streamed toward Hunter. I slid my hand under his shirt, felt the smooth skin of his chest over a hard sheath of muscle. Gently he pushed me backward so we were lying on the foldout bed. He pulled back for a moment, and I saw his face in the light from the window, intent as always. But now, this time, he was totally focused on me. His lips came down on mine again, harder now, more urgent.
Then, without warning, Hunter broke away.
Whats wrong? I asked, breathless.
Dont you sense him?
And then I did. It was Mr. Warren, coming down the hall.
He cant! I groaned. Its not fair.
But he is. Hunter held me close with one arm. He ran his other hand along my face and kissed me gently. Wed better call it a night.
No! Cant we do a spell to make him think hes dropped his keys and has to go back down to the garage, or
Hunter swatted at me lightly. You know better. Come on, now. Go give Bree and Robbie some warning.
I got up with a groan. I could hear Mr. Warrens footsteps coming down the hallway. Okay. I leaned forward and gave Hunter one last kiss. To be continued, I promised.
5. Gifts of the Mage
July 16, 1981
Weve been in Ballynigel less than twenty-four hours, and everything has changed. I know now why I kept dreaming of this place, why Ive felt drawn back here, as though there were an invisible string connecting it to my heart.
I first saw Maeve Riordan yesterday. She was not among those who welcomed our boat. She was off gathering moss for a poultice and didnt come back into the village until we were in a meeting with Belwickets elders. We were in the house of Mackenna, their high priestess, beginning to ask those questions whose answers would determine Belwickets fate, though they didnt realize it, poor sods. And in walks Mackennas daughter, a girl of nineteen with a mud-streaked skirt and a basket overflowing with drippy moss.
I had the strangest sensation that Id waited twenty-two years to see her. It was as though my life were slightly unreal until that moment. She seemed feya luminous creatureand at the same time utterly familiar, as if Id known and loved her my whole life.
Everything about Maeve enchants me. The light that dances in her eyes, the rhythm of her speech, the sound of her laughter, the grace of her hands, and, of course, the magick that sparkles around her. She has a great deal of raw poweras much as Selene, I think. Selene was a different package, though. Shed been honing her magick for years, had studied, sacrificed, undergone a Great Trial, even. In Maeve its simply a matter of her birthright. She takes it for granted, doesnt yet realize how much power courses through her.
Of course, there is the matter of Belwicket having forsworn the old Woodbane ways. Still, Im certain well get past that. She feels the same way about me that I do about herI can see it in her eyes. I will show Maeve how to realize her true power. Ill convince her that my way is the right one.
So this is what love feels like, the love that lasts for all time. When it happens, there are no questions, no doubts. I know that now. And I know the dress on the lineit can only have been hers.
Neimhidh
Friday morning, I woke to unfamiliar sounds filtering through the guest room doorMr. Warren making coffee while having a heated phone conversation about depositions.
On the mattress next to me Bree stretched and opened her eyes. Sleep well? she asked with a drowsy smile.
I blushed. Yeah. How about you?
She shrugged. Fine, she said in a neutral voice.
Ravens eyes shot open, ringed with black eye makeup she hadnt washed off. What time is it? she demanded.
Just after nine-thirty, Bree answered. We should get moving. I want to go to Divas this morning. Its in SoHo. You guys should come, tootheyve got great clothes, and theyre really cheap.
I could feel that Hunter and Sky werent in the apartment; they must have already left for their meeting with the mysterious contact Hunter had met last night. Uhokay, I agreed. Maybe I could find an outfit that was slightly more appropriate for the city.
Raven shook her head. Ill pass. Not my kind of place, she said.
Okay. Bree got up, took her robe from its hook, and went out into the kitchen.
Raven rubbed her temples. I feel like hell. I need a shower, she said, and padded off to the bathroom.
I got dressed, my thoughts on Hunter and how good it had felt to be with him last night, how I wished it could have lasted longer.
I quickly plaited my hair into a braid and glanced in the mirror on the closet door. In a black turtleneck and jeans, I was presentable. I went out into the living room, where I found Robbie folding up the sofa bed. He was dressed in jeans and a blue plaid flannel shirt, and his hair was still mussed from sleep.
Morning, Robbie said. Hunter left a note for you. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me.
Morgan
Ill meet you back at the apartment by 10:30.
Hunter
Of course, the thing that I noticed was that hed signed it Hunter. Not: Love, Hunter or even Yours, Hunter. Just plain Hunter. Very romantic.
Mr. Warren rushed out of the apartment, briefcase in hand, and Bree came into the living room. Whats up?
I showed her Hunters note. Bree made a face. I wanted to go the coffee shop downstairs and get some breakfast. But I guess well wait.
So we waited. Raven emerged from the guest room in yet another skintight black outfit. She seemed a little annoyed that Sky was still out. Bree and Robbie werent talking, I noticed, and Robbie was doing his best to pretend he was okay about it. He headed out, saying a little too casually that he wanted to do some exploring on his own. First, though, we agreed that wed all meet up for lunch at a deli on the Upper West Side at two that afternoon.
Ten-thirty came and went. By eleven Hunter and Sky still hadnt come back, and Bree and I were dying to get out, get food, do something besides sit around the apartment. And I was getting worried.
Finally I sent Hunter a witch message. But after ten minutes he hadnt responded. My pulse rate picked up a little. Was he okay?
Well? Raven asked.
Nothing, I said, trying to keep my voice calmer than I felt.
That boy has really got to join the twenty-first century and get a cell phone, Bree said.
I sent another, more emphatic witch message to Hunter, trying to determine if he was okay.
After a moment I got a response from Sky: Were fine. That was it. Hunter didnt bother to reply at all. Again I couldnt help a surge of irritation. Maybe I wasnt being rational about this, but it sure felt like I was being shut out.
I just heard from Sky, I told the others. Theyre okay. But I dont think theyre going to be back for a while.
Then lets shop, Bree said.
Raven yawned. Im going back to bed, she announced. I am not a morning person.
Half an hour and two pastries later, Bree and I stood on the cast-iron steps of Divas on West Broadway. Id been there once before, but even if you lived in Widows Vale and had never been to the city, you knew about Divas. It was a mecca for the young and broke.
Bree led the way inside the huge warehouse of a store. Rap blared from the speakers. There were stacks of T-shirts in every color of the rainbow; pants in reds and blues and petal pinks; sweatshirts in olive green, neon yellow, and baby blue.
Bree started poking through the vintage racks and found a mans long-sleeved black shirt with gray pearl buttons. Maybe I should buy this for Robbie, she mused. Unlike the rest of us, Bree had a generous allowance.
I couldnt keep my mouth shut. Bree, do you or do you not like that boy?
She looked at me, startled. I told you. Im completely crazy about him.
Well, then please stop treating him like crap! I said. Its painful to watch.
Bree put the shirt back and calmly moved on to a rack of trendier clothing. If you want to know the truth, she said, its Robbie who should be treating me better.
What? I stared at her.
At the club last night, she said. He danced and flirted with all those women.
Three, and they all came on to him, I argued.
Dont blame them. Its Robbies responsibility to say no, said Bree. If he really wants to be with me, why did he encourage them?
Maybe because he wasnt getting any encouragement from you? I suggested. Come on, Bree. You had your own little entourage over by the café. What kind of message did that send? Besides, you know none of those women mattered. Robbie doesnt care about anyone except you. Cant you see that?
Bree held up a slinky black cocktail dress. I know Robbies trying, she acknowledged. But so am I. She frowned, put the dress back, and moved on to a rack of pants. This is just the way relationships go.
Only because you steer them that way.
Bree sighed. I dont want to talk about this right now. Im hitting the dressing room. Are you going to try anything on?
Ill meet you in there, I told her. Obviously the conversation was over.
I quickly scooped up a couple of V-necked T-shirts and a few camisoles. Camisoles were my official choice for underwear. Having nothing to put in the cups, Id given up on bras.
There was a line for the dressing rooms, so I shouted for Bree. She yelled back that I should share her room.
I found Bree wearing a stretchy bronze-colored top with black knit hip-hugger pants. She looked amazing. Think Robbie will like this? she asked.
I groaned and slid down onto the floor of the tiny cubicle. I decided to try one more time. Listen, I know for a fact that Robbie loves you. And you obviously care about him. Why cant you trust that and stop trying to undermine all the good stuff? Why cant you just let yourself love him and be happy?
Bree rolled her eyes. Because, she said with absolute certainty, in real life things just dont work that way, Morgan.
Didnt they? I wondered. I thought again about Brees mom walking out on her and her dad. That had to be the root of all her warped ideas about love.
Or did Bree really know something I didnt?
Twenty minutes later Bree and I left Divas, each of us carrying a neon pink shopping bag. Bree had bought the bronze-top outfit, a chartreuse day pack, and a black T-shirt for Robbie. Id gotten a cobalt blue tee and a lilac camisole, which pretty much shot my clothing budget.
Whats next? I asked, cheered by our retail therapy.
Bree looked thoughtful. Theres a fabulous shoe store right around the corner, and theres a shop close by that specializes in African jewelry. Theres also an aromatherapy place off Wooster, she added.
Lets check that out.
We hadnt gone more than a block when my witch senses began to tug at me. Bree, can we go this way? I asked, pointing down Broome Street.
She shrugged good-naturedly. Why not?
I followed my senses the way a spider follows its own silken thread and found myself in an alley off Broome Street. Hanging over a narrow doorway at the end of the alley was a square white banner with a green wheel printed on it. In the center of the green wheel was a purple pentagram.
The Wheel of the Year, Bree said. The diagram for the eight Wiccan sabbats.
The feel of magick grew stronger with every step we took. When we reached the shop, a sign on the black cast-iron door made me smile: Gifts of the Mage: Specializing in Books of Magick and the Occult. And beneath it in smaller letters: Welcome, Friends.
I pushed open the door, causing a brass bell to ring, and stepped into a cool, dim, high-ceilinged space. I didnt see the sort of general Wiccan supplies that Practical Magick stocked, but a wall of cabinets behind the counter held essential oils in bottles that looked positively ancient. A deep balcony ran around the walls halfway up, with more bookshelves and shabby armchairs in alcoves.
Bree walked toward mahogany shelves stacked with tarot decks. Oh, they have a reproduction of that gorgeous Italian deck I saw in the Pierpont Morgan Library, she said.
My witch senses were still prickling. Was there something here that I was meant to find? I glanced up at the black metal staircase that led to the balcony floor.
Alyce recommended a book on scrying, I told Bree, but she didnt have it in stock. Maybe I can find it here. Already absorbed in tarot decks, Bree mumbled an okay.
Following the store directory, I climbed the stairs to the balcony and began to search for the divination section. The scent of old leather tickled my nose. I could almost feel centuries of spells whispering to me. Find me, invoke me. Im yours, Im made for your power. I passed sections labeled Oracles and Emanations, Amulets and Talismans. It felt good be among so many books filled with so much knowledge.
I rounded the end of the aisle and came face-to-face with a large section labeled Divination. Just beyond it, at the end of this next aisle, I saw a man seated in an armchair next to a potted tree of some sort. I stopped, confused by the feeling of familiarity that swept over me.
Then I realized he was the same man whod been in the courtyard of the club the night before. He was reading a book, looking as relaxed as if he were in his own living room. He wore a tweed jacket over a white shirt and faded jeans. Cropped salt-and-pepper hair softened a hawkish weathered face.
He glanced up, showing me deep-set brown eyes, and acknowledged me with a courteous nod. We meet again, he said.
Do you work here? I blurted.
No. He seemed surprised by the idea. I teach myth and folklore at Columbia. This is just one of my more pleasant sources for reference materials. He had a faint accent, which I hadnt noticed before. Irish or Scottish, maybeI wasnt sure. He marked his place in the book and closed it. Was that your first time at the club, last night? he asked.
Yes. Sometimes I am such a brilliant conversationalist, its really overwhelming. Why was I so tongue-tied around this man? I asked myself. It certainly wasnt a crush thing. He had to be nearly as old as my dad. And yet I felt an affinity with him, a familiarity, an attraction.
He regarded me with curiosity. What did you think of it?
I thought about the beautiful illusion Killian had created for Raven.
It was a little intense, but also cool, I said. Id never seen witches use their magick just for pleasure.
Personally, thats what Ive always liked best about magickusing it to create beauty and pleasure in the midst of the trials life forces us to undergo.
He made a sign over the potted tree, and I watched its leaves fade, shrivel, and fall off. From the soil a green shoot grew. It was as if I were watching a movie on fast-forward. No natural plant could grow so quickly, but in the space of a minute or so a lilac bush grew against the trunk of the dead tree, and pale lilac blossoms opened, filling the air with sweet fragrance.
It was incredibly beautiful. It was also a little unnerving. It broke all the laws of nature. What would happen to the lilac? It was an outdoor plant that needed a winters frost. It couldnt survive in a pot in a store. And I couldnt help feeling a little sorry for the healthy tree that had died for a witchs pleasure.
And what would Hunter think of this? I wondered. Hed probably consider it an irresponsible, not to mention indiscreet, use of magick. Something the council would frown on.
The world can always use more beauty, you know, the man said, as if hed read my doubts. Adding beauty to the world is never irresponsible.
I didnt know how to answer. I suddenly felt very, very young and ignorant.
He seemed to sense my discomfort. So, you came here looking for a book?
Yes. I was enormously relieved to remember I had a concrete reason for being there. Im looking for a book on scrying by Devin Dhualach.
A good name, that, the man said. Devin means bard, you know, so hopefully he can write. And Dhualach is an old Irish name that comes down to us from the Druids. If hes true to his ancestors, he may indeed have something useful to say about scrying.
IIll just look at these shelves under divination, I said, suddenly shy and nervous.
Good idea. The man smiled and went back to his book.
I found the Dhualach and sat down cross-legged on the floor to look through it. There were chapters on scrying with water, fire, mirrors, and luegs, scrying stones or crystals. There was even a macabre chapter on throwing bones, snake vertebrae being very highly recommended. There was nothing, thoughat least nothing I could see on a quick skimthat dealt with how to control the visions, how to fine-tune them so I could see exactly what I needed to see.
The man from the courtyard glanced up from his book. Not finding quite what youre looking for? he asked.
I hesitated, aware that I had to be careful. Yet it didnt feel like he was prying. It was more that he recognized me as another blood witch and sensed my power. It wasnt the first time that had happened. David Redstone had recognized what I was the first time he saw me, even before I knew myself.
I noticed that he was looking at me oddly, as if hed suddenly remembered something but wasnt sure whether or not he should mention it. Then he said, You scry with fire. It was an acknowledgment rather than a question.
I nodded, and my nervousness dropped away. It was as if Id just walked through a door into a room where we were acknowledged peers. Witch to witch. Strength to strength. Power conduit to power conduit.
The fire shows me things, but I feel like theyre often random. I dont know how to make it show me what Im looking for, I admitted.
Fire has a will of her own, he said. Fire is ravenous, fighting control, always seeking her own pleasure. To tame her is a lifetimes work, a matter of coaxing her to reveal what you want to know. I could show you, buthe looked at the shelves around us and smileda bookstore is hardly the place to play with fire.
Thats all right, I said, trying not to sound disappointed.
The lines around his eyes crinkled. Perhaps I can explain it through another medium. The principles the same.
He reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a piece of clear, polished crystal, cut in the shape of a crescent moon. It wasnt big, maybe three inches across, but its surface was faceted and etched with runes and magickal symbols.
He held the crystal out to me, and I took it in my right hand. The crystal was surprisingly light, as if it belonged to a slightly altered gravity.
I assume you know that you must ask the medium to give you a vision and that you must be specific. If what you want is to see your kitten tomorrow, specify tomorrow. I wondered how he knew I had a kitten. Then again, it wasnt uncommon for witches to have cats. In your minds eye picture that animal or person and send the image into the stone, asking it to accept it. His voice was soft, almost hypnotic. The key is you must then use your power to feel the energy in the crystalor the fireand send its light into the future, searching for what you seek. Thats really all there is to it.
You make it sound simple, I said.
Most things are, once theyre familiar. Why dont you practice with the crystal first? At the doubt in my eyes he said, Hold on to the crystal if you like. I need to go downstairs and check a few books for my syllabus. Just leave the crystal by the chair when youre done with it.
I sat there debating as he went down the stairs. I didnt want to try anything complicated in the store, but maybe I could do something simple. Id been worried about Mary K. ever since that awful night Selene kidnapped her, using her as the bait to get me. She didnt seem to remember anything about being at Selenes housein fact, she seemed to have believed the cover story we gave my parents, which was that she had gone to the movies by herself because she was depressed. But lately shed been having nightmares.
Id finally learned not to underestimate anything Selene did. Rational or not, there was a part of me that worried that though Selene was dead, her magick somehow still had a hold on my sister.
Holding the crystal, I silently asked the stone to give me the vision I sought. I pictured my sister at home, sitting at the table, and asked the crystal to accept that image. I nearly dropped the stone as Mary K.s image appeared inside it, tiny and perfect and three-dimensional. I watched her sitting at the table, then I asked the crystal to show her to me one week from now.
A stones energy pattern is as distinct as any persons or animals. The energy in this particular crystal was cool, glowing green-white, surging and swelling like a tide. For several breaths I let my energy ride its swells. Then I sent it surging into the future.
The image in the crescent changed. I saw Mary K. and her friend Jaycee walking out of the Widows Vale Cineplex. The vision was so perfect and detailed, I could even see the missing X in the marquee.
Then I felt something odd, almost like a cold draft on the back of my neck. I wheeled around in alarm. Was someone watching me? Even in a place frequented by other witches, I knew it wasnt a good idea for me to work magick in public. But I could see no one else on the balcony, and when I extended my senses, I couldnt feel anyone nearby.
Focusing on the crystal again, I realized I was starting to feel tired, which was pretty common whenever I moved into a new level of magick. Knowing I wouldnt be able to maintain the spell much longer, I thanked the stone for its help and withdrew my power from it. The glowing green-white light inside it faded, and the vision of Mary K. winked out.
Id done it. Id called up a vision and seen exactly what Id asked to see. This was the way magick was supposed to work.
I stood up. Then, feeling light-headed, I sat down in the chair. I was vaguely aware that Bree must be wondering where I was. I told myself Id just sit long enough for my pulse to return to normal. But a wave of exhaustion totaled me. My limbs felt heavy. My head began to nod. I couldnt keep my eyes from drifting closed.
Everything shadowed. The owl hovering over the stone table. Razor-sharp talons and golden eyes. The jackals high-pitched laughter. Venom dripping from the vipers fangs. The jaguar, claws unsheathed. Hunger that could never be sated. The weasel, crawling so close, its claws scrape the table. Candles burning low, casting shadows on the walls. Golden eyes, green eyes, glittering, intent. All of them fixed on the wolf cub. All of them waiting. The cubs terror, sharp and pungent. The red ruby set in the hilt of the athame, glowing with power. The eagles scream. And the silver wolf. The one they all wait for. It leaps to the table and opens its great jaws. The cub howls.
Are you all right? I felt someone gently shaking my shoulder.
My eyes flew open. The man from the courtyard was standing over me, his eyes shadowed with concern.
What happened? he asked.
II must have fallen asleep, I said, feeling shaken and embarrassed. I was soaked with sweat. I had a dream.
What sort of dream?
Just a bad one. Even though I felt sick and disoriented, I knew I couldnt risk saying more. Especially if the council was right about what the dream meant.
Dreams are funny, the man said thoughtfully. They have their own internal logic. They mix past and present and future and then some things that I believe belong to our collective unconscious. Things that may have nothing to do with you specifically.
Maybe this wasnt specific to me, I agreed. After all, no one had ever explained why I was the one who had this dream, but the fact that Id had it twice now unnerved me.
I drew in several deep breaths, then got to my feet. So far, so good; walking seemed possible. I glanced at my watch. It was after one. Id better find my friend, I said. Thanks for all your help.