"Meanma," Hunter corrected.
"Whatever. And he wasn't evil, either!"
"Did he lead it or did you?" Hunter asked.
Nonplussed, I thought back. "He did."
"Did you go as deep as with me?" he pressed. "Did you see childhood and future, wake and sleep?"
"I'm not sure," I admitted, trying to think.
"You need to be sure," David told me, almost impatiently.
I looked at all three of them. They seemed to be waiting for my response, and I had nothing to give them. I loved Cal, and he loved me. It was ridiculous to think he might be evil.
A picture of the little room in the pool house suddenly rose in front of my mind's eye. I pushed it angrily away. My mind seized on something else.
"I heard Bree and Raven talking about how you were teaching them about the dark side," I accused Sky.
"Of course I was," she countered, black eyes flashing. "So they could recognize it and fight it! It seems someone should have been teaching you the same thing!"
I stood again, overwhelmed with anger. "Thanks for the tea," I told David. "I'm glad you're not dead," I growled at Hunter. Then I stalked out the back door.
As I stomped down the alley and back to my car, my brain pounded with possibilities. Hunter wasn't dead! It was a huge relief, and waves of thankfulness washed over me. And he wasn't evil! Just—misguided. Unfortunately, Sky was still a total bitch and leading Bree and Raven and the rest of Kithic into what seemed to me to be a gray area.
But first things first. Hunter was alive!
CHAPTER 12
The Bigger Picture
October 2000
Alwyn's initiation went well. I was so proud of her, giving her answers in her clear, high voice. She will grow up Wyndemkell and, we hope, marry within Vinneag, Uncle Beck's coven.
For one moment, as Uncle Beck pressed his athame to her eye and commanded her to step forward, I wondered if her life would be better had she not been born a witch. She would be just a fourteen-year-old girl, giggling with her friends, getting a crush on a boy. As it is, she's spent the last six years memorizing the history of the clans, tables of correspondences, rituals and rites; going to spell-making classes; studying astronomy, herbs, and a thousand other things along with her regular schoolwork. She's missed school functions and friends' birthdays. And she lost her parents when she was only four.
Is it better for her this way? Would Linden still be alive if he hadn't been a witch? I know our lives would have held less pain if we had been born just human.
But it's pointless to consider. One cannot escape one's destiny—if you hide from it, it will find you. If you deny it, it will kill you. A witch I was born, and my family, too, and witches we'll always be, and give thanks for it.
— Giomanach
When I got home, I found a note saying that Cal had stopped by while I was gone. I ran upstairs, brought the phone into my room, and called Cal's house. He answered right away.
"Morgan! Where have you been? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I said, the familiar feeling of warmth coming over me at the sound of his voice. "I don't know what was wrong with me this morning. I just felt so weird."
"I was worried about you. Where did you go?"
"To Practical Magick. And you'll never guess who I saw there."
There was silence on Cal's end, and I felt his sudden alertness. "Who?"
"Hunter Niall," I announced. I pictured Cal's eyes widening, his face showing astonishment. I smiled, wishing I could see him.
"What do you mean?" Cal asked.
"I mean he's alive," I said. "I saw him."
"Where has he been all this time?" Cal asked, sounding almost offended.
"Actually, I didn't ask," I said. "I guess he's been with Sky. She found him that night and brought him home."
"So he wasn't dead," Cal repeated. "He went over that cliff with an athame in his neck, and he wasn't dead."
"No. Aren't you thrilled?" I said. "The weight of this has been so awful. I couldn't believe I had done something so terrible."
"Even though he was killing me," Cal said flatly. "Putting a braigh on me. Trying to take me to the council so they could turn me inside out." I heard the bitterness in his voice.
"No, of course not," I said, taken aback. "I'm glad I stopped him from doing that. We won that battle. I don't regret that at all. But I thought I had killed someone, and it was going to be a shadow over my life forever. I'm really, really glad that it won't."
"It's like you've forgotten that he was trying to kill me," Cal said, his tone sharpening. "Do you remember what my wrists looked like afterward? Like hamburger. I'm going to have scars for the rest of my life."
"I know, I know," I said. "I'm sorry. He was—more than wrong. I'm glad I stopped him. But I'm also glad I didn't kill him."
"Did you talk to him?"
"Yes." I was getting so weirded out by how Cal sounded that I decided not to tell him about the tath menima— mamena—whatever. "I also saw his charming cousin, Sky, and we got into an argument. As usual."
Cal laughed without humor, then was quiet. What was he thinking? I felt the need to meld with his mind again, to feel his inner self. But I wanted to lead it myself this time.
That was a disturbing thought. Did I have doubts about Cal?
"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly.
"That I want to see you soon," I said. I felt guilty at the partial truth.
"I wanted to see you today," he said. "I asked you, and you said no, and then you went to Practical Magick. You weren't even home when I came by to see if you were all right."
"I'm really sorry," I said. "I just—this morning I felt so strange. I think I was having a panic attack. I wasn't thinking clearly and just wanted to get out of here. But I'm sorry—I didn't mean to blow you off."
"There were people here who wanted to meet you," he said, sounding slightly mollified.
All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. "I'm sorry," I said again. "I just wasn't up to it today."
He sighed, and I pictured him running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "I've got to do a bunch of stuff tonight, but we've got a circle tomorrow at Ethan's house. So I'll see you there, if not during the day."
"Okay," I said. "Give me a call if you can get away."
"All right. I missed you today. And I'm worried about Hunter. I think he's psycho, and I was relieved when I thought he couldn't hurt either of us anymore."
I felt a sudden twinge of alarm. I hadn't even considered that I'd have to talk to Hunter and make sure he didn't try to go after Cal again. We'd have to find a way to straighten out all these—misunderstandings or whatever they were— without violence.
"I have to go. I'll see you soon." Cal made a kissing noise into the phone and hung up.
I sat on my bed, musing. When I talked to Cal, I hated the whole idea of Hunter. But today, when Hunter and I were doing the tath thing, he'd seemed okay.
I sighed. I felt like a weather vane, blowing this way and that, depending on the wind.
After dinner Mary K. and I were in the kitchen, cleaning up. Doing mundane things like working in the kitchen felt a little surreal after my conversation with Cal.
For the hundredth time I thought, Hunter is alive! I was so happy. Not that the world necessarily needed Hunter in it, but now I didn't have his death on my conscience. He was alive, and it felt like a thousand days of sunshine, which was bizarre, considering how I couldn't stand him.
"Any plans for tonight?" I asked Mary K.
"Bakker's picking me up," she answered. "We're going to Jaycee's." She made a face. "Can't you talk to Mom and Dad, Morgan? They still say that I can't go out on dates by myself, I mean, just me and Bakker. We always have to be with other people if it's at night."