"It's an independent council," David said softly. "It's designed to represent all the modern clans—there are hundreds and hundreds who aren't affiliated with any of the seven houses. Its main function is to monitor and sometimes punish the illegitimate use of magick… magick used to gain power over others, for example, or to interfere with others without their knowledge or agreement. Magick used to harm."
I frowned. "So they're sort of like the Wicca police."
David raised his eyebrows. "There are those who see the council that way, certainly."
"How do they know if someone is using magick for the wrong reasons?" I asked. Behind us the girls had left the book aisle and were now oohing and aahing over the many beautiful handmade candles the store stocked, I waited to hear them come across the penis-shaped candles.
"Oh my God," whispered one, and I grinned.
"There are witches within the council who specifically look for people like that," David explained. "We call them Seekers. It's their job to investigate claims of dark magick or misuse of power."
"Seekers?" I said.
"Yeah. Wait a second. I can tell you more about them." David ducked out from the counter and headed down the book aisle. He paused for a moment in front of a shelf, then chose an old, worn volume and pulled it out. He was already thumbing through pages when he got back to me. "Here," he said. "Listen to this."
I stared at him as he began to read, sipping my tea.
"'I am sad to say that there are those who do not agree with the wisdom and purpose of the High Council. Some clans exist who wish to remain separate, secretive, and insulated from their peers. Certainly no one could fault a clan for guarding private knowledge. We all agree that a clan's spells, history, and rituals are their province alone. But we have seen in these modern times that it is wise to join together, to share as much as we can, to create a society in which we can fully participate and celebrate with others of our own kind. This is the purpose of the International Community of Witches. "
He paused for a moment and glanced at me.
"That sounds like a good thing," I said.
"Yes," he said, but there was an odd tone in his voice. His eyes flashed back down to the page. "'One cannot help but question those who refuse to participate, who work against this goal and use magick that the council has decried. In the past such apostasy was the undoing of countless numbers. There is little strength in being alone and little joy in unsanctified magick. That is why we have Seekers. "
There was something about the way he said seekers that gave me a chill. "And what do they do, exactly?" I pressed.
"'Seekers are council members who have been selected to find witches who have strayed beyond our bounds, " he continued. "'If they discover witches who are actively working against the council, working to harm themselves or others, then they have been given license to take action against them. It is better that we police our own, from within, before the rest of the world chooses once again to police us from without. " David closed the book and looked at me again. "Those are the words of Birgit Fallon O'Roark. She was high priestess of the High Council from the 1820s to the 1860s."
My tea was starting to get cold. I finished it all in a big gulp and placed the mug on the counter. "What do the Seekers do if they find the witches working against the council?" I asked.
"Usually they put binding spells on them," said David, looking troubled. His voice sounded strained, as if the words themselves were painful to say. "So they can't use their magick anymore. There are things you can do, certain herbs or minerals that you can make them ingest…and then can no longer get in touch with their inner magick."
A cold wind seemed to pass over me. My stomach twisted. "Is that bad?" I asked.
"It's very bad," said David emphatically. "To be magickal and not be able to use your magick—it's like suffocating. Like being buried alive. It's enough to make someone lose their mind."
I thought of Maeve and Angus, living in America for years, renouncing their powers. How had they borne it? What had it done to them? I thought about my suffocating dream—how intolerable it had been. Was that what their everyday life had been like for them without Wicca?
"But if you're abusing your power, a Seeker will come for you sooner or later," said David, shaking his head, almost as if to himself. His face seemed older, lined with memories didn't think I wanted to know about.
"Hmmm." Outside it was dark. I wondered who Cal was meeting and if he would call me later. I wondered if Hunter was really from the council. He seemed more like one of the bad witches the council would send a Seeker to track down.
I wondered if Maeve and the rest of Belwicket had been successful in renouncing the dark side. Would the dark side allow itself to be renounced?
"Is there a dark side?" I said the words tentatively, and felt David draw back.
"Oh, yes," he said softly. "Yes, there's a dark side."
I swallowed, thinking of Cal. "Someone told me there was no dark side—that all of Wicca was a circle and everything was connected to each other, all part of the same thing. That would mean there aren't two different sides, like light and dark."
"That's true, too." David sounded thoughtful. "We say bright and dark when talking about magick used for good and magick used for bad, or evil—to give it a common name."
"So they're two different things?" I pressed.
Slowly David ran his finger around the circular rim of his cup. "Yes. They are different but not opposite. Often they're right next to each other, very similar. It has to do with philosophy and how people interpret actions. It has to do with the spirit of the magick, with will and intent." He glanced up at me and smiled. "It's very complicated. That's why we have to study our whole lifetimes."
"But can you say that someone is on the dark side and that they're evil and you should stay away from them?"
Again David looked troubled. "You could. But it wouldn't be the whole picture. Are there witches who use magick for the wrong purposes? Yes. Are there witches who deliberately hurt others for their own gain? Yes. Should some witches be stopped? Yes. But it usually isn't that simple."
It seemed that nothing in Wicca was simple, I thought. "Well, I'd better get home," I said, pushing my mug across the counter. "Thanks for the talk. And for the tea."
"It was my pleasure," said David. "Please come back any time you need to talk. Sometimes Alyce and I… feel concerned about you."
"Me?" I asked. "Why?"
A slight smile turned up the corners of David's mouth. "Because you're in the middle of becoming who you will be," he said gently. "It isn't going to be easy. You may need help. So feel free to ask us for it."
"Thanks," I said again, feeling reassured but still not quite understanding what he meant. With a little wave I left the warmth of Practical Magick and went out to my car. My tires slid a tiny bit as I backed up, but soon I was on the road heading back to Widow's Vale, my headlights illuminating each unique, magickal snowflake.
CHAPTER 14
Scry
Litha, 1996
Early this morning Uncle Beck and I sat on the edge of the cliff and watched the sun come up, my first sunrise as a witch, and he told me the truth about Mum and Dad. In all the years since they disappeared, I have fought back tears at every turn, telling myself not to give in to childish grief.
But today the tears came, and ti's strange, because now I am supposed to be a man. Still, I wept. I wept for them, but mostly for me—for all the anger I have waste. I know now that Uncle Beck had good reasons for keeping the truth from me, that Mum and Dad had to disappear in order to protect me, Linden, and Alwyn. That he's heard from them only once, two years ago. That he hasn't even ever tried to scry for them.