"Anyway, Morgan," Eoife went on, "one of the first things I want to teach you is a simple concealment spell. It doesn't literally make you invisible, of course, but most people, animals, and even witches won't notice you're there."
I nodded. "Like a you-see-me-not spell."
Eoife looked startled. "You do this already?"
"Um, only occasionally," I answered, wondering if I had just stepped on more Wiccan toes. "You know, if I don't… uh want to be seen."
Eoife shot Hunter a glance, and he sort of threw up his hands, as if I were an unhousebroken dog he'd tried his best with.
"Raven, I'm talking about last night!" Sky interrupted us loudly.
We all felt embarrassed to be hearing this conversation. Then Eoife focused again.
"This spell should get you into and out of most situations," she said. "If Ciaran knows you quite well, if he's familiar with your vibrations and your aura, he may be able to pick up on it, but not right away."
"He knows some of that, if not all," I said thinking back to New York. He'd tried to steal my magick, so yeah, he probably knew my aura.
"We'll have to do the best we can," Eoife said. "Ciaran is quite adept at knowing one intimately, only to use that knowledge to destroy. He enjoys destruction in and of itself, not just the dividends. He is the opposite of a creator."
I hated hearing this about Ciaran but knew immediately it was true. What had happened in his life to make him that way? How much of his legacy had he passed on to me, to Killian, to his other children? Knowing he was evil the way I did, how could I still remember our odd connection with longing? What did that say about me?
Eoife moved to sit cross-legged in front if the fire crackling in Hunter's fireplace. Gesturing to me to sit across from her, she said, "We'll bolster this with other spells of protection and attack. With your inherent strength, I feel it will work. If you learn it perfectly."
Sitting across from Eoife on the floor, I tried to clear my mind and relax my breathing. I could still hear Sky in the kitchen, her voice rising and falling in anger. I tried to block it out. Hunter stayed where he was, in his chair, but I felt his eyes on me unwaveringly.
“We’ll start with the words,” said Eoife, starting to murmur them.
Leaning closer, I let my mind expand to envelop the softly spoken words. I loved spellcraft. There were so many different kinds: ones using crystals, oils, incenses, herbs. Ones using only words, ones combining words and gestures, ones made only within a circle and some you could make anywhere. This one has three parts: words, runes written in the air, and the casting of a glamour.
Ten minutes later I had the words and runes down pat and felt confident I would remember them. The casting of a glamour I would have to work on. It was odd, but unlike school learning, which could sometimes go in me like a stone sinking in water, never to be seen again—magick seemed quite different. I had never forgotten a spell. Once learned it, it seemed part of the fabric of my being, another colored thread that made up the complete Morgan.
I almost jumped when Sky raised her voice again.
"No," she shouted, "That's not what I'm saying. You're twisting my words."
I really didn't want to hear anymore and had stood up to ask if we could go work in the circle room, when Sky stalked out of the kitchen, her black eyes shooting sparks of anger. She saw us sitting there, and her gaze lasered in on me.
"He is your brother," she said acidly. "You brought him here. He's a total bastard, and Raven's thick enough not to see it. But she should know better—after all, he's Woodbane." This last was spit at me, and I felt the blood drain from my face as she grabbed her black leather jacket and slammed out of the house. Outside I heard the roar of Sky's car as she peeled out, braked squealing.
It was true: I had brought Killian here, and Raven was making a fool of herself over him, with his enthusiastic help. But I had brought him here at the council's wishes and for the greater good. I sat there feeling mortified, not knowing what to say. Hunter looked tight-lipped and withdrawn, but Eoife was calm as she arranged the tea things on their tray.
"This is all part of life, my dear," she said in her soft Scottish accent. "Even pain and embarrassment are part of it."
With a heavy sigh Hunter reached over and patted my knee.
"Sky's just really angry. Not every Woodbane is evil," he said. "Your mother wasn't. Belwicket wasn't. I'm half Woodbane. There are many, many good Woodbane out there."
"But not Killian, right?" I asked somberly. "And not Ciaran."
Neither Hunter nor Eoife spoke, and silently I reached for my coat and let myself out of that house. Once again my heritage was catching up with me.
11. Shades of Grey
I thank you for trying to intercede on my behalf, but it had been decided, Brother Colin. I have been remanded to the Abbey at Habenstadt, in Prussia. I expected such action to be taken against me once I confessed my many sinful thoughts to Father Benedict. And how can I question the fairness, the wisdom of such a judgment? There, away from the source of my temptation, among the contemplatives, perhaps God will show me a path through my tormented mind. As for Nuala, she has disappeared. I pray that God watches over her.
—Brother Sinestus Tor, to Colin, April 1769.
That night, at Bree's house, Raven didn't show for the circle. I'd arrived on time, and I was wearing cargo pants and a soft, thin sweater. After I'd gotten home from Hunter's, I'd felt depressed and confused, so I had cleaned the kitchen, done some laundry, scooped Dagda's box, and promised myself to try not to look so scruffy all the time.
After Bree opened the door, the first person I saw was Sky. I was still stinging from her Woodbane comment but at the same time I knew she was in love with Raven and getting burned and was not in a good frame of mind.
"I think we are all here," Hunter said. His voice sounded both rough and melodious, and for no good reason I suddenly remembered how his voice sounded in my ear, talking to me when we were making out, hearing his breath coming hard and fast because of what we were doing. I felt myself blush and turned away from him, taking a long time to dump my coat on the pile in the hallway.
"Let's go into the den," Bree said. "It's more comfy in there."
"Actually," Hunter said, "I checked it out and it's full of electronics and furniture. Do you have someplace more bare?"
Which is how we ended up sitting in a chalk circle on the flagstones at one end of her enclosed pool. Above us we could see the stars, wavering and dim through the glass enclosure. The furniture had been stacked and covered; the water was still and dark. The vibrations were very different here, surrounded by water and stone and glass.
"While we wait to see if Raven is coming," said Hunter, "let's go around the circle and get a quick rundown of what you've been up to, what you've been studying, any questions you have, and so on. We should be preparing for Imbolic, also. It's a time to think about new beginnings." He nodded to Matt, who was sitting to his right.
Matt was starting to look more like himself after weeks and weeks of looking both odd and somewhat disheveled. Tonight he was wearing a dark red velour sweatshirt and black cords, and his thick black hair was neatly cut, and brushed smoothly back. "I'm okay. I've been doing some general studying of correspondences—especially how to work with crystals."
"Good," Hunter said. "Next."
Thalia sat up straighter. I didn't know Thalia all that well; like Alisa, she had been part of the original Kithic coven, led by Sky, before they had absorbed the six of us who had been in the Cirrus coven, originally led by Cal. "I've been crazed with a science project. Other than that I've been reading a book about candle-burning rituals. It's really interesting."