Moira nodded, wide-eyed. "Like I did Keady," she whispered back.
"You helped save us," said her mother, and hugged her, and Moira hugged her back.
"Where did it come from?" Moira asked as they walked home along the country road. The moon was shining brightly, lighting their way. After the smoke had left, people had sat for an hour, recovering. Wine and water had washed the taste from their mouths, but no one had been able to eat anything. Finally, when her mum had been sure they were safe, the coven had disbanded.
"I'm not positive, but I think it was from Ealltuinn," answered her mother. She sighed. Moira waited for her to say something about Ian, but she didn't.
"That smoke-I was so scared," Moira said in a rush. "I was glad you had so much power. And at the same time, it was scary-I've never seen you like that."
Her mother licked her lips and brushed her bangs off her forehead. "Magick transforms everyone," she said.
Moira followed her mother home through the darkness, not sure what to say.
4. Morgan
Morgan looked up as Keady Dove let herself in through the green wooden gate that bordered Morgan's front yard.
" 'Lo," she said, brushing some hair out of her eyes. This morning, after Moira had left for her animal-work class in town, Morgan had paced the house restlessly. Last night it had taken all of her will not to show Moira how shocked and disturbed she had been by the black smoke. They had walked home in the darkness, with Morgan casting her senses, silently repeating ward-evil spells, trying to sound normal as her daughter asked her difficult questions to which she had no answers. She'd been awake all night thinking about what had happened and trying to make sense of everything. She was almost positive the smoke had come from Ealltuinn-she just couldn't think of any other possibility. And very likely it was connected to the pouch and to the vision. She had underestimated Lilith Delaney. Lilith was practicing dark magick against Belwicket, and Morgan had to find out why-and soon. Thankfully at least Moira had been able to sleep last night and hadn't been awoken by nightmares. Part of Morgan had wanted to keep Moira home with her today, not let her go to class. But Tess and Vita had met her at the bus stop, and it was broad daylight….
Morgan smiled as Keady sat cross-legged on the sun- warmed bricks of the front path. She and Keady had been friends at least ten years, and in the six months since Colm's death Keady had been popping in to tutor Moira more regularly. Morgan was glad Moira had such a gifted teacher.
"I'm interrupting," said Keady, watching as Morgan pulled some small weeds from around her mums. They were starting to bloom; she would have some perfect orange, yellow, and rust-colored blooms by Samhain.
"Not at all. I wanted to talk to you after last night."
"Yes. Your garden's looking lovely, by the way."
"Thank you," said Morgan. She paused and sat back on her heels, knowing Keady hadn't come to discuss her garden. "Moira gave me energy last night."
"I saw, just barely," said Keady. "I was helping Will, who was really in a bad way. But I thought I saw her. She's showing quite a lot of promise."
Morgan nodded, quietly proud, then turned back to business. "I couldn't trace the spell last night. It had to have been Ealltuinn, though." She shook her head. "It's been so peaceful here for twenty years. Now to have an enemy who would go this far-" She couldn't express how furious she was at having her quiet life, her innocent daughter, her coven attacked in this way. Hadn't she already been through all that? Why was this happening again? She looked up at Keady. "How bad do you think it was?" "It was bad," Keady said bluntly. "Another minute or two and Will, maybe Susan, maybe Lizzie Hawkstone, wouldn't have recovered. That stuff was foul, poisonous."
"It was terrible," Morgan agreed. "Thank the Goddess I was able to fight it." She met Keady's even gaze. "Is this about Belwicket or about me?"
Keady knew what Morgan meant. "You're a big stumbling block," she pointed out calmly. "Lilith's been pushing Ealltuinn, trying to become more and more powerful. She can't have a bunch of goody-goody Woodbanes getting in the way."
"I'm not the high priestess," Morgan pointed out, standing up and brushing off her knees.
"No, but it's common knowledge that the coven leaders want you to be. And you're Morgan Byrne! Everyone knows yours is the power to reckon with."
Morgan shook her head, about to howl with frustration. "Why can't power be a good thing? Long ago my power made me a target. Now it seems to be happening again. I can't bear it." Her fist clenched her trowel at her side, small clumps of earth dropping onto her shoe.
"What has a front has a back," said Keady. "And the bigger the front, the bigger the back. Everything must be balanced, good and evil, light and dark. Even if we don't want it to be."
Morgan looked at the sky, clear blue and sunny. So normal looking. This same sun was shining on someone who even now might be planning how best to defeat her, destroy her coven. A weight settled on her shoulders, the dread of what might be in store for her already taking its toll. She turned to Keady. "By that logic, if I turned dark and started doing terrible things, the world would be a better place because of the good that would erupt to balance it."
Keady gave a wry smile. "Let's not test that theory."
"No. Let's decide what we're going to do," Morgan said. "We need a plan. If the coven is under siege, we need to know how to protect it. Come on in and have some tea." She started walking toward the back, and Keady followed. "You know, on Friday, Katrina and I found a hex pouch in the garden."
"Really? Goddess. Had it harmed anything?"
"All the car-" Morgan stopped dead, staring at what lay smack in the middle of the path. Her mouth went dry in an instant.
"Oops, sorry," Keady said, bumping into her. "Problem?"
Morgan felt her friend leaning around to see. She didn't know what to think, what to do. "Uh…"
"What's that, then? Is that a chunk of quartz?"
"It's, uh…" It was like drowning, drowning in a sea of emotions.
Frowning slightly, Keady moved around Morgan and bent to pick it up.
"Wait!" Morgan put out a hand to stop Keady. Slowly she knelt and reached out to the stone. It was the size of a small apple, pale pink, translucent, clouded, and shot through with flaws. "It's morganite," she said, her voice sounding strangled.
Reluctantly, as if trying not to be burned, Morgan turned the stone this way and that until she found a flat side. Then she felt faint as her world swam and shifted sideways. The morganite had an image on it. Oh, Goddess, oh, Goddess. Morgan squinted, but the image was unrecognizable, just as that face in the window had been the other night. It was a person, maybe even a man. But who, dammit? She studied the face, her heart pounding, trying to make out the features, but they were too indistinct. She rubbed her finger over the image as if to clear away dirt, but it made no difference.
"Who is that?" Keady asked quietly.
"You see it, too?"
"Not clearly-oh, wait-it's gone."
It was true. As Morgan watched, the image faded from the stone, leaving Morgan holding an empty piece of quartz. Morganite quartz. One of the first gifts Hunter had ever given her had been a beautiful piece of morganite, and inside it Hunter had spelled a picture of his heart's desire: a picture of Morgan. That was how he had told her he loved her. Now here she was, sixteen years after his death, finding morganite on her garden path. And not just morganite- spelled morganite. Horrified, Morgan felt a sob rise in her throat, but she held it back. Her hands were shaking, and she felt every nerve in her body come alive. What was happening to her? Who was taunting her? Was it really Lilith? Why would she go to such lengths just because Morgan had disagreed with her publicly about a few spells?