Sam joined Charlie, who had uttered a quick spell that seemed to make the heavy, tinkling fixture a little easier to lift. They gingerly moved it away from Ruth, taking great pains not to further her injury. Brigid started running her hands over Ruth, obviously trying to do some healing work, but Evelyn came and took her shoulder.
"Go start the car, Brigid," she said. "She needs to go to the hospital. Charlie, can you carry her?"
Charlie nodded and ran for his jacket.
"I think we should call the council," Sam said. "This had gone far enough."
"I know a Seeker," I found myself saying. "If I call him, he could be here in a few hours."
Evelyn looked at Sam and looked in my direction.
"I think you'd better leave," she said. "We'll take her to the hospital."
Charlie came back just in time to catch the tail end of this conversation. His eyebrows rose, and his naturally cheerful expression faded into one of surprised disgust. I had the feeling if the situation hadn't been so dire, he might have spoken up on my behalf. But this wasn't the time. He bent down and picked Ruth up in a cradle lift. She quietly wept in pain and fear, and I heard him reassuring her as he took her through the hall to the door.
Sam, thunderstruck at our dismissal, stood there staring at his mother. She turned on her heel and followed Charlie down the hall. Sam put his arm around my shoulders and led me through the front door. We stood on the porch and watched as Brigid pulled out and sped the car down the street and out of sight. Sam quietly pulled a key from his pocked and locked the door.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he said.
"I'm fine," I assured him. "What about you?"
"It could have killed her," he said, instead of answering what I had asked. "Thank the Goddess Charlie's quick."
We got into his car. For a moment Sam just sat in the driver's seat, hands on the steering wheel, looking too tense to put the key in the ignition.
"Evelyn seemed angry when I mentioned calling a Seeker," I said. "Why?"
"Not everyone likes the council," he answered, his expression dark. I got the feeling this was a regular bone of contention. "Some people are offended that one group of witches should take it upon themselves to govern other witches, to pass judgment. I think the council has done some very good work. We could use their help."
He sighed, beat a little rhythm onto the steering wheel, then started the car. I looked out at the people walking along the beach path and heading to the pubs for the evening. Apparently some people in this town had normal lives.
"Charlie and Brigid told me about Oona," I said. Sam glanced over at me.
"They did?" he said. "Good. I was wondering how to explain what just happened."
"Stuff like that has happened before?" I asked.
"This was the worst so far," he replied. "But the phenomena have been getting more serious just lately. I certainly seems my mother wants to wait until someone gets killed before she'll ask for help."
His undercurrent of rage was palpable, so I fell silent and let him have a few minutes to think things over.
"I'm sorry, Alisa," he said just as we pulled into his driveway. "I'm sorry about the way your grandmother treated you. I don't even know what to say about it."
"It's like you said, I guess," I answered, trying to be diplomatic. "It's just strange to have me show up."
"Still, she has no right to behave like that. I just want you to know that she and I feel very differently about your being here. You can stay with me as long as you like—and as long as your dads lets you."
This triggered my memory. Twenty-four hours… the watch sigil on my neck. I had to call Morgan.
"Oh," I said, as casually as I could, "would it be all right if I used your phone? I just need to check in. It's long distance, but I'll be quick."
"Take your time," Sam said. "I'm sure your dad would like an update."
A strange expression crossed his face, but I decided not to try and read into it too much. For all I knew, Sam had had been onto me from the first.
"I leave for work pretty early in the morning," he said. "Sleep in. I'll leave you the keys so you can come and go as you please. I'll be home around five. We'll do something different tomorrow night, like see a movie."
"Thanks," I said. "That would be great."
Astrophe and Mandu pounced on us the moment we stepped into the door. Sam fed them, then went upstairs. I took the phone into the kitchen for some privacy. I got lucky. Morgan answered, not Mary K.
"It's me," I said. "Alisa. I know I'm almost out of time, but I made it."
"Oh, hi…," she said casually. I heard her quickly moving into a quieter place and shutting a door. "Alisa," she said in a low voice, "how are you? Is everything okay?"
"Um," I said hesitantly. "A little weird, actually. My uncle is great. My grandmother looks at me like I'm a escaped convict that is hiding in her house. And there's some kind of killer ghost on the loose…"
"What?"
I told her the grim tales as it unfolded so far.
"You were right," she said. "Something weird was definitely going on up there. Do you think this is what the dreams were about?"
"I don't know," I said as Astrophe leapt into my lap. "I'm going to have to stay here a few more days to find out. I figure I have spring break week, at least. So, how bad is it down there?"
"Well," she said with a sigh, "your dad is upset. Frantic, actually. He called here about an hour after I got back." My stomach turned. "I also told Hunter what happened," she continued. "He understands what you're doing, but he's really worried, too. He'll be glad to know you've called."
I had to promise to call back soon before she let me get off the phone. You can always get out of something your parents try to make you do, but when a powerful witch puts a sigil on your neck, you're pretty much stuck.
A while later, after I had settled down for the night on Sam's couch and was flipping through my mother's Book of Shadows in preparation for going to sleep, the phone rang. After a minute Sam called down for me to pick up the phone.
"Hey," said a voice. "Sorry to be calling so late."
It was Charlie. He sounded tired, and I could hear him climbing into bed as he spoke. Thank God he couldn't see me—I was grinning like an idiot. Charlie was calling me!
"I just thought you might like to know," he went on, "Ruth's arm is broken, but she is okay otherwise. Banged up and upset, of course, but intact."
"I–I'm glad," I said, stuttering in my excitement. "I mean, I'm glad that she'll be all right."
"What about you?" he asked.
"What about me? It didn't land on me."
"The chandelier didn't, no," he said. "But that whole dinner was kind of rough."
"Oh. I'm fine," I said, pretty unconvincingly. "No problem."
"I guess you haven't realized yet that it's pretty much useless to lie to witches," he said.
Actually, that much I had figured out on my own. I knew that most other witches could read me like a book. But what surprised me was that I could read him as well, and his concern amazed me—it was deep. Deep to the point that I could feel it all the way across the town, physically, as if a warm embrace could travel down the telephone line. "It wasn't the welcome I wanted," I confessed. "But it was nice that you were there. Thanks for coming."
He let the line go quiet for a moment. He didn't try to tell me that it would all be fine, because it didn't appear that it would be.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.