“Oh, thank you very much,” I muttered. “You know how much I love dancing. Especially alone.”
But he was already moving past me to have a quick whispered conference with Sky, which did nothing to improve my mood. Then he headed off toward the stage. The tall African American man pointed at Hunter with a knowing grin, then made his way down from the stage to talk to him. I had to admit, it was impressive seeing how at ease Hunter was with so many people. I knew I could never extract information from strangers like that.
Sky drifted back toward me, and I had the feeling that Hunter had told her to look out for me. My irritation deepened. Luckily I was relieved of the need to make awkward conversation by Robbie, who came up to us looking sweaty and exhausted. “Man, that girl can move,” he said, waving at his partner. He blinked in surprise as a waitress approached him with a glass of wine balanced on a round tray.
“The lady over there”—she indicated a tall woman with long, ebony hair who was dressed entirely in leather—“sends it to you with her compliments.”
“Uh, tell her thanks, would you?” Robbie sounded flustered. “But I don’t drink.”
“I’ll tell her,” the waitress said reluctantly. “But if you don’t want to offend her—and I’d advise you not to—you won’t send the wine back.”
Robbie smiled weakly at the woman in leather and took the glass of wine.
I gave a low whistle. “You’re getting a lot of attention tonight.” I peeked covertly at Bree and was glad to see that she hadn’t missed the exchange with Leather Woman, either. She’d stopped even pretending to flirt with the guys around her and was just standing there, looking sulky.
Robbie, however, didn’t look pleased. “It’s a little freaky. Two witches have asked me out tonight.”
“You have something against us?” I teased him.
“Not you,” he said seriously. “But apart from the fact that I’m in love with Bree, I want a relationship of equals, not someone who can put spells on me without my even knowing.”
I winced. When I was just getting acquainted with Wicca, I’d given Robbie a spelled potion to help heal his acne, which had been really out of control. It had done the job—in fact, it had more than done the job; it had gone so far as to correct his terrible eyesight—but Robbie had been upset with me for doing magick on him without telling him.
“What is his problem?” Sky said suddenly. Her eyes were on Raven and the long-haired guy. “Is he a complete exhibitionist?”
I looked, too. The guy had taken off his shirt. His body was thin but looked hard and well muscled.
Raven sent an amused glance toward Sky, as if to say, Do you believe this? Her dancing partner put his hands on her butt and pulled her close, and then pinwheels of colored light were raining down around them, and Raven was laughing, trying to catch one in her hand. The guy traced a sign in the air, and three of them rested on her palm.
I couldn’t suppress a gasp. I was half appalled at his recklessness, half delighted by his clever, beautiful magick.
“Oh, man,” Robbie muttered. “What is that?”
“It’s showy and irresponsible, that’s what it is,” Sky said, sounding angry. “That cocky little bugger. Anyone could be watching him.”
Raven and the guy were dancing close now, grinding pelvises. “That’s enough,” Sky said, and strode toward them. I saw her take Raven’s arm and say something in her ear.
“Maybe I’d better go find Bree,” Robbie said with a sigh. “If she hasn’t already left with someone else.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” I told him.
“You don’t think so?” Robbie’s smile was sad as he moved away. It made me want to shake Bree. She really liked Robbie. Why couldn’t she just let things happen with him?
I headed for the café and got a Diet Coke. Then I looked around for Hunter. Nowhere in sight. I sighed, too, and tried not to feel too much like a wallflower.
A woman in a short black dress sauntered up to me. “Don’t be so self-conscious, chica,” she said. She was beautiful, with coffee-colored skin and black hair that framed her face in waves. “All this energy spent thinking you are not beautiful enough, not good enough. It’s a waste. You must take all this healing energy you have and make a salve for your own heart, no? Life is too short to be so hard on yourself.”
I stood there, blinking stupidly. She was gazing into my eyes, into my soul, and I felt stripped, vulnerable.
“Um…excuse me,” I said. “I have to go.”
I shut down my senses and bolted for a door marked Exit. I didn’t plan to go far. I just needed to be out of there, away from all that magick for a few minutes.
I thought the door would lead to the street. Instead I found myself in a small courtyard planted with skinny oak saplings. I wasn’t alone. A man with short-cropped, silver-flecked dark hair stood in the yard, staring up at a big square of the night sky. Even with my senses shut down I felt a surge of energy—deep, vital energy, not the fractured, hectic kind that ruled inside. Whether it was from the man or the giant orange moon, I couldn’t be sure.
I sat down on a bench at the edge of the courtyard and gazed up at the moon, wondering what he was seeing. As I looked, I felt my frazzled nerve endings begin to relax. The moon was so eternal, so familiar in this place where everything else was so strange. I breathed deeply, and peace began to creep back into my body.
“The moon is our anchor,” the man said without looking at me.
Ordinarily I would have been startled by these bizarre words coming from a total stranger. But at that moment my only thought was, Yes. I didn’t feel the need to respond aloud, and he didn’t seem to expect me to.
I stared at the moon, letting it anchor me.
4. Glamor
July 15, 1981
I write this on the ferry crossing the Irish Sea. I’m part of a delegation from Liathach, bound for western Ireland, to the very village where I was born, Ballynigel. We’re going, as clansmen, to pay a visit to the Belwicket coven. I don’t remember any of them at all. I’m very curious to see a Woodbane coven that forswore evil more than a hundred years ago. Bright magick and dark, the Woodbanes have never feared either. How Belwicket could have given up fully half of our ancient, essential powers, I can’t fathom. But that is what we’re going to observe. And we’ll see whether there is anything in Ballynigel strong enough to resist us. We can’t—won’t—risk opposition. If we find it…there has been talk of the dark wave.
Mother stands near the bow with Greer, probably gossiping about the bairns. The two grannies are both mad for little Iona, and a sweet thing she is, though every bit as much trouble as her brother, Kyle. I take it as a good sign that Greer invited me to be part of this mission. Finally she is admitting me to Liathach’s inner circle of leaders.
Grania, of course, didn’t want me to go. “You can’t leave me with two little ones to care for all on my own,” she kept telling me. But I can and I have. The dream is still with me, and I long to see Ballynigel again.
— Neimhidh
I gazed up at the winter moon. I could feel my own power coursing through me, untainted by questions of whether I’d misused it or whether I was worth the sacrifice of Cal’s life. It was as if my world had silently, subtly slipped into perfect balance. A few yards away from me the dark-haired man stood silent. He hadn’t looked at me once, but I felt a strange connection between us, as sure and strong as if he’d thrown me a rope.
Where are you? Hunter’s witch message almost made me jump. Reluctantly I stood up. The man nodded, as if acknowledging that I was leaving, but didn’t say a word. I returned to the club, feeling I’d just been given a strange but lovely gift.