Hunter hesitated, then said, “Do you know anything about Amyranth?”
“Brujas!” she said, shivering. “They worship darkness. You don’t want to go near them.”
“We think they may have Killian,” Hunter said.
Something unreadable flickered in her eyes. Then she scrawled a name on a piece of paper and handed it to Hunter. “She once had the misfortune to be the lover of Amyranth’s leader. She has been trapped in terror ever since. I don’t know if she’ll talk to you, but you can try. Show her my card.”
“Thank you,” Hunter said. We turned to go.
“There’s something you’ve been putting off, Seeker,” the woman said.
Hunter turned back to face her, startled. “Do it now,” she urged him. “Do not hesitate. Otherwise you may be too late. Comprende?”
I was baffled, but Hunter’s eyes widened. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“Wait, I have something that might help you.” The woman disappeared into the back room and reappeared with what looked like a large seedpod. “You know what to do with this?” she asked.
“Yes,” Hunter said again. His face had turned pale. “Thank you.”
“Hasta luego, chica,” she called to me as we left.
“What was that all about?” I asked when we were outside.
Hunter took my arm and steered me west, toward the Hudson River. “She’s befriended Killian,” he explained. “She’s been trying to help him. I’m fairly certain she’s the one who told him to hide out in that building in Chelsea. The church across the street was called Our Lady of Guadalupe.”
“But what was she talking about at the end?”
He was silent for almost a block. Then he said, “She’s very empathic. She can pick up on people’s deep fears and worries.”
“I noticed,” I said, thinking back to what she’d said to me at the club. “And?”
“And…she picked up on my worry about my mum and dad. She gave me a safe way to contact them—I think. With this.” He stared at the seedpod.
“How does it work?” I asked.
“Indirectly, as I understand it,” Hunter said. “I’ve never used one of these before—they’re rather a specialty of Latin witches. It’s supposed to work something like a message in a bottle, but with a very low-level finding spell on it that will seek out the person you’re trying to reach. The spell is so slight that with any luck, it will slip right under the radar of anyone who might be watching. The drawback is that with such a weak spell, the message could take a while to reach its destination—and anything might happen to it along the way.” He sucked in a deep breath. “But I have to try it.”
“Are you sure you should?” I asked hesitantly. “I mean, the council told you to leave it to them. I know I’m not the council’s biggest fan in general, but maybe they’re right about this. It seems too dangerous for you to do on your own.”
“They’ve had no success,” Hunter said. “And I’ve been getting the feeling that time is short—that I’ve got to contact Mum and Dad now. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t dare wait any longer and find out too late that I was right.”
The wind rose as we drew closer to the river. “This way,” Hunter said, leading me to a small commercial pier. There was a metal gate with a lock on the pier, but Hunter spelled it, and it popped open. We walked through the gate and past a bunch of industrial drums and crates.
Hunter knelt by the water, a smooth sheet of lead gray. Carefully he opened the pod. I watched as he drew sigils that glittered softly on the air before disappearing into the pod. He sang a long Gaelic chant, something unknown to me. Then he closed the pod and wrapped it in more spells. Finally he threw the pod into the water. We watched it bob on the surface for a few moments. I gasped as it finally sank beneath a swell.
Hunter reached out and took my hand, and I tried to give him my strength. “I’ve done what I can,” he said. “Now I just have to wait—and hope.”
10. Signs
December 14, 1981
Greer has been dead a month now of a heart attack, and if anyone suspects that I helped to hasten her death, they dare not accuse me. Liathach is mine now. Andarra, Grania’s father, doesn’t quite understand that. He’s still grieving. He came to tonight’s circle and chanted the opening invocation to the Goddess and the God. His eyes filled with confusion when I thanked him for it and took over. I had to. He wanted to spend the entire night sending on Greer’s soul, which I believe we took care of immediately after her death. She had so many dealings with the taibhs, the dark spirits. Doesn’t he know they came for her in the end?
It’s almost Yule, the time of the return of the God, an appropriate time for me to take over Liathach. Greer was a power, I’ll grant, but she wasn’t bold enough. She was always worrying about the council. It’s time to turn the tables. Now Liathach will come into its own, and the council will fear us.
— Neimhidh
Hunter came back to the apartment with me, then went off to look for Ciaran’s former lover. Bree had gone for a pedicure, and Robbie and I were alone in the apartment. I was glad—I wanted to try to work things out with him. But to my dismay, when I came back into the living room after using the bathroom, he was pulling on his coat.
“Where are you going?” I asked, feeling forlorn.
“Museum of Natural History,” Robbie said briefly. He’d barely spoken to me since our argument.
“Want company?”
“Not really.”
“Okay,” I said, trying not to show how much that hurt. “But Robbie? I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said yesterday. I need to talk to you about it. Um—can I walk you to the subway?”
After a moment he nodded, and I put my coat back on. We walked up to Twenty-third Street. Robbie’s plan was to take the bus across to Eighth Avenue, where he could pick up the C train. The wide cross street was jammed with buses, trucks, and taxis. An ambulance and a fire truck, sirens wailing, tried to make their way through the gridlock. Talking—or rather, hearing—was almost impossible.
“Want to stop in a coffee shop?” I shouted over the commotion. “My treat.”
“Not really,” Robbie said again. He stepped forward as a bus pulled up to the stop.
I gritted my teeth. “Okay,” I said. “We’ll talk on the bus.”
Fortunately the bus wasn’t too crowded. We got a seat together. “I want to apologize to you,” I said. “You were right—I shouldn’t have messed with that woman.”
Robbie looked straight ahead. He was still angry.
“This being a blood witch and having power, it’s still kind of new to me,” I went on. “I’m not saying that excuses what I did. Only that I’m still getting used to it, still trying to figure out when I should and shouldn’t use magick. And the truth is, the power is a kick. I get tempted to use it when I shouldn’t. So I’m probably going to screw up now and then.”
Robbie folded his arms across his chest. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
I sighed. “You’re not making this easy.”
He looked at me coldly. “You can make it easy. Just cast a spell on me.”
I winced. “Robbie, listen. I promise I’ll be more careful. I give you my word that I’m going to be more conscious and try not to abuse my power. And I’ll never put you in a bad position again.”
Robbie shut his eyes. When he opened them, the anger was gone and in its place was sorrow. “Morgan, I’m not trying to punish you. I just don’t know how to trust you anymore,” he said. “I don’t know how we can be friends. I don’t want to lose you, but—” He raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “You’ve got all the power. The playing field is nowhere near level. That makes it pretty hard to have a real friendship.”