Changeling

6. Forbidden Magick

There is a villager here named Nuala. Without the abbot’s permission I asked to meet her, as she was one of the few Wodebaynes who would meet my eyes.

I asked her frankly what devilry was at work here. She said no devilry at all since there was no devil. I cried out that that was heresy and that if she had no fear of the eternal fires of hell, how could she hope to join our Lord in heaven? Brother Colin, she laughed and said there was no heaven either. As I gasped in horror, she leaned close so I could smell heather and smoke in her hair. She said, “I’ll fill your cows udder if you kiss me.”

I turned and ran. Surely, Brother Colin, this Nuala Riordan is the devil’s own agent.

— Brother Sinestus Tor, to Colin, May 1768

By the time I left Suzanna Mearis’s house that night, she was still unconscious, and Alyce had finally made the decision to call an ambulance. Whatever had happened to Suzanna, she wasn’t waking up. We could only pray that the doctors at the local hospital might be able to offer some help.

I spent the rest of the night wide awake in my bed, terrified by every little sound I heard. Tuesday was another meaningless day: moving through classes, lunch, classes, without any of it registering. It was endless and foggy, clouded by my worries for Suzanna and the possibility of more dark presences to come, not to mention my misery over Hunter and the deep dread I had of failing Starlocket. Eleven days, I kept thinking miserably. I had eleven days before all of Starlocket was hit by something even stronger than what had happened to Suzanna.

When the final bell rang, I shuffled out with the other students, lost in thought.

“Hey, sis.” My head snapped up at the voice.

“Killian!” I couldn’t believe he had come back after yesterday. As I walked toward the stone bench, I felt a renewed sense of purpose: today I would get useful information out of him. Yes, I liked him. But I had to save Starlocket. And my time was running out.

An hour later I was sitting at a huge table in a local chain restaurant, feeling more relaxed than I had in days. We were a huge party, with emphasis on the word party. While I had been talking to Killian at school, he had managed to charm all the other Widow’s Vale High members of Kithic, including Alisa Soto, who had never joined us on the basement steps before. Now we were sitting at four tables pushed together, eating potato skins, fried mozzarella sticks, popcorn shrimp—every kind of appetizer on the menu.

Killian was the center of attention—right now he was in the middle of a story about magick gone wrong— “Oh, Goddess, and there I was in that field, with a flipping angry bull, and me in my robe and nothing else…”

Bree was laughing, leaning against Robbie. She hadn’t been impressed with Killian in New York, but she seemed to have accepted him now that she knew he was my half brother. Anyway, I was glad that Bree hadn’t been attracted to Killian. In the past, she had always gone after whoever she wanted and had always gotten them—except Cal. But she was definitely not flirting with Killian, and she had deliberately sat next to Robbie at the table. True, Robbie was better looking than Killian.

Raven was another matter. If Sky could see her with Killian’s hands all over her, well, it could get pretty ugly. With any luck, Sky wouldn’t find out.

“Pass the salt, please,” Matt said. He had been smiling and chuckling tonight for the first time in months.

“Cheers,” Killian said, and looked at the saltshaker. It began to slide quickly down the tables, hopping over the cracks between them, and stopped in front of Matt. After a moment of surprise I gave in to the fun and giggled at this casual show of magick. Everyone else laughed and seemed to admire Killian’s power, and he basked in the attention like a sunflower.

“Too much,” Jenna laughed, her face flushed and pretty. Matt’s dark eyes met hers, and she looked away.

“What do you think, sis?” Killian asked me. “Do you think it’s too much?” His smile was wide, his face wide, his face open, but I sensed a challenge there. Was this a test?

I shook my head. “No. But this might be too much.” Remembering what I had done on Saturday, I concentrated on the saltshaker. Light as air, I thought, and then the shaker rose slowly of the table. Everyone went quiet in surprise. Quickly I lowered the shaker, feeling my face color with self-consciousness. Everyone was staring at me, and I felt Alisa’s huge dark eyes on me, as if she was afraid. I shouldn’t have done that, I realized. It was too much, especially for a public place. Why did I feel like I had to impress Killian?

“I didn’t know you where initiated,” Killian said.

“I’m not. I just—” I shrugged.

Robbie was looking at me. I couldn’t meet his gaze, I knew what I’d see in there: the lack of trust I’d seen in his eyes in New York.

Bree was staring at me, too. “You move things?” she demanded. “You levitate things?”

“Uh, just recently,” I said feeling guilty. Hunter would so kill me if he had seen that. Speaking of Hunter, I realized that I should probably tell him where I was. After what had happened last night, the seriousness of the situation seemed much more real.

“Why did you call Morgan sis?” Matt asked. My stomach fell. I didn’t know if I was ready to deal with Kithic knowing we were half siblings.

Killian grinned broadly and stretched his arm across the back of my chair. “Oh, you know—Morgan and I, we’re kindred spirits.”

Startled I caught Killian’s eye, and he winked.

“You and Morgan?” Robbie looked at me questioningly, and when I shrugged, he gave me one of his skeptical half smiles. “Whatever you say…”

“Can I borrow your phone? I was supposed to call Eileen,” I asked Bree. She took out her tiny red cell phone and handed it to me. I got up and moved ten feet away.

I punched in Hunter’s phone number from memory. Crap! His phone was busy. Get call waiting, I thought. I’d have to try him again later.

“Hey, I know what,” Killian was saying as I returned to the table. “I found a pub over at Nortonville. What say we adjourn there?” Nortonville was slightly bigger town about twenty minutes away.

“Ooh, yeah,” said Raven at once.

“I’m up for it,” Bree said, glancing at her watch. It wasn’t eight yet. She looked at Robbie, and he nodded at her.

In the end everyone but Alisa, who asked to be dropped off at home, claiming that she needed to cram for geometry test, piled into three cars and drove over to Nortonville. I was in front, with Matt’s white pickup and Breezy, Bree’s BMW, behind me. Jenna, Ethan, and Sharon were laughing in the backseat of my car. Next to me, Killian was humming cheerfully and keeping time by hitting his knee with his palm.

My brain was already in the pub, trying to plan a way to get closer to Killian. If Killian started drinking, maybe he would let something slip. Maybe then it would be easier to talk to him about Ciaran, ask him to get Ciaran to come to Widow’s Vale. Tonight was the night to get him to open up. Eoife had made sense last night, but right now Suzanna Mears lay in a coma. Every time I thought of Imbolic and the remaining members that could be hurt before then, I felt sick. Time was all too short.

“Turn down this road,” Killian directed.

“Oh, this is old Highway 60,” I realized. “We’re not quite in Nortonville. We come down this road to get to the mall.”

Killian shrugged. “Up there.” He pointed. “There it is.”

When Killian had said “pub,” I had pictured a pub-like restaurant, maybe with and Olde English theme. But this was an actual bar. It was called the Twilite, and it looked like a converted Dairy Queen with it’s windows painted over and red light bulbs blinking out front.

The three cars parked, and we gathered in the cold night air. “So, Killian,” said Jenna. “How do we plan to get in? We are all underage.”

“Not a problem,” Killian said lightly. “Leave it to me.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Sharon and Ethan having a whispered conference. In the end Sharon sighed, and they joined us by the bar’s door. It was a Tuesday, so there were only a few other cars in the lot. The battered pink door opened, and a big guy leaned out to look at us.

“Yeah?”

Here’s where we get bounced, I thought, but Killian looked at the guy and said quietly, “There are nine of us.”

The man frowned and glanced at us. Killian waited patiently, and when the bouncer looked back at Killian, he seemed confused for a moment. “Right, nine,” he said finally, as if from a distance.

Killian smiled broadly, clapped the bouncer on the back, and strode into the bar. The rest of us followed him like baby ducks. Inside it was dark and smelled like spilled beer and sawdust and fried food. With my mage sight I could see clearly at once, but Bree and Robbie hesitated next to me. I touched Bree’s arm lightly, and she followed me deeper into Twilite.

“And another Jell-O shot for me and my friend!” Killian called loudly. The waitress smiled and nodded and headed to the bar. It was ten-thirty, and the Twilite had picked up a lot.

“This place isn’t so bad,” Bree said loudly into my ear. Music was streaming from the old-fashioned jukebox that Killian kept feeding with quarters. By now we were all used to the noise and the dim light and the flickering of a TV that was mounted high in one corner. There were two pool tables in an alcove in the back, and a group of townies was playing and getting progressively louder.

I nodded in agreement. “It looks like a dive from outside.” This felt similar to being with Killian in that club in New York, except this place was smaller, much less cool, and much less crowded. And of course, this place wasn’t packed with blood witches. And Hunter and I were no longer together… Oh, Goddess, don’t go down that road, I told myself. Still, the festive air that surrounded my half brother had caught up to us in the Twilite, and once again we were all laughing until our faces hurt, even me. The fact that most of us were drinking, underage or not, wasn’t hurting.

“Hey, are you all right?” Bree spoke into my ear again, struggling to be heard over the music but still quiet enough so the whole pub wouldn’t hear. “I know it must be hard for you, being out but not having Hunter anymore.”

I nodded. I was grateful for Bree’s concern, but this didn’t seem like the time or place to talk about it. “It’s hard,” I agreed. “Thanks for asking. I’m okay, though.”

“If you need to talk…” Robbie came up behind Bree and kissed her cheek. She giggles, and suddenly I felt very single. Bree gave me one last concerned look, and I smiled to show her I was okay.

“Sip?” Bree asked Robbie, holding out her screwdriver.

He shook his head, half smiling. “No—some of us have to be able to drive.” Bree was being extremely friendly to him, pressing close and talking in his ear. I looked around the table, feeling like everyone here was my good friend, that we could celebrate Wicca together. Not having Hunter with me, being a single girl among all the couples—I missed what I’d had with Hunter more than I could say. But still, having a group of friends I loved helped ease the pain inside me, just a little.

Jenna, on her third beer, giggled and leaned against Sharon, who wasn’t drinking at all. She looked like she wasn’t having as good a time as the rest of us. Ethan wasn’t drinking, either, but he’d been getting twitchier and twitchier, and I wondered if they’d had a fight. To keep everyone else company, I had ordered a whiskey sour, which was what my mom usually drank. It hadn’t been too bad, and I had ordered another. Killian and Raven had downed so many Jell-O shots that I had lost count. Now seemed a good time to talk to him. Smiling at him, I edged closer.

“Killian, I wanted to ask you—” I began.

“I love this song!” Killian shouted as the jukebox started another number. “Come on!” Clambering out of the booth, he grabbed Bree’s hand, who grabbed Robbie’s hand, who grabbed my hand, and then we were all dancing together on the tiny dance floor with sawdust slipping under our feet. And my opportunity was lost.

I’ve never been a big partier, and I hate dancing in public. The thing about whiskey sours, though, is they make you mind that kind of stuff less. Back at the table, Sharon and Ethan were actually bickering. When Ethan grabbed a beer off the waitress’s tray, Sharon’s face set like cement, and she grabbed her purse. I saw her ask Matt to take her home, and he agreed, shooting Ethan a glance.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jenna said, and though I couldn’t hear the word physically, I heard them in my mind. Sharon shrugged, looking upset, and Jenna got her coat and followed Sharon and Matt.

Ethan was sucking down his beer, watching Sharon angrily, but he didn’t stop her from leaving. In moments he had finished the first beer and started on another.

“What was that about?” I asked Robbie. He and I had edged away from the crowd and were now leaning against a back wall that felt sticky. I felt hot and out of breath, and a third whiskey sour felt fabulous going down my throat.

“Ethan had stopped drinking,” Robbie told me, not looking happy. “I didn’t think it was a great idea for him to come here.”

“Oh, crap,” I said, my head feeling light.

Robbie shrugged. At the table, Ethan’s second beer was empty. He signaled for another, but the waitress tapped her watch.

“Good,” I said, setting my empty glass on top of the jukebox. "It's closing time. They'll cut him off, and we can go home." I staggered a bit when I pushed myself off the wall, and that seemed amusing. It took forever for us to get our coats and scarves and pay our check, which was a stunning amount. Bree put it on her credit card, and we all promised to pay her back.

The shock of the night air took my breath away. "Oh, it's beautiful out," I said, gesturing to the wide expanse of sky. The night seemed darker than usual, the start brighter. But looking up made me lose my balance, and I would have fallen over if I hadn't crashed into Killian.

Laughing, he held me up until I was steady, and I blinked at him as the realization slowly came to me: I was wasted.

Robbie was loading Bree and Ethan into Breezy, and they were both feeling no pain. Raven was plastering herself to Killian, kissing him good-bye, and he wasn't resisting.

"Take me home," she said softly, holding his face between her hands. I rolled my eyes and started pawing through my fanny pack for my keys. Do not go home with her, I thought. Sky will kill you. And I need to talk to you alone. With a sudden pang, I wished Hunter were here. He would know what to do. He would help me. I would feel so much better.

"Raven, come with us," Robbie said. My hero. "You live close to Ethan, and I can drop off. Morgan takes another exit."

"I want to come home with you," Raven told Killian. She pressed her hips against him and smiled. "And you want me to."

He laughed and disengaged himself easily. "Not tonight, Raven. I'll take a rain check."

For a moment Raven couldn't decide whether to be angry or to pout, but in the end she was too drunk for either and fell backward into the backseat of Bree's car. Robbie sighed and slammed the door shut. Bree's fine dark hair was pressed against her window, and I saw her eyes were closed. With a wave good-bye, Robbie started Breezy and drove off.

"Fun people, your friends," said Killian. His words came out with puffs of condensation.

I looked at him for a moment until I understood the actual words. "Uh-huh," I said stupidly.

Killian grinned with delight and brushed my damp hair off my neck. "Little sister, are you tipsy?"

"I'm a mess," I said, feeling like my tongue needed to lie down and rest. Then two more synapses fired. "Oh, crap!" I said. "We're both drunk. Who's going to drive? We'll have to call a taxi."

"Oh, love, you're so concerned with what's right and wrong," Killian said soothingly. "It'll be fine. You know these roads. That car's a tank. No worries."

I was so drunk that I almost believed him. Then I shook my head, which felt loose and floppy. "No. We can't drive drunk," I slurred. "That would be bad."

His dark eyes glinted in the night.

I'm related to him, I thought in a daze. We share the same blood, I have a brother.

Slowly Killian reached out again and spread his hand on the side of my head, pushing his fingers beneath my hair. Smiling down at me, he whispered some words in Gaelic that I didn't know but somehow understood the meaning of. I started to feel strange and closed my eyes. When he quit speaking, I waited till he had moved his hand, then opened my eyes. I felt stone cold sober.

I looked around. I felt completely normal. I could walk, talk, and think. Killian saw the comprehension on my face and laughed again, his white teeth gleaming against his lips.

"Okay, I can drive," I said.

We got into Das Boot, my brain clinking away efficiently. I was sober; Killian was plastered. And I was going to find out where he was staying. There were possibilities here. I might get some information from him after all.

I drove slowly back down old Highway 60. Killian was leaning against his door, his head against the window. Eyes closed, he was singing under his breath.

"How did you get home last night?" I asked. "I ran after you to offer you a ride home, but you were already gone. How did you do it?"

Killian was looking out the window, not at me, but I could still sense his mischievous smile. "Oh, didn't you see, love?" he asked. "I had my portable broomstick in my pocket."

All right, I thought. I took that as something that I shouldn't press further. Let's try a new tactic.

"Where am I taking you now? Where are you staying?"

"Oh, ah…" Killian peered out the window, as if trying to figure out himself. "I don't really know the names of the roads here. I'll just have to tell you where to turn. You stay on this road for a while."

Okay. "You and Ciaran don't seem that much alike," I said, keeping my eyes on the road.

He blinked sleepily, giving me a sweet smile. I could see how he would be popular anywhere he went. He was fun, undemanding, flexible, and not at all mean-spirited.

“No,” he agreed. “We’re not.”

“Is that because he just wasn’t around that much when you were little?”

Killian thought. “Maybe. Partly. But it’s the whole nature-and-nurture thing. Even if he’d been around all the time, signing my school mark report, It’s probably still be pretty different from him.”

“Why?” Note to self: Do not become a lawyer. Your interrogation skills suck.

He shrugged. “Don’t know.” He sat up in his seat. “Take a left here.”

So he wasn’t Mr. Introspection. Okay. New tactic. “What are your brother and sister like?”

“They’re different from him, too. I don’t know.” Killian looked out the window into the dark woods on his side of the car. There was no moon tonight; the sky was laden with heavy clouds that seemed almost to touch the treetops. “It’s just—Da is very ambitious, you know? He married Mum so he could lead her mother’s coven. He just wants power, no matter what. It’s more important than family or…” His voice trailed off, and I wondered if he thought he’d said too much. He still seemed very drunk—his words were thick and seemed to take a lot of thought.

“Is your mom like that, too?”

Killian gave a short bark of a laugh. “Goddess, no. Which is why Da inherited her coven, not her. She should be really strong, it’s in her blood, but she just pisses it all away, you know? Ma’s a housewife, a princess, really. Always complaining about her lot in life. I think she loved Da, but he loved her inheritance. Plus she was pregnant with my older brother when they got married.”

This picture of Ciaran’s life seemed so different that what I’d imagined, reading the romantic, agonized entries in Maeve’s BOS.

“Anyway—if he loved your ma, then maybe that explains why he couldn’t stand any of us.” There was a bewildered hurt in his voice that I didn’t think would’ve been there without all the Jell-O shots.

“I’m sorry Killian,” I said, and meant it. In his own way, he was another of Ciaran’s victims. Did everyone Ciaran touched pay a price for it? Did I have the same effect?

“Yeah well,” Killian gave a smile. “I don’t lose sleep over it. But I don’t want you to think you’re inheriting Mr. and Mrs. Lovely. Our family’s kind of different.” He gave what seemed like a bitter chuckle and leaned his head against the window again.

“But they’re still your family,” I said. “They’re yours. They belong to you and you to them. That’s something.” I wasn’t aware of the tense catch in my throat until the final word and didn’t turn around when I felt my half brother’s eyes on me.

“Stop here a minute,” he said.

“Here?” I looked out at the deserted road. We were in the middle of the woods; I couldn’t see any houses anywhere. Why did he want me to stop?

“Right here.” I stopped the car, and Killian leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. It was very gentle and grape flavored. “Now you belong to us, little sister.”

To avoid bursting into unexpected tears, I opened my door and got out, standing next to Das Boot in the dark night. Killian got out also, clumsily hanging on the door to avoid falling down. He started laughing at himself, and I smiled.

“Look, sis,” he said, gesturing at the sky. He looked at me with mischief glittering in his eyes. “Repeat after me: grenlach altair dan, buren nitha sentac.” Watching his face, I repeated the words, imitating his pronunciation as best I could. They sounded much better with his accent, but when he went on, I followed, feeling the thin coil of magick awakening in me. What were we doing?

He was watching the sky, and I was, too, not knowing what to look for. Then Killian waved his right hand in a smooth, sweeping gesture, oddly graceful, and I saw the heavy clouds overhead parting reluctantly to reveal the clear, star-speckled sky behind them. My mouth went slack as I realized what he had done.

“Now you.” He tapped my hand, and disbelieving, I moved it in a gentle circle before me. The clouds above me moved at my command, and with a broader movement I pushed the huge billows aside. All was clear above us. Weather magick was forbidden; it was considered an assault on nature and could have far-reaching, devastating effects. So I had just worked forbidden magick. And I had loved it.

My heart was pounding with excitement, and I looked at Killian, my eyes wide and shining. He laughed at my expression.

“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” he said. “I gave you the stars. Good night, little sister.”

He started walking away, weaving slightly down the dark road.

“Good night? Where are you going?” I yelled. “This is the middle of nowhere!”

He turned and gave me a mock-severe look. “Everyplace is somewhere. I want to walk from here.” He turned and began to walk away.

“But—” I started at him, feeling something close to panic. “Killian! Wait!”

He turned again from the woods and looked at me. I took a deep breath. “I want to see Ciaran again. Can you ask him to come here, to see me?” There. It was out. I had said it.

For a moment Killian was silent, then his faint laughter floated to me just as a glowing sliver of moon appeared in the clouds’ clearing. “I’ll think about it,” he called back. Then he was gone, into the nothingness, and I was left alone in the cold, wondering whether I had actually succeeded in my mission—or whether Killian was just playing with me the same way he played with the clouds.