Full Circle

11. Morgan

When school was over, Mary K. met me by Das Boot and we headed for home. I felt foggy and distant, and I could barely remember anything that had happened that day. However, as awful as I had felt, being surrounded by hundreds of other students hadn't been a bad thing. I had felt safe, lost in the hustle and bustle of classes and lunch and more classes.

"Yoo-hoo," Mary K. said loudly, and my head snapped in her direction. "I said, do you think you can give me a ride to Alisa's later?"

"Sorry," I said. "Didn't hear you. Um, I don't think so. I'm going to be home for just a minute, then Hunter's coming over and we're going out. Maybe Alisa can get a ride to our house."

"Okay, I'll ask."

At home I went up to the bathroom and tried to salvage my appearance somewhat. There wasn't a heck of a lot I could do. I stood in front of the mirror, feeling depressed and wondering if Hunter was legally blind. I felt Mary K. come up and sighed.

"Yeah, you're not exactly the poster child for glowing health, are you?" she said, leaning against the door frame.

"No, guess not." I turned to go, but my sister stopped me.

"Hold on a minute." She rummaged through her bathroom drawer and then held my face in a hard grip while she dabbed and brushed and stroked and almost blinded me with a mascara brush when I blinked.

"I'm going to look like a clown," I said warningly.

"No, you're not," she said. "Look."

I turned to the mirror, and once again my sister had managed to somehow work with my unpromising raw materials. My cheeks looked healthily pink, my eyes larger and more distinctive, and my mouth looked natural instead of looking like I had just donated a lot of blood. Yet I didn't even look made up. I looked like me, but me on a really good day.

"Nice?" she asked, obviously pleased.

"You are my idol," I said, staring at myself. "This is great."

Mary K. grinned, and then the phone rang and she went to answer it. I quickly changed my shirt, since I had spilled Diet Coke on it at lunch, and then Mary K. tapped on my door. "For you," she called. "It's someone named Ee-fuh or something like that."

Eoife. That's strange, I thought, taking the phone. "Hello?"

"Morgan," said Eoife McNabb's familiar voice. Instantly I pictured her in my mind: she was small, probably not much more than five feet tall. Her eyes were a warm, light brown, and her hair was the most shocking shade of natural red I had ever seen. "Hello, how are you?"

"Okay, I guess," I said warily. I liked Eoife and respected her, but that didn't mean I trusted her completely. She was one of the subelders of the council.

"Morgan, do you have a moment? I need to talk to you about something."

"Um," I said, glancing at my watch. Hunter should be here any minute.

"I've been talking to some of the witches at Dubhlan Cuan, the retreat where our most talented and knowledgeable teachers are, up in northern Scotland. The short story is, they've agreed to accept you as a probationary student this summer."

She sounded incredibly excited.

"Hm!" I said.

"It would be an intensive eight-week course. You would have to pay your airfare, but everything else, room and board, would be covered. Morgan, this is the first time any American witch has been accepted for teaching, much less one as young as you and as relatively untrained, uninitiated. It's the chance of a lifetime, one that many, many witches can only dream of. You would be foolish not to take it."

"Why did they accept me?" I asked. Eoife hadn't even told me she was going to put in an application.

"Because of your power," Eoife said simply. "A witch like you comes along only once every several generations. Morgan," she said gently. "I really think these could be the most important eight weeks of your life. The summer session starts in mid-June and lasts until mid-August. Please tell me you'll come."

All kinds of thoughts were flying through my head. Bree and I had a tradition of driving over to the Jersey shore for a beach vacation. That would be out, and so would long summer evenings eating snow cones, all the dumb summer movies. It would mean I couldn't work and earn money this summer, money that I always depended on to supplement my pitiful allowance throughout the year.

On the other hand, Hunter was going to be in England during the summer. I hadn't even been able to think about the pain of that separation and how much I dreaded it. If I was up in Scotland, it would be easier to see him. And the idea of being in an all-witch environment, where everyone understood me, where no one was suspicious, sounded like heaven. I would learn so much.

"I would love to," I said at last, and immediately sensed Eoife's relief. "The problem is, I'll need to ask my parents. If I was going over there to study math, they would be packing my bags. But to study Wicca-it's not going to go over well." My heart began sinking as soon as I said that.

"I see," said Eoife. "Yes. That could be a problem. Do you think it would help if I talked to them?"

I thought about it. More likely that conversation would be an unmitigated disaster. "Urn, well, let me try asking them first. I'll let you know as soon as I can-and I'll really try to get them to agree. I really, really want to go."

"I'm glad," said Eoife. "Please do try, and let me know if it will help for me to talk to them. I'll call you soon for news, all right?"

"Yes. Thanks, Eoife. I really appreciate it." We hung up and I hurried downstairs just as I sensed Hunter coming up the walk.

He smiled when he saw me, his eyes examining me for signs of my horrible ordeal last night. We said good-bye to Mary K., and I grabbed my jacket. "So, horrible stress agrees with you," he said as we walked to his car. "You look like you just took a brisk walk in the fresh spring air."

I shrugged, feeling pleased. "Hunter, you'll never believe what just happened," I said, and on our way to Red Kill, I told him all about Eoife's amazing offer.

Hunter looked more and more astounded, and when we parked in front of Practical Magick, he leaned over and hugged me hard. "Morgan! That's brilliant! It's like winning the Nobel Prize as a teenager! Goddess, I'm so proud of you!" He looked at me, his hands on my shoulders, and I smiled somewhat self-consciously. "Have you asked your parents yet?"

"No-they're not home, and Eoife just called. I'll ask them soon, when I find a really good moment."

"It would be an amazing, incredible experience," he said. "I hope they let you take it."

We got out of the car and headed into the store. "Does Mary K. know?"

"I didn't have time to tell her. You came right then, and she was headed to Alisa's house. She's agreed to go to Alisa's dad's wedding."

"Good. I'm hoping they can work things out."

Alyce came forward to meet us and took both my hands as an interested young customer watched us. "Come into the other room," she said quietly. "Bethany's already here."

Alyce had moved another table and more chairs into the back room where Hunter worked. Because the room had a door that closed, it felt more private than the little back kitchen, which had only a curtain.

Again, I told them everything I could remember about my dream the previous night. I was already starting to forget details, and Hunter added things that I had told him when he'd first found me.

"To me, based on the things Cal was saying, it sounds like he simply can't let go of Morgan, can't accept that he's no longer part of her life," Hunter said, trying not to show how angry he was. "It's like he wants her with him."

"That could definitely be part of it," Bethany said. "But I think there's more to it than that. All the images of the fire- winged hawk-that's a common symbol for an uncommon person, a sgiurs dan."

Ciaran had called me a sgiurs dan, I remembered, but I hadn't known what to make of it.

"That's what I found out also," Hunter said. "And sgiurs dan basically means destroyer."

My eyebrows raised.

Alyce went on. "The research I've done in the last few days has turned up some interesting facts. First, the idea of the sgiurs dan seems particular only to the Woodbanes. The rough translation of the actual words is something like 'scourge of fate. But the references to it I found made it sound more like the Indian Siva, something that destroys or wipes clean but also clears a path for new beginnings."

"And I'm one?" I asked, my voice practically squeaking.

Alyce looked at me and took a deep breath. "Possibly," she said. "I don't know why Ciaran would lie about that. In Woodbane history there are mentions of sgiurs dans every few generations. They're almost always women, and it seemed that after they've lived, or because of them, the course of Woodbane history changes." "It could be coincidental," Hunter suggested. "A particularly charismatic or powerful witch comes along, and then they later attribute the change to her, identifying her as a sgiurs dan after the fact."

"Which doesn't explain why Morgan would be called one," said Bethany.

"I can't really find a connection to Morgan," Alyce admitted. "The last one seemed to be noted in 1902, and one source I found believes that person cleared the way for the creation of Amyranth."

"Great," I muttered, feeling a headache coming on.

"And then there was one back around 1820 or so," Alyce went on. "The sgiurs dan seems to be either light or dark, with no discernible pattern." She gave a sudden smile. "We're hoping you're light."

I made a thanks-a-lot face. "And this relates to me how?"

"We don't know," Alyce admitted. "It's just that you had dreams with images of a hawk that had wings made of fire. The only references we could find of that image were related to the sgiurs dan."

"At any rate, what's become quite clear is that these are definitely attacks against Morgan, and they're increasing in danger. They're now life-threatening, and they must be stopped," said Hunter.

"I agree," said Bethany.

"We have a plan," said Alyce, surprising me. She glanced across at Bethany. "We were working on it until late last night, and then today we think we've finished it-almost. The dreams are getting more realistic, more cohesive. I feel, and Bethany agrees, that there is a being behind this, probably Cal Blaire, though we're not totally certain. My theory is that as the dreams become more cohesive, so does this being, or this anam. The dreams are leading up to a climax: Morgan's death. The presence, for lack of a better word, is finding that it has to keep upping its power, upping the tricks it uses on Morgan."

"A witch who wasn't strong as Morgan probably wouldn't have made it this far," Bethany said.

"What's your plan?" Hunter asked.

"A magickal trap," Alyce said. "Our idea is that as the being becomes more cohesive, it also becomes more vulnerable to being caught. If Morgan didn't take any sleeping potion and allowed herself to dream, I feel that this presence-"

"Cal," Hunter supplied.

"— would take that opportunity to launch its final attack. We three would be watching, hidden magickally. If Morgan sleepwalks, we'll follow her. If the presence shows up, we'll trap it."

"How do you catch an anam?" I asked.

"The three of us will join our powers and hold it in a binding spell," Bethany explained. "We'll adapt it for an amorphous being, but I feel that the three of us should be able to hold on to just about anything."

"At that point we'll ensnare it-"

"Cal," said Hunter.

"— in a piece of brown jasper, using a spell I've adapted from one I've read," Alyce went on, continuing to ignore Hunter's interruptions. "Then, after we question the anam, the crystal can be destroyed in any number of ways."

I thought this through. I didn't like the idea of sleeping with no potion at all, but the idea that these three witches, whom I trusted so implicitly, would be right there, made it seem more doable.

"Okay," I said firmly, leaning forward. "I'm ready. Let's do it tonight. I appreciate all the work you've done," I said to the three of them.

"We're happy to help," Alyce assured me. "Now- we need a few hours to prepare and get set up. Morgan, I think you should just go home, have a light dinner, then come back to my apartment around eight. Will there be a problem with school?"

I frowned, then shook my head. "I'll tell my parents I'm sleeping over at Bree's. They usually don't mind."

"Fine, then. Hunter and Bethany, can you stay here so we can go over things again?"

"Let me just run Morgan home, then I'll be right back," Hunter said. They agreed, and as Hunter drove me home, I felt more optimistic than I had in days.