Seeker

2. Preparation

Goddess, I feel stupid. Stupid and childish and mad and guilty about not being able to go to Canada with Hunter. Why am I only seventeen? After what I’ve been through in the last five months, you’d think I would be at least twenty-three by now. I can’t stand being my age. I want to live in my own place, make all my own decisions, study the craft as much and as openly as I’d like. I want to be an adult. I should be an adult. Until I discovered Wicca, I’d always assumed I’d finish high school, go to college, and get a job that was incredibly satisfying, fun, creative, and that paid a ton of money.

Now the whole rest of my life seems up I the air. Eoife wants me to go to Scotland to study with some important teachers. I want to be with Hunter. My parents expect me to go to college. What for? I have to take the SATs this spring, have to start collecting college brochures. Suddenly everything seems so pointless.

Oh, Hunter, how long will you be gone?

— Morgan

Alyce Fernbrake recommended a friend of hers, Bethany Malone, as someone to lead my coven, Kithic, while I was gone. When I rang her doorbell on Thursday night, I had no idea what to expect and wondered if my being a Seeker would have a negative effect on our meeting.

She opened the door almost immediately. As soon as I saw her, I realized that I had seen her at least a couple of times at various witch gatherings here and there. Bethany was almost as tall as I am, big boned, with large, strong hands and a sturdy-looking body. Her short black hair was fine and straight; her eyes were huge and so dark, they seemed to have no pupils. I guessed her age to be about forty-five.

“Hunter Niall,” she said, looking at me consideringly. “Come in.”

“Bethany,” I greeted her. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

She led me through the short foyer into her lounge. Despite the building’s boxy, modern appearance, Bethany had created her own haven here, and this room was warm and felt familiar.

“I’m having some wine,” she said, getting down a glass. “Will you have some?”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, watching her pour the dark, rich fluid. I took the glass and looked into it, inhaling the scents of fruit, tannins, earth, and sun. I drank.

“This is terrific,” I said, and she smiled and nodded. We sat across from each other, me on the sofa and Bethany in a large, overstuffed chair that was draped with a mohair throw. The room was lit by shaded lamps and several candles; there were herbs hanging in neat rows along one wall. I sipped my wine and felt a bit of the day’s tension start to melt away.

“Alyce told me you’re looking for someone to lead your circles for a while,” she said.

“Yes. I’m going out of town. Kithic is a fairly new coven, and I’d hate for them to get out of rhythm while I’m gone.”

“Tell me about them,” she said, folding her long legs beneath her. “Are you all one clan? I’m Brightendale — did Alyce mention it?”

“Yes, she did, and no, we aren’t,” I said. “In fact, out of the twelve, only three are blood witches — me, my cousin Sky, and a girl named Morgan Rowlands. And Sky’s on holiday right now, so there would be only eleven, including you.”

“Morgan Rowlands,” said Bethany. “Goodness. She’s in your coven? What’s that like?”

I grimaced. “Unpredictable. Exciting. Frightening.”

Nodding, Bethany swirled the wine in her glass. “What about the rest of them?”

“They’re all in high school,” I explained. “They’ve all known each other, more or less, for most of their lives. Widow’s Vale is a pretty insular town, and there aren’t many different schools. One girl, Alisa Soto, left the coven recently, but I have a feeling she’ll be coming back. She was the youngest, at fifteen. The others are Bree Warren, Robbie Gurevitch, Sharon Goodfine, and Ethan Sharp. They’re all juniors. Simon Bakehouse, Matt Adler, Thalia Cutter, Raven Meltzer, and Jenna Ruiz are all seniors.”

“So many young people, coming to Wicca,” said Bethany. “That’s really nice. How sincere do they seem? Are they just flirting with it, or do you think they take it seriously?”

“Both,” I said. “Some are more sincere than others. Some are more sincere than they realize. Some are less sincere than they realize. I’ll leave it up to you to figure it out — I don’t want to prejudice you.”

Bethany nodded and sipped her wine. “Tell me about Morgan.”

I paused for a few moments. How to put this? “Well, she’s powerful,” I said lamely. “She grew up in a Catholic family. She only started studying Wicca five months ago — and only found out about being a blood witch maybe four months ago. And she was, you know, involved with Selene Belltower and her son.”

I tried to keep my face neutral as I said this. Cal hadn’t been dead long enough. Anytime I thought of Cal and Morgan together, of his convincing her he loved her, of the black plans he and Selene had for her, an overwhelming rage came over me and shattered my usual self-control.

“Yes,” said Bethany, her dark eyes on me. As with Alyce, I got the impression that she wasn’t missing much. “I’d be interested in meeting her.”

“In my opinion,” I went on, “Morgan desperately needs to learn as much as she can as fast as she can. It’s nerve-racking being around her, feeling like she could blink and make a building collapse.”

“She’s as powerful as that?” Bethany looked very interested.

“I think so. This is someone who has had barely any instruction, who’s uninitiated and who has never even thought about going through the Great Trial. Someone who grew up having no idea of her powers, her heritage.”

“Yet she shows such great promise?”

“She lights fires with her mind,” I said, shrugging helplessly. “No one taught her how to do that. She has an inherent knowledge of power chants and other quite complicated spells that would be very difficult for a well-educated witch to do. She scries with fire. And a few weeks ago, she shape-shifted.”

“Holy Mother,” Bethany breathed. “What did she shift into?”

“A wolf.”

For a few minutes Bethany Malone and I sat looking at each other, drinking our wine.“Goddess,” Bethany said finally.

“Yeah,” I said wryly. “It gets rather tense sometimes.”

“I see,” she said. “Tell me a bit about how you conduct your circles.”

I went over our usual rites, our check-ins and meditation and energy-raising. Bethany listened attentively as I briefed her on the lessons I had led so far, about basic correspondences, purifying the circle, focusing skills. “Kithic has had some ups and downs,” I concluded. “But in general the members are coming together in an interesting way, and I’m committed to helping them as long as they want to continue and as long as I’m in the States. It would be easy for them to get off track if they missed several circles.”

“Yes,” Bethany agreed. She set down her empty glass. “I’m intrigued, Hunter. I want to meet Morgan. I’m curious to meet these kids. I’d be happy to take over your circles while you’re gone.”

Relief flooded my body. Instinctively I felt that Bethany would bring good energy to the group, and the fact that she was recommended by Alyce set my mind at ease. “Brilliant,” I said. “Thanks very much. The circles meet every Saturday night at seven, but the location changes. This Saturday it’ll be at Jenna Ruiz’s house—I’ll give you directions.”

I left half an hour later, a huge weight off my shoulders. Bethany was both strong and sensible; Kithic, and especially Morgan, would be safe in her hands.

“What time is it there?” I asked. I had called Sky when I got home but guessed I hadn’t calculated the time difference correctly. Sky sounded sleepy and uncharitable.

“It’s. .” I pictured her craning around for a clock. “It’s oh-dark-thirty,” she finally said irritably. “What’s up?”

Sky and I had grown up together; though I had two siblings and she had four, we were the same age and had compatible temperaments. Though neither of us was much given to sappy emotional outbursts, we were as close as brother and sister, and we both knew it. Now I told her my news as briefly as possible, picturing her almond-shaped black eyes widening under her golden eyebrows.

“Oh, Gìomanach,” she breathed, lapsing into my coven name, the name she had called me through childhood. “Oh, Goddess, I don’t believe it—after all this time.”

“Yeah. I leave on Saturday. It’s about an eleven-hour drive, I think.”

“I just can’t believe it,” Sky repeated. She paused. “How about I catch a flight back and go with you?”

I smiled with gratitude. “Thanks, Sky, but I’m all right going solo. Besides, you’ve done enough—I’d have never found them without you. You’re on holiday.”

I paused, and changed the subject. “How’s the mighty Cara?” Sky’s sister Cara was living in Paris.

Sky gave an uncharacteristic giggle. “She’s pretty much the same: beautiful, successful, extremely popular, blokes panting at the door, constant promotions at work, the usual.”

“Gross,” I said. “And of course she’s still sweet and kind and impossible to hate?”

Sky sighed. “Yes, damn her. She’s been great. I’m glad I’m here. I still feel so—drained. Tired. Achy. I keep expecting to get the flu, but it hasn’t come yet.”

I waited, wondering if she would ask for news of Raven, but she didn’t. “Listen,” I said, “I’ll call you from there and let you know what’s happening. Who knows what I’ll find? Anyway—I’ll keep in touch.”

“Do,” she said. “I might be back in England, or maybe even America, by the time you get home. I don’t know how much more fabulousness I can stand.”

“Paris or Cara?”

“Both.”

We rang off, and I sat for a moment, hoping that being away was doing her good. I frowned, thinking about how she was still feeling run-down. Was it just a simple mental thing, caused by stress or unhappiness, or was she really sick?

I knew Morgan’s number by heart and braced myself to talk to one of her parents if they answered the phone. But it was Morgan who said, “Hello, Hunter.”

Morgan’s slightly husky voice sent shivers down my spine, and I realized I was gripping the phone a little tighter. You are pathetic, Niall, I told myself. “Hi,” I said. “How are you?”

“Okay. Have you been getting ready for your trip?”

“Yes. I’ve lined up a replacement circle leader. Her name is Bethany Malone. Alyce recommended her, and I went to see her tonight. She seems terrific—I hope you’ll like her. I think she’ll be really good.”

“Hmmm. I guess I just like it best when you lead the circles.”

Morgan wasn’t being coy or trying to inflate my ego. She was naturally shy, and it took her a while to be comfortable with new people. Making magick with people is an intimate thing: it’s very hard to hold on to your barriers and defenses when you’re connected by the energy. And Morgan wrote the book on defenses and barriers.

“I know,” I said. “But Bethany is very learned, and it’s a good opportunity for you to work with someone new. You know I’m not the best teacher for you.” Because I want to ravish you.

She remained quiet, and I sensed that she was feeling conflicted about things.

“Hunter—I know you have to go,” she said finally. “It’s incredible that your folks are alive. You have to go see them. I know that. It’s just—I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”

“Love,” I said. “I’m going to miss you, too. I wish I knew when I’ll be back. I mean, I might be back in three days, or it might take a week. . or longer.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, sounding down.

“I’ll be thinking of you the whole time,” I said. “I’ll try to call as often as I can. And I’ll be so glad when I’m back.” Part of me felt almost guilty saying that. The truth was, I really had no idea what would happen. What if my parents no longer had to live in hiding? What if they could live openly and we could be a real family? Maybe they were planning to move back to England, to be near Beck and Shelagh. We would have actual family holiday celebrations, like for Ostara, coming up. Maybe next year’s Yule would be truly joyous, with all of us together at last.

And if they did return to England, where would that leave me? I can easily work in England—plenty of witches are there. And I knew the council would be eager to send me out on another job soon. Nothing was holding me in Widow’s Vale except Morgan. What if I had to choose between being with my parents or being with Morgan? If I could be near my parents, see them, make magick with them, learn from them. . that would carry a lot of weight. And Morgan wouldn’t be able to join me in England, not for at least a year and a half.

A lot can happen in a year and a half. A lot can happen in three months.

“I’ll be glad when you get back, too,” Morgan said. I sensed her taking charge of herself, deliberately deciding to be stronger. “But I know it’ll be wonderful for you to go.” Her voice sounded much more brisk and matter-of-fact.

“Thanks,” I said softly, feeling the warmth of my love for her.

“I can’t believe I can’t go with you,” she said. “But anyway—I was thinking, if you’re leaving early Saturday, maybe we could have dinner together tomorrow night, just the two of us. Unless you think you’re going to be really busy getting ready.”

Terrific idea. “No, I’ll make sure to get everything done before then. Dinner alone tomorrow sounds wonderful. Let’s do it at my house—I’ll try to put something special together.”

“Great,” she said, and I picked up on her waves of relief and anticipation.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you, love,” I said.

“Me too,” she said, and we rang off.