Black Magick s-4

by Cate Tiernan

  — Sgath

  The sun had faded away. My wheels crunched ice on the road as I drove past old farms, fields of winter wheat, silos.

  Cal and Selene. Selene was evil. It sounded melodramatic, but what else do you call a witch who works on the lark side? Evil. Woodbane.

  No! I told myself. I'm Woodbane. I'm not evil. Belwicket wasn't evil; my mother wasn't. My grandmother wasn't. But somewhere along the line, my ancestors had been. Was that why Selene wanted me? Did she see the potential for evil in me? I remembered the vision I'd had of myself as a gnarled gone, hungry for power. Was that my true future?

  I choked back a sob. Oh, Cal, I screamed silently. You betrayed me. I loved you, and you were just playing a part.

  I couldn't get over this. It was a physical pain inside me, an anguish so devastating that I couldn't think straight. Tears rolled down my cheeks, leaving hot tracks and tasting of salt when they touched the edges of my lips. A thousand images of Cal bombarded my brain: Cal leaning down to kiss me, Cal with his shirt open, Cal laughing, teasing me, offering to help me with Bakker, making me tea, holding me tight, kissing me hard, harder.

  I was flying apart inside. I began to pray desperately that scrying had been a lie, that Sky had tricked me, made me things that weren't there, she had lied, had lied….

  I needed to see him. I needed to find out the truth. I'd had my questions answered by Hunter and by Sky, and now only Cal remained to fill me in on the big picture, the dangers I was blundering into, the reasons I needed to be careful, to watch myself, to rein in my power.

  But first—I had to hide my mother's tools. With all my heart, I hoped that Cal would convince me of his innocence, convince me that Sky was wrong, convince me that our love was true. But the mathematician in me insisted that nothing is one hundred percent certain. I had bound my mother's tools to me, they were mine, and now I had to make sure no one would take them away or make me use them for evil.

  But where to stash them? I couldn't go home. I was already almost late for dinner, and if I went home, I wouldn't be able to turn around and leave. Where?

  Of course. Quickly I made a right turn, heading to Bree's house. Bree and I were enemies: no one would suspect I would hide something precious in her yard.

  Bree's house looked large, immaculately kept, and dark. Good—no one was home. I popped the trunk on my car and took out the box. Whispering, "I am invisible, you see me not, I am but a shadow," I slunk up the side yard, then quickly ducked beneath the huge lilac bush that grew outside the dining-room window. It was mostly bare this time of year, but it still hid the opening to the crawl space beneath Bree's house. I tucked the toolbox out of sight behind a piling, traced some fast runes of secrecy, and stood up.

  I was opening my car door when Bree and Robbie drove up in Bree's BMW. They pulled up beside me and stopped.

  Ignoring them, I started to swing into the driver's seat of my car. The passenger window scrolled down smoothly. Crap, I thought.

  "Morgan?" said Robbie. "We've been looking for you. We were talking to Sky. You've got to—"

  "Gotta go," I said, climbing in and slamming the door shut before he could say anything else. I had already talked to Sky, and I knew what she'd said.

  Robbie opened his door and started toward me. I peeled off, watching him get smaller in the rearview mirror. I'm sorry, Robbie, I thought. I'll talk to you later.

  On the way toward the river, thoughts of exactly what I would say to Cal raced through my mind. I was in the middle of my ninth hysterical scenario when—

  Morgan.

  My head whipped around. Cal's voice was there, right beside me, and I almost screamed.

  Morgan?

  Where are you? my mind answered frantically.

  I need to see you. Please, right away. I'm at the old cemetery, where we had our circle on Samhain. Please come.

  What to do? What to think? Had everything he'd told me been a lie? Or could he explain it all?

  Morgan? Please. I need you. I need your help.

  Just like that night with Hunter, I thought. Was he in trouble? Hurt? Blinking, I wiped away some stray tears with the back of my sleeve and peered through the windshield. At next the intersection I turned right instead of left, and then I was on the road leading north, out of town. Oh, Cal, I thought, a new wave of anguish sweeping over me. Cal, we to have it out.

  Five minutes later I turned down a side road and parked front of the small Methodist church that had once shepherded the people who now lay in its graveyard.

  Shuddering with leftover sobs, I sat in my car. Then I felt Cal, coming closer. He tapped gently on my window. I opened the door and got out.

  "You got my message?" he said. I nodded. He examined my face more closely. Then he caught my chin in his hands and said, "What's wrong? Why were you crying? Where were you? I tried going by your house."

  What should I say?

  "Cal, is Selene trying to hurt me?" I asked, my words like shards of ice in the night air.

  Everything in him became still, centered, and focused. "Why would you say that?"

  I felt his senses reaching out to me, and quickly I shut myself down, refusing him entrance.

  "Is Selene part of an all-Woodbane coven that wants to erase non-Woodbanes?" I asked, pushing my hair out of my face. Please tell me it's a lie. Please convince me. Tell me anything.

  Cal gripped my hair in his hand, making me look at him. "Who have you been talking to?" he demanded. "Dammit, has that bastard Hunter been—"

  "I scryed," I said. "I saw you with Selene and other people. I heard them talking about your 'assignment'. Was I your assignment?"

  He was silent for a long time. "Morgan, I can't believe this," he said at last. "You know you can't believe stuff you see in scrying—it's all nebulous, uncertain. Scrying shows you only possibilities. See, this is why I always want you to wait until I guide you. Things can be misunderstood—"

  "Scrying showed me the possibility of where my mother's tools were," I said, my voice stronger. "It's not always lies—otherwise no one would use it."

  "Morgan, what's this all about?" he asked in a loving voice. He gently pulled me to him so that my cheek rested against his chest, and it felt wonderful and I wanted to sink into him. He kissed my forehead. "Why are you having doubts? You know we're muirn beatha dans. We belong together; we're one. Tell me what's wrong," he said soothingly.

  With those words the pain in my chest intensified, and I took deep breaths so I wouldn't cry again. "We're not," I whispered, as the truth broke over me like a terrible dawn. "We're not."

  "Not what?"

  I tilted back my head to look into his gold eyes, his eyes full of love and longing and fear. I couldn't bring myself to say it outright.

  "I know you slept with Bree," I lied instead. "I know it."

  Cal looked at me. Before Bree and I had broken our friendship, she had been chasing Cal hard, and I knew from past experience that she always got whatever guy she wanted. One day she had been happy, saying she and Cal had finally gone to bed, so now they were going out. But they hadn't started going out, and he had come after me. I'd asked him about it before, and he had denied sleeping with her, with my best friend. Now I needed to know the truth of it, once and for all, even as I was being hit with other painful truths from every direction.

  "Just once," Cal said after a pause, and inside, I felt my heart cease its pumping and slowly clog shut with ice.

  "You know what Bree's like," he went on. "She won't take no for an answer. One night, before I really knew you, she jumped on me, and I let her. To me it was no big deal, but I guess she was hurt that I didn't want more."

  I was silent, my eyes locked on his, seeing in their reflection all my dreams exploding, all my hopes for our future, all shattering like glass.

  "The only powers she had were reflections coming from you," he said, the barest trace of disdain in his voice. "Once I realized you were the one, Bree was just… unimportant."

  "Realized I w
as the one what?" My voice sounded tight, raspy, and I coughed and spoke again. "The one Woodbane around? The Woodbane princess of Belwicket?" I pushed him away. "Why do you keep lying to me?" I cried in anguish. "Why can't you just tell me who you are and what you want?" I was practically screaming, and Cal winced and held up his hands.

  "You don't love me," I accused him, still pathetically hoping he would prove me wrong. "I could be anyone, young or old, pretty or ugly, smart or stupid, as long as I was Woodbane."

  Cal flinched and shook his head. "That isn't true, Morgan," he said, a note of desperation in his voice. "That isn't true at all."

  "Then what is true?" I asked. "Is anything you've told me true?"

  "Yes!" he said strongly, raising his head. "It's true that I love you!"

  I managed a credible snort.

  "Morgan," he began, then stopped, looking at the ground. His hands on his hips, he went on. "This is the truth. You're right. I was supposed to find a Woodbane, and I did."

  I almost gasped with pain.

  "I was supposed to get close to her, and I did."

  How could I still be standing, I wondered in a daze.

  "I was supposed to make her love me," he said quietly. "And I did."

  Oh, Goddess, oh, Goddess, oh, Goddess.

  He raised his head and looked at me, my eyes huge and horrified.

  "And you were the Woodbane, and you didn't even know it And then you turned out to be from the Belwicket line, and it was like we'd hit gold. You were the one."

  Oh, Goddess, help me. Help me, please, I beg you.

  "So I got close to you and made you love me, right?"

  I had no answer. My throat was closed.

  Cal gave a laugh laced with bitterness. "The thing is," he said, "no one said I had to love you back. No one expected me to, including me. But I do, Morgan. No one said I had to fall for you, but I did. No one said I had to desire you, enjoy your company, admire you, take pride in your strength, but I do, dammit! I do." His voice had been rising, and he stepped closer to me. "Morgan, however it started, it isn't like that now. I feel like I've always loved you, always known you, always wanted a future with you." He put his hand on my shoulder, gently kneading and squeezing, and I tried to back pp. "You're my muirn beatha dan," he said softly. "I love you. I want you. I want us to be together."

  "What about Selene?" My voice sounded like a croak.

  "Selene has her own plans, but they don't have to include us," he said, stepping closer still. "You have to understand how hard it is to be her son, her only son. She depends on me—I'm the heir to the throne. But I can have my own life, too, with you, and it doesn't have to include her. It's just— first I have to help her finish some things she's been working on. If you help us, too, it will all go so much faster. And then we can be free of her."

  I looked at him, feeling a cold, deadly calm replacing the panic and wretchedness inside me. I knew what I had seen in my vision, and I knew Cal was either lying or kidding himself about Selene's plans. They didn't include letting him—or me—be free.

  "I'm free of her now," I said. "I know that Selene needs me for something. She's counting on you to sign me up. But I'm not going to, Cal. I'm not going to be part of it."

  His expression looked like he had just watched me get hit by a car.

  "Morgan," he choked out, "you don't understand. Remember our future, our plans, our little apartment. Remember? Please just help us with this one thing, and then we can work out all the details later. Trust me on this. Please."

  My heart was bleeding. I said, "No. Selene can't have me. I won't do what she wants. I won't go with you. It's all over, Cal. I'm leaving the coven. And I'm leaving you."

  His head snapped up as if I had hit him, and he stared at me. "You don't know what you're saying."

  "I do," I said, trying to make my voice strong, though I really wanted only to crumple in misery on the ground. "It's over. I won't be with you anymore." Each word scarred my throat, etching its pain in acid.

  "But you love me!"

  I looked at him, unable to deny it even after all this.

  "I love you," he said. "Please, Morgan. Don't—don't force my hand, just come with me, let Selene explain everything herself. She can make you understand better than I can."

  "No."

  "Morgan! I'm asking you, if you love me, come with me now. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just come and tell Selene herself that you won't be part of her coven. That's all you need to do. Just tell her to her face. I'll back you up."

  "You tell her."

  His eyes narrowed with anger, then it was gone. "Don't be unreasonable. Please don't make me do anything I don't want to do."

  Fear shot through me. "What are you talking about?"

  His face had a strange look, a look of desperation. I was suddenly terrified. The next second I whirled, broke into a run, and was digging my car keys out of my pocket. I ripped open the car door, hearing Cal right behind me, then he yanked the door open, hard, and shoved me in.

  "Ow!" I cried as my head hit the door frame.

  "Get in!" he roared, pushing against me. "Get in!"

  Goddess, help me, I prayed as I scrambled to let myself out the other side. But when I grabbed the door handle, Cal put his hand on my neck and squeezed, muttering words that I didn't understand, words that sounded ancient and dark and ugly.

  I tried to counter with my Gaelic chant, but my tongue frozen my mouth and a paralyzing numbness swept over me, I couldn't move, couldn't look away from him, couldn't scream. He had put a binding spell on me. Again.

  I'm so stupid, I thought ridiculously as he started Das Boot with my keys.

  CHAPTER 17

  The Seomar

  February 2001

  I did it. I put a witch under the braigh.

  The fellow in Cornwell was mad, there is no question of that. When I came to question him he first tried to evade me, then when he saw that I would not give up, he flew into a frenzy. He gibbered about how he would curse me and my whole family, that he was one of the Cwn Annwyn, the hounds of Hell. He began to shout out a spell and I had to wrestle him to the ground and put the braigh on him. Then he began to weep and plead. He told me how it burned him, and begged me to let him go. At last his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.

  I put him in the car, and Athar drover us to London. I left him with Kennet Muir. Kennet told me I'd done well; the man might be mad but he also had true power and was therefore dangerous. He said my task was done, and now it was the seven elders' job to determine the man's future.

  I left, and then Ather and I went to a pub and got very drunk. Later, she held me while I wept.

  — Giomanach

  "You just don't get it, do you?" Cal said angrily, taking a corner too fast. I slumped against the car door helplessly. Inside, my mind was whirring like a tornado, a thousand thoughts spinning out of control, but the binding spell he had put on me weighted my limbs as thoroughly as if I were encased in cement.

  "Slow down," I managed to whisper.

  "Shut up!" he shouted. "I can't believe you're making me do this! I love you! Why can't you listen to me? All I need is for you to come talk to Selene. But no. You can't even do that for me. The one thing I ask you to do, you won't. And now I have to do this. I don't want to do this."

  I slanted my eyes sideways and looked at Cal, at his strong profile, his hands gripping Das Boot's steering wheel. This was a nightmare, like other magickal nightmares I'd had before, and soon I would wake up, panting, in my own bed at home. I just needed to wake up. Wake up, I told myself. Wake up. You'll be late for school.

  "Morgan," Cal said, his voice calmer. "Just think this through. We've been working with witchcraft for years. You've only been doing it a couple of months. At some point you'll just have to trust us with what we're doing. You're only resisting because you don't understand. If you would calm down and listen to me, it would all make sense."

  Since I was in essence dead
weight right now, his telling me to calm down seemed particularly ironic. Cal kept on talking, but my brain drifted away from his monologue. Focus, I thought. Focus. Get it together. Make a plan.

  "I thought you would be loyal to me always," Cal said. My eyes were just above the window ledge, and I saw that we were just entering Widow's Vale. Were we going to Cal's house? It was so secluded—once he got me there, I'd never get out I thought about my parents wondering where I was and wanted to cry. Focus, dammit! Think your way out of this. You're the most powerful witch they've ever seen; surely there must be something you can do. Think!

  Cal flew through a red light at the edge of town, and involuntarily I flinched as I heard the squeal of brakes and an angry horn. I realized he hadn't even put my seat belt on me, and in my present helpless state I couldn't do it myself. Fresh, cold fear trickled down my spine when I pictured what would happen to me in an accident.

  Think. Focus. Concentrate.

  "You should have just trusted me," Cal was saying. "I know so much more than you do. My mother is so much more powerful than you. You're a student—why didn't you just trust me?"

  My door was locked. If I could open it, I could maybe tumble out somehow. And get crushed beneath the wheels since I probably couldn't leap out of the way. Could I unroll my window and shout for help? Would anyone in town recognize my car and wonder why I wasn't driving it?

  I tried to clench my right hand and saw with dismay that I could barely curl up my first knuckle.

  The night of my birthday, when Cal had put the binding spells on me, I had somehow managed to break free. I had pushed, with my mind, like tearing through plastic, and then I had been able to move. Could I do that now?

  We raced through downtown Widow's Vale, the three stoplights, the lit storefronts, the cars on their way home. I peered up over my window, hoping someone, anyone, would see me. Would Cal get stopped for speeding? I almost cried as a moment later we passed through downtown and were on the less traveled road that led toward Cal's house. Panic threatened to overtake me again, and I stamped it down.