I am of Belwicket, I thought. I am a Riordan witch. The woods and the snow faded around me, to be replaced by green hills worn smooth by time and weather. A woman strode forward, a woman with a plain, work-lined face. Mackenna. She held out tools, witch's tools, and a young woman wearing a clover crown took them. Maeve. Then Maeve turned and handed them to me, and I saw my hand reaching out to take them. Holding them, I turned again and held them out to a tall, fair girl, whose hazel eyes held excitement, fear, and eagerness. My daughter, the one I would have one day. Her name echoed in my mind: Moira.
My chest swelled with awe. I knew it was time to let the power go. But what to do with it, where to direct this power that could uproot trees and make stones bleed? Should I turn it inward, keep it within myself for a time when I might need it? My very hands could be instruments of magick; my eyes could be lightning. No. I knew what to do. Planting my feet in the churned snow beneath me, I flung my arms outward again and came to a stop. "I send this power to you, Goddess!" I cried, my throat hoarse from chanting. "I send it to you in thanks and blessing! May you always send the power for good, like my mother, her mother, her mother before her, and on through the generations. Take this power: it is my gift to you, in thanks for all you have given me."
Suddenly I was in the vortex of a tornado. My breath was pulled from my lungs, so that I gasped and sank to my knees. The wind embraced me, so that I felt crushed within strong arms. And a huge clap of thunder rang in my ears, leaving me shaken and trembling in the silence that followed, my head bowed to the snow, my hair wet with perspiration.
I don't know how long I crouched there, humbled by the power I myself had raised. I had left this morning's Morgan behind, to be replaced by a new, stronger Morgan: a Morgan with a newfound faith and a truly awesome power, gifted by the Goddess herself.
Slowly my breathing steadied, slowly I felt the normal silence of the woods fill my ears. Both drained and at peace, I raised my head to see if the very balance of nature had shifted.
Before me sat Sky Eventide.
CHAPTER 15
Visions
February 2001
They have accepted me at last. I am the council's newset member—and its youngest, the most junior member of the third ring. I'm one of more than a thousand workers for Wiccan law. But my assigned role is that of Seeker, as I requested. I've been given my tools, the braigh and the books, and Kennet Muir has been assigned as my mentor. He and I have spent the past week going over my new duties.
Now I have been given my first task. There is a man in Cornwell who is accused of causing his neighbor's milk cows to sicken and die. I'm going down there today to investigate.
Athar has offered to come with me. I didn't tell her how glad I was of her offer, but I could see that she understood nonetheless. She is a good friend to me.
— Giomanach
Sky was perched on a snow-covered log about fifteen feet away from me. Her eyes were almond-shaped pools of black. She looked pale with cold and very still, as if she had been waiting a long time. Kicking in after the fact, my senses picked up on her presence.
She casually brushed off one knee, then clasped her gloved hands together.
"Who are you?" she said conversationally, her English accent as crisp and cool as the snow around us.
"Morgan," I was startled into replying.
"No. Who are you?" she repeated. "You're the most powerful witch I've ever seen. You're not some uninitiated student. You're a true power conduit. So who are you, and why are you here? And can you help me and my cousin?"
Suddenly I was chilled. Steam was coming off me in visible waves. My skin was damp and now turning clammy with sweat, and I felt vulnerable, naked beneath my robe.
Keeping one eye on Sky, I dismantled my circle swiftly and packed away my tools. Then I sat on the boulder and dressed, trying to act casual, as if getting dressed in front of a relative stranger in the woods was an everyday thing. Sky waited, her gaze focused on me. I folded Maeve's robe and put it back in my box, and then I turned to face Sky again.
"What do you want?" I demanded. "How long have you been spying on me?"
"Long enough to wonder who the hell you are," she said. "Are you really the daughter of Maeve of Belwicket?"
I met her eyes without responding.
"How old are you?"
A harmless question. "I just turned seventeen."
"Who have you been studying with?"
"You know who. Cal."
Her eyes narrowed. "Who else? Who before Cal?"
"No one," I said in surprise. "I only started learning about Wicca three months ago."
"This is impossible," she muttered. "How can you call on the Power? How can you use those tools without being destroyed?"
Suddenly I wanted to answer her, wanted to share with her what I had just experienced. "I just—the Power just comes to me. It wants to come to me. And the tools… are mine. They're for me to use. They want me to use them. They beckon me."
Sky sighed.
"Who are you?" I asked, thinking it was time she answered some questions herself. "I know you're Sky Eventide, you're from England, you're Hunter's cousin, and he calls you Athar." I thought back to what I had learned during the tath thing with Hunter. "You grew up together."
"Yes."
"What are you doing with Bree and Raven?" I demanded.
After a pause she said, "I don't trust you. I don't want to tell you things only to have you tell Cal and his mother."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why are you even here? How did you know where to find me? Why do you and Hunter keep spying on me?"
Conflicting emotions crossed Sky's face.
"I felt a big power draw," she said. "I came to see what it was. I was in my car, heading north, and suddenly I felt it."
"I don't trust you, either," I said flatly.
We looked at each other for long minutes, there in the woods. Sometimes I heard clumps of snow falling off branches or heard the quick flap of a bird's wings. But we were in our own private world, Sky and I, and I knew that whatever happened here would have far-reaching consequences.
"I'm teaching Bree, Raven, Thalia, and the others basic Wiccan tenets," Sky said stiffly. "If I've told them about the dark side, it was only for their protection."
"Why are you in America?"
She sighed again. "Hunter had to come here on council business. He told you he's been doing research about the dark wave, right? He's combining his research with his duties as a Seeker. I get worried about him—all our family does. He's treading on dangerous ground, and we didn't want something bad to happen to him. So I offered to keep him company."
Remembering what Hunter's council duties were, I felt my fists clench. "Why is he investigating Cal and Selene?"
Sky regarded me evenly. "The council suspects they've been misusing their powers."
"In what way?" I cried.
Her dark eyes gazed deeply into mine. "I can't tell you," she whispered. "Hunter believes you're not knowingly involved with their plan. He saw that when you two were in tath meanma. But I'm not so sure. Maybe you're so powerful that you can hide your mind from others."
"You can't believe that," I said.
"I don't know what to believe. I do know that I don't trust Cal and Selene, and I fear they're capable of more evil than you can imagine."