“Please.” Morgan held up her hand. “Could we not waste time? What are we going to do?”
“I think I might have an idea,” Hunter said slowly.
“This is going to feel terrible,” Hunter warned me. My hair was whipping around in the wind, as was Morgan’s. She quickly stuffed hers down the back of her coat, and I did the same. Here in the old Methodist cemetery the air felt weird, like it had an actual weight that was pressing down on us—humid but cold. We were standing before the power sink, listening as Hunter explained his big idea. Mr. Niall’s head was was bowed, and he was bent over on himself.
“What do you call it again?” I asked.
Hunter smiled wanly.“A tàth meànma.”
I frowned, still confused. “And why can’t I just connect—or whatever—with Mr. Niall?”
Hunter cast a glance at his father, who appeared to be in too much pain to be paying much attention. “Because my da isn’t strong enough,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t have enough power right now to connect with you and still stay a safe distance from the dark wave. Morgan has enough power for both of them, essentially, and she’ll be able to hold you two together.” He looked at me. “Make sense?”
I nodded. “And, um... why will it hurt?” Not that it mattered.
Morgan smiled weakly. “Before you do a tàth meànma like this, it’s best to do purification rituals, fast, drink herbal tea, and so on,” she explained. “For a little tàth meànma, it doesn’t matter so much. For one like this, it would have been better. It’s going to feel bad for me, too.” She made a pained expression.
“Great.” I smiled wanly.“And where will you be?”
“The field across the road, on the other side of the woods. I’ll be close enough to keep contact, but I hope not close enough to get hit.”
A sudden sob rose in my throat and I pressed my lips together hard. Sure, we were going to try Hunter’s big idea, but in the end it was up to me, and I’m not hero material by any stretch of the imagination. I had worked as hard as I as I knew how, I would try my best, but my best just might not be good enough. The truth was, if I didn’t come through, we had all gathered out here to die. I wouldn’t have to be a flower girl for Hilary after all.
“Okay,” I said, trying to sound somewhat less terrified than I was.
“And Daniel will be farther away than that, on the other side of Morgan,” Hunter explained. “He can keep in touch with Morgan, and Morgan will keep in touch with you, and we’ll do this thing. Right?”
“Right,” I said, not meaning it. This was Hunter’s idea: I would still perform the spell, but my mind would be linked with Morgan’s. Her mind would be linked with Mr. Niall’s, and he would feed her lines if necessary that she could pass on to me. Hunter was going to stay here at the power sink with me, watching my movements and coaching me. He knew what to look for, even if he couldn’t do it himself.
A chill wind smacked my face at that moment. I looked up, and on the far horizon was a hovering cloud of what looked like fine ash. It was roiling, boiling, rolling toward Widow’s Vale, like an impossibly large swarm of insects.
Hunter glanced up at the sky, then at his dad, who seemed to be crumpling. “Right, everyone. Let’s get going. It’s on its way.”
Morgan, looking pale and tense, stood facing me. We put our hands on each other’s shoulders. Slowly we came together, so that our foreheads touched. Morgan’s was icy cold and clammy. We both had long hair, and now the angry wind twisted the strands together around our heads. I was dimly aware of Hunter and Mr. Niall leaving, and I knew Hunter would be back. Then I shut my eyes and concentrated, the way they had told me to do. Basically I was supposed to meditate and clear my mind and let Morgan do all the heavy lifting.
I stood there, the wind creeping under my coat like icicles, and wondered when this was all going to get started. Then my consciousness seemed to wink, and I felt a fine, pointed pain, as if a metal claw were clamping down on my skull. Just as I was starting to think I couldn’t stand any more of this, Morgan was there, in my mind.
“Relax,” her voice came to me, though I knew my ears weren’t hearing it. “Let everything go. In this moment, you are safe and everything is perfect. Let everything relax. Take down your walls, and let me in.”
“It hurts,” I said, feeling like a sissy.
“I know,” Morgan said. “I feel it, too. We have to let go of it.”
I thought about taking down walls, and slowly I realized that Morgan and I were somehow joined—I could see inside her, and she could see inside me: we were one person. I felt an unexpected elation—this was beautiful, magickal, exciting. It was a glow of golden light, surrounded by a corona of finely etched pain. I thought of what the moon’s shadow looked like as it moved across the sun.
Then I followed Morgan deeper into her mind. There I saw all her knowledge of magick, her feelings for Hunter, all this stuff about Ciaran—I felt Morgan deliberately leading me away from her personal thoughts.
“Focus,” came her voice, gentle and strong. “I’m going to leave now, but we’ll stay joined. Soon you’ll feel just a bit of Mr. Niall. We’ll stay with you the whole time. You will be able to do this. You have all the support you need. You’re a strong, beautiful witch, and with this one act, one spell, you will set your life on an exhilarating path.”
This wasn’t how Morgan usually talked, but I had the feeling it was who she really was, inside. On the outside she was kind of shy and hard to get to know. Inside, she was glowing and powerful and ancient.
“Focus,” came her voice.
Slowly I opened my eyes, feeling nausea trying to take over. I clamped it down and tried to forget about it. Outside, it was almost as dark as night. What little light there was looked strange, tinted with an almost greenish hue, as if right before an eclipse. Bits of last year’s leaves were whipping around, swirling in tiny dust devils on top of headstones. Feeling dreamy, relaxed, and stupidly confident, I saw Hunter coming back through the woods. I felt Morgan’s awareness of him through my eyes, felt her rush of love, of longing, of uncertainty. I tried not to pay attention to it.
Hunter’s eyes looked huge and green, with dark hollows beneath them. His face was white and looked carved out of marble, his cheekbones angled sharply, the skin stretched tight.
“Begin,” he said.
It was an incredibly weird feeling, being connected to Morgan. As long as I didn’t think about it, I was okay. Whenever I remembered it again, I felt a rush of pain and nausea. Hunter handed me a large bowl of salt, and with this I traced a circle of protection on the ground. He helped by placing stones of power and protection all around that circle. Then I buried my hands in the salt and rubbed it against my skin. The rest I sprinkled around me. I had four embossed silver bowls that Hunter had given me. In one was dirt, in another water. In one was a tiny fire that Morgan had kindled, so it wasn’t affected by the wind, and in the last was incense burning with an orange glow. I put these cups at east, south, west, and north to represent the four elements. Mr. Niall had had given me a gold pocket watch, and I set that in the center of my circle. Then I was ready to begin the first part. It should take almost twenty minutes, if I did it correctly.
Just as I raised my arms, I felt a shimmering presence: Mr. Niall. In my mind he was called Maghach, but Morgan was just called Morgan. After a moment to get used to this new presence, I took a deep, cleansing breath, released it, and began.
“On this day, at this hour, I invoke the Goddess and the God,” I said, holding my arms skyward. “You who are pure in your intent, aid me in this spell. By earth and water and fire and air, strengthen this spell. By spring and summer and fall and winter, strengthen this spell. By witches both past and present, of my blood and not of my blood, strengthen this spell. Help my heart be pure, my crafting joyous, my hands sure and steady, and my mind open to receive your wisdom.”