"I'm sorry, honey," Morgan said. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
"I wish… I wish you had just told me the truth," Moira said.
"I know. I wish I had, too." Morgan pulled back and looked at Moira, brushing some damp hair out of her face. "But you're my family, and I'm yours. And that's all that matters."
Looking a little teary-eyed herself, Moira nodded.
Morgan started to draw her into the warmth and light of the house, but Moira paused, looking at the walk.
"I stepped on something," she said.
"A stone?"
"No." Moira looked, then leaned over and picked up something shiny from the brick path. "Here," she said, handing it to Morgan. "Did you drop this?"
Squinting, Morgan turned sideways in the door so the inside light would fall on her palm. Small, silver, a bit crusty but still glinting. She brushed some of the dirt away as Moira eased past her into the house.
It was a ring-who could have dropped it? She brushed more of the dirt away. Keady, maybe? Katrina? Oh, Goddess.
Morgan's heart clenched, and she wondered if she were dreaming again. It was a silver claddagh ring. They weren't uncommon in Ireland-many people wore them. But no one had one with the rune Beorc, for new beginnings, engraved on the inside. This was Morgan's ring, the one Hunter had given her a lifetime ago. This was the ring that had flown off her finger that day in Wales, when the ferry went down. And now here it was, appearing on her doorstop an hour after she'd seen Hunter.
Her eyes huge, Morgan stared at Moira. There were no words to describe what she was feeling, the emotions she was being assaulted with. She was losing her mind-she felt like she was about to collapse right there, in front of all of them. Who was doing this to her? Making her heart break all over again, when it had broken so many times already?
"Is it yours?" Moira asked. "Do you recognize it?"
Morgan managed a nod. The room swam around her; her breath came shallowly.
"Mum? You don't… feel right." Moira sounded worried. "Maybe you should sit down."
Morgan couldn't move until Moira took her elbow and led her to a dining chair. Her ring. It had fallen into the sea, with Hunter, her love. It had been torn away from her, wrenched away just as Hunter had been. How had the ring come back here? Only Sky, Bree, and Mary K. knew how she had lost it. Goddess, why was Hunter suddenly everywhere in her life, when he'd been taken from her so many years ago? The pain was too much, too much to bear.
Someone had deliberately put the ring there for her to find. Like the morganite. And it didn't make sense that it was Lilith-this had to be someone close to Morgan. Someone who knew her well. And the ring and the morganite, the vision and the dream, the scrying-they were all pieces of a puzzle, a horrible maze closing around her, scaring her, trying to drive her mad. I'm under siege. Goddess, I'm in danger. And Hunter-my Hunter-is the weapon.
"Mum, what's wrong?" Moira looked frightened. "What is it? The ring? Mum, you're scaring me!"
Morgan had no idea where to begin. Goddess, she didn't know if she could handle this. How many secrets had she kept from her daughter? Cal and Selene. Ciaran. Now Hunter? How many huge confidences could Moira handle in one week? How many more could Morgan handle? It was as if the whole tapestry of her life with Moira was becoming unraveled and not slowly, thread by thread-it was being torn, rent into pieces, and the ripping was painful and unexpected, leaving Morgan bare and vulnerable.
Her ring. She slid it onto the ring finger of her right hand. It fit perfectly, the silver warming instantly to the temperature of her blood. Her ring.
"Morgan…" Killian looked at her with concern. "Are you all right?"
"Thank you," Morgan said, speaking as if from a great distance. "I think so."
"Perhaps we should give Morgan some time," Katrina suggested gently. "Maybe you want to return to your lodgings, Killian?"
"If you're quite sure," he said, looking at Morgan.
She nodded. "Yes, I think… that might be best," she said, her voice strained.
"Well, then, I'll bid you all good night," he said, standing up. "I'm staying at Armistead's if you need me. Don't hesitate to call."
"Thank you." Morgan spoke automatically. He leaned over and pecked Moira on the cheek. "I'm glad I met you," he said. Then he and Morgan kissed each other's cheeks, and he let himself out.
"Mum, you look like you've seen a ghost," Moira said. "Are you going to tell me what is going on?"
Morgan was reluctant to speak in front of Katrina. Katrina knew all about Hunter, of course. But this was a moment that needed to happen between just mother and daughter, in private. She glanced at her mother-in-law.
As if divining her thoughts, Katrina stood. "I'd best be off," she said. "Didn't mean to stay so late."
"Let me give you a ride home-it's late," Morgan said, walking Katrina to the door.
"No, lass." Katrina shook her head. "The walk is good for me. You are needed here."
At the door Katrina paused, looking into Morgan's face. "It was Hunter we saw, wasn't it?" she said, glancing back to see if Moira could hear their conversation. "What do you make of it?"
"Yes, it was. I don't know what to make of anything anymore," Morgan said, feeling lost in a way that she hadn't felt since Colm had died.
"Call me if you want to talk," Katrina said, and Morgan nodded. They hugged quickly and Katrina began to walk down the path, her stiff leg making her gait awkward.
"Be safe, be quick, be home in a tick," Morgan murmured automatically. When she turned around, Moira was still sitting at the table, her head in her hands-someone waiting for bad news. She raised her head and glared at Morgan.
"Tell me what's going on," Moira said through clenched teeth. Morgan sighed. Goddess give her strength. "This ring… was given to me by someone I knew before your dad."
Moira sat up straighten interested. "Someone? Who? Mum, just tell me."
Morgan sat at the table beside Moira. "How far have you gotten in my old Books of Shadows?" she asked.
Moira shrugged. "I've been jumping around," she said.
Morgan nodded. "Well, then, maybe you haven't read much about him yet, or at least about what he ended up meaning to me. Moira, there was someone special to me before your father." She looked into Moira's eyes, unsure of how to go on. "He… he was my muirn beatha dan."
Moira flinched, pain flashing across her face. "Da wasn't?"
Morgan shook her head regretfully. "Your dad and I loved each other very much, but we weren't each other's muirn beatha dans. His name was Hunter. Hunter Niall. He was the Seeker who was sent after Cal and Selene." She stared at the worn tabletop, lost in the pain of remembering. "How I felt about him was unlike anything I had known. It was how love should be. We were made to be together, two halves of a whole."
Moira looked down at the table, shifting uncomfortably. "I always thought-I mean, that's what you and da seemed like to me."
Morgan's heart squeezed. "Moira, I'm sorry, I know this is hard…."
Moira let out a harsh laugh. "What isn't, lately," she said. She stared out the window, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer. "So what happened?" she asked. "With you and this guy, Hunter?"