"I don't know anymore," Morgan answered. "I can't see how any of them would know about Hunter…."
Sky met her gaze, and neither said anything. But Sky's eyes were filled with the same mixture of hope, desperation, and fear that Morgan felt. And Morgan even noticed Sky's hands trembling slightly. It was all either could do not to break down from the torture of needing to know if Hunter was really alive.
"We're almost finished," Sky said quietly, resuming her work.
In front of each of the garden gates they drew seven lines of protection so anyone entering with harmful intentions would find themselves slowed and perhaps even too confused to follow the path. Last but not least, the two women stood together and chanted the strongest power chants they knew, overlaying them with ribbons of protection, of ward evil, of warning, of reflection of harm. They went around the whole yard, all around the house and the back garden, singing and chanting, dispelling the last of the negative energy and replacing it with strong positive energy.
"Whew. That's done, and done well," Sky said, glancing at the sun's position when they were through. "Must be almost four."
"Moira will be home soon," Morgan agreed.
Inside the house, Morgan made a pot of strong tea. While they waited for Moira, she and Sky exchanged small talk, avoiding the one topic Morgan knew was all either could really think about.
"Alwyn's expecting a baby," Sky told her.
"So's Mary K.," Morgan said. "Twins, in fact. I'm going to be an aunt. I can't believe it's taken her so long. I thought she'd have nine kids by now."
Sky grinned, then seemed to listen for a moment "Someone's coming."
"It's Katrina," said Morgan, casting her senses. She got up to let her mother-in-law in, then introduced her to Sky. "Hello," said Katrina. "Morgan's mentioned you to me."
"Pleasure," Sky said with her natural reserve.
"Sit down," Morgan said. "I'll get you a cup."
Katrina took a chair, resting her walking stick against the side cupboard.
"Don't get old," she advised Morgan and Sky. "Christa Ryan tells me to walk two miles each day or become as stiff as an old board, so I do, but I'd rather be home working crosswords in front of the fire."
"Do you want me to try to help?" Morgan offered.
"Nae, lass. It's just these old bones. Don't trouble yourself," Katrina said, taking a sip of tea. Morgan had made the suggestion before that she try to heal Katrina's arthritis, but Katrina always shrugged her off.
Nodding, Morgan glanced at the clock. It was hard not to want Moira by her side every minute. She sent her daughter a witch message. Don't be late. Not today.
13. Moira
Moira was torn as she approached her house that afternoon. Sitting through classes had been torture, when all she could think about was all the questions she still had about Ciaran, her mum's past, and… Colm and Hunter. But she didn't want to face her mother yet, either. Still, she'd received the witch message from Morgan just as school had ended, warning her to come straight home-that it was important.
What now?
Moira took a deep breath, then opened the front door and saw her mum, Gran, and Sky sitting at the kitchen table.
"Hi, sweetie," Mum said.
"Hi." Moira dumped her book bag and sweater on the chair. "Hi, Gran. Sky."
"How was your day, love?" Katrina asked.
Moira frowned. She didn't want to talk about her day- she wanted to know why she'd had to come home so quickly. She tried to read her mother's face, but Morgan wouldn't meet her gaze. Then she sniffed the air. "Sage?" "Yes," Sky said, when Morgan didn't answer. "We had to do some purification on the house."
"What do you mean?" Moira asked.
"Someone had put some bad-luck sigils around the yard," Sky said. "Your mum and I cleared them out."
Looking first at her mother, then at Sky, Moira said, "Bad-luck sigils… who would do that?"
"Perhaps someone from Ealltuinn," Katrina said. "But we're not sure. It's not safe for you. For any of us. We need you to stay here, where we can protect you."
Not Lilith, Moira thought in dismay as she sank into a chair at the table. Not Ian.
Finally Morgan looked into Moira's eyes. "Do you understand?" she said. "This is very serious, Moira. The coven is in danger. We are in danger."
"Okay," Moira said. She'd never seen her mum and Gran like this before. "I'll be careful." She glanced back and forth between Morgan and Gran. They looked scared but determined. Especially her mother. This morning's conversation had done little to erase her doubts. Now might not be the best time, but Moira had to know the truth about her father, about her birth, and she sensed somehow that the only way to get it was to ask her questions now, with Mum and Gran here.
Moira cleared her throat. "So, Mum, did you tell Gran about my dream? About this morning?" she asked.
Morgan blinked, surprised at Moira's question. "No, I… there's a lot going on right now, a lot-"
"I had this dream," Moira said slowly to Gran, cutting off her mum. "And in the dream my dad, he… he wasn't my dad. He was someone else." "We've talked about this," Morgan said firmly. "Colm is your father, Moira."
Moira kept her gaze on Gran, focusing her powers on trying to feel Gran's response to her description of the dream. She's uncomfortable, Moira realized, feeling a growing dread. Just like she was the other day, when I kept asking her what she meant about helping my mother heal.
"Remember what you were saying to me?" Moira continued, surprised at how calm she sounded with the turmoil of emotions inside her. "About how you helped to soothe my mother's troubles after Hunter's accident?"
"Katrina, what's Moira talking about?" Morgan asked curiously.
Gran looked down at her teacup. "Yes, well…" Her voice trailed off.
"I just want to understand it," Moira said earnestly, leaning forward. "I've been reading Mum's and Dad's old Books of Shadows, so I have it from their view. But what do you remember about it?"
"It was a hard time," Gran said slowly. "We all do what we think is best."
Moira looked at Morgan, who seemed concerned.
"Katrina, are you all right?" Morgan asked.
"The weird thing is," Moira went on, wishing she could let this whole thing drop-wishing she weren't feeling more and more certain that this would lead to an answer she didn't want to hear. "The dates don't match up in the Books of Shadows. The dates when Mum and Da got married and when I was born."
Gran shook her head and gazed into her tea. "It's about time it all caught up with me," she said. "What are you talking about? Are you sure you're all right?" Mum's face was pale, even paler than it had been when Moira had first walked in.
Gran looked up and met Morgan's eyes. "You don't remember much about that time, do you?"
Mum let out a breath, the way she did when she was tense. "Well," she said slowly, "not a lot. I was… so upset. Upset and sick. I hardly remember coming back to Ireland. I was in the hospital, in Wales. I had pneumonia."
It was almost as if Moira could see a wave of sadness settle on Morgan like a shawl.
"Yes, you had pneumonia, and you were beside yourself with grief," Gran told her. "Your love had died in that storm, and it was like most of you died with him."
Moira had never heard Gran talk like this-talking about Mum's past. No one ever had mentioned Hunter until this past week. It was as if a ghost had been living in their house all these years, silent arid unacknowledged.
Gran looked directly at Moira. "Your mother was the descendant of our ancestral high priestesses," she said. "You know that. You know how Grandda and I found out your mum was alive and went to find her to help us restore Belwicket."