Morgan had already left Lilith and was walking to the car when Sky said softly,"Morgan?"
Morgan turned to look at her, and Sky met her gaze, then flicked her glance over to Lilith, still on the ground. Quickly Morgan turned and strode back to the high priestess of Ealltuinn. "I release you," she said, her voice low and steady. Her hand sprang open, and with an audible gasp Lilith seemed to melt onto her doorstep. "Mother?" Ian said, his hand on her shoulder. He gave the three of them a last glance, then went inside to return moments later with a blanket, which he pulled over his mother. Her face was waxen, and the blood from her nose shone dark and red against her skin.
Morgan turned again and walked to the car, her back stiff, hands hanging like claws from her sides.
Moira followed her quickly, sliding into the backseat as Sky started the car. She still couldn't believe what she'd just seen- her own mother had hurt someone on purpose. Had frightened and threatened someone. Bound someone. Miserably Moira leaned her head against the window, wishing she could just shut down and stop thinking, stop feeling.
In the front seat she saw Sky glance quickly at Morgan, saw her mother's shoulders bend and her head droop-and then she heard her mother start to cry. Not just smothered sniffles, but huge, heaving sobs.
Then Moira remembered one of the most basic Wiccan teachings, the threefold rule-What you send out comes back to you-times three. Morgan had just sent horrible pain to Lilith-what would be returned to her or to Moira and Sky for participating?
Sky shifted the car into a higher gear, and Moira saw that they were going back toward town, where Sky could get on the highway going north. "Morgan, it's all right," Sky said. "You need to be strong now. You had to do it. For Hunter."
"Oh, Goddess," Morgan sobbed. "What have I become? Who am I?" And she cried harder. Those were the only words Moira heard her mother say the rest of the night.
16. Morgan
In the end it took almost seven hours of driving to get to County Donegal. There was little traffic, but the roads were small and often curvy or hilly. Dawn was starting to break when Sky stopped the car not far from Arsdeth.
Morgan looked back at her daughter, sleeping in the backseat. What had she been thinking, dragging Moira into this? Moira ought to be at home, just waking up to go to school. Some mother she was. Oh, Colm, help. Colm had been her rock, her anchor, all those years. It was his steady presence that had allowed her to put her painful past behind her. His gentle insistence that she live in the present, that she continue to find joy and meaning in her life was what had enabled her to fulfill her dream of becoming a healer.
Nearly twenty years ago she'd thought she'd seen the last of truly dark magick. For all these years in Ireland with Colm, it had been a triumph to live a quiet, satisfying life, filled with healing rites, study, school, and Saturday night circles. Now this, plunging back into strong, hurtful magick, dealing with people who reveled in darkness and pain-it was so deeply wrong. That outside forces were causing her to sink back into darkness and fear, rage and revenge, filled her with fury. She was the Destroyer. She would end this, here and now.
Next to her Sky was looking fatigued. She had worked a couple of keep-awake spells during the night but hadn't let Morgan share the driving. Morgan had cried for an hour, and by then they had been on the highway and Moira had fallen asleep. They had thrown a blanket over her when Sky had stopped for gas, and when they got back in the car, Sky had glanced over at Morgan and said, "Bloody hell."
There had been blood on the front of Morgan's sweatshirt.
When the bleeding had abated, Sky had convinced Morgan to rest for a while.
Now, with dawn approaching, Morgan was feeling better. At least she wasn't crying anymore or oozing blood.
"We don't have a plan," said Morgan, and Sky made a noise like a bitter chuckle.
"Let's turn around and go back home, then," she said.
"You know-we could be walking into a trap here," Morgan said. If Hunter was alive, why was Iona just now letting Morgan glimpse the truth? Could they even trust Lilith's information? These signs that had been coming to her… they had a purpose behind them. Had Lilith set Moira up to «catch» her scrying for Hunter? She certainly hadn't been very careful about hiding the image from Moira, and if she was behind those hexes and spells at Morgan's house, then she was capable of more secretive magick. Then there was Hunter's warning, too, not to come. It all pointed to the fact that this was a trap, Iona wanted Morgan to search for Hunter-but why?
Trap or no, Morgan couldn't stop now. She had to find Hunter.
"I know," Sky said. "But what choice do we have?"
"I should have left Moira at home," Morgan said.
Sky shrugged. "This is her life, her father. She would never have allowed us to leave her behind."
"Maybe so."
"And Morgan… you need her right now. Hunter needs her."
Morgan swallowed hard, thinking about this.
Behind them Moira stirred, then sat up, yawning. "Where are we?" she asked, and then Morgan watched the memories of the night before cross her face.
"Almost to Iona's," Sky answered her. Turning, she said, "I have a friend who lives not far from here. Maybe I should call her and you could stay there, just for today. Your mum and I don't know what's going to happen."
Morgan was grateful the suggestion came from Sky, but not unexpectedly, Moira's reaction was an instant furrowing of the brow, a determined expression on her face. "No, thank you."
Morgan turned to face her daughter. "Moira, last night was terrible. But it was nothing compared to what we might be facing. I can't guarantee that Iona won't be expecting us, that we're not heading into a trap. In fact, I'm sure we are." Morgan shook her head, thinking with dread of what might lie before them. "All my instincts are telling me to run a thousand miles from this situation, but I can't-not if Hunter's still alive. That's my choice, but it doesn't have to be yours." She looked deeply into Moira's hazel eyes, like her own, but with slightly less brown, slightly more green. "We lost your dad six months ago. I can't risk anything happening to you. I can't let it. Iona could be much worse than Lilith ever was. Please, go to Sky's friend's house."
"No."
"I wonder where she gets that from?" Sky murmured.
Sky had the foresight to begin casting pathfinding spells while they were still almost twenty kilometers-a good half hour or forty-five minutes-away. Even with the spells, they took wrong turns and got lost twice. Without them, they never would have found their way at all.
Arsdeth itself was a small, unremarkable village, not as quaint as some more southern towns, but with an older feel to it. It was rougher, less civilized in a way, with bits and pieces of ancient castles visible in the distance.
On a side street in Arsdeth they stopped the car and Morgan scried. She closed her eyes, lit a candle she placed carefully on the dashboard, and called images of fire to her, building her own power and strength. She pictured Iona as she remembered her from Ciaran's funeral, then asked the Goddess to show her the way to her. In her mind she wandered down roads, turning, heading north, then east, then north again. Eventually she saw the house, an ugly redbrick saltbox, with white-painted window frames and doorway.
"Okay, head north." She consulted their map. "We'll hit it up at this intersection. Then I'll tell you where to turn."
"Right, then," Sky said, shifting into a higher gear. "Let's go wring some information out of this woman."