"Now!" Sky yelled out loud, then coughed. "All of you twelve, send your powers to Moira and Ian! Chant your protection spells! All of us together!"
Then her mum shouted, "Ignite it!"
Her mum believed in her. She believed Moira could stop the dark wave. Now it was time for Moira to believe in herself. She reached into the very deepest reserve she had, summoned her last bit of strength, and slowly, slowly staggered to her feet. I call on you, she thought, imagining her strong and powerful ancestors-her mother, her grandmother, Maeve, and everyone before them. I call on your power. It was amazing, the rush of energy that suddenly flowed through her. She could do this. She was Moira of Belwicket, daughter of the sgiurs dan, fated to be born. Today, this moment, she would prove her birthright. Yes. I must. It's up to me. With a huge effort Moira threw up her hands. With her last breath she shouted the ancient Gaelic words that would ignite the spell. Her hair was blowing backward, she was struggling to keep her balance, but again she shouted it, louder this time. Next to Moira, Ian also shouted, his arms out from his sides. A third time they shouted the words.
What's wrong? Moira wondered hysterically. It should have stopped! What's wrong? What did we do wrong? We missed something, we skipped something, Hunter misremem- bered. The spell was wrong.
She watched in horror as the people forming the line of protection scattered, running to the sides of the road and flinging themselves down face-first. Then the cloud was upon them, barely licking the place where Moira and Ian stood.
I'm going to die, Moira thought with one last moment of clarity.
Then suddenly a rip appeared in the fabric of the universe, an odd, eye-shaped nether place. A bith dearc, Moira realized. In a split second the dark cloud was sucked into the rip with more force than one could imagine, like a plane suddenly becoming depressurized at thirty thousand feet. The wave, large enough to cover a field, was pulled through the bith dearc in a matter of seconds. Moira fell to the ground, her hands sinking into the soft mud. It seemed to root her to the earth, and she grabbed a tough clump of muddy grass and held on to it. She saw Ian fall. He'd been standing a fraction of an inch closer to the bith dearc, and he was being pulled inexorably toward the opening. In another second he would be through.
"Moira!" Morgan shouted, racing toward them. "Moira!" Ian was on his stomach, clawing at the ground, his eyes wide. Without hesitation Moira reached out and grabbed his hands, the mud making them slick. There was a half-buried rock in the ground and she braced her sneakers against it, leaning back and pulling with all her might. Feeling as if she were in slow motion, Moira gave a huge heave, her teeth gritted, eyes screwed shut, veins popping on her neck. Then all at once Ian was free and the bith dearc sealed seamlessly, leaving no trace of ever having been there.
Moira's mum dropped down next to her, grabbing her and holding on tightly, tightly. Sky skidded to a halt next to her, grabbing Ian’s leg, anxiously making sure he was all right. Behind them Hunter knelt down awkwardly, breathing lightly and shallowly, a clammy sweat dewing his skeletal face.
Moira put her muddy arms around her mum and hugged her back. Then she pulled away and turned around. "Is Ian all right?" she asked shakily.
Ian nodded. He was sitting back in the dirt of the road, looking stunned, sweat only now breaking out on his forehead. "You saved my life," he whispered.
Morgan laughed, brushing Moira's hair off her face, "You saved us," she said, her eyes shining with obvious relief, joy, and pride.
Moira smiled. Then, with no warning, she covered her eyes with one hand and started to weep.
20. Morgan
"I see," Morgan murmured into the phone. "Yes, yes, I think that would be best. When? Tomorrow. I think we can do that. It will be late tomorrow, though."
Hanging up, she looked over at the table to see four pairs of eyes watching her inquisitively. Morgan sat down and put her hand on Ian’s arm. "The New Charter has found your mother and eight of her followers at the border between England and Scotland. They wanted to know if I could come up to identify Lilith and file formal charges against her."
Ian looked down at his bowl, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. Sky, Hunter, and Moira waited sympathetically. They'd all been gingerly hunched over bowls of soup for lunch. It had been only two days since the dark wave, and everyone still felt awful. Morgan was drained but had been busy creating teas and herbal concoctions for everyone in the area. She'd also tried to work some magickal healing but found it strained her still-weak powers. Right now they had to let time do its work.
"What are you going to do?" Ian asked quietly.
"I'm going to go identify her," Morgan said gently. "And file formal charges against her."
He nodded, still looking at his bowl. "Can I go with you?"
"Of course."
Only Morgan and Ian went. Sky had wanted to be there to see for herself that Lilith was being punished, but they agreed it was better for her to stay home and watch Hunter while Moira was in school. He was still unsteady on his feet sometimes, weak, and also just absentminded and foggy. He looked slightly more normal, with short hair and no beard, and his bruises and face slashes were healing well. But he couldn't eat very much, and his nightmares would take a long time to work through. He had settled into the guest room at Morgan's house, and Sky had moved down to the couch.
There was no reason for Moira to go. She, too, was still healing both physically and mentally and wouldn't add much to Morgan's testimony. She and Hunter were getting to know each other, and one of the first times he'd smiled was when she had cracked a dry joke. Morgan and Sky had looked blank, and Hunter had been the only one to get it. Morgan smiled, remembering it.
Sky hadn't been in America twenty years ago when they'd battled the last dark wave, and this had been her first experience with one. It had left her as shaken and drained as the others. Morgan envied her these few days alone with Hunter, getting to know each other again, picking up where they had left off. But as soon as her obligation with Lilith was over, she would rush back. Despite having the rest of her life to spend with him, she felt a need to seize every minute.
She looked over at Ian, pretending to read in the train seat next to her. After the wave had gone, the coven had met back at Katrina's store to comfort and help each other. Katrina had come forward and offered to let Ian stay with her, and he had agreed, at least for a while. He knew his mother would probably never come back to share their house again.
"This is going to be hard," Morgan said sympathetically.
Ian nodded, then sighed. "She was all I had," he said. "I've no idea where my dad is. Don't really want to find him, anyway. Mum had been getting worse and worse, and I just didn't want to see it. Our house-" He shrugged. "Maybe in a while I can go back to it."
"Take your time," Morgan said.
For a moment Ian looked as if he wanted to say something, then thought better of it.
"What?" Morgan prompted him.
"You're Ciaran's MacEwan's daughter," Ian said hesitantly. "You… you know. Did you… did you love him?"
Morgan hesitated, understanding Ian’s pain all too well. "I didn't really know Ciaran," Morgan said. "Actually I only saw him a handful of times before he died." Before Iona killed him. "But there's something between a parent and child-you want, or maybe need, to love a parent. I have the best adoptive parents anyone could hope for. Really good, caring people who did their best by me. I never knew Maeve. I knew Ciaran was evil, I knew he would betray me or use me or kill me if I didn't join him. Yet what I felt for him was very much like love, despite everything. Something deep inside me felt good that he was proud of me, proud of my powers, that he wanted me to join him when he didn't want his other children. I almost wanted his approval. It crushed me to have to bind him, to have his powers stripped. It was the worst thing, the worst decision I ever had to make. But he was my father. And he loved me, in his way." She paused. "Does that help?"