Sweep: Eclipse Part 11

I nodded, and she brought the cordless phone in and gave it to me. "h.e.l.lo, my love," he said, and my heart hurt.

"How are you doing?"

"Not great. How are you?"

"b.l.o.o.d.y awful. Did you get any sleep today?"

"I slept, but it didn't help."

There were a few moments of silence, and I knew what was coming. "Morgan-I wish you had told me you knew his true name. I thought we trusted each other."

Unexpectedly I felt a little spark of irritation. "If you're p.i.s.sed, say you're p.i.s.sed. Don't try to make me feel guilty about my decisions." "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty," he said more strongly. "I just thought we had total trust and honesty between us."

"The way I trusted you when you were in Canada?"

Long silence."I guess we have a ways to go."

"I guess we do." I felt upset at what that implied, for both of us.

"Well, I want to work to get there," he said, surprising me. "I want us to grow closer, to earn each other's trust, to be able to count on each other more than we count on other people. I do want us to have total trust and honesty between us.That's how I want us to be."

You are perfection, I thought, calming right down. "I'd like that, too."

For a moment I just basked in the glow of having Hunter. "It was just-he's my father. I was probably the only person in the whole world who knew his true name, except him. And he knew I had it. I felt I had to keep it close to myself, in case I ever needed it, for me or for you. Not for the council."

"He knew that you had his true name?"

"He must have. I used it the night we . . . shape-s.h.i.+fted, to stop him. That's why he disappeared, when what he really wanted to do was kill you or me or both."

"Yet he met you at the power sink."

"I guess he trusted me or was sure he was stronger than me." I gave a brittle laugh. "He was stronger than me. Many times stronger than me. But he shouldn't have trusted me." Hot tears slipped from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

"Morgan, you know you did the right thing-not only for you, me, and the others he would have hurt, but also for Ciaran. For every evil he did, three times that was coming back to him. You've prevented him from making that any worse."

"That's one way of looking at it," I said. "I don't know. Nothing is ever black or white. Decisions are never crystal clear."

"No. What you did last night was not one hundred percent good, but certainly not one hundred percent bad. But on the whole it was much more good than bad. On the whole, you honored the G.o.ddess much more than you dishonored her. And that's sometimes as much as we can hope for."

"I wish I could see you," I said, feeling his soothing words taking away some of my jagged edges. "But I'm a wreck, and I'm sure Mom wouldn't let me out after I've been in bed all day."

"You just rest up," Hunter said. "We can get together tomorrow. I'd like to get away from here, if possible-my da's driving me mad. He's going mental because I don't want to have anything to do with the council anymore."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I don't trust them anymore. I can't put my faith in them. I can't do as they ask simply because they ask. I can't turn to them for protection. Not only are they no use to me, they've actually been dangerous for me. And for you. And for Da, though he doesn't see it that way."

"Can you quit being a Seeker? Is that allowed?"

Hunter gave a short laugh. "It doesn't happen frequently, that's certain. I haven't talked to anyone officially about it yet-Da's still trying to talk me out of it. But in my heart I know this is what I want to do."

was stunned. Hunter's dissatisfaction with the council had been building for a while, but it had never occurred to me that he would quit being a Seeker. It was what he was; it was a huge part of what defined him.

"Whoa," I said."If you're not a Seeker, what will you do?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I've never done anything else, and no one besides the council needs a Seeker. I'll have to think about it. But how do you feel about it, my quitting?"

"I think you should do whatever you feel like you need to do," I said. "You could do anything you want. I'll help you do anything you want."

"Oh, Morgan, that means so much to me," he said, sounding relieved. "You have no idea. If you'll support me, I'll take on anyone." He paused. "They're not going to want me to quit," he explained.

"I know. Let's talk about it tomorrow, in person," I said. "This could be good. This could be very exciting. I want to look toward the future instead of dreading everything in the present."

"I'm with you there," Hunter said. "Now I guess I'll go try to avoid Da. G.o.ddess, fathers can be a pain in the a.r.s.e."

"Yes, they can," I said with dry irony.

"See you tomorrow, my love."

"Tomorrow."

"Morgan, maybe you would feel better if you ate an actual breakfast," said Mary K., sitting across from me at the kitchen table.

I looked up, bleary-eyed. It was starting to seem that maybe I really did have the flu. I still felt awful, with bone-deep aches, a pounding headache, and lingering nausea. I had staggered down to the kitchen, grabbed a regular c.o.ke for its medicinal properties, and now felt a tiny bit better.

"It's settling my stomach."

"There's some oatmeal left. It's got raisins in it." Mary K. took a healthy bite of her banana and gave me a perky, bright-eyed look. That was how she was. She wasn't even trying to be this way. This morning, even though she hadn't taken a shower yet, she looked fresh and clean, with perfect skin and s.h.i.+ny hair. I hadn't taken a shower, either, and I could scare small children.

"No, thank you.Where are Mom and Dad?"

"Dad's downstairs, rebuilding his motherboard. Mom had to show some houses. And I am going to Jaycee's, as soon as you give me a ride." She gave me a simpering smile and batted her eyelashes at me, and I couldn't help laughing.

"Okay. Let me get a grip."

An hour later I dropped her at Jaycee's house, then swung around and headed for Hunter's. The shower had helped, and then I had taken three Tylenol. Now I'd had a second c.o.ke and a piece of toast here in the car, and I hoped that something I'd done would start to help soon.

It was better, though, walking up to Hunter's front door without feeling like I had to be looking over my shoulder. I had no idea whether Amyranth would take up Ciaran's cause, but I had the feeling that this had been a purely personal thing. I might not matter to them at all.

The front door opened."Hi," said Hunter.

I blinked when I saw him. "Do you still feel bad? You look awful."

He rubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw. Unlike the hair on his head, which was the color of sunlight, his beard was dark, and so was his chest hair. Which I was going to stop thinking about immediately.

He shrugged and I went past him, automatically heading for the fireplace in the living room. I dropped my coat and sank onto the couch, stretching my feet toward the flames. The house smelled pleasantly smoky, clean. Fire has great purifying qualities.

"I think I feel better than I did yesterday," he said, sitting next to me so our legs touched. "Maybe it just takes a while. I've never been around a dark wave before, so I don't know."

I leaned my head against his shoulder and s.h.i.+vered at the warmth I found there. "Maybe you haven't drunk enough tea," I said with a straight face.

"Quite the wit, aren't you?" He put his arms around me and we snuggled, taking comfort from being close.

"Where's your dad?" Please be out of the house. Please be gone all day.

"Getting groceries. There's nothing to eat because we've been kind of busy the last few days."

I pushed against Hunter's shoulder so he would fall sideways. "Perfect."

"Good idea," he said, sliding down and pulling me with him. Then we were lying on the couch, face-to-face, pressed together, and my entire back was toasting nicely from the fire.

Simultaneously we both made happy sounds, then laughed at ourselves. I didn't feel like making out, sadly enough, and neither did he, and instead we just held each other close, snuggling hard, feeling some of our aches disappear with the heat from each other's body. G.o.ddess, if I could just lie like this forever. Hunter's hand stroked my back absently; our eyes were closed, and I had my arms around his waist, not even caring that one was getting smushed.

"Thursday was so awful," I murmured against his chest. "I don't think I'll ever get over it. No matter how much good I was doing, I still know I betrayed my father.And despite how bad he was, there was something in him that I felt I knew, something good, from long ago. That was the part of him I liked."

"I understand." Hunter's warm breath stirred my hair. "The only thing that will make you feel better is time. Give yourself time. I promise there will be a day when it doesn't hurt so much."

I felt tears behind my eyelids but didn't let them out. I was tired of crying, of being in pain. I wanted to lie here and feel safe and loved and warm.

"Mmm," I hummed, moving closer to him. "This feels so great. I needed this."

It wasn't long until we felt Hunter's father come home, and we sat up as if we had been discussing the weather the whole time. I'm sure Mr. Niall was fooled.

Hunter helped him carry the groceries into the kitchen. When I saw Mr. Niall's face, I thought he looked even older and grayer than usual, which was saying something. However, when he saw me, he actually nodded and said, "Hullo, Morgan. Hope you're feeling better." So he had softened up to me. Maybe I should write an article for a teen magazine about how to win over your boyfriend's parents. But I guess most girls wouldn't have my same setup.

"What's in here, Da?" Hunter said, his arms full. "This weighs a ton."

"I thought you were supposed to be so strong," said Mr. Niall snidely, and my eyebrows went up.

"I am strong; I just don't know why they sell lead weights at the grocery store, that's all."

Their bickering continued as they went into the kitchen, and it was still going on when they came out. I frowned, thinking. Then I glanced at the potted winter cactus by the window. It had been blooming last week. Now it was dead. My heart sank, and a cold feeling came over me. Oh, no. Oh, no. I stood up and went over to them, looking closely at their faces.

"What, Morgan?" Hunter asked.

"I-we all feel horrible.You guys are arguing.That plant is dead." I was too upset to make sense, but it took them only a moment to get it.

"Oh, G.o.ddess," Hunter breathed.

"Of course." Mr. Niall shook his head. "I knew something was wrong-I just couldn't see what. But you're right. I know you are."

Hunter muttered a word that I was never allowed to use. "Too right," he said. "The dark wave is still coming. Either Ciaran cast it before he came to see you, or Amyranth is continuing his work without him."

"Call Alisa," said Mr. Niall grimly.

14.

Alisa.

*"I see one day when all witches everywhere are united in one common doctrine, one common cause. I see Woodbanes everywhere safe from prejudice. I see our detractors, our persecutors, our enemies, a threat no longer. I see one great clan, not seven, with all the members of that clan Woodbane brothers and sisters. This is my vision, the one I am working toward."

-X, an Amyranth leader, London, 2002*

It seemed that every time I looked out a window, it was darker outside, more ominous. Mr. Niall had turned on the radio in the kitchen, and every once in a while we heard faint weather reports about a bad early-spring storm coming, how unusual it was. They joked about how it was March, still roaring in like a lion, ha-ha. It had all seemed so unreal. How could the world be going on as usual when I knew that mine might end at any minute?

Concentrate, I told myself. Concentrate. Okay, third form: spell specifics.

This was difficult-not as hard as the second part, but harder than the first or fourth. Facing east, I began to step in the carefully designed pattern that would help define and clarify this spell. Next to me, as if we were in pairs skating, Mr. Niall started the same motions.

"Words," Hunter muttered. He and Morgan were sitting on the floor, their backs against the wall. It had been almost six hours ago that Hunter had called me and told me the dark wave was still coming. Since then I had been struggling to understand: What? Coming? Now? It was hard to get my head around the dark wave again, and there almost wasn't time, with all the practice we were doing. It was like a strange, nightmare day, like I would wake up any minute safe in my bed. But deep in my witch bones I knew that wouldn't happen.

Morgan had her head on her knees, as if she were too miserable to move. Hunter looked like he'd been run over by a truck. Mr. Niall had a washcloth, and he kept patting his forehead with it. He looked gray and clammy and had to sit down every few minutes.

"Oh, right," I said. I rubbed my aching temples with my hands and wished I had something to drink. "Nogac haill, bets carrein, hest farrill, mai nal nithrac, boc maigeer." I said the ancient words, whose meanings I knew only very sketchily, as I stepped again in the pattern I'd been taught. My hands drew patterns of sigils and runes in the air as I described exactly what we needed this spell to do, how and when and why.The third part usually took about seventeen minutes if I did it properly.

"No-arms up," Mr. Niall croaked.

His interruption broke my concentration; my foot faltered, and all at once I fell out of sync, with no idea of where I was supposed to be in the spell. I stared at my arms, which were not up, and then a wave of tiredness and nausea swept over me.

"You're doing great, Alisa," said Hunter as I stood there dejectedly, rubbing my forehead. His voice sounded stiff and leaden, as if even talking made him feel worse. "It's just an incredibly difficult spell. It would take me a solid month to learn it."

"Yeah, but you would understand what the h.e.l.l you were doing and saying and why. I'm just memorizing it like a parrot."

"A talented parrot," Morgan said, trying to smile.

Mr. Niall slowly lowered himself to the wooden floor and curled up there with a moan. He looked like someone had taken all his stuffing out and returned the pelt. Of the four of us, he seemed the worst off. I glanced at Hunter and met his eyes: We both knew there was no way Daniel could even pretend to cast this spell himself. I'd been here three hours, and in that short time I'd watched as the three full blood witches visibly deteriorated. Even I was starting to feel pretty bad-my headache made it hard to concentrate, and my knees felt shaky.

"I'll go make tea," said Morgan, and she carefully uncurled herself and went into the kitchen.

Hunter got up to stand next to me."It's going to be up to you," he said, so his father couldn't hear, and I nodded, wis.h.i.+ng I were in Florida and this were all their problem.

"I know," I whispered back. "But I'm not ready, Hunter-you know it. What if when the time comes, I can't do it? I mean, I'm trying hard, but-" My voice wobbled and broke, and I wiped a hand across my stinging eyes. I refused to cry and look like a baby in front of him.

Morgan came back with a tray of mugs. She knelt on the floor by Mr. Niall, slos.h.i.+ng the tea a bit. "Here," she told him. "Drink this."

He pushed himself up with effort and stretched a bony hand toward the mug."Ta, la.s.s."

Hunter and I sat on the floor. I was incredibly thirsty and sucked down some of the hot, sweet tea. Morgan had put extra sugar and lemon in it, and it tasted great.

"The wave is coming," Hunter said baldly, and I saw Morgan flinch. "Alisa has done an amazing job of learning the spell as much as she can, but she's not quite ready. No one could be."

"I'll do it," said Mr. Niall.