Cate Tiernan: Black Magick

But I loved my parents, Sean and Mary Grace Rowlands, and my sister, Mary K., who was their biological daughter. And they loved me. And they were trying to come to terms with my Wiccan heritage, my legacy. As was I.

"Now, since today is your birthday, you can do what you want, more or less," Mom said, absently tickling Dagda's bat-like gray ears. "Do you want to have a big breakfast and we'll go to a later mass? Or we can go to church now and then do something special for lunch?"

I don't want to go to church at all, I thought. Lately my relationship with church had seemed like a battle of wills as I struggled to integrate Wicca into my life. I also couldn't face the idea of sitting though a Catholic mass and then having lunch with my family after what had happened the night before. "Um, is it all right if I sleep in today?" I asked. "I am feeling a little under the weather, actually. You guys do church and lunch without me."

Mom's lips thinned, but after a moment she nodded. "All right," she said. "If that's what you want." She stood up. "Do you want us to bring you back something for lunch?"

The idea of food repulsed me. "Oh, no thanks," I said, trying to sound casual. "I'll just find something in the fridge. Thanks, anyway, though."

"Okay," Mom said, touching my forehead again. "Tonight Eileen and Paula are coming over, and we'll do dinner and cake and presents. Sound good?"

"Great," I said, and Mom closed the door behind her. I sank back on my pillow. I felt as if I had a split personality. On the one hand, I was Morgan Rowlands, good daughter, honor roll student, math whiz, observant Catholic. On the other hand, I was a witch, by heritage and inclination.

I stretched, feeling the ache in my muscles. The events of the night before hovered over my head like a storm cloud. What had I done? How had I come to this? If only I knew for sure whether or not Hunter was dead….

I waited until I heard the front door close behind my family. Then I got up and began pulling on my clothes. I knew what I had to do next.

I drove my car to the back road that ran behind Cal's house and parked. Then I crunched across the snow to the cliff's rocky edge. Carefully I stretched out on my stomach and peered over. If I saw Hunter's body, I would have to climb down there, I warned myself. If he was alive, I would go for help. If he was dead… I wasn't sure what I would do.

Later I would go up to Cal's house and see how he was, but first I needed to do this, to look for Hunter. Had Sky gotten my message? Had 911 responded?

The ground around this area was churned and muddy, evidence of the horrific battle Hunter and Cal had fought. It was awful to think about it, to remember how helpless I had been under Cal's binding spell. Why had he done that to me?

I leaned over farther to try to see beneath a rocky ledge. The icy Hudson swept beneath me, clean and deadly. Sharp rocks jutted up from the riverbed. If Hunter had hit them, if he'd been in the water any length of time, he was surely dead. The thought made my stomach clench up again. In my mind I pictured Hunter falling in slow motion over the edge, his neck streaming blood, an expression of surprise on his face….

"Looking for something?"

I turned quickly, already scrambling to my feet as I recognized the English-accented voice. Sky Eventide. She stood fifteen feet away, hands in her pockets. Her pale face, whitish blond hair, and black eyes seemed etched against the painful blue of the sky. "What are you doing here?" I said.

"I was about to ask the same thing," she said, stepping toward me. She was taller than me and as thin. Her black leather jacket didn't look warm enough for the cold.

I said nothing, and she went on, a razor's edge in her voice. "Hunter didn't come home last night. I felt his presence here. But now I don't feel it at all."

She hasn't found Hunter. Hunter's dead. Oh, Goddess, I thought.

"What happened here?" she went on, her face like stone in the cold, bright sun. "The ground looks like it was plowed. There's blood everywhere." She stepped closer to me, fierce and cold, like a Viking. "Tell me what you know about it."

"I don't know anything," I said, too loudly. Hunter's dead.

"You're lying. You're a lying Woodbane, just like Cal and Selene," Sky said bitterly, spitting out the words as if she were saying, You're filth, you're garbage.

The world shifted around me, became slightly unreal. There was snow beneath my feet, water below the cliff, trees behind Sky, but it was like a stage set.

"Cal and Selene aren't Woodbane," I said. My mouth was dry.

Sky tossed her head. "Of course they are," she said. "And you're just like them. You'll stop at nothing to keep your power."

"That's not true," I snapped.

"Last night Hunter was on his way to Cal's place, on council business. He was going to confront Cal. I think you were there, too, since you're Cal's little lapdog. Now tell me what happened." Her voice rang out like steel, actually hurting my ears, and I felt the strength of her personality pressing on me. I wanted to spill out everything I knew. All of a sudden I realized she was putting a spell on me. A flash of rage seared through me. How dare she?

I straightened up and deliberately walled off my mind.

Sky's eyes flickered. "You don't know what you're doing," she said, her words chipping away at me. "That makes you dangerous. I'll be watching you. And so will the council."

She whirled and disappeared into the woods, her short, sunlight-colored hair riffling in the breeze.

The woods were silent after she left. No birds chirped, no leaves stirred, the wind itself died. After several minutes I went back to my car and drove it up to Cal's house. Hunter's car was no longer there. I climbed the stone steps and rang the doorbell, feeling a fresh wash of fear as I wondered what I might find, what might have happened to Cal since I left.

Selene opened the door. She was wearing an apron, and the faint scent of herbs clung to her. There was a wealth of warmth and concern in her golden eyes as she reached out and hugged me to her. She had never hugged me before, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the lovely feeling of comfort and relief she offered.

Then Selene withdrew and looked deeply into my face. "I heard about last night. Morgan, you saved my son's life," she said, her voice low and melodious. "Thank you." She looped her arm through mine and drew me inside, shutting out the rest of the world. We walked down the hallway to the large, sunny kitchen at the back of the house.

"How is Cal?" I managed.

"He's better," she said. "Thanks to you. I came home and found him in the parlor, and he managed to tell me most of what happened. I've been doing some healing work with him."

"I didn't know what to do," I said helplessly. "He fell asleep, and I had to get home. I have his car at my house," I added inanely.

Selene nodded. "We'll come get it later," she said, and I dug in my pocket and gave her the keys. She took them and pushed open the kitchen door.

I sniffed the air. "What's that?" I asked.

Now I noticed that the kitchen was ablaze with light, sound, color, scent. I paused in the doorway, trying to separate out the different stimuli. Selene walked over to the stove to stir something, and I realized she had a small, three-legged cast-iron cauldron bubbling on the burner of her range. The odd thing was how normal it looked somehow.

She caught my glance and said, "Usually I do all this outside. But this autumn has been so awful, weatherwise." She stirred slowly with a long wooden spoon, then leaned over and inhaled, the steam making her face flush slightly.

"What are you making?" I asked, moving closer.

"This is a vision potion," she explained. "When ingested by a knowledgeable witch, it aids with scrying and divination."