Part 4 (2/2)
I saw Bree's beautiful, coffee-colored eyes narrow a fraction and thought it lucky that Thalia didn't go to our school. She had made it no secret that she found Robbie attractive. Privately I thought a bit of compet.i.tion might be good for Bree.
Raven Meltzer clomped over in her motorcycle boots and sat down at the end of the table. She looked uncharacteristically sedate today, in a torn black sweats.h.i.+rt, men's suit trousers, and less than half an inch of makeup. She nodded at the rest of the table, then surveyed her bought lunch without enthusiasm.
I looked around at my coven, my friends, remembering Ciaran's words from last night: He had said that with my decision, I had sacrificed them. At the start of the school year I had really known only Bree and Robbie. Now all of them-Jenna, Raven, Ethan, Sharon, and Matt-felt like an extended family. Despite how different we were, despite what other groups we belonged to, we were a coven. We had made magick together. And now, because of me, they might all be in serious danger. I took in a couple of shuddering breaths and opened my carton of chocolate milk. Hunter and I would somehow fix this situation. I had to believe that.
After school I joined Hunter at Das Boot. We gave Mary K. a ride home and picked up his car, and then we both drove to his house. Once there, he called upstairs to his dad. Mr. Niall soon came down and greeted me with what seemed like a fraction more warmth than usual. I felt slightly encouraged as the three of us sat around the worn wooden table in the kitchen.
”Last night Ciaran asked you to join him,” Hunter said, jumping right in. I tried to ignore Mr. Niall's visible flinch.
”Yes,” I said. ”He's asked before. I've always said no. I said no again last night. But this felt more final. He said he was sorry to hear it-but that I could still save myself, my friends, and my family-if I made the right decision.”
”He said specifically your friends, your family?” Hunter asked.
”Yes.”
Hunter and Mr. Niall met eyes across the table. Mr. Niall stretched his hands out on the table and looked at them. Finally he said,”Yes, I think that sounds like a dark wave.”
My mouth dropped open-somehow, despite his implications, I hadn't let myself believe Ciaran could have meant that. ”So you really think Ciaran would send a dark wave here, to Widow's Vale? For me?”
”That's what it sounds like,” said Mr. Niall, and Hunter nodded slowly. ”Though it would likely be targeted to attack only the coven members and their families, and not the whole town.”
”I agree with Da,” said Hunter. ”From what you told me last night, it sounds like Ciaran thinks your power is just too strong not to be allied with his. And I would guess he also wants revenge since you won't join him. Not to mention the added bonus of taking a Seeker out at the same time.”
As much as I had tried to deny the real threat behind Ciaran's words, as soon as Hunter said ”dark wave,” I knew he was right. Still, it felt like a fresh, crus.h.i.+ng blow, and I took small, shallow breaths, trying to keep calm.
”I think he's been planning it for a while,” Mr. Niall went on. ”I've been feeling the effects this past week.There's a feeling of deadness, of decay in the air. An oppression. At first I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me. But now I'm certain my instincts are right-there's a dark wave coming.”
In a flash I remembered Mom's crocuses dying in a row beside the front walk. I thought of how the lawn hadn't begun to green up, though it was time. I thought of how awful I'd been feeling physically. ”What can we do? How can we stop it?” I asked, trying not to sound completely terrified. Inside me, my mind was screaming, There's no way to stop it, there's never been a way.
”I contacted the council,” Hunter answered me. ”They were no help at all, as usual. They're looking for Ciaran, and now that they know he's here, they'll surround Widow's Vale.”
”For me it means I'll devote all my time and energy to crafting a spell that could combat a dark wave,” said Hunter's father. ”I've been able to decipher a lot of the hidden writing in Rose's book. I've started to sketch out the basic form of the spell, its shape. I wish I had more time, but I'll work as fast as I can.”
The weight of this hung over my head like an iron safe. This was happening because of me. I had caused this to happen. Ciaran was my biological father-and because of that, everything I held dear would be destroyed. ”What if I left town?” I suggested wildly. ”If I left town, Ciaran would come after just me and leave everyone else alone.”
”No!” Hunter and his father cried at the same time.
Taken back by their vehemence, I started to explain, but Mr. Niall cut me off.
”No,” he said. ”That doesn't work. I know that all too well. It won't really solve anything. It wouldn't guarantee the town's safety, and you'd be as good as dead. No, we have to face this thing head-on.”
”What about the rest of Kithic?” I asked. ”Shouldn't they know? Could they help somehow? All of us together?”
Looking uncomfortable, Hunter said, ”I don't think we should tell Kithic.”
”What? Why not? They're in danger!”
Hunter stood and put the kettle to boil on the stove. When he turned back, his face looked pained. ”It's just . . . this is blood witch business. We're not supposed to involve nonwitches in our affairs. Not only that, but there's truly nothing they can do. They might have strong wills, but they have very little power. And if we tell them, they probably wouldn't believe us, anyway. But if they did, then everyone would panic, which wouldn't help anything.”
”So we just have to pretend we don't know everyone might die,” I said, holding my head in my hands, my elbows on the table.
”Yes,” Hunter said quietly, and once again I was reminded of the fact that he was a council Seeker and that he'd had to make hard decisions, tough calls, as part of his job. But I was new to it, and this hurt me. It was going to be literally painful not to tell my own family, or Bree, Robbie. . . . I swallowed hard.
”There's something else,” Mr. Niall said. ”I haven't mentioned this to you yet,” he told Hunter. ”With this type of spell, actually, as with most spells, the person who casts it will have to be a blood witch and will also have to be physically very close to where the dark wave would originate. My guess is that Ciaran would use the local power sink to help amplify the wave's power.”
I nodded slowly. ”That makes sense.” At the edge of town is an old Methodist cemetery where several magickal ”leys” cross. That made that area a power sink: any magick made there was stronger. Any inherent blood witch powers were also stronger there.
”The problem, of course,” Mr. Niall went on,”is that to be close enough to cast the spell, a witch is in effect sacrificing herself or himself because it will most likely cause death.”
”Even if the spell works and the wave is averted?” I asked.
Hunter's dad nodded. The sudden whistle of the kettle distracted us, and Hunter mechanically made three mugs of tea. I gazed numbly at the steam rising from mine, then flicked my fingers over it widders.h.i.+ns and thought, Cool the fire. I took a sip. It was perfect.
”Well, that's a problem,” Hunter said.
”No, it isn't,” said Mr. Niall.”I'll cast the spell.”
Hunter stared at him.”But you just said it would probably kill the caster!”
His father seemed calm: his mind had been made up for a while. ”Yes. There are only so many blood witches around Widow's Vale. I'm the logical choice-I'm crafting the spell, so I'll know it best-and I would once again be with my mirn beatha dn.”
Hunter had told me the loss of his mother, just a few months ago, had almost destroyed his father.
”I just got you back!” Hunter said, pus.h.i.+ng away from the table. ”You can't possibly do this! There has to be some other witch who would be a better choice.”
Mr. Niall smiled wryly. ”Like a witch with terminal cancer? All right, we can look for one.” He shook his head. ”Look, lad, it's got to be me.You know it as well as I do.”
”I'm stronger,” Hunter said, wearing the determined look that I knew so well. ”I should cast it. I'm sure I could survive. You could teach me the spell.”
Mr. Niall shook his head.
”Dammit, I won't let you!” Hunter's loud voice filled the small kitchen. If he'd yelled at me like that, I would have been appalled, but his father seemed unmoved.
”It's not your decision, lad,” he said. Calmly he picked up his mug of tea and drank.
”How long do we have?” I whispered, running my hands over the worn surface of the tabletop. ”Is it tomorrow, or next week, or . . .”
Mr. Niall put down his mug. ”It's impossible to say for certain.” He looked at Hunter. ”I would say, given the level of decay in the air and what I've read about the effects of an oncoming wave . . . perhaps a week. Perhaps a little less.”
”Oh, G.o.ddess!” I put my head down on the table and felt tears welling up behind my eyes. ”A week! You're saying we might have one week left on this planet, a week before our families all die? All because of me? All because of my father?”
Mr. Niall surveyed me with an odd, grave expression. ”I'm afraid so, la.s.s.” He stood. ”I'm going back to work.” Without a good-bye he left the room, and I heard him go upstairs.
”I just got him back,” Hunter said, sounding near tears. I looked up from the table and realized, all at once, that no matter what happened to my family, Hunter was certainly going to lose his father. I stood up and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. So many times he had comforted me, and now I was glad to have the chance to give some back to him.
”I know,” I said softly.
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