Full Circle

  We all held hands and bowed our heads. It was a tiny bit like a weekly circle, and I felt comfortable and relaxed. My mind was still whirling with the possibility that my parents might actually consider letting me go to Scotland.

  Dad began, "Oh, heavenly father, we your children who are bowed before thee thank thee humbly for the gift of this our food tonight. Your mercy is never ending, your constancy eternal. ..."

  As Dad said the familiar words, a feeling of peace and happiness came over me. I was surrounded by my family, Scotland wasn't out of the question, and I felt safe and as far away from Cal Blaire as I could possibly be.

  Dad finished, and we all said, "Amen." And my heart was full of gratitude.

  Right after dinner I talked to Bree, who agreed to say that I was sleeping over at her house. She wanted to help with my nightmares, and since my parents knew that Bree and I wouldn't get wild or anything, it was okay with them.

  Around eight I said good night to Aunt Eileen, Paula, and the rest of my family, packed a bag, and drove to Red Kill. Alyce's apartment over Practical Magick was like Alyce herself: comforting and appealing. She opened the door at once as soon as she sensed me on the stairs. "Come in," she said. "Hunter isn't here, and Bethany stepped out for a minute. But come in and sit down."

  I sank into her chintz sofa, and Whistle, one of her cats, jumped up on my lap, smelling Dagda. By unspoken agreement we talked about light things-the weather, our gardens-I had dug mine just recently and was starting to fill it in with herbs and flowers. It wasn't long before we felt Bethany on the stairs, and then the three of us sat and waited almost half an hour for Hunter. In the meantime I told Alyce and Bethany about my offer to go to Dubhlan Cuan. They were really pleased for me and seemed impressed. They both really hoped I could go and offered to talk to my parents if I'd like.

  Hunter finally showed up, looking stressed and a little preoccupied. He came over and gave me a quick kiss, then noticed my questioning expression. "I'll tell you about it later," he whispered, and brushed his fingers along my cheek. Then the four of us settled down with cups of herb tea-no caffeine-to go over the strategy.

  "Will this thing be able to find me here?" I asked, thinking that if it couldn't, I could just move in.

  Bethany nodded. "We believe so. It's your consciousness that it traces, or at least that's the theory. Tonight we're going to work on the assumption that as it's getting more insistent, it will simply need to take on a somewhat less amorphous form. But even if it's barely present, we're prepared to handle it."

  I thought of Cal as he'd been when I'd met him, glowing and charismatic, a teenage Wiccan god. How had it all come to this?

  Alyce showed us the chunk of brown jasper she had gotten. It was the size of a softball, and though it was shot through with interior flaws and occlusions, it was still beautiful and impre^ive.

  "You'll be sleeping in my bed," Alyce said. "The three of us will be magickally cloaked. Your role will be to go to sleep and be as powerful as you can. Did you bring your mother's tool!;?"

  I nodded and kicked my backpack gently.

  "You'll surround yourself with protection spells that will limit anyone who attempts to bind your powers. Then you'll go to sleep and wait for Cal to come to you. Once he does, once he make5 a connection with you, you will need to, in your dream, actually take hold of him. Hold him and don't let go. Our thb0ry is that what happens in your dream will be mirrored in real life."

  "So you'll just wait while this thing approaches me while I'm asleep?" My voice sounded tight with tension.

  "We'll absolutely be on the alert and able to get to you in a moment," Bethany assured me. "There will be three of us, joining our bowers. Once you have a hold on the thing, we'll trap it with the binding spell we created. Then we'll further encase it in the brown jasper. And I think that should be the end of it."

  "And you're quite sure Morgan won't be hurt?" Hunter asked.

  "We'll be right here," Alyce said. "She certainly couldn't go anywhere."

  "Does this sound all right with you?" Hunter asked me. "If you're afraid, we don't have to do this. We'll think of something else." He rubbed his hand across his eyes, and I noticed the dark circles there. "No, it sounds okay," I said. "It's frightening, but not as bad as the idea of having more dreams like this. I just have to stop them."

  "Okay," said Alyce, standing up briskly and gathering our cups. "Sounds like we've got a plan, then."

  I went into Alyce's bathroom and put on my mother's magickal robe. It was a deep green silk, embroidered with symbols, runes, and letters. As usual, it felt comfortable and light against my skin. When I wore it, I was never too hot or too cold-it was always perfect.

  I went into Alyce's bedroom, which I'd never seen before. Once again it seemed to embody its occupant. The bed looked overstuffed and comfortable, the colors were shades of lavender and green, and there were fresh flowers, a crocheted runner across the dresser, and the scent of soothing rosemary and chamomile. Alyce, Bethany, and Hunter were performing cloaking spells on themselves.

  At the head of the bed I placed one of Belwicket's silver cups, with water in it. I also placed my birth mother's wand there. Around the other three sides I placed the other three cups, to represent earth, fire, and air. I got into bed, sinking into the comforting softness, the fresh, clean-smelling linens. I had the Belwicket athame, the one engraved with generations of initials of Riordan witches. Someday, I would have my own initials engraved on it, too.

  I pulled up the covers and tucked the athame at my side. Surrounded by the powerful tools that had helped women in my family work magick for hundreds of years, I felt fortified and more confident. I felt connected to the long line of witches who were my ancestors and a special connection to Maeve, the woman who had given me up for adoption rather than allow me to be killed by Ciaran MacEwan.

  Hunter came over and tucked me in. "Got your spells ready?" he asked. I nodded. "Right, then-sweet dreams. When you see me next, all this will be over." He leaned over and kissed me, then went back to Alyce and Bethany, who were opening the window and removing its screen.

  Alyce came over, smiled, and patted my shoulder. "This will all be okay," she said.

  "All ready?" Bethany asked. I nodded. "Good luck, then."

  Alyce turned off the light. I looked at the luminous hands on my watch-it was ten-thirty. I often stayed up later than that, but at the moment I felt completely wiped. Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath, trying to relax and concentrate. Just relax, I told myself. Relax. Everything is all right. You're safe.

  "Of course you're safe," Cal says, sitting on the edge of the bed. I jump-I hadn't sensed him coming.

  "Why are you doing this?" I ask. "What do you want?"

  He leans over. "I want you, Morgan," he says. "I always did. You never would join with me the way I wanted. But now you will." He smiles and strokes my hair, and I can't help flinching. He doesn't seem to notice. "Tonight you'll be mine, all mine. You didn't take any of those nasty potions that kept us apart" He frowns at that I try to think of what I'm supposed to do now. I can't remember.

  Then Cal cheers up. "But tonight is different," he says, smiling again. "Tonight I'm here, and he's not. Tonight you and I will join completely."

  "I don't want to." My voice comes out sounding faint, and I say it again, more strongly."! don't want you. I want you to leave me alone." Cal tips back his head and laughs, exposing the smooth brown skin of his neck. "Of course you don't really want to be alone," he says, sounding indulgent in a way that pisses me off. "Not when you can be with me. Didn't you have too many years of being alone? You did. But now you'll never be alone again."

  "What are you talking about?"

  He takes my hand, and it really feels like a person holding it His skin is smooth and warm, and I feel the brush of the leather friendship bracelet he used to wear. When he was alive. I shiver, but again he doesn't seem to notice.

  "You've been playing hard to get," he says. "I don't blame you. Yo
u're an exceptional witch-very strong. You're simply too strong not to be joined with me." His smile lights his face, and I'm struck by his physical beauty. "You know what they say-if you're not with us, you're against us."

  "Who's us?" I ask. I know I'm supposed to do something, something guided or interactive-but what? Desperately I try to remember-I'm supposed to do something, for some reason-

  Cal shrugs casually. "With me. Tonight you're going to join with me forever."

  "No."

  He laughs easily. "You don't really have a choice, Morgan. Not anymore. Not tonight."

  "I always have a choice." My voice comes out stronger than I intended, and it makes his golden eyes flick over at me.

  "Not really. Not against me." He stands up and holds out his hand. "Now, come on. Let's get going. I've waited too long for this. You won't get away from me tonight" He remembers to smile at the last bit, but it's a horrible, almost vicious expression, and I recoil.

  "No," I say, pulling farther back into the bed. What should I do? What should I do? Isn't something supposed to happen now? Is someone supposed to help me? Where are they?

  Cal reaches forward and grips my wrist in a tight, almost painful grasp. My eyes narrow a bit-I'm not a pushover. Not anymore. I'm no longer innocent Morgan, never had a boyfriend, so flattered that a demigod like Cal Blaire would want me. He thinks I'm weak, is counting on it But I'm not weak. I'm very strong, and I know it. I'm so strong, I can protect myself in this situation. Strong enough to fight Cal all by myself. I can win. I can beat him.

  "Why are you doing this? I want you to leave me alone," I say firmly. I tug on my hand, but he doesn't release it "I don't want to be with you. I'm not going to join with you. You need to leave and never come back."

  He frowns. "Morgan. Stop it This is nonsense. Now, come on." He gives a hard yank on my hand and almost pulls me out of the bed. My shoulder feels a sharp pang, as if my arm is straining against its socket. Determinedly I pull it back.

  I realize now that we're in the meadow again. I don't remember where we were just seconds ago. But we're in the meadow, and there's Cal's bed at the edge of it The sun is warm on my hair, the bees' droning noise is mesmerizing-it's the most perfect, peaceful place in the world. Except Cal's in it.

  Time to act. I reach forward and grab Cal's other hand, pulling it toward me. He smiles-playful Morgan-but I keep a death grip on it and won't let go. He frowns in puzzlement and tries to pull his own hand back. "Let go," he says.

  I send every bit of power I have into the hold I have on his hand. "No," I say calmly. "I won't let go."

  He suddenly gives a hard yank, and I hold on tighter, clenching my teeth."You can't hurt me anymore,"! grind out-

  Then my eyes opened to darkness lit only by a glow of blue witchfire. I lurched up in bed and stifled a horrified scream-in my hand I was holding one leg of a dark-feath- ered hawk! The same hawk I had seen in all my dreams- the one with the cold, golden eyes. My face froze in shock as I took in the scene-the hawk's huge, powerful wings beating the air, my fist gripped around its leg tight enough to break its bone. The hawk screamed unbearably loudly, right in my face, and I squeezed my eyes shut, the horrible sound raking my eardrums.

  Its beak lunged toward my face, and I ducked at the last second to avoid having my cheek ripped open. Around me I heard a commotion-moving and shouting, and then a light flashed on. Other hands were grabbing at me-I was on my knees on the bed, hanging on to the hawk's leg, avoiding its beak. Then I recognized Alyce's voice, and Hunter's and Bethany's, and it was enough to pull me back into reality. Hunter managed to grab a beating wing. Alyce grabbed the other one, holding it hard, outstretched against her body. A sudden slash made me cry out, and I saw that the hawk had managed to slice into my arm with its other taloned claw.

  I let out a gasp, and then Hunter grabbed the other leg, and between the four of us we held the hawk down. It struggled fiercely, still lunging with its beak, and then Alyce reached out one hand and grabbed its neck. Her face was contorted with fierce, ruthless determination-I had never seen her look like this before.

  I still held on to one leg and glanced down at the gashes on my arm, dripping blood. I stared at the hawk, at its golden eyes-they were like Cal's eyes. I looked up at Alyce to ask what should we do now, but I saw a look of horror come over her face. My head snapped back to the hawk, and then my jaw dropped in terror as the hawk's mouth opened and a wisp of thick, oily smoke emerged. In a second I remembered the last time I had seen something like that-it had been back when Selene had died, in her library. It was here now, and it was incredibly foul, this close. Just being within proximity of it made me feel like my life force was draining away, as if it was the coldness of death itself. My heart sank and my mouth went dry, and then, as the last of the smoke roiled out of the bird's mouth, it went limp and sank lifeless in our hands. It was dead.

  "Quick!" Bethany shouted, dropping the bird's body on the bed and throwing herself toward the window. She slammed it down and locked it, and Alyce sprang for the door and locked that, too. I was still trying to get my bearings, but the other three witches were circling the anam, grim looks of resolve on their faces.

  Then, as we watched, the nebulous smoke slowly began to achieve more form. It coiled upon itself, becoming more three-dimensional. My eyes felt like they were burning as a grisly, acid-eaten face gradually emerged from the oily fog.

  It was Selene.

  My mind went blank with terror. Selene! My first thought was that against Cal, we had good odds of beating him. Against Selene, who besides Ciaran was the strongest, most evil witch I'd ever come across-our odds were much worse.

  Selene! How was it possible? Her anam must have been within the smoke that drifted from her mouth when she died. She must have found some other host-this hawk, or another one, or something else. Then she had decided to take revenge on me. It hadn't been Cal at all. It had never been Cal.

  I felt my heart sink at this realization. The real Cal was dead-he had been dead all this time. Selene had used his image in my dreams to make me follow him. She must have known that I still had conflicting feelings about her son: anger, fear, maybe even a little fondness. But most of all, guilt. He had sacrificed his life for me. And as much as I knew he was a twisted person who had done terrible things, a small part of me still regretted that Because he might have truly loved me, in his way. And because he never really had a chance. Not with a mother like Selene.

  Her death's-head grin was becoming more apparent-in life, Selene had been as beautiful as Cal, in the same sleek, golden, feline way. She was no longer beautiful. It was as if every bit of evil she had in her had eaten away at her human form, leaving only the grimacing mockery of a challenge.

  Without thinking I threw out my hand, and a jagged, neon blue bolt of energy snapped from my fingers and sliced right through the smoky form. Her slash of a mouth widened in horrible amusement.

  I was stiff and stupid with fear. We hadn't prepared for this. I felt pearls of cold sweat popping fully formed on my forehead, felt the ache of adrenaline tightening my muscles, the dull pain of my stomach, tight with terror. Selene.

  Alyce made an incoherent sound-she and the others had been muttering spells nonstop since the hawk had died-but now I looked down and saw that dark tendrils were spinning off from lower down, and they were beginning to curl around the legs of Hunter, Alyce, and Bethany. They each quickly tried to jump away but already seemed held. They were throwing witchfire at it, spitting spells at it, and nothing they were doing was having any effect. These three witches were all strong, quick, and knew well how to protect themselves-but not even Hunter seemed to be able to stall her attack.

  The smoky tendrils were weaving themselves higher, coiling insidiously around their bodies.

  "Why are you doing this?" I shouted. I was going to sit here and watch my friends-and my muirn beatha dan-die, and then I was going to die myself if I didn't figure something out. A horrible, risky idea was starting to take form in my mi
nd. I rejected it, but it kept coming back, and now I saw it as perhaps my only hope. It would be dangerous, and I didn't know if I could pull it off. I didn't even want to try.

  "If it's me you want, take me, and leave them alone!" I cried.

  The horrible Selene face laughed, and I realized that she wanted to see them die, that she would enjoy it. I found my mother's athame in my hand, glowing with a white heat, and without a plan I leaped forward and plunged the blade into the middle of the smoke. To my surprise, Selene actually seemed to feel it-the smoke recoiled and the face gasped. Then her expression twisted with anger, and a dreadful, perforated voice emanated from it. "You can't stop me, Morgan," it said, every word feeling like a steel nail scraped down a blackboard. "You're not strong enough. I'll take my revenge. My kind have been waiting hundreds of years to wipe out your kind, and I'm not going to let my own death stop me. You're the last of Belwicket, the last of the Riordans. Once you're dead, true Woodbanes can continue their work. I'm willing to martyr myself to that cause. Soon we'll be more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

  Twining vines of smoke slid toward me, running up the bedspread like fire. I edged back against the wall, then looked up to see that Bethany's neck was entwined-she was choking and gagging, and her face was tinged with blue. Bethany was going to die. Alyce and Hunter had turned their energies to saving her, but Selene's march toward death seemed unstoppable.

  Unless.

  Fully formed, my mother's power chant, the power chant of Belwicket, came to me, as it had on so many other occasions. The ancient, beautiful, and sometimes harsh words spilled from my mouth as I kept my eyes locked on Selene's form. "An di allaigh an di aigh an di allaigh an di ne ullah. ..." I kept the words flowing like lifesaving water as my hand crept across the bed to the body of the dead hawk. My half brother Killian had caught a hawk once by calling its true name. If you know the true name of something, you have ultimate control over it. I knew Ciaran's true name, but no one knew mine, including me. My fingers brushed the soft feathers, felt the absence of a life force, and I included the hawk's true name in my chant.