Cal made a face. "I don't want to talk about him," he said. "Well, he came to see me today." "What?" Shock flared in Cal's golden eyes. I saw something else there, too. Concern, maybe. Concern for me.
"What's the International Council of Witches?" I pressed on. Cal drew away from me, then sighed in resignation. He sat back against the couch and nodded. "You'd better just tell me everything," he said. "Hunter came to my house and said I was Woodbane," I said. The words flowed from my mouth as if a dam had been broken. "He said you were Woodbane and that he was your brother. He said I was stumbling into danger. He said he was on the International Council of Witches." "I can't believe this." Cal groaned. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure he leaves you alone from now on." He paused, as if collecting his thoughts. "Anyway, the International Council of Witches is just what it sounds like. Witches from all over the world getting together. It's kind of a governing body, though what they govern isn't really clear. They're kind of like village elders, but the village consists of all witches everywhere. I think there's something like sixty-seven countries represented." "What do they do?"
"In the old days they often settled disputes about land, dan wars, cases of magick being used against others," Cal explained. "Now they mostly try to set guidelines about appropriate use of magick, and they try to consolidate magickal knowledge." I shook my head, not quite understanding. "And Hunter's part of it?” Page 61
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Cal shrugged. "He says he is. I think he's lying, but who knows? Maybe the council is really hard up for members."
He gave a short laugh. "Mostly he's just a second-rate witch with delusions of grandeur." "Delusions is right," I murmured, remembering how Hunter had claimed his cold was the result of a spell. That was so obviously ridiculous that maybe I should just forget about everything else he'd said, too. But somehow I couldn't.
Cal glanced at me. "He told you that you were Woodbane?" "Yes," I said stiffly. "And I went inside and found it in Maeve's BOS. I am Woodbane. All of Belwicket was. Did you know?"
Cal didn't answer right away. Instead he seemed to weigh my words. He looked at the fire. "How do you feel about that?" he finally asked. "Bad," I said honestly. "I would have been really proud to be Rowanwand or even anything else. But to be Woodbane. it's like finding out my ancestors are a long line of jailbirds and lowlifes. Worse, really. Much worse."
Cal laughed again. He turned to me. "No, it's not, my love. It's not that bad." "How can you say that?"
"It's easy," he said with a grin. "Nowadays it isn't a big deal. Like I said, people have sort of a prejudiced view of Woodbanes, but they're ignoring all their good qualities, like strength, and loyalty, and power, and pursuit of knowledge."
I stared at him. "You didn't know I was a Woodbane? I'm sure your mom does." Cal shook his head. "No, I didn't know. I haven't read Maeve's book, and Mom didn't discuss it with me. Listen, knowing you're Woodbane isn't a bad thing. It's better than not knowing your clan at all. Better than being a mongrel I've always thought the Woodbanes have gotten a bad rap-you know, revisionist history."
I turned back to the fire. "He said you were Woodbane, too," I whispered. "We don't know what we are," Cal said quietly. "Mom has done a lot of research, but it isn't clear. But if we were, would it matter to you? Would you not love me?" "Of course it wouldn't matter," I said. The flames crackled with life before us, and I rested my head on Cal's shoulder. As upset as I had been, I was starting to feel better. I I gently kicked off my shoes and stretched my feet out to the fire. My socks hung loose. The heat felt delicious on my toes, and I sighed. I still had more questions to ask.
"Why did Hunter say he was your brother?" Cal's eyes darkened. "Because my dad's a high priest and very powerful. Hunter wants to be that way, too. And he is the son of the woman my father married after he left my mom. So we're at least stepbrothers." Page 62
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I swallowed, wincing. "Ouch," I murmured. "I'm sorry." "Yeah. Me too. I wish I'd never met him." " How did you meet?" I asked cautiously. "At a convention, two years ago," Cal answered. I was startled into laughter. "A witch convention?" "Uh-huh," said Cal, smiling a little. "I met Hunter, and he informed me we were only six months apart and brothers. Which would mean that my father had deliberately gotten another woman pregnant while my mom was pregnant with me. I hated Hunter for that. I still don't want to believe it. So no matter what Hunter says, I say that his father is someone else, not my dad. I can't accept that my father, total jerk that he is, would have done that." He put his arm around me, and I rested my chin on his chest hearing the steady thumping of his heart, sleepily watching the fire. "Is that why Hunter is acting this way?" "Yeah, I think so. Somehow he's all... I don't know, bent and twisted. It must have something to do with his childhood. I know I shouldn't hate him—it's not his fault my dad's life is so messy. But he just—got off on telling me that my dad fathered him. Like he enjoyed hurting me." I gently stroked Cal's wavy hair. "I'm sorry," I said again. Cal gave a rueful chuckle, and I wanted to comfort him, the way he had comforted me so many times. Gently, I kissed him, trying to give him love he could be sure of. He almost purred with contentment and held me closer.
"Why was Hunter here, in your mother's house, the night when she had the circle?" I asked softly when I stopped for breath.
"He likes to keep in touch with us," Cal said sarcastically. "I don't know why. Sometimes I think he likes Mom and me to just remember he's alive, that he exists. Rubbing our faces | in it, I guess." I shuddered. "Ugh. He's horrible. I don't feel the least bit l sorry for him. I just can't stand him—and I hate what he's 1 doing to you. If he keeps on, he'd better watch out." Cal grinned. "Mmmm, I like it when you talk tough." "I'm serious," I told him. "I'll zap him with witch fire so hard, he won't know what hit him." I flexed my fingers, surprised at the violence of my own feelings. Cal's smile broadened, but he said, "Look, let's just change the subject." He kissed me, then pulled away. "I have a question for you. What are you thinking about in terms of college?” I furrowed my brow, surprised and bemused. "I'm not sure," I said. "For a while I thought I'd apply to MIT or maybe Cal Tech. You know, something for math." "Brain," Cal teased affectionately. Page 63
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"Why do you want to know?" I asked. It seemed so oddly normal, coming right after all this talk about a Council of Witches and ancient magickal clans. "I've been thinking about our future," he said. His tone was very straightforward, relaxed. "I was thinking about going to Europe next year, maybe taking a year off to travel. I was also thinking, maybe I could get us a little place when I come back and we could both go to the same school.” My eyes widened with shock. “You mean...live together?” I whispered. “Yes. Live together.”he said, flashing me a little half grin as if he were talking about doing homework together or going to see a movie. “I want to be with you.”He drew back and looked deeply in my eyes. “No one's ever wanted to protect me before, like you do.” My breath came fast at the thought. Laughing, I grabbed him, knocking him back on the sofa. I meant to kiss him, but we ended up toppling onto the floor with a thud. “Ow,”said Cal, rubbing his head. He smiled at me and I kissed him. But right at that moment I caught a glimpse of an old grandfather clock. My spirits sank. It was getting late. Mom and dad would start to worry.
“I have to go,”I said reluctantly. “Someday you won't have to,”he promised. Then I was getting my coat, melting with happiness, and Cal was walking me out. I didn't even feel the cold until I was almost home.
13. Darkside
Litha, Until now my life has been winter. But last night, at my initiation, spring broke through the ice. It was magick. Aunt Shelagh and Uncle Beck led the rite. The coven elders gathered around. I was blindfolded and given wine to drink. I was tested and I answered the best I could. In my blindness I made a circle and drew my r
unes and cast my spells. The warmth of the summer night fled before the cold draughts of the North Sea, blowing off the coast. Someone held the sharp point of a dagger to my right eye and told me to step forward. I tried to remember if I'd seen any coven members with ruined eyes, and I couldn't, Page 64
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so I stepped smartly forward, and the sharp tip faded away. I sang my song of initiation alone, in the darkness, with the weight of the magick pressing in on me, and my feet stumbling in the rough heathers of the headland. I sang my song, and the magick came to me and lifter me up, and I felt huge and powerful and bursting with joy and knowledge. The I was unblindfolded and the initiation was complete. I was a witch and a full0grown man in the eyes of the craft. We drank wine and I hugged everyone. Even uncle Beck, and he hugged me back and told me he was proud of me. Cousin Athar teased me but I just grinned at her. Later I hunted Molly F. down and gave her a real kiss, and she pushed me away and threatened to tell Aunt Shelagh. I guess I wasn't as much of a man as I thought. -Giomanach
On Friday when I woke up, the remnants of disturbing dreams fluttered in my mind like torn banners. I stretched several times, trying to snap myself out of it—and then they faded, and I had no idea what they'd been: there were no lingering images or clear emotions to give me a clue. I just knew they'd been bad. I
I had stayed up too late the night before, reading both Maeve's Book of Shadows and the book about Woodbanes that Alyce had given to me. It was still very strange for me, knowing Maeve was my birth mother and now knowing she was also Woodbane. Throughout my entire life I had felt just a bit different from my family, and I had wondered why. The odd thing was, now that I knew my origins, I felt more like a Rowlands and less like an Irish witch. I could tell it was cold and disgusting outside just from looking out the window. And I was snug in my bed, and I had beside me a small kitten who was completely adorable and sound asleep. So there was no way I was getting up. "Morgan, you have to hurry!" Mary K. shouted, sounding frantic. A second later she burst into my room and tugged at my comforter. "We have ten minutes to get to school, and it's snowing and I can't ride my bike. Come on!"
Damn, I thought, giving in. One day I would really have to act on my desire to skip school. We made it just as the late bell rang, and I skittered into class just as my name was called for roll. "Here!" I said unnecessarily, panting and sliding into my seat. As Tamara smirked at me, I pulled out my brush and began untangling my hair. Across the room Bree sat talking to Chip Newton. I thought about Sky and Raven and their coven, about Sky telling them about the dark side. I still didn't have a clear idea of what the dark side was except for some vague paragraphs in one of my Wicca books. I would have to do more research. I would have to finish reading the book Alyce had given me about the Woodbanes. Cal had said there was no dark side per se, there was only the circle of Wicca. Maybe I should ask Alyce about it.
I glanced over at Bree, as if looking at her would tell me what she was doing or thinking. I used to be able to look in her eyes and know exactly what was going on with her—and also tell her exactly what was going on with me. Not anymore. We spoke different languages now. Page 65
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It was an odd day.
At school Matt wouldn't meet my eyes. Jenna seemed nervous. Cal was fine, of course; we both knew we had reached a new level of closeness. We'd made plans for the future. Every time we saw each other, we smiled. He was a ray of light to me. Robbie was his usual comforting self, and it was interesting to see how girls who'd never noticed him before were now going out of their way to talk to him, to walk next to him, to pepper him with questions about homework and chess problems and what kind of music he liked. Ethan and Sharon were still circling each other flirtatiously. Yet the whole day I felt on edge somehow. I hadn't gotten enough sleep, and I had too many questions ricocheting around my brain. I couldn't relax and pay attention in class. In my mind I kept going over what I had read in Maeve's book. Then my thoughts would flash to Hunter's bizarre behavior—and then to lying with Cal in front of the fire at his house, feeling so full of love for him. Why couldn't I focus? I needed to be alone or, better yet, with Cal—to meditate and focus my energy. After school I waited for Cal by his car. He was talking to Matt, and I wondered what they were saying. Matt looked uncomfortable, but he was nodding. Cal seemed to be making him feel better. That was good. But I also hoped he was letting Matt know that it was very uncool to mess around with Raven behind Jenna's back.
Finally Cal saw me. He strolled right over and put his arms around me, pinning me to his car. I was aware of Nell Norton walking by, looking envious, and I enjoyed it. "What are you up to right now?" I asked. "Can you hang out?" "I wish I could," he said, holding a handful of hair and kissing my forehead. "Mom has some people in from out of town, and she wants me to meet with them. People from her old coven in Manhattan." "How many covens has she had?" I asked, curious. "Hmmm, let's see," Cal said, counting under his breath. "Eight I think. She forms a coven in a new place and makes sure they're really strong, then she trains a new leader, and when they're ready, she moves on." He smiled down at me. "She's like the Johnny Appleseed of Wicca." I laughed. Cal kissed me again and got into his car, and I headed for Das Boot. A minivan slowed next to me, and the window went down. "Going home with Jaycee!" Mary K. called. She waved, and I waved back. I saw Robbie pull away in his car, and down the block Bree climbed into her BMW and drove off. I wished I knew where she was going but didn't have the emotional or physical energy to follow her. Instead I headed for Red Kill.
Practical Magick smelled like steam and tea and candles burning. I stepped in and felt myself relax for the first time since I had pried myself out of bed this morning. For a moment I stood just inside the door, warming up, feeling my chest expand and my fingers thaw. My hair was slightly damp from the snow, and I shook it out so it would dry. David looked up Page 66
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from the checkout counter and regarded me with his full attention. He didn't smile but somehow he conveyed the impression of being glad to see me. Maybe I was finally used to him, because it felt like seeing an old friend. I hadn't felt an immediate connection with him as I had with Alyce, and I wasn't sure why. But maybe I was getting over it.
"Hello, Morgan," he said. "How are you?" I thought for a moment, then shook my head with a tired smile. "I don't know."
David nodded, then stepped through a curtained door in back of the counter, revealing a small, cluttered room. I saw a tiny, battered table with three chairs, a rusty apartment-size fridge, and a two-burner hot plate. A teakettle was already starting to whistle there. Strange, I thought. Had he somehow known I was coming?
"You look like you could use some tea," he called. "Tea would be great," I said sincerely, deciding to accept the friendship he seemed to be offering. "Thanks." I stuffed my gloves into my pockets and looked around the store. No one else was here. "Slow day?" I asked.
"We had some people in this morning," David replied from behind the curtain. "But it's been quiet this afternoon. I like it this way."
I wondered if they made any money doing this. "Um, who owns this store?" I asked. "My aunt Rose, actually," said David. "But she's very old now, and doesn't come in much anymore. I've been working here for years—on and off since right after college." I heard some clinking of spoons in mugs, and then he ducked back through the curtain, carrying two steaming cups. He handed one to me. I took it gratefully, inhaling its unusual fragrance. "Thanks. What kind of tea is this?" David grinned and sipped his own. "You tell me." I looked at him uncertainly, and he just waited. Was this a test? Feeling self-conscious, I closed my eyes and sniffed deeply. The tea had several scents: they blended together into a sweet whole, and I couldn't identify any of them.
“I don't know.”I said
“You do,”Davi
d encouraged quietly. “Just listen to it.” Once again I closed my eyes and inhaled, and this time I let go of the knowledge that this was tea in a mug. I focused on the oder, on the qualities carried by the water's steam. Slowly I breathed in and out, stilling my thoughts, relaxing my tension. The more still I became, the more I felt part of the tea. In my mind's eye I saw the gentle steam rising and swaying before me, dissolving in the slightest breath of air. Speak to me, I thought. Show me your nature. Then, as I watched inside my mind, the steam coiled and separated into four streams, like a fine Page 67
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thread unraveling, With my next breath I was alone in a meadow. It was sunny and warm, and I reached out to touch a perfect, rounded pink blossom. It's heavy aroma tickled my nose and bathed me in its beauty.
"Rose," I whispered.
David was quiet.
I turned to the next steam thread and followed it, saw it being dug from the ground, black dirt clinging to its rough skin. It was washed and peeled, and when its pink flesh was grated, a sharp tang was released.
"Oh, ginger," I listed, nodding. The third strand drifted from rows and rows of low-growing, silver-green plants covered with purple flowers. More bees than I had ever seen buzzed over the plants, creating a vibrant, living mantle of insects. Hot sun, black earth, and the incessant drone filled me with a drowsy contentment. "Lavender."