Sweep - Origins Part 1

Origins.

Sweep.

Cate Tiernan.

The chronicle of the deadly Woodbane conspiracy-as told by one of Morgan's own ancestors-has fallen into Hunter and Morgan's hands. Hunter and Morgan explore the world of these powerful witches, to find a way to vanquish them at last.

With thanks to Silver, And with love for my children of the Barley and Snow Moons.

Prologue.

aHey, Morgan!a Afternoon sunlight bounced off the cars in the high school parking lot as I turned to face my best friend, Bree Warren. I knew that she was eager to catch up with mea"Iad been kind of cranky and out of sorts all weeka"but at the moment I was in a huge hurry. I leaned against the driveras side of my huge a71 Plymouth Valiant, which Iad nicknamed aDas Boot.a aWhatas up, Bree?a Bree ran up and stopped a few feet away from me, gasping for breath. aI just wanted to sort of check in, see how you were doing today.a I nodded. aWell, I heard from Hunter last night. Iam supposed to go to his house now.a Her eyes widened in comprehension. aOh. So Hunteras back.a aApparently so.a Hunter Niall, my boyfriend of two monthsa"was it possible it had been only that long? I couldnat imagine life without him. I loved him with all my heart and soul and was fairly certain that he was my mirn beatha dn, my soul mate. He had left a little over two weeks ago to find his parents.

aAre you nervous?a Bree looked at me sympathetically.

aA little.a I sighed. All the time Hunter had been gone, wead had only one conversation. Worried, I had scried for him and found him with another woman. Not kissing or anything romantica"thank the G.o.ddess for thata"but locked in a pa.s.sionate conversation. I wasnat sure what to make of the whole thing. I was afraid to think too hard about it.

aIam sure itall be okay,a she said confidently. aHunter loves you, Morgan. You can see it in his eyes when he looks at you. You have nothing to worry about.a I looked up at Bree, feeling a little comforted. aThanks. I just love him so much. Well, you know how I feel.a She nodded. aI donat want to keep you, then.a She smoothed down a lock of s.h.i.+ny dark hair and gave me a concerned frown. aListen, I hope everythingas okay. I know youave been worried. Let me know if you need to talk, all right?a aAll right.a I smiled. It seemed like Bree had gotten even more beautiful, more caring, more empathetic since she had fallen in love with my other best friend, Robbie Gurevitch. Not that shead been totally selfish beforea"she just seemed warmer now, more open.

aSee you tomorrow.a aaBye.a Bree headed back toward the school and Robbie, and I climbed into Das Boot and swung out of the parking lot. It was mid-March, and the sidewalks were still covered with glistening, melting snow. I tried to calm my nerves as I drove toward Hunteras rented house on the other side of town. But the truth was, I was very afraid. Afraid of what Hunter would tell me. Afraid that I wouldnat want to hear it.

After I arrived, I sat in Hunteras driveway for a few minutes with the car running, trying to collect my thoughts. On the one hand, this was Hunter. Hunter, whom I loved and had missed terriblya"I couldnat wait to see him. But on the other hand, what if he had found something new and wonderful in Canada? What if that was why he hadnat called me? What if he had been afraid to tell me something hurtful over the phone?

Sighing, I pulled the key from the ignition and smoothed my worn cords. I ran a quick hand through my long brown hair and decided that taming it was a lost cause. Taking a deep breath, I climbed out of Das Boot and headed for the door. I reached out my hand to ring the doorbell, but before I could get there, the door opened.

aMorgan.a aHunter.a As soon as I saw Hunteras facea"serious, lovinga"my fears and anger faded away. I wrapped my arms around him, buried my face in the crook of his neck, and breathed in his warm, familiar scent.

aI missed you,a I murmured into his collar. aI was so worried.a aI know, love.a I could feel Hunteras hand rubbing my back, his other hand reaching up to stroke my hair. aI missed you, too. I wanted you there with me every moment.a aEvery moment?a I asked, unable to prevent myself from picturing him arguing with the woman from my vision.

aEvery moment.a Hunter leaned back and looked at me, then turned and gestured to his living room. aSit down for a moment and let me get you some tea. Thereas lots to talk about.a I nodded, pulling off my coat and looking around. aWhereas your father?a Our phone conversation the night before had been very brief, largely due to the fact that it was after midnight and my mother was standing beside me in the hallway with steam coming out of her ears because head called so late. All I had learned from Hunter was that he had found his dad, who was in poor health, and that he had convinced him to come back with him to Widowas Vale. His mother, unfortunately, had died three months earlier, around Yule. Hunter hadnat said as much, but I could sense his frustration at not finding her in time and his grief over losing the mother head had so little time with.

aHeas asleep,a Hunter called, heading for the kitchen. aHeas been sleeping almost nonstop since we left his cottage. Iam hoping that all the rest will be good for him. He certainly needs it.a I settled on the sofa, and after a few minutes Hunter joined me, holding two cups of chamomile tea. aFor you,a he said, handing a cup to me and sitting down. aI think we could both use some soothing after the past couple of weeks.a I sipped my tea, closed my eyes, and tried to let all of my fears, all of my insecurities and anger run out of me. aHunter,a I said finally, feeling more calm, atell me what happened in Canada.a Hunteras jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and I saw a darkness pa.s.s over his eyes. aIt was. difficult.a He paused and sipped his tea. aI feel like Iave been tested in ways I never could have predicted or imagined. My mum is dead.a He looked at me briefly, and I nodded slowly. aShe and my da had been on the run from the dark wave for all those yearsa"eleven years.a He sighed. aIt was Selene, you know. Selene Belltower sent the dark wave after them because she couldnat forgive my da for leaving her and Cal.a I gasped. Selene Belltower and her son, Cal, had first introduced me to the world of Wicca. It was Cal who told me I was a blood witch. Iad then realized that I was adopted, that I was the biological daughter of Maeve Riordan and Ciaran MacEwana"two very powerful, and very different, witches. I had thought that Cal was my true love, my mirn beatha dn, but it turned out that he was a p.a.w.n of his mother, who wanted to harness my power for her own dark uses. And Iad learned that before Hunter was born, his father had loved and married Selene, making Cal Hunteras half brother. Both Cal and Selene were dead nowa"Selene had died trying to steal my power, and in the end Cal had died trying to save me.

aIt was Selene?a I asked finally, and Hunter nodded.

aMy mum scried for the dark wave in Mexico, and she got too close. She was never the same after that, and she died last December. After that my da moved to a tiny village in French Canada. He was living in filth, like a madman. I found out he was acting as a sort of medicine man to the local population, selling his services as a witch, which was bad enough. But I soon realized that he was also doing something much worsea"he was contacting the villagersa dead loved ones through a bith dearc and receiving payment for it.a I looked at Hunter in disbelief. aContacting the dead? I didnat think that was possible.a Hunter nodded again. aIt is. A bith dearc is an opening into the shadow world where spirits reside after they die. It doesnat naturally occur very often, and itas very rarely used by agooda witchesa"only when itas imperative to get information. My father began using the bith dearc to try to contact my mother. Heas utterly lost without her.a Hunteras mouth twisted into a strange expressiona"he looked angry, sad, and understanding of his fatheras devotion all at the same time.

aWow,a I said softly. aHow horrible for your dad. How horrible for you.a I touched his arm, and he looked up at me gratefully.

aAnyway,a he continued, awhile I was there, he succeeded in contacting my mum. So I got to say good-bye to her, which wasa"priceless. But a bith dearc saps a living witchas strength, and my da was fading every day. I had to get him away from that village before he killed himself. The council gave me an a.s.signment in a town three hours away, and I took him with me. While we were there, he agreed to come here to live with me for a while.a Hunter turned to me and smiled and shrugged, as if to say, aThe end.a aThatas not everything, though,a I challenged. aThere was a woman. I saw you with her. I know you felt me scrying for you.a Hunteras smile faded, and he nodded. aJustine,a he said quietly. aJustine Courceau. She was my a.s.signment from the council.a Hunter was a Seeker for the International Council of Witches, which meant that he investigated witches suspected of using dark magick. aWhat was she doing?a I asked.

Hunter sighed. aSheas a kind of. rogue. Sheas the only witch in her small town, and she believes that knowledge is purea"any knowledge. She was collecting true names. of people.a My eyes went wide. That was a major Wiccan no-no. aI was sent there to stop her and destroy her list.a aDid you?a I asked, remembering the emotion on Hunteras face when I had scried for him.

aYes.a Hunter frowned, and his voice grew softer. aJustine was very pa.s.sionate about what she believed in. When you saw us, we were arguing about whether the list was inherently bad. I was under a lot of stress, and she was very. persistent.a I stared at him, dreading his next words.

aI kissed her,a Hunter continued, and my heart plunged. aI knew as soon as I did it that it was a mistake. I was lonely and. sad. I missed you. I wanted you.a Hunter groaned softly. I turned away. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. I couldnat look at him right now.

aHow does kissing another woman. mean that you want to spend time with me?a I stared at the wall. I couldnat imagine wanting to kiss anyone else, anyone but Hunter, for any reason. I struggled to get it all to make sense, but I just couldnat.

I could hear Hunteras sigh. aI donat know, Morgan, and Iam sorry. So sorry. If there was some way that I could undo it, I would.a I shook my head. aBut you canat.a aI know.a I felt Hunteras fingers touch my back, but I scooted away. aMorgan, I donat know what to say, how to explain it all to you. I love you very much. Youare my mirn beatha dn, and I know that.a I let out a ragged breath, like I was about to cry. Dammita"no! I took a deep lungful of air, not wanting to fall apart in front of Hunter. I wanted to hear what he had to say about this. I wanted to act like an adult.

Hunter went on. aThe whole drive home, you were all I could think about. If you want to know why in that moment I kissed Justine, I can scarcely figure it out myself. It happened quickly. I felt like everything in my life was going the wrong way. My job with the council, my fathera"a aa"and me,a I finished for him. aBecause I scried for you. Without asking. And before you lefta"a My voice caught again. Before Hunter left, we had been planning to make love. But at the last minute Hunter had backed out. Head said he didnat want to love me and leave mea"he wanted to be there for me, my first time, on the morning after. I had felt ridiculous then, and I felt even more so now.

Hunter put his hand on my shoulder, and this time I was too busy trying not to cry to pull away. aMorgan, this has nothing to do with what happened before I left. I love you, and of course I want to make love with youa"it just wasnat the right time. You know that. I was startled when you scried for me, and everything else was going wrong. I suppose I was angry. I was wrong, and Iam sorry. Justine means nothing to me. Itas you I love.a Sniffling, I tried to calm myself down. I reached for my tea and took a sip, then sighed and slowly turned my body to face Hunter. aI know you do,a I whispered. aIt just. hurts. And I still donat understand.a Hunter frowned, leaning forward to brush my hair out of my eyes. aMaybe I canat make you understand,a he said softly. aI can only say again that I love you, and Iam so sorry for hurting you.a I looked up into Hunteras eyesa"they were warm, filled with concern and love. But I still hurt. aMaybe,a I said softly. aI canat say I forgive you yet. Youall have to give me some time.a Hunter nodded, and I could see sadness welling up in his eyes. aMorgan, I canat say Iam sorry enough.a I looked down at my tea, cradling the cup in my hands. I didnat say anything. I didnat know what to say anymore.

Hunter sat back in the sofa. aMorgan, thereas more newsa"if you want to hear it.a I turned the teacup in my hand, feeling utterly overwhelmed. aWhat next?a I asked sarcastically. I was dreading his next revelation. Everything up to this point had been awful.

aFirst,a he said after a moment, athe council. Morgan, the council had been in contact with my parents months agoa"back when my mother was sick, before she died. They knew where my parents were and didnat tell me.a I turned to look at him. aWhat? How do you know? Are you sure?a Hunter nodded. aMy da told me. He thought I already knew. My mentor, Kenneta"he sent a healer for my mum back in December.a I frowned. aSoa"a aSo they betrayed me. They probably wanted me here, to protect you. And I donat regret thata"truly, I donat regret that at all. But they didnat give me the choice. They let me believe that my parents were still missing.a I stared at him, at the hurt in his face. I could see how this would affect him. He had missed seeing his mother alive because head had to stay here and protect me. Hunter had placed all of his trust in the council since he had become their youngest Seeker a year ago, and this was how they treated him. aWhat are you going to do?a Hunter shook his head. aI donat know.a I slowly put my cup down. aWas there something else?a I asked shortly, dreading the answer.

Hunter nodded, looking stung. I knew he wanted forgiveness, but I wasnat ready to give him that. aStay here for a moment,a he said as he slid off the couch and went upstairs to his bedroom. In a few seconds he thumped back down the stairs, holding an ancient-looking book under his arm.

aWhatas that?a Hunter came closer and held it out to me. aThis is very interesting. Itas a record of sorts. My father found it in Justineas library.a I shuddered at hearing her name again, but I composed myself and took the book from him carefully, so that I didnat have to touch his hands. I ran my hands over the cover, which was made of torn and faded leather. Opening it, I could see that the pages were handwritten. aA Book of Shadows?a aNot a Book of Shadows, exactly.a Hunter flipped the pages back to the beginning, where a handwritten t.i.tle page read, A Book of Spelles and Memories, by Rose MacEwan. aItas more like a memoir.a aRose MacEwan,a I whispered. aDo you think.?a Hunter nodded gravely. aShe lived in Scotland during the Burning Times. Itas very likely that she was an ancestor of yours. This book could be invaluable for what it can tell us about the dark wave spell and how it came into being. My daas read most of it, but I havenat looked at it at all.a He closed the cover of the book and looked up at me hopefully. aWould you like to read it with me, Morgan?a I looked into Hunteras clear green eyes. I could see his love for me, pure and unbending, along with the pain head suffered and his hope for the future. My heart still ached with the knowledge of what head done, but I hoped that wead be okay. eventually. I turned my attention to the book. When I ran my hand again over the worn embossed cover, I felt a rush of energy. My ancestor. I knew it.

aYes,a I said finally. aLetas read it.a

1. Scotland, April 1682.

The rose stone.

It glimmered brightly in my palm, catching the few rays of light allowed in by the drab portals of the church. The reverend mumbled on, glorifying the Christian G.o.d. My thoughts were far from the church altar as I considered the spell I would cast over this precious gem.

Beside me, my mother lifted her head from pretending to pray. I closed my fist suddenly, not wanting her to see the stone that Iad borrowed from her cupboard of magickal things. The crystal, with its soft, pink hue, was known to evoke peaceful, loving feelings. It was a wonder to me that I shared the same name as the stonea"Rosea"yet I had never come close to falling in love. Ma raised her brows, chastising me without words, and I dropped the stone back into my pocket and clasped my hands the way the Presbyterians did.

Would Ma mind that I had borrowed the stone for Kyra? I wondered. Ever since my initiation my mother had encouraged me to work on my own magick, practice my own spells and rituals. But somehow I didnat think she would appreciate that one of my first attempts would be to cast a love spell for my best friend. My mother had warned me against using spells that tamper with a personas free will, but a love spell was for the good, I thought. Besides, Falkner had been oblivious to Kyra for so long, and I knew she was getting desperate.

A few rows ahead Kyra turned to me, her mouth twitching slightly before she turned back to the front of the church. I knew what she was thinking. That church was tedious. Nothing like our beautiful circles in the woods, gatherings lit by candles, sometimes festooned by ribbons, blessed with the magickal presence of the G.o.ddess. Not that I had any quarrel with the Christian G.o.d. Time and again Ma had reminded me that they were all the samea"G.o.d or G.o.ddess, it was one force we wors.h.i.+pped, albeit different forms. The problem was the ministers, who could not open their minds to accept our homage and devotion to the G.o.ddess. Consequently the kingas men and the Christians were ever crossing over the countryside in a mad witch-hunt that brought about dire results.

Makes.h.i.+ft trials. Hangings. Witches burned at the stake.

And so every week my mother and I knelt in this church, our heads bowed, our hands folded. We pretended to practice Presbyterianism so that we might avoid the fate suffered by other members of the Seven Clans who had been persecuted for practicing magick, for wors.h.i.+ping the G.o.ddess. The puritanical wave that had been moving through Scotland had claimed many a life. The toll across the land was frightening, with tales of so many witches persecuted, most of them women.

Just last year a woman from our own coven, a gentle wisp of a la.s.s named Fionnula, had been found killing a peahen with a bolline marked with runes. Those of us who knew her understood that the hen was not intended as an offering to the G.o.ddess but as a very necessary meal. Still, the townspeople could not see beyond the fact of the strange markings on the small knife she used to kill the bird. Fionnula had been charged with sacrifice and wors.h.i.+pping the devil.

I lifted my eyes to the altar, staring at the robed back of the murmuring reverend who had been so instrumental in Fionnulaas fate. At her trial Reverend Winthrop had testified that the young woman missed his sermon every week, defying the Christian G.o.d. He had called her a va.s.sal of Satan.

I clenched my hands, recalling the horrified look in Fionnulaas eyes as she was sentenced to death. Christians had come from nearby villages to witness the triala"a ghastly spectacle in these partsa"and although every Wodebayne had wanted to save her, no one spoke in her defense. aTwas far too dangerous.

The following day she was hanged as a witch.

Sometimes when I catch suspicious gestures of the townspeoplea"a curious stare or a whispered commenta"I canat help but recall the fear in Fionnulaas dark eyes. Her execution brought a new veil of secrecy to our circles. More rules pa.s.sed down by my mother, who was sometimes a bit overbearing in her role as high priestess. Ma wanted me to see less of my friend Meara, a kind girl who loved to laugh but was born into a staid Presbyterian family. Everyone in the coven had been warned to take great care in all their a.s.sociations, whether it be trading baked goods for mutton or simply was.h.i.+ng garments in the brook. No one outside our all-Wodebayne coven was to be trusted.

Tools were to be well hidden and guarded by spells that made them unnoticeable. Skyclad circles were no longer safe, and when we gathered for an Esbat or a sabbat circle, coveners went into the woods in small groups of two. We were so afraid of being caught that we tried not to be seen gathering together at market or in the villagea"nothing beyond a cordial greeting. And now every member of the coven attended church every Sunday.

We were prisoners in our own village. By night we practiced our craft in secret. By day we played at being just like the rest of the townspeople.

The injustice of it fired up a fury within me. That my mothera"Sle, high priestess of our covena"should have to kneel amid their wooden pews. It was a travesty, to be sure. Just one of the heavy burdens upon my shoulders, making me feel like a trapped animal in a dark sack that was closing in around me. There were so many rules governing my world. I had to hide the fact that I was a blood witch from the townsfolk. I had to avoid contact with other clans, whose members considered themselves our rivals although we were all witches and wors.h.i.+pped the same G.o.ddess. (This was a tedious war, I felt, but I had been told the rivalry among the Seven Clans had worn on through many generations.) I had to make entries into my Book of Shadows, gather and dry herbs, learn to make healing tonics and candles, bless and inscribe my own tools.

Aye, the life of Rose MacEwan was filled with constraints. Was it any wonder that I felt suffocated by them?

When I thought of what would make me happy, the answer was not forthcoming. I wasnat quite sure of my own heartas desire; however, I knew that my destiny was not to spend the rest of my life concocting spells and practicing witchcraft secretly in this remote, provincial village.

At last the prayers ended and townsfolk began to file out of the church. I waded into the aisle, hoping to catch Kyra before her parents whisked her back to their cottage. Kyra was my lifelong friend, a member of my clan and coven, though she was not as adept at casting spells as I was said to be.

Wouldnat she be surprised to see what Iad brought for her? I reached into the pocket of my skirts and closed my hand around the small gem. My fingertips felt warmed by the stone. I planned to give it to Kyra to help her attract Falkner Radburn, a boy from our own Wodebayne coven. Falkner was all Kyra had spoken of since the children jumped the broom-stick at Samhain. All winter long I had heard of Falkneras strength and Falkneras eyes. Falkner this and Falkner that. Bad enough that poor Kyra was captivated by him, but to make matters worse, Falkner was unaware of her love.

I had agreed to help my friend, though I didnat really understand why she favored him. Then again, I had never known any attraction like that. In my eyes boys were silly galloping creatures, and men had nothing to do with me. They seemed to me like the wolves who roamed at night, pouncing on their prey without warning. I was a Wodebayne of seventeen years, initiated into the ways of the G.o.ddess at fourteen, and as most girls my age were already betrothed or wed, I had come to the conclusion that I would never meet a man who caught my fancy. Since it hadnat happened as yet, I felt that the G.o.ddess didnat intend it to be.

Outside the church, Ma greeted the Presbyterian villagers cordially. I kept my head bowed, not wanting to meet their eyes or see the cruel faces that had so quickly sentenced Fionnula to death. Some time had pa.s.sed since her trial, yet I could not forgive these people for their crime. I would never forgive them.

aGood day to you, Rose,a said a familiar voice.

I turned to see Meara, her freckled face wrought with shadows. aMeara, I didnat see you inside.a aDa and I were late getting in. Ma was up all night with the pains, but sheas back resting again. Da said we should come to church and pray to Christ Jesus for her recovery.a Mearaas mother had not truly recovered from the birth of her sixth child a few months earlier, and as the oldest daughter, the burden of taking over her maas responsibilities fell on Mearaas shoulders. I felt sorry for her, having to tidy up the cottage, mind the young bairns, and cook enough porridge for the whole brood of them.

aWhoas caring for the children, then?a I asked her.

aMaas sister, Linette, has come from the south to help for a while.a Her eyes were hollow, and I wasnat sure if it was simply tiredness or fear over what might happen to her mother. Ma had visited Mearaas mother once, hoping to help. She told me theyad talked awhile and she had tried to raise the womanas spirits, but atwas all Ma could do. She didnat dare pa.s.s on healing herbs or place her hands on the ailing womanas worn belly to perform a spell. And that was the shame of it; Ma had the power to perhaps cure Mearaas mother, but since that very act could get Ma hanged as a witch, it would not be done.

aI havenat seen you down by the brook lately,a Meara told me. aDo you not draw water for was.h.i.+ng?a aMa sends me later now,a I said awkwardly. aShe says the morning chill is too much.a It was a lie, and I hated telling it to Meara, who had always been a good friend. But the truth was, Ma had told me to find a different place to draw water so that I wouldnat meet Meara every morning. aItas too dangerous, the two of you talking with such ease,a Ma had told me. aOne of these days youare liable to slip and speak the G.o.ddessas name or mention the coming Esbat, and that sort of breach I cannot allow.a Mearaas father summoned her from the edge of the crowd.

aIad better go,a Meara said reluctantly. aG.o.dspeed.a I nodded, wondering what would happen to my friend if her ma pa.s.sed. Already Meara was acting as mother to the large family. My own father had died when I was but five years of age, and though I often wished for the protection a father could offer, I remembered so little of him. Losing a mother had to be worse.

aTell your ma...a I wanted to espouse an herbal tea that would help her mother feel better, but I knew it was too dangerous. I sighed. aTell your ma I will pray for her.a Meara nodded, then went off with her da.

Ma was speaking with Mrs. MacTavish, an elderly woman from our coven whoad been suffering from a hacking cough. As she spoke, I slipped away from Maas side to find Kyra.

Gently I took my friendas arm and led her away from her ma and da. Feeling whimsical, I touched the stone in my pocket. aI have something for you,a I said quietly. aSomething to attract your certain someone.a She stared at me, uncomprehending.

I glanced around to make sure that none of the villagers were paying us any mind. Folks were engaged in the usual chatter, complaints of the long winter and worries over the spring planting. I turned back to Kyra. aCan you guess whatas in my pocket?a When she shook her head, I whispered in her ear, aIave brought an amulet for you to attract Falkner.a Her cheeks grew pink at my words, and I wanted to laugh aloud. Kyra was so easy to embarra.s.s. She took my hand and pulled me off the stone path, away from the churchgoers. aWould you have everyone in the Highlands hear of my secret love?a aHarmless words,a I said, adding in a whisper, athough I dare not show you the magickal gem before everyone in the village.a The sun was still rising in the sky, promising a warm spring morning. Only days before, the last of the snow had melted from the ground. aCome with me to the woods,a I said. aI need to collect herbs. Weall do the gathering ritual together, and afterward weall charge the rose stone.a aOh, I wish I could, but I promised Ma I would help with the baking.a Kyra pressed a hand over her heart. aAre you sure the stone holds power?a aMa used to let me hold it whenever we quarreled. Itas powerful enough.a Turning slightly, Kyra glanced toward the crowd still spilling out of the church. I knew she was looking for Falkner, a beanpole of a boy who had yet to show any signs of intelligence in my presence. aNothing seems to work on him,a she said wistfully. aHe canat even spare me a glance. Itas as if Iam just a pa.s.sing dragonfly, hardly worthy of notice.a I pressed my lips together, wis.h.i.+ng that Kyra wouldnat go into it again. It was precisely the reason I had borrowed the rose stone from Maas cupboard: to put an end to my friendas pining and suffering. aCome to the woods with me, then,a I said.

aKyra!a her mother called. Her parents were ready to leave.

She nodded at her ma respectfully, then tilted her head. aI cannot go,a she told me regretfully. One chestnut braid slipped over her sapphire cloak. aBut I do want the stone. Can you leave it on my doorstep? In a basket by the woodpile?a aI dare not. Itas too precious a thing to leave out.a aRose...a aMaybe tomorrow. Stop by our cottage on your way to market,a I told her, wis.h.i.+ng that Kyra could just once summon the courage to sneak away from her parents. She was my friend, but in every situation I was the bolder. While I dreamed of travel to distant places, of exploring and celebrating all corners of the G.o.ddessas earth, Kyra was content to remain in her small world.

I went off to join my mother, who was getting an earful of unhappiness from Ian MacGreavy and his wife. Once we were out of earshot of the village, I told Ma of the failing health of Mearaas mother.

aI fear she is not long with us.a Ma shook her head. a aTis a pity the Christians donat accept the G.o.ddessas healing. I would like to help her.a A feeling of melancholy washed over me. aPoor Meara. Sheas already feeling the burden of so many ch.o.r.es to keep the children fed and clean.a aShe shall forge ahead,a Ma said stoutly.

I wondered if that had been Maas att.i.tude when my own father, Gowan MacEwan, had died. It made me sad that I barely remembered him, and whenever I asked about him, Ma went cold as the brook in winter. aDo you still miss Da?a I asked suddenly.

Ma sucked in a deep breath of crisp spring morning. aI will always love him. But atis not a fit subject to discourse upon, especially when we have pressing matters at hand. The MacGreavys are in a tumult.a aHas the miller asked about dark magick again?a I asked, recalling how he had recently suggested calling on a taibhs, a dark spirit, to wreak vengeance against a Burnhyde man who had crossed him.

aAs if we donat have enough trouble with the townspeople always on the lookout for witches,a Ma said as we tramped down the rutted road to our cottage. aThe tension among the Seven Clans is heating up again. Ian MacGreavy is outraged over a snub by a few men of the Burnhyde clan. Seems they wonat use his mill, and theyare telling all the others in their clan to avoid it, that itas cursed and the evil is spilling into the grain.a The unfairness of it irked me. aIf the mill is cursed, itas because of a spell from one of them.a aIndeed. Mrs. MacGreavy found a sprinkling of soil and ashes on the threshold of the mill one morning, swirled in a circle.a aA spell wrought of minerals and soil...a Everyone knew that the Burnhyde witches were masters of spells involving crystals and minerals. aA sure sign that the Burnhydes are behind all their trouble.a aAye, and trouble is rising for the MacGreavys. They fear the mill has been infested by rats.a She pressed her lips together, and I could see from the bluish vein in her forehead that Ma was angry. aItas dark magick the Burnhydes are playing with.a aI canat believe it,a I said, kicking at a dirt clod in the road. aThis isnat about Ian MacGreavyas mill at all. Itas about the other clans turning against the Wodebaynes again.a For as long as the Seven Great Clans had existed, there had been strong rivalry among them. Everyone knew of the clans and their distinctions: the healing Braytindales, the master spellcrafters of the Wyndonkylles, the Burnhydes with their expertise in the use of crystals and metals. I had heard of the astute Ruanwandes, who were well schooled in all of the ways of the G.o.ddess, though I had never met anyone from that clan. We knew of trickster Leapvaughns in neighboring villages, and everyone dreaded the war-loving Vykrothes, who were rumored to kick dirt in your face while pa.s.sing you on the road. Aye, the clans had their reputations, the most slanderous being that of our own clan. For decades the other six clans had looked down upon our Wodebayne clan, their prejudice and hatred stinging like a wound that refused to heal.

Their hatred was prompted by a notion that Wodebaynes practiced dark magick. When a witch tried to harness the G.o.ddessas power for evil purposesa"to harm a living thing or to tamper with a personas free willa"it was called dark magick. Other clans seemed to think that we Wodebaynes were expert at this black evil. They liked to blame their hards.h.i.+ps on our adark spells,a and consequently they had grown to hate all Wodebaynes.

And now, as a result of that hatred, our own village mill was to be overrun by rats. aCan we help the MacGreavys to thwart the spell?a Ma nodded. aThe Burnhyde spell doesnat scare me, but their hatred of the Wodebaynes frightens me deep down in my bones.a Her worry spurred my anger. aYet again weare back to the same hatred of the Wodebaynes. What did we do to bring on such animosity? Can you tell me that?a aEasy, Rose.a aThey act as if we were marauders and murderers! Itas unfair!a aAye, it is,a Ma said quietly. aBut I have always said that the other clans will come to know us through our acts of goodness. The G.o.ddess will reveal the true nature of the Wodebaynes in time.a aThat doesnat help Ian MacGreavy, does it?a I asked.

aWe will place a spell of protection around the mill,a Ma said. aWeall do it tomorrow, on the full moon, the perfect time to cast a spell of protection. Youall need to collect sharp objectsa"old spearheads, broken darning needlesa"whatever you can find. They are to be stored in a jar, which weall take to the mill.a As Ma went over the details of the spell of protection, I felt myself drifting off into an ocean of sorrow. My pitifully small world was growing smaller. With conflict among the clans heating up, we would be forced to become even more closed and guarded than we already were. Members of our coven would stick close to our hopelessly small country village, a tight knot of cottages that was already like a noose around my neck. Beyond my sweet but unadventurous friend Kyra, I was without a friend or possible mate within my own clan. No one outside the Wodebayne clan could be trusted, and any notions Iad ever had of exploration were squashed by the sure and steady evil lurking in new places.

Seventeen years of age, and already my life seemed to be over.

By now we had pa.s.sed out of the village, which consisted mostly of the church, the mill, the inn, and a tangle of cottages that were built far too close to keep your business private. We came upon a flat, gra.s.sy field that was used by one of our own Wodebayne clansmen for herding his sheep, and indeed, two men were there at the edge of the field, talking to a sheep as if it had the sense in its head to understand and heed them.

The scene made me smile. The two men looked like b.u.mblers, but Ma sucked in her breath, as if shead just come upon a tragedy.

aWhat is it, Ma?a I asked.

She stopped walking, her hands crossed over her chest as she stared at the men, still not speaking.

aAye, they could be punished,a I observed. aOut on a Sunday, when work is to be set aside to praise the Christian Lord.a aIf only they would meet with punishment,a Ma said. aFor thievery.a aWhat?a I ran ahead, then turned back to her to ask, aWho are they, Ma?a aVykrothe men,a she said, reaching for my arm and holding it tightly.

Now that she said it, I could feel it. A blood witch can always sense other blood witches, and their presence was now palpable as a bracing cold wind. aWait...a I said. aAnd now the Vykrothe men are stealing our Wodebayne sheep?a A sheep that would provide wool for spinning blankets and cloaks. A sheep whose slaughter would provide mutton to an entire family through many seasons. I tried to pull away from her. aWe must stop them!a She pulled me off the side of the road, behind the cover of a haystack. aHush, child. Speak not your mind on thisa"the danger is too grave. We know not how strong their magick is, and they look much stronger than us physically.a aButa"a aIall try to stop them.a She lifted one hand, drawing a long circle around her body and then around mine. I couldnat hear the words she murmured, but I realized she was putting a cloaking spell upon us so that the Vykrothe men would not know we were blood witches.

Then Ma clasped her fingers through mine, locking me into place by her side as we stepped out of the shadow of the haystack and pressed ahead. I felt her fear, though I wasnat sure if she was frightened of the men or of my own desire to blast them. I pressed my lips together, determined to defer to my strong, n.o.ble mother on this.

aGood day to you, sirs,a my mother called out to them.

They lifted their heads, mired in suspicion. aGood day,a the taller man answered. His hooded eyes seemed sleepy, and he wore his flaxen hair pressed to his skull like a helmet.

aDid the sheep break loose?a Ma asked lightly. aThey so often do, and I recognize that one as belonging to Thomas Draloose, who lives in the cottage just beyond the spring. Iall tell him of your act of kindness, returning his lost sheep to its pasture on this fine Sunday.a Act of kindness?I pressed Maas arm, irked by the way she was coddling these tubs of lard.

But Ma went on. aItas n.o.ble of you, gentle sirs, taking the time, anda"a aThis sheep is not returning to pasture, but departing,a the tall Vykrothe said. a aTis an evil beast, a harbinger of dark spirits. I know for true that this sheepherder you speak of is not a Christian man but a pract.i.tioner of witchcraft.a aYou must be mistaken, sir!a Ma cried out.

aaTis not a mistake at all,a the shorter man insisted. He was a bull of a man, with so much flesh on his large bones, he could easily ram through a castle door. aThis man is evil, a ghastly witch.a He fixed his eyes on us menacingly. aDo you know him well?a aAye, I do,a Ma answered boldly, aand I must proclaim his innocence of such unG.o.dly pursuits.a The taller Vykrothe yanked on the rope. aProclaim what you will. We must remove this sheep before it turns into a demon.a Ma shook her head and gave a fake laugh. aA mere sheep, sir? It is but an animal. One of the Lordas creatures, is it not?a I gave Maas hand a squeeze. The man could hardly argue with Christian philosophy.

The tall Vykrothe leaned closer, and his unpleasant smell of sweat, dung, and sour cheese rankled the air. aThis sheep is possessed. I have seen it bleat at the moon, its eyes red with Satanas fires.a aAye,a Ma countered, aand what reason have you to be lurking in a strangeras fields at night?a The tall man leaned back, but the bull answered, aAnd Iave heard rumor that the herder is planning to spill its blood in a dreadful spell of harm and destruction.a He turned to his friend, dropped his voice to a whisper, and added, aJust like those Wodebaynes.a I felt my fists clenching at the muttered slander. He had thought we would not hear or understand his strike against our clan and likely didnat care that we did since he thought us to be Christian women. But I had heard, and my blood boiled at the insult. These men werenat even common sheep thievesa"they were bigots, striking out against one of our own.

aThis, sir, I must dispute,a my mother said. She sounded so sincere, so earnest. How could these men refuse to believe her? aDo you imply that all Wodebaynes are evil?a When Ma spoke the word, the bullish man took two steps back. aWhat Christian woman knows so much of evil?a the man accused.

aHow dare you speak to her that way!a I shouted. My fingers twitched with the urge to shoot dealan-d at him and burn him with its flinty blue sparks. But Ma was already pulling me down the road, her other arm having slid protectively around my waist.

aMake haste,a she whispered in my ear, alest they raise their ire toward us. The Vykrothes are known to love war, and raise arms they will.a aBut the sheep...a I gasped. aTheyare stealing it. and even talking of witchcraft could get Thomas Draloose and his family hanged.a aHush, child.a Ma hurried me along, pressing her head down against mine. aWe must choose our battles. I did my best to defend Thomas and save the sheep, but we cannot always win against such cruelty.a aItas unfair,a I said, feeling tears sting my eyes. aWhy do they hate the Wodebaynes so?a aI cannot say, child,a Ma whispered. aI cannot say.a