Changeling

"What about you?" I asked. "I'm Ciaran's daughter after all. Do you believe I'd want to get closer to him? Do you believe I might actually turn to the darkness?"

The older witch gazed at me steadily. "It's true that great witches have fallen before this. But many have resisted, too, Morgan."

But which will it be? I thought desperately. "Oh, God," I said, standing up and lifting my hair off my neck. I walked around the living room, stretching, not really seeing anything. I realized it was chilly and knelt before the fireplace to make a small tepee of kindling. I looked around for matches, but I didn't see any. I thought, Fire, and a tiny spark of flame leapt into existence, catching the dry sticks of fatwood, chewing them eagerly. When the kindling was well on its way, I added two small logs, then stood up and brushed off my hands.

"I didn't believe them when they said you could kindle fire," Eoife said. Once again her gaze fixed on me, measuring me, examining me.

I shrugged self-consciously. "I like fire."

"One of my teachers studied with her teacher for more than three years to learn how to kindle fire," said Eoife.

Startled, I glanced at her. "How can you even teach it? It's just there."

"No, my dear," she said, softening for the first time since she'd come in. "It isn't. Not usually."

I sat down again and twisted my fingers together. Get close to Ciaran. The idea made my stomach clench. He was my blood father, and he was the epitome of evil, guilty of hundreds of horrible crimes: unaccountable devastation. He was the very image of everything bad that Woodbanes had ever been accused of. He had killed my mother and tried to kill me. Yet…Yet, before I had known who he was, I had felt a strange connection to him, a sort of bond or kinship. I could tell he was very powerful, and I wanted him to teach me what he knew. Then so many things had happened, and I was still sorting out the pieces. Now Eoife wanted me to pretend to have a relationship with him on order to give me the council information. Information that would lead to his being stripped of his powers, certainly. I'd watched Hunter perform the spells that wrested a witch's magick from him, and I still shuddered at the memory. I had heard that most witches who had their magick taken away never really recovered. They lived a kind of half life—more a pale grey existence than a real life. Eoife and the council wanted to do that to Ciaran, and they wanted me to help them.

"I won't lie to you," Eoife said. "This will be very hard, perhaps impossible, and very dangerous. You'll be tempted by darkness, as we all are at times. How well you resist is up to you. You probably know what's likely to happen to you if you are found out, if you fail." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "But if you succeed—you will have saved not only Starlocket, but all the covens and clans after them, the ones who will in the future be targeted for a dark wave. And… you would have more power."

I looked at Eoife. "Magickal power?"

"Perhaps, though that isn't what I meant. I meant the power that comes from doing something profoundly good and selfless, the power that comes from putting good out into the world. Remember, what you send out is thrice returned."

"Does Hunter know about this? What you're asking?"

"Yes, he's against it. But the decisions is yours."

"What makes you so sure Ciaran will trust me?" I asked.

"We're not," Eoife admitted. "But you're our only hope."

I paced the room. I noticed it was dark outside—hours had passed since Eoife had come. My parents might be boarding their cruise ship by now.

What if I failed? Not only would Alyce and the rest of Starlocket die, but I would be forever corrupted. If I wasn't strong enough to resist Ciaran, I would become as evil as he was. On the other hand, where was I now? I had lost Hunter, I was afraid to make magick with my coven…What did I have left to lose? How strong was I? Think, think.

Eoife waited patiently, just as her teacher who was trying to kindle fire must have waited patiently for three years, trying to learn it. I wasn't patient. I didn't have their inner calm that most witches had, the inner compass that allowed them to stay on track, stay focused yet completely connected with the world. I didn't know if I would ever have it.

Could I do it?

Oh, Goddess, help me.

I don't know how much time passed. Finally I turned to look at Eoife, so small and still, like a garden statue.

"I'll do it," I said.

4. Danger

Brother Colin, my hand shakes as I write this. I have told all to Father Benedict, and he is praying on the matter now. Tonight after matins I found I could not sleep and determined to walk in the chill air along the cliffs in the hopes that healthy exercise would help me rest.

I set out at a brisk pace, giving thanks for my sturdy wool cloak. After a time I spied the glow of a cheerful fire. Thinking it was a lone shepherd, I hastened to join him and share in the warmth before heading back to the abbey. Coming quite close, I saw this was no lone shepherd, but a group of people. Women from Barra Head, each soul bare to the sky. danced in pagan nudity around the fire, wailing some unearthly song.

Horror overwhelmed me, and after but a few moments I dashed away from the evil place. I immediately found Father Benedict and confessed what I had seen. What do you make of this, Brother Colin? I had assumed that Wodebayne was simply a clan name, but now I wonder if they are some darker, heathen sect. Please send me your earliest council, for I am most distraught.

—Brother Sinestus Tor, March 1768.

To my surprise, Eoife McNabb didn't jump up and down in joy at my announcement. She looked very solemn and then nodded slowly. "I was hoping you would say that."

I released a deep breath and tried to relax. "So what now?"

"Well, you'll need to go to New York at once," she said.

"What? I can't." I shook my head. "My folks are out of town, and I have to house-sit and go to school everyday, or they'll kill me."

Eoife blinked once, and we looked at each other. Realizing the ridiculousness of my situation, I began to laugh nervously. After a moment of surprise, Eoife smiled.

"All right," she said, shrugging. "I know that you're unusually young to have so much power. But remember, we're talking about the destruction of countless innocent witches. There has to be a way for you to help us and still keep your grades up and feed your cat."

As if he'd been called, Dagda prowled into the room and fixed his green eyes on Eoife. He walked toward her, sniffed her delicately, then presented his triangular head for petting.

"You're a beauty," Eoife muttered while he purred. Finally he purred so hard, he fell over in his side, and she tickled his grey tummy.

"You must stay in Widow's Vale," she said, thinking out loud.

"Yeah."

"Right. Let's see. You met your half brother Killian in New York, yes?"