"Ealltuinn has found a way," Morgan said. "Now we have to stop it." She turned to Hunter. "Do you remember any of your dad's simplified spell?"
Hunter looked at the ceiling, concentrating hard. Silent words came to his lips.
Outside, the wind kicked up, blowing a small branch against a window. The light coming in had a sickly greenish tinge to it, like the light before a tornado.
"No!" he said finally, his fists clenched in frustration.
Morgan's face fell.
Oh, Goddess, Moira thought. What now? We need a plan. There must be some way to fight this!
"It's still in there," Sky said to him, gripping the back of a chair. "She didn't wipe your mind, just bound your magick."
The other coven members stood around, listening. Some smaller groups were discussing ways to act, but no one seemed to be coming up with much.
"I don't know what she did," Hunter said, his cracked lips tight with tension. "I just know I can't remember a lot. I don't have any power."
Moira could hear his frustration and could hardly imagine what he must be feeling. Would she ever get to know him, even close to as well as she'd known Colm? Would she ever see him healed and happy? Or would this, today, be her only memory of him? Her heart ached at the thought.
"Dammit!" Morgan said suddenly, smacking her hand on the table. "She can't win, not now! We have to stop this."
Katrina and some others nodded, but they all looked uncertain and afraid.
"Can we all just join together and use the strongest protection spells we know?" Christa Ryan asked, rubbing her temples.
"A dark wave isn't just fought," Morgan explained. "It has to be dismantled."
We have to stop it, Moira thought desperately. We're all going to die-none of the past two days will have meant anything. Iona's defeat will mean nothing. The four of us together defeated her-surely we can defeat this now. That was when it came to Moira: The four of us together
"Mum?" said Moira, swallowing down her nausea. "I have an idea. I think Sky's right-that Hunter still has the spell locked up inside his brain. He just can't remember it. You could do a tath meanma with Hunter, getting the spell from deep inside, where he doesn't remember."
"I thought about that," Morgan said. "But" She paused, looking at Hunter. "I don't know how well he could stand it right now," she finished softly.
Hunter's eyes hardened. "I can stand it," he said, clearly using every ounce of strength left in him to make the words sound firm and believable.
Moira glanced down at the floor, overcome by the power of his feelings for Morgan, how much he would do for her. And for Moira, too. She could feel concern for herself in him as well, even though he'd only just learned she was his daughter.
"Still, I'm not in great shape myself," Morgan said, "Iona drained so much power from me."
"I know," Moira said. "Get the simplified spell from Hunter, then send it to me. I'm not initiated yet, but I have power. You said it yourself-how strong I am. And Sky can help, joining her power with mine."
"No," Morgan said flatly.
"Mum, it's the only way," Moira said urgently, leaning forward. "None of us, no one in this room, has what it takes to do this alone. You and Hunter at least have some experience with a dark wave. You know both me and Sky, you know how to work with us. We have to do it. And what happens if we don't try anything? Are we all just going to sit here and die? After everything?" Moira met her mother's eyes, pleading with her.
"Moira may be right," Sky said reluctantly. "We have maybe an hour before the dark wave gets here. One person working the spell alone might not make it, even with the shortened version. If both of us are working simultaneously" She looked up. "We just might pull it off."
"We've no other good plans anyway," said Hunter. "None of us are thinking clearly-we've all been through too much. We can either stay here and die, or we can go fight it."
"I hate all of these options," said Morgan, looking from face to face.
"We all do," said Sky. "But there is one problem. We need more than one witch to work the spell, and my powers are still quite weak. I don't know if I"
"Please let me help," Ian said. His face was solemn and grim. "For years I've not asked questions about my mother's work-even though deep down I always felt something wasn't right. I've gone on and done my own thing and tried not to see what she was doing, she and the new members she recruited to Ealltuinn. But now I see what a coward I've been." His voice dropped so that they had to lean in to hear him. "I need to help make this right if I can. Please let me help. I'm initiated, and I have a fair amount of power."
Moira knew-in every fiber of her being-that he was telling the truth. She'd been right about him all along. Maybe Lilith was like Selene Belltower, but Ian was not Cal. And she hadn't been a fool for trusting him after all. Even with all the danger they still faced, knowing that helped.
Morgan looked at Sky, who looked at Hunter and Moira. Moira waited anxiously, thinking, Please, please, please.
It was only after her mother hesitantly said, "All right. We have no choice," that Moira allowed herself to realize she would be going up against a dark wave. But there was no time to be afraid or to panic. If the dark wave killed her, she would go down fighting, trying to save her family, her coven, her town. Her mum had made the same decision, when she was barely seventeen. Moira was an ancestral Riordan. She was Moira of Belwicket, with her mother's strength, her grandmother's, her great-grandmother's. And Ciaran's strength also. He'd used his power for evil. Moira would use hers for good.
Nodding, she said, "Let's go."
They decided to meet the wave as it approached the village, on the high road by the headland and the cliffs. It was hard to walk fast, with how awful everyone felt, but they tried to hurry, going over the plan as they went. The twelve strongest members of the coven would station themselves in a circle of protection around Moira and Ian. They might not help, but they couldn't hurt, and everyone had agreed to stay together. The rest of the coven would be nearby, sending whatever power they could to Moira, Ian, Morgan, Sky, and Hunter.
"Moira," her mum said, easing closer to her. Her voice was low, confidential. "I have to tell you: dying by a dark wave is much worse than dying almost any other way. And by far the worst thing about it is that your soul then joins the collection, and you become one of the hungry, desperate for energy, for life. That's what we're facing today. I want you to understand just what you're going up against."
Moira tried to ignore the aching, hollow feeling in her chest. "I understand, Mum," she said, keeping her voice as strong as she could. "But as long as we're together, it will be all right. You and Hunter and me and you, all together."
Her mother's eyes grew bright with tears, but she just nodded and squeezed Moira's hand. "I love you," she said. "More than life itself."
"I know," Moira said. "Me too."
"Looks like here," Sky said, a few feet in front of them. They slowed, and Sky looked up at the clouds, then down the road. The air itself felt foul, a mixture of oily fumes, smoke, depression, illness. On the farthest horizon Moira could just barely make out an eggplant-colored line.
Her heart sank down into the pit of her stomach. "Is that it?" she asked faintly.
"Yes," Hunter said grimly. Moira met Ians eyes, which were solemn and wide. He gave her a quick nod.
"Yes, I think you're right," Morgan said, sounding tired down to her bones. Moira saw her watching Hunter, as if to make sure that he was miraculously still alive. Desperately Moira hoped they would have more time together. They deserved it Moira was sad for Colm, sad that he hadn't been her mum's muirn beatha dan, and still devastated that he hadn't been her own biological father. But it didn't change the fact that Hunter was both of those things-and Morgan and Moira deserved the chance to be with him. To know him, even, in Moira's case.
"Right, then," said Sky. She sounded tired also, cranky, but she seemed in better shape than Morgan. "Looks like it's going to sweep right on through here. I think Moira and Ian should be in the middle of the road. We three should be over there, maybe. There's a copse of shale-it looks like there's a crevice in it. It won't save us, should it make it here, but it'll shelter us from the worst effects before it does." She looked up at the small crowd of anxious but grimly determined coven members.
"Twelve of you, take your posts," Sky said. Katrina, her sister, Susan Best Keady Dove, Christa Ryan, and Sebastian Cleary broke away from the group and began positioning themselves. They were followed by Hartwell Moss, Fillipa Gregg, and Michelle Moore, and then Brant Tucker and Brett and Lacey Hawkstone moved to the other side. Lastly, Will Fereston took his place.
"Good," said Sky, looking tense and pale. "Now, are we clear on what's going to happen? Morgan's going to get the spell from Hunter."
"We hope," Morgan muttered. "Yes, we hope," Sky said somberly. "Morgan will pass it on to me and to Moira. I will pass it on to Ian, then join my power with Moira's. Moira, you're going to work on the first and third parts of the spell. Ian will work on the second part, which is long. At the right moment Moira will ignite it. Got that?"
Moira cleared her throat. "Yes. Got it." Inside she was quaking with fear and a kind of bleak, private admission that this might all very well be for nothing. Her head was pounding, she felt queasy and shaky. But she wasn't going to show it.
Ian nodded, his jaw tight.
"We'd better move," Hunter said, his voice sounding like rocks scraping metal.
Moira forced a smile at her mum, who was slowly walking backward away from her with a desperate look on her face. Her mum looked stricken, as if she would give anything not to leave Moira right now. And every part of Moira longed to reach out and grab her, to hold on and never let go. She was terrified to face the dark wave without her mum at her side. Her mum, who she understood would do anything to protect her. But now it was her turn to protect her mum.
"Go on," Moira urged softly, working to keep her turbulent emotions cloaked. Her mum nodded stiffly. Then Morgan, Hunter, and Sky disappeared below the shallow copse. Now Moira had to wait till Morgan contacted her with the spell.
"I'm sorry," Ian muttered, looking down. He looked as bad as Moira felt.
"It isn't your fault," Moira said. "I'm sorry about the other night."
Ian nodded. "That was awful. But it wasn't your fault." Then he reached out and took her hand. Both their hands were cold, trembling, but Moira seized his as if it were her lifeline. She wouldn't have to go through this alone.
The sky to the east was sickly green, tinged with purple. There was a foul stench in the air. Anxiously squawking birds of all types were flying past as fast as they could, escaping in the way that wild animals have of knowing.
It was very near.
Moira. Mum was ready. Moira quickly closed her eyes, trying to blank her mind for the tath meanma with her mother. It would be extremely difficult, since they wouldn't be able to touch. She had to have absolute concentration. Then her mother's consciousness was there, pressing on her brain, and Moira immediately opened her mind to let her in. Surprisingly it hurt, and Moira winced and tensed up at the pain of it. I forgot to warn you this would hurt We didn't have time to prepare properly with fasting, meditating, and so on.
It's okay, Moira sent back, gritting her teeth. Then, with Morgan guiding her, Moira opened her eyes and created a circle with purified salt around her and Ian. She put out Morgan's four silver cups, carved with ancient Celtic symbols and representing the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water.
On this day, at this hour, I invoke the Goddess, Morgan told her, and Moira repeated the words. "You who are pure in intent, aid me in this spell."
And on it went, the first part of the spell. It had been greatly simplified, but Moira still needed to define it, clarify her intentions, and identify all the players and parts.
Next to her Moira heard Ian start to speak as he received his part of the spell from Sky. He moved in a care- fully crafted pattern that would define the spell's limitations: exactly where, when, why, and for how long the spell would ignite. The things it would affect, the things it wouldn't. Looking tense and frightened, he knelt and drew sigils on the ground and in the air. Finally Moira finished the first part, and she waited anxiously for Ian to finish the second part before her mum would coach her through the third.
Okay, now Ians done, Morgan sent, and Moira nodded. This third part is the actual spell.
Slowly and carefully her mum fed Moira the words to say, the words that defined for all time exactly what this spell would do. Moira needed to move at certain times, to trace runes in the air or on the ground, to rub salt on her hands, to spill water on the ground. She started feeling really terrible about halfway through, when the throbbing pain of the tath meanma, her rising nausea, and the abhorrent stench in the air all combined to make her sway on her feet. What next? she thought, forcing herself to concentrate. Her mother repeated what she was supposed to do, and, almost in tears, Moira began it. Then her head started spinning and Moira seemed to lose all her peripheral vision. An acrid taste rose in the back of her throat and her stomach heaved. Clapping her hand to her mouth, she fought it down, then fell to her hands and knees in the mud of the road.
Moira! Mum sent urgently. Moira, get up! You have to get up! Get up NOW! Panting slightly, Moira raised her head and blinked. She was shaking, every muscle trembling uncontrollably. Oh, no, she thought in despair. They're all going to die because of me. It was too much, this responsibility. What had she been thinking, promising everyone that she could do this? She had been too bold, too arrogant-and everyone she loved would pay the price. She took in another shallow breath.
Around her the twelve coven members were watching her with desperate expressions. She met Katrina's eyes, saw the fear and horror in them, the love and regret. Her gran's lips were moving silently; all this time the coven members had been chanting protection spells, ward-evil spells, spells to try to limit the sickness Moira and Ian felt.