"Changeling" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tiernan Cate)4. DangerTo 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?" "Yes." I nodded. "Does he know you're his sister?" "I don't think so. By the time I found out, he had disappeared. I haven't seen him since then." "We're speculating that he was supposed to take part in Amyranth's ritual," Eoife explained. "Ciaran would like one, any one, of his children to be a worthy successor. If that was Killian's test but he left town instead, Ciaran would be furious with him." "He didn't strike me as a coven leader," I said. "He seemed more like just a party guy to me." "Killian isn't power hungry like Ciaran," Eoife said. "But he does seem to be amoral—he does what he wants but for the pleasure of it, not to gain anything. I'm thinking—maybe the way to get to Ciaran is through Killian. We could get Killian to come here somehow. He'd come out of curiosity, if nothing else. Once Killian is here, explain your relationship to him. Then ask him to have Ciaran come here so you can get to know him better, as his daughter." A chill went down my spine, despite the cheerful warmth of the fire. It was horrible—the name Ciaran brought so much conflicting images and feelings: the understanding, compelling man at the bookstore and then terrifying, powerful Woodbane witch who had wanted to take my magick by force. He terrified me in a way that nothing else did, and… he was my father. I wanted to know him. And how would I hold out for one second against his power if he really wanted me to join him in Amyranth? I would have no chance. "You have until Imbolic," she said, interrupting my thoughts. Imbolic was February 2. Less than two weeks. Two weeks from now, what would I be? Alive? Dead? Evil? I felt like throwing up. "A few more things," Eoife said, sounding business like. She poured herself more hot water from the teapot and once again steeped the tea leaves. Their smooth, complex, smoky fragrance rose through the air. "One, you'll be functioning as a council agent and as such will check in with your council mentor, who is me. We can set up a contact schedule. If I'm not available, Hunter will take your reports." Great, I thought, already feeling the pain that seeing him would bring. Somehow I didn't think that Eoife would care that we were broken up. "Second, we'll be teaching you the spells you need to help you through this. It goes without saying that learning them is imperative." No kidding, I thought. Crap. What had I gotten myself into? Her face softened, and I wondered again if she was in tune with my thoughts. "This could be worse than what happened in New York, but I wouldn't ask you to do it if I thought the mission was hopeless. I—and the rest of the council—truly feel that you can do this." I digested this. "Okay. So now I call Killian?" "Do you have is phone number?" She looked surprised. "No," I said confused. "I thought you meant, you know, a witch message." Her face was carefully blank. "You can send messages? With your mind?" Why didn't I just get "Zoo Exhibit" tattooed on my forehead? "Uh-huh." Eoife swallowed. "I thought Hunter was exaggerating," she said quietly. "An uninitiated witch—kindling fire. Sending witch messages. Calling on the ancient lines of power. Even putting a holding spell on Hunter. I couldn't believe it was true, though Hunter was never inaccurate before. I came here expecting to leave in disappointment. Expecting to go back to the council and tell them we had no hope." "Then why did you even go through with this?" I asked. "Telling me you'd teach me the spells, that you'd help me. That I was your only hope. Why do it if you really thought I wouldn't be able to help you?" "I was doing as I was instructed," she replied with dignity. "Believe me, I far prefer this reality to what I was afraid I would find. Now I think it's time to call Killian." "Okay," I said. Killian, I thought, sending it toward him. Killian. Come to Widow's Vale. For long minutes we sat silently. I wondered how far away Killian was and if that made any difference. But then I felt his response. I took a minute to breath and orient myself. When I stood, I felt creaky, like I'd been there for hours. "Okay," I told Eoife. "I think he's going to come." "Very good," said Eoife. "Morgan, I'm going to teach you the watch sigil in case things start to move quickly and you have the opportunity to mark Ciaran before we meet again." I nodded and watched Eoife carefully as she drew the sigil in the air. "The symbol itself isn't complicated," she continued. "What will be difficult is getting close enough to Ciaran to place it on him without his detection. Practice the sigil so that you'll be ready when the opportunity presents itself." Slowly I began to mirror Eoife's motions in the air. "All right," I said finally. "I think I've got it. I'll keep practicing when you leave." Eoife nodded. "Excellent." She reached for her briefcase and stood, glancing around to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. "I'm glad to have met you, Morgan Riordan," she said formally, holding out her hand to shake. "Rowlands," I said frowning. "That's my last name." Her eyebrows drew together. "Oh, of course. I'm going to report back to the council about the nature of our plan and that you've sent Killian a message. I'll check in with you soon to set up a time for you to start learning spells." "Okay." I walked her to the front door, feeling a deep sense of foreboding. After what happened in New York, I had hoped to lie low for a while, to have everything to be calm and quiet. Now I was signed up to enter the lion's den. And I might not make it out alive. "You know you're more then welcome to come stay," said Aunt Eileen an hour later. I had called her to check in, though my parents hadn't even gone a whole day yet. I had needed some normalcy after the surreal visit with Eoife MacNabb. "Oh, no, I'll be fine," I said. "I'm just going to school, do homework, eat and sleep." Oh, and try to trap one of the world's most dangerous Woodbanes. That, too. "Okay," she said. "But promise you'll call us anytime, day or night, if you need anything or want to talk or feel worries. All right?" "Okeydokey," I said, trying to sound cheerful. As soon as I hung up, I felt my senses starting to tingle. I opened the front door and saw Hunter at the end of our dark walkway, heading for the house. He looked up, saw me, and didn't smile. Just seeing him made me want to cry. This was the one person who could comfort me, who would understand, who would be on my side. Yet I couldn't be with him, couldn't turn to him for support or love. I knew that it was better to hurt him now than crush him later—what if I turned in him down the road? After seeing what Ciaran had been willing to do to me, I could only imagine the pain I could cause Hunter if and when my evil Woodbane nature showed itself. As painful as this separation was, surely it was better than the pain of knowing I had attacked him from the darkness. Typically, he didn't say hello. He just leaned against the house while I rubbed my shoulders to keep warm. It was another bitter night. He waited until I met his eyes, then launched in. “I can’t believe you’ve decided to go along with this ridiculous plan, far-fetched plan!” he began, his English accent more pronounced then usual. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it’s going to be? Do you have any idea what you’re up against? This isn’t one of our circles! This is life or death!” “I know,” I said quietly. “I was there in New York, remember?” “Exactly! So how can you even consider going along with this? It’s I just looked at him. In the dim yellow glare of the front porch light he looked gorgeous, as usual, and angry, which also seemed fairly common these days. But I had also seen him laughing, his head thrown back; I had seen his face flushed with desire; I had seen the look in his eyes before he kissed me. My chest felt fluttery as I thought about it, and I rubbed my arms again, grateful for the distraction of the cold. “Have you heard anything more about your parents?” I asked. In New York, Hunter had made the decision to begin looking for them. I knew that the loss of his mother and father was a huge event in his life, and it hurt me to see him unable to find them. Hunter’s angry expression softened lightly. He looked away. “No,” he said. “Nothing. You’re changing the subject. I don’t want to talk about it.” He looked me in the eye briefly. “These last few days haven’t been a lark for me, either, Morgan.” I nodded, unable to speak. God, I hated not being in his life like I had been. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him it would be okay, but now I was the person who was causing part of the pain. “It’s cold,” he said unnecessarily. “Why are we out here? Let’s go in.” He moved toward the door, but I held up my hand. “No.” I said. “Why?” His perfect brows arched over eyes as green as sea glass. All I wanted was for him to hold me and comfort me and tell me everything was going to be all right. “Remember, I told you about my folks going on a cruise? They left today.” “Where’s Mary K.?” “Jaycee’s.” His face took a speculative expression, and I braced myself. “You’re saying you are alone in the house,” he said. “Yes.” “That cruise was for… eleven days?” “Yes.” I sighed. “So you’re alone in the house. All by yourself.” “Yes.” I couldn’t look at him—his voice was softened, and the anger was gone. Oh, Goddess, he was so attractive to me. Everything in me responded to him. “So let’s go in.” He sounded much calmer then when he had arrived. I almost whimpered from wanting him. If he came in the house, if we were alone together, how could I keep my hands off him? How could I stop him from putting his hands on me? I wouldn’t want to. And what would that do? Making out wouldn’t change anything: not my heritage, not my fears, not the possibility that I was going to end up more Ciaran’s daughter than Maeve’s. “No, that’s not a good idea.” “Got some other guy in there, have you?” His tone was light, but I felt tension coming off him like heat. “No,” I said, looking at my feet. “Look, I just don’t want to be alone with you, okay?” “Then how about my house? We wouldn’t be alone there.” Hunter lived with his cousin, Sky Eventide. I gave him my long-suffering look. “I don’t think so. We broke up, remember?” “We should talk about that,” he said, frowning. “Speaking of bad idea’s.” Tell me about it, I thought. I wanted to be with Hunter more than anything. But I knew—and I had to make myself remember—how terrible it would be to hurt him later. I shook my head to clear it, trying to get back to the subject at hand. “We should Hunter frowned as he seemed to remember why he had come. “I’m not trying to control your decision,” he said. “I’m trying to help you not make irresponsible ones.” “You think I’m irresponsible?” “You know I don’t. I think you made this decision without having all the facts. Like about exactly how dangerous Ciaran and Amyranth can be. How many deaths they’re responsible for. How much power and knowledge they have at their disposal. Pitted against you, a seventeen-year-old uninitiated witch who’s been studying Wicca for a grand total of three months.” I knew all that, but hearing him state it so baldly made me cringe. “Yes, I know,” I said. “I still think I need to try.” I need to know if I’m good or bad, I added to myself. I need to know who my father is, what my heritage is. I need to know that I “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, his voice sounding frayed. “It’s not your job to save the world.” “I’m not trying to save the world,” I said. “Just my little part of it. I mean, today it’s Starlocket—and Alyce, remember? Tomorrow it’s us. Don’t you see that?” Hunter looked around, thinking, deciding on another plan of approach. He was well acquainted with how stubborn I could be, and I could see him weighing his chances of getting through and changing my mind. He pushed himself off the house and stood before me. “Tell me the instant you hear from Killian,” he said. I tried not to show my surprise. “Okay.” “I don’t like this.” “I know.” “I hate this.” “I know.” “Right. So call me.” “I will.” After he left, I went back inside, shivering with cold. I sat down in front of the fire and rested my head against the couch. I would have given a lot to have Hunter with me right then. I sighed, wondering if love was always this hard. |
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