Disclaimer: R&R ... yada, yada, yada ... you guys know what to do :) P.S.
When Morgan is reminded of her paternal grandmother, it refers to Sean
Rowlands' mother, not whoever is Ciaran's mother. Just wanted to
clarify unless that confuses people.
Summary: Tensions rise between Hunter and Sky and their
guardians/parents as time rapidly runs out for the members of Shelagh
and Beck's coven.
PART III: Gathering
MORGAN'S P.O.V
"We are NOT having this conversation, Uncle Beck!"
"Yes, we damn well are!"
In case you couldn't tell from the yelling, Robbie, Raven, Sky, and I were all sitting in Beck and Shelagh's kitchen, listening to Hunter and Uncle Beck having a major row. By major, I mean apocalypse-y and practically measurable on the Richter scale.
"No! I will not stand here and listen to you talking as if you're going to die in two days!"
"I might! My entire coven may perish, and that's why we need you to keep a cool head about this!"
"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KEEP A COOL HEAD WHEN I'VE JUST BEEN TOLD THAT MY AUNT AND UNCLE, NOT TO MENTION AN ENTIRE COVEN OF PEOPLE, ARE ABOUT TO –"
"What is all of the yelling in here?"
Aunt Shelagh and Bree chose that moment to make their reentrance after spending about half an hour admiring their own wardrobes. While I may be of the same gender, I will never understand some of Bree's reasoning.
Shelagh looked livid and turned her glare on Uncle Beck. "They're here for less than an hour and I already find you telling them information about our coven? I don't even know half of these people's names!"
"Robbie," Robbie offered, holding up a hand nervously.
"Raven."
"Morgan."
"See?" Uncle Beck asked genially. "Now no one here's a stranger."
"Beck –"
"Shelagh, they're trying to help! Can't you see that?"
"Are you suggesting that I'm being defiant?"
"Ma! Da!" It was Sky's turn to raise her voice as she quickly stood up from the table, her face red with anger. "God, why are you two fighting like this? I can't believe that you're being so stubborn about this, Ma! Admittedly, we brought a few more people along than we had originally planned, but –"
"Athar, this is not the time or the place to be discussing this."
"Anything that you can say to Hunter or I you can say to them!" She motioned the rest of us.
I could see something changing in Aunt Shelagh from the moment that Sky said that. Maybe Sky realized it, too, because she suddenly fell completely silent.
"If that is what you want, then I will." Shelagh took a small breath, her face furious and her eyes narrowed to hardly more than slits. "I wish you had listened to me in the first place, Athar, when I told you to go to Dublin."
"That was my –" Sky started to say.
"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, ATHAR!" Aunt Shelagh screamed in fury. She turned her fuming stare to Hunter, who all but cowered from the sight. "I wish that you had listened to me when I told you not to join the council, Giomanach! You two have both embarrassed me FAR more than either your sisters or Alwyn did, and I suggest that, the moment that whoever is sending dark magick against our coven is discovered and stripped of his powers, you leave England." Her voice lowered about forty decibels. "Permanently."
With that, she turned on her heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the kitchen door behind her.
The tension in the room, if it were tangible, would probably have been about five feet thick. Hunter was staring in shell-shocked silence at the place where Aunt Shelagh had been standing about five seconds ago, as was Beck, who buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on the granite counter. Hunter slowly sank down into a chair around the small table; still stunned from what I had just witnessed, I took his hand in an I'm-trying-to- be-helpful-but-I-don't-really-know-what-to-say type of way; as Sky made an odd whimpering noise, Raven immediately was at her side and consoling her in whispers. Robbie and Bree were staring openly at all of us, their eyes wide with fear and worry as Uncle Beck finally lifted his face from his hands and gave a very forced smile.
"Well ... I daresay that none of you have ever witnessed something like that before." No one spoke or moved. Quickly casting out my senses, I discovered that Bree was actually holding her breath. Beck clapped his hands together softly.
"You'll never meet someone quite like Shelagh." He gave a feeble laugh. "Consider yourselves lucky ..." After a moment in which he looked down at the ground, he lifted his head again. "Dinner is in an hour. I'm making my world-famous rib roast with Portobello mushrooms, so don't be late."
"We should unpack," Hunter said quietly, motioning to me with his eyes. I gave a slight nod, unwilling to speak or make noise of any kind, and slowly got up from the table to follow him into the living room.
BREE'S P.O.V
"That was ... intense."
"I couldn't have phrased it better myself," Robbie said after a long moment as he hung two shirts on hangers in the wardrobe. "Hunter and Sky were crushed."
"Bigger than crushed."
"Demolished." I gave him an affectionate smile and tossed another shirt at him from out of his duffel bag (which was, unfortunately and very damaging to my fashion-sensitive eyes, bright yellow). As he hung it up and I neatly placed my last pair of pants into the drawer, we both sat down on the bed and leaned against each other.
"They should tell you about the time differences before you go overseas," Robbie said with a chuckle. "It's almost dark here and I feel like it's time to be getting up."
"Well ..." I grinned wickedly at him. "The fact that it'll be dark faster means that enjoyable activities involving the dark can come to pass sooner."
Robbie, bless his timid little heart, looked appalled. "Bree, we're in a house full of people!"
"There was sarcasm."
Robbie flushed bright red and looked away as I grinned at him; I had always loved teasing him, even before we got together in the romantic sense. After a moment, though, a horrifying thought occurred to me. "Robbie?"
"Yeah?"
"Promise me that if we ever get married, we won't end up like Shelagh and Beck."
"I definitely hope - We're getting married???"
"It was hypothetical."
"I knew that."
RAVEN'S P.O.V
"Are you okay?"
Of course she's not okay, you idiot. THAT was a smart thing to say.
"... Yeah. I'm fine." I looked at her sympathetically.
"Liar."
From where Sky has been standing at her dresser staring into the mirror, I saw her smile. I stood up from the bed with a sigh and looked into the mirror, standing next to her. She looked so tired.
"Are you going to be okay?"
"Eventually. It's just overwhelming. Being back here."
"Yeah ..." I wrapped my arms around her waist gently and rested my head on her shoulder. "Parents can be pains in the ass."
"You're telling me," she smiled. We didn't say anything for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence, before she spoke again. "I'm glad you're here."
I grinned playfully at her. "Of course I'm here. You think I'd let you go off to England by yourself for three months? You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"... That's good to know."
MORGAN'S P.O.V
"Well, that was painful," I said quietly as Hunter and I walked down the gravel path in front of 53 West Kingston Drive, remembering with frustration the affair that dinner that night had been. While Uncle Beck was and definitely deserved to be a master chef, even the incredible taste of his mushrooms and ribs couldn't take away from the utter silence of the table, the tension between all seated nearly touchable. Sky and Hunter had both spent the entire dinner concentrating on their plates only to say "Pass the salt" or "This is really good, Da", and Shelagh hadn't even said anything at all, only glancing, still angry, at Uncle Beck out of the corners of her eyes.
"Painful is an understatement," Hunter sighed, looking at the ground. "I wanted to bolt at least three times."
"Understandable."
He smiled at me and kissed my forehead affectionately, and I felt with a tingle the warm, gushy feeling always associated with Hunter kissage. It had nearly killed me to feel Hunter's pain regarding his guardians, who had acted as his parents for nearly all of his life, and the confusion he felt for them. It was time to forget what had happened earlier today, though, and start questioning members of the coven as to who or possibly what had been torturing them with dark magick.
Hunter rang the door ringer on the simple one-level brick cottage that, according to Uncle Beck, belonged to Maggie and Rupert Fisher, two members of Briongloid Radharc. The bright red door didn't budge for a moment before a large, friendly-faced woman with waist-length gray hair answered it.
"Mrs. Fisher?" Hunter asked politely.
"Yes?" she answered in a sweet voice that reminded me of my paternal grandmother.
"My name is Hunter Niall, and this is Morgan Rowlands," he said warmly, motioning to both himself and to me. "I'm with the council, and I'd like to ask you some questions about your coven."
The woman's friendly exterior instantly changed from kind and motherly to afraid and fearful as her eyes widened proportionally.
"I-I'm afraid I don't –"
"You are, of course, aware that dark magick has been attacking your coven by some unknown sender?"
"Of-Of course I am, but what do you want with me? I haven't been –"
"Mrs. Fisher, you are not under suspicion. Beck and Shelagh Eventide, my guardians, speak very highly of you," Hunter said quickly, and Maggie visibly relaxed. "I just need to ask you some questions about what sort of things have happened around here lately."
"Oh ... well ..." She sighed reluctantly after a moment. "Please come in."
As Maggie lead us through her foyer and into her living room, I noticed that it was furnished in much the same way as Shelagh and Beck's cottage was; a stone fireplace built into the wall of the living room was home to a crackling fire, and I could feel its warmth standing seven feet away. As I sat down next to Hunter on a plush velvet green couch and Maggie Fisher sat down across from us in a really ugly yellow chair that would have sent Bree into a fashion fit, I noticed the tenseness with which she kept glancing at the front door.
"What sorts of things have happened to you, personally, as a result of the dark magick?" Hunter asked her, and I recognized the change from my warm, cuddly Hunter to the council's interrogative, always-questioning Hunter with a sigh.
"Well, it's not been as bad as Shelagh and Beck," Maggie said, her British accent more pronounced than before in her nervousness. "I feel awful for them, poor dears, all of their beautiful flowers dead ... for the rest of us, it's been mostly little things. My car won't run, my electricity goes out sporadically and without probable cause ..."
"Can you think of anyone who might have a personal vendetta against your coven or want to hurt someone in it?" I asked in concern.
Maggie looked truly worried. "Hurt someone? I'd wager not. Our coven is made of none but pure hearts and gentle souls." Thinking of Aunt Shelagh, I barely managed to stifle a snort. "But ... I can't speak for everyone when I say that I have no enemies. I know everyone in the coven, and we're all wonderful friends, but this seems the sort of thing that I would expect someone with a secret would keep known to no one but themselves, am I correct?"
"Most likely," Hunter sighed, and I could tell that he was realizing that this could be harder than he had expected. Suddenly, though, he looked around him. "Is your husband home? Rupert Fisher?"
"Ah, no, he's not," Maggie said. "He's gone to the store for a few things, so I'm here alone at the moment. If you want to wait, he should be back shortly. I could –"
"No, that's all right," Hunter said, interrupting her. "I don't think that there's very much for me here. I may be stopping by again, though."
"Oh, please," Maggie said cordially. "I do not entertain very often, so it is nice to have guests on occasion."
As Hunter and I stepped back outside through the front door and began walking down the street away from the Fisher household, I noticed how my boyfriend kept glancing over his shoulder back at the brick home. I laced my hand through his and looked up at him.
"What's wrong? You look confused."
"I'm just ..." He sighed. "I got the feeling in there that she wasn't being completely truthful with us."
"Honestly? Me, too," I admitted. "Did you see how she kept looking towards the door all nervously? Do you think she was hiding something?" A thought suddenly struck me. "Maybe she's a mass murderer and she was worried about her accomplice bursting through the door with a brand new body while we were there!"
Hunter looked grossed out. "Morgan!"
I giggled slightly. "Sorry. All this detective stuff has gone to my head."
"I sensed a lot of barrier spells and concealment charms coming from all over the place, though," he said quietly, lowering his voice as if making sure that, should Maggie still be listening to us even though we were far away from her house now, she couldn't hear us. "That is the thing that made me the most suspicious."
"How can you sense concealment charms?" I asked in confusion. "Isn't their purpose to ... conceal?"
"Yes, but one can normally feel the essence of all magickal people coming from a home." Seeing my perplexed look, he launched into explanation mode (during which he looks, unbelievably, even hotter). "I sensed a lot of ... confusion coming from that house. Maggie was feeling it, but the emotions were ..." He trailed off for a moment, and I wondered if I should press the issue. "I ... I have reason to believe that she lied to us when she said that she was alone in the house. It would make much more sense for another person to be there, as well."
"Magickal or non? Maybe what you were feeling was just a pet."
"No. I'm fairly certain that it was a human being. As for the magick in their blood ... I can't say."
Feeling more confused than enlightened by his explanation, I trotted after him as we headed back to Shelagh and Beck's cottage to face the firing squad once more.
SHELAGH AND BECK'S COTTAGE
"Hey, Morgan. Hey, Hunter," Bree greeted us amiably from where she, Robbie, and Raven were playing poker on the living room's coffee table. "Come join us!"
Hunter looked apologetic. "Sorry, Bree. I can't. I have to get through questioning at least half of the coven tonight." I looked at him in surprise.
"What? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Morgan, we've only got two days before this situation will become undeniably more dire. Maggie may have been calm, albeit slightly suspicious, but I'm not going to drag you along with me every time. This is council business."
"But I want to help you."
"I know that you do, love," he said gently. "But it's too dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."
Seeing the look of need in his eyes, the need for me to understand, I nodded slowly and reluctantly. This was clearly something that he felt he needed to do on his own.
"All right," I said quietly. "Just ... hurry back, okay? And be careful." He turned to leave again, but not before I stopped him. "Oh, and try not to piss anyone off, okay? I don't want my boyfriend to be char-broiled by witch-fire."
Hunter just smiled at me, squeezed my hand briefly, and then turned down the hallway to go out the front door.
HUNTER'S P.O.V
Goddess, I had never been so bored during interrogations before. After questioning over fifteen members of Aunt Shelagh and Uncle Beck's coven, I stumbled into the cottage through the back kitchen door past midnight, completely and thoroughly exhausted. After grabbing myself a glass of cold milk from the icebox, I was about to go up the stairs to bed, not even needing to turn on a light in the dim, deserted hallway to find the staircase, when a voice called my name.
"Giomanach."
After jumping about a foot in the air out of surprise, I realized that the voice belonged to Uncle Beck and was coming from the living room.
"Uncle Beck? It's past twelve o'clock. What are you doing up?"
Uncle Beck was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the embers in the fireplace glimmering and dying out. He looked exhausted, and had clearly been waiting up for me to arrive back.
"I wanted to talk to you when we wouldn't be interrupted by the others. They've already gone to bed."
I walked into the living room, my eyes getting heavier with each step, and plopped down on the coffee table in front of Uncle Beck. He looked at me and then leaned forward, his hands folded together.
"Giomanach ... this may not be the best time to tell you this, and believe me, I feel horrible about forcing this information on you when you're exhausted, but ... there's something that you need to know. About your aunt and I."
I stared at him in fear, listening intently now. This sounded extremely serious.
"As you may have noticed ... Shelagh and I haven't been getting along as well as we used to. We fight more often, almost every day about one thing or another. I've ... We've decided to legally, as well as spiritually, separate."
Something inside me crashed.
"We're divorcing, Giomanach. Our papers have already been filed, and it should be finalized in a few weeks. Our high priestess has already performed the rites of separation."
No. This couldn't be right. Aunt Shelagh and Uncle Beck were muirn beatha dans, weren't they? I had always thought that they were. How could they be ...
Oh, Goddess.
"Sky," I whispered, so quietly that I barely heard myself say it.
"We're terrified of telling her about this," Uncle Beck murmured. "It's been the one thing that we can agree on."
"This will destroy her," I said, my voice raising slightly.
"I know that, but –"
"Why did you tell me like this? Do you want me to tell her for you? Is that what you want?" My voice had raised louder.
"Giomanach, be quiet, the others will –"
"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" When he didn't respond, just looked at me with sadness in his eyes, I forcibly calmed myself down and evened out my heavy breathing. "Uncle Beck ... how is this happening?"
"... I cannot agree with her on several things. Several differences are just ... unable to be compromised. This is the only way, we both agree on that, but we both also know that Sky will blame herself. She has ... a history of doing that."
I closed my eyes against the stream of painful memories concerning that truth.
"Uncle Beck ..."
"Giomanach, we need your help. You're closer to her than Shelagh ever was, and you've known her these past years when we have barely heard from her. Please ... help us."
I looked up at him, cold fury in my eyes.
"I thought I already was."
A/N: shuddergasp The secret is revealed!!! Lol, sorry, I'm kind of a loser that way. Anyways, what do you think so far? Please review, because your reviews determine how long the story continues! Anyway, the situation with Sky, her "history" issues, Hunter, Shelagh, and Beck will be further explored in the next few chapters and probably revealed in the next. I know I've been saying that for a while, but it will, I promise! So please don't hurt me cowers hehe ... About the dark magick ... later on, the mystery thickens with rumors surrounding Maggie Fisher and other members of Briongloid Radharc (which, by the way, means "Dream Sight" in Gaelic ... ;) just thought it sounded prettyful). So that's it for now, but I'll be back later! TTYL, love you all, and REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!!
When Morgan is reminded of her paternal grandmother, it refers to Sean
Rowlands' mother, not whoever is Ciaran's mother. Just wanted to
clarify unless that confuses people.
Summary: Tensions rise between Hunter and Sky and their
guardians/parents as time rapidly runs out for the members of Shelagh
and Beck's coven.
PART III: Gathering
MORGAN'S P.O.V
"We are NOT having this conversation, Uncle Beck!"
"Yes, we damn well are!"
In case you couldn't tell from the yelling, Robbie, Raven, Sky, and I were all sitting in Beck and Shelagh's kitchen, listening to Hunter and Uncle Beck having a major row. By major, I mean apocalypse-y and practically measurable on the Richter scale.
"No! I will not stand here and listen to you talking as if you're going to die in two days!"
"I might! My entire coven may perish, and that's why we need you to keep a cool head about this!"
"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KEEP A COOL HEAD WHEN I'VE JUST BEEN TOLD THAT MY AUNT AND UNCLE, NOT TO MENTION AN ENTIRE COVEN OF PEOPLE, ARE ABOUT TO –"
"What is all of the yelling in here?"
Aunt Shelagh and Bree chose that moment to make their reentrance after spending about half an hour admiring their own wardrobes. While I may be of the same gender, I will never understand some of Bree's reasoning.
Shelagh looked livid and turned her glare on Uncle Beck. "They're here for less than an hour and I already find you telling them information about our coven? I don't even know half of these people's names!"
"Robbie," Robbie offered, holding up a hand nervously.
"Raven."
"Morgan."
"See?" Uncle Beck asked genially. "Now no one here's a stranger."
"Beck –"
"Shelagh, they're trying to help! Can't you see that?"
"Are you suggesting that I'm being defiant?"
"Ma! Da!" It was Sky's turn to raise her voice as she quickly stood up from the table, her face red with anger. "God, why are you two fighting like this? I can't believe that you're being so stubborn about this, Ma! Admittedly, we brought a few more people along than we had originally planned, but –"
"Athar, this is not the time or the place to be discussing this."
"Anything that you can say to Hunter or I you can say to them!" She motioned the rest of us.
I could see something changing in Aunt Shelagh from the moment that Sky said that. Maybe Sky realized it, too, because she suddenly fell completely silent.
"If that is what you want, then I will." Shelagh took a small breath, her face furious and her eyes narrowed to hardly more than slits. "I wish you had listened to me in the first place, Athar, when I told you to go to Dublin."
"That was my –" Sky started to say.
"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, ATHAR!" Aunt Shelagh screamed in fury. She turned her fuming stare to Hunter, who all but cowered from the sight. "I wish that you had listened to me when I told you not to join the council, Giomanach! You two have both embarrassed me FAR more than either your sisters or Alwyn did, and I suggest that, the moment that whoever is sending dark magick against our coven is discovered and stripped of his powers, you leave England." Her voice lowered about forty decibels. "Permanently."
With that, she turned on her heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the kitchen door behind her.
The tension in the room, if it were tangible, would probably have been about five feet thick. Hunter was staring in shell-shocked silence at the place where Aunt Shelagh had been standing about five seconds ago, as was Beck, who buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on the granite counter. Hunter slowly sank down into a chair around the small table; still stunned from what I had just witnessed, I took his hand in an I'm-trying-to- be-helpful-but-I-don't-really-know-what-to-say type of way; as Sky made an odd whimpering noise, Raven immediately was at her side and consoling her in whispers. Robbie and Bree were staring openly at all of us, their eyes wide with fear and worry as Uncle Beck finally lifted his face from his hands and gave a very forced smile.
"Well ... I daresay that none of you have ever witnessed something like that before." No one spoke or moved. Quickly casting out my senses, I discovered that Bree was actually holding her breath. Beck clapped his hands together softly.
"You'll never meet someone quite like Shelagh." He gave a feeble laugh. "Consider yourselves lucky ..." After a moment in which he looked down at the ground, he lifted his head again. "Dinner is in an hour. I'm making my world-famous rib roast with Portobello mushrooms, so don't be late."
"We should unpack," Hunter said quietly, motioning to me with his eyes. I gave a slight nod, unwilling to speak or make noise of any kind, and slowly got up from the table to follow him into the living room.
BREE'S P.O.V
"That was ... intense."
"I couldn't have phrased it better myself," Robbie said after a long moment as he hung two shirts on hangers in the wardrobe. "Hunter and Sky were crushed."
"Bigger than crushed."
"Demolished." I gave him an affectionate smile and tossed another shirt at him from out of his duffel bag (which was, unfortunately and very damaging to my fashion-sensitive eyes, bright yellow). As he hung it up and I neatly placed my last pair of pants into the drawer, we both sat down on the bed and leaned against each other.
"They should tell you about the time differences before you go overseas," Robbie said with a chuckle. "It's almost dark here and I feel like it's time to be getting up."
"Well ..." I grinned wickedly at him. "The fact that it'll be dark faster means that enjoyable activities involving the dark can come to pass sooner."
Robbie, bless his timid little heart, looked appalled. "Bree, we're in a house full of people!"
"There was sarcasm."
Robbie flushed bright red and looked away as I grinned at him; I had always loved teasing him, even before we got together in the romantic sense. After a moment, though, a horrifying thought occurred to me. "Robbie?"
"Yeah?"
"Promise me that if we ever get married, we won't end up like Shelagh and Beck."
"I definitely hope - We're getting married???"
"It was hypothetical."
"I knew that."
RAVEN'S P.O.V
"Are you okay?"
Of course she's not okay, you idiot. THAT was a smart thing to say.
"... Yeah. I'm fine." I looked at her sympathetically.
"Liar."
From where Sky has been standing at her dresser staring into the mirror, I saw her smile. I stood up from the bed with a sigh and looked into the mirror, standing next to her. She looked so tired.
"Are you going to be okay?"
"Eventually. It's just overwhelming. Being back here."
"Yeah ..." I wrapped my arms around her waist gently and rested my head on her shoulder. "Parents can be pains in the ass."
"You're telling me," she smiled. We didn't say anything for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence, before she spoke again. "I'm glad you're here."
I grinned playfully at her. "Of course I'm here. You think I'd let you go off to England by yourself for three months? You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"... That's good to know."
MORGAN'S P.O.V
"Well, that was painful," I said quietly as Hunter and I walked down the gravel path in front of 53 West Kingston Drive, remembering with frustration the affair that dinner that night had been. While Uncle Beck was and definitely deserved to be a master chef, even the incredible taste of his mushrooms and ribs couldn't take away from the utter silence of the table, the tension between all seated nearly touchable. Sky and Hunter had both spent the entire dinner concentrating on their plates only to say "Pass the salt" or "This is really good, Da", and Shelagh hadn't even said anything at all, only glancing, still angry, at Uncle Beck out of the corners of her eyes.
"Painful is an understatement," Hunter sighed, looking at the ground. "I wanted to bolt at least three times."
"Understandable."
He smiled at me and kissed my forehead affectionately, and I felt with a tingle the warm, gushy feeling always associated with Hunter kissage. It had nearly killed me to feel Hunter's pain regarding his guardians, who had acted as his parents for nearly all of his life, and the confusion he felt for them. It was time to forget what had happened earlier today, though, and start questioning members of the coven as to who or possibly what had been torturing them with dark magick.
Hunter rang the door ringer on the simple one-level brick cottage that, according to Uncle Beck, belonged to Maggie and Rupert Fisher, two members of Briongloid Radharc. The bright red door didn't budge for a moment before a large, friendly-faced woman with waist-length gray hair answered it.
"Mrs. Fisher?" Hunter asked politely.
"Yes?" she answered in a sweet voice that reminded me of my paternal grandmother.
"My name is Hunter Niall, and this is Morgan Rowlands," he said warmly, motioning to both himself and to me. "I'm with the council, and I'd like to ask you some questions about your coven."
The woman's friendly exterior instantly changed from kind and motherly to afraid and fearful as her eyes widened proportionally.
"I-I'm afraid I don't –"
"You are, of course, aware that dark magick has been attacking your coven by some unknown sender?"
"Of-Of course I am, but what do you want with me? I haven't been –"
"Mrs. Fisher, you are not under suspicion. Beck and Shelagh Eventide, my guardians, speak very highly of you," Hunter said quickly, and Maggie visibly relaxed. "I just need to ask you some questions about what sort of things have happened around here lately."
"Oh ... well ..." She sighed reluctantly after a moment. "Please come in."
As Maggie lead us through her foyer and into her living room, I noticed that it was furnished in much the same way as Shelagh and Beck's cottage was; a stone fireplace built into the wall of the living room was home to a crackling fire, and I could feel its warmth standing seven feet away. As I sat down next to Hunter on a plush velvet green couch and Maggie Fisher sat down across from us in a really ugly yellow chair that would have sent Bree into a fashion fit, I noticed the tenseness with which she kept glancing at the front door.
"What sorts of things have happened to you, personally, as a result of the dark magick?" Hunter asked her, and I recognized the change from my warm, cuddly Hunter to the council's interrogative, always-questioning Hunter with a sigh.
"Well, it's not been as bad as Shelagh and Beck," Maggie said, her British accent more pronounced than before in her nervousness. "I feel awful for them, poor dears, all of their beautiful flowers dead ... for the rest of us, it's been mostly little things. My car won't run, my electricity goes out sporadically and without probable cause ..."
"Can you think of anyone who might have a personal vendetta against your coven or want to hurt someone in it?" I asked in concern.
Maggie looked truly worried. "Hurt someone? I'd wager not. Our coven is made of none but pure hearts and gentle souls." Thinking of Aunt Shelagh, I barely managed to stifle a snort. "But ... I can't speak for everyone when I say that I have no enemies. I know everyone in the coven, and we're all wonderful friends, but this seems the sort of thing that I would expect someone with a secret would keep known to no one but themselves, am I correct?"
"Most likely," Hunter sighed, and I could tell that he was realizing that this could be harder than he had expected. Suddenly, though, he looked around him. "Is your husband home? Rupert Fisher?"
"Ah, no, he's not," Maggie said. "He's gone to the store for a few things, so I'm here alone at the moment. If you want to wait, he should be back shortly. I could –"
"No, that's all right," Hunter said, interrupting her. "I don't think that there's very much for me here. I may be stopping by again, though."
"Oh, please," Maggie said cordially. "I do not entertain very often, so it is nice to have guests on occasion."
As Hunter and I stepped back outside through the front door and began walking down the street away from the Fisher household, I noticed how my boyfriend kept glancing over his shoulder back at the brick home. I laced my hand through his and looked up at him.
"What's wrong? You look confused."
"I'm just ..." He sighed. "I got the feeling in there that she wasn't being completely truthful with us."
"Honestly? Me, too," I admitted. "Did you see how she kept looking towards the door all nervously? Do you think she was hiding something?" A thought suddenly struck me. "Maybe she's a mass murderer and she was worried about her accomplice bursting through the door with a brand new body while we were there!"
Hunter looked grossed out. "Morgan!"
I giggled slightly. "Sorry. All this detective stuff has gone to my head."
"I sensed a lot of barrier spells and concealment charms coming from all over the place, though," he said quietly, lowering his voice as if making sure that, should Maggie still be listening to us even though we were far away from her house now, she couldn't hear us. "That is the thing that made me the most suspicious."
"How can you sense concealment charms?" I asked in confusion. "Isn't their purpose to ... conceal?"
"Yes, but one can normally feel the essence of all magickal people coming from a home." Seeing my perplexed look, he launched into explanation mode (during which he looks, unbelievably, even hotter). "I sensed a lot of ... confusion coming from that house. Maggie was feeling it, but the emotions were ..." He trailed off for a moment, and I wondered if I should press the issue. "I ... I have reason to believe that she lied to us when she said that she was alone in the house. It would make much more sense for another person to be there, as well."
"Magickal or non? Maybe what you were feeling was just a pet."
"No. I'm fairly certain that it was a human being. As for the magick in their blood ... I can't say."
Feeling more confused than enlightened by his explanation, I trotted after him as we headed back to Shelagh and Beck's cottage to face the firing squad once more.
SHELAGH AND BECK'S COTTAGE
"Hey, Morgan. Hey, Hunter," Bree greeted us amiably from where she, Robbie, and Raven were playing poker on the living room's coffee table. "Come join us!"
Hunter looked apologetic. "Sorry, Bree. I can't. I have to get through questioning at least half of the coven tonight." I looked at him in surprise.
"What? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Morgan, we've only got two days before this situation will become undeniably more dire. Maggie may have been calm, albeit slightly suspicious, but I'm not going to drag you along with me every time. This is council business."
"But I want to help you."
"I know that you do, love," he said gently. "But it's too dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."
Seeing the look of need in his eyes, the need for me to understand, I nodded slowly and reluctantly. This was clearly something that he felt he needed to do on his own.
"All right," I said quietly. "Just ... hurry back, okay? And be careful." He turned to leave again, but not before I stopped him. "Oh, and try not to piss anyone off, okay? I don't want my boyfriend to be char-broiled by witch-fire."
Hunter just smiled at me, squeezed my hand briefly, and then turned down the hallway to go out the front door.
HUNTER'S P.O.V
Goddess, I had never been so bored during interrogations before. After questioning over fifteen members of Aunt Shelagh and Uncle Beck's coven, I stumbled into the cottage through the back kitchen door past midnight, completely and thoroughly exhausted. After grabbing myself a glass of cold milk from the icebox, I was about to go up the stairs to bed, not even needing to turn on a light in the dim, deserted hallway to find the staircase, when a voice called my name.
"Giomanach."
After jumping about a foot in the air out of surprise, I realized that the voice belonged to Uncle Beck and was coming from the living room.
"Uncle Beck? It's past twelve o'clock. What are you doing up?"
Uncle Beck was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the embers in the fireplace glimmering and dying out. He looked exhausted, and had clearly been waiting up for me to arrive back.
"I wanted to talk to you when we wouldn't be interrupted by the others. They've already gone to bed."
I walked into the living room, my eyes getting heavier with each step, and plopped down on the coffee table in front of Uncle Beck. He looked at me and then leaned forward, his hands folded together.
"Giomanach ... this may not be the best time to tell you this, and believe me, I feel horrible about forcing this information on you when you're exhausted, but ... there's something that you need to know. About your aunt and I."
I stared at him in fear, listening intently now. This sounded extremely serious.
"As you may have noticed ... Shelagh and I haven't been getting along as well as we used to. We fight more often, almost every day about one thing or another. I've ... We've decided to legally, as well as spiritually, separate."
Something inside me crashed.
"We're divorcing, Giomanach. Our papers have already been filed, and it should be finalized in a few weeks. Our high priestess has already performed the rites of separation."
No. This couldn't be right. Aunt Shelagh and Uncle Beck were muirn beatha dans, weren't they? I had always thought that they were. How could they be ...
Oh, Goddess.
"Sky," I whispered, so quietly that I barely heard myself say it.
"We're terrified of telling her about this," Uncle Beck murmured. "It's been the one thing that we can agree on."
"This will destroy her," I said, my voice raising slightly.
"I know that, but –"
"Why did you tell me like this? Do you want me to tell her for you? Is that what you want?" My voice had raised louder.
"Giomanach, be quiet, the others will –"
"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" When he didn't respond, just looked at me with sadness in his eyes, I forcibly calmed myself down and evened out my heavy breathing. "Uncle Beck ... how is this happening?"
"... I cannot agree with her on several things. Several differences are just ... unable to be compromised. This is the only way, we both agree on that, but we both also know that Sky will blame herself. She has ... a history of doing that."
I closed my eyes against the stream of painful memories concerning that truth.
"Uncle Beck ..."
"Giomanach, we need your help. You're closer to her than Shelagh ever was, and you've known her these past years when we have barely heard from her. Please ... help us."
I looked up at him, cold fury in my eyes.
"I thought I already was."
A/N: shuddergasp The secret is revealed!!! Lol, sorry, I'm kind of a loser that way. Anyways, what do you think so far? Please review, because your reviews determine how long the story continues! Anyway, the situation with Sky, her "history" issues, Hunter, Shelagh, and Beck will be further explored in the next few chapters and probably revealed in the next. I know I've been saying that for a while, but it will, I promise! So please don't hurt me cowers hehe ... About the dark magick ... later on, the mystery thickens with rumors surrounding Maggie Fisher and other members of Briongloid Radharc (which, by the way, means "Dream Sight" in Gaelic ... ;) just thought it sounded prettyful). So that's it for now, but I'll be back later! TTYL, love you all, and REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!!