Chapter Fourteen

Muted whispering sounded in Quinn's head as soon as he and the little girl passed through Everett and onto the Hwy 2 bridge that stretched over the Snohomish River.

The Opari sensed he was coming.

The whispering grew louder as he drove by Lake Stevens, then through Granite Falls. He tried to make some sense of it, but it was like being at a cocktail party in a foreign land -- overhearing a conversation but not understanding a word.

As he entered the Robe Valley, the whispering was loud enough to be a serious distraction, which was why he almost hit the woman standing in the middle of the road.

Quinn came around the corner--spotted her--swerved--the Ford 250's tires shrieked as they fought for traction. When he finally managed to bring the truck to a stop, the woman popped up alongside his window.

The glyphs on his back prickled.

A witch.

Quinn had plenty of reasons to dislike witches. They preferred to be known as spell-crafters of magic-crafters, but he'd always called them witches (in his head) partly as rebellion, partly because as far as he was concerned the term perfectly outlined their true nature. Paranoia and the arrogance that came along with power made a toxic combination.

He recognized her instantly.

"Mandy?"

"Lachlan Quinn, you almost hit me, you moron," she yelled.

"Sweet Mother of All, you were walking down the middle of the fucking road and on a blind curve to boot. What the hell were you thinking?"

"Of course, I was. My car broke down a way back. Where else would I walk trying to hitch a ride?"

He bit back a comment that most people hitchhiked on the side of the road unless they were fucking crazy. He also decided to not comment on the fact that she was a terrible liar. There had been no car on the side of the road.

He looked in the back seat, afraid that all the yelling had awakened his sleeping passenger, but she was out like a light, her little face angelic in sleep.

"I suppose you want a lift into town?"

"I would hope so," she said and climbed into the truck like she was doing him a favor.

You haven't changed a bit. You always were a big pain in my butt."

Mandy had grown into a knockout--A golden blond goddess with big cornflower blue eyes. She had a zaftig pinup figure--the kind bomber crews liked to paint on their planes during World War II. Dressed in a simple blue summery dress, she was hot hot hot--too bad she was such a pain in the ass.

Quinn could sense her magic roiling and coiling around her talent like a sinuous, deadly serpent.

Her acerbic voice jerked his attention back from his musings.

"What happened to your face?" Her eyes were fixed on the scar on his face.

"Accident."

"You're a lot bigger than I remember."

"Well, it has been ten years. Clean living. Pure thoughts. Avoiding bad company. People like you."

"Very funny.'

Mandy turned and eyed the little girl sound asleep in the back seat. "What on earth are you doing with a baby wolf-kin? Katie didn't mention it, which means that you didn't tell her. You're still keeping secrets."

"She was delivered to my doorstep. One of your crazies was after her. She's traumatized, probably from shifting at too young an age. I'm hoping Anna can heal her so I can find out who her people are."

"What do you mean by one of my crazies?"

"A Hag."

She scoffed. "You're imagining things. There is no such thing. The last one was put down years ago." She continued staring at her, frowning.

"Lan, that little shifter is trouble. I'll have to take her to the Aunties."

Quinn stiffened. "Mandy, that is NOT going to happen. You are not taking her anywhere. I wouldn't trust the Aunties with this little girl as far as I could throw them. They'll use her as a bargaining chip. You know they would."

Quinn started the truck, checked to make sure she had fastened her seat belt, and pulled out onto the road.

Mandy didn't waste any time getting down to business. As soon as the truck started the glyphs flared hot. He glanced at her. She stared straight ahead, remote and placid--but her hands were busy twisting and signing like a rap-singing gang banger. She muttered a cantrip and looked over at him expectantly.

The compulsion spell was a good one. She must have gained Fifth or maybe Sixth Mystery.

The spell slid off and dissipated. His glyphs quietened.

Quinn smiled slightly. She must have caught the mockery because she pressed her lips together.

Then she tried a different tack. A dizzying scent of lavender filled the truck. He found himself leaning toward her when his glyphs warmed again.

This was a real danger. He pulled back and concentrated on driving.

Jesus, that was close.

Quinn was particularly vulnerable when it came to that spell. He'd been head over heels crushing with either her or her sisters at one time or another since he was fourteen years old. All of whom in the end made it clear that he was nowhere near cool enough.

"Mandy, behave yourself or I'll stop and let you out to walk to town.

Her response was a mocking grin.

"So, why are you coming back to stay after all this time?"

"I am not coming back to stay. Your sister in crazy, Charming, showed up in her fetch-form. Apparently, the Aunties demand my presence. I'm here for a couple of days to get the little girl fixed up and get her back to her people. I'll see what the Aunties want and then I'm going back to live like a normal person in a normal town."

"Well good," she said tartly, "the last thing we need in Emory is YOU. Things are at a cusp. You and that shifter are sure to make things worse."

That was interesting. She wasn't lying. So not everybody wanted him there.

"Mandy, even a four-year-old could come up with a better story than a car breaking down. Especially when there was no car in sight."

She stared straight ahead; her mouth fixed in a stubborn line.

"What's going on? Are they trying to make sure I'm following orders? Did Birdy send you to watch for me?"

"Some in both the covens don't want you here. We're just trying to find out what you're up to."

Quinn snorted. "Sweet Mother, you people are too much. I'm here because those bitches won't leave me the fuck alone. Who's the 'we' you're talking about?"

"Us."

The Sisters. "As I remember, most of the time you four can't even agree where to meet for ice cream sundaes." The sisters were all about drama and fights flared up as long as he had known them.

"We're best friends. Sometimes we get on each other's nerves. These days we sometimes have different agendas."

"Charming seemed anxious that I show up," Quinn said.

"She had no choice, Althea commanded."

Quinn groaned inside. The four of them had been a pain in his ass since fourth grade.

"What happened to your face? Where did you run off to that summer? Why the hell did you up and join the stupid Navy and with not a word to anyone, not even us."

"It was a bad summer."

"What does that mean?" She kept glancing at his scar. Her hands rested on her lap quietly, her spell-signing momentarily distracted.

Quinn decided to tell her the truth. He was suddenly tired of hiding.

"Cayden and Anna sent me into the Murk on the other side of the Opari."

Mandy blinked.

"Seriously? That is bull-crap, where did you go?"

Quinn didn't respond. He rubbed the scar that ran from his right eye to his ear.

He had a sudden flash of memory.

***

The Murk was the borderland between the mundane world and the Alfheimr, the realm of the Fae. His "summer" had lasted seven years and seven days in that place, with occasional forays into Alfheim. Time flowed differently in the Murk.

The scar came because he got distracted. The Vísdómur who were tasked with his training liked to run as they taught. That particular session was a hundred-mile chase through the wildest part of the Opari. A chase that lasted for a month. One of the early lessons was on situational awareness. He had been on the move for three days while the Troll women flitted in and out of the dark forest and attacked him with whip and staff. He was expected to be able to defend himself at all times.

On the fourth week in that green hell, he'd been running day and night--with snatched naps. He came upon changeling caught in a boggle's web. He was certain it was a trap but he couldn't leave him so he stopped to help. He had freed him but was so stupidly clumsy with fatigue that he fell asleep leaning against a tree--he hadn't yet mastered the discipline to ignore exhaustion. Quick as thought, the changeling came out of the dark and slashed his face-- eye to ear.

"Learn this boy," the youngest troll whispered. "Your mind is too weak for the fine body the Mother of All gave you. Run or we will cull you and start over with someone new. Run human or I'll do worse."

The troll women allowed no weakness--no giving up. Later, when he had learned what lengths, they would go to impart a lesson, he was grateful that she hadn't decided to take his eye as well, instead, she had her sister whip him bloody that night all the while lecturing him on the virtues of self-discipline. When the third sister, the healer, finally healed his back and face, the eldest insisted that her sister leave the scar to remind him of the importance of attention.

He went to the troll women at seventeen and returned a much much older eighteen.

***

"Quinn, are you there? Are you even paying attention to me?"

"Sure, just thinking."

Well," Mandy continued to rant. "You've always been far too good looking for your own good. Katie told me all about those airhead models you date down in Seattle that think you're a handsome, dashingly dangerous pirate from a romance book cover. To us, you're just some fatheaded jerk who used to be nice. A jerk who up and left without a word of explanation."

"Sweet Mother, Who the hell have you been talking to? There was just one model that I went on some dates with. Wait a minute, how long have you all known I was in Seattle?"

"Since day one," she said smugly. "Gus kept us informed."

So much for covering his tracks. Gus had some 'splaining to do.

This heavy-handed theatrical anger about him leaving years ago would have been humorous except for the constant hammering of compulsion spells that started up again.

"Mandy damn it, stop with the spell-casting or I swear I'll make you get out and walk. Settle down and behave yourself.

Quinn made a mental note not to underestimate her as badly as she was underestimating him. Although he reminded himself, if it hadn't been for the glyphs, by now he would be hopelessly spellbound.

There were reasons that sensible people were terrified of witches.

"Tell me about Hags. What can you tell me about them? All I know is the stories we heard when we were kids."

"All of us need a coven to handle the magic long term. Even the hedge witches like Anna are part of Coven. Witch-crafters need the discipline of family. You know all of that. Surely the old man taught you our ways."

"Have you cast out anyone in the last decades? Or maybe the Portland covens. Don't you guys talk about this stuff?

"I don't know. Maybe the Aunties know." She curled her lip in disgust. "Hags get cast out because they reach for power by Sacrifice and Blood Magic. We would have heard of someone getting cast out."

Quinn didn't mention that meant the Hag was still operating under the noses of the Aunties. He needed to know more.

"How's Suzie doing?" He still thought of Suzie as his sister, even though he had only lived in her parents' house for a year before they'd sent him away. Quinn had a heart-cracking memory of her sobbing face and little hand waving goodbye through the upstairs window as Mr. MacLeish took him away. He was quite sure she had forgotten him, but with Gus' help, he kept track of her.

"She's fine. She works with me in the clinic. She has a little girl named Charlie."

"That ex-husband of hers, do you ever see him around?"

She looked at him curiously. "He's an asshole, but the good news is that he left town suddenly a year ago. He hasn't bothered her since. What do you know about her husband?"

"Never mind," he said, then groaned to himself. That was some dumb shit -- saying never mind to Mandy. All it would do was fire her curiosity. He was allowing himself to relax around her. Dangerous. She was an animal empath, a healer, but her subtle skills no doubt worked on humans as well.

Just keep your mouth shut, do what you need to do, and get out of town as soon as you can.

He accelerated, the sooner he got rid of her the better. He had other fish to fry.

Chapter Fifteen

On the surface, Emory, Washington looked like every other small town in America, but underneath things were a bit more complicated.

It was founded by George Emory, a prospector who had struck it rich in the Virginia City gold rush. He sold his claim and journeyed back to New York to play with the rich folk. He showed up later in Seattle in the 188o's with a high society wife named Adelia and built her a mansion on Capitol Hill. He looked around for a while, made some investments, and immediately set to work building a town in the wilderness north that was the Robe Valley. There was money to be made in the logging business, and there were rumors of gold up the valley at a place called Monte Cristo.

His wife, Ada, was the one who stirred in the oddness. Like a lot of Victorian women, she was wild for the occult, with her money the town by the end of the century had attracted all manner of astrologers, palm readers, and fortune-tellers. Among them was a certain Abigail Goodfellow, late of Lily Dale, NY. Unlike the other faux spiritualists, Abigail was the real deal, a 12th circle witchcrafter. She came to town to check on a rumor of the magic and immediately felt the effects of the Opari Thinning--a rent in the fabric of reality that leaked an unimaginable amount of magic or spirit power, as it was then called.

Abigail immediately sent word back to her sisters. No one noticed when real witches started trickling in soon after.

No one thought to ask permission from the people who called themselves the Kin. The shapeshifters, who had fled the lands of the Fae and had been peacefully coexisting with the First Nation Folk for thousands of years.

***

Welcome to Emory, the Magic's hometown, Quinn thought sourly as they drove into town.

His first impression was that something about the town was off. His glyphs prickled as they drove in.

Mother of all, why did they have the road into town warded? What the hell was going on?

He glanced over at Mandy to see if she reacted. She seemed oblivious. Odd. With all her training, she had to be far more sensitive than he was. Maybe the wards were the result of some new paranoia of the Covens.

A banner stretched across the road that advertised the Annual Loggers Rodeo and Western Days Week.

"Damn I forgot, it's Founder's Week, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Mandy, "The town is full of tourists."

A herd of dairy cows blocked the highway. Emory was in the center of dairy country. The morning milking was done and a couple of boys and two dogs were pushing them across the road to the pasture on the bench that overlooked the town. Quinn winced in sympathy for the boys. He'd hated his time in the dairy barns.

A couple of ladies dressed like old-time homesteaders in gingham dresses and bonnets stood on the front porch of a store called Jesse's Yarn and Fabric Emporium furiously yelling at boys to get a move on and get the "damn creatures" off the road.

Further down the road a couple of women on horseback were sipping cokes outside a convenience store, watching the excitement. Quinn looked at them curiously. Odd to see people on horseback in town. They stared at him, then at Mandy. One made a curious hand gesture to her and cantered their horses down a path by the river and out of sight.

"Maybe, you ought to get off your porch and help move them cows yourself, Ms. Jesse," a voice called out from a group of men dressed in cowboy hats standing out in front of a bar that called itself, The Friendly Saloon.

The men laughed and slapped each other on the shoulder. Apparently, the celebration had started early here in Emory it was only 9:30 AM.

"You men got shops to run. Why on earth are you drinking on fair days," she yelled back. "You can be sure I'll be talking to your wives. And John Kelly, you're supposed to be rehearsing for the show instead of drinking and carousing with that bunch."

"I'll get down there when I'm ready, Jesse," said a stocky short guy all dressed in black. "Black Bart has got the hungries and needs some breakfast."

"Damn crafters never take things seriously," snorted the other woman, a tall lanky lady who looked to be in her sixties. She waved for Quinn to move his truck on, then did a double-take as she spotted Mandy in the truck. She put her hands on her hips and glared at her.

"Crap, why the hell did Aunt Samantha have to pick today of all days to visit her sister. Quinn, let me out here please."

Obediently, he pulled the truck over.

Mandy got out without a word, made a half-wave to the glaring woman, and hurried away in the direction of the horses.

Quinn watched her walk away, unsurprised at her abrupt departure. Things hadn't changed. It wouldn't do to be seen with him. He snorted a bitter "huh" and pulled back out into traffic, glad to be quit of her.

As he drove through town, he was surprised at how little things had changed. The big furniture factory was gone, looked like there'd been a fire, but the town mostly looked like it had when he was seven and the lady from the System placed him here in his fifth foster home.

The little girl whimpered in her sleep in the back seat. Quinn shook his head and brought himself back from memory lane.

"Okay, little wolf, we better go see Anna first and get you checked out."

Chapter Sixteen

Amanda Teague swore under her breath as she stalked into her house on the east side of Emory. They had all agreed it would be a good plan to arrange to "accidentally" meet him on the road.

That turned out to be a mistake.

Katie had called and warned them that grown Lachlan Quinn was way different from the shy, awkward boy they'd known. Amanda thought she exaggerated, but as soon as she got into his truck, she was instantly struck by the feeling that she was sitting next to a predator--a big lazy lion. She was equal parts entranced and fearful. Both feelings unsettled her and irritated her.

The smug, arrogant ass had made a fool of her. All four of them had a crush on him one time or the other over the years, including that damn Niamh, a fact he was frustratingly oblivious about. In their minds, he was Prince Charming and a big brother mixed into one. He protected them. He was the one who taught them all how to ride a bike and dribble a soccer ball.

She smiled when she remembered the "Supreme High Courts" that used to be called into session when one or the other of her sisters had gotten into a fight with one of the others and gone to him for judgment. A solemn Lachlan would call order and threaten to squirt them with a water pistol filled with what he claimed was an acid that was "A thousand times stronger than the strongest acid ever known to man" and he was going to squirt the next one who talked out of turn as he questioned them. He was always fair, and they usually accepted his judgment with mostly good grace. If not, they got squirted until pouts turned into giggles. System kids like them did not go to adults with their problems.

The silly teenage crush she'd thought herself long over. He'd always been good-looking, but now there was a deeply dangerous edginess to his good looks. An easy confidence that made him seem so different from the men she dated. God, he smelled good. Wild and masculine and powerful.

It suddenly occurred to her that her feelings were not normal. Somehow, he'd become an immensely powerful adept. Somehow, he had charmed her while she was trying to charm him.

She flushed with embarrassment. She had acted like a neophyte and he'd made a fool of her.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. The rain came and with it a hard wind that drove the fat drops against the windows of her home.

She reached for her phone as she walked into her bedroom to change and texted Isabella.

--He's here. I met him on the road.

--What was he like?

--Different, quite different. I'll be there in a bit.

--Abby and Charity are back. They are terrified.

--Shit.

Before Bella could ask any more questions, Amanda disconnected and tossed her phone on the bed, startling her two cats, Tigger and Pooh. They looked at her reproachfully and moved up to the pillows.

***

When Amanda drove up to Bella's house, she wasn't surprised to find Charming, and even Katie had arrived as well.

Lachlan's arrival had already started to change things. Bella and Katie were on the outs and hadn't spoken for months.

Inside she found her sisters and the two teens the Aunties had sent to Seattle, seated around a big, scarred oak table that she and Bella had found up in Bellingham back in better days.

Bella had her arm around Abby's shoulder. Isabella Delgado had a classic Hispanic look; smart brown eyes, her long black hair now drawn into a bun. No makeup. The law and arcane knowledge were Bella's specialty.

Both teens were pale and had mascara-streaked lines on their faces.

As Amanda came into the kitchen, Charming got up and leaned against the wall staring down at them, her mouth drawn in a prim disapproving frown. Charming was a tall, slender black woman originally from Georgia. Her specialty was food. She was a master chef. Along with her adopted mother, she ran a restaurant in the Crafter's neighborhood in the center of Emory along the Stillaguamish River. She was also the best at traveling.

They all belonged to the same coven and had been sworn in as guardians at the same time. They were coven-siblings, much closer than most blood sisters. Their relationship was solid, forged over their tormented early years in the foster care system. They were close, but that didn't mean that they didn't fight like sisters.

"Where's Katie? I saw her car out there."

"She's in the extra bedroom getting changed out of her work clothes."

"Well, what was he like?" Bella asked. She was the only one of them who hadn't seen Lachlan. She was alive with curiosity. "It's been so long. Did he look the same?"

"He's way different," Amanda said. "Physically, he's a lot bigger than I remember--maybe six-three. He grew two or three inches and added forty pounds of muscle since we saw him. He's got a scar on his face that goes from his eye to his ear. It's weird to see him as a man, not the boy we used to play tricks on..."

Katherine came into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table. She looked at the two teens.

"Let's start at the beginning," she said crisply. "Girls, you go first."

Abby took a shaky breath.

"Mistress, we watched him for two weeks. Like we were told to. He seemed so normal."

"Boring even," interrupted Charity. "All he did was work, go to the gym, and sleep. He doesn't seem to date, although there was one girl he was friendly with."

"Blond airhead," catted Abby. "You could tell from a mile off. Mean girl type. What he saw in her besides her tits and ass, I don't know, but you know how boys are."

"Get back on track," snapped Amanda.

"Yes mistress," a chastened Abby continued. "I drew the summoning rune and Mistress Charming came. Whatever she told him bothered him. He sat in his truck for a long time. We followed back to his house and watched some more."

"Then what happened," Charming asked, her soft drawl showing her roots in Georgia. "What's got you two in such a state? You didn't get permission to come back."

"Damn it Charms, let them tell it," Katherine said impatiently. "Go on girls, it's okay. I'm sure you had good reasons to break off watching."

"A Hag happened."

"A HAG," Charming shrieked.

"Charming," Amanda said. "Would you PLEASE shut up and let them talk?"

"Abby, go on," Bella said gently. "How did you know it was a Hag?

"It was blood magic. Mistress told us about it during our maleficium sessions."

"There was a bad thunderstorm," Abby said shakily. "Really bad lightning. He had a visitor, a shifter woman who handed him something. And then we saw a weird green glowing in the back. We got out and ran back to see what it was. There was a woman back there. As we watched, she cut a dog or a wolf and she took a smear of the blood and started casting spells.

"She was way powerful, scary too."

Then that guy Quinn came piling out of his house."

"Oh. My. God." Charity interrupted breathlessly. "I've never been so scared. We tried to compel her as Mistress Sara taught us."

"She laughed at us. Enchanted us, like it was nothing, and froze us in place."

"The guy was out in the yard in the rain in his underwear looking pissed."

"She demanded he turn over the girl. The shifter. You didn't tell us that the Shifters were involved in this."

"Oh My God," Abby repeated. "He called out to her in some weird language. Singing."

"Wait," said Bella, "did it sound like this." She sang a series of high-pitched notes followed by whistling.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it did."

"High Alfar. Where on earth did Lachlan learn high Alfar? As far as I know, only Anna and Althea can speak it fluently."

"What's high Alfar."

"It's the language of the Daoine Sidhe Royal Court."

Lan, what the holy hell have you been up to.

"Whatever the Hag did must have pissed him off."

"He... He changed," whispered Charity.

"What do you mean? Bella said sharply. Tell us exactly how he changed."

"I have the SIGHT you know. Not all the time. it flickers on and off. It was on that night and I could SEE. His skin glowed white. Really bright. His back was covered with glowing white and green glyphs. It hurt to look at him. His eyes turned solid black."

"He STALKED the Hag with this whip-like thing. It was weird, the whip was like it was alive or something--it shrieked. The guy acted like it was a weapon. Maybe it was, the Hag was sure scared of it."

"Fucking scary."

"You sent us down to watch a fucking WARLOCK."

"The proper name is Waerloga." came a voice from a doorway. "The old ones called them the oath-breakers. They were mostly male, although sometimes a lone female went hag. They are solitary and thus prone to evil influences by the Faerie Folk. You would remember this if you had been paying attention to your lessons."

Birdie Penrose stepped into the room accompanied by an elegantly coiffed white-haired woman who wore a black Tom Ford suit that Mandy figured probably cost a couple of thousand dollars more than her house payment.

Auntie Birdie looks the same, Mandy thought, as she looked when she and Auntie Althea had forced their way into that bad group home and rescued four terrified little girls all those years ago in Portland.

"Auntie," They all stood and nodded respectfully. Bella and Charming jumped up to hug her. Mandy just nodded, stubbornly not willing to show how relieved she was to see her. The stress that shadowed the faces of her sisters visibly slipped away as the room seemed to warm with the power of their elder's personalities.

"Ladies, this is Elaine O'Neil. She's here from the Council."

"Red Queen," muttered Bella.

The woman narrowed her eyes.

"Elaine, these women are my wards. Isabella, Amanda, Katherine, and Charming. The other two attempting to hide in the corner are two initiates that I once thought showed some promise, Charity, and Abigail."

The two redheads flushed and looked down.

"They think Lachlan Quinn is a Warlock," Amanda said. She kept her voice calm and matter of fact.

"What, whatever gave you that idea?" asked Birdy, her voice mild.

Amanda took a deep breath. "Well, I know you and Althea wanted him to come back. Charity and Abby just got back from Seattle. They were the ones Althea assigned to guide Charming's traveling. We sent them down early to watch him."

"Do you want to tell us why you all took it upon yourself to interfere? I hear you met him on the road. Why did you do that?" Birdy growled.

"We wanted to check and see about him."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Well, to begin with," said Bella, "Auntie Agatha told us he was unsuitable. She said the agency wrote that he had been court-martialed for murder. She said she was going to take it to the Council."

"Agatha Beckett is the worst sort of meddler and gossip. You four know that. Why did you listen to her?

"I thought it was important to investigate," Amanda said, her voice flat. "Even though he is our oldest friend. A Keeper that might be a mass murderer qualifies as a big deal; don't you think? It's been ten years. We wanted to see if he's changed."

"I was just going to compel him to tell us about that. A simple compulsion spell was all it would take for him to blurt out the truth."

"Also, there is more to him than meets the eye. He managed to resist the summoning for weeks," Isabella said in support. "Not even you all could do that."

"Goddess, why didn't you just come and tell us your concerns?"

She could see Birdie's temper starting to fray. Never a good sign.

"I did. I told Althea the night before she got hurt. She didn't listen, just told me to keep my nose out of my better's business."

"Sister," murmured Elaine, "Others have said that Althea was getting too rigid and high-handed."

Birdy grimaced, then turned to Amanda with a frustrated look in her eyes.

"Mandy, why didn't you come to me if you were dissatisfied with your answer. Last time I checked; I have never once turned any of you away.

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You knew I wouldn't approve. That independent streak of yours is what makes you girls special, but you take it too far. "

"Something else happened down in Seattle with Lachlan," Katherine said reluctantly.

"Go on," said Birdy.

"The girls saw what looked and felt like a Hag attacking him."

"A HAG!" They all stepped back as Birdy's face paled.

"How do you know it was a Hag?"

"Blood magic," Abigail said in a small voice. "We just finished the lessons on the maleficium. They mentioned how to spot the blood magic."

"Makes sense," said Katherine. "The foretelling of a new Cycle Surge certainly would attract a Hag. The question is what on earth does that have to do with Lachlan. That's why we're talking about a warlock. I mean Waerloga."

"Stop this foolishness now," said Birdy. "What's done is done." She looked at the four women. "You are part of a Coven and in a Coven, we plan and act together or we perish. Do you understand?"

Birdy paused, took a deep breath, then continued:

"Plans have been afoot for this young man for more than twenty years. I hope you have not derailed them. That dang boy has always been skittish and stubborn as a bull elk. I hope you have not spooked him with your meddling. You all should know this. When a Keeper passes in the best of times--the balance is upset and things unravel. These are not the best of times. We desperately need a Keeper to restore things. Even now the boundaries erode. What happened to Althea is a perfect example. Now you say you saw a Hag. Well, that should give you pause. For the first time in years, unwelcome visitors are coming through the Thinning. And here among the Covens things are starting to unravel. We are at each other's throats. Even our guardians are frightened and frightened people tend toward impulsive stupidity."

"Plans? I thought the Aunties hated Quinn," Mandy burst out.

"We're leery of him. He's an unknown quantity that the old man, may the Goddess damn him, forced on us. We don't hate him."

"Auntie," said Charity, "What about the Hag. It took him by surprise. She was suddenly afraid of him and ran. Who could inspire fear like that--not even you."

"We," Birdy replied, "have no idea what the old man trained that boy to do.

Amanda was still convinced that there was something off about him. Way too nice on the outside. Way too irritating. Way too handsome--and that cocky grin... She shook herself. "You go ahead and trust him, I don't."

"For the Mother's sake girl, don't be so naïve. Of course, we don't trust him. We're going to use him. We know there is something very strange about that young man, but he's no Warlock. It's critical we get him through tomorrow and then out to the Opari and into the old man's cabin before he bolts back to Seattle."

"Ladies," Elaine the Red Queen spoke, "the Craft drives the solitary to the darkness. You would do well to remember what Birdy just said. Acting alone--deciding alone is a path to hell. Your independence and self-assurance are a blessing and curse at the same time. Beware of your tendency to arrogance."

Ha, thought Amanda, the pots calling a kettle black. She tamped down the resentment that seemed to bubble up constantly these days.

"Well, either way, we'll soon find out," said Birdy. "I want you all to listen to me. Don't underestimate this boy. He's been thrown into a lot over the last few years. Right now, he's confused and reeling from it all, but the Marines don't put just anybody up for the Navy Cross. When he gets his feet on the ground, he will be formidable and I'm convinced we're going to need him in the next little while."

After the two elders left, the girls clustered around the table drinking their tea or coffee quietly.

"Mother Goddess," muttered Bella, "If what the girls say is real, Lachlan has symbiotic warding runes embedded. The book tells stories of the ceremony! Who could endure that?"