“Harsh, but true. Still, I’m better. And . . .” She focused, managed to levitate the table a few inches, then cautiously set it down again. “Getting air pretty well, and I’ve done the flowers in the workshop, so earth’s coming along. If I could try a couple spells . . .”
“You’ve not worked with her on spells?” Fin asked.
“She’s barely getting her grip on the elements.”
“Caution has its place, Branna, but as you’ve said yourself, we don’t know how much time we have.”
“Push me,” Iona begged. “At least a little.”
“You might regret the asking of it, but that’s what I’ll do.”
“I think if there’s any of this prodding into dreams, you should all write them down.” Meara spread a cracker with cheese, handed it to Branna. “They stay clearer that way, and you could compare them. There might be something there.”
“That’s a sensible thing,” Connor agreed.
“What about the place in the woods?” Iona asked. “Where the first dark
witch lived. When can I see it?”
In the beat of silence that followed, Iona felt tension, fury, grief. Once again, Boyle took her hand under the table.
“You’re not ready,” Branna said simply. “You need to trust me there.”
“If I’m not ready to go there, why can’t you tell me why?”
“It’s a place between.” Fin spoke slowly, frowning at his wine. “Sometimes it’s simply a place with the ruins of an old cabin, and the echoes of the life lived there, the power wielded there. A gravestone where that power lies under the earth. It’s the trees and the quiet.”
“And other times,” Connor said, “it slips away, and it’s alone. It’s not tightly bound to the world, to the here. Without the knowing, a person might be caught there, in that other, that alone. And it’s there he might come, stronger for it, and take what you are.”
“But you go there, have gone there. I have to know how to go, and how to stay.”
“It’ll come,” Branna promised.
“He took me there in a dream.”
“Not him, I think, but her. Teagan. To show you, and still keep you safe. Be patient here, Iona.”
“He marked me there.”
Silence fell again after Fin’s words. “I knew of him, but not that I’d come from him. And there, in a place that had been a kind of sanctuary, at a time when there was joy and promise, he laid his mark on me, and the burn of it seemed to sear down to my bones. He slipped the bounds, took it all adrift, and marked me. And he came in the form of a man, and I could see myself in this man. He told me he would give me more power than I could imagine, that I would have all and more anyone could dream of. I was his blood, and all this I would have. I had only to do one thing for it.”
“What?”
“Only to kill Branna as she slept beside me. Just that.”
A shudder wanted to rise out of her, but Iona fought it back, kept her gaze on Fin’s, quiet and steady. “But you didn’t.”
“It’s him I’d’ve killed had I known how. One day I will, know how and get it done and finished. Or die trying. So it’s best you wait a bit longer before we take you there. And all of us will take her when that time comes. That’s a firm line, Branna. I’ll not be shut out of it.”
“When the time comes,” she agreed. “For now, we wait and watch. We learn, and we plan.”
“And talk more than we have,” Connor added. “We’ll be stronger for that.”
“You’re right. We close no one out.” Branna touched a hand, briefly, to Fin’s arm. “I was wrong. Will we say Fin and Connor will use their hawks to patrol—if that’s the word—the woods? We’ve Meara and Iona leading the guided rides most days, and keeping their eyes and ears open there. Boyle’s seeing Iona home, so I’ll make a charm for you, Boyle, for protection.”
“I’ll see to it,” Fin told her.
“Fair enough. I’ll work with Iona, and there I may call on all of you from time to time for help. If we dream, we write it down, all the details of it.”