“He’s like no one but himself, but he comes from the blood, as we do. He springs from Cabhan, the black sorcerer.”
“Wait a minute. Wait.” She tried to take it in, even pressed her hands to the sides of her head as if to hold it all in. “The evil guy, the one that Sorcha killed—or mostly killed? This Fin is descended from him?”
“He is.” Eyes flashing, face grim, Branna shoved impatiently at a loosened pin in her hair. “He bears the mark, and it was Teagan who marked Cabhan. He has power, and the blood.”
“He’s evil?”
In an impatient gesture, Branna waved a hand in the air, then poured the tea. “Sure there’s no simple answer to a question like that. He’s harmed no one, and I would know. But he’s of Cabhan, and the time’s coming ’round. He sent the horse so we’d know.”
“But isn’t having Alastar an advantage, for me? For us? For our side of this?”
“We’ll see what we see.”
“I don’t understand.” Because they were there, Iona took a cookie, gestured with it. “He’s Boyle’s partner, and his friend, I got that. I don’t see how he could be dangerous if—”
“An easier question to answer. Dangerous Fin is, and always has been.”
“But if Boyle’s such a stand-up guy, how can they be friends?”
“Life’s a puzzle.”
“One thing, it explains how Boyle knew I was... you know.”
On a sigh, Branna lifted her teacup. “Witchisn’t a bad word, Iona. It’s who and what you are.”
“It hasn’t exactly been cocktail-party conversation in my life. I’m getting used to it, a little. I should’ve told you before, right away. He knew. I didn’t tell him—why would I?—but he knew. He didn’t seem very weirded out by it, but since he’s friends with a sorcerer—”
“Fin’s a witch, just as we are.”
“Right. It just sounds a little girly.”
“You’ve much to learn, cousin.” She handed Iona her tea.
“I should tell you something else first. I don’t break my word. It’s important. But today, walking back from the stables, I started to go through those vines. I didn’t mean to, but I thought I saw a light, and I heard my name, over and over. It was almost like the dream I had. I felt out of myself, pulled in. Like I needed to go through, to whatever waited. Kathel stopped me—again. I don’t break promises, Branna. I don’t lie.”
“Ever?” Branna sipped her own tea.
“Ever. I’m crap at it anyway, so why bother? But I’d have gone back there if Kathel hadn’t come. I couldn’t have stopped myself.”
“He’s testing you.”
“Who?”
“Cabhan, or what remains of him. You’ll have to be stronger, and smarter. Once you’re both, Connor and I will take you back, as we promised. Well then, let’s see what we have to work with.”
Too delighted to drink, Iona set the tea aside. “Are you going to teach me a spell?”
On another laugh, Branna shook her head. “Did you gallop the first time you sat a horse?”
“I wanted to.”
“Today you walk, and on a lead. Tell me what your granny said was the most important thing about your power, about the craft?”
“To harm no one.”
“Good. An it harm none. What you have is as much a part of you as the color of your eyes, the shape of your mouth. What you do with it is a choice. Choose well.”
“I made the choice to come here, to you.”
