“No.”
“More to catch you off guard than to rattle your nerves then. And it may be he pulls some power from the fog as well, and wasn’t as strong.”
“Didn’t think he’d need to be?” Boyle nodded. “He learned different. She turned a tree to toothpicks.”
“I had some trouble with control.”
“Calling a whirlwind with no practice? I’m not surprised, and it’s a wonder if a tree’s all the damage done.”
“All that I saw,” Boyle said. “Unless you count the bastard spinning around in the air.”
“If I could’ve held it, focused it better, I might have destroyed it.”
Branna dismissed that with a shrug. “If it was that easy, I’d have done it myself before this. You did well. Finish it out now.”
Listening, nodding, Branna didn’t interrupt again.
“Yes, you did well indeed. I’d tell you it was a big risk, but I can’t question your instincts. They told you this was the way, and you followed them. You’re safe and well. I think you took Cabhan off guard, and you cost him. It may be you hurt him a bit as well, if his power source—the jewel is that, I think—lessened. How did it feel?”
“Enormous. Like I could feel every cell in my body burning. Like nothing could stop me.”
At that, Branna’s brows drew together. “There’s the danger as true as the wolf.”
“I think I know. Part of feeling that invincibility was why I couldn’t control it, or started to lose it, and let it control me.”
“It’s a vital lesson learned. It’s that being engulfed by the power, the thirst for more of it that made Cabhan.”
Iona thought she understood how that could be, how the temptation, the seduction of such great power could overwhelm. “Boyle talked me down. He helped me hold it, calm it, and finally stop it.”
Now those eyebrows rose. “Is that the way of it? That’s no small feat, to rein in a witch who’s not only reaping a whirlwind but riding one. Otherwise, the pair of you would be roaming about Oz looking for ruby slippers.”
“But I’d be the good witch.”
“Hmm. I’m relieved you weren’t hurt, either of you. And I’m thinking we might have a space of time, before he makes another lunge at us, to smooth out more rough edges. I’m proud of you,” she added, then rose.
Simple words, simply spoken, but they poured into Iona like fine wine. “Thanks.”
“I’ve a thing or two to see to in the workshop now that my head’s clear,” Branna continued. “I’ll tell Connor all of this, and as he came at you when you were with Boyle, it’s best if we tell Meara the whole of it as well. And Fin,” she added before Boyle could. “We’ll meet again, would you say, in a day or two, once I’ve—once we’ve all had time to think it all through.”
“I think that’s the right thing,” Iona said. “We’re stronger together, right, than separately?”
“I’ll hope. See you at breakfast, Boyle,” Branna said with a wink, then left them.
“Oh well, I don’t know as I should—”
“You should.” Now Iona got to her feet, held out a hand. “You really should. Come upstairs with me, Boyle.”
The wanting was so steep he couldn’t climb out of it. He stood, took her hand, and went upstairs with her.
***
UNDER STRICT ORDERS TO REPORT TO BRANNA’S WORKSHOPdirectly from the stables, and with Boyle busy in a meeting with Fin, Iona tapped Meara for a ride home.
“I have to get a car.” She frowned at the winding, narrow road Meara zoomed along as if it were a six-lane highway. “A cheap car. A cheap, reliable car.”
“I can put the word out on that.”
“Yeah, that’d be good. Then I have to learn how to drive on the wrong side of the road.”
