“For those moments, Branna, it was as it once was with us, and more besides.”
“For those moments, both bespelled. And what happened, Fin, when we joined? In that moment? The lightning, the storm, the light then the dark, and we were thrown into another place and time. Can it be clearer, the price paid for those moments?”
“Not to me, not clear at all. What did we learn, Branna? Go back to it.”
She folded her hands on the table, deliberately, firmly, set emotion aside. “All right. Into the dark, thick woods, no moon or stars, great wind moaning through the trees.”
“A river. The rush of it somewhere behind us.”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes, took herself back. “That’s right, yes. The river behind, power ahead. The dark of it, and still we went toward it.”
“The cave. Cabhan’s lair, I know it.”
“We saw nothing of him.”
“I felt him, but... it wasn’t as it is now. Something else.” He shook his head. “It isn’t clear at all, but though I don’t know where we were, I sensed something familiar all the same. As if I should have known. Then the old man was there.”
“I didn’t know him.”
“Nor did I, but again it felt as if I should. We were too soon to see, he said, and too late to stop it. Riddles. Just fecking riddles.”
“A time shift, I’m thinking. We weren’t in the now, but not when we could know more. He called himself the sacrifice.”
“And the sire of the dark. He bled and bled. Mad and dying, but there was power in him. Fading, but there.”
“Cabhan’s sacrifice?” Branna wondered, then sat rod straight. “Cabhan’s sire?” she said even as she saw the same thought in Fin’s eyes. “Could it be?”
“Well, he was whelped from someone. Ah, Cabhan’s whelp, he called me, and you Dark Witch to be. He knew us, Branna, though we’d yet to be born in his time. He knew us.”
“He didn’t make Cabhan what he is.” She shook her head, let herself feel again what she’d felt. “There wasn’t enough in him for that. But...”
“In the cave, there was more.” Calmer now, Fin relaxed the hand he’d fisted on the table. “Did the old man conjure more than he could deal with, bring the dark in, give it a source?”
“Cabhan’s blood—his sire. And the sire’s blood spilling out. His life spilling onto the ground. In sacrifice? God, Fin, did Cabhan kill his own father, sacrifice his own sire to gain the dark?”
“It must be blood,” Fin murmured. “It must always be blood. The dark demands it; even the light requires it. Too soon to see. If we had stayed, would we have found him, just coming into the power he has? Just coming in, and not fully formed?”
“It happened then, as the old man lay dying. It erupted, didn’t it, heaving us back, breaking whatever spell had taken us. And it was cold, do you remember, did you feel? It was brutally cold for an instant before it was done, and I woke in my own bed.”
Fin pushed up, restless, pacing. “He couldn’t have wanted us there—Cabhan. Couldn’t have wanted us anywhere near his lair, or to have us gain any knowledge of his origin.”
“If we’ve the right of it.”
“He didn’t bring us there, Branna. Why would he? The more we know, the more we can use to end him. Other powers you said. And I say other powers sent us there, whether those powers are without or within us.”
“Why only we two? Why not the six of us?”
“Dark Witch to be, Cabhan’s whelp?” He shrugged. “You know very well you can’t always logic out magicks. We need to go back, learn more.”
“I’m not after having sex with you so we can travel back in time to Cabhan’s cave.”
“But you’d give your life for it.” He waved her off before she could speak. “I don’t want sex as a magickal tool, even with you. And I want to be full in control on the next journey, not taken by other forces or means. I have to think on it.”
“I’ll have your oath.”
“What?” Distracted, he glanced back, watched her rise from the table, her hair long, loose, a bit wild. Her eyes somehow calm and fierce at once.
“Your oath, Finbar. You won’t go back alone. You won’t move on this without me, without our circle. You aren’t alone and won’t act alone. Your word on it, here and now.”
