There were five women in Wickham’s life who helped him feel…grounded. Ivy grounded his soul. His sisters grounded him to his past and tried to ground him to his duty. And Soni grounded him to his children, since she was, in many ways, one of them. And the last was Lennon.
Since the moment he’d laid eyes on her in that miserable café in Idaho, she’d proven to have a calming effect on him he couldn’t describe. She inspired…hope…in a man from whom hope had been stripped time after time after time.
That was it. She supplied a hope he couldn’t define, and he had to own that only part of it had to do with the power of theSeanairthat dwelt inside him.
Standing there on the beach that morning, planning to relieve an innocent child of a monstrous power, he wished he could have had Lennon and his wife with him. For without them, he felt more vulnerable, less confident than he had in the previous ceremony, where he’d taken the powers of Art and Fertility from Felicity and Rinky.
If Lennon were there, he wouldn’t be wasting so much of his mental power worrying about her. Just where had that Fae taken her? And if and when Griffon Carew brought her back, would she resemble the lass he’d plucked from Idaho?
That was yet to be seen. At the moment, he had to move fast before Fallon changed her mind.
Wickham stepped out ofPlace, returned to the hotel room, and collected a special gift that Ivy had wrapped for the child. He also grabbed the second to the last of the jars. The one with the pink cast seemed appropriate. The final jar, of course, was ready in case Persi decided to surrender her power of Light, which may or may not happen. If he were able to get the rest of the Naming Powers away from Orion, he’d need three more containers in a hurry.
He wondered if Persi knew what she was inviting by resisting. Orion would obviously come for her if she insisted on keeping her power, but Wickham wasn’t foolish enough to point it out. She’d have to learn the hard way. He just prayed she’d come around before the inevitable…
Back in the cove, he placed the jar on a table and faced a nervous little girl. She stood in the center of a pack of women who all seemed determined to take her side if she changed her mind again.
Rinky spoke for them. “You can let her play first, can’t you?”One last time, was implied.
“Certainly,” he said. “There’s nae rush, lass. Go and play with the sea for a bit.”
And so they watched, the entire team, while a five-year-old child pushed and pulled the ocean water with little more than a wave of her hand and a giggle. And while she played, they all came to understand just how much power was involved, and how powerless they were in the face of it.
When the waves swelled and hovered at thirty feet, some nameless grief ripped Wickham’s heart out of his chest! He held his breath and waited for something, anything, to break Fallon’s grasp on him. Then finally, when the waves were released to the influence of gravity and crashed onto the beach, spilling and splashing its salty mist over them, he felt such relief, such hope, he wept.
This power in one so young? She could destroy the world!
After three more cycles of manipulation, he looked around the cove to find each of his friends wet-faced and weeping, with joy or otherwise, looking to him to bring a stop to it.
“Fallon,” he shouted, over the crash of water. “Fallon, time for presents!”
Her head whipped around, and she glared at him, her bright blue eyes overshadowed from within. But if he’d learned nothing else from being a father, he’d learned no child of any age could resist the temptation of an unexpected gift.
By degrees, the water behind Fallon settled, as did the emotions washing through his own body. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, and finally, she smiled. The blue of her eyes lightened, and she headed away from the edge of the water, though it tried to follow her and lure her back again, like a lovesick dog begging her not to go.
Wickham held out the brightly colored gift with the sparkling ribbon on top. The lass ran the rest of the way. “Ye may hold it a moment, but ye cannae open it until we’ve finished the ceremony, ye ken?”
“Aye, aye,” she said, pulling the large box from his hand. “Auch! So heavy!”
“This is no mere gown, though that will be yers as well. We just have to see to this first.”
She nodded and when Wickham held out his hands, she reluctantly surrendered the box.
“I’m going to ask ye some questions, Fallon, so listen well.”
She nodded again.
The team assembled in a semi-circle in front of the chairs. No one bothered to sit. Before joining his wife, Urban handed the Grandfather’s staff to Wickham.
Wickham pointed it at the pile of wood. which erupted into white flame. He stood to the right of the fire as Annag took Fallon by the hand and led her to the opposite side. Loretta and Lorraine moved behind their brother, supportive as ever, ready for anything. He thumped the staff once and summoned the protection of the Muir ancestors.
He was always surprised when they came to him, no matter how worthy he might consider himself. And they rose again, their presence swirling around him, encompassing the fire, Fallon, and her escort.We are here. We are willing. We are ready,they whispered.
He pounded the ground again, three times. “Fallon Mackay, do ye surrender yer Naming Powers of Hope and Despair…for the greater good, with all the contracts and conditions with which ye might have multiplied those powers?”
Fallon tilted her head to see the gift sitting on the edge of the table next to the open jar, then she nodded. “Yes.”
“Do ye give it freely and without compulsion?”