Page 104 of Wicching Hour

Robert looked over his shoulder, saw his children eating after expending so much magical energy, and cut the engine before bringing down the main sail. He was giving them time. Robert and Elizabeth were changing generational patterns. It made me hopeful for the future of this family.

Toxic behaviors had become the norm for Coreys over the ages. No wonder so many of us turned to black magic and sorcery.

“Why have we stopped?” Mom asked.

“He’s letting Frank and Faith recuperate before pushing them again.” I often had to remind myself, when my mom did something that appeared cold and unfeeling, that it was most likely because she was repeating how she’d always been treated and didn’t realize another way was possible.

With a short nod, she sat back, watching how Elizabeth pulled out bottles of water for each of her children. Mom stared at the bag a moment, as though unclear as to how her sister fit so much into it before her expression cleared. She, like me, had figured out that Elizabeth had spelled her purse, making it a true bag of holding. Who knew how much stuff she carried around on the regular in that small, tasteful bag.

Once the teens were done, Frank and Faith worked together to put the main sail back up and Robert got the boat moving faster again. Once done, Frank sat beside his mom, turned in his seat, and put one dark hand on the light wood at the edge of the boat. Eyes closed, he blew out a slow breath. After a moment, he nodded.

Bracken unsteadily got back up to talk with Robert, who had the map clipped above the wheel, beside his navigation instruments. Robert pointed at the map and then at a spot on what looked like a computer tablet.

Faith looked down at me, as Declan and I were still sitting on the deck. “It’s going to be this one, isn’t it?”

I saw the fear in her eyes and wished I could tell her everything would be okay. “I think so, yes.”

“And you, Uncle Bracken, and Declan are going to try to break in?” She leaned in harder against her mom.

I nodded.

“I’m going too,” Robert said.

“What?” Elizabeth’s voice was pitched high. She was doing a good job of appearing relaxed for her children, but she was terrified. “You need to drive the boat,” she protested.

The two shared a look and then Robert said, “You heard Arwyn. Your mom is bleeding out. They need a healer.”

I shook my head. “Wait. No. I didn’t see you in my vision. Only Bracken, Declan, and I go in.”

He barely glanced at me before putting his focus back where it belonged, the sea ahead. “You had that vision before you knew your Gran was dying. It would probably be different now.”

My visions didn’t rely on what I knew. He was right about one thing, though. We were going to need a healer.

Declan and I shared a look. Neither was feeling good about this new development. Robert had a family, a beautiful, loving one. We didn’t want to do anything to ruin that.

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders, every nightmare scenario no doubt racing through her mind.

“Can you captain the boat?” I asked. “Frank and Faith will be busy.”

She pasted on a smile that looked sickly around the edges. “Of course. We all can.” She stood, stowing her bag under her seat, and went to the wheel, where Robert and Bracken were checking the map against the dark shoreline, looking for the spot.

“There!” Bracken pointed to a black void between two houses that had dim lights in their windows.

Declan stood and pulled me up with him. He had the best eyes on the boat, so he could provide confirmation. Head pivoting like he was at a tennis match, he growled, “That’s it. It doesn’t want me looking at it, so it keeps pushing me away.”

“Orla said the same. It kept pushing her off course.” Now that we’d actually found it, my heart was in my throat. I’d be fine in the water. Declan, Bracken, and Robert were the ones who’d be risking their lives.

“Okay, Faith,” her father said. “We need to make sure. Give us a storm.”

Elizabeth took over the wheel and held Faith’s hand while her daughter called up a beaut. Her nerves must have been getting to her because hail bounced off my head before Declan blocked it, palming my skull.

“Sorry!” she called.

“Don’t worry about us,” I told her. “We’re fine. Focus on what you’re doing.”

Her braids bobbed as she nodded, pushing the storm toward the void in the shoreline.

FORTY-FIVE

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