Magic In The Storm (43 page)

“No. It’s good. It makes me feel happy and
secure.” She reached out for him and ran her hand down his arm. His
skin was warm and soft, just as it had been before, but she could
feel a tingle there as well. He took her hand in his, interlocking
their fingers. Small blue sparks began to dance around their
fingers.

Morgan’s eyes widened. “It’s you.”

“What’s me? Not this magic.”

“Yes. This magic. It’s you. It’s been you all
along.” He threw his head back and laughed right out loud. “Oh,
what a fool I am!” He swung back towards her. “You are the reason.
You are the one who gave me my powers!”

“What? How could that be?” This was too
confusing.

“You are Vallen Adriana, and you are the one
who has given me my powers.”

Adriana stood and pulled on her chemise and
then her dress as she thought about this. “I don’t understand. How
could I be Vallen? Wouldn’t I have known it? Wouldn’t I have been
able to feel it or something?”

Morgan reached for his breeches. “I don’t
know. But I realized it the minute I saw your painting of
Stonehenge. It was filled with such magic! Like all of your work, I
could feel everything about the place—the way it smelled, the air,
and even how you felt as you’d painted it. It’s magic, Adriana,
your art is your magic.”

Somehow this made sense to Adriana. More
sense than anything else anyone had ever said about her work. It
felt right. “But even if I am Vallen, how could I have possibly
given you such incredible powers. I don’t have powers like that,
surely.”

Morgan pulled his shirt on and then began to
pace back and forth in front of the stones. “No, but it makes
sense. The more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I’ve loved you,
the more powerful I’ve become,” he said, thinking this through.

“But I’m not powerful...”

He stopped and turned toward her. “Yes,
Adriana, you are, but that’s not the point.” He stood directly in
front of her and cradled her face in his hands. “The point is your
love for me and mine for you. It was that—our love—which has caused
my powers to increase.”

The rumble of carriage wheels interrupted
them. Morgan jumped away to finish dressing while Adriana quickly
packed up what was left of their picnic.

S
oon enough, the
carriage pulled up to where Morgan and Adriana were standing.
Morgan took a step forward and was very pleasantly surprised when
Mr. Kean, followed by Lord Byron, climbed down.

It was amazing to see that they glowed softly
just like Adriana. He’d thought it was just Adriana because she was
special to him, but now that he saw Byron and Kean, he understood
it was their magic that made them all glow in this way.

“Vallentyn,” Lord Byron said, as if it was no
great surprise to see him here, “good to see you. And Miss Hayden.”
He took Adriana’s hand and lifted it to his lips.

“Lord Byron! Mr. Kean! What a pleasant
surprise,” Adriana said.

“Shouldn’t be too much of a surprise,” Byron
said, giving her a smile. “I am certainly not surprised to see you
here.”

“You’re not?” she asked.

“It was clear as daylight that you were one
of us,” Mr. Kean said, making a grand gesture with his hands.

“We didn’t know if anyone else would be
here,” Morgan said.

“But of course others are coming!” Mr. Kean
said, expansively. “It is the summer solstice, after all.”

“Is this a common thing, to come to
Stonehenge on the solstice?” Morgan asked.

“Not really,” Lord Byron answered. “First
time I’m here. How about you, Edmund?” he asked, turning to Mr.
Kean.

“Yes, absolutely, first time. But we were
called here, were we not?”

“Called here?” Adriana asked.

“By the dream,” he explained.

“You had the same dream Adriana and I had?”
Morgan asked, amazed that such a thing could happen. He had thought
only Adriana and he had shared this dream. But now he began to
wonder how many others had had it too.

“That’s how we knew to come,” Lord Byron
answered.

“How many do you think will be here?” Adriana
asked.

“I honestly don’t know.” Byron turned to look
down the road from the direction he had come. “But it looks as if
others are beginning to arrive, so we should soon find out. If you
will excuse me?” he said, turning to his driver. He gave the man
some instructions, then moved out of the way as the coach turned
around and headed back the way it had come.

Two more people arrived on horseback from the
other direction, and then the coach they had seen approaching
arrived. Some came alone, others in pairs like Byron and Kean. Some
were cloaked to hide their identities, but others showed themselves
boldly as Adriana and Morgan did. Each one had their own particular
glow, some stronger than others, each in varying colors as
individual as the people themselves.

Morgan was surprised to recognize Jack the
Lad among those who arrived on horseback. He seemed to be moving
about more slowly, as if he were stiff or in pain. Most of the
others he didn’t know. No one introduced themselves. Eleven people
had arrived as it came closer to midnight.

Some had already started for the standing
stones, milling about just outside of the circle. Morgan, Adriana,
Byron and Kean were about to move in that direction when one last
coach approached. Out of curiosity, they stayed closer to the road
to see who the last arrivals might be.

Kat was the first to descend from the coach.
Morgan noticed she glowed a beautiful soft pink, and realized the
color a Vallen glowed must have something to do with their powers,
although, so far, no two Vallen he had yet seen, glowed exactly the
same color.

As soon as Kat’s feet were on the ground, she
went straight to him. “Oh, Morgan! I’m so glad to see you here!”
she said, grasping his hands.

Conflicting anger and love waged a silent
battle in Morgan’s heart and mind. Kat had been the one to tell
Adriana about Sarah Jordan. She had attached the strings that had
pulled them apart, but he began to think that it wasn’t she who was
operating them. He set aside his hurt for now. “It’s good to see
you too, Kat.”

There was a deep rumble of thunder followed
immediately by a flash of lightning that lit the night sky. More
lightning and thunder followed as his mother stepped regally from
her carriage.

“Morgan!” his mother hissed. Her eyes flipped
to Jack the Lad who was standing with his arms crossed and his legs
in an aggressive wide stance behind Adriana. His mother glowed the
brightest of anyone Morgan had yet seen, but her color was an
unpleasant stark white.

“Good evening, Mother,” Morgan said, bowing
his head.

“And Miss Hayden,” she said, with
unmistakable malice.

Adriana took a step closer to Morgan before
bobbing her a small curtsey. “Good evening, Lady Vallentyn.” She
turned to his cousin, and gave her a smile. “Hello, Kat.”

“Are you surprised to see me?” Morgan asked
his mother.

“No, why should I be?” she asked, raising her
chin.

“Because you tried to have me killed last
night,” he said loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear.

Kat gasped.

“Morgan! How could you even say such a
thing?” Suddenly his mother was the gentle, caring mother she had
never been to him. “You’re my son, why would I...”

“Who did you get to do it?” Morgan turned and
faced Jack. “Was it you? And who else?”

Jack just shifted his weight from one foot to
the other, but said nothing.

“Morgan, you are talking nonsense,” his
mother began again.

“You wanted me dead so that Kat could take my
place here tonight. You will be brought to justice,” he said before
turning and walking into the center of the circle.

The others joined him, standing silently
around, some closer, others farther away in the shadows of the
stones. For a moment, Morgan stood there and knew that this was
Adriana’s painting.

The silence of the night, the cool air
shifting softly around him and the deep feeling of magic. Morgan
glanced at Adriana standing nearby, but not directly at his side
and he knew exactly what it was he had been missing in Adriana’s
painting.

It was Adriana herself. And it was their
love. That’s what he had needed. Without both of those, he would
not be ready to attain his destiny. It wasn’t pure magical power
that gave him the right to be here, it was love and the wholeness
that it brought him.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to the one
who should have loved him. A mother’s unconditional love was the
one thing that had been lacking his whole life. It had been the
hole in his soul. It had been what had kept him from developing his
full powers from childhood.

And yet, he had no choice but to face his
mother now.

She approached him in great solemnity,
holding out Merlin’s chalice in front of her. There was no love in
her heart for him. There was only disappointment, touched with
anger. It saddened Morgan, but it couldn’t be helped.

The night became absolutely still as they all
stood about the circle of stones. Not even a cricket or the hooting
of an owl could be heard as they formed a broadly spaced circle
with Morgan and his mother in the center. The moon glowed full and
bright directly overhead, bathing the scene with an ethereal light.
In absolute silence, his mother approached.

Raising the chalice to the night, she began
to intone:

‘Neath the moon’s warm silvery
cloak,

We, Thy true coven, Thee do invoke

This midsummer night, please give Thy
grace

For our blest rite, in hallowed place.

Come all to bear witness this night

As you watch this sacred rite

It is to him allegiance is owed

Time, strength and bloodline all have
showed.

Like the North wind born from frozen
floes,

And lightning torn from stormy throes,

As green stalks fill then burst with
grain

Let this one child be born again.

Slowly she lowered her arms, and then, with a
wistful glance to Kat, she held the chalice to Morgan’s lips.

He placed his hands over hers and stared down
into the cup. Once again filled with that sweet scented water,
Merlin’s face smiled up at him as he took a sip.

The taste was as clean as a spring day, warm
and yet refreshing. But then his blood began to burn. Fire flowed
through his veins, scorching him from the inside out and the horrid
thought that his mother had poisoned him flashed through his mind.
But no, as soon as the hot pain had begun, it was immediately
followed by the cold of ice. That too spread through his body
making him shiver violently. Then slowly, his temperature returned
to normal.

And that was when he could feel it. A power
like no other coursed through his veins. It was white hot and
burning cold. It doused him with fire and brought a wholesome
breath of earth and air to his lungs. He was all of the elements
and more.

He turned and looked at Adriana. Her eyes
shone with love for him and he felt that same love for her deep
within him, mixing and blending in with his magic making him
stronger.

He held out his hands to her. She took them
and as she did so, her eyes widened. She seemed to swell with magic
at his touch, the glow around her brightened perceptively.

“It is you who has given me what I needed to
come here tonight,” he said.

Her smile radiated from her face, even as she
shook her head. “It is your strength, Morgan. The love you feel,
not only for me, but for others. The desire you have to care for
those in need. You are truly good.”

The thought of good and evil made him turn
back to his mother. She was still standing there, holding the
chalice looking forlorn.

“You did wrong, Mother,” he said. The sadness
inside of him was nearly as painful as the love he felt for Adriana
was wonderful. “You should not have used your magic to try to stop
this. You know that.”

“It is not for you to judge and punish her,
Morgan,” Merlin’s voice said, from within the cup.

Morgan looked at the chalice. His mother held
it away from herself and Morgan wondered if he should take it.

“Then who should? Is it you?” Morgan
asked.

“No. Normally, it is the job of the high
priest or priestess to meet out such punishments and make such
judgments. But you are the Seventh, so for your time, that job will
fall to the Sixth.”

“The sixth? Do you mean my sister, Caroline?”
Morgan couldn’t believe it. “Sir, Caroline is a sweet and gentle
person, but she’s, well, a little simple, shall we say?” Morgan
said as gently as he could.

“Caroline’s not simple!” his mother
argued.

Morgan gave her a look. “Caroline’s never had
a thought of her own.”

“No, but that doesn’t make her simple.”

Merlin’s laughter broke into their
conversation. “It is not your sister of whom I speak, but your
cousin. The sixth child of the sixth child of the seventh
generation. Katrina.”

Morgan, and everyone else, turned to look at
Kat. She took a step backward away from Morgan and the chalice.

“Me? But I don’t want...”

“It is not what you want, Katrina, it is what
you are meant to do,” Merlin’s voice sounded like that of a stern
father. “Morgan take the chalice. Katrina, do what you know must be
done.”

Morgan did as he was told, and took the
chalice from his mother’s grasp. For a moment, he thought she
wouldn’t give it up, but with a pursing of lips and a lift of her
chin she turned toward Kat, prepared to face her punishment.

Nervously, Kat stepped forward. Taking her
aunt’s hands in her own, she looked deeply into her eyes. “I’m so
sorry.” And then very gently she touched her lips to her
aunt’s.