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“What of him?” she asks, waving her cup of coffee dismissively. “He’s gone now, one way or the other. Would you really trade all of this for a life back there? I mean, really, indoor plumbing alone should be enough to keep you here. You didn’t do a winter back then but trust me, using the loo in winter isnota good time.”
“I care about him.”
“And that doesn’t have to change.”
“Do you know if he survived?”
She smiles. “And if he did?”
“Then I want to go to him.”
She closes her eyes, and for the duration of the blink her face changes to something dark, like a photographic negative, as if for an instant she is reversed. It’s so fast I barely believe I saw it. When she opens her eyes, her smile is firmly in place.
“That is a choice,” she says. “Yours to make, I suppose.”
“But you want me to make a different choice.”
“I want you to look.”
“Look at what?” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “What do you think I’ve been doing? I’ve looked. The world is… broken. And somehow, for God knows what reason, it’s become my problem. As if I don’t have enough on my plate.”
“And?”
“And? And what? Why is it on me? All I wanted…” I trail off.
Closing my eyes, I look at what I want. What I really want. Duncan. That’s what I want. A chance to explore a relationship with a boy who made my heart beat faster. When I open my eyes and look at Moira there is a hag sitting in her place.
I lean away gasping, but she shimmers and looks like herself again. My skin tingles and power trickles into my core. Moira smiles and places a hand on my arm. Cold spreads from where she touches me as if she’s sucking the warmth from me.
I squint, trying to force myself to see clearly. There is a wavering outline surrounding her and tendrils of darkness flow into her. It looks like a mimicry of the human nervous system. Intertwining as they stretch out from her as the center. The black lines pulse with a life of their own. I trace the lines out to where they contact living things. Some dig into the grass, others reach the tree, and some are connected to the children.
As they pulse, life flows from the living things and into her. I watch in abject horror. The things that the dark veins touch don’t show any sign of being aware of what’s happening. The kids don’t look hurt but in my eyes they are duller.
There’s no other way to put what I see. Everything those dark tendrils touch is a little less vibrant. Less full of life. No, that’s not it. Less magical. She’s draining the magic from everything around her. And some of those tendrils are creeping towards me. I leap from my seat and back away.
ChapterTwenty-Six
“What are you doing?”I ask, swallowing revulsion.
Moira smiles, sitting calmly with her hands resting in her lap. She turns in her seat to fully face me, shaking her head. She sighs dramatically as her red curls bounce.
“Quinn, Quinn, Quinn,” she says, and her voice has a tinkling musical sound. “This is the way of things.”
“You’re feeding on them.”
“Of course I am,” she says, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “I do them no harm. In fact, I make the world better. You think this world would be possible without those like me?”
“What does that mean?”
She rises to her feet and saunters forward. She moves like a panther with a rolling, confident gait. She comes to a stop an arm’s length in front of me.
“All this technology, medicine, cars, all of it is because of us.”
“Us?”
She smiles. “Don’t play dumb. You know this. You’ve always known this.”
“Dugald says things like that.” Rage explodes like a volcano, blasting fire through my head, thoughts, and body. My hands ball into fists and what was a trickle of power into my core is now a roaring river. “What does it mean?”
