Seeker [Sweep 10] by Cate Tiernan

Author:Cate Tiernan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Morgan (Fictitious Character : Tiernan), Occu< Fiction, Fiction, Morgan (Fictitious Character), Teenagers - Conduct of Life, Body, Morgan (Fictitious Character: Tiernan), Witchcraft & Wicca, Mind & Spirit, Occult, Social Issues, Young Adult Fiction, Magic, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Friendship, Good and Evil in Literature, Occultism, Witchcraft, Teenagers, General, Fantasy, Good and Evil
ISBN: 9780142410257
Publisher: Puffin
Published: 2002-01-02T06:00:00+00:00

9

Fiona the Bright

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"You've got to talk to me!" I shouted. My father turned away and paced into the kitchen, his shoulders stiff, his gaunt face set with anger.

I followed him, crossing the tiny lounge in four big paces. A bleak sunshine was trying to stream through the newly washed windows, but it was weak and seemed incapable of entering this house of darkness, death, and despair.

"How could you possibly think it's all right?" I demanded, pursuing him. Ever since we had gotten home, I had been trying to get answers from him. He had retreated into cold silence, regarding me as from a distance, as if I were nothing more than an annoying insect. I had spent most of the night awake, pacing in front of the fireplace, sitting on the couch, rubbing the back of my neck. Da had been in his room-if he slept, I didn't know it. I would bet he did. Nothing much seemed to get to him. Certainly not my revolted reaction to hisbith dearc.

The next morning I jolted awake, slumped against the back of the couch, unaware of when I had fallen asleep.

Our ugly fight started again. He looked, several times, as though he wanted to say something, to explain himself, but couldn't. I was alternately cajoling, supportive, angry, insistent. I never let down my guard, never left him alone.

Seeing him in the kitchen, hunting through the cabinets for something to eat, through food I had supplied, filled me with fresh anger. I had been here five days, five awful, disappointing, shocking days. I'd had enough.

"When I got here, you could hardly walk," I pointed out, coming closer. My anger was starting to spiral out of control, but for once I didn't rigidly clamp it down. "Now you're stronger becauseI'vebeen taking care of you. And you're going out into the woods, to yourbith dearc. Are youmad?"

Daniel turned and looked at me, his eyes narrowed. I almost wanted him to explode, to show me a side of my old father, any side, even anger. He paused, his hand on a cupboard shelf, then looked away.

"What would Alwyn say if she saw you, if she knew about this?" I demanded. "This is what killed her brother."

He looked at me, something flickering behind his dull brown eyes. Answer me, just answer me, I thought.

"Please, stop," he said, sounding helpless. "You just don't understand."

"Explain it to me," I said, trying to calm down. "Explain why you've done this terrible thing."

"Itisterrible," he agreed sadly. "I know that."

"Then why do you do it?" I asked. "How could you take payment for contacting the dead?"

We were face-to-face in that cramped kitchen. I was taller than he and outweighed him; I was a young, strong, healthy man, and he was a broken wreck far older than his years. But there was something latent in him, a reserve of ancient power lying coiled within him, awaiting his need for it. I sensed this; I'm not sure if he did.

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