I was standing in Ashling’s living room, right where I had been. The others were all there and everyone was looking at the sofa bed. Looking at the open eyes of the witch kid who was staring up into the green eyes of his wolf girl, blinking at the light.
“Ah, there ya are now. Ye was beginning to worry me, ye were,” Ashling said, moving over to examine her nephew.
“Aunt Ash! Ow. My head hurts,” he said, shutting his eyes. “My eyes hurt. Shit, even my skin hurts,” he said.
“What’s the matter with him?” Stacia demanded.
“Why, he’s alive. That’s what’s the matter with him. He should, on all accounts, be dead, but he’s not, so he hurts. ‘Tis a very good thing indeed,” Ashling said. There wasn’t much sympathy in her tone but at the same time, she was pulling a small bundle of cloth from her bag on the table. She tucked the bundle under Declan’s shirt, at the neckline in back, right where it met his skull, and he almost instantly relaxed.
“Better?” she asked.
He nodded, eyes shut again, which caused Stacia to look up at Ashling, eyes questioning.
“He’s oversensitized. That wee poppet will dull him down a bit and he can rest now without fear, my dear,” she said, patting the werewolf’s hand gently. Then her fingers touched Declan’s forehead and he slumped down, unconscious.
“Rest is best now. Who’s hungry?” the witch asked, looking around at the rest of us.
Holly, myself, and Devaney all perked up at the mention of food. Stacia looked reluctant but then her stomach rumbled. “Thank you, ma’am. That would be wonderful,” Mike West said.
“Come, sit here at this table. Ye can all keep an eye on him, but I promise ye he’s just sleeping. Darci, be a dear and bring out that soup, would ye?”
“Of course, dear,” Darci said, a relieved smile on her face as she withdrew to the kitchen.
The main eating table was right in the same open space as the living area, the dining and family room spaces delineated by furniture instead of walls. So we all had to just take a few steps to arrive at the big farm table.
Holly pulled out a chair for Stacia, for all the world like one of the wolves at Arcane getting a chair for Dellwood. Devaney sat next to me and across from Stacia, which left Holly sitting across from me. Mike West sat down on Devaney’s other side. Ashling joined her girlfriend and within just a few minutes, there were bowls and spoons on the table and a big pot of chowder in the middle. Darci brought a couple of round loaves of bread while Ashling ladled bowls full and passed them around. A crock of real butter with a knife sticking out of it was placed where most of us could reach it.
Stacia looked down at her bowl, not touching it. “He’ll be alright?” she asked, looking up at her boyfriend’s aunt.
“He’s past the danger point, dear. But as to how he’ll be… we’ll just have to see, now won’t we?” Ashling said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It’s like as if he were struck by a bolt of lightning, at least for a normal lad. I mean, lightning strikes don’t amount to much for that one, but say if Mr. West was struck by one, it could leave him… different. Declan tried to handle more power than any witch has ever been exposed to. Any Circle has ever been exposed to. By rights, he should have burned up and popped like a overwrought lightbulb,” Ashling said, shaking her head. “But of course, being who he is, he didn’t, now did he? But what I’m saying is that no one handles the likes of that and comes away unscathed.”
“We think the elemental took over and handled most of it,” Stacia said.
“Yes, that seems to be the only plausible explanation,” Omega said through the Bluetooth speaker.
“Did it now? That’s a bit of wonder then, isn’t it?” Ashling mused, expression very thoughtful.
“Are you saying that he could have burned out his powers?” Stacia asked.
“And if he did? How would you feel?”
Stacia pulled back a bit. “I don’t know. Happy he was alive? Why? Isn’t it more important how he would feel?”
“Oh, that I know, dear. He’d feel like his legs and arms were cut off,” Ashling said. “But if he’s lost all his gift, he’ll be needing your support more than ye can know. He’ll feel he has nothing, nothing of value. No offense, Mr. West.”
West had an artificial left leg, a war memento. He shrugged. “None taken, ma’am. But is that likely? That he’s burnt it out?”
She paused with a spoonful of soup halfway to her mouth. “I have no bloody idea,” she said, looking around the table and meeting each of our eyes. “Witches have over handled power before and either died, lived without powers, or in some cases, lived and regained what they had before. But no witch has ever been exposed to even a tiny bit of what he was.”
She put the spoon in her mouth and ate the soup. Then she looked back around at all of us. “We’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t we?”
“He always could channel more than other witches, couldn’t he?” I asked.
“Yes, yes he could. Likely why he’s alive right now, at least in part.”
“Ashling? Before, when we said Father had been helped by the Elemental, you expressed surprise and you sounded… thoughtful. What were you thinking?” Omega asked.
“Ye caught that, did ya? Well, I wasn’t going to say a word, you see, but when the witches of me clan are training wee witches to channel power, we often link with them. It helps them to feel how the spell works.”
“You’re saying the elemental did something similar?” Holly asked.
Ashling shrugged. “I dinnae know. It’s just interesting, ya see. All I know is that me nephew is alive. Anything beyond that is gravy.”
The first bowls of soup were already gone, spoons in the hands of Holly, Devaney, Stacia and myself all clanking on empty pottery within seconds of each other. Ashling didn’t bat an eye, immediately ladling out more while Darci put out another two loaves of dark grainy bread.
“Father always says to pay close attention to anything that catches your interest, Ashling,” the speaker said.
“And you listen to everything that young boy says, do ya?”
“I listen to everything he says. Some of his thoughts are normal human musings. But when it comes to the Craft, as he calls it, he is more often right than wrong.”
I found my head nodding in agreement and noticed Stacia doing the same. And she noticed me as well. She frowned and I felt my own frown form right back at her.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Sergei Vessier, Mr. White House Chief of Staff himself, asking for a status update. I lifted my head and found everyone looking at me.
“Yer masters in Washington will be wanting to know how he is,” Ashling said.
“They do,” I answered, setting the phone down on the tabletop. Then I remembered that she didn’t allow phones at the table and I put it in my lap.
“Well then, what will ye say?”
I met her eyes. “The truth. He’s alive, that he helped mitigate the quake. That pretty much sums up everything I know.”
“And about his powers?”
“Haven’t a clue. It would be all speculation until he wakes up. I have to get back, so I’m going to get Agent West to drive me back to the airport as soon as we’re done, so I won’t be here when he does wake up.”
“But aren’t ye curious?”
“Of course. But if my association with him and you has taught me anything, it’s that anything is possible where the two of you are concerned.”
“Humff,” she snorted. “Ye never had a touch of the blarney before, Caeco Jensen. Don’t be changing now.”
“No blarney. The history of the O’Carroll family is one of improbable events becoming common occurrences.”
“Caeco’s analysis is correct. Father skews probability outcomes as much as Mack and Jetta Sutton.”
“Well, yer welcome to stay if ye like. The hour’s getting late.”
“Ah, thank you, ma’am, but as Agent Jensen indicated, her jet is waiting at Burlington International to take her back,” Mike West said.
“Well then, I thank ya greatly, Caeco, for helping my lad. I know things have been rocky and all, but it’s a fine thing that ye both help the other when it’s needed.”
“Yeah, well. There’s not that many people in my orbit. We might not have been the right mix for each other, but like you said, I would never withhold my help. Thank you for dinner.”
“Yer most welcome dear. And thank you.”