The Gift of Magic

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Morgan stared at Devon, her mouth hanging open, a bite of pie half way there. “You what?” She asked, setting her fork down.

“I've been dreaming about you since I was twelve. Although I didn't know it was you until just recently.” Devon said, very aware that every eye was on him. “I didn't tell you when we met on the beach that day because I thought it would scare you.”

“It does.” Morgan said, pushing her chair back and grabbing the dirty plates off the table and heading for the kitchen.

Peter started to follow her, but Isobel put her hand on his arm and stopped him. “Give her a few minutes.” She said, then turned to Devon. “And why didn't you tell me?”

“Same reason. I couldn't imagine you'd be very happy to find out that Malcolm Bradbury's son has been dreaming about your granddaughter.” Devon said, sitting back in his chair ready for her anger.

Isobel considered that for a second, then asked, “What's changed?”

“I realize now that it was a mistake not to tell you from the very beginning, but when I saw Morgan that day, I panicked. You have to understand that I've spent most of my life dreaming about her and this place, but it's only been recently that I could remember any of the dream.” Devon said, getting up from the table and going to the window.

“I've been moving from place to place for years, unable to settle anywhere. From the moment I stepped onto the island I felt it pull at me, then Morgan appeared behind you that first night and I didn't know what to do. I just couldn't risk you throwing me off the island.” He said, then walked back to his chair and sank down, sure that his time on the island was done.

Isobel studied him for a long time, looking for any sign of deception, when she could find none, she said, “I believe that you're telling us the truth, I just hope this time that's it's the entire truth.” Then stared at him for a few minutes, then seemed to come to a decision. “The question now is what role you're supposed to play in her life. Do you know anything about her?”

“Only what I've been able to gather from the islanders and that's been very little.” Devon said, hope blossoming in his chest.

“Well, it's quite a story, but it's not mine to tell.” Isobel said to Devon, then turned to Peter. “Will you go see where Morgan is, she should be part of this conversation.”

Peter returned only a few minutes later, but he was alone. “Morgan said that she didn't feel well and went to bed.” He said, sitting down at the table again.

“Well then it looks like we'll have to postpone this discussion for a later time.” Isobel said, then added. “Devon for now you're welcome to stay on the island. Give her some time, she'll come around.” Devon knew that it was time for him to leave, the night had gone better than he’d expected, and he didn't want to push his luck.

As soon as the front door closed behind him, Isobel got up and began clearing the table. “Help me do this and then we'll talk.” She said, pushing through the swinging door to the kitchen.

Peter grabbed what was left and followed her into the kitchen, unsure how he felt about Devon Bradbury dreaming about his cousin, or the way he'd looked at her that night. It reminded him of what a hungry wolf might look like, and made him extremely nervous. But he'd wait for his grandmother to open the conversation, she was humming to herself as she washed dishes and he knew that she was deep in thought. When they were finished, she poured them both a cup of coffee and set them on the table.

“I suppose the best place to start is with what we've learned tonight.” Isobel said.

“The dreams fit the prophecy, that part seems clear but what I don't like is that he's Malcolm's son. If he was anyone else I'd embrace him willingly.” Peter said.

“I agree and there's the little issue of the grimoire, his family's grimoire. It's hard to believe that it's a coincidence that they both showed up at the same time, and that Morgan is a part of this as well. A small part of me is worried that he somehow found out that she had the book and he's followed her here to get it.” Isobel, got up and began to pace.

“I've thought of that too, but he's never mentioned it. If what he says is true and his father has nothing to do with him, he might not even know about it.” Peter said.

“Which brings us back to him being here to fulfill Thomas's prophecy.” Isobel said, sinking into her chair again.

“If he's the man Thomas said would be coming to guide and teach Morgan then we can't stand in the way of that.” Peter said, bringing things around full circle.

“But then we're back to where we started. Can we trust that Devon's not here working for his father?” Isobel voiced the question that they had to answer first.

“I don't think we have any choice, but the grimoire stays secret for now.” Isobel said.

“What about Morgan? She was pretty upset, it can't be a good feeling to hear that you've been staring in someone's dreams for years.”

“I wouldn't worry about that too much, Morgan will come around.” Isobel said, with a little smile on her face. “Didn't you notice the way she was looking at him, there's something between them, a connection that may go deeper than we think. It's the one thing that makes me think that Devon is the man we've been waiting for, that he's the key to unlocking the power inside Morgan.”

The next day Morgan was feeling ridiculous, she was standing in the middle of a dirt clearing outside of town, a stick in her hand tracing magical symbols in the dirt. Peter had brought her out here hours ago and told her not to come back until she could do them all perfectly which would have been fine, but she found that drawing precisely in the dirt was more difficult than she'd imagined. She was having an especially hard time with circles, no matter how hard she tried, they always came out lopsided or oblong.

When she threw the stick down in frustration and stomped on the ground after another failed attempt, she heard laughter from the trees. “Who's there?” She demanded, feeling even sillier.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed, but it's not very often you see a grown woman throwing a fit like that.” Devon said, coming out of the trees.

“Have you been watching me?” Morgan asked, narrowing her eyes at him, her heart pounding in her chest at the sight of him, but her mind telling her to beware.

“No, I just walked up when you threw that stick.” He said, looking at the ground around them. “I see you've been practicing.”

Morgan backed down a little, couldn't help herself when he got closer and that feeling of comfort and recognition washed over her. “Yeah, but as you can see it's not doing me any good.” She said, pointing to all her failed circles.

“I think maybe you just need a few pointers.” Devon said, picking up the stick and making a perfect circle around her.

“So, you're an expert circle maker.” She said, unable to hide the smile that crept across her face.

Devon's heart thumped faster when she smiled, “I'm an expert at a lot of things, but circle making is one that I'm most proud of.” He said, grinning.

Sever hours later, they were both sweaty, tired and hungry, but Morgan could make the biggest circle she'd ever need and make it come out perfectly every time. She'd also learned how to add a pentagram and the theory behind each point of the star, each new thing Devon taught her brought her new understanding of who she was and what it meant to be a witch. So, by the time they finally sat down under the shade of a tree, she was feeling much better, less confused about magic and how it worked. As hard as Peter had tried, he'd been unable to convey in a week what Devon had taught her in a few hours.

Morgan had come prepared, thanks to her grandmother who had sent her out of the house with what had appeared to be enough food for three people, and as she dug out sandwiches she began to wonder if she'd known that she'd need the extra food. She'd already learned that living on the island meant that people often knew things a head of time, it had taken some getting used to at first, but now she was glad.

“You're a good teacher.” She said, handing him a soda and a sandwich.

“You're a good student.” Devon said, then looked over at her, “I've been wanting to ask you something.”

Morgan looked at Devon, her heart doing a little flip flop when his blue eyes met hers. “Okay.” She whispered, unable to utter more than that.

“Why don't you already know all this?” He asked, gesturing to the circles in the dirt. “What happened to you?”

Morgan looked away, shocked that he didn't know the story. “Oh, Morgan I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked, I mean it doesn't matter.”

She sighed, and looked back over at him. “It's a long story, I just assumed you knew. I mean your dad…” She couldn't finish.

Devon looked at her confused, “What does my dad have to do with this? I don't know my father, only met him when I was twelve and it was exactly a friendly meeting.”

“You mean you don't know?”

Devon was beginning to get impatient, “Can you just tell me, I really don't know.” He said.

“I'll try, but some of it still isn't all that clear to me. I've been getting the story in bits and pieces myself.” Morgan said, trying to figure out where to start. “I guess the whole thing goes back to your father and mine, well it might have started sooner than that, but for me it was then.”

“Your father and my father knew each other?” Devon asked, getting a weird feeling inside.

“Yes, and I guess at some point what had once been a great friendship turned bad. Your father wanted my mother and this coven. He challenged my father for the coven, a formal challenge. On the night they were supposed to meet, your father had me kidnapped.” She answered, her hands shaking a little bit as a memory of that night began to surface.

Devon stared at her shocked, “I had no idea. What happened?”

“Well, obviously I was rescued.” Morgan said, then paused as the fragments of memory began to coalesce in her mind. She sucked in a deep breath when the memory came together, that night fresh in her mind as it had never been.

“What's wrong?” Devon asked, concerned.

“I remember that night now, for a long time I thought it was all a dream. I was only four at the time, it was easy to believe that it wasn't real, my mother told me that often enough I guess I just started believing it.” She said closing here eyes to let the memories wash over her.

“Were you scared?” Devon asked, not sure what to say, horrified that his father was the cause of Morgan's problems.

“That's the funny thing, I don’t remember being scared. I remember fighting at first but then I realized that it was an angel taking me from my room. The angel took me to a very pretty lady. She had the most beautiful hair, it was long and very blonde, it was so soft and her eyes, they were the prettiest blue, when I looked into them I knew that I was going to be okay.” Morgan smiled remembering the woman.

Devon could only stare at her again, the woman she'd just described could be no one but his mother. “I think that was my mother.” He finally said.