Blood Witch_ Book Three - Cate Tiernan [39]
I felt pleased that he had trusted me. “Well, I’m Woodbane,” I said awkwardly.
David grinned without prejudice. “It’s good to know what you are,” he said. “The more you know, the more you know.”
I laughed at that and drank my tea.
“Are there any ways to really identify the clans?” I asked after a moment. “I read that Leapvaughns tend to have red hair.”
“It’s not incredibly reliable,” David answered. The phone rang, and he cocked his head for a moment, concentrating, then didn’t answer it. In the back room I heard the answering machine pick it up.
“For example, lots of Burnhides have dark eyes, and lots of them tend to go gray early.” He gestured to his own silvery hair. “But that doesn’t mean every dark-eyed, gray-haired person is a Burnhide nor that all Burnhides look like this.”
I had a sudden thought. “What about this?” I asked, and pulled up my shirt to show him the birthmark on my side, under my right arm. My need to know outweighed my embarrassment.
“Yeah, the Woodbane athame,” David said matter-of-factly. “Same thing. Not all of you have them.”
It was somehow shocking to hear so casually that I had been marked this way my whole life, marked with the symbol of a clan, and that I had never known.
“What about . . . the International Council of Witches?” I asked, my brain following a series of thoughts.
The brass bells over the door jangled, and two girls about my age came in. Without deliberately deciding to, I sent out my senses and picked up the fact that they seemed nonmagickal: just girls. They walked through the store slowly, whispering and laughing, looking at all the merchandise.
“It’s an independent council,” David said softly. “It’s designed to represent all the modern clans—there are hundreds and hundreds who aren’t affiliated with any of the seven houses. Its main function is to monitor and sometimes punish the illegitimate use of magick . . . magick used to gain power over others, for example, or to interfere with others without their knowledge or agreement. Magick used to harm.”
I frowned. “So they’re sort of like the Wicca police.”
David raised his eyebrows. “There are those who see the council that way, certainly.”
“How do they know if someone is using magick for the wrong reasons?” I asked. Behind us the girls had left the book aisle and were now oohing and aahing over the many beautiful handmade candles the store stocked. I waited to hear them come across the penis-shaped candles.
“Oh my God,” whispered one, and I grinned.
“There are witches within the council who specifically look for people like that,” David explained. “We call them Seekers. It’s their job to investigate claims of dark magick or misuse of power.”
“Seekers?” I said.
“Yeah. Wait a second. I can tell you more about them.” David ducked out from the counter and headed down the book aisle. He paused for a moment in front of a shelf, then chose an old, worn volume and pulled it out. He was already thumbing through pages when he got back to me. “Here,” he said. “Listen to this.”
I stared at him as he began to read, sipping my tea.
“ ‘I am sad to say that there are those who do not agree with the wisdom and purpose of the High Council. Some clans exist who wish to remain separate, secretive, and insulated from their peers. Certainly no one could fault a clan for guarding private knowledge. We all agree that a clan’s spells, history, and rituals are their province alone. But we have seen in these modern times that it is wise to join together, to share as much as we can, to create a society in which we can fully participate and celebrate with others of our own kind. This is the purpose of the International Community of Witches.’ ”
He paused for a moment and glanced at me.
“That sounds like a good thing,” I said.
“Yes,” he said, but there was an odd tone in his voice. His eyes flashed back down to the page. “ ‘One