Page 192 of A Winding Wave of Magic
“All that for a piece of paper?” I reached into the box and took out a browned and brittle bit of writing no wider than my hand.
“Parchment, I think. But what is that?” Jonathan asked, coming to stand next to me. “It looks like runes.”
Caitlin and Robbie soon joined us.
“It looks a bit like Ogham,” Robbie said. “Primitive Irish, developed with the arrival of Christianity in Ireland.”
“Maybe,” I corrected him. “Some scholars think it was developed early as a way for the druids to pass messages that couldn’t be understood by the Romans.” I eyed the sheet curiously. “Jonathan’s right—this is parchment. It’s incredibly old. And it doesn’t really look like the Ogham I’ve seen in books.”
Gingerly, I turned the bit over and back, as if searching for something else. Fragmented memories floated through my fingers, but it was impossible to get anything clear from them. I needed water. Maybe earth. And above all, I needed time.
“There’s none for that, Cassandra,” Caitlin said, having read my thoughts. “You’re supposed to be on your way to England within the hour.”
“We’ll take it with us,” Jonathan said. “On our way to the Brigantian, Cass and I can stop at Trinity. Rachel’s there. She may know what to do with this, and she can keep it safe during our visit.”
“Do you really want to bring the Order into this, Jon?” Robbie asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t think we have a choice anymore.”
“Cardy?” I asked. “The scholar from…”
“When you and I first met? Yes, that’s correct.” His mouth crooked again with a bit more warmth. “Do you know, that night, she said I’d never be able to let you go? I didn’t believe her, but I do now.”
The hairs on the back of my arm stood up as the memory of his electric pull even then struck me.
Then something else occurred to me. “Isn’t the Brigantian the school for sorcerers? Why are we going there?”
Jonathan and Robbie traded grimaces.
“Because,” Jonathan said. “The Brigantian is where the Council meets. They oversee the training of sorcerers and make their decisions based on what they learn.”
I looked at Robbie. “You’re on faculty there. Are you on the?—”
“Council?” Robbie shook his head with a shudder. “Gods, no. But I know some who are. And while we’ve bought you some time…it’s true what Caitlin says. You cannot be late. Not if you value your future with them.”
I swallowed. This was all going too fast. And yet, as I cradled the parchment, some rush of unknown knowledge floated through me. A feeling more than a vision. That this was in fact the next step I was meant to take.
“All right,” I said. “To the Brigantian we go.”
PART V
THE BRIGANTIAN
53
OF KISSES AND CURSES
Do you lock yourself up from me to make me more curious?
— WILLIAN CONGREVE,THE WAY OF THE WORLD
“Idon’t think you need Yeats on this trip, Cass. It’s only for a few days.”
Jonathan stood in the doorway of my bedroom, hands braced on the lintel while he watched me pack the few things I’d need to meet the Council of the Magi.
So far, my inventory included a change of clothes, a dress for my appearance, toiletries and pajamas, my journal, andThe Wanderings of Oisin.and Other Poems.
We had waited an extra day to leave. While Caitlin remained anxious about us arriving on time, the fact was that once we were off the island, the bulk of the trip would only take a few relatively short steps: two hours to Dublin from Galway, another private flight to Newcastle upon Tyne, and from there, a completely reasonable drive into Northumberland.
