Darkmoon(79)

“Probably not,” I admitted to my father, after a hesitation I was pretty sure everyone noticed.

“Many times I’ve had to counsel patience,” the old man said in his slow, deep voice. “Andre knew what was at stake, and yet he chafed at the waiting, wishing he could go to you.”

“With all due respect,” Connor cut in, “maybe you could explain that a bit better. You expect Angela to break the curse? Why her?”

“Because it was this purpose for which she was born.”

I looked from the old man — whose name I still didn’t know — to my father, who was regarding me with a deep sadness in his eyes. At first I couldn’t quite figure out where that sadness had come from, but then the realization seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep inside me, perhaps the well of knowledge that seemed to be joined to my growing powers.

“That’s why you went to California, isn’t it?” I whispered.

He nodded, the sadness now tinged with pride. “Yes. Lawrence, my great-uncle” — he nodded toward the old man, and I realized how old Lawrence must be if he truly was my great-great-uncle — “told me of what he had seen in the movements of the stars, what he’d heard in the wind. The time was coming when at last the curse could be broken, but only if I could turn away from the woman of my heart and go to the one who was destined to bear the curse-breaker. That child needed to be born of a witch with the strength to be prima, even though your mother had denied what was supposed to be her own destiny.”

The woman of his heart. That would be Marie Wilcox, I supposed. “So, what…you just dumped Marie and shacked up with my mother to fulfill a prophecy?”

A wince, but he didn’t look away from me, didn’t try to deny it. “I had to think of the greater good. And your mother was a lovely woman, full of her own strength and fire. I couldn’t love her the way I loved Marie, but I did care for her.”

Pretty words. I wasn’t sure I believed them, though. How could I believe them?

Actually, in that moment I wasn’t sure what I did believe.

“Well, this all sounds very noble,” Connor said, and I could hear the edge of disbelief in his voice as well. “But…why? I mean, we Wilcoxes didn’t do so well by the Navajo back in the day. So why should you care whether the curse continues or not?”

Lawrence’s piercing dark gaze rested on Connor for a moment, and then he smiled for the first time, showing teeth so straight and white I guessed they had to be false. “The sort of question a Wilcox would ask, I suppose. So little trust among you, even now, when you are the masters of your own kingdom down there in Flagstaff.” Beside me, Connor stiffened, but the old man appeared not to notice. “You ask why. I will tell you it is because the order, the balance of things, has been upset, and must be righted. Whatever happened all those years ago, it was between Nizhoni and Jeremiah Wilcox, and should have stayed between them. What she did brought dishonor upon all of us, using her gifts in such a way.”

“Nizhoni?” I repeated. “That was her name — the Navajo woman Jeremiah married, I mean?”

“Yes, Nizhoni was of the Diné, although she came to live with the Wilcoxes.”

“Deen-eh?” I questioned, sounding it out.

“The true name of the Navajo,” my father said quietly.

My head was spinning. Maybe in time I’d be able to absorb all this, but right now I was starting to feel more than a little overloaded. “Okay,” I said. “So you think I’m the one to break the curse. How exactly am I supposed to do that? I mean, Damon Wilcox failed miserably at it, and he was a hell of a lot smarter than I can ever hope to be.”

“He was intelligent, but he was not wise,” Lawrence replied calmly. “He thought to use power for his own ends, and showed no respect for the ways of others. He was warned, but he did not listen. I do not think you are as foolish.”

Connor shifted, the leather couch creaking under his weight. Although he didn’t say anything, I could tell that Lawrence’s words had upset him; he released my hand and crossed his arms, a scowl pulling at his brow despite his best efforts to erase it.

“You may try to defend your brother, if you wish,” the old man said, apparently missing none of this. “But you know in your heart of hearts that what I say is true.” Incongruously, his eyes twinkled. “And it is also true that you will make a far better primus than he.”

“Leaving that aside for now,” I broke in, since I could tell that my great-great-uncle’s remark had done nothing to mollify Connor…rather, the reverse, “could you share a little of your wisdom with me and help me understand how this curse-breaking is supposed to work?”