"What do the other coven members say?" I asked.

"I know some of them feel something's wrong," said Celia. "No one's said anything to me outright. The thing is, every once in a while it seems fine. It almost made me wonder if I was just imagining things or coming down with the flu myself."

"But I felt all the same things," Robin said. "And last week I heard someone else whisper a concern about it."

"If something negative is affecting all the coven members…we have to figure out what," Celia said firmly.

"We know Patrice is a good person," Robin put in quickly. "We just think she needs help, maybe."

I frowned, sipping my tea. This did not sound good. Of course, there might be some benign, rational explanation. And it would be wonderful if that were true. But instinctively I felt there was more to this.

"What is it you want me to do?" I asked carefully.

"We want you to…figure out what's going on," Celia said, and Robin nodded. "As a former Seeker, you would have investigative skills, knowledge about the different paths witches take, ideas about how to confront Patrice if it's necessary."

"If she's strayed a little, we can help her get back on the right path," Robin said.

"Or maybe just figure out how to protect her from herself," Celia suggested. "Or protect us from her. We don't know, really. We just know we need help."

"And we need to keep this very, very quiet," Robin said urgently. "We don't want you to go to the council, even if you have affiliations. Patrice is a good person. She just needs help."

I rubbed my chin while I thought. "I don't know whether I can promise that. If I discover that Patrice is involved in something dangerous…I'm no longer a Seeker, but I still have an obligation, as a blood witch with a conscience." I leaned back, and Celia and Robin both seemed to deflate a bit.

"Well…" Robin glanced at Celia hesitantly.

"We don't…we don't want anyone to be hurt," Celia assured me. "Perhaps…what if you make no promises, except that you won't harm anybody unnecessarily and you won't let anyone else be harmed?"

I sighed and considered her words. Well, at the very least, I could certainly track down more answers than they had now. "That goes without saying. Maybe I can look into it," I agreed. "See what I can come up with. But if Patrice is mixed up in something dangerous-I simply can't let her continue."

Celia nodded tightly. "Of course. We just-"

"If there's another option other than calling in the council, we want to explore it," Robin said, nervously picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. "You know, we don't want to see her…hurt."

"Nobody wants to see anyone hurt," I assured her.

The two women sat back, relief emanating from them like perfume.

Blimey, I thought. What kind of mess have I gotten myself into?

I'm in a huge house, huge like the palace of Versailles. I keep running down corridors, sure I know the way out, but no matter where I go, I only end up in more corridors, more halls, more rooms that lead nowhere. I feel like something's after me-I'm running away from something, but I don't know what or who. I'm cold, and my bare feet make no sound on the smooth floors. Several times I stop o look out a window, to try to get my bearings, maybe see someone who could help me. Each time I see dream walls floating outside, like stage scenery. They're scrawled over with runes, sigils, words, and magickal drawings, drawings that frighten me, even though I don't know what they are. Then I look out a window and see a hawk swooping down to attack. I don't know why, but this sigil chills me to the very bone.

I begin to run down the corridors again. As I pass each enormous window, curtains burst into flames behind me. Is this house going to burn down with me in it? I need to get out of here, to escape. I'm so alone, so cold, so scared. Why can't I find my way out? What's after me? What's that dark, horribly shadow? The fire is crackling behind me, more shadows flickering on the walls ahead of me. I'm going to burn.

I woke myself up yelling something like, Goddess, help me! I was in my bed, sweating and clammy and icy all at the same time. I wondered if I had shouted out loud, but no one came to check, so I guessed I hadn't. I felt panicky and kept looking at my windows to make sure my shades weren't on fire. I drank some water in the bathroom and lay back down on my bed. I stared at the ceiling until the sun came up, and then I went back to sleep until it was time to meet everyone for the day's picnic.

That was right. I had considered telling Hunter about it at our picnic, but suddenly it seemed so silly. Obviously I've been through a lot of stress lately. Who wouldn't have weird dreams?

This night will be different, I promised myself. I was trying to quiet whatever demons I was carrying around in my mind. I had taken a relaxing bath. I was trying to think good thoughts, to concentrate on positive things.

It was ten-thirty. I had reviewed some of my history notes in preparation for finals, figuring if that didn't put me to a sound sleep, nothing would.

"Good night, honey," Mom said, poking her head in my open door.

"Night, Mom," I said. I heard Mary K. brushing her teeth in the bathroom we shared, and I turned off my light, taking comfort in the familiar sounds. I thrashed around until I was comfortable and in the perfect Morgan sleeping position. Now for good thoughts.

The day had been so great. I'd gone on a picnic with Hunter, Bree, and Robbie-my three favorite people. Bree and I had never been able to double-date before; though she'd always had boyfriends, I hadn't. And Bree and Robbie's relationship seemed to be going well. I'd never seen either of them so happy.

Okay, I thought. Good thoughts. The picnic had been perfect. And it had gotten only better after Bree and Robbie had taken off. I smiled to myself, thinking about Hunter and me. Goddess, he made me crazy. When, when could we be alone together the way we wanted-when would we finally make love?

Sometimes I felt so much love for Hunter that it overwhelmed me and I felt like I was going to cry. He was such a good person, such an ethical person. Such an incredibly talented, knowledgeable witch. I was totally fascinated by everything about him.

I was getting sleepy, and I felt warm and calm. I consciously relaxed every muscle in my body, starting from my toes and working my way up to the top of my head. I repeated my simple little soothing spell: Everything is fine and bright. Day must follow every night. My power keeps me safe from harm, and the Goddess holds me in her arms.

Then I fell asleep.

Frowning, I looked down at the map spread out on the bench seat next to me. I squint, but all the names and roads and markings are blurred. Frustrated, I look through the windshield at the tree-lined road, hoping that some feature of it will become familiar. I shift into third gear, as if moving faster will help me feel less lost. I don't know where I am or where I'm going. I feel sure that I did know when I set out-but the reasoning escapes me now.

Das Boot feels familiar and comforting, moving heavily down the narrow road, but that's the only thing that feels okay. There are gray clouds ahead of me, low and malevolent in the sky, as if a storm is coming. I want to turn and go home but don't know which direction to turn in. And there are no cross streets, anyway-nowhere to turn. Dammit. I look down at my map again, trying to force some of the symbols into focus. They're Gaelic. I recognize a few letters, but none of them make sense. I feel so frustrated, I want to cry. What's wrong with me? I feel so stupid. The seconds slide by and I become more and more anxious, almost panicky. How can I fix this situation?