"Where did you get this Book of Shadows?" I asked insistently.

"From a dealer in Manhattan," Selene said. Once again her tone was impossible to read. "He had acquired it from someone else—someone who had no credentials, who may have stolen it or found it in a second-hand store somewhere." She shrugged. "I bought it about ten or eleven years ago, sight unseen. When I opened it, I realized it was by the same young witch who I'd read about dying in a fire, not far from here. It's a special Book of Shadows, and not just because it's Maeve's."

"I'm going to take it home," I said boldly, surprising myself again.

For a long moment silence hung thick in the air. Again my heart started to race. I'd never challenged Cal's mother before; I hardly ever challenged adults at all.. and she was a powerful witch. Cal's eyes flashed between the two of us.

"Of course, my dear," Selene finally said. "It's yours."

I let my breath out silently. Selene added, "After Cal told me your story, I knew one day I would give it to you. If, after you read it, you have any questions or concerns, I hope you'll come and talk to me."

I nodded. "Thanks," I mumbled. I turned to Cal. "You know, I really just want to go home now." My voice was shaky.

"Okay," Cal said. "I'll drive you. Let's get our coats."

Selene stepped aside to let us pass. She remained in the study, probably to look around at what else I had touched or examined. Not that I could blame her. I didn't know what to feel. I hadn't meant to abuse her trust, but there was no denying the reward: I now possessed an intimate record of my birth mother's life, written in her hand. No matter what mysteries lay inside, I knew I could handle them. I had to handle them.

Cal squeezed my shoulder as we walked down the hail, reassuring me.

Outside, the November wind whipped through my hair, and I brushed it out of my face. Cal opened his car and I climbed in, shivering against the cold leather seats and pushing my hands deep inside my pockets. The Book of Shadows was zipped up inside my jacket, next to my chest.

"The heater will warm things up in a minute," Cal said. He turned the key and punched buttons on the dash. His handsome face was just a silhouette in the dark of night Then he turned to me and brushed his hand, surprisingly warm, against my cheek. "Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded, but I wasn't sure. I was grateful for his concern, yet I was all wrapped up in the mystery of the book and still uneasy about what had just happened with Selene.

"I wasn't trying to spy or sneak around," I told him. The words were true, but they sounded even less convincing the second time around.

He glanced at me again as he turned the Explorer onto the main road. "That door is spelled shut," he said thoughtfully. "I still have to get Mom's permission to go in—I've never been able to open the door by myself. And believe me, I've tried." His grin was a white flash in the darkness.

"But that's weird," I said, frowning. "I mean, I didn't even try to open the door—it just popped open, and I almost fell down."

Cal didn't respond. He concentrated on the road. Maybe he was trying to figure out how I had gotten in there, wondering if I'd used magick. But I hadn't, at least not consciously. Maybe I had been destined to find my way into that study, to find my mother's book.

Snow had started to fall, and now it brushed against the windshield, not sticking anywhere. It would be gone by morning. I couldn't wait to get home, to run upstairs to my room and start reading. For some reason, my thoughts turned to Sky Eventide and Hunter Niall. I had instantly disliked both of them: their piercing gazes, their snotty English accents, the way they looked at Cal and at me.

But why? Who were they? Why did they seem so important? I'd only seen Sky once before, in the cemetery a few days ago. And Hunter—Hunter upset me in a way I couldn't explain. I was still thinking about it when Cal pulled into my driveway and switched off the engine.

"Are your folks home?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to come in?"

"That's all right," I said, appreciating his offer. "I think I'll just hole up and read."

"Okay. Listen, I'll be home all night. Just call me if you want to talk."

"Thanks," I said, reaching for him.

He came into my arms, and we kissed for a few moments. The sweetness momentarily washed away any confusion and uncertainty I was feeling about my encounter with Selene. Finally, reluctantly, I untangled myself and opened the car door.

"Thanks," I said again. "I'll call you."

"Okay. Take care." He gave me a smile and didn't leave until I was inside.

"Hi!" I called. "I'm home."

My parents were watching a movie in the family room. "You're early," said Mom, looking at the clock.

I shrugged. "We missed the movie," I explained. "And I just decided to come home. Well, I'll be upstairs." I fled up to my room, ditched my coat, and flopped down on my bed. Then I pulled out a Scientific American magazine and got it ready in case I suddenly needed to cover the Book of Shadows. My parents and I had reached an uneasy truce— about Wicca, about my birth mother, about all the deception. It was best not to disturb that. I didn't want to have to explain anything painful to them.

Maeve Riordan's own words, I thought.

My hands trembling, I opened my mother's Book of Shadows and began to read.

What to write? The pressure inside me is building until my head pounds. Until recently I've always wanted to do what I needed to do. Now for the first time these two paths are diverging. She is blooming like an orchid: transforming from a plain plant into something crushingly beautiful, a blossom that cries out to be picked.

But now, somehow, the thought bothers me. I know it's right, it's necessary, it's expected. And I know I'll do it, but they keep hounding me. Nothing is turning out the way I had envisioned. I need more time to tie her to me, to join with her mentally, emotionally, so she'll see through my eyes. I even find myself liking the idea of joining with her. I'll bet the Goddess is laughing at me.

As to craft, I've found a variant reading of Hellorus that describes how sitting beneath an oak can bend the will of Eolh. I want to try it soon

— Sgath

Saturday morning I didn't exactly leap out of bed. I'd been up until the wee hours, reading Maeve's Book of Shadows. She'd started it when she was fourteen years old. So far, I couldn't figure out what Selene meant about finding out something upsetting. Aside from unpronounceable Gaelic words and lots of spells and recipes, I hadn't found anything really disturbing or strange. I knew that Maeve Riordan and Angus Bramson, my birth parents, were burned to death after they came to America. I just didn't know why. Maybe this book would explain it somehow. But I was reading slowly. I wanted to savor every word.

When I finally woke up and groped my way downstairs, my eyes were slits. I stumbled toward the refrigerator for a Diet Coke.

I was working on a couple of Pop-Tarts when Mom and Mary K. breezed in, having taken a brisk mother-daughter walk in the chill November air.

"Wow!" said Mom, her nose pink. She clapped her gloved hands. "It's nippy outside!" She came over and gave me a kiss, and I flinched as her icy hair brushed against my face.

"It's pretty, though," Mary K. added. "The snow is just starting to melt, and all the squirrels and birds are on the ground, looking for something to eat."

I rolled my eyes. Some people are just too cheerful in the morning. It isn't natural.

"Speaking of something to eat," Mom said, taking off her gloves and sitting down across from me, "can you two hit the grocery store this morning? I'm showing a house at ten-thirty, and we're out of almost everything."