Moira felt as if she had stepped out of her normal Saturday spellcraft lesson and into a comic book about superheroes.

"To be fifteen years old, the daughter of Morgan Byrne, and to have no idea of such matters-it's a blessing, a gift. One that you will be thankful for, again and again, in the future." Keady looked at Moira steadily, then seemed to think she had said enough.

In silence Moira finished her tea, mumbled good-bye, took her things, and left.

"Keady says it would be helpful to read your and Dad's Books of Shadows," Moira said that afternoon.

"I think I gave them to you," her mother said, stirring the pot on the stove. She sniffed its scent and then looked at her watch. "You gave me most of them, but I think it would be good to read your very first ones, even before you were initiated, when you were first learning about spells," said Moira. An odd expression crossed her mum's face for just a moment and then passed.

"Gosh, that was so long ago," her mother murmured. "I'm not sure where they are."

"Didn't Dad say once that all of both of your old stuff was in those crates down in the cellar?" Moira persisted.

Her mother looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure."

"Well, I could really use them," Moira said. "It would help me for my initiation. Can I try to find them?"

Her mum looked distinctly uncomfortable, but Moira wasn't going to back down, not after the things Keady had said.

"I guess," was her mum's unenthusiastic reply. "But I'll get them for you when I have a minute."

"Brilliant," said Moira, standing up and putting her dishes in the sink. As she was heading upstairs, her mom said, "Don't forget-circle in an hour."

"Right," Moira called back.

"I miss having circles outside, like in summer," Moira said. She and her mum were walking briskly down the road toward Katrina's. The sun had set, and with no streetlights the night was a solid velvety black. With magesight, kind of like a witch's night vision, Moira stepped surely on the rutted, uneven road.

"Yes," said her mother. "Being outside is always good. But it's nice to have a place to be warm and dry as well."

Soon they had almost caught up to Brett and Lacey Hawkstone and their daughter, Lizzie, who was fourteen and would start her initiation classes at Yule. Ahead of them Michelle Moore walked with her partner, Fillipa Gregg.

"Today at class I sent some energy to Keady," Moira said.

"Really?" Her mother smiled at her and seemed glad but neither surprised nor ecstatic. "Good for you. I'm sure Keady was pleased. Oh, look, Fillipa needs help carrying that bag. Let's hurry."

As the group approached the store, Moira's gran appeared in the doorway of her cottage. "Hello! Come in," said Gran, smiling. She closed the front door to her house and met them by the store's entrance. Her house was a small, thick-walled cottage, and the old store was attached directly to it. It had been a tiny country store, just one large room. Five years ago the coven had joined together and whitewashed the inside, sanded the floor, and painted good luck charms and symbols all around the room's perimeter. There were four small windows, high up on the thick walls, and a double-wide front door. The only other door led into Gran's back pantry in her house.

"Hi, Gran," said Moira, kissing her. She sniffed, then wiggled her eyebrows expectantly.

"Yes, those are gingersnaps you smell," Katrina told her with a laugh. "I felt like baking this afternoon. We'll have them after circle."

"Morgan," said Hartwell Moss, coming over to hug Moira's mum. "How are you? Rough week?"

"Not too bad," said Moira's mum, but something in her voice made Moira look at her more closely. Were those lines of tension around her eyes? Was her mouth tight? Moira tried casting her senses and picked up on a lot of anxiety. Was it just because Moira had been late last night, or was something else going on? "Hello!" Gran called, opening her arms wide. "Hello, everyone, and good evening to you. Welcome. Is everyone here, then?" Though she was heavyset and walked slowly because of arthritis, Moira thought her grandmother still made a wonderful high priestess for their coven. Her gray hair was pulled back with silver combs and her long, dove-gray linen robe was imprinted in black with simple images of the sea.

"Hello, good evening," people answered in various forms. Moira counted: twenty-one people here tonight, a good number. In the winter it often drifted down to eight or nine, when the weather made some of the higher roads risky; in spring the number could swell to over twenty. Even their coven obeyed the law of wax and wane, the turn of the wheel.

Standing at the head of the room, Katrina clasped her hands and smiled. "The sun has gone down, and we are embraced by the harvest moon, nae? There's a crispness in the air that tells us leaves will soon fell, days will grow shorter, and we'll be staying more by our firesides. What a joyful time is autumn! We gather in our harvest, collecting Mother Earth's bounty, her gifts to us. We till the soil, and the soil feeds us. Or, for some of us, we think fondly of our soil but buy our veggies from the market!"

People laughed. Moira felt proud of her grandmother.

"Lammas is behind us: we look ahead to Mabon," Katrina went on. "We're planning a special Mabon feast, of course, so please talk to Susan if you'd like to contribute food, drink, candles, decorations, or just your time. Thank you very much. Now, I've already drawn our circle here, you can see, but if you'll forgive me, I'd like to ask Morgan to lead us tonight. Maybe I've overdone things a little lately."

Moira glanced at her mother, who was looking at Katrina with affection. Morgan nodded slightly, and, looking relieved, Katrina moved to the side.

"Can you all please come into the circle?" asked Morgan, and the coven members filed in through the opening that Gran had left. Quickly Morgan went around the circle and sketched the rune Eolh at the east, Tyr at the north, Thorn at the west, and Ur at the south. Moira silently recited their meanings: protection, victory in battle, overcoming adversity, and strength. Powerful runes, runes of protection. As if the coven were under siege. Moira remembered what Keady had said about Morgan's power being used for defense and wondered what was this was about.

Next Morgan lit a stick of incense and placed it behind the rune Tyr. She set a silver cup of water next to Thorn and a silver cup of smooth pebbles at Ur. Next to Eolh she lit a tall orange candle. Finally Morgan took her place in the circle, between Katrina and Lacey Hawkstone. Everyone clasped hands and raised them overhead. Moira had moved till she was between Vita and Tess, who had also edged away from their parents. Tess squeezed her hand-Moira knew she'd rather be home watching television. Across the room Keady Dove smiled at her.

"I welcome the Goddess and the God to tonight's circle, and I hope they find favor with our gathering," Morgan began. "I dedicate this circle to our coming harvest, to our safe passage into winter, and to our spirit of community. We're a chain, all of us connected and entwined. We help each other, we support each other. Our links form a strong fence, and within it we can protect our own."

Moira saw that a few people were glancing at each other. They were probably wondering what was going on, with the runes of protection and Morgan talking about being a fence. Moira hoped she wouldn't start talking about Ealltuinn. Maybe Ealltuinn wasn't as particular about following the Wiccan Rede as Belwicket was. There were lots of covens that weren't. But that didn't make them evil.

"Since we're in the middle of our harvest season," Morgan said, "let's give thanks now for things that we have drawn to us, for our times of fruitfulness, for the gifts of the land. Life has given us each incomparable riches."