"Morgan?" a muffled voice called. "Morgan!"

I blinked and glanced up. My friend Tamara Pritchett was tapping on the window, her breath coming out in white puffs. "You're going to be late," she said as I rolled down the window. "Didn't you hear the bell?"

"Um. ." I mumbled. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

We walked to class together, and all the way there I was aware of the curious looks Tamara kept giving me. By now everyone knew that Cal was gone, that there had been a fire at his house. I'd told everyone who asked the standard story: that we'd broken up and I didn't know anything about the fire or where he was. But the people I'd been good friends with before Wicca came into my life, people like Tamara and Janice Yutoh, could tell there was a lot I wasn't saying.

I got through my morning classes, and then at lunch period I left school. I had an appointment for Das Boot at the body shop to get an estimate for the repairs. Unser's Auto Repair was off the highway on the outskirts of Widow's Vale. It was a big fenced lot, filled with cars, with a garage in the middle of it. With the exception of the Afton Enterprises gravel pit, which I passed about a quarter of a mile before Unser's, the road stretched out bleak and empty. I gave the gravel pit a glare as I drove past it, thinking of Practical Magick.

I pulled into the garage. Bob Unser, a gruff, gray-haired man in coveralls, wiped his hands on a rag and came over to the car as I got out. His big German shepherd, Max, bounded over, shoved his wet nose into my palm and licked it, then bounded away again. Max was technically a guard dog, but he was a total sweetheart. He and Bob both knew me pretty well. Being a genuine antique, Das Boot had had its share of problems, though nothing as major as this before.

Bob squinted at Das Boot's crumpled, scorched nose and smashed headlight. "What happened?"

"It kind of. . collided with a building that was on fire."

He grunted. "That's original."

I huddled in my coat while he looked over Das Boot and made notes on a clipboard. "Let me call and get an estimate on the parts," he said. "Then I'll give you a total."

"Great." I had a feeling this repair was going to cost a fortune, and I wasn't sure how I was going to pay for it. I didn't want to put it on my parents' insurance and risk raising their rates.

Bob went into the little office, and I stayed in the garage. Max trotted back to my side, and I ran my hand through his thick coat. Then I felt the fur near his neck start to rise, and a low, rumbling growl filled the garage. I let go of him at once, wondering what was wrong.

Max swung his head toward the entrance of the garage. His growl deepened, and he loped outside. Then my own senses prickled. Something was out there. Something magickal.

My pulse rate picked up. I stood still, trying to get a better sense of the presence. It didn't feel human. Cautiously I stepped outside. Max stood on an icy patch of gravel a short distance from the garage, fur bristling and teeth bared. Then he began to race around the perimeter of the lot, barking furiously.

I cast out my senses and got feelings of stealth, concealment, malevolent power. Cold fear coursed through me, and my breath came fast as I traced the shape of Peorth in the air, the rune for revealing what is hidden. I visualized the rune, tracing it in my mind in bright red light until I felt its shape become a three-dimensional entity. Instinctively I began saying my power chant. "An di allaigh. ."

There was a weird, whooshing noise, as if a whole flock of birds had started up from the ground at once. Something that felt like an ill wind brushed past me, making the tiny hairs on my arms stand up. I gasped. Max raced over to me, barking frantically. I saw nothing, but the air felt lighter, and I knew that the intruder was gone.

Bob walked out of the shop. "What's going on out here?" He frowned at Max, then at me. "What was all that noise about?"

I leaned against the car so he wouldn't see how I was shaking. "I guess Max heard something."

Max sat down in front of Bob and elaborated with short, eloquent barks.

"Okay, boy, okay." Bob was petting him now, comforting him. "We'll lock up good tonight."

We went back inside, and he handed me a written estimate for $750. That made me gasp again. "I'll have to special-order you a bumper and hood," he explained. "They don't make parts for this model anymore. I'll have to get them from a used-parts dealer in Pennsylvania. You call me and let me know when you're ready to go ahead."

I thanked him, barely even listening. Before I left I traced the rune Eolh on Max's forehead for protection. What had that mysterious presence been? Was it after me? Was it connected to the dark force I had felt the other night? Was it Cal or Selene?

Though the sun was shining brightly, I felt like a black veil had been pulled across the sky. Shivering, I got into my car and drove back to school.

Mary K. went to Jaycee's house after school, as she often did, so I drove straight home. I was still shaken up from the incident at the garage. I had no idea what it had been, but I didn't want to take any chances. I had felt something evil. If it was after me, I'd better start protecting myself fast.

In the empty house I went upstairs and took my birth mother's athame from its hiding place in the HVAC vent. Then I walked around the outside of my house, running the athame lightly over the clapboard siding. Hunter and Sky had placed runes of protection all around the house about two weeks ago. The athame revealed the magick signs to me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. They were still there and still glowing with potency.

Next I went up to my room and closed the door. I'd been planning to make an altar for some time, but now it seemed doubly urgent. If there really was someone or something after me, I needed to be as strong and sure in my magick as possible.

The problem was, the altar had to be somewhere my family wouldn't notice. Although my parents now seemed to realize that they couldn't prevent me from being a witch, there was no point in setting up an altar where they would see it and get upset.

I looked around my room. It wasn't big. There was no obvious place to set up an altar—certainly none that wouldn't be totally noticeable. I thought a moment and opened the door to my closet. It was a deep walk-in, with a long hanging rod running the length of it. I began taking clothes off the rod, laying shirts, dresses, jackets, and skirts on my bed. "Yuck," I said as a sundress with an enormous tropical flower print surfaced. It was time to give some things away.

When the closet was empty, I stared at the back of it. A small footlocker from when I went to summer camp sat on the floor. It had potential.

I rummaged in my dresser drawer for the length of plum-colored Irish linen that Aunt Eileen had brought back from her trip to Ireland. It covered the trunk perfectly, as if that's exactly what it had been woven for. Voila. One altar.

Next I opened the junk drawer of my desk. I sorted through the crap until I found a small, perfect, pink-and-white scallop shell. I set it on one corner of the altar to represent water. On another I put a chunk of amethyst that had been among the crystals in Maeve's box of tools. That was for earth. On the remaining corners I set a candle for fire and a stick of incense for air. Of course, I wouldn't actually be able to light the candle or incense inside the closet. For that the altar would have to come out into my room. But I liked having all four elements in place.

I sat before my altar. It was pretty simple, as basic as you can get. Yet it felt right.

Something soft nudged me. Dagda. I ran my hand down his silky little back. "This is where we're going to invoke the Goddess," I explained. He purred as if in approval.