Robbie pushed open the door, and I followed him into the store. I was stunned by Alyce's reception.

"Morgan!" she called. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were pink, and she sounded almost giddy. "Robbie! I'm so glad to see you. I have excellent news!"

"What happened?" I asked.

"It's almost unbelievable, Stuart Afton has forgiven Rosaline's debt!" Alyce said.

"What?" I practically shrieked. "How did that happen?"

"Do rich people really do that?" Robbie asked.

"Apparently this one does," Alyce said, laughing. "Afton called David late last night to say he'd made a sudden windfall on the stock market and he'd decided to pass on some of his good fortune. I suppose it's the Yule spirit.”

David stepped out from the little back room. "Have you heard?”

"Alyce was just telling us," I answered. "It's too good to be true."

David gave a faint smile. "It is rather surprising," he said.

"So the deal with the bookstore chain is off?" Robbie asked.

“That's right," David said. "And the upstairs tenants can stay, with their same rent."

"Best of all, Practical Magick stays," Alyce added. "We're throwing a party here tonight to celebrate. I was just going to start making calls to invite all of you, in fact. We want everyone to come—Wiccans, Catholics, Buddhists, atheists, you name it."

This was such great news. Even the idea of dark forces around couldn't keep me from a celebratory mood. "We'll be here," I promised.

"Uh, Morgan." Robbie elbowed me. "Hunter scheduled a circle tonight, remember?”

I'd forgotten, in fact. My stomach did a flip-flop at the thought of seeing Hunter again.

"I already spoke to Hunter. He's going to reschedule," Alyce said. She was practically giggling. "You don't get a gift like this every day, and we must give it a proper welcome. I've already arranged for The Fianna to play. It was the first thing I did when I heard the news." The Fianna was a hot Celtic pop band Mary K. and I had tried to get tickets to one of their concerts last spring, and they had been totally sold out.

I glanced at David, who was methodically counting Tarot decks. Compared to Alyce's high-energy happiness, he seemed subdued. Then I remembered that this positive outcome came from a loss—the death of David's aunt. Perhaps now that the immediate crisis about the building was over, he had more time to actually feel his grief. Well, as Wicca teaches, everything is cyclical. Life leads to death leads to rebirth.

I wondered what kind of cycle I was in with Hunter. Annoyance leads to dreaming of kissing him to. . irritation again?

"So what non-Wiccans are going to be at this party?" Mary K. asked as we waited for Das Boot's windshield to defrost I'd come home that afternoon to find her so down about her breakup with Bakker that I'd talked her into coming with me to the Practical Magick party. Mary K. felt pretty much the same way that my parents did about Wicca, so she'd been reluctant—until I mentioned that The Fianna was going to play.

"The Fianna?" she'd gasped. "For real?"

After that she couldn't say no.

I wasn't just being nice by inviting her; I needed her support. I've never been the most comfortable person at a party. And knowing that Hunter would be there made me even more nervous.

I blew on my fingers to warm them up. "I'm not sure who'll be there." I said. "Probably the people who live above the shop. Plus you'll know Robbie and Bree and the other kids from school. They're Wiccans but they're still people you've known forever."

I glanced at Mary K. She was wearing a short brown wool skirt and a russet-colored sweater. Citrine earrings sparkled against her auburn hair. As usual she looked perfect—neither too casual nor too dressy, just undeniably pretty.

"Well, you look great," she said, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

On her advice, I had worn a lavender sweater, a long forest green skirt, an amethyst necklace, and brown lace-up boots. Did I really look good? Except when I was making magick, I usually felt depressingly plain. I'm five-foot-six, completely flat chested, with boring, medium-brown hair and what my mother calls "a strong nose." I mean, I'm not revolting or anything, but I'm not pretty.

At least, I was never pretty until Cal. Cal himself was so beautiful, he could have had any girl he wanted—and he chose me. Of course, he had chosen me for awful reasons, but in spite of that I didn't believe he'd totally faked the way he looked at me, touched me, kissed me. It seemed like I'd become beautiful. Now, without him, I felt plain again.

Mary K. fiddled with her seat belt and turned to me. "So. . what happened with you and Cal? I mean, the real story."

My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. I took a deep breath. Then I finally told her everything that had happened the day of the fire. Everything I hadn't told my parents.

"Oh my God," was all she could say when I was done. "Oh my God, Morgan."

"You know, I owe you an apology for being so judgmental about you and Bakker," I told her. "I guess I expected you to handle the whole situation according to a simple, rational formula: Bakker hurts Mary K.; Mary K. dumps Bakker."

"That's how it should have been." Mary K.'s voice was so quiet, I could barely hear her. "I can't believe I gave him another chance."

"Two weeks ago I couldn't understand that," I said slowly, my thoughts forming my words. "But feelings don't work rationally. I did the same thing. All last week I knew things were wrong with Cal. But I didn't want to believe he could hurt me, even after he used his magick against me."

"He'd done it before?"

"The night before my birthday." The night we almost killed Hunter, I thought. Mary K. didn't need to know that part. I swallowed hard. "Cal—put a binding spell on me. I couldn't move. It was like I was drugged."

"Oh, great. All these things you're telling me really make me want to walk into a room full of witches." Mary K. peered out through her window as I pulled into a parking spot down the block from Practical Magick. "Is it too late to turn around and go home?"

"Yes. It's too late." I smiled and shut off the engine, but Mary K. just sat there, tugging her glove off and then on again. When she spoke, she sounded young and vulnerable.

"I appreciate what you said about me and Bakker. And I know that Wicca and your—your birth mother mean a lot to you. But all this witch stuff—it scares me. Especially when you tell me what's happened to you because of it."

I sighed. Maybe I'd told her too much.

"That's why it's so important to me that you come to this party," I tried to explain. "I want you to meet these people, to see that they're not all weird or scary or evil. I don't want to have to hide what I am. Please, Mary K. If you're really uncomfortable, we won't stay. I promise."

She looked down at her lap. After a moment she nodded.

"Okay," I said, trying to sound cheery. "Let's party."