July, 1991

We are in Borbeaux, staying with Leandre, a Wyndenkell cousin of Fiona's. Fiona is not well. She says it's only a chill she caught during the channel crossing, but I'm afraid it's something more serious. For a week now she's had a fever every night, and none of the usual remedies seem to help it. I'm almost ready to suggest that she go to a doctor of western medicine.

I went out today and hunted though the fields until I found a chunk of quartz the size of my fist. It's not as good as obsidian, but I think it will serve. I'm going to scry for our children, our town, our coven. I feel heavy with dread at the thought of what I might see.

— Maghach

Mary K. wasn't the only one who was nervous. I felt flutters in my stomach as we walked up the block toward the store. It had occurred to me that I was going to have to walk into a room full of people who all probably knew exactly what had happened with me and Cal. I pictured the talk stopping and all eyes turning toward me and Mary K. the minute we opened the door. My pace slowed to a halt.

Mary K. looked at my face. "Want to go home?" she asked shrewdly.

I swallowed. "No. Come on."

As it turned out, our entrance hardly attracted any notice at all. I stood by the glass doors, peeling off my gloves and gathering my courage. The party was already in full swing. Practical Magick was lit with candles and tiny white Christmas lights, and fragrant pine boughs decked the molding. Shelves had been moved into the nonbook half of the store so a platform stage could be set up. A cloth printed with Celtic knots was draped over the counter and covered with platters of food.

Alyce, wearing a long blue velvet dress, was the first to greet us. "Morgan," she said, folding me into a hug. "You look wonderful. I'm so glad you made it. And this is …?”

"My sister, Mary K."

"Welcome," she said, clasping both of Mary K.'s hands in hers. "What a pleasure to meet you." Mary K. smiled; it was impossible not to respond to Alyce's warmth.

Alyce waved us in. "It's crowded already," she warned. "There's a coat rack set up against the back wall, cold drinks by the stockroom door, and hot apple cider on the little table by the Books of Shadows."

"Are The Fianna really playing? asked Mary K.

"They are. They're in the back room, going over their set list.”

"How did you ever get them?" Mary K. was clearly awestruck.

"Connections," Alyce told her. "The lead guitarist is my nephew. Would you like to meet them?"

My sister's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Now's your chance." Alyce slipped an arm through Mary K.'s and led her behind the counter and into the back room.

I surveyed the other guests. It was crowded. I spotted the elderly couple from upstairs holding hands and beaming happily. Even from across the room, I could sense their relief. I felt a rush of pleasure, knowing that some problems had quick and happy solutions.

Sharon and Ethan were standing near an aluminum tub filled with ice and canned drinks, their heads bent toward each other. Jenna, wearing a silky slip dress with a cropped cardigan, was chatting animatedly to a guy who'd been in the shop the other day. He was laughing at something she said, and I noticed her ex, Matt, watching them. From the way Jenna cast a subtle glance in Matt's direction, I could tell she enjoyed knowing that Matt was watching her flirt.

Things are getting more and more complicated, I thought. I glanced around, looking for Hunter. I almost missed him because he was kneeling down in deep conversation with a little boy I recognized as the four-year-old son of the other tenant, Lisa Winston. The little boy seemed to be explaining something very important to Hunter, and Hunter was nodding seriously. Then Hunter said something, and the boy laughed with delight. Hunter must have felt my eyes on him because he suddenly glanced my way. I felt my heart catch; was it nerves?

Hunter went back to talking to the boy, and I was wondering if I should go join them when I heard someone say my name behind me.

"Morgan, isn't it?" I turned to see a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair in a thick French braid. She looked familiar, yet I couldn't place her.

"I'm Riva. I met you once at Selene's. I'm part of Starlocket," she explained. "I heard about what Selene and Cal tried to do to you," she added, staring at me.

"Oh," I said. This was just what I'd been afraid of. I felt like a zoo exhibit and wished desperately that she'd just go away and leave me alone.

"I couldn't believe it," she went on. "I had no idea Selene was mixed up with dark magick. I promise you, if any of us had known, we wouldn't have let her lead us."

"Thanks," I said awkwardly. "That's good to know." She nodded and moved on to talk with another woman I recognized from Starlocket.

The mention of dark magick made me think again of the presence I'd felt at home and at the garage. I had checked to be sure that the protective sigils that Sky and Hunter had left at the house were still there, and it was reassuring that they were. Knowing that I had my altar set up also gave me something approaching peace of mind. Maybe I should find a book on altar magick, I thought. At least it would give me something to do besides standing here like a dork.

As I moved to the book section of the store, I felt a cold draft and turned to see the front door open.

"We're here!" Raven Meltzer announced from the open doorway. "The party can start now!" She strode into the store, Bree and Sky following her.

Raven took the prize for most outrageous outfit—no surprise there. She hadn't even bothered to wear a coat; she probably didn't want anything to spoil her dramatic entrance. Her black leather bustier showed off both the circle of flames tattooed around her belly button and a generous amount of cleavage. She wore tight black leather hip huggers, heavy-soled biker boots, hematite bracelets on her wrists, silver chains around her throat, and glittery eye shadow that went clear out to her temples. She'd put blue highlights in her dyed black hair. Catching sight of Matt, she gave him smile and then ran her tongue over her lips in a slow, deliberate way. He flushed heavily.

As Bree shrugged off her heavy coat, Robbie stepped up to take it from her. But he was too late; a guy I knew from English class had already grabbed it, and Bree was thanking him sweetly, touching his arm. She was looking even more glamorous than usual in a slim coppery sheath of a dress.

Sky was as beautiful as Bree and Raven but in a completely different way. She was more subdued, more contained, in a pair of black jeans and a midnight blue camisole that set off her pale complexion and dark eyes. Those eyes never left Raven. She watched her in fascination, with yearning. I had been shocked to discover that Sky had a serious thing for Raven; they were so different. Maybe for Sky that was part of the attraction.

I sighed. Matt wanted Raven but sort of still wanted Jenna, too. Raven wanted to tease Matt and maybe Sky as well. Sky wanted Raven. Robbie wanted Bree, who only wanted boys she didn't have to take seriously. And I still I wanted Cal, who had tried to kill me. Except when I wanted Hunter, whom I couldn't stand. . Suddenly the idea of joining a convent sounded very appealing.

I snorted a laugh. Could witches even join convents? Well, this was one mess that I couldn't blame on Wicca, I realized. Wicca might have brought us together and intensified our feelings, but this little soap opera had high school hormones written all over it. In a weird way, the normalcy of these huge problems felt comforting.

And here I was, back to feeling my normal wallflower self.