"Alisa," she said, "What are you doing?"

"I need help," I said, not quite sure how to explain myself. That statement seemed to cover a wide range of options. She looked at me, with new tear trails running down my face and an overnight bag in my grip.

"Get in," she said, reaching over and unlocking the door.

I got into the passenger's side. She pointed at the bag.

"What's going on? Did you just run away?"

"Something like that," I said, slouching low in the seat in case my dad passed by. "Would you mind driving around a little?" I asked sheepishly. She started down the street, torn between looking at the road and looking at me.

"Alisa," she said, her voice serious, "nothing that happened tonight was that big of a deal. You know we've been through a lot worse. And Hunter will have some information in the morning to help you."

"This isn't about what happened at the circle tonight," I said. "Not entirely."

"Fight with your parents?"

"Uh-huh."

"Was it about magick? Did you have another problem with telekinesis?"

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "It's a lot more complicated than that."

"Do they know you're gone?"

"I don't know," I said, playing with the zipper on my bag. "Maybe. If not now, soon."

She glanced at me. I felt my body tingle, and I guess she was looking me over in some magickal way, trying to figure out what I was thinking. She'd seen me flood a house and then sob on her boyfriend's shoulder for half an hour. Now she'd just found me hiding by a swing set at midnight with clothes in a bad. The evidence would suggest that I wasn't entirely stable.

"Come on," she said. "I'm taking you back to Hunter's." She started heading for Valley Road, which led to Hunter's house. I was surprised she didn't speed me to the closest mental hospital. "I'd take you to my house," she continued, "but between my parents and Mary K., that would just cause you a whole new set of problems. You can stay with Hunter for a few hours, and then he can take you home."

"No," I said, clutching my overnight bag to my stomach. "Please. No."

She pulled over to the side of the road and put the car into park.

"Why not?" she asked.

I shook my head, willing back the new storm of tears that was welling up inside.

"Look," she said gently, "you don't have to be embarrassed because he saw you so upset. Hunter can handle that. Trust me, I've turned to him enough times."

"I know what I have to do," I said, my voice wobbling.

"What's that?"

"I need to go to the bus station," I said. "I have to go somewhere."

"No way," Morgan replied, reaching for the shift. "It's Hunter's house or it's home. Which will it be?"

"I have to go see my mother's family, Morgan."

That stopped her for a moment, so I jumped right in.

"It was instinct that made me take my mother's Book of Shadows from your house," I said, the words coming quickly now. "Then my telekinesis made my jewelry box fall over and break—that's how I found my uncle's letters. And I've been having these dreams, visions of my mother's hometown. I've been in touch with my uncle. He told me I can come anytime I want."

Morgan stared out in front of her and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, deep in thought. Along with her witch skills, Morgan had a powerful big-sister vibe. Right now I could see the two were in conflict.

"Come on," I said, "how am I going to explain this to my father? How am I going to tell him that my mother was a witch, that she stripped herself of her powers, and that I've been having visions and problems with telekinesis? When you and I say that our parents don't understand us, we're not just angsting."

She couldn't deny anything I said.

"I still think we should go to Hunter's first," she said slowly. "You can talk it over with him."

"It's not that I don't want to talk to Hunter," I said, "but I need to get out of here. If I wait until morning, my dad will have the police after me."

Absolute silence for about two minutes.

"Tell me where you're going," she said finally.

"Gloucester, Massachusetts. To my uncle Sam Curtis's house."

"Do you have enough money?"

I reached into my purse and fished out my wallet. "I have my bank card and six dollars in cash."

"How much do you have in your account?"

"Just over three hundred," I said, "from baby-sitting."

Without another word, she put the car back in drive and turned it around, back towards the bus station. I could tell the internal battle was still raging on, though.

"I don't like it," she said, breaking the long silence, "but I guess I understand."

There were no cars in the bus station parking lot, and I saw no one through the glass windows. It was empty, except for the plastic seats and a few ticket machines. Morgan hunched down to look at the place through my window, then she groaned loudly.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this," she said, her voice low. She lifted herself from her seat, pressed her hand into the pocket of her jeans, and produced a few crumpled notes.

"Here," she said, pressing them into my hand, "take this, too. It's, um…" She smoothed out the bills and counted them. "Twelve bucks."

"Thanks," I said as she pressed the wrinkled money into my hand. "I'll pay you back."

Strangely in response she reached over, pulled back my collar, and started tickling my neck. At least, that is what she appeared to be doing.

"Is this what they mean when they talk to kids about 'bad touching'?" I asked.

"Call either me or Hunter," she warned, drawing back her hand. "I'm serious. If we haven't heard from you within twenty-four hours, we're coming after you. I just put a watch sigil on you, so we'll be able to find you anywhere."

"Thanks," I repeated, somewhat uncertainly. I didn't actually know what it meant to have a watch sigil burned into your flesh. It sounded kind of ominous.

"Guess that's all I can really do." She sighed.

"You've done a lot," I said, stepping out and leaning in through the window. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"I have to get home," she said, obviously annoyed by the limitations of her curfew. "Be careful. And remember, call within twenty-four hours."

With that, she slowly pulled away. I watched Das Boot vanish into the night, and then stepped inside the dingy, fluorescent glow of the bus station.

October 30, 1948

Máirin's book has opened up a whole new world to me. Goddess, how was it that I never knew this horrific story?

Máirin's mother was named Oona Doyle. She and her husband came over from Ireland in 1865 with a small group of other witches. They built this house and started Ròiseal that year.

According to Máirin, a hideous influenza outbreak spread through Gloucester in 1886. The whole coven worked as hard as they could to combat the sickness. Young Máirin describes long nights of visiting sickbeds and working on spells. In their attempts to cure others, some of the members of the coven were infected and weakened. The sickness claimed the lives of Máirin's father and two younger brothers, leaving the two women alone. Máirin was, of course, devastated—but her mother's reaction was even worse. She lost control of her mind, for two years Oona lived in this condition, and Máirin watched over her at all times.

Máirin descirbes a horrible night during which her mother ran skyclad through the house, casting hexing spells in her own blood. Two days later Oona's body washed up on the shore. Oona, unable to overcome her sadness must have wandered out to the ocean and just kept going, allowing the waves to overtake her. Máirin then describes the beginning of a long series of hauntings that went on for years. She made several attempts to control the phenomena.