I don't know how long it was before I realized that my fingertips were picking up impressions. I felt feathery softness, a cool stone, a warm prickle… were these the images of the runes? I let myself go deeper into the magick, losing myself in its power. There. Yes, there was one place where I felt a stronger sensation. Each time my fingers passed it, it called to me. I let my hand drift downward to rest on the paper and opened my eyes.

My fingers were on the rune called Yr. The symbol for death.

I frowned. "What does this mean?"

"Hmmm," said Cal, looking at the paper, his hand on his chin. "Well, you know, Yr can be interpreted many different ways. It doesn't mean that you or someone you know is going to die. It may simply mean the ending of something and the beginning of something new. Some sort of big change, not necessarily a bad one."

The double-fishhook symbol of Yr shone darkly on the white paper. Death. The importance of endings. It seemed like an omen. A scary omen. A jet of adrenaline surged through me, making my heart thud.

All at once I heard the back door open.

"Hello?" came my mom's voice. "Morgan? Mary K.?" There were footsteps in the dining room. My concentration evaporated.

"Hey, sweetie," she said to Mary K. She paused. "Hello, Bakker. Mary K., is your sister here?" I knew she meant: For God's sake, you're not here alone with a boy, are you?

"I'm in here," I said, tucking the paper of runes into my pocket. Cal and I walked out of the family room. Mom's eyes flashed over us, and I could immediately see the thoughts going through her mind. My girls, alone in the house with two boys. But we were all downstairs, we had our clothes on, and Mary K. and Bakker were at least sitting at the dining-room table. I could see Mom consciously decide not to worry about it

"Are you baking potatoes?" she asked, sniffing.

"Yep," I said.

"Do you think we could mash them instead?" she asked. "I've asked Eileen and Paula to dinner." She held up a folder. "I've got some hot prospects for them housewise."

"Cool," I said. "Yeah, we can mash them, and then there'll be enough. I'm making hamburgers, too, but there's plenty."

"Great. Thanks, sweetie." Mom headed upstairs to change out of her work clothes.

"I'd better go," I heard Bakker say reluctantly. Good, I thought.

"Me too," said Cal. "Bakker, do you think you could give me a lift back to school? That's where my car is."

"No prob," said Bakker.

I walked Cal outside, and we hugged on the front porch. He kissed my neck and whispered, "I'll call you later. Don't get all bent about the Yr thing. It was just an exercise."

"Okay," I whispered back, although I still wasn't sure how I felt. "Thanks for coming over."

Aunt Eileen arrived first. "Hi!" she said, coming in and taking off her coat. "Paula called and said she was running a few minutes late—something about a Chihuahua having a difficult labor."

I smiled awkwardly in the front hall. I hadn't seen her since I had demanded to know why she hadn't told me I was adopted, at a family dinner two weeks ago. I felt a little embarrassed to see her again, but I was sure Mom had been talking to her, keeping her up-to-date with everything.

"Hi, Aunt Eileen," I said. "I… uh, I'm sorry about making a scene last time. You know."

As if to answer, she swept me up in a tight hug. "It's okay, sweetie," she whispered. "I understand. I don't blame you a bit."

We pulled back and smiled at each other for a moment. I knew Aunt Eileen would make everything okay again. Then she glanced down and gasped, pointing urgently to my dad's La-Z-Boy, where a small gray butt and tail were sticking out from under the skirt.

I laughed and scooped Dagda out.

"This is Dagda," I said, rubbing him behind his ears. "He's my new cat."

"Oh, my goodness," said Eileen, stroking his head. "I'm sorry. I thought he was a rat."

"You should know better," I joked, putting him back on the chair. "You date a vet."

Aunt Eileen laughed, too. "I know, I know."

Soon afterward Paula arrived, her sandy hair windblown, her nose pink with cold.

"Hey," I greeted her. "Is the Chihuahua okay?"

"Fine, and the proud mom of two pups," she said, giving me a hug. "Oh! What a beautiful kitten!" she said, spotting Dagda on Dad's chair.

I beamed. Finally. Somebody who knew what a treasure Dagda was. I'd always liked Aunt Eileen's new girlfriend, but now it struck me that they were a perfect match. Maybe Paula was even Eileen's muirn beatha dan.

Thinking about it brought a smile to my face. Everybody deserved somebody. Not everyone was as lucky as I was, of course. I had Cal.

CHAPTER 9

Trust

The magick is working as I knew it would. The Seeker no longer frightens me as much. I believe I am the stronger of us two, especially with the power of the others behind me.

Soon I will join with my love. I do understand the urgency, though I wish they would trust me to do it my way, at my pace. More and more, lately, I want to do this for my own sake. But the timing must be perfect. I dare not frighten her; there is too much at stake.

O have been reading the ancient texts, the ones about love and union. I have even copied down my favorite passage from Song of the Goddess: "To give pleasure to yourself and to others, that is my ritual. To love yourself and others, that is my ritual. Celebrate your body and spirit with joy and passion, and as you do so, you worship me."

— Sgath

"I hope you know that you can't trust Bakker," I said to Mary K. the next morning. I tried not to sound snotty, but it came out that way anyhow.

Mary K. didn't answer. She just looked out her car window. Frost covered everything in lacy, powdered-sugar patterns.

I drove slowly, trying to avoid the hard patches of black ice where the newly plowed roads had puddled and frozen. My breath came out in a mist inside Das Boot.

"I know he's really sorry," I went on, in spite of my sister's stiff face. "And I believe he really cares about you. But I just don't trust his temper."

"Then don't go out with him," Mary K. muttered.

Alarm bells went off in my brain, I was criticizing him, and she was defending him. I was doing what I feared: pushing them closer together. I took a deep breath. Goddess, guide me, I said silently.

"You know," I said finally, several blocks from school. "I bet you're right. I bet it was just a onetime thing. But you guys have talked, right?" I didn't wait for an answer. "And he is really sorry. I guess it will never happen again."

Mary K. looked over at me suspiciously, but I kept my face neutral and my eyes on the road.

"He is sorry," my sister said. "He feels terrible about it. He never meant to hurt me. And now he knows he has to listen to me."

I nodded. "I know he cares about you."

"He does," said Mary K.

She looked transparently self-assured. Inside, my heart throbbed. I hated this. Maybe everything I had just said was true. But I couldn't help fearing that Bakker would try again to force Mary K. into doing something she didn't want to do. If he did, I would make him pay.

I got to school early enough to see Cal before the bell rang. He was waiting for me by the east entrance, where our coven gathered during better weather.

"Hey," he said, kissing me. "Come on, we found a new place to hang out. It's warmer."

Inside, we passed the steps leading to the second floor and turned a corner. There another set of steps led down to the building's cellar. No one was supposed to go down here except the janitors. But Robbie, Ethan, Sharon, and Jenna were sitting on the steps, talking and laughing.