I looked through the peephole and sucked in my breath. Erin! I’d completely forgotten we were supposed to meet to go over what I’d read about witch history. Crap. And now I had to answer the door. She was a witch, after all—she knew I was here.

“Hello, Morgan,” she said. Her dark red hair was pulled into a braid, and she was carrying a backpack. In blue jeans and a peacoat, she looked more like a Vassar student than a forty-seven-year-old witch.

“Hi,” I said, looking nervously behind her. My mom and dad weren’t due home for a couple of hours, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I wasn’t supposed to have any visitors, and I knew that if they caught me with Erin, I was toast.

Erin cocked an eyebrow. “May I come in?” she asked.

“Actually. . ” I said, pulling the door closed behind me. “I’ve sort of been grounded. For coming home late. I’m not supposed to have any visitors. I’m just supposed to go to school and come home—no TV, no phone, nothing.”

“I see.” Erin’s face was a neutral blank. “And how long is this going to last?”

I grimaced. “Two weeks.”

“I see,” Erin said again. We stood there, staring at each other for a few moments. She made no move to leave.

I cleared my throat. “So you see, I’m not supposed to have any visitors,” I began again. “Um, my parents are actually thinking about sending me to a Catholic school. So I’m trying to pull my grades up. They might change their minds.”

“Yes, I can appreciate that,” Erin replied. “But the fact is, Morgan, that I’m only going to be here for a short time. Do you take my meaning?”

I wavered. Erin was right. I was having a rough time family-wise, but she’d come all the way from Scotland and so far hadn’t had much of a chance to teach me anything. Something always seemed to get in the way. If I didn’t let her in today, her entire trip would be pretty much of a wash.

“I brought you some more books,” Erin said, pulling off her backpack. “A few from my own collection on Irish witches in the medieval period.”

“Well,” I said slowly, “I am writing a paper on the persecution of witches.”

“Then it’s a school project, isn’t it?” Erin blinked at me innocently.

That did it. “Come in,” I said quickly, leading her into the front hall. “But my sister is home, so we’ll have to be careful.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I won’t make a peep,” Erin promised. Then she cast a quick see-me-not spell so that Mary K. wouldn’t see or hear her as she slipped up the stairs. Not that there was much danger of that, considering the volume of the music pulsing from Mary K.’s room.

“Sorry it’s such a mess,” I said as I brushed a pile of clothes from my bed to the floor. Dagda, my gray kitten, had been sleeping at the foot of the bed. He stretched and mewed a mild complaint. Erin walked over to him and scratched him under the chin.

“He’s a cute one,” she said as Dagda stretched his neck and purred contentedly.

I smiled. Dagda had grown quite a bit since I’d first gotten him. Now he was looking like a lanky teenager of a cat, with gangly legs and paws that seemed enormous in proportion to the rest of him. Lately he spent all of his time either sleeping or dashing around the house madly—usually in the middle of the night.

Erin dropped her backpack and turned to look at me. “Have you finished Legacies of the Great Clans?” she asked.

I groaned. “Not even half of it,” I admitted.

Erin studied my face a moment. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” I said bluntly. “I’ve got a headache that I can’t get rid of.” I ran my thumb along the ridge of my right eye.

“A stabbing pain?” she asked. “Like a knife to the skull?”

That was exactly what it felt like. “Pretty much,” I agreed.

“And your breathing is a little tight? Your chest is heavy?” Erin suggested.

I nodded. “Is that normal?” I asked.

“Unfortunately.” Erin took my wrist and felt for my pulse. She seemed to think for a moment, then said, “I’m sorry, Morgan. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

It was strange. I had gotten so used to magick flowing through me that right now I was feeling like a clogged drain—something less than useless. I remembered when I had first met Cal and my magick had begun to reveal itself. I’d felt frightened and off-kilter. Now I just felt. . hollow.

“Before we begin, I think we should do a little meditation, ” Erin went on. “It should clear your head and make the pain recede.”

I went and dug my altar out of my closet. Erin lit the candle and the incense, and I drew a circle on the floor and turned out the overhead light. It was gray and cloudy outside, so the room was fairly dark. Dagda stalked over to the altar to investigate, sniffed everything, then dashed away at top speed. I opened the door and let him out, then sat on the floor, facing Erin, my back to the bathroom that connected my room with Mary K.’s.

Erin reached out and took my hands in hers. Her fingers were cool and smooth, and the minute we touched, I felt strength and comfort flowing from her. We didn’t speak, but soon I felt magick pulsing through the room.

Clear your mind. I heard the words although Erin hadn’t spoken. I closed my eyes and tried to reach out. An image flashed in my brain—Erin standing before me in a yellow field, wearing a brilliant blue dress made of a delicate fabric, embroidered with symbols older than any I knew. Let go of the pain. Erin reached out to me, and the fabric of her ancient dress rustled in the breeze.

At her touch, the stabbing pain in my forehead dulled a bit. My head was still throbbing, but it was a muted ache. My chest lifted, and I took a deep breath of clean air. I felt infinitely better.

I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

Just then I felt something slam me in the back. I let out a startled cry and heard someone shriek behind me. I opened my eyes to see Erin falling away from me. Everything, the floor, the altar, everything was falling away. Erin’s grip tightened on my hands, and my arm muscles tensed as I tried desperately not to let go. For a dizzy moment I expected Erin to shout at me not to let her drop.

“Oh my God!” the person behind me screamed. I turned and saw it was Alisa. Her face was white and covered in a light film of sweat. She looked confused, like she wasn’t quite sure where she was. But something about her orientation was wrong. She was standing, supporting herself against the door frame to the bathroom. And I was sitting, yet my face was almost level with hers.

“Oh my God!” she screamed again, her eyes wide with horror. That was when I understood what was happening. I was levitating.

My heart clenched in a cold fist of fear. I was going to fall! I flailed with my legs but only succeeded in kicking the bathroom door shut. My hair fell forward over my shoulders. “Don’t let go!” I screamed to Erin. “Don’t let go of me!” In my panic I pictured myself flattened against the ceiling of my room, crushed by the weight of reverse gravity.

Erin closed her eyes and made a low humming noise at the back of her throat. I felt myself sinking slowly, an inch, then another, toward the floor.

Alisa’s face was greenish white. She backed away from me, then ran toward the door that led into the hall. I heard her footsteps thudding on the stairs and saw a gray streak as Dagda dashed after her.

“What’s going on?” I heard Mary K. shout. Somewhere in the back of my mind it registered that her music wasn’t playing anymore.

I got lower, and lower. . Finally I was only a few inches off the floor. All at once I dropped onto my jute rug in a sprawling heap.

I looked up at Erin. “That wasn’t me,” I said.

“I know,” she said. I looked at her closely and realized that she was afraid.

I heard Mary K.’s footsteps on the stairs, then the front door slamming. All at once there was a squeal of tires and a piercing scream.