“I know,” my mom said slowly. “And you were right—I am glad.” She flipped through the paper. “This is very well written, Morgan. You must have done a lot of research for it.”

“A lot,” I agreed. “But it’s not hard when you’re researching something you’re really interested in.”

My mom nodded and pursed her lips. “I always told you girls that I’d never stand in the way of things you were interested in,” she said. “At the time, I thought that was such an easy promise to make.” She looked down at the paper again. “Morgan, I think your father and I made a mistake when we considered sending you to Catholic school.”

For a moment I thought I’d misheard her or hallucinated or something.

“That was the wrong solution,” my mom went on. “I guess we—or I guess I—just overreacted. I. .” My mom stopped to take a deep breath. “I hope you know that I’m just afraid for you, Morgan. I love you, that’s all,” she finished in a whisper.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. She was serious—no Catholic school! Thank the Goddess! And with that wave of relief came a rush of love and gratitude for my mom, who was putting aside her fear and allowing me to explore something she didn’t understand. I leaned over and took the paper from her hand. “Thank you so much,” I said softly. “I know Wicca frightens you. But it’s part of me, Mom. I can’t change it.”

My mother was silent for so long that I thought perhaps I’d upset her. But finally she said, “You’re right.” She sighed and shook her head. “Morgan, I’m your mother, and I want you to be happy. I was concerned when I saw your grades suffering. But now you’ve shown me that you’re bringing them up. You’ve even proved that your interests and your academics can peacefully coexist.” She looked at me. “I don’t want to be the kind of mother who tells you what to believe. I swore to myself that I’d never be like that, and I intend to keep that promise. No matter how hard it is.”

I leaned over and hugged her, breathing in the light, sweet smell of her perfume. It occurred to me how much I had missed her—how much I had missed my whole family—in the last few weeks. Now I was safe, Ciaran was in custody, and I had my family around me. I felt warm and happy. My mom kissed me on the forehead. “I think that this hard work deserves a little reward,” she said. “What do you suggest?”

I lifted my eyebrows and grinned. “The end of my grounding period?”

“How about a phone call?”

“Good enough,” I said quickly, scrambling out of bed. Dagda let out a mew of complaint.

“Where are you going?” my mom asked.

I turned and grinned at her. “To go call Hunter.”

“Ah,” she said with a smile. “Well, tell him I said hello.”

“I will,” I called over my shoulder as I practically ran down the stairs. I couldn’t wait to tell him the good news about Alisa—I couldn’t wait to tell him everything. I was in such a hurry as I punched in Hunter’s number on the cordless phone that I messed up twice. I took a deep breath and tried again.

Hunter answered on the first ring. “Morgan, I’m so glad you called,” he said.

I laughed for what seemed like the first time in weeks. I hadn’t spoken to Hunter in days, and his voice seemed delicious to me. It was true that the mind melds we’d been having were great, but there was something so comforting about hearing his voice on the phone, so normal, that it almost made me giddy. “I guess there’s no point in trying to surprise you with a phone call,” I said lightly. “Guess what! No Catholic school!”

There was a moment of quiet on the other end of the line. For a second I wondered whether he’d heard me. “Morgan, love, that’s brilliant. Is it because you’ve brought your grades up?”

“It is,” I said happily. “Oh, and Alisa’s okay! She stopped by earlier.”

“Oh, excellent.”

I paused, thinking about Alisa’s visit and the picture falling. Should I tell Hunter about that? Or would he just think I was paranoid?

“Morgan—” Hunter began. There was something in his tone. What was it? Concern? Fear?

“What is it?” A feeling of dread spread through the pit of my stomach.

“I’ve heard from Sky.”

It took a moment for the news to sink in. “What did she—”

“She’s found some leads,” Hunter went on. “In fact, she believes my parents are not in France.”

“No?” I felt a sudden, horribly selfish wave of relief. Did that mean Hunter wouldn’t have to go to Europe to search for them?

“No,” Hunter replied. “She believes they’re in Canada. Quebec. It would explain the French. I’m going to head up there myself, as soon as possible.”

The room started to tilt crazily, and I had to hold on to the counter for support. “But—but—the council—”

“I’ve spoken with the council,” Hunter said. “Morgan, Ciaran is in custody. Selene and Cal are gone.” He paused. “I’ve asked permission to investigate the Canada leads. There’s no reason for me to be here now.” He sighed. “Don’t you see? You’re safe now. There isn’t anything left for me to do in Widow’s Vale.”

Had he really just said that? “Thanks a lot,” I said bitterly, swallowing the tears that were welling up in my throat.

“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it,” Hunter said quietly.

I did know. But it hurt anyway. “How long will you be gone?” I asked.

“It’s hard to be sure,” Hunter replied. “It could be a few days or a few weeks. Or longer. It depends on what I find.”

Of course. That was what I was afraid of. The image I’d seen when I scried, the image of Hunter waving farewell, entered my mind, along with the feeling of dread I’d felt when I first saw it. Was it possible. . was it possible that he might never come back? Don’t think that way, I commanded myself, but it was too late. I thought of the picture falling earlier, how frightened I had been. Had something so small really seemed so important just a few minutes ago?

“Just how reliable is Sky’s information?” I demanded. The moment the words were out of my mouth, I hated myself for saying them. But I couldn’t stop. “What if you’re heading into some kind of trap?”

Hunter didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. We both knew that Sky would never have told Hunter he should go to Canada unless she had some overwhelming evidence.

I pulled out a chair and sat down at the breakfast table, my forehead in my palm. This can’t be happening, I thought dizzily. Now that I was safe, Hunter was leaving. I tried to focus on my breathing, on pulling the fresh air into my lungs and letting the old air go. For a crazy moment I wished that I could be in some sort of horrible danger. It was a very strange thing, to realize that I would rather have my life in jeopardy with Hunter than to be safe. . without him.

“Morgan,” Hunter said. His voice grew quieter. “We’re mùirn beatha dàns. You know I love you completely. But you also know how I feel about my parents. You wouldn’t want me to pass up this chance, would you?”

Yes, I thought. I opened my mouth to say it, but I couldn’t. How could I tell him that? What would it do to our love?

“No,” I whispered. “I want you to find them.”

“I knew that was what you would say.” Hunter’s voice was a caress.

I inhaled. I exhaled. I ran my fingers over the ridges of the cotton place mat. It felt impossibly normal to me, incongruously simple.

Out of nowhere, the words Alisa had spoken over a week ago echoed in my mind. I wish things could stay the way they are. For a brief moment I’d been safe, my family had been happy, and I’d known who my mùirn beatha dàn truly was. And now he was leaving me. I remembered the vision I’d had, the one in which Hunter had waved good-bye, and I tried not to think that this separation was permanent.

Trust me. The words hadn’t been spoken, yet they seemed to be all around me, spinning lazily like dandelion fluff on a summer wind. I looked out the kitchen window. The night was dark, and the moon was out. I couldn’t see any stars, but I knew they were there. I could picture them, waiting patiently, their light cutting through the infinite darkness. Fire had never looked so cold to me.