Instantly Alyce's eyes met mine. That had to be a symbol for something.

Morgan shook her head, frustrated by not being able to recall more details. "I fell in a ditch, I think. Then I was running on a road, looking for something or someone, and my wings were gone." She shivered again, though it was warm in the room, and hunched her shoulders as if to protect herself. "But that's not the worst part," she said in a small voice. "The worst part is that when I woke up, my legs and feet were wet. And there were little bits of dried grass stuck to me."

"Oh, Morgan." My muscles tensed. Goddess. This was incredibly serious.

"And I had these," Morgan said, pulling up the sleeve of her shirt. Her arm was crisscrossed with many fine scratches. "My legs are scratched, too," She sounded afraid but was trying not to show it. "So I was sleepwalking. I went downstairs and saw wet footprints all the way to the front door. And Dagda-" Her voice broke off, and she gripped her mug in both hands. "I saw Dagda and went to him, and he hunched up like a Halloween kitty and hissed at me. Like I scared him." Her voice wavered. She was obviously fighting back tears. I scooted my chair closer to her and tried to wrap my arms around her protectively.

Alyce's kind, round face showed some of the concern I was feeling, though she still looked calm.

"Have you ever sleepwalked before?" I asked.

Morgan shook her head. "Never."

"The other two nights you had these dreams… do you think you were sleepwalking then?"

Morgan frowned, trying to remember. She shook her head, and her hair brushed back and forth against my arm. "Not that I know of."

Alyce sat back, looking at Morgan thoughtfully. "Goodness," she said. "You must feel very frightened, dear."

Morgan nodded, not looking at her. Alyce reached out and covered Morgan's hand with her own. "I don't blame you. I would be upset, too. What else do you remember about the dreams? Any kind of detail, anything at all. What about the first dream?"

Morgan sighed. "I remember waking up and knowing I'd had a bad dream and that I was kind of upset, but I just put it out of my mind. All I could remember about it was my feet hurting."

I smiled at her in encouragement.

"The next dream I remember better," Morgan said, "because I was determined not to repeat it again last night. I remember running through huge walls, like in a mansion. I kept getting lost. I looked through the window trying to get my bearings, and outside there were more walls, floating there. They were covered with writing, but I don't remember any of it. I remember running past the windows, and when I passed them, their curtains caught on fire. And there was a hawk, I think." Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember anything else. Then she shook her head. "That's all I remember."

"Was there a fire in the first dream?" I asked, looking for common threads.

"I don't remember. I don't think so. But maybe? Maybe I smelled smoke?" Morgan looked frustrated and confused.

"Okay," said Alyce, patting her hand reassuringly. "Let's look at what we have. You said that hawks were a part of your dreams. Do you remember what they were doing, how they looked?"

Morgan slowly shook her head. "I don't remember. I just feel like they've been in all of my dreams."

"All right," said Alyce. "Usually dreaming about birds symbolizes freedom or happiness."

"Yes, but she's dreaming about raptors, birds of prey," I pointed out. "That could indicate greed or a power struggle. Having a dark- feathered hawk to me seems more ominous: sensing danger or threat." I didn't know all that much about dream interpretation. I had learned enough to pass my initiation, but I remembered a few of the common symbols.

"What about me having wings with flames on them?" Morgan asked.

Alyce shot me a hesitant glance.

"Well, fire usually symbolizes purification, cleansing," I said. "Or sometimes metamorphosis, something changing from one form to another," Alyce added. "But you also have personal connections to it."

Morgan nodded solemnly. She had shown a special affinity for fire ever since she'd first learned she was a blood witch. She was one of the few blood witches I'd ever known who could successfully scry with fire. There was also family history with fire. Apparently her birth mother, Maeve Riordan, had also shown an affinity for it. Until she'd been burned to death.

"There's something else," Alyce said, looking thoughtful. "A bird with wings of fire… It's ringing a bell, but I can't quite place my finger on it. I feel like I've heard of that somewhere before." She thought for another few moments, then shook her head briskly. "Well, we'll need to do research on that one and on the curtains catching fire. Now, the car. Cars often represent the path you're taking through life, the path you're taking to achieve goals."

I frowned, trying to recall old lessons. "And being a passenger symbolizes someone having control over you, dictating your path."

"Walls can represent either safety or confinement. The halls you ran down were also a life path. The symbols you couldn't understand represented your literal confusion about something, that there's something going on you don't understand." Alyce leaned forward, thinking.

"I'm hearing a lot about life paths, sensed danger, and also confusion, hidden stuff," I said uncomfortably. "There symbols seem to keep repeating themselves."

"Yes," Alyce agreed. She looked at Morgan. "You need to do some deep thinking, dear. Some meditation might help make some of this clear. To me it feels like there's something hanging over your head, symbolically if not literally. The fact that these dreams are so strong, strong enough to make you actually sleepwalk, means we must take them very seriously. Your psyche is sending you a powerful message. It's important that we figure out what it is."

Morgan looked troubled. "There's something else that I just thought of," she said. "The walls with the writing on them, the symbols and runes-they remind me of Cal's seòmar-his secret room where he worked all that dark magick."

And where he had tried to kill her. My stomach knotted, and fury boiled up in me like lava. My half brother, Cal, was dead, yet it seemed Morgan would never be free of his influence, his corruption. He'd nearly seduced her, manipulated her, and tried to steal her power. For a minute I was so angry, my teeth clenched so tightly, that I couldn't speak. Then I spit out the obvious. "But Cal is dead."

"I know," Morgan said in frustration. "I don't understand any of it. All I know is that it's making me crazy, and now I'm actually sleepwalking. That's just too much for me to deal with." She put her elbows on the table and dropped her face into her hands.

"We have to sort this out quickly," I said to Alyce, surprising myself with the harshness of my voice. "Morgan's obviously in danger. We have to figure out where the threat is coming from and eliminate it."

"I agree," Alyce said, regarding me calmly. "But the 'threat' could be coming from Morgan herself. Her psyche could simply be using strong means to get a message across. The sooner we figure out that message, the sooner it can stop trying to make an impression on her."

"I don't believe that," I said, looking at Alyce evenly. "I know Morgan. I don't think her psyche would cause her to sleepwalk in the middle of the night to get its points across. I believe these dreams are magickal."

"I hate this," Morgan muttered, shaking her head. I stroked her hair down her back, smoothing the heavy strands.

"I know," Alyce said, patting Morgan's hand again. "I don't blame you. It's hard to sort out. But one thing is clear: These dreams might be serious, and we need to take action."

"On the chance that these dreams could be influenced or caused by an outside source, I'm going to research how one would do that," I said. "Maybe I can suss out some examples of cases where it was found that outside forces were influencing a person's dreams. And perhaps I'll talk to my father about otherworld influences acting in this world."