"Cal and Selene's bodies were taken back to England, where they were cremated. Their urns were interred in a small family mausoleum near Selene's birthplace. Kennet swears he actually saw the bodies cremated. I believe he was telling the truth, or at least the truth as he knows it."

I felt a sense of relief. "I guess it can't be them, then."

"Not necessarily," said Alyce gently. "This tells us that neither Cal nor Selene had a chance to go back into their own bodies. But it doesn't mean their anams were destroyed-just their physical beings."

"But how could they survive this long?" I asked. "How could they get to me now?"

"I don't know," Alyce admitted. "That's one of the questions we need to answer."

"Let's talk about what actions we can take now," said Bethany firmly, and for the next hour she and Alyce coached me in both interactive and guided dreaming. Before I went to sleep, I could deliberately decide to take part in my dreams, to be able to take action in them. Once there I could guide my dreams the way I wanted them to go; for example, I could find a door, stop my car, be unafraid of anything I might see or hear.

"I know this will help. I just wish I didn't have to do any of this," I said.

"I understand," said Bethany. "But for tonight we'll try to give you a reprieve. I've created a very strong sleeping draught that should really knock you out, no dreams. If you do somehow dream, use the exercises we've gone over. But I'm confident that you'll wake up tomorrow feeling better, safer. And by tomorrow evening we hope to have more solid information about how dreams can be influenced either in the real world or from the netherworld."

"Thanks," I said. "I really appreciate you all helping me like this."

"Of course," Bethany said, and smiled.

I was supposed to be home by ten, so I got my jacket, took Bethany's little bottle, and said good-bye. Hunter wanted to walk me out, and I wasn't about to discourage him.

Outside, my car glowed under the streetlight, heavy and familiar and safe. I opened the door and leaned against it for a minute.

"I'm sorry, Morgan," said Hunter, brushing my hair back. "We'll fix this somehow, I promise."

"Thanks," I said. "I just feel… like I'll be paying for my mistakes for the rest of my life." The mistake of trusting Cal, of loving him.

"You won't," said Hunter, and he sounded so sure that I wanted to believe him. "Listen, do you want me to stay outside your house tonight? Just in case?"

I thought about it. "No," I decided. "The only time I sleepwalked was before any of you were helping me. I feel okay about the interactive dreaming stuff. Plus I have Bethany's magick potion." I held up the small purple bottle.

"All right," said Hunter, sounding reluctant. "But call me if you need anything."

"I will." We kissed and hugged, not wanting to let go.

Then I got in my car and started the engine. Hunter got smaller and smaller I my rearview mirror until I turned the corner at the next block.

8. Hunter

I got home from Bethany's by ten-fifteen and found Sky making a pot of tea.

"I knew there was a reason that I missed you," I said, and she swatted me with a tea towel. "Put out a mug for me, will you? Is Da out? Did you two talk much?"

She nodded, putting my mug on the table.

I love Sky, I respect Sky, and I know who Sky is underneath. She can be funny and warm and thoughtful. Though sometimes I worry that someone who doesn't know her like I do might be put off by how self-contained she is.

"He's something, your Da," she said, sitting down with her mug of tea. "He went out for an hour. Should be back soon. He seems quite different from the way you described him when you first saw him."

"He's night-and-day different," I assured her. "He's going to seem like my old da any day now."

Sky made a face at my cheekiness and took a sip of tea.

"How's your corner working out?" I asked. One thing none of us had thought of was that our house had only two bedrooms. Da had immediately offered to give up his, which had once been Sky's, but she wouldn't let him. I had done the chivalrous thing and offered my room, too. But I had to admit to myself that I was relieved when she didn't take me up on it. Not when I still had hopes of getting Morgan in there someday alone. So we had rigged up a makeshift curtain across a small alcove that might have once been a pantry, off the dining room. There was just enough space for a single futon, small table, and reading lamp. Oddly, it seemed to suit Sky's somewhat Spartan needs.

"Corner's fine," she said. "Very cozy. In fact, I'm heading there now. Jet lag is knocking me on my back." She stood up and automatically carried her mug to the sink.

"Good to have you back," I said, catching her hand as she went past. She gave mine a squeeze, then headed into the dining room.

Around eleven my father came home. I was waiting in the kitchen and had a mug of tea ready for him. He looked grateful, if somewhat surprised, at my thoughtfulness. He filled me in on his latest speaking dates, and I decided to let him in on Morgan's dreams. I felt a bit odd talking to him about it. Cal had been Da's son, just as much as I was. It wasn't hard for me to hate a half brother I had hardly known, but I knew that Da had much more conflicted feelings. For one thing, I knew he blamed himself for leaving Cal, his infant son, with Selene, in order to be able to marry my own mother, Fiona. He would always question whether Cal would have practiced dark magick if he'd grown up with us, in our family. We'd never know. I deliberately kept my tone as neutral as I could, but I saw a familiar weight bow his shoulders.

"That sounds bad," he said quietly, stroking his chin. "Do what you can, lad."

"What do you think of the possibility of Cal's anam coming back this way?"

"It would be extremely unusual," he said. "Despite all the fairy tales, it's incredibly difficult and rare for someone to come back from the netherworld-at least, not without a lot of help." His face was taut, and by unspoken agreement we didn't discuss how he had once supplied that help to others. "And I didn't know Cal, mind, but I wouldn't have thought he was strong enough."

"Right, that's what we think, too. And there's something else," I said, moving on quickly. I felt glad I had someone I could trust to talk about Patrice Pearson with. My father, for all his parental idiosyncrasies, could actually be very helpful at sorting out what was happening with the Willowbrook coven. I knew he could be trusted, and he was experienced in the ways of dark magick. I told him everything that Celia Evans and Robin Goodacre had told me, along with my own impressions of them. He listened attentively, giving a low whistle when I described how drained the women felt after a circle and how they sometimes felt they couldn't remember the entire evening.

"Sounds like a job for a Seeker," he said meaningfully, but I shook my head.

"I think I can do more not being a Seeker. Anyhow, I need to start investigating. I was wondering if you felt up to some spying and scrying tonight."

"Me?"

"Yes. I'm not sure how strong Patrice is-I could use someone else's powers, and then, you might also see things I would miss."

"Are you referring to breaking and entering?"

"Nooo. Strictly outside work."

He nodded, considering, then grinned. "Let me get my jacket."

Celia had given me Patrice's address, and we located it without much trouble. Forty minutes after leaving my place I drove past her house, which turned out to be a large, well-maintained Victorian in a historic section of Thornton. I parked around the corner, then made sure my mobile was on and set to vibrate. I had a faith that Bethany's potion would work, but I wanted to be available if Morgan needed me.