"I've been talking to some of the witches at Dubhlan Cuan, the retreat where our most talented and knowledgeable teachers are, up in northern Scotland. The short story is, they've agreed to accept you as a probationary student this summer."

She sounded incredibly excited.

"Hm!" I said.

"It would be an intensive eight-week course. You would have to pay your airfare, but everything else, room and board, would be covered. Morgan, this is the first time any American witch has been accepted for teaching, much less one as young as you and as relatively untrained, uninitiated. It's the chance of a lifetime, one that many, many witches can only dream of. You would be foolish not to take it."

"Why did they accept me?" I asked. Eoife hadn't even told me she was going to put in an application.

"Because of your power," Eoife said simply. "A witch like you comes along only once every several generations. Morgan," she said gently. "I really think these could be the most important eight weeks of your life. The summer session starts in mid-June and lasts until mid-August. Please tell me you'll come."

All kinds of thoughts were flying through my head. Bree and I had a tradition of driving over to the Jersey shore for a beach vacation. That would be out, and so would long summer evenings eating snow cones, all the dumb summer movies. It would mean I couldn't work and earn money this summer, money that I always depended on to supplement my pitiful allowance throughout the year.

On the other hand, Hunter was going to be in England during the summer. I hadn't even been able to think about the pain of that separation and how much I dreaded it. If I was up in Scotland, it would be easier to see him. And the idea of being in an all-witch environment, where everyone understood me, where no one was suspicious, sounded like heaven. I would learn so much.

"I would love to," I said at last, and immediately sensed Eoife's relief. "The problem is, I'll need to ask my parents. If I was going over there to study math, they would be packing my bags. But to study Wicca-it's not going to go over well." My heart began sinking as soon as I said that.

"I see," said Eoife. "Yes. That could be a problem. Do you think it would help if I talked to them?"

I thought about it. More likely that conversation would be an unmitigated disaster. "Urn, well, let me try asking them first. I'll let you know as soon as I can-and I'll really try to get them to agree. I really, really want to go."

"I'm glad," said Eoife. "Please do try, and let me know if it will help for me to talk to them. I'll call you soon for news, all right?"

"Yes. Thanks, Eoife. I really appreciate it." We hung up and I hurried downstairs just as I sensed Hunter coming up the walk.

He smiled when he saw me, his eyes examining me for signs of my horrible ordeal last night. We said good-bye to Mary K., and I grabbed my jacket. "So, horrible stress agrees with you," he said as we walked to his car. "You look like you just took a brisk walk in the fresh spring air."

I shrugged, feeling pleased. "Hunter, you'll never believe what just happened," I said, and on our way to Red Kill, I told him all about Eoife's amazing offer.

Hunter looked more and more astounded, and when we parked in front of Practical Magick, he leaned over and hugged me hard. "Morgan! That's brilliant! It's like winning the Nobel Prize as a teenager! Goddess, I'm so proud of you!" He looked at me, his hands on my shoulders, and I smiled somewhat self-consciously. "Have you asked your parents yet?"

"No-they're not home, and Eoife just called. I'll ask them soon, when I find a really good moment."

"It would be an amazing, incredible experience," he said. "I hope they let you take it."

We got out of the car and headed into the store. "Does Mary K. know?"

"I didn't have time to tell her. You came right then, and she was headed to Alisa's house. She's agreed to go to Alisa's dad's wedding."

"Good. I'm hoping they can work things out."

Alyce came forward to meet us and took both my hands as an interested young customer watched us. "Come into the other room," she said quietly. "Bethany's already here."

Alyce had moved another table and more chairs into the back room where Hunter worked. Because the room had a door that closed, it felt more private than the little back kitchen, which had only a curtain.

Again, I told them everything I could remember about my dream the previous night. I was already starting to forget details, and Hunter added things that I had told him when he'd first found me.

"To me, based on the things Cal was saying, it sounds like he simply can't let go of Morgan, can't accept that he's no longer part of her life," Hunter said, trying not to show how angry he was. "It's like he wants her with him."

"That could definitely be part of it," Bethany said. "But I think there's more to it than that. All the images of the fire- winged hawk-that's a common symbol for an uncommon person, a sgiurs dan."

Ciaran had called me a sgiurs dan, I remembered, but I hadn't known what to make of it.

"That's what I found out also," Hunter said. "And sgiurs dan basically means destroyer."

My eyebrows raised.

Alyce went on. "The research I've done in the last few days has turned up some interesting facts. First, the idea of the sgiurs dan seems particular only to the Woodbanes. The rough translation of the actual words is something like 'scourge of fate. But the references to it I found made it sound more like the Indian Siva, something that destroys or wipes clean but also clears a path for new beginnings."

"And I'm one?" I asked, my voice practically squeaking.

Alyce looked at me and took a deep breath. "Possibly," she said. "I don't know why Ciaran would lie about that. In Woodbane history there are mentions of sgiurs dans every few generations. They're almost always women, and it seemed that after they've lived, or because of them, the course of Woodbane history changes." "It could be coincidental," Hunter suggested. "A particularly charismatic or powerful witch comes along, and then they later attribute the change to her, identifying her as a sgiurs dan after the fact."

"Which doesn't explain why Morgan would be called one," said Bethany.

"I can't really find a connection to Morgan," Alyce admitted. "The last one seemed to be noted in 1902, and one source I found believes that person cleared the way for the creation of Amyranth."

"Great," I muttered, feeling a headache coming on.

"And then there was one back around 1820 or so," Alyce went on. "The sgiurs dan seems to be either light or dark, with no discernible pattern." She gave a sudden smile. "We're hoping you're light."

I made a thanks-a-lot face. "And this relates to me how?"

"We don't know," Alyce admitted. "It's just that you had dreams with images of a hawk that had wings made of fire. The only references we could find of that image were related to the sgiurs dan."

"At any rate, what's become quite clear is that these are definitely attacks against Morgan, and they're increasing in danger. They're now life-threatening, and they must be stopped," said Hunter.

"I agree," said Bethany.

"We have a plan," said Alyce, surprising me. She glanced across at Bethany. "We were working on it until late last night, and then today we think we've finished it-almost. The dreams are getting more realistic, more cohesive. I feel, and Bethany agrees, that there is a being behind this, probably Cal Blaire, though we're not totally certain. My theory is that as the dreams become more cohesive, so does this being, or this anam. The dreams are leading up to a climax: Morgan's death. The presence, for lack of a better word, is finding that it has to keep upping its power, upping the tricks it uses on Morgan."