"Ah," the woman said, taking CC's right hand in both of hers and turning it over so she could study her palm. "I knew it. She has touched you."

"She?" CC asked.

"The Great Mother." The woman didn't look up from CC's palm, but kept speaking matter-of-factly in her richly accented voice. "Yes, I saw it in your aura, and I see it clearly here. You are beloved by her."

"How—" CC started to ask, but the woman wasn't finished.

"But your journey will be long and arduous." She squinted at CC's palm like she saw something disturbing there.

"Well, I am leaving for a ninety-day TDY to Saudi Arabia tomorrow," CC said.

The woman's gaze lifted from CC's palm.

"No, little daughter, I do not mean a journey of distance. I mean a journey of spirit." CC was struck by a sense of familiarity as their eyes met. Then the woman abruptly dropped her hand and turned.

"Where is it?" The woman muttered to herself as she searched through a nest of hanging necklaces. "Ah, here you are." Triumphantly she held the necklace out to CC.

It was lovely. The silver chain was long and delicate, and suspended from it by a latticework of silver ivy was a glistening cinnamon-colored stone. It was about the size of CC's thumb and shaped like a perfect teardrop.

"Amber," the woman said. "It was formed by resin fossilized in the bosom of the earth."

"I've never had any amber," CC said. "But I've always thought it beautiful."

"This piece is the same color as your eyes." The woman smiled.

CC thought she was doing one heck of a sales job. "How much is it?" CC asked, returning the exotic woman's smile.

"This necklace is not for sale."

CC frowned. Was the woman trying to get her to look at a more expensive piece?

"This necklace is a gift." In one motion the woman placed it over CC's head.

"But, I can't accept this!" CC sputtered.

"You must. It is meant to be yours," she said simply. "And I sense that there has been a recent event for which a gift is appropriate. No?"

"Well, it was my birthday yesterday," CC admitted.

"Ah, a Samhain child. How appropriate. So you see, it is already yours. Take it with you on your journey. Wear it always. Amber is an earth stone. Know that it has the power to absorb negative energy and turn it to positive." The woman's eyes were dark and serious. "You may have need of it, little daughter." Then her eyes lightened and she hugged CC. "Now go home and prepare." She cocked her head like she was listening to something and added, "Your plants are calling you."

"Thank you," CC said. Blinking in surprise she let the woman turn her and give her a gentle push toward the front doors. The amber drop nestled heavy and warm between her breasts. CC touched the stone and her face broke into an amazed grin.

Dear Mrs. Runyan,

Thank you for taking care of my plants while I'm gone. I put the plant food next to the watering can in the kitchen. Please remember to feed them every two weeks. And it would be really nice if you'd talk to them a little, too. I know it sounds silly, but I think they like it. Enclosed you'll find my key and a gift certificate to Luby's Cafeteria. I hope you and your girlfriends have fun. I'll be home in ninety days. If anything goes wrong you have the number of my first sergeant on Tinker. Again, thank you so much.

CC P.S. Yes, you can borrow any of my videos! Enjoy!

CC slipped the letter into the envelope with her key and the Luby's gift certificate, then she slid it under Mrs. Runyan's apartment door. Mrs. Runyan was sweet and about a thousand years old, and she flat refused to take any money for watering CC's plants and keeping an eye on her apartment while she was gone. But CC knew that she and her girl-friends loved to go to Luby's after church on Sundays—so she'd splurged on a one-hundred-dollar gift certificate for her. CC wished she didn't have to leave so early, and she could be there to see the expression on Mrs. Runyan's kind face when she found the gift certificate. The thought made her smile in the predawn light while she struggled to carry her duffel bag, suitcase and carry-on bag down the three flights of winding steps and stuff them in the trunk of her car.

It was so early that the traffic to Tinker was unusually light, and CC's thoughts drifted back to the events of the past twenty-four hours. After she'd left the base and gone home, the rest of her day had been spent moving her horde of plants and finishing her packing.

There certainly hadn't been any magical happenings in any of that. That night she had even stood on the balcony trying to recapture the moonlit magic of the night before, but clouds had rolled in and there was no moonlight, nor any magic.

Could she have imagined the lady by the elevator yesterday? She didn't think so. The weight of the amber tear between her breasts told her the lady at the BX hadn't been a figment of her imagination, either. And why should she question and try to poke holes into what had happened? She wanted it to be true; she wanted magic in her life.

One hand crept up to rub the amber drop with restless fingers, and CC nervously checked the car clock. It was 0530, and she was almost to the base. The shuttle that would take her from Tinker to Will Rogers Airport left the base at 0615. Her flight departed Will Rogers for Baltimore at 0825. At Baltimore she would board a military charter that would take her to the U.S. Air Base in Italy. From there she would travel via an Air Force C-130 cargo plane to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The whole trip would total just over twenty-four hours, with about twenty of those hours spent in the air.

And she really didn't like to fly. Right now the sour feeling in her stomach was a silent testament to how much she was not looking forward to the long trip.

If her mom had been here she would berate her, for the thousandth time, for joining theair force.

"Well, honey," she would say, "why in the blue blazes would you join the flying branch of our armed forces when you're afraid to fly?"

CC's answer was always the same. "I researched it, Mom. The air force was the branch of the service that had the best overall package. And there are a lot of jobs in the air force that have nothing to do with flying. Mine, for one example."

Her mother would make a scoffing sound and shake her head. CC had to wonder if her parents really understood that her military job was much like a civilian position in a big multi-media corporation. She was in charge of quality assessment for the Base Communications Center. Did they think she was covertly flying fighter planes?

She usually had only one or two temporary duty assignments each year, and, yes, she had to fly to them, but that would be no different than what her schedule would be like if she had worked her way up in a civilian company. Many jobs required their employees to travel periodically.

Well, CC smiled to herself, civilian jobs didn't typically require their employees to travel periodically into war zones. Her smile tightened. She was good at her job, and she was well trained. And she believed in what she was doing. She didn't think of it as being a hero or particularly patriotic; she had simply chosen a career that gave her the opportunity to serve her country in a very visible way. And, she admitted to herself, she liked the adventure of the air force. There were always new people to meet and new places to go. CC thrived on change—she'd had enough stagnation in the first eighteen years of her small town life to last for the next fifty-eight.

She breathed deeply, trying to quiet her nerves. Actually, she realized that she was feeling more than the normal amount of her preflight jitters. Right now she'd rather face several members of the Taliban than a long airplane flight. Weird, she told herself, noting again the sick feeling in her stomach. Maybe she was having some kind of premonition of danger? Could she be ultranervous because her sixth sense was trying to tell her something?