I blinked. "What?"

"You burned the bread and the salt," she explained. "You called me."

"Oh," I said, confused. I looked around. I was back in the cottage, in the same clothes. Gabby was in the same clothes. A clay pitcher sat on the table. I reached for it and poured a glass of what looked like milk into one of the clay cups next to it. I took a sip, definitely milk.

Gabby tilted her head, looking concerned. "Are you all right, my child?"

I clutched the cup in both hands and stared into the milk. Tears fell from my eyes, one plinking into the milk. "No," I whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you…"

Gabby took a step towards me. "My child, you can always call me. What is the problem?"

I ignored that question for a minute. "Did… uh… Is that why I only needed to burn off a little bit of excess tonight?" I asked.

"It did take some of your power to call me," Gabby said. "So, I think that the answer is yes." Her eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "Do you need to burn off your 'excess' as you call it every day?"

I nodded. "Otherwise I set fires around me while I sleep."

She took another step toward me and when I didn't react, another, until she sat down in the chair next to me and put her arm around me. "My dear child, that is barbaric. A priestess of mine should never have so little control!"

I flushed, holding the cup tighter. "It's the only way I know," I said.

"Is this why you called me?" Gabby asked.

"I didn't mean to call you. It was an accident," I said. Now that I was thinking about it, I remembered what she had told me in my last dream: throw bread and salt in a fire to call her and repeat the blessing. "I didn't say the words," I said. "'Sacred Gabija, be satisfied.' I didn't say that."

"My priestess, the power you sent out with the offering was more than enough. You obviously needed me. Tell me why," she whispered, sliding her hand onto my neck and pulling me to her. She was warm and soft. I took another sip of the milk.

"Dean is gone," I said, tears filling my eyes and my voice cracking. "He's gone to hell. I'll never see him again, even if I die, even if I go to heaven." I wiped my eyes and Gabby handed me a bright red kerchief. I clutched it in one hand as I continued. "Sam…" I said. "Sam is seeking the help of a demon to get revenge, using his powers to kill the demon that dragged Dean to hell. But all she's going to do is try to trick him, get him to do something that condemns him, too. Dean told him not to, but he's still going to do it." My voice caught. "He won't listen to me."

Gabby's gentle hand caressed my shoulder, turning me towards her, offering me comfort. I sighed and leaned into her softness. "My child," she whispered into my hair, "let me comfort you. Let me help you. Let me teach you. I can show you so much. You do not need to depend on these frail humans who will only let you down."

Her words shot through me like an arrow. What the hell was I doing pouring my heart out to her? Dean had told me; Sam had told me. I jerked away from her, dropping the kerchief and the cup. The cup shattered, the milk spattering on the wooden floor.

"No," I said. "You'll only lead me astray. Dean said you'd only lead me astray."

Leaning back in her chair and no longer touching me, Gabby laughed. "My child, my priestess, lead you astray? How? I am trapped here. I have almost no power in the modern world. My influence can only spread when I am worshiped, when bread and salt is burned and the blessing is spoken, by more than just you."

"People still worship you today," I said. "The Wikipedia said so. Some Lithuanian people will still burn bread and salt at their hearths."

"In the winter," Gabija said. "Or when they are having a meal cooked over fire, but most use modern stoves, electricity or gas. My worshippers have thinned and the times they call upon me are few and far between. I am powerless. You do not need to fear me."

I stared at her. Could she be telling the truth? I remembered how afraid I was for Sam, what he had told me about demons and goddesses tricking people, what we had talked about when we talked about my weaknesses: my lack of control over my fire, my temper, my desire to help them hunt, my desire to keep them safe, my lack of concern for my own safety, the feeling of immortality that someone my age has, my need for love and acceptance. None of these were necessarily bad things, he'd said. They were just the things that someone could use to manipulate me. I needed to be aware of these things so I could tell when someone was manipulating me.

Was she manipulating me, or did she actually want to help me? I didn't know. I needed to talk to someone about it. I decided not to decide tonight.

"Gabby," I started.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Gabby?" she asked, her voice rising a bit.

I flushed. "Sorry," I said. "I just… I call you that in my head."

Her eyes narrowed. "To mock me?"

Well, yes, but I wasn't going to tell her that. "No," I said, thinking fast. "Because I feel like I can talk to you if I think of you as a Gabby and not a Gabija."

She looked at me for a second longer as if trying to decide if I were lying. I tensed waiting for her judgment. "I do wish for you to feel as though you can talk to me," she said after that second passed. "I would rather that you call me Gabija or 'my goddess', but if you must…"

I relaxed, but decided to just not use her name if I could help it. I didn't wish to anger the goddess and there was no way I was going to call her 'my goddess.' "You can teach me to control my flame?" I asked softly.

She leaned forward in her chair and put her hand on my knee. "My child, the things I can show you. There is so much, but first I need to get a sense of what you can do. I need you to allow me inside you, to feel your furnace."

I blinked at her. "What?" I asked.

"I need to know the extent of your abilities," she said, eagerness in her eyes. "I need to see what you can do before I can teach you to control it."

The fierceness and hunger in her eyes scared me. It was like she was starving and I was her meal. I swallowed. "I don't think that's…" I started.

As I spoke, she shook herself and sat back in her chair, closing her eyes halfway. "I apologize," she said, interrupting me. "I did not mean to frighten you."

I shut up and looked at my feet. "I don't understand," I said. "If you gave me my abilities, how can you not know what they are? What I can do?"

She sighed. "I merely unblocked the passage in you, letting the fire out. I do not know how deep it goes."

I tried to run my hand through my hair, but ran into the wreath of yellow flowers on my head. I'd forgotten it was there. I pulled it off my head and dropped it on the wooden table. "I need to think," I murmured.

A look of frustration crossed Gabby's face and was gone so fast that I thought I might have imagined it. "Of course, my child," she said. "You know how to call me when you need me, yes?"

I nodded. She smiled, but it didn't seem entirely sincere. "Return to me soon, my priestess. I will think of you while you're gone."

I sighed. "I know I'll be thinking of nothing else but you," I said. She waved her hand.

And I woke in my bedroll. Moonlight streamed through the windows, decorating my bed and me with lines of dull grayish-white light. Listening, I could hear Sam and Ruby still talking faintly. I considered going to Sam and telling him what had happened. If Ruby hadn't been there, I definitely would have. I'd've been waking him up if he were asleep, telling him everything Gabby said, asking for his advice.

But now, Ruby was there and I didn't like her. I didn't trust her. I couldn't because Dean hadn't. My hand went to the pendent I wore around my neck always, even when I showered. I twirled it in my fingers. I missed Dean so bad.

I couldn't talk to Sam, not about this, not until I knew what was going on with Ruby, if he was trying to use her for his own purposes or if I'd lost him to her influence. I sure hoped it was the first and not the second.

Because if it was the second… well… I didn't really have anyone left to turn to.