Suddenly, my senses tingled and I felt Morgan outside of the house. When I opened the door, she was starting to walk back down to her car. "Morgan," I said.

She stopped walking, and slowly turned around, like she was caught in the act. "I should have called first," she said. "Maybe this isn't a good time."

"It's fine," I said. To be honest, I didn't mind any excuse for her to come over. "Come in."

She followed me into the house and sat down in a living-room armchair. I settled myself in across from her.

"So," I started when she didn't say anything. "Why are you here?"

"I didn't feel anything at our circle last night. I'm the one who always gets swept away, but..." she stalled, trying to reword, "Everyone else was transported, but I didn't get anything. I don't know if Cirrus is right for me anymore."

"Wicca isn't about getting things." I couldn't help reminding her.

"I know that," she snapped. "It's just-it's just that it doesn't usually happen to me." I could feel her eyes on me, and it made me feel self conscious. "It scared me," she said after a moment, "Like my powers would be gone forever. Did you do anything to damp down my power during the circle in any way?" That seemed like an unfair accusation to me, and I raised my eyebrows.

"If I were trying to control your power you'd known it. And it's not something I would do unless it were an emergency," I told her.

"Oh." She almost sounded disappointed.

I crossed my foot over my knee, tapping it absently. "Perhaps...my style doesn't bring out your potential." That was sort of disappointing, considering how strong she was, even if she hadn't been properly trained.

"Everyone else, it worked for them," she added. "They really liked how you did things."

That definently cheered me up. Thank the Goddess. At least I wouldn't be a total outcast now.

"They did? I'm glad." Then to my surprise, I blurted, "I haven't been that nervous since...well, never mind." I pressed my lips together to keep myself from saying anything I'd regret. I wasn't used to opening up to people, and I wondered if I was doing it for the sake of an attractive face.

"You were nervous?" She sounded pleased. "The mighty Hunter?"

I leaned forward, and stared into the fire, although it's warmth barely reached me. "Don't you think I know how highly you all thought of Cal? Especially you." Most importantly, you, I added silently. "I knew no one really wanted me taking over. And a part of me thought: Well, maybe they're right. Maybe I can't lead a circle as well as he did. God knows he's more at ease with people than I'll be." I didn't even stop to wonder why I was telling her this. I felt like I could trust her, and the words just sort of fell out. When I felt her staring at me, I felt self-conscious again.

Another thought occurred to me. "I always thought my father would be there when I took over as a coven leader," I thought aloud. "It felt strange to take the step without him."

She nodded. "Like trying to learn about my birthright without my birth parents. I felt like something was missing." She was right, they did seem similar. Somehow the thought was comforting.

"Yes. Without Dad, being coven leader is all that more daunting." I felt almost comfortable talking to her about it. Almost.

"What made you decide to do it, then?" she asked.

I had to smile at that, and I gazed up at her, grinning. "The thought that you might try to lead them. I couldn't risk that."

She looked offended at that. "Hey, I didn't come here to be insulted." Goddess, it was impossible to win with her.

I laughed at that. "Oh, stop. I didn't mean it as an insult. I only meant that you're a bit of a loose cannon because you've got all this power and no training, It's not an incurable condition."

"Glad to know I'm not terminal," she muttered under her breath. I heard her anyway.

She needed to take this seriously. "Morgan, listen to me. You have so much potential---it's very exciting, I know. But you've got to learn how to rein in and focus your power. For your own good as much as anything else. All that power makes you like a beacon. You're a walking target." I knew I was probably scaring her, but she would need to see the truth. She was going to be in danger for much of her life. I was used to it by now, but this was all new to her. The sooner she learned, the better.

She sat forward in her chair. "There's something I need to tell you about," she said. She explained that she had felt a dark force in her room and by a mechanics' garage."Do you have any idea what it as?" she asked, after the explanation.

That definently worried me. "That is not good. It could have been another witch, cloaking him or herself. It sounds more like a taibhs, a dark spirit, though."

"The first time, when I sensed it in the middle of the night, I had the impression that whatever it was, it wasn't aimed at me. But after what happened at the garage, I'm not so sure. Do you think it's been following me?"

"You would have sensed that, I think." I stood up and went to look out the window. There was nothing there, of course. "But we've got to assume that it wasn't a coincidence, either. It was looking for you. And it found you."

"Did Selene send it? Or...Cal?" Her voice was low, and I knew it still caused her pain to think about.

"More likely Selene," I told her. "To her your powers is an irresistible lure, almost as much as Belwickets' tools are. If she can't coerce with you to join her group, she wants to absorb your power. It would increase her own to the point here she'd be practically invincible."

She seemed to think about that for a moment. "They're really evil, aren't they?" she asked finally "Selene and...and Cal."

Bloody hell. These were just the sort of questions I didn't want to answer. I took some branches and added them to the fire. I wasn't about to do anything to improve her opinion of Cal, but I wasn't going to lie to her, either. "Cal...is his mother's creation. I don't know if I'd call him evil." I glanced up and grinned at her again, "Besides, that's not a nice thing to say about one's own kin, is it?"

This time she smiled back at me, her mouth softening. "As for Selene," I continued, "She's ambitious and ruthless. She studied with Clyda Rockpel." When she shook her head to show she didn't know who she was, I said, "Clyda Rockpel was a Welsh oodbane who as legendarily vicious. She's said to have murdered her own daughter to enhance her power. And it's certainly true that wherever Selene goes, witches tend to disappear or die. Destruction seems to follow in her wake. Yes, I would agree that she is truly evil." As was her son.

Her gaze softened, and I realized she must have been thinking about Cal. I realized it he really hadn't had a choice, considering who her mother was. "Poor Cal," I said quietly. I met her gaze.

Suddenly, something changed. I felt like I was seeing beyond her eyes, into her soul, and I remembered the exact same thing that happened that other night behind her house. It felt like there was a whole universe in her gaze, a whole world that I'd only just discovered. I remembered all the lightness and kindness I'd seen in tath meanma, a world of happiness and hope that clashed so horribly with what was inside of me.

I wanted so much to run my fingers along her skin, feel her body pressed against mine. I wanted to kiss her mouth, to meet her lips with my own. I wanted to hold her and take away all the pain Cal had brought on her. And I knew, I could sense, that she wanted it, too.

She blinked and said unsteadily, "I-I've got to go home," and the moment was over, proving once again just how much she hated me. It couldn't really be any more obvious, yet I persisted to make a fool of myself.

I could feel my cheeks heat up, and I knew that despite my Seeker control, I was blushing. Nice, Niall. Real slick."Right," I said. I didn't want my voice to crack so I cleared my throat, and hoping to sound masculine, I said, "Wait just a moment. I've got some books for you."

I went into the hallway and pulled books of shelves. I tried desperately to compose myself again. I went back, my voice returning to normal. "Here. An advanced compendium of runic alphabets, Hope Whitelaw's critique of Erland Erlandsson's numerological system, and a guide to the properties of stones, minerals, and metals. Start with these, and when you're finished them, we'll talk about them. Then I'll give you more."

She nodded and took the books, and I was grateful that she didn't touch my hands.

She went out into her car, although by the time she had pulled out, I was already upstairs and collapsed on my bed, trying to make sense of the world.