"You think she's mad at us?"

Roxy rolled her eyes and shifted into third, a quick flip of her wrist sending her ancient MG hurtling into what looked like a four-foot space between two semis. Once I stopped screaming and peeled my hands from my eyes, I turned to glare at her.

"No, I don't think Miranda is mad at us."

"Oh, good." If there's one rule I try to live my life by, it's not to make a witch angry.

"I think she's mad at you."

"She is not," I said indignantly, trying to adjust my legs. In the tiny car, my knees were pretty much jammed under my chin. It's been my experience that people who are six feet tall and built like a brick house don't fit well into tiny sports cars. "You're the one who had to go babbling on and on about how you believe in the Dark Ones."

"Well, I do. You do, too."

"I do not."

"Ha! Just last week when you finished Book of Secrets XII you said that Xavier was the hunkiest Moravian yet, and that if you had been around, he never would have had to face The Decision by himself because you would have been there to save him before he became that desperate. Go on, tell me you didn't say that. Tell me you didn't call dibs on him before I could."

"Fwah! I don't believe in any of that hocus-pocus, and you know it."

"If you don't believe, why do you read rune stones for people, hmmm?"

I gave her a jaded smile. "Because they're pretty. You know full well it's just a party trick, nothing more."

"Ha! A party trick doesn't explain - "

"LOOK OUT! Dammit, Roxy, will you watch where you're going? You almost gave me a heart attack!"

She honked and waved at the semi truck driver as we swerved around it, zooming down the long, curving highway so characteristic of the wild, untamed back roads of Oregon. I read her the riot act on trying to kill us through careless driving, which she responded to with injured silence. I took advantage of the quiet to think over the events of the evening. Evidently, Roxy was doing the same.

"Joy?"

"What?"

She said nothing for a minute. "You know, you don't have to go to Czechoslovakia with me."

"It's the Czech Republic now."

"Oh." An owl flirted with the car's high beams, a flash of ghostly white wing catching my peripheral vision before it melted into the darkness. "Whatever they're calling it now, I appreciate the offer to come with me, but given what Miranda said... "

I swallowed hard and gnawed on my lip, trying to remind myself that I didn't believe in any of the things Miranda said she could do, or see, or manifest. Most were coincidences that would have happened regardless of whether or not she was seeking the advice of some greater being. I was a sensible person. I didn't believe in Bigfoot, or ghosts, or vampires, or even the powers held by white witches.

"... Well, I just want you to know that I won't hold you to your offer. Of keeping me out of trouble after the Book Fair, that is. You can spend your two-week holiday tooling around Europe and seeing Paris like you had originally planned. I'm sure I won't have any trouble getting to the Czech Republic by myself." She offered me a weak grin. I bared my teeth in what I hoped was a semblance of a smile, and returned to staring out the window at the passing night and trying to rub the goose bumps from my arms.

Roxy's session with Miranda had gone just fine, no surprise to me since everyone liked Roxy. She was petite, had curly black hair and blue eyes that made her look like an elf or pixie or one of those cute little munchkin people. Men generally feel all masculine and protective of her, and erroneously assume she's shy and delicate despite the fact that she has the constitution and willpower of an ox. She was to have it all, the Goddess told her through Miranda. She was to meet her perfect man before the moon rose and set again; she would give her heart and receive one in return; she would fulfill the destiny laid before her feet. I could practically hear the Disney chorus of woodland creatures breaking into song, what with all the sweetness and light that rilled Miranda's living room... until she'd scried my future.

The wind seemed to forespell my doom as it gusted into the room, blowing out half the candles in the circle, and sending the spray of rose petals around us dancing into the far corners of the room. Roxy leaped up to close the French doors as Miranda quickly relit the candles. Once settled, she waved at me to begin reciting my part of the Invocation. I felt a bit like an idiot, but knew there was no way Roxy would let me out of there without giving the Goddess a shot at me.

"Power of earth to move his feet Across the mountains, here to me. Water's power to plumb the depths Of the storm-toss'd briny sea. True love's image, I invoke Powers of air, and red-hot fire; One to burn him with my glance, One to stoke my heart's desire. Seven knots I double-tie Moon and candles light the way, Seven knots for me and love. Entangled heart in heart to stay."

"So, what do you see?" I asked impatiently a few minutes later as Miranda stared sightlessly into a bowl of water. "Do you see Mr. Right? Is he cute? Does he look like he's really loaded in the groinal region?"

"Joy!"

I made a face at Roxy and turned back to Miranda. Her eyes had lost their focus as they did when she scried Roxy's future, but there was something different about her bearing now, something tense and unyielding that was in direct contrast to the relaxed posture she had with Roxy. Davide rose to his feet and started to stalk toward me, the hair on his back rising as he approached me.

"Jeezumcrow, that's a little creepy," I muttered, getting a serious case of the willies as the cat stopped about six feet in front of me, his yellow eyes never wavering from me. Miranda started to speak, so low both of us leaned forward in order to hear her better. Her low monotone, so different from her normally warm voice, added to the eerie atmosphere, and it took a few minutes before I could understand her words. Outside, the wind suddenly picked up, slamming into the house, tiny ticks and thumps indicating that debris and pinecones were being kicked around in the wind.

"All this needs is some lightning and a ghostly figure with a red-stained butcher knife suddenly appearing in the window," I said in an undertone to Roxy. What I had intended to be a light, joking tone came off as pregnant with foreboding. She looked at me with large, serious eyes.

A shiver went down my spine suddenly, the old someone stepping on your grave feeling my grandmother used to talk about. My arms were goose-bumped all the way up to my shoulders despite the warm night. If only the cat would stop staring at me like I was a three-headed Hydra, I'd be OK.

Miranda's voice strengthened, but she didn't seem to be speaking in English. I glanced back at Davide. He appeared to have been turned into a stone statue that sat staring at me.

"Aren't cats supposed to see ghosts?" I asked Roxy.

She nodded, one hand reaching over to grasp mine. I tried to tell myself to relax, that this was all in fun, that I was simply humoring a friend, but the air inside the room was almost blue with static electricity. When the hairs on my arm all suddenly stood on end, I decided skepticism was for the dogs, and I was ready and willing to believe whatever it took to get me safely out of this situation.

"You will take a trip."

The words, clearly spoken in the quiet of the room, made us both jump. Miranda was still staring at her bowl of water, her face pale and drawn. As her words sank in, I relaxed and disengaged my hand from Roxy's, giving her a little pat in the process.

"Yes, that's right. I told you we were going to Germany."

"You will take a trip unlike any other you have taken."

I relaxed even more, a faint burble of relieved laughter building inside. After this weird setup, all I was going to get was the standard "cross my palms with silver" fortune reading? No problem! I'd play along. "Two for two, I've never been to Europe before."

"You will travel by water, held firmly in the Goddess's womb, protected but not protected, in danger but not in danger."

"Um... OK." I tried to remember if there were any boat trips needed to get to Frankfurt. There were none that I could think of. And what was all that about being held in the Goddess's womb? It didn't sound like a particularly enjoyable or comfortable way to travel unless there was lots of legroom inside.

"A child of darkness will cross your path."

My jaw dropped as Roxy sat bolt upright next to me, clutching my hand again. A child of darkness? Was Miranda talking about a Moravian? A Dark One? No, she couldn't be, she didn't believe they existed... or did she? She never really came right out and said they didn't exist, she just went off about how dangerous it was to toy with the darkness within, and all that business. She couldn't really be saying what I thought she was saying, could she? I slid a glance over to Roxy. Her eyes were hollowed as she looked back at me and mouthed, "Vampire."

"The child of darkness will hold your fate in his hands, but you must not be blinded by his unholy attraction, for down that path lies eternal night."

Well, that didn't sound good!

"Um." My voice came out a squeak deep in my throat. I cleared it, glancing nervously at Davide. He continued his stare-a-thon. "When you say 'child of darkness,' what exactly do you mean?"

"His soul is a well of despair. A great wind howls within him, but you must not be tempted to save his soul, for his is a path you cannot take."

"Oh my God," Roxy whispered, her fingernails digging into my arm. "Oh my God, Joy, do you know what she's saying?"

Oh, sure, I knew what she was saying. I was about to walk straight into the arms of some axe-murdering maniac.

"This child of darkness that you see," Roxy asked, loosening her grip when I tried to pry her fingers off my wrist. "Is this the man who is Joy's soul mate? Is this the man you see as part of her future?"

Oh my Lord, what a horrible thought! I had a quick flash of me standing in an antiseptic prison room marrying a man with tattoos all over his head.

"The one filled with despair is part of it, but he is separate, holding himself aside. There is a second man, a shadow, who stands behind the child of darkness."

Great! Two axe murderers! I'd get to commit bigamy with two homicidal maniacs. Oh, lucky, lucky me!

"Gark," I said.

Roxy hushed me. "Be quiet or you'll have to leave. I'm trying to figure this out for you. Miranda, or whoever is talking through you right now, could you please be a little more specific about these two men you see? I don't quite understand how they can be her future and yet be such a threat to her."

Miranda shook her head slowly, her eyes roaming blindly around the room as if she were seeking something but not finding it. Her gaze settled on me as she reached for the crystal hanging from her neck. "I cannot see clearly, the vision is fogged. It could be that the child of darkness is trying to create an illusion, or it could be the shadow cast by the second one that is tainting the image. All that is clear to me is danger, mortal danger to your soul when you are in the child of darkness's presence. You must be careful which man you choose, for to decide unwisely between the two will cast your soul into eternal night."

Suddenly Miranda's eyes focused and color rushed back to her face. The weight of her gray-eyed gaze left me feeling as if she had brushed her fingers against my flesh. She blinked a couple of times and looked between the two of us. "Why are you both staring at me with your mouths hanging open?"

"Oh, no reason," I said in a tight, choked voice. "No reason at all, unless you count your prediction that I'll end up a soulless, tormented who-knows-what living the life of the undead in eternal night a reason."

Miranda looked at Roxy. "Did I say that?"

She nodded, slowly relaxing her grip on my hand. "You weren't too clear, though; what you said was pretty vague. I couldn't understand if it was the Moravian who is Joy's perfect man, or the someone evil behind him."

"Either way, it sounds like if I hook up with either one of the two guys you mentioned, I'm sure to end up a zombie-woman, roaming the earth forever in search of a soul. That's not exactly what was on my list of required elements of my perfect mate, eh?"

Miranda opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. She looked drained, exhausted, and suddenly I was overcome with guilt at making light of something she took seriously, especially when she was trying to do us a favor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that to sound so flip. I truly wouldn't want you to think I wasn't taking this seriously, or was wasting your talents. I can see this type of ceremony takes a lot out of you. We both owe you for this, big-time."

"Speak for yourself," Roxy snapped, sounding more like herself as she started blowing out the candles still burning around us. "I'm not the ungrateful beast you are. I gave Miranda that old Herbal I found at the estate sale."

"Ah." I thought for a moment of a way to repay Miranda without involving money, something I knew she felt was taboo. I snapped my fingers as an idea occurred to me. "I know! I'll donate my time at the next Womyn's Magyck Festival. I could set up a booth and cast rune stones again... "

"Goddess help us, no!"

I blinked at the outburst. Miranda's auburn curls stood out in agitation as if she had been running both hands through them. Her pale gray eyes glistened with strong emotion as she leaned forward and, avoiding the flames of the candles still burning in front of me, carefully took both of my hands in her own. I peered over her shoulder. Roxy was nodding sanctimoniously and petting Davide.

"Promise me... no, swear to me that you won't ever cast your rune stones in public again! Not after the last time!"

I looked back at the witch. "But - "

"Swear!"

"Miranda, that was just a fluke. It could never happen again - "

"SWEAR!"

"I'm not the least bit psychic, remember? You told me that everyone had some sort of psychic ability, even if it was buried deep where the person wouldn't recognize it. Everyone but me, that is. You told me that! You said I hadn't even an atom of psychic ability, so you can't possibly blame the... the... happenings on me and my innocent little rune stones!"

"Swear you won't cast them again or I will ask the Goddess to remove her protection! Without her blessing, you will not be successful at any task you undertake."

I pulled my hands from hers. "Well, I don't think that's very nice of you, and I just bet your Goddess doesn't like to be used like a revolving door. Besides, I don't know what you're complaining about. That earthquake had nothing to do with my casting. It was just a very odd coincidence that the stones suggested Lydia would bring down the wrath of Odin if she continued to ignore the warnings sent her."

"You said the earth would tremble with Odin's wrath if she didn't heed the warnings," Roxy piped up. I frowned at her.

"You are not helping matters, missy. What I told Lydia was standard rune stone-reading talk. Everyone says stuff like that. It's in all of the books."

"Joy, you predicted that Lydia's courage would be shaken if she didn't alter her course; you didn't say the earth would tremble under the entire northern California coast!" Miranda looked grim.

"Well... Odin was very strong. I guess his wrath just kind of spilled out... "

"And the fire? What about the fire? Miranda, ask her about the fire!"

I raised one eyebrow and ignored both of them to look out the window in silent contemplation of the blue-black clouds racing across the face of the silver crescent of moon. There were times when it was simply best to say nothing at all.

"Loreena," Roxy nudged Miranda. I sent her a silent cease-and-desist semaphore with my eyebrows that she summarily ignored.

"I haven't forgotten that," Miranda said slowly, her gaze holding mine. "That was your first reading, wasn't it? You predicted that Loreena Bronze would be cleansed and reborn just as the phoenix was... rising from the ashes."

I couldn't help myself. I pursed my lips and twisted my fingers together. It had been an odd coincidence that I had seen fire in the leader of Miranda's coven's future. Still... "Stranger things have been known to happen."

Miranda took a calming deep breath, stretching her arms to the side as she inhaled, crossing her wrists gracefully over one another as she exhaled. Roxy plopped a pillow down on the floor next to her and dropped onto it. "Don't forget the rainstorm, the one that struck the North Shore. You do remember that nice couple who you predicted would be taking a long journey by water?"

"Well, they did." I stared at my fingers. They suddenly looked fascinating. There was a whole world of entertainment to be found in cuticle gazing.

"Their house slid off the cliff into the ocean!"

"That's a journey by water in my book. How either of you can blame a rainstorm on my rune stone reading - "

"Joy, you cast your stones for eleven people that day, and of those eleven castings you saw disaster in ten, four of which involved natural disasters that manifested within three weeks," Miranda said firmly. "The Womyn's Magyck Festival Council has forbidden you ever to cast your stones within their domain. They would have banned you completely except they knew how much you help out at the Shoppe."

"And how much you donate each year in support of the Council," I muttered darkly.

Miranda waved a hand. "Exactly. So no rune stones! I might have been a little hasty in suggesting you don't have any psychic ability. You do seem to have one."

I looked up from cuticle watch, shooting a smug glance at Roxy to make sure she was listening. "Oh? What do I have? Precognition? Clairvoyance? The ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound?"

She ignored my attempt at humor. "No. I think you're cataclysient."

Huh? "Cataclysient? Is that a word?"

"What does it mean?" Roxy asked.

Miranda closed her eyes, breathed in deeply the scent of the herbs bound into the invocation candles, and traced an ancient symbol of protection in my general direction. "It means when you cast your rune stones you have the dangerous and uncontrolled ability to call down cataclysmic disasters."

Roxy snickered. I was stunned by Miranda's outrageous, and patently false, claim. I stood up, saying, "You're making that up. There is no such word as cataclysient, and even if there was, I'm not it. I'm just a simple woman trying to do you a favor, and I resent the fact that you can think something so ridiculous about me. Sheesh!"

"Oh, I don't know," Roxy started to say. I mouthed that I'd get her later. She just grinned and continued on. "There's just something about you that shrieks cataclysmic disaster. I think Miranda's dead on."

"You would."

"Ladies!"

We stopped sniping and looked at our friend. She shook her Invocation candle at us. "I don't know what exactly the Goddess chose to reveal to your eyes, but I do know this - you are taking her gift far too lightly. There is purpose behind everything she reveals, and if you do not take careful heed of her warnings, you will suffer."

"Are you trying to scare us?" I asked.

"If she is, she's doing a good job," Roxy muttered sotto voce. I agreed wholeheartedly.

"Yes, I am, if that's what it will take to bring you to your senses. The Goddess did not share her vision of your future with me, Joy, but this I sense: If you continue down the path you have started, you place your life, your very soul, at risk. Please keep the Goddess's words close to your heart, and make no foolish decisions."

It wasn't so much Miranda's words, but the almost tangible sense of fear surrounding her that remained with me, still palpable almost an hour later as we drove through the winding roads toward the small town on the southern Oregon coast where we lived.

"What are you going to do?" Roxy asked.

"About what?"

She shot a fast glance at me out of the corner of her eye as she turned down the street where I lived in a tiny studio apartment. "About our trip. I know you think I'm an idiot to spend my two weeks in Europe hunting down a Dark One, but I was hoping you'd come with me because I think we'd have a lot of fun. Now... well, now you have a really good reason to go to Paris instead."

I shrugged. "You know, I like Miranda a lot, she's a very kind and giving person, but I have to tell you - it just rankles when someone tells me not to do something. It makes me all that much more determined to do it. And this whole business with the 'child of darkness,' and a soulless wonder - well, you have to admit it sounds like it's straight out of a book. And not a very well-written one, either."

Roxy pulled into the driveway leading to my apartment. "So you're going to come with me, then? You'll help me find a Moravian Dark One?"

"No." I levered myself out of her car, making yet another mental promise that I'd never ride in that car again without first losing twenty pounds. "I won't help you find a make-believe being that doesn't exist anywhere but in the world of fiction; however, I will go with you to the Czech Republic, but only because it's an historic area that sounds interesting, and because you have absolutely no ability with foreign languages. I'd never be able to live with myself if you ended up in some Czech prison because you inadvertently propositioned some policeman rather than asking him where the nearest toilet was. I'll come with you, but don't expect me to pander to your idiocy over vampires and others of their ilk."

She grinned, her eyes shadowed in the flat glow of the overhead light. "Dante's castle is next door to the town I'm going to, you know. You said you want to see some castles while we're in Europe, and if we hang around Dante's long enough, we might get a glimpse of him. I'm going to take all my books just in case we can corner him."

"That poor man," I said in mock sorrow, shaking my head as I retrieved my purse from the back seat.

"Why is he a poor man?"

"I'm sure the last thing he envisioned when he started writing books was the hordes of ravening women who would turn stalker just to get his autograph." I flashed her a quick grin before I closed the door on her outraged protests.

I waved and toddled up the stairs to my attic apartment, a vague uneasy feeling still gripping me despite my determination to pooh-pooh the evening's events.

Miranda's predictions weren't real, couldn't be real, I told myself. At least, they weren't real in any sense a normal, feet-on-the-ground woman of moderate intelligence would recognize.

So why did I feel like I was being dragged slowly, but inexorably, to the edge of a black chasm from which there was no return?