Open your circle, scatter the salt along the floor, then sweep it all up and dump it out your window.

See you at dinner!

I picked up the mug and sniffed it. It was still quite warm. It smelled like-and I know this will shock you-herbs. Between you and me, I'd be so thrilled to just have a nice cuppa Lipton. If one can get sick of herbs, and I believe one can, then I was well on my way to being sick of herbs.

Down the hatch with the tea. It wasn't very pleasant, and a little shot of brandy would have gone a long way to improving it. But I got it down. Then I went and checked out the robe in the wardrobe. Quick aside: The word cupboard is about as descriptive and simple as you can get. It began, literally, as a board to put your cups on, way back in the day. And wardrobe? Ward-robe. It would ward, or guard, your robes. Your gowns. Interesting, eh? Stick with me-you'll learn a lot. Not all of it reprehensible.

The robe, which I hadn't seen before, was of heavy white linen, washed to be very soft. It was simple, like a nightgown, and had runes embroidered in white thread around the neckline. I saw kenaz, which meant revelation, knowledge, vision. Algiz, as a ward-evil. Laguz-water? I had just relearned all this. Right-water, dreams, fantasies, visions. Berkano was the symbol for female fertility, growth, and renewal. Fabulous. I turned the gown in my hands and saw dagaz, daybreak or dawn. Awakening, awareness. Finally, at the back of the neck was othala. I let out a breath. Othala stood for one's heritage-literally, the land or estate that one inherited, one's birthright.

The estate that I was the sole inheritor of had been destroyed, razed to the ground, when I was ten. I saw its rubble when I was sixteen. Had never been able to bring myself to go back after that.

I pa.s.sed Anne on my way to the bathroom. She came out, face flushed from steam, dark, fine hair sticking wetly to her head. She smiled when she saw me and kissed both of my cheeks as if she hadn't seen me in a long time.

"I love New Year's Eve," she said. "I'm very glad you're with us."

I was still unused to all this open expression of feeling and replied with an embarra.s.sed, troglodyte mumble.

"Tonight will be very exciting," Anne said, not put off by my cloddishness. "Be sure to wear your new robe to dinner-everyone else will."

"What will we do at the circle?" I asked.

"A New Year's circle is usually designed to help us clarify things in our past and give us an inkling of what the future holds for us," Anne said. "People often have visions of events that have yet to happen."

"Ew," I said. I myself almost always had visions during magickal circles, and they were pretty much always heinous.

Anne laughed. "It'll be okay," she promised. "We'll all be there together."

I nodded somewhat glumly and went to take a ritual bath.

CHAPTER 5.

My post-bath hour of meditation was a failure. I'd been spooked by Anne's prediction of vision-seeing tonight, and was still all jangled and raw-feeling from last night's nightmare about Incy, remembering my family today, the at-work incident that I was done thinking about, and the whole ongoing Reyn thing.

Still, obedient Nastasya made a circle with salt, lit a candle, and sat there till my b.u.t.t was completely numb. Finally I sighed, blew out the candle, and sprinkled the salt everywhere as instructed. I got the broom from down the hall and swept my room, then dumped it all out the window.

I looked at the robe lying on my bed. I would feel stupid wearing this. It was so... cliched, the robed witches dancing around a fire at midnight. Maybe I would suddenly come down with something. Stomach flu. Maybe I should just go to bed and stay there all night. Maybe I should- Knock knock.

It was Brynne-I felt her vibrant energy.

"Yeah?" I called.

The door opened. Brynne stood there, beautiful in a scarlet robe. She was our only black member-we weren't an incredibly diverse bunch (I mean here at River's Edge; immortals in general were of course plenty diverse-just about every culture has them)-and to me looked the most teenagery. Her finely boned face was beautiful, and she was long and lean, like a Brncusi sculpture. Only smoother. I felt short, pale, and plain next to her.

Seeing me sitting on my bed, she laughed. "I knew you were in here being a chicken!"

"What does one wear under this?" I asked, holding up the robe. "I'm thinking long underwear."

Brynne grinned. "Why would one wear anything?"

My eyes flared in alarm. "Oh, no. No, I've got to have something on under this."

Brynne tucked her hands under her arms. "Bawk, bawk, bawk," she chirped.

"It'll be freezing," I pointed out.

"You won't feel it," she promised.

"You don't really mean naked under this?"

Brynne made obnoxious clucking sounds and left. I heard one final bawk! as she went down the hall.

I gritted my teeth.

At dinner I felt stupid and self-conscious in my robe, despite the fact that everyone there was wearing one. They were in all colors: River's was silvery gray, like her hair; Anne's was a deep cerulean blue. Daisuke's was a dark charcoal. Charles's was emerald green. Brynne's of course was red, and she raised her eyebrows meaningfully at me as she took a long sip of her champagne. I scowled at her.

Glancing around, I saw I was the only one in white. As well as the only one with a fine wool scarf wrapped closely around her neck. I saw River glance at my scarf, but she didn't say anything. She knew I wouldn't go without it.

"Pa.s.s the chickpeas, please," said Jess, on my right. His voice had been shredded by his various excesses, and I didn't know if it would ever recover. His robe was black. I wondered about the symbolism.

"All of these dishes are traditional, meaningful New Year's foods," said Solis. "If you eat a bit of everything here, your new year will be lucky, prosperous, healthy, blessed, and full of good fortune!"

I was too busy feeling like a Halloween ghost wrapped in a sheet to focus on what he was saying, but other people laughed and clinked gla.s.ses. I saw my champagne and grabbed it. Champagne is meant to be sipped, but I hadn't had any alcohol in almost two months, and I drained that sucker.

Asher grinned and refilled my gla.s.s. "Now, sip it," he admonished. "Make it last."

I took a ladylike sip and set my gla.s.s down, pretty sure it was eighteenth-century Venetian handblown crystal. It was gorgeous, imperfect, and as delicate as a b.u.t.terfly's wing.

Someone brushed against me as he stepped over the bench to sit down.

I knew without looking up that it was Reyn. My face froze as I caught a glimpse of his robe, a deep amber color. Quickly I took some sauteed greens from the main bowl and glopped them onto my plate.

"You're late," said River, but she smiled at him.

"Sorry," he said shortly. I swear, that man could charm the skin off a snake!

"Well, now that we're all here, let's talk resolutions!" Asher rubbed his hands together. "I will, of course, resolve the usual."

I was about to ask what his usual was, but Anne said, "To make the perfect chevre?"

"Yes! This will be the year!" Asher practically glowed, and everyone laughed. I'd walked past the wheels of curing goat's milk cheeses in the root cellar but hadn't thought much about them except, Hoo, boy, glad I don't have to mess with them.

"Next?" River looked at all of us.

Daisuke spoke up. I knew him the least well of all the students. I knew he was one of the more advanced students and often studied one-on-one with River. He was pleasant but shy. "I, too, resolve the usual," he said in a soft voice. "To achieve enlightenment, free myself of all want, and become one with the G.o.d and G.o.ddess."

Judging from the understanding smiles and nods he got, he was actually serious. He was trying to achieve enlightenment. I was such a loser.

And so we went around the table. Some resolutions were small or funny, like to eat less sugar or pat the farm cats more, and some were larger, like to be more patient or more kind. River resolved to be more understanding and accepting, which IMHO was like water trying to be more wet. I didn't see how she could possibly be more of those things.

I was racking my brain trying to come up with something that wasn't insulting, like resolving to match my socks more often, but not too ridiculous and ambitious, like to be a genuinely good person someday. My turn got closer and closer, and I started to feel panicky, wondering if I could abstain but knowing that I would be the only one lame enough to need to skip, and here was one more thing that I sucked at, and why was I trying when I barely had any excuse for even living- "Nastasya?" River's brown eyes were-yes: understanding and accepting.

I gulped down some champagne to buy another few seconds-I was such a waste-and then said the first thing that popped into my mind. "I resolve to... trust more." I had no idea where that had come from. Out of thin air.

All eyes were on me, and I was self-conscious. River looked a tiny bit surprised, her head on one side as she gazed at me. Surprised and thoughtful.

"That's an excellent resolution," Asher said in the silence.

"Yes," said Anne. "Lovely. Good for you."

Now I felt even more self-conscious. That resolution had appeared out of freaking nowhere and yet... I uncomfortably recognized that I meant it. I trusted n.o.body, not even myself. Not my decisions, my emotions, my plans, my work ethic, my sincerity, my looks-nothing. The one thing about me that seemed rock solid, that I could completely and utterly count on no matter what, was my ability to screw things up. That was as inevitable as the proverbial sun coming up tomorrow.

"And now Reyn," said River.

Come on, someone please refill my champagne gla.s.s, I thought. I could feel Reyn's tension, next to me, the warmth of his leg next to mine.

The whole table waited expectantly. I wondered what Reyn had said last year.

"I resolve... to try to be happy," he said, sounding awkward.

Silence. Everyone was staring at him, and I knew why: He wasn't exactly the poster boy for mirth and good cheer. Even now a sidelong glance told me he was almost scowling down at the table, his hands curled into fists on either side of his plate.

"Perfect, Reyn," said River gently. "Thank you."

Reyn uncurled one hand and picked up his fork, beginning to work steadily through the food on his plate. I was sure it tasted like sawdust to him.

So I was the most untrusting person in the world, and he was the unhappiest person in the world.

We were quite a pair.

CHAPTER 6.

I was ready to just go to bed by nine thirty and skip the whole New Year's circle thing, but again I knew I would be the only one lame enough to cut out, and my pride wouldn't let me. Finally it was eleven thirty-time to get my circle on.

I met Rachel and Charles going out the back door and joined them, glad I wouldn't have to walk through the woods alone. Another circle. Would I barf, as usual? See horrible visions, as usual? Would I feel that glorious starburst of light and power within me that made magick seem worthwhile and even necessary, at least till I started heaving? The darkness, thick and cold, pressed in all around me. I retucked the scarf around my neck, hoping I wouldn't regret my decision to skip my down coat.

"I wonder if this year's circle will be as good as last year's," Rachel said. Her voice was calm and even, and it occurred to me that I couldn't remember her raising it or sounding sarcastic or teasing. It was just always calm and even.

"How was last year's good?" I asked.

Rachel looked at me solemnly. "We made s'mores."

I grinned, and Charles chuckled. The barest smile crossed Rachel's face, and then we were at the clearing, and Solis had already started a fire.

"Welcome," River said as we kicked off our shoes. "Welcome."

The twelve of us stood around the fire, watching as the mesmerizing flames licked the dried wood, crept softly along its edges like a cat, then suddenly devoured it. It was, as I had predicted, freezing out here. I stretched my hands toward the warmth, but I was almost shaking with cold, as well as forcibly reminded of my horrible Incy vision. Great.

"You won't feel it after a while," Anne said, repeating what Brynne had promised.

I nodded, thinking that my bare feet were undoubtedly already turning blue. I would probably lose a couple of toes to frostbite. All I needed was for my nose to start running and then this picture would be complete.

"And here we are," River said, smiling at all of us. "The end of another year. The birth of the next year of our lives. Tomorrow is a new day, a new chapter, a new start." I thought she looked at me in particular, but the leaping fire was bending the air all around it, and it was hard to tell.

"This circle will be mostly celebratory," River went on. "With each of us meditating on the theme of what a new year means to us personally. Then, at the height of our power, we'll each release something that we no longer have need of. In past years, I've released fear or the need to control things or my intense craving for dark chocolate."

Smiles.

"But of course each of you has something within you that you no longer need, something that is holding you back. Some of us already know what we plan to release, but don't worry if you don't have something in mind yet. At the right time, it will come to you. Now, are we all ready?"

No. We should disband and go have some hot tea.

I did not get that particular New Year's wish. Instead we held out our hands, thumbs facing left so that they aligned perfectly when we clasped hands with our neighbors. I was between Rachel and Charles. River was across from me, and His Lordship was next to her, looking amazing in the deep amber robe that he was probably wearing nothing underneath.

Rachel glanced at me. "Did you say something? Or stub your toe?"

"No." Must suppress stupid whimpers.

River began her song, her personal invitation to magick to come out and play. No, play wasn't the right word-not with the appalling destructive power that I'd seen too many times. An invitation... to a conversation. That was more how it was.

We walked clockwise around the fire, and after the second revolution I realized I could feel my feet again, feel the cold ground and scattered leaves. With another revolution I was no longer cold and was starting to get the weird kindling sensation in my chest that signaled magick building in me, around me. I began to sing my song.

I'd asked Solis if I needed to be taught a more formal or traditional song to call magick to me, and he'd said no, it couldn't be taught. It just came from within you, no matter what culture you were from or what language you used. In the past I'd simply opened my mouth and sounds came out, sounds that were ancient words. I figured I'd heard them when I was small, from my parents. The words far predated them; knowing now what I did about the great houses, I a.s.sumed they went back to the earliest days of magick and immortals, whenever that was.

At any rate, when I opened my mouth, my song appeared and drew magick to me, thrillingly, seductively, frighteningly. Our circle was moving faster now, and mine wasn't the only flushed face. The fire danced in the middle, its flames seeming to become sharper, more jagged as our own dance continued.

Rachel's hand was warm in mine; Charles's felt strong and surprisingly firm. I looked from face to face, seeing the flickering light reflected off of skin and eyes. I saved Reyn for last, drawing out the moment when I would finally let my eyes rest on him. And there he was, between River and Daisuke. He was a good head taller than either of them. The fire cast shadows on his angled cheekbones, those bewitching, almond-shaped golden eyes. He suddenly looked at me before I could glance away, locking his gaze on me in a way that s.n.a.t.c.hed the breath from my throat. His robe, like everyone's, pressed against his skin as we revolved, outlining the hard planes of his chest. His scar was under that robe, as mine was under my scarf. Our matching scars. Not identical but a matched set, the two sides of my mother's amulet.

My song twined in the air, growing stronger and richer. It wove itself into all the others, so that together we created a strong, thick tree trunk of twisted roots that seemed to sink deeply into the ground. It was so... entrancing, so beautiful, this beckoning of magick. I'd forgotten. I guess I'd never really known, not like this. Tiny things, baby spells, yes. But not this full-fledged courtship between me and magick, the promises we were making to each other.... Like a lover, I feared its power and its ability to hurt me. But like a lover, it also promised such incredible joy, such a blossoming of power inside. It was revealing itself to me-and so revealing me to myself.

Whoa, listen to me! Next I'll be writing a self-help book! Joy through Witchcraft!

I forced myself to concentrate again on what was happening around me and not the Wondrous Miracle of Self-Realization within. River was smiling widely as she sang. Her hair, loose around her shoulders, flowed like liquid silver. She looked beautiful and happy and strong. I think I've looked like that at some point in my life, but it hasn't been recent.

But I did feel sort of happy right now. I did feel strong. I was full of magick, bursting at the seams with it, and was probably grinning idiotically. I felt physically perfect, not too hot or too cold, but full of lightness and joy. My feet flew over the ground; my hair whipped around my face. I felt included and like I sort of belonged here, with these people.

"Now!" River said, and we all threw our hands in the air as if we were giving the universe a gift. Maybe we were. Who the h.e.l.l knows?