I blinked, reading it again and again at the speed of light Maeve Riordan. Mother's name: Maeve Riordan.

Mechanically I read down to the bottom of my torn page, expecting to see my mom's real name, Mary Grace Rowlands, somewhere. Anywhere.

Shocked, I looked up at my mother. She seemed to have aged ten years in the last half hour. My dad, behind her, was tight-lipped and silent.

I held up the paper, my brain misfiring. "What does this mean?" I asked stupidly.

My parents didn't answer, and I stared at them. My fears came crashing down on me in hard waves. Suddenly I couldn't bear to be with them. I had to get away. Scrambling to my feet I rushed from the room, colliding with Mary K., almost knocking her down. The torn scrap of paper fluttered from my fingers as I pushed through the kitchen door and grabbed the keys to my car. I raced outside as if the devil were chasing me.

CHAPTER 3

Find Me

May 14, 1977

Going to school is more a bother these days than anything else. It's spring, everything's blooming. I'm out gathering luibh—plants-for my spells, and then I have to get to school and learn English. What for? I live in Ireland. Anyway, I'm fifteen now, old enough to quit. Tonight's a full moon, so I'll do a scrying spell to see the future. I hope it will tell me whether I should stay in school or no. Scrying is hard to control, though.

There's something else I want to scry for: Angus. Is he my muirn beatha dan? On Beltane he pulled me behind the straw man and kissed me and said he loves me. I thought I liked David O'Hearn. But he's not one of us—not a blood witch—and Angus is. For each of us there's only one other they should be with: their muirn beatha dan. For Ma, it was Da. Who is mine? Angus says it's him. If it's him, I have no choice, do I?