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confronted with naked flesh, but I’d been hoping for ornate robes and headdresses to spice up my subsequent accounts of my adventure (preferably interrupted by frequent gasps of admiration for my derring-do).
    Gilda gestured at a stump. “Sit there.”
    â€œWhat’s going to happen?” I asked her.
    â€œHow should I know? You’ll have to ask the Arch Druid. She’s made it clear she’s in charge.”
    I went around the perimeter of the clearing and approached Malthea and Fern. In that I was not well versed in orthodox Druidic greetings, I opted for a commonplace, “Good morning.”
    Malthea gave me a forced smile. “I’m surprised to see you.”
    â€œWhy should you be?” snapped Fern, her sharp chin quivering with annoyance. “You invited her, even though we have a covenant to ban skeptics. That was probably what pushed Nicholas over the brink. He’s been fussing and fuming for the better part of a month, but he was not intractable. You must bear the responsibility for this, Malthea.” Her eyes filled with tears, fogging up the lenses of her bifocals. “To think after all these years…”
    â€œNow, now,” Malthea said, patting Fern’s shoulder. “We must not give up hope that Nicholas can be persuaded to change his mind. I may have erred, but Gilda and Morning Rose share the responsibility. Roy is not completely innocent, either. He refused to tell me why Nicholas was so angry earlier in the week. That well may have had something to do with the current calamity.”
    It seemed I had stumbled into something more multifarious than a sacred grove. “What’s wrong?” I asked, as much to remind them of my presence as to meddle in the muddle.
    Fern took a tissue out of her coat pocket and wiped her eyes. “Forgive us, Claire. You’re here in anticipation of our celebration to embrace the primacy of the Earth Mother and honor the Celtic deities. The ‘calamity,’ as Malthea calls it, has nothing to do with you.”
    I glanced at Malthea. “If it would be politic of me to leave, please say so. I won’t be offended.”
    â€œThere’s no point in that now,” she said with a shrug. Raising her voice, she said, “Roy, did you see Nicholas this morning? The sun will be up soon, and I don’t want to begin without him.”
    Roy rose to his feet and came across the clearing to join us, walking with the same indolent slouch that was epidemic in the halls of Farberville High School. “I came directly here. There was a light on in the kitchen, so maybe he’s having a last cup of coffee or something.”
    â€œOr he’s not coming,” added Morning Rose. “After what happened last night, he may have decided to boycott the ritual.”
    The Arch Druid hesitated, then threw back her shoulders and said with great regality, “Nicholas would never do that, no matter how upset he was. The cyclical celebrations are very meaningful to him. This is not to say he might not take petty pleasure in arriving at the last minute in order to alarm us.”
    Gilda glided up. “Perhaps someone ought to go ask him if he’s coming. My shift at the hospital starts at eight, and it’ll take me half an hour to get there on my bicycle.” She looked at Morning Rose. “Did you put some kind of curse on him?”
    â€œOf course not,” Morning Rose said, ignoring Malthea’s sudden intake of breath. “Sullivan has forbidden curses because of the children. Besides that, I don’t know any specifically suited for this situation. Do you?”
    Sometime between leaving my car and arriving at the Sacred Grove of Keltria, I’d lost my mind, I thought as I edged out of the circle of decidedly peculiar people. What’s more, they were in the midst of a conflict among themselves that had unpleasant undertones. I’d hoped to come away with a diverting