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hurry out of the kitchen. “I’ll take the counter for a while. And don’t look so sad, little sister. You’ve no one to answer to now but yourself.”
    Oddly soothed, Nell stayed where she was. She could hear the low ripple of Mia’s voice as she spoke to the customers. The store music was flutes now andsomething fluid. She could close her eyes and imagine herself here, just here, the next day. The next year. Comfortable and comforted. Productive and happy.
    There was no reason to be sad or afraid, no cause to be concerned about the sheriff. He’d have no purpose in paying attention to her, looking into her background. And if he did, what would he find? She’d been careful. She’d been thorough.
    No, she was no longer running away. She’d run to. And she was staying.
    She finished off her water, started out of the kitchen just as Mia turned around. The clock in the square began to bong the noon hour, in slow, ponderous tones.
    The floor beneath her feet seemed to tremble, and the light went brilliant and bright. Music swelled inside her head, like a thousand harp strings plucked in unison. The wind—she could have sworn she felt a hot wind flow over her face and lift her hair. She smelled candle wax and fresh earth.
    The world shuddered and spun, then righted itself in a blink of time, as if it had never moved. She shook her head to clear it and found herself staring into Mia’s deep gray eyes.
    â€œWhat was that? An earthquake?” Even as she said it, Nell saw that no one else in the store looked concerned. People milled, sat, chatted, sipped. “I thought . . . I felt . . .”
    â€œYes, I know.” Though Mia’s voice was quiet, there was an edge to it Nell hadn’t heard before. “Well, that explains it.”
    â€œExplains what?” Shaken, Nell gripped Mia’s wrist. And felt something like power rocket up her arm.
    â€œWe’ll talk about it. Later. Now the noon ferry’sin.” And Ripley was back, she thought. They, the three, were all on-island now. “We’ll be busy. Serve your soup, Nell,” she said gently, and walked away.
    .
    Mia wasn’t often taken by surprise, and she didn’t care for it. The strength of what she’d felt and experienced along with Nell had been more intense, more intimate, than she’d expected. And that annoyed her. She should have been prepared. She of all people knew, believed, and understood what twist fate had taken so many years before. And what twist it could take now.
    Still, believing in fate didn’t mean a woman simply stood there and let it run her down. Actions could and would be taken. But she had to think, to sort things out.
    What in the goddess’s name was she supposed to do to make things right when she would be bound to a stubborn twit of a woman who consistently denied her power and a scared rabbit on the run who didn’t know she had any?
    She closed herself in her office, paced. She rarely turned to magic here. It was her place of business, and she deliberately kept it separate and earthbound. But there were exceptions, she told herself, to every rule.
    So thinking, she took her crystal globe from the shelf, set it on her desk. It amused her to see it there, along with her two-line phone and computer. Still, magic respected progress, even if progress didn’t always respect magic.
    Laying her hands on either side of the globe, she cleared her mind.
    â€œShow me what I have to see. This island holds the sisters three, and we will shape our destiny. Visions in glass come clear to me. As I will, so mote it be.”
    The globe shimmered and swirled. And cleared. In its depths, like figures in water, she saw herself, Nell, and Ripley. A circle formed in the shadows of the woods, and a fire burning. The trees were aflame as well, but with color struck by autumn. Light poured out from a full moon like water shimmering.
    A new shadow