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“Life is so complicated.”

You had to take risks, follow some paths and abandon others.

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She remembered Wicca telling her about people who followed certain paths only to prove that they weren’t the right ones, but that wasn’t as bad as choosing a path and then spending the rest of your life wondering if you’d made the right choice. No one could make a choice without feeling afraid.

That was the law of life. That was the Dark Night, and no one could escape the Dark Night, even if they never made a decision, even if they lacked the courage to change anything, because that in itself was a decision, a change, except without the benefit of the treasures hidden in the Dark Night.

Lorens might be right. In the end, they would laugh at their initial fears, just as she had laughed at the snakes and scorpions she had imagined were there in the forest. In her despair, she had forgotten that Ireland’s patron saint, St. Patrick, had long ago driven out all the snakes.

“I’m so glad you exist, Lorens,” she said softly, afraid that he might hear.

She went back to bed and soon fell asleep. Before she did, though, she remembered another story about her father. It was Sunday, and they and all the family were having lunch at her grandmother’s house. She must have been about fourteen, and she was complaining about not being able to do a homework assign-ment, because every time she started, it went wrong.

“Perhaps the times when it goes wrong are teaching you something,” said her father. But Brida was sure that she’d taken the wrong path and that there was no way to put things right.

Her father took her by the hand and led her into the living

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room, where her grandmother used to watch television. There was a large, antique grandfather clock, which had stopped years before because it could no longer be repaired.

“Nothing in the world is ever completely wrong, my dear,”

said her father, looking at the clock. “Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.”

She walked for some time in the wooded mountains before she found the Magus. He was sitting on a rock, near the top of the mountain, contemplating the valley and the mountains to the west. It was a really beautiful view, and Brida recalled that spirits preferred such places.

“Is God only the God of beauty?” she asked as she approached.

“If so, what about the ugly people and places of the world?”

The Magus did not reply. Brida felt embarrassed.

“You probably don’t remember me. I was here two months ago. I spent the whole night alone in the forest. I promised myself that I would only come back when I had discovered my path. I’ve met a woman called Wicca.”

The Magus started but realized with relief that the girl hadn’t noticed. Then he smiled to himself at the irony of fate.

“Wicca told me that I’m a witch,” the girl went on.

“Don’t you trust her?”

This was the first question the Magus had asked since she

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arrived, and Brida was pleased to know that he was actually listening to what she was saying. Up until then, she hadn’t been sure.

“Yes, I trust her,” she said. “And I trust in the Tradition of the Moon. But I know, too, that the Tradition of the Sun helped me by forcing me to understand about the Dark Night. That’s why I came back.”

“Then sit down and enjoy the sunset,” said the Magus.

“I’m not staying alone in the forest again,” she replied. “The last time I was here—”

The Magus interrupted her:

“Don’t say that. God is in the word.”

Wicca had said much the same thing.

“What did I say wrong?”

“If you say it was the ‘last’ time, it might well turn out to be the last. What you meant was ‘the most recent time I was here’.”

Brida was worried. She would have to take great care with her words from now on. She decided to sit quietly and do as the Magus said and watch the sunset.

Doing so made her nervous. It would not be dark for nearly an hour, and she had a lot to talk about and many things to say and ask. Whenever she sat still, just looking at something, she got the feeling that she was wasting precious time when she should be doing things or meeting people. She could be spending her time so much better, because there was still so much to learn. And yet, as the sun sank lower on the horizon, and the clouds filled up with rays of gold and pink, Brida had the feeling that what she was

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