Up close, it was larger than she had first thought, at least fifty feet in diameter and as well-tended as the rest of the property. The paths were white gravel, while larger rectangular stones, perhaps five or six inches in height, set the “walls.” The entrance was marked by two gargoyles carved out of white marble. They stood about four feet high.

It was a charming landscape fancy, but she couldn’t sense any magic, or why Sarah would be interested in what she thought after she walked it. Shrugging, Molly stepped between the gargoyles and onto the path.

After the first few steps, she paused. Hadn’t that first turn curved right instead of left? Confused, she looked over the patterned stones and paths. They wound in spirals around the center, twisting and turning back on themselves like snakes.

Her left hand tingled while hot gold sunlight poured down on her head. Then she started forward again. She had to watch where she stepped to keep from tripping over the larger border stones. The pattern of the labyrinth was hypnotic.

Going left, always going left. Against the sunward path. Widdershins.

Going left felt good, felt correct. Whenever the path twisted to the right, she resisted for a moment, and somehow it changed to take her left. As the circles narrowed and she approached the center, the world around her aligned into a patterned whole. The sun and the moon danced together while the ocean played a rhythmic song.

Sunward was clockwise. The moon was her mistress, and she followed it. The ocean joined in, its music swirling with the tide. She was walking in a vortex. Her Power rose in response to spin around her, a vortex within a vortex, and the scene expanded. The stone walls grew to towering heights while the path shone ivory-bright, as wide as a highway.

She had so much magic her body couldn’t contain it. It poured out of her eyes and streamed down her arms. For once she didn’t try to dampen or contain it. Letting it flow felt so good, she almost sank to her knees.

She had used her left hand to throw Power at Austin and his car. Remembering, her palm tingled again. She shook out her fingers to release the tension, and magic like argent fire poured from her palm.

She lifted her hand and swirled it in the air. The magic responded by curling around her wrist. She shook it out again, and it unfurled with a snap like a whip.

This is mine, she thought. This beautiful, deadly thing is my Power.

Widdershins is my positive, my correct path. Everything aligns when I walk my correct path.

As she neared the circle, her magic grew higher, more intense. Her vortex of energy overrode the vortex of the labyrinth. Her magic swallowed the stones and gravel until they rose in a column around her, spinning in her vortex, spinning, spinning, spinning.