“What are they doing?” I asked.

“They’re weaving the mists of Niflheim around Brock,” Liz answered.

I felt the chill of the Norns’ mist on my arms. I shivered, wishing I had brought a sweater. “Is that to keep him from … um … decaying?”

“Yes, but what’s equally important, they are keeping his past, present and future from unraveling.”

“No need to be secretive about it,” the large woman said. “We might as well start the circle by introducing ourselves to the newcomer.” She pronounced newcomer with a note of disdain. “I’ll start. Born Wanda Moser, but I was reborn Moondance, devotee of Diana the Moon Goddess and Hecatia of the Crossroads. I have been a practicing Wiccan for thirty years and a member of this spell circle for half that. And I want to go on record as objecting to the inclusion of an untrained witch at this critical juncture. There’s no telling how her energy will disrupt our chi.”

“Your objection has been duly noted, Moondance,” Ann Chase tartly replied. Then, turning to me, “Professor McFay knows me, as do you all. I’ve run Children’s House since its founding and been a practicing witch for the last forty years. I started when my daughter was in diapers, much like Tara here.” She smiled at the young woman in khakis who introduced herself as Tara Cohen-Miller, “Full-time mom and beginning witch.”

She went on, “I always knew there were witches in our family but I was too busy working to pursue it. Then when our son was born I quit my job and my husband Chas and I moved up here and I figured it was a good time to explore my Wiccan tendencies. Callie joining our circle means I’m not the newbie anymore, so I owe her thanks.”

Tara gave me a shy smile that I gratefully returned. The rest of the group took turns introducing themselves. The lean, hawk-faced man was Hank Lester and he said he had been “a roadie, a rowdy and a ramblin’ man” until drifting over here from Woodstock sometime in the seventies and discovering his “wizard side.” The hipster in Ray-Bans was Leon Botwin, recently graduated from Bennington and working on a novel about witchcraft. His day job was barista at Fair Grounds, the town’s coffee place. Joan Ryan recited her full academic credentials and an explanation of how she’d become interested in magic while reading about the alchemists in a history of science class.

“Joan is in charge of our potions,” Liz said proudly. “It’s helpful to have a chemistry person in the circle. As you see, we’re a diverse group, half witches, half otherworlders.”

Moondance shifted in her chair and muttered something under her breath that sounded like “half too many.”

“May I ask a few questions?” I asked.

Moondance muttered something else under her breath about time, but Ann and Liz both said “Of course” so I went ahead.

“First of all I want to thank you all for including me in your circle. I feel responsible for what happened to Brock and I want to do whatever I can to help him.”