Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Five: Out of the Dark - Chapter 1

Looking for more?

About the Author

Immortal

Immortal Works LLC

1505 Glenrose Drive

Salt Lake City, Utah 84104

Tel: (385) 202-0116

© 2021 Jay Barnson

http://rampantgames.com/blog

Cover Art by Ashley Literski

http://strangedevotion.wixsite.com/strangedesigns

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For more information email contact@immortal-works.com or visit http://www.immortal-works.com/contact/

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN 978-1-953491-17-6 (Paperback)

ASIN B08ZPNVZ6N (Kindle Edition)

For Jacob and Melissa. Thank you for believing.

Sean and Debbie sat together on a fallen log outside Annie’s shack, out of earshot of the milling crowds that had invaded the area once inhabited only by a witch and some monsters. Both Sean and Debbie wore ill-fitting uniform shirts and rough trousers, consolations from the Wardens for ruining their previous outfits with blood, dirt, and bullet holes. Sean imagined that he looked like a homeless person—which he technically was. Somehow the shabby secondhand clothing made Debbie look more radiant.

Sean’s day had consisted of answering thousands of questions, explaining to Warden officers in incredible detail everything he knew about Thadeus, called Hothlurian on this side of the Crossroads. They grilled him repeatedly about exactly what had happened to Taliel. They were skeptical, but for Debbie’s sake, he left them no room for doubt.

The two days of frantic activity left Sean and Debbie with few opportunities to talk. He’d been awaiting this chance, coming up with a million things he wanted to say and to ask the girl that had literally haunted him for almost a year. He’d spent months chasing a mysterious phantom, obsessed with a story. He’d spent weeks fighting his feelings, reaching for some kind of resolution. Just as he came to terms with it, and with what he expected to be his own death, they both found themselves in another world, and they were both breathing. They had a great deal to talk about.

Now that he had his chance, he opened his mouth, and he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. The ghost was gone. The girl was, in some ways, a stranger. Her face was slightly older than he remembered, maybe by two years. Her eyes, however, were those of the girl he’d seen across the room at the orientation party almost a year ago. Eyes that were at once fearful and hopeful. The eyes above the hastily drawn cat-whiskers weeks later, on…

“Halloween!” Debbie said, breaking the silence with the force of a pistol shot in her words.

Sean flinched. Had she read his mind? “Sorry? What about it?”

“I know for a fact that I did not meet you at that stupid party that Halloween night. You weren’t even born then.” She waggled her index finger at him as if accusing him of something. “But I have a strong impression that I met you on Halloween night.”

“We did, last year. It wasn’t the first time we met, though.” It was when they had kissed. He was too much of a gentleman—or a coward—to bring that up now, though. “Are you remembering things?”

She shook her head and made a whistling noise. “Only bits and pieces. They ain’t the problem. It’s what I can’t forget.” She glanced down at the weeds. “Growing up around witches, you’d think I’d be accustomed to weird, but this… This is all beyond the pale.”

Sean nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”

She offered him a slight smile and shook her head. “You already did. It’s just that in the back of my mind, I keep thinking I need to write a letter to my best friend, Annie, telling her about the crazy things that are happening to me. We wrote coded messages to each other, sometimes, and I keep trying to work out what I could say in a few secret words to explain things. But Annie ain’t…she isn’t there anymore. Not my Annie. I’ve been helping a dear lady pack her belongings all day who clearly loves me. She used to be my Annie, but that was a long time ago for her. Decades, for her. Last week, for me.”

Even though it had been two days, Sean still couldn’t get over the physical reality of her presence. The ghost—no, the idea of the ghost—had haunted him for most of a year. He felt guilty for not fully considering what it felt like from her perspective.

Debbie filled in the silence. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t go home. I can’t stay here with people who still think I’m some war criminal. I barely know the woman who was my best friend my whole life, and I keep feeling like I should know you. But I have no idea who you are, beyond the fact that you saved my life, and you seem to know me.” She sighed. “So, that’s how my last couple of days have gone. How about you?”

Sean snorted. “I have been interrogated and cross-examined to the point that I’m not even sure what really happened anymore.” It sounded like a weak complaint now.

She shrugged one shoulder. “They ain’t come to lock me up yet, so I guess they believe you. For what it’s worth, I believe you, too. I don’t know why, but I know I can trust you. I mean, beyond the obvious, with you getting shot for me. It’s like I remember you, but I can’t remember anything about you. I’m sorry. Am I getting any of my crazy on you?”

Offering her a smile, he said, “It’s okay. You are entitled, and this whole thing is pretty insane. You are doing better than I would be in your situation.”

“I know you expect me to remember more about you. But right now, I’m just freaking out, and I ain’t really sure of who I am. It’s all so jumbled. I hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings.”

His feelings were getting more crushed by the moment, but he didn’t want to admit it. He had no right to be upset. He sighed and shook his head. “Debbie, why should I be upset? You are alive. It’s impossible, but here you are. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.” He honestly wanted to help her, at least.

“Okay. So, here’s an image I have in my head when I think about you. I think of some other guy.”

Sean cleared his throat. “Okay. That hurts my feelings a little.”

She smiled wide, but her eyes were sympathetic. “Not like that! I have an image of some scary drunk guy coming for me, and you putting yourself between him and me. And then I think he takes a picture. Maybe it’s just a flash from a dream I had last night. My brain processing you protecting me from the soldiers or something.”

Sean shook his head. “No, that really happened. That drunk guy was my roommate, Blake. We were at a Halloween party last year. I have the picture.”

“Really? Can I see it? Maybe it would help me remember something else!”

Sean grimaced. “Well, um, yeah. The next time I can find a power outlet to charge my phone.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Uh… I understand the words, but not the sentence. Did you say you need to plug your phone into a power outlet before you can show me the picture?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“The future is weird. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure thing.”

“Just give me some time, okay?”

Sean scratched at his chin. He hadn’t shaved in the three days he’d been here, and his chin itched. “Time for what?” After he said it, he regretted it. It sounded accusatory even to his own ears, and he hadn’t meant it that way.

“Sorry. It’s stupid. Never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

Sean nodded in spite of the warning bells going off in his head. How many jokes had he heard about a woman saying, “I’m fine?” Maybe it was sincere back in the 1970s, but he doubted it. She was clearly upset, but he didn’t know if pushing the issue would make her more or less angry. Women were so complicated! “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m the one being stupid. I know you are having a really hard time adjusting, and I don’t know how to help you.”

She released an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know either. I kind of got the feeling from you that we had some kind of, I don’t know…some kind of relationship?”

“You were a ghost, Debbie.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s what people keep telling me. I get it. But Annie’s granddaughter—the brunette, J…some J name…”

“Jessabelle. The red-haired one is Jenny.”

“Right. Jessabelle told me you came all the way from Morgantown to Blood Creek looking for me. Even after you heard I was dead.”

Sean nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“Why?”

Debbie—the real, living Debbie—was a different person now. His brain told him he didn’t want her to feel any kind of pressure or obligation based on things she couldn’t remember, and maybe never experienced. His heart told him something different. She couldn’t remember the night they kissed. He couldn’t forget. He wanted her to be exactly like she had been that night. He wanted that all to have been real. He wished they both weren’t different people now than they’d been a year ago.

“We met twice. I thought you were really amazing. I liked you. A lot. I thought you might feel the same way.” He felt his face growing warm. He cleared his throat, looking down the hill to avoid eye contact. “When I learned that the girl I met didn’t really exist, I guess I had trouble believing it. I came to Maple Bend looking for answers, to learn who you were. Then things went even crazier, and you showed up, and you saved my life more than once.”

“I don’t remember any of this. I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Her voice was gentle. “Give me some time, Sean. Who knows? Maybe, I’ll remember a little more.”

“Sure. Take your time. It sounds like we might have a while.”

* * *

Two hours later, Lisbet Crane and another Warden officer came to speak with Sean. Lisbet introduced the officer to Sean. “This is Lieutenant Nathaniel Borden. He’s undertaking an expedition in the morning to visit the tombs of several Wardens who were instrumental in defeating Hothlurian centuries ago, and destroying the portals to the D…to your world. We wanted to ask you to accompany them. Based on your reports…”

“My interrogations?”

“…We believe you have superior skills in spiritualism, and can perhaps glean some knowledge from spirits that have been lost to the Wardens for generations.”

“Why me? Don’t you have your own—what did you call them? Spiritualists?”

“None who can do what you did. Traditionally, the Wardens haven’t had much need for spiritualists.”

That sounded familiar. Neither Thadeus nor the Wardens wanted someone around who could discover where the bodies were literally buried. Not until the ghosts were their final option. Thadeus needed a powerful phantom, Avery, to slip through the weakness in the sealed portal. Sean had nearly destroyed Avery by unraveling threads of soul fragments that Avery had harvested to strengthen and amuse himself. Had that set any of the tortured fragments of Avery’s victim’s free? He hoped so, but he had no proof, and he’d been unable to destroy the harvester.

“You need them now,” Sean said. “Avery got away from me. They may try it again.”

“We are keenly aware of this. General Beaumont is taking your report directly to Chief Warden Ulster, and we will be assigning every battle-witch with more than a glimmer of Spirit Sight to guard Blood Creek. If anyone else could do what you do and see what you see, we wouldn’t ask this of you. It is ironic that we must rely upon a stranger to help us understand our own past.”

As interested as he was in learning the history of this strange parallel world, as far as he was concerned, this wasn’t the time. Debbie was back, and alive. Against all odds, Sean had survived. They’d defeated Taliel and stopped her from healing Thadeus. It felt like a victory, and Sean wanted time to savor it. “Not that I hold a grudge, but you Wardens tried to kill us the other day. Give me some time to think about it. Talk to me in a couple of weeks after everyone has had a chance to recover.” By everyone, of course, he meant Debbie.

“We don’t have the luxury of time, Mr. Williams.”

“Why? The Man in the White Suit is still crippled. He won’t be able to come through the Crossroads. Jenny and Annie still have it sealed, and you’ll soon have a bunch of Wardens to guard it.”

Lisbet bristled. She kept her voice even, but there was a force behind her words that unnerved Sean. “We had the same attitude recently. We nearly lost everything because of it. Let me tell you about how much time we have, and how crippled he is. There are two portals that we know of, and one more that Jessabelle has reported. That means three places that we are going to have to guard, splitting our forces between them. There may be others we do not yet know about. It does not matter if Hothlurian finds another way to overcome his curse. He has already proven he has resources to send to our world, and he has laid waste to entire countries that displeased him in the past.”

She glanced toward Annie’s shack with obvious deliberation. “Now, perhaps you do not have anyone you care about on either side of the portals, and if not, I will appeal to your humanity. Hothlurian will not delay his revenge in order to ‘recover’. He will not show mercy, or wait any longer than necessary. Unfortunately, we no longer have anyone with the kinds of skills necessary to subdue him again. We need every moment afforded to us to prepare, and we’d hoped you might assist. Once more, I ask you: Will you help us?”

Sean’s shoulders slumped. “Crap. What do I need to bring?”

The lieutenant spoke. He didn’t seem much older than Sean. “We’ll make whatever arrangements you need. We already have troops and supplies to accompany you. Your safety will be paramount.”

“Okay. Tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sean sighed. “At least this time around I’ll have time to say goodbye.”

The messenger wore a Warden uniform. In spite of the mild autumn afternoon, a break from the recent heat, his face was covered in sweat as he stood in the mountain encampment. He had the confused, deer-in-the-headlights look Jenny had grown accustomed to seeing on the faces of many Wardens just arriving on the field. They had been dropped from a cushy, largely ceremonial position onto the front lines of saving the world from all-out Armageddon. She hadn’t looked in the mirror lately to see if she still wore the same expression. She wondered if she had started looking younger than sixteen already with the weird effects on aging in this world, or if all she had seen and done had made her look older.

They’d left Blood Creek weeks ago, joining with Wardens under Lisbet Crane’s command. Jessabelle was key to Crane’s mission, and so Annie, Jenny, and Debbie joined without hesitation. Jack and Delcina—still on “vacation” from her palace while conflict over the attempted coup was resolved—tagged along. If Annie’s cottage in Blood Creek had been the middle of nowhere, the Warden encampment here was on the far edge of nowhere.

“Does this mean anything to you, Commander Crane?” the Warden asked of the woman in the similar steel-gray uniform standing beside Jenny. Lisbet Crane definitely looked older. More of her braided hair was the color of her uniform than when they’d first met nearly two months ago.

Lisbet looked up from the message. “It does. How did we come across this, Corporal?”

“The Sanguine Royal Guard found it in the palace, ma’am. The Queen Regent had a device for sending and receiving messages. A compass needle would move every day to point to a different character of the alphabet. She had a servant recording the position every day in her absence. The needle hadn’t moved in a few days, so General Beaumont believes that’s all there is to the message. He said to bring it to you, and that you or your associates might understand what this means.”

Lisbet stared at the page. “I believe I do. When did you leave Sanguine?”

“Three days ago this morning.”

“Thank you. Tell Beaumont he has my gratitude.”

“Do you know who sent the message?”

“Hothlurian. We believe that device was how he and his daughter maintained communication.”

The younger Warden shifted uncomfortably, squinting in the sunlight shining over Crane’s shoulder, and asked, “Begging your pardon, ma’am. Why didn’t Hothlurian simply send her directions to find the portal?”

“Are you familiar with the expression, ‘finding a needle in a haystack’?” The messenger nodded. “Especially without a precise, common frame of reference between the Darklands and here, it would be like finding a needle in an entire field full of haystacks. One can be twenty feet from a portal and not know it. Which is how you find us here.” She spread her arms, motioning at the valley that surrounded them.

“Yes, ma’am. Speaking of which, the general wanted a status report on your search for the other portal.”

“Tell him we are digging through the haystack straw by straw.”

“Yes, ma’am. Could you direct me to Princess Delcina of Sanguine? I have a message for her as well.”

A little too quickly, Lisbet reached out and said, “I shall see that she gets it immediately, Corporal.”

The young man stood confused for a moment, but handed her a coarse envelope sealed with wax. They saluted each other, and he made his way back down the trail.

Once the messenger was out of earshot, Jenny turned to Lisbet. “Did you just lie to your superior officer?”

Lisbet shook her head. “Have we found Jessabelle’s portal yet? No. We’ve merely excavated the outer wall of what we suspect to be the enclosing barrier.” She checked the position of the sun, and said, “Although, all things being equal, I’m glad he didn’t come a few hours from now. I suspect the general will not share our assessment of the best way to deal with this portal and will want to waste no time sealing it again, reinforcing the enclosure, and stationing a permanent garrison of soldiers and witches here, like we have at Hobbfield and Fort Zellan.”

“Was the message from the Man in the White Suit? What did he say to Taliel?”

“It wasn’t a message to his daughter.” She held up her right hand and wiggled her fingers as she counted. “Given that Beaumont waited a few days before sending it here, and it took the corporal at least three days to get here from Sanguine, Hothlurian must have started sending this message over six weeks ago, shortly after his daughter’s death. It was a message to all of us, but more specifically to your grandmother.”

“Grandma Annie?”

Lisbet nodded, and handed Jenny the document. “Read it.”

The message had little by way of punctuation but the message was clear. “ANNIE I AM STILL COMING BUT HATTIE WILL PAY.”

Jenny’s hands shook. “Is he serious? Could he be bluffing?”

“Possibly, but I doubt it. If he doesn’t know about Jessabelle’s portal, then he would not benefit from lying. Please take it to your grandmother. I believe she’s up at the excavation. So is the princess. Take both messages.”

“Right.” Jenny didn’t salute after she took the papers. She wasn’t a Warden, didn’t intend to become a Warden in spite of Lisbet’s best recruiting efforts, and hated this war.

On the worst day of Jenny’s life, Hattie had been the total stranger who rode across four states in a beat-up pickup truck to Jenny’s rescue. Hattie had hidden her own anguish at losing her sister to be a pillar for a girl who had just lost her mother. Even though Jenny had been Around the Bend for longer than she’d known Hattie, she always imagined Hattie back in her double-wide trailer home, ready to whip up a dinner on a moment’s notice the day that they all went back together.

She could not convince herself Hattie would be okay no matter what. Life had beaten that delusion out of her. They could only hope that Jessabelle’s portal might give them a secret way back to West Virginia.

* * *

Jenny had quietly questioned Lisbet Crane’s judgment in setting up camp out of sight of the excavation area when they arrived two days ago. Now it made slightly more sense, although it bothered Jenny that the Wardens might not be unified in their efforts against the Man in the White Suit.

The quarter-mile walk was not much of a strain after weeks of hiking through wilderness searching for the thing, stopping to rest and sit in as Jessabelle, Min, and Lisbet argued over geography. The overgrown stone structure was obvious once they’d found it, which had spared them a painstaking hunt across the mountainside for the exact position of an invisible spot in space.

Half of the structure was buried under centuries of dirt and overgrowth. The Wardens had cut something like a half-pipe diagonally down toward the base of the wall, to remove the stones with less chance of weakening the roof support. Jenny arrived to find two Wardens inspecting the braces while the other workers sat outside the excavation, resting.

Grandma Annie distributed tin cups with water to people, making use of another witch’s skill that had become unnecessary in the modern world—purifying water from a nearby stream. The soldiers had taken to calling her “Grandma Annie,” too. At first, Jenny had felt twinges of jealousy when they started calling her by the name her granddaughters used. However, Grandma Annie threw herself into the role, and most of the time seemed genuinely happy to be the grand-maternal figure for the platoon.

Debbie accompanied Grandma Annie, carrying a pitcher of water to refill the cups. She had cut her hair short and taken to wearing very simple clothing to hide her resemblance to Taliel. The soldiers no longer seemed to regard her with suspicion. It had taken Jenny a little longer. Every time she saw Debbie, she relived betraying everyone under the power of Taliel’s magic and re-experienced the horrible deaths that Taliel had casually dispensed in their final battle. Over the weeks, that had faded, and a friendship had grown.

Annie waved as Jenny approached. “You’re just in time. We broke through to the inner chamber, and Jessabelle slipped through to make sure it is the right place.”

“Grandma Annie, the Wardens found a note from the Man in the White Suit back in the capital. He used a machine to send messages to his daughter.”

“That would explain a great deal,” Annie said.

“He sent this one for you, about six weeks ago. Or he started sending it to you six weeks ago.”

Annie handed the tray of cups to Debbie, took the note, and read it. Her face whitened, and her fingers shook slightly as she folded it up. But then she shrugged and half-smiled. “Of course he’d say that. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Jenny looked at her grandmother in confusion. Of all the reactions she’d imagined from her grandmother on her way to the excavation site, this was not one. “Are you sure you are okay, Grandma?”

Grandma Annie’s smile was a little too broad. “Don’t worry about Hattie. She’s smart. As soon as she got an idea which way the wind was blowing, I’m sure she took off without anyone noticing her. She’s probably not even in the state anymore.”

Jenny wasn’t about to launch an interrogation. Annie knew Hattie far better than Jenny did, after all. There was another note to deliver, anyway. “Okay. Um, where’s Delcina?”

Annie pointed to a group standing closest to the breach several feet up the slope. As usual, Jack was at Delcina’s side. The two maintained somewhat stridently that their supposed engagement did not exist, nor that either sought “courtship” at this time. If Jack maintained it, Jenny knew better than to question it. It was at least what he believed—probably what they both believed. It didn’t change the fact that they were practically inseparable.

The Royal Guardsman currently assigned to Delcina faced Jenny as she drew close. Jenny waved the envelope at him. He spoke a word to Delcina, and both she and Jack turned. Delcina accepted the envelope with a smile and a nod, and broke the seal.

“Hey, Jenny!” Jack said. “Jessabelle’s exploring the hole right now. We should have a secret path back to West Virginia soon, if we want.”

“Great,” Jenny responded automatically. Not that it wasn’t fantastic news, the culmination of this entire expedition. She glanced over her shoulder at Grandma Annie again. She hadn’t resumed the distribution of water, yet, and was staring off at the horizon. “When Jessabelle gets back, the three of us need to talk.”

“Oh? Bad news?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

Delcina read her message. “Bachan says they foiled a third assassination attempt against him,” Delcina said as she read the message. “He cautions against me returning to Sanguine at the present time because things are still too volatile.”

“Some of them nobles who sided with Taliel still aren’t ready to admit defeat yet, huh?” Jack said.

“Since their surrender would result in tribunals and stripping them of land and title as the most lenient outcome after the crimes they committed under guise of warfare, yes. I understand their hesitancy.”

Jack turned back to the excavation. “Jessabelle’s been in there a long time,” he commented. “She should have been back a while ago.”

Down the slope, Grandma Annie had handed off her water duties to someone else. She sat down, looking weary and much older. Debbie sat down beside her, and put her arm around her childhood friend. Clearly, Annie’s worry over her daughter was growing.

Jenny looked back at the excavation. Assuming Jessabelle came back with good news, it was their one ace in the hole, their chance to do something other than wait for the Man in the White Suit to make his move or batter down the other Crossroads.

However, now she wondered about the message he’d sent to Grandma Annie. What was the purpose? Just to rattle her, now that he knew she was still alive? What would that accomplish?

Jenny didn’t know much about the man—the devil—who murdered her mother. Until now, she didn’t want to know anything more about him. But now, she wished she understood his motivations more. He was brutal and efficient, but also held grudges. Perhaps this was simply a boast, a way to remotely hurt Annabelle Rose.

Her grandmother now waved away concern, and even offered a weak laugh as one of the Wardens checked on her. It was a convincing gesture for anyone other than Jenny or Debbie. As the Warden walked away, Annie’s forced smile dropped. She was hurting.

If that was all Thadeus had intended, it worked. Until they found Hattie safe, and maybe even brought her back through the new portal, Grandma Annie would suffer.

Jenny had no idea how to find Hattie, as Sean claimed Maple Bend was essentially occupied by the Coven. It would be a lot of work for a tiny victory, but it would be worth it.

But was that the Man in the White Suit’s only reason for sending the message?

Sean felt a little guilty. Jack was the one with aspirations to explore this new world, but in the last few weeks Sean had seen far more in a whirlwind tour than Jack had seen in four months. Sean had also ridden in three steam trains, learned to ride a horse, received excellent training in combat archery from his companions, and even traveled up and down this world’s equivalent of the Ohio river in a steamboat right out of Mark Twain’s stories. Now he rode horseback through a vision of West Virginia as it must have been two hundred years earlier. He missed his friends, especially Debbie, but he grudgingly admitted the last several weeks had been a pretty amazing adventure.

Unfortunately, the quest had been as fruitless as its goals had been dubious. Sean’s abilities as a “spiritualist,” as they referred to it, were beyond those of any of the Wardens. It just hadn’t been a skill in high demand. That hardly surprised him. He could see ghosts more clearly than others, and his experiences over the summer had enhanced this ability.

Now, Sean saw ghosts frequently. They just weren’t very interesting, or very interested in him.

Then there was Leendert. As far as Sean could tell, the old Dutch priest haunted him. Something had happened when Sean had stolen Avery’s “kill,” and now he could still see the freaky, angry Dutchman at the edges of his consciousness when he slept. Twice, while visiting the tombs, he almost heard Leendert talking to him, but if he concentrated, the voice went away.

As they came around a bend in the road, silver spires of what could have been a great cathedral appeared above treetops. “Is this it?” Sean asked.

Borden nodded. “Yes, that should be the Citadel. I’ve never been there.”

Sean shook his head at the sight. “So we traveled for weeks and weeks just to circle back to Morgantown. Sorry, I mean Taravald.” That was the name of the city Around the Bend. ”Why didn’t we come here first? Or send your people first to find out if this guy’s spirit is around?”

“The ‘guy’ is named Daniel Taft,” Borden explained. “First off, Taft wasn’t one of the Wardens who fought Hothlurian, so he’s the least likely to have useful information for us. He was a historian—an academic, not a warrior. Secondly, we did send people to Taft’s tomb, but we don’t have anyone with significant Spirit Sight left. The Citadel’s staff has been cut to a minimal number, now that the real Lilah has been destroyed. The Citadel’s entire purpose was to act as her prison, and that is no longer necessary.”

As they drew closer, more of the fortress became visible, as did the wide river and the stone bridge they had to cross to get there. The Citadel was a truly impressive sight. Great stone walls, whitewashed and gleaming in the afternoon sun, surrounded what could have been the palace of a fairy-tale princess. Smaller buildings encircled it, each of which would have been stately and impressive if not dwarfed by the fortress itself. There was an eerie familiarity to it that bothered Sean until the moment they set foot on the bridge.

“Hey, that’s where the University is!” Sean exclaimed.

“Sorry?” Borden said, looking sideways at Sean.

“West Virginia University! The citadel looks like it is exactly in the same place. In fact, that palace kind of looks like the Eberly Arts & Sciences building. It’s a lot bigger, but…” A surprising wave of nostalgia hit Sean. His focus his entire time at school had been to graduate as soon as possible, and he had rarely taken time out to enjoy campus life. Now, suddenly, he found himself thinking back fondly on his alma mater, which he’d vacated only a few months ago. A lifetime ago.

Shaking his head, Borden said, “I don’t even want to make a conjecture. Coincidence.”

“It’s too close to be coincidence.” For the thousandth time on this adventure, Sean wished his phone was charged and he could take pictures of this place. The Coven would have a lot of fun proving that the photos were all a hoax.

“Hopefully the cook will still be there,” one of the Wardens in their party said. “A hot meal’d be a nice change of pace from the rations we’ve eaten the last week.”

The gatehouse stood only a few yards away from the east end of the bridge. Three young Wardens looked down gape-mouthed from thin windows. “Who goes there?”

“Lieutenant Nathaniel Borden, of the Lornden station, and my team. Also, Sean Williams.”

The young man grinned broadly and said, “Right! We’ve been expecting you all week, sir. Come on in.” Two more soldiers strained at the gatehouse winches, and the portcullis slowly rose.

They stepped through the gatehouse, and the Wardens closed the gate behind them. Borden squinted with one eye, his way of expressing confusion and annoyance, as another Warden approached them. The new Warden was an officer bearing the same rank insignia as Borden. “Welcome to the Citadel,” he said. “I’m Lieutenant Hollingbroke.”

Borden motioned behind them to the gatehouse, where the three younger wardens gravitated closer to eavesdrop. “Do you normally keep the portcullis closed?”

Hollingbroke shrugged. “These days, yes. We don’t have enough guards manning the walls anymore, so by keeping the portcullis closed, we don’t have to keep a full force at the gatehouse at all times. We’re, ah, a little shorthanded lately.”

Borden frowned. “Shorthanded? Why is that?”

“Our job has changed. We aren’t guarding a prisoner anymore, and everyone who can be spared has been reassigned to Fort Zellan.”

“Who is in charge?”

“That would be me, until Lieutenant Commander Velling returns. I was told you wanted to visit Taft’s Tomb, is that right?”

“Perhaps after it gets dark?” Borden said. He glanced at Sean, who simply shrugged. “Right now, we’d love something to eat, if you can arrange it.”

“Certainly. It’s not much, but what we lack in quality we can make up for in quantity. We still have stores to feed a force ten times our size. While we eat, you can regale us with tales of the war against Lilah!”

“We appreciate the food, but I’m afraid we have little to tell about the war. We all came in at the tail end, and didn’t see any fighting,” Borden said. Sean was grateful for the polite lie. Borden knew about Debbie, of course, but seemed to understand the value of discretion. She faced more than enough suspicion already. It was enough for people to know that the offspring of their great bogeyman had been vanquished.

* * *

While the cook prepared dinner, Sean was taken to one of many empty rooms to “rest and freshen up.” A young soldier appeared with a wash basin, soap, and several grooming instruments to assist him. Sean washed his face and upper body, and then sat still on a wooden stool as the soldier attacked his hair. When he was done, he held up a mirror, and Sean nodded in satisfaction at his image. While he wouldn’t be gracing the cover of a magazine any time soon, he at least looked—and felt—presentable for the first time in weeks. The soldier presented him with a uniform approximately his size, including boots, but without any insignia.

Once dressed, the soldier escorted Sean to the dining hall, where the rest of his team were already seated. Hollingbroke stood and greeted Sean again, introducing him to two more lieutenants. Sean forgot their names almost immediately.

Hollingbroke looked him over, nodding approvingly. “Mr. Williams, I confess you looked more like a spiritualist or mystic earlier, but now you look like you’d make a great Warden. Have you considered joining us?”

Sean forced a smile. “Borden has suggested it many times, but no.” His first encounter with the Wardens had been them shooting him and trying to kill Debbie. While he’d forgiven them for that deadly misunderstanding, this fruitless expedition had been enough to convince him that the military life was not for him.

Before dinner, Hollingbroke gave the group a brief tour of the Citadel. The focus was on the dungeon beneath the main floor, designed to hold only one occupant: the immortal daughter of a devil. The floor was surrounded by lanterns, and even though Lilah was no longer a threat, five men stood guard at all times, following strict procedure as they watched over a great metal-reinforced stone door covered in strange symbols. At odd intervals, little recesses pock-marked the walls. They looked like miniature shelves. Sean pointed and asked, “What are those for?”

“More defenses, like the magical runes. Those sockets housed explosive devices. If Lilah or a force that came to free her got this far, these devices would not leave much left.”

“Why did you remove them now? Safety reasons?”

Hollingbroke grinned. “Nothing like that. They’ve been moved to Fort Zellan, in case our enemy sends troops through again. This place was a deathtrap to an attacking force, designed to stop an immortal being. We’re trying to make Fort Zellan the same thing.”

“This looks impressive. James Bond would have had a tough time breaking in here.”

“Who is James Bond?”

“A fictional character. A super-spy.”

Hollingbroke chuckled nervously. “Please don’t mention spies around here, even in jest. That puts everyone on edge. Back in the early days of the Citadel, we discovered a number of them among the Wardens. Thus our strict protocols, so that even a conspiracy among us would have little chance of rescue.” He pointed down the hall. “Once a month we open the door and check on her. For decades, nothing changed except for how much dust covered her body. She didn’t breathe, her hair didn’t grow, but she didn’t rot, either. She was just there, like a flesh statue. Then, seven weeks ago, we opened the door, and the stink was the first thing we noticed. Her body was decaying. Two and a half weeks ago, we did our next inspection, and she looks like she’s been dead at least a year.”

“Can I see her?”

“No! Not until our next inspection.”

“Why not? She’s dead. You saw it yourself. You even moved the bombs.”

Hollingbroke squared his shoulders. “Protocols, Mr. Williams. They change slowly. Yes, you are probably right. But until I receive explicit orders otherwise, we are continuing our watch as we always have. There is always the chance this is all some elaborate ruse or escape attempt. If so, it will not succeed because of our lack of vigilance.”

Sean sighed. “I guess that’s commendable. Useless, but commendable. The military way, I guess.”

“It cost a lot of blood to capture her in the first place. I won’t be the one to betray that.”

“How did you capture her, anyway?”

“Ah, do you want the short version, or the long version of the story?”

Chuckling, Sean said, “Let’s start with the short version. We’re supposed to be out here learning how to defeat Hothlurian, so maybe we’ll get some ideas from how you captured his daughter.”

Hollingbroke raised his eyebrow. “What a coincidence. We’re very interested in learning how she was killed.”

As they made their way back up the stairs and into the dining area, Hollingbroke gave the brief version of the story, which primarily involved a small army of Wardens fighting a battle of attrition until Lilah had exhausted her magic. “The little people of the Dogwood Tribe took an interest in our struggles early on. Hothlurian had been their enemy, too, and they had no desire to see his daughter rule in his stead. They manufactured manacles which would cut her off from her source of magic when placed on her. It was rumored they were forged from the substance of the portals themselves.”

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Little people? Like elves or gnomes or something like that?”

Hollingbroke shrugged. “They are legendary magical beings. That’s all I know. I thought they might not exist anymore, but I have been told that one of them tried to assist in Lilah’s escape.”

"Tried to assist? Whose side are they on?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was a renegade, or maybe they have turned against us. Back then, however, they were our allies. The Wardens fought and died until they captured her. She remained immortal and invulnerable, but at least she could not escape or take action against us. She wears those manacles still.”

“So, you just dumped her in a room with handcuffs and left her there for, what, a hundred years?”

“Yes, something like that. Don’t tell me you are sympathetic! She is very much her father’s daughter.”

Sean shook his head. “No, I get it. I guess I just understand why she might have been crazy and pissed off.”

They came to a chamber filled with delicious smells and a long oak table. The western-facing windows were partly shuttered against the glare of the setting sun. Dinner proved to be slightly better than Hollingbroke had promised them, especially after the dry bread, shoe-leather tough meat, and raw vegetables that made up too many meals on the trail. Roasted chicken, potatoes, peas, and fresh bread that didn’t need to be soaked in order to be edible made a banquet as far as Sean was concerned.

“So is it true about the Queen?” Hollingbroke asked as they were nearly finished. “Was the spirit of Lilah really inside Queen Taliel of Sanguine?”

Sean spoke quickly. “It was, but not anymore. The girl who everyone knew as Taliel is free.”

“Oh? Where is she? Could Lilah return?”

“No. Not possible. The girl is now trying to go back to the simple life she had before Lilah took over.”

“How are you so certain, Mr. Williams?”

Sean stared across the table into Hollingbroke’s eyes. “I was there when it happened. The spirit of Lilah was forced out of the body, screaming as she died without a body to tether her in the world. I doubt anything remains of her. And if there is, it shall never again return to the body it once possessed.” Sean shoved the last remains of a baked potato in his mouth to avoid saying, “So leave Debbie the hell alone!”

“That’s remarkable. And difficult to imagine,” Hollingbroke said. “For my entire life, this Citadel has been Lilah’s prison. Not quite a tomb, although I suppose it is now. I hope the Wardens will find some other use for the place.”

Borden cleared his throat. “The fighting was only part of Hothlurian’s plan to return. The Wardens need to be more vigilant than ever.”

“I thought he was unable to return.”

“Perhaps. But he has had a thousand years to plan, and if nothing else, he will send more invading troops like the ones he sent to Fort Zellan.”

Hollingbroke smacked the table lightly with his hand. “Then he shall find the Wardens ready. If he tries to send soldiers though Fort Zellan again—hah! We have turned it into a death-trap. In fact, I am reassigned there once Velling gets back.”

Borden chuckled. “You sound excited to go there.”

Hollingbroke laughed. “I know. Three months ago, who would have imagined anyone looking forward to being stationed at Zellan?”

The Wardens continued to speak amiably of their time in the service. Sean focused on the three peas remaining on his plate, pretending to make an effort to capture them on his fork for one last bite. It prevented him from rolling his eyes in frustration. For weeks they’d searched out the tombs of dead heroes to try and learn more details about how they defeated the Man in the White Suit. They’d discovered plenty of ghosts, but only one from that era. The spirit was incapable of conversation, and simply paced back and forth, repeating, “We must attack by surprise! Take his legs out from under him!”

If this historian, Taft, didn’t leave behind a ghost with any useful information, the entire trip would have been a waste. He could have spent the two months with his friends. With Debbie…

Sean pushed his plate forward. “With that in mind, where can we find Taft’s tomb? Is it here inside this castle?”

Hollingbroke’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No. Nobody could be buried within this structure except Lilah. We have a cemetery on the northeast side with tombs for luminaries. The Citadel isn’t even a hundred years old yet, so we don’t have many people buried there. Ironically, the old cemetery groundskeeper is the only one who has been buried there in the last four years. Are you ready?”

Sean glanced out the window. The sky was growing dark purple, so there was no reason to delay further. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

Hollingbroke took them southeast to a well-kept field. Three ornate tombs stood in the darkness in the bounding corners of the cemetery, along with a smattering of tombstones. Hollingbroke pointed to the furthest tomb nearest the outer wall. “That is where Taft is buried. Do you need access to the tomb or the remains themselves, or anything?”

Borden waved his hand dismissively on Sean’s behalf. “No, the best we can provide him is silence and some amount of privacy while he does his thing. Perhaps we should move some distance away?”

While the others walked away, Sean let himself relax. At least he’d gotten better at using his “Spirit Sight” on this otherwise useless mission. He looked over the cemetery, and blinked. This was where the student building was located back on Earth. As he tried to picture it, he found himself struck with a completely mundane vision that hit him with the emotional force of a sledgehammer. It was another evening a year earlier, near this spot where he’d met Debbie. They’d danced, they’d talked, and he’d found himself feeling emotions he’d never experienced before. And then again, nearly two months later, when he’d found her here again.

He had no idea she was a spirit from another time. She was just a girl, and he’d started falling in love with her.

His hands dropped, and his vision grew blurry with salty water. He didn’t care. He just felt the wave of emotion and rode it. Once it passed, he expected to kick himself. Repeatedly. He’d been stupid. He’d been pursuing the mysterious ghost for so many months that he’d forgotten what put him on her trail in the first place. It was so obvious, and when everything had changed, he’d thought he’d be noble by letting her rediscover everything herself. Why? To play fair?

An older man’s voice interrupted his revelation. “Are you well, young man?”

Sean turned. The man looked to be in his seventies, wearing a straw hat and simple clothes. However, he carried himself like many of the Wardens. He was a proud man, most likely a retired officer. As Sean expected, the man’s eyes held a violet gleam.

“I’m fine,” he said, wiping his cheeks quickly. “Thank you, sir. Who are you?”

“Frederick Chapman, Warden Commander. Er, retired,” the dead man said. “These days, I take care of the Citadel grounds.”

Sean sniffed, trying to regain his bearing. It didn’t seem to impress Commander Chapman. “I’m looking for Daniel Taft. Is he here?”

“You are a few centuries too late, young man. That’s his tomb.” The old man pointed at the far tomb. “We brought his remains here some time ago from where they were buried, not far from the old library.”

“Wait, the old library? What old library?”

“Oh, it’s nothing but a ruin now. Our fault, really. Taft built it himself in his later years, about four miles south of here. After his death, the Wardens ignored it until our own library burned. By that time, Taft’s library had fallen prey to the elements, and there was nothing left. It was a terrible loss, but we moved Taft’s remains here and built this tomb to remember him. I hope that it also serves as a reminder to others that we must treasure and preserve the knowledge we possess, or we shall have to learn it all again the hard way.” He looked up, gazing along the fortress. “This place is more than just a jail, you know. Be proud to serve here. I was.”

Sean nodded. “Thank you, Commander.”

The old man smiled, and his image faded somewhat as he returned to patrolling the grounds in his eternal vigil. Sean extended his Sight further, but was quite certain the cemetery held no more ghosts. Taking a deep breath and making certain he was presentable again, he returned to the Wardens. Borden looked at him with a hopeful expression. “So, did you learn anything?”

Sean nodded. “I did. Just not what I expected.”

“Was Taft here?”

“No. Thank you, Mario, but our Princess is in another castle.”

Borden squinted with one eye. “What Princess?”

Sean laughed. It felt good to laugh for a change. “It’s an old expression where I come from. Lieutenant Hollingbroke, do you know how to find Taft’s old library? I believe it should be about four miles south of here. I have a suspicion that if Taft’s ghost still haunts anywhere, it’ll be there.”

Jessabelle’s entire mission was to find the portal, verify it led to Josie’s basement, and return to report her findings to Lisbet. As the cat, she could sense the magic at the end of her whiskers, and by the bristling of her fur when she was inches away from the Crossroads. She focused her attention on following the feeling to its destination, and strode confidently forward. The world around her flickered through an empty nothing, and then she padded onto the basement floor of the Ankrums’ house, next to a shelf of canned peaches. Technically, while she’d now completed her mission and should go back to tell the others, she still needed to make sure the coast was clear. On top of that, she needed to make sure her friends were welcome to come marching out of Josie’s basement, because that would be rude and dangerous otherwise.

Josie’s last communication with Leon had been a direct warning, bypassing their secret message drop. Since Josie was the only one who knew where Leon and Jessabelle were hidden, that suggested the Coven had found her. Once Leon had been captured and Jessabelle had disappeared, there was no reason for the Coven to pursue Josie or her husband any further. In theory, at least.

Jessabelle bounded up the stairs and to the front door. The whir of an air conditioner and the distant sound of a television program somewhere in the house were the only sounds. The house felt the same as it had the last time Jessabelle had been here. It was probably safe, but Jessabelle wasn’t ready to change shape into the readily identifiable girl just yet.

Jessabelle took in her breath and made the most natural sound in the world, what would have been a roar as the predator or a human howl as the girl. Instead, it was a meow. She repeated it three times, at fifteen second intervals, until thudding footsteps rewarded her efforts.

Burke came limping into the front hall, holding a cane. The last time she’d seen him, he had been sick and in shock from accidentally falling through the Crossroads. Now, white-haired, overweight yet much healthier looking, he looked a little like Santa Claus, minus the red outfit. Well, Santa with a cane that he now wielded like a sword.

“Scat! What are you doing in our house, cat? Get out!” He jabbed the cane at her. He clearly didn’t intend to hurt her, so she calmly sidestepped the attacks, giving him a questioning “Meow?” It was lost on him, as he reached over her, opened the front door, and swept the cane at her in an attempt to shoo her out.

“Meow,” she responded, dodging the cane. Was Burke trying to give her a coded message? Perhaps he really meant, “The coast isn’t clear! Go hide before the Coven gets you!” But she didn’t see so much as a wink from his eye, or a desperate raise of his eyebrow.

“Josie!” Burke yelled. “Some stray cat got in the house.”

“Shoo it out,” Josie’s voice called from another room.

“I’m trying. It ain’t cooperating. I could use a hand here.”

Moments later, Josie stepped into the room. Much darker-skinned than her husband, she wore a T-shirt and shorts made from cut-off jeans. Jessabelle locked eyes with the woman as she drew near, and she ignored Burke’s latest sweep with the cane. He missed her, of course.

Josie held her hand up. “Shut the door, Burke.”

“What? Why?”

“Do it.”

Burke sighed, and closed the front door. He didn’t bother swinging his cane at Jessabelle this time.

Josie fixed Jessabelle in her stare. “Are you Jessabelle?” she asked. “Just nod your head.”

Jessabelle nodded.

“Did you come from the basement?”

Jessabelle nodded.

Burke’s bushy gray eyebrows shot up. “The girl? She’s like…” Josie nodded, and shushed him. Unlike his wife, he hadn’t seen Jessabelle change form or been involved in her initial rescue from the Coven. Jessabelle assumed Josie had told him, but did he not know?

“If you want to know if it’s safe, I reckon it’s about as safe as anywhere else for you. The Coven figured out that I’d helped Leon and watched me for a bit. I haven’t caught a whiff of them since I sent the last warning to you two. That’s no guarantee, but I reckon you ought to be safe here.”

Jessabelle changed back into the girl. Burke whistled in amazement, and said, “It’s you. I never did get to thank you properly for saving me two months ago. Anything you need, just say the word.”

“Two months? It feels like forever ago.” Jessabelle said.

“Almost two and a half, I s’pose,” Josie said. “We weren’t sure if you were dead or captured. I’ve been worried about you and Leon, but after seeing the news I figured maybe they hadn’t caught you yet.”

“News? What news? I’ve been…uh, I have been somewhere else.”

“The place on the other side of the wall in the basement?” Burke asked.

Jessabelle nodded. “What news?”

Josie said, “You might want to sit down.”

“I’m fine. News?”

“The news has been saying that you and a few other people from your hometown area are part of some kind of domestic terrorist ring. They mentioned you by name and put a picture of you on TV. It’s all they’ve been talking about locally for three weeks. They’ve got the FBI involved, and they are talking about bringing in the National Guard. The news keeps doing interviews. A lot of people are worried it will turn into another Waco or Ruby Ridge or Kent State or something.”

Jessabelle had no idea what those things were, but they didn’t sound good at all. “They sent the National Guard against Maple Bend? Against us? How?”

“It’s all speculation as far as we know. Nothing official. Some folks have said they saw military-looking trucks on the road from Elkins to Branton. I just reckon the Man in the White Suit has a bunch of influential people in his pocket, and he is calling in his favors for whatever he is up to. Burke and I are keeping our heads down. The Coven noticed us once, and I’d rather not get on their radar again.”

Jessabelle pointed in the direction of the basement stairs. “About that. We’ve got some people on the other side who wanted to come through. We need to stop Thadeus and the Coven.”

“How? Do you have an army back there?”

“Um, kind of. But we ain’t here to fight. We just need a few people to sneak in and out.”

Josie sighed. “That ought to be okay. I ain’t ready to have an entire army tromp on up through my basement. You need to be careful, though, you and anyone else they put pictures of on the news.”

“They got my picture? How?” She considered. “Probably through my mama. Or a class picture. They only got the one up for me as a girl, though, right?”

Josie laughed. “They ain’t about to put the picture of a cat up and call it public enemy number one.”

Eyes widening, Jessabelle asked, “Am I public enemy number one?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

Jessabelle shrugged. “I just wonder what my mama thinks of all this.”

* * *

A half-hour later, after more discussion with Josie, Jessabelle returned to Around the Bend.

Lisbet stood directly in front of Jessabelle as she emerged from the excavation. Others stood behind her, including Annie, Jack, Jenny, Debbie, and Delcina—all outside of the danger zone as Lisbet’s nostrils flared. She maintained complete control so that a casual bystander might not notice the Commander’s level of irritation.

There were no casual bystanders.

“Jessabelle Rose, you were instructed to return immediately once you discovered the portal. What kept you?”

There was nothing to be done but to face it. “Once I was there, I had to make sure that Josie and Burke were okay and the enemy wasn’t around. Naturally, that led to me visiting with them for a bit.” She thought to the military jargon she’d heard her father use when she was little, and added, “I took the initiative.”

Lisbet clenched and unclenched her fists then turned her head slightly toward Grandma Annie. “Annabelle, what is it with your granddaughters?”

Grandma Annie shrugged. “Beats me. Don’t know where they get it from. I was much better behaved when I was their age.”

Debbie coughed dramatically. Grandma Annie rolled her eyes, and mumbled, “I was just pullin’ y’all’s leg.”

Jessabelle related her conversation with the Ankrums. When she was done, Grandma Annie frowned. “Before I left, a terrorism charge would give the government a lot of leeway.”

Jessabelle shrugged. “Josie said kind of the same thing. She thinks Thadeus and the Coven called in some favors. Maybe they just mind-controlled some generals or something?”

“I reckon it would take a bit more than that,” Annie said. “If Hattie was arrested, she’ll be okay. We can deal with that later.” An odd expression of relief crossed her face as she suggested that her daughter might have been arrested.

Lisbet asked, “Does Hothlurian or his Coven know about this portal?”

Jessabelle shook her head. “Josie doesn’t think so. They ain’t bothered her since they captured Leon.”

“We need real intelligence on the enemy. We need to know what Hothlurian and his forces are planning if we are to stop them. We need spies. I would have liked to have recruited your friends, but they are poor candidates if they’d be recognized.”

Jessabelle snorted. “Yeah. I don’t think Burke would make a good spy in the first place. They’ve gone and put my picture in the news and Sean’s too. We’re both wanted by the police now. They think we’re terrorists.”

Annie swore, but Lisbet grew calmer. “We can send our own people there. They would be unknown to Hothlurian and his army.”

It was Jack’s turn to snort. “Y’all would stick out like a sore thumb. Remember how easy it was to peg Jessabelle ‘n me as foreigners? It would go double for y’all.”

“Then we’ll need a guide.” Lisbet turned to her side. “Jenny, I know this may be much to ask, but I think this mission calls for your skills and knowledge as no other.”

Jenny winced. “Um, maybe not. I’m pretty good at staying inconspicuous, but I’ve met Thadeus face-to-face. Evelyn knew who I was, and there’s a good chance other people in the Coven would recognize me. If you need spies, I’m probably not the best choice.”

Jessabelle shrugged. “I can poke around as the cat if I keep my distance, but that ain’t so good for working with others.”

Lisbet rolled her eyes heavenward. “As former Coven members, Min and Leon are clearly out. Did any of you not publicly announce yourselves to Hothlurian before you fled the Darklands?”

Jack cleared his throat. “Um, I don’t really want to go back there, but I’m nobody over there. I left before most of this got started. As far as Thadeus—um, Hothlurian—and the Coven are concerned, I’m just some kid from Maple Bend.”

Unclenching her fists, Lisbet sighed and said, “That is a relief. Very well. I can send you with a squadron of Wardens to assist you. You can help them stay inconspicuous.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot upward. “Um, no way. I can’t even find clothes for a squadron of soldiers. No way I can keep them from standing out. I’ll take maybe one or two.”

Delcina smirked. “We will take one or two.”

“What? No way, Delcina! This is going to be really…”

His voice died as she stared at him. Admittedly, her eyes were very striking, and Jessabelle wondered if she would be able to endure Delcina’s stare without giving in. Jack, however, was clearly powerless. “Were you going to say, ‘dangerous’, Jack?” Her voice wasn’t angry. If anything, it was almost teasing, but nevertheless deadly serious. She held up her left hand, the one missing the finger. “More dangerous than what we’ve already endured this summer?”

Jack wisely took a moment before vocalizing his answer. “You’re the heir to the throne. You’ve got responsibilities here. I wouldn’t go, either, if it didn’t sound like I was the only one who could.”

Delcina smiled, and turned to face the others. “There are four reasons why I can and should go with Jack. Number one, the conflict in our nation has still not been resolved. Bachan believes I am still a target for assassins, and wants me out of harm’s way. As far as I know, it may be safer for me on the other side of the Crossroads than it is in my own land, at least for the time being.

“Number two.” She changed her voice, and stood with a slight slouch, a mirror image of Jack’s pose. In a convincing West Virginia accent, she said, “I already picked up a little bit of the way y’all talk. Maybe it ain’t enough to fool a local, but I reckon it might could be enough to say a word or two without drawin’ much attention to myself.”

Jenny and Annie laughed. Jessabelle nodded emphatically. “That ain’t bad, Delcina. You do a pretty good impression of Jack.”

Delcina nodded her head at Jessabelle, and continued, in her own accent and voice. “Three. Jack once promised to show me certain things in your world. As I know he is highly disposed against lying, perhaps this will give him the opportunity to discharge his promise and maintain his honorable reputation.”

Annie muttered to no one in particular, “She don’t play fair, does she?”

“And finally,” Delcina continued. “Name one other person who is better at keeping Jack from taking unnecessary risks.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Ain’t no way I can stop you even if I wanted to. It’s just that this could be bad.”

Delcina said, “That is one more reason I must go. If Hothlurian has some other means of re-entering the world, Sanguine and her lands will be the first to fall. Just as when we fought the army at Dane’s Point, this is my fight.”

“I have an objection,” Ezekiel called out from somewhere behind everyone else. “My job and my neck are on the line if anything happens to Delcina. I’m under orders. She cannot go anywhere without her bodyguards.”

“One bodyguard,” Delcina stated.

“I’ll come with you, then.”

Lisbet raised two fingers. “I insist on at least two Wardens going with you. They will know what sort of information I’m looking for.”

“That ought to do it,” Jack said.

Jessabelle said, “As far as others, we can talk to Josie. We ain’t more than about thirty seconds from her living room once this hole is opened up.”

Lisbet pointed to the hole in the rock walls. “Very well. Let’s get back to work, everyone. I want this passage opened by nightfall, and I want level one defenses surrounding it by morning. We do not know how much time we have before Hothlurian makes his move, and we’ll need every day, every hour of advanced warning we can get to stop him.”

Jessabelle caught Jenny’s gaze, and guessed they were both thinking the same thing.

How?

“Goat man,” the young Warden said as he examined the tracks in the dirt. Sean struggled to remember his name—Myack? Hollingbroke had sent him to guide their party to the ruins of the old library. “I’m almost positive. We’ve heard of sightings back at the Citadel.”

Sean stifled a snort, but no one else seemed amused. A ripple went through the gathered Wardens, manifesting itself as nervous glances and fingering of weapons. Sean wondered if he should pull out his bow and keep an arrow nocked, but he hadn’t gotten the knack of shooting while on horseback.

“Um… I guess I’m a little confused,” Sean said. “A goat man? How big are they?”

“About the size of a man,” Borden said. “A very big man.”

“But not as big as a giant? Or an ogre?”

The Wardens all looked at him with an expression that could have been pity. “No,” Borden said. Sean couldn’t help but hear a patronizing tone, even if it was unintended. “They are not as big as giants or ogres. However, they are quite dangerous.”

“They won’t generally attack a group of our size,” Myack said. “Not unless they feel their territory is threatened.”

Borden scanned the surrounding wooded hills. While not thickly forested, it was still impossible to see very far. The idea of a part-man, part-goat still amused Sean, but he could easily imagine even a giant hiding among the trees. They’d stayed near the main roads during his travels with the Wardens, and while they were frequently on watch against an attack, they hadn’t encountered anything truly dangerous. It gave him a different impression from his first few hours Around the Bend, where it had seemed the entire land was populated by vicious beasts.

Remembering the unicorn, and noting the Wardens’ reactions, he decided to take the idea of a goat-man seriously.

“How close are we?” asked Borden.

The guide shook his head. “Close, I think. It is supposed to be somewhere around that hill up ahead, but I don’t know exactly where it is. I don’t know if anybody has been there in decades. It’s possible we could pass within a hundred feet of it without seeing it.”

“Then we will have to be twice as vigilant. Once for an enemy, once for the ruins. Sean, is there anything you can detect that will help?”

Sean shook his head. “Um, no, it doesn’t normally work that way.” He’d learned much more about his power since engaging in this venture. He’d encountered a few more ghosts, in far more normal circumstances than what he’d left behind. Once again, they were rare and difficult to see. This was an improvement to a legion of spirits standing in the middle of the town after Leendert’s call. That suited Sean just fine.

They spent the better part of the morning searching for the ruins of Taft’s library. The bright sunlight and warm morning caused him to sweat, but it was the feeling that they were being observed that bugged Sean the most. It was all his imagination, of course. So far as he knew, his Spirit Sight couldn’t sense anything like that. But at times, the feeling was palpable. His horse seemed to sense something was amiss as well, although perhaps she was only picking up on his nervousness.

“I think this is it,” Myack called. He pointed to the side of the hill, at what looked like nothing more than brush and trees. Sean peered into the formation, trying to picture anything vaguely man-made.

“Are you certain?” Borden asked.

The guide pointed to what looked like the trunk of fallen tree, now overgrown with vines. “I believe that was a pillar.”

Borden glanced apologetically over his shoulder at Sean. Sean shrugged and dismounted his mare. He took the bow and quiver with him, just to be on the safe side. He pushed his way through the weeds and brush while the Wardens waited on their horses a short distance away.

Sean relaxed, and felt his Spirit Sight extend in all directions. There was no ghost or spirit that he could perceive, but there was something faint and weak lurking at the edges of his perception. “Daniel Taft, are you there?” Sean asked, his voice amplified by certain aspects of his Sight that he was only beginning to understand.

The response was immediate, seeming as if it were a great distance away. “Yes? Who is it?”

Sean couldn’t see a form, but the voice was enough to work with. “My name is Sean Williams. I’ve come here to talk to you about your research.”

“Why? Have you bothered reading it?” In spite of the dismissive content, the voice seemed closer and clearer.

“We’re having trouble finding your records, sir. I wanted to ask you some questions.”

A murky form coalesced near him, standing on a floor that may have existed hundreds of years ago. While vaguely human-shaped, it lacked any distinctive features. The entire form looked more like a puff of wispy gray smoke with a slightly violet hue than anything physical. Perhaps that was as physical as the ancient spirit could get. “Very well. What do you wish to know, young man?”

“How the Wardens managed to defeat Hothlurian and exile him to the Darklands.”

“That is a fascinating story. It has its origins in the original Dellingstead Rebellion only five years after Hothlurian’s ascension in Urowel, following the Heartsday Edict. As any casual student of history knows, the Dellingstead Rebellion was a dismal failure, crushed by the army only three weeks later, but it did point out the need for…”

Apparently, time had not dimmed the entity’s ability to lecture. Sean cleared his throat. “Um, not to be rude, sir, but the Wardens are in a hurry. What did they use to weaken him so that he couldn’t use his full powers or travel through the Crossroads?”

“Crossroads? Oh, you mean the portals? Crossroads is a very interesting term for them—and perhaps more accurate.”

“Yes. Those. What did they use?”

While the form remained indistinct, it shimmered in a way that Sean interpreted as distrust. “You are not a Warden. Why would you want to know?”

“I’m assisting them. They are just outside, on horseback, if you can see them. They have lost the records, and are concerned about Hothlurian gaining the power to return.”

“That information was kept secret. It was our promise to the Dogwood Tribe.”

“I’ve heard about them. Little people?”

“They are not people. Well, not human, other than a superficial resemblance. They are among the magical folk. Not much is known about them, but they have been known to come to the aid of humans in times of need, or to exact a harsh vengeance when slighted. In this case, they may have seen Hothlurian as a threat to themselves as well as humankind. They assisted the Wardens in stripping the devil of much of his power through a poison that ravaged his body and spirit, and chains that prevented his escape.”

“How could he heal from it? How could someone else heal him?”

“Their warning to us was that he could be healed by one of his own kind. However, Hothlurian was a unique being as far as we could determine. Personally, I think anyone with Hothlurian’s temperament would be loath to aid him, so it is nothing we need fear. More importantly, if one such as Hothlurian made his way here, he would be an equal threat.”

That still didn’t explain exactly how Lilah would have been able to heal her father, but clearly the Man in the White Suit had come up with an answer to the puzzle. Unless he had another family member stashed away somewhere, they had stopped him, at least for a while. Sean didn’t want to probe Taft’s ghost too closely, taxing or alarming it, or it might vanish beyond Sean’s ability to summon it back.

“One last question: How did the Wardens destroy the portals?”

“I am afraid the answer to that question is lost.”

“What? Why? What if there were other portals left open? What if new ones formed?”

“New ones? I do not even think that is possible. However, there were other, lesser-known portals the Wardens were forced to leave open, although they sealed and blocked them off. We could not destroy them all.”

“Why not?”

“They did not teach you this? The great sacrifice? What a shame. Very well. I shall teach what very few outside the Wardens know: We never intended to banish Hothlurian to the Darklands. That was a mistake. He is a creature of the portals. Or the Crossroads, as you say, the world that divides us. There, within the portal, he had no power. According to the Dogwood clan, he did not even have what they called Adon-Ta, or soul, until he stumbled into our world. Our plan was to take him back, and let him once again become one with his world, and never trouble us again. But the wily Hothlurian escaped us in the strange cross-currents between the worlds, and at least some fraction of him managed to escape to the Darklands.”

“Wait, so you are telling me there’s a place inside the portals?”

Taft seemed annoyed at being interrupted. “I suppose that is not common knowledge. However, if you had done your reading ahead of time, you would know this. Fortunately, it is nothing that those rare travelers need to navigate. They cross—or crossed—that infinite distance in but the blink of an eye. Their Adon-Ta didn’t belong there, so they float across the currents like a piece of bark floating along a stream.”

“Whereas Hothlurian would…what? Sink like a stone?”

“No. I suppose we could sustain the analogy by saying he’s part of the stream—water itself, shielded only by a vessel of his own strength. We thought that, weakened and bound, he would return to that place, losing his Adon-Ta, his elements returning to his original form. We do not know how he escaped his fate, but we know he slew his Wardens and made his way to the Darklands. Mercifully, the Darklands are sparsely populated, but that doesn’t mean it is impossible for him to gather an army to send against us. Or, he may somehow heal of his injuries and be able to traverse the gulf between worlds again. We had to destroy the portals, but the only way to do it is from within. The five surviving Wardens possessing enough skill to do so sacrificed themselves to destroy the known gates. If there were other portals, they were sealed and buried by those who would not reveal anything else about them, even to me.”

Sean shook his head. “Surely there must have been some other way? I have it on good authority that a portal has been destroyed from outside. The one who did it survived.” Survived until tortured to death by the Man in the White Suit, at least.

“No! If there was any other way, we would have chosen it! Impossible!” The ghost seemed truly distressed by the suggestion that its heroes might have died needlessly. Fair enough.

The spirit started to fade. Before Sean could attempt to summon it back, a cry went up from the Wardens behind him. He turned in time to see the guide’s horse rear up and collapse on top of its rider. Blood gushed from a massive split in the horse’s neck.

* * *

“Attack!” Borden commanded as he drew his pistol.

Between the horses, a creature moved. Filthy and hairy, but with the shape of a man and the head of a goat, the beast resembled the legendary satyr, but with feet instead of hooves. And instead of harmless pipes, this beast wielded a blood-stained axe of almost comical size as if it weighed no more than a twig. It leaped into the air, swinging the axe down onto one of the other Wardens. He struggled to defend himself, and both he and his horse were sliced through in the axe’s deadly swath.

Sean leaped to his feet, readying an arrow and trying to get a clear shot on the creature. Borden and the remaining two Wardens took control of their horses, charging away in different directions, forcing the goat man to choose a target. Sean unleashed his arrow at the same time as the three Wardens opened fire with their pistols and crossbows, but his hasty shot missed by almost two feet.

The goat man hurled himself after one of the Wardens. The man dropped his crossbow and drew his saber, urging his horse forward. The horse didn’t respond quickly enough, and the goat-man severed one of the horse’s legs. Horse and rider collapsed, and the goat man pounced on them, bringing his axe down again until the terrible screams of the Warden and his horse were silenced.

Sean swore. His failure cost another of his companions his life. In seconds, perhaps, they would all be victims of the creature’s axe. He fired another arrow, striking the monster in the ribs as it raised its axe once more. It made an awful bleating noise and turned, seeking out the source of its pain. Sean nocked and fired another arrow before the remaining Wardens could reload. This time, the arrow struck the creature’s head, but at such an angle that it ricocheted away without leaving a visible mark.

The goat man charged. Sean stood his ground, loosing another arrow directly into the creature’s gut. It stumbled as it ran, but kept charging.

Borden raced after the creature as the other Warden fired. When Borden was directly behind the beast, he fired his pistol squarely into the creature’s back. The bullet staggered the monster, but only for a moment. Sean unleashed one last arrow, realizing that, even stumbling, the goat-man would reach him before he could get another shot. The arrow struck deep in the monster’s chest, and Sean dropped his bow and ran.

The creature gave chase for a few seconds, slowed by its injuries, and then collapsed. Both Wardens were upon it in moments, striking from their mounts with their sabers. Sean’s terror and adrenaline receded in the increasingly-familiar ebb moments after the rush of combat. He moved to check on the fallen Wardens.

Both of his traveling companions were pale and unmoving from their horrifying wounds, as were their horses. Myack moaned from underneath his dead horse. “I think my leg is broken,” he said. “What happened? Did you kill it?”

Sean nodded. “Yes. It’s dead.”

Borden rode up to Sean. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, but I think Eric and Uriah are dead.”

“I know.” His expression was flat, shocked. “Did you find the ghost?”

Sean nodded. “I think we obtained all we can reasonably have gained from it.”

Borden bowed his head. “I hope it was worth it.”

Unlikely, Sean thought bitterly. He whispered, “I hope so, too.”

Since coming to Around the Bend, Jack had often wondered what it would feel like to finally return home. The Ankrums’ living room wasn’t quite what he imagined. Little things caught his attention now, reminders of the world he’d left. The hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the smell and flow of conditioned air, and the sparkle of a dozen LED indicators for various electronics in the house all reminded him that he’d come back to his own world. It now seemed strange that he’d taken them all for granted his whole life.

He could only imagine what Delcina and the others from Around the Bend must be thinking.

“Josie, Burke, this here is Jack Parsons, a friend of mine from back home in Maple Bend,” Jessabelle said as they stood in the Ankrums’ living room. Jack shook hands with couple as Jessabelle continued. “And this is Delcina.”

Delcina imitated Jack’s out-thrust hand. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Burke. Josie.”

As the couple shook her hand, Burke said, “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

Delcina glanced at Jack, a hint of color appearing in her cheeks. “That didn’t take long, did it?” She smiled modestly at Burke. “No. I am from a place called Sanguine, on the other side.”

Burke nodded sagely. “Been there once. I confess, I didn’t care for it much.”

“When this is all over, we should invite you for a visit and make an effort to change your opinion.”

Josie smiled. “You are very kind, Delcina. A vacation sounds nice.” She pointed at the floor. “At least the travel costs would be cheap.”

Delcina flashed the smile that would stop traffic. “Speaking of which, we brought gold with us to compensate you for the inconvenience this must be causing. I am told it has value here as well as in my kingdom.”

Josie chuckled and waved her hand dismissively. “It’s alright. Your battle is our battle.”

Burke cleared his throat and said, “However, we don’t want to offend you by not accepting your gift, right, Josie?”

Delcina laughed, and everyone seemed to relax. Josie said, “The Coven is stirring up trouble, from what I can tell. After Jessabelle left, I started looking up the news reports online. Let’s finish the round of introductions and I’ll show you what I’ve found.”

Jessabelle quickly finished by introducing Zeke and the two Wardens. Josie welcomed them warmly, sent Burke to fetch iced tea, and opened up her laptop computer to show them the video segments. Jack forced his mouth to remain neutral as he watched Delcina and the others out of the corner of his eye. Delcina maintained a polite expression of curiosity, but then he’d already told her about what to expect. Zeke managed to keep his mouth closed, but his eyes widened in clear astonishment. The Wardens, in spite of living in a world of magic and monsters, stood open-mouthed. One of them took a reflexive step back and tilted his head to look around the screen, trying to understand what he was seeing.

The reporter on the screen stood outside “Dyl’s Super Stop” in Branton. It was weird how that triggered a wave of homesickness, however brief, in Jack. One of the few fond memories he had of his father were the times they drove down to Dyl’s, back before Hap opened his little grocery store across from the church. He’d get a soda while his father picked up a six-pack, and then his father would buy Jack the comic book of his choice.

He hadn’t really thought of those memories in a long time, but they now felt important to him. His irritation grew toward this reporter using the old convenience store as a backdrop.

The only vehicle in the parking lot in the background was an olive drab military vehicle that looked like an armored SUV on steroids. Looking confidently at the camera, the brown-haired reporter said, “For weeks, fear has gripped this tiny community of Branton, West Virginia, in the wake of a string of murders, disappearances, and gang-style violence unheard of in this quiet village. The ferocity and secrecy of these attacks have led many experts to believe that these are the actions of one or more extremist groups in the region.

“The presence of local and federal authorities have calmed things down in the last several days, but the body discovered last night has raised the specter of doubt. However, just minutes ago, the police issued a statement that while they are not yet ready to rule out foul play, the preliminary investigation suggests that this was a death due to natural causes. The authorities have so far not released the identity or cause of death of the individual, but they do stress that people should not be unduly concerned. In this afternoon’s statement, the police reiterated that the hunt for suspects continues with all available resources, and that public safety is paramount.”

The reporter motioned to his side, and the camera panned to three people standing beside him. “I have with me several Branton residents, and I thought we’d ask them what they thought of the current situation.”

Jessabelle sputtered. “What? Oh, no way.”

“What?” Jack asked.

The reporter spoke into the microphone. “What is your take on the attacks, and the police presence in Branton?”

The young man had light-brown skin, dark eyes, and a better haircut than Jack had ever enjoyed. He seemed a little older than Jack, somewhere just over twenty. While he wore a white T-shirt and jeans much like Jack would wear, his clothes seemed a little too clean and almost-new. He wore them uncomfortably, as if he’d just barely purchased them off the thrift store rack. Which might very well be legitimate with the young man preparing to go on television, but why wear a T-shirt and not something more formal?

The interviewee leaned over and spoke into the reporter’s microphone. “This has always been a real quiet community, you know? It’s been a rough few weeks, but things is starting to settle down now.”

“You’ve had quite the police presence here for the last two weeks. People have grown concerned. How have the authorities conducted themselves?”

“Oh, except for that truck, we don’t even notice ‘em here most of the time. But it’s nice, too, because we know the terrorists would have to be stupid to try anything. The police, the FBI, they’ve been great, and we’re happy they are here. We’re feeling safer than we have in weeks. I just wish they’d catch the people responsible.”

“Thank you.”

Jessabelle fumed. “That little weasel! He ain’t from Branton, he’s one of the Coven. His name is Gabriel.”

The screen changed to show the newsroom with the reporter’s screen inset in the view. The anchorwoman, a blonde with the faintest hint of West Virginian accent, said, “Hugh, we can’t help but see that vehicle behind you. That looks like a military vehicle, but earlier this week the governor claimed that the rumors of him calling up the National Guard were false.”

After a brief delay, the reporter nodded and pointed to the vehicle. “Yes, Erin, I am told the vehicle behind me is called an MRAP, and it is surplus military vehicle purchased by law enforcement. It is armored and protected from improvised explosives.”

“Are terrorists using explosives in Branton?”

“Not that I have seen, but they are taking no chances here. This incident notwithstanding, they are assuring those who remain in Branton and surrounding communities that they are taking every measure to ensure their safety.”

The male anchor said, “One more question, Hugh. Naturally, this has come on the heels of the hoax over the summer involving the cows. Do the police believe there is a connection between this and the terrorist group?”

“The police and the FBI have declined to comment on any connection, and I should stress that neither law enforcement group has positively come out and declared these murders as being terrorist related. However, two of the individuals wanted for questioning were involved in that hoax this summer, so it’s clear they have not ruled out a possible connection.”

“Thank you, Hugh,” the anchor said. The window featuring the reporter vanished, and the camera focused on the two anchors. The man continued. “That was reporter Hugh Garber, currently in Branton, which we’ve come to consider ground zero in this unfolding drama.”

His counterpart blinked and shook her head dramatically. “I hadn’t even heard of Branton until two weeks ago, Phil.”

“Most people hadn’t. This story has certainly gained national attention lately. We hope the authorities will catch the people responsible quickly. To that end, the police have asked us to circulate pictures of some people wanted for questioning. We wish to reiterate that these are not suspects, but you should exercise caution if you should find yourself in contact with them. If you see them, please inform the police, and do not initiate contact.”

The first image on the screen was Sean’s, accompanied by a description. “Good luck finding him,” Jack muttered.

The next image, several seconds later, was a year-old class picture of Jessabelle. The girl in the picture was young, innocent, with a slight smile offered for the camera out of politeness. Her hair was shorter, and she looked much more than a year younger than the girl standing in the living room next to him.

The female anchor spoke. “This next picture is a new one, sent to us just minutes ago.” Jessabelle’s picture disappeared, replaced by a young woman with sand-colored hair who looked to be around twenty. She wore a white blouse with a nametag.

“That’s Elise,” Jessabelle gasped.

“Who?” Josie asked.

“A girl from the Coven who was assigned to me when I was a prisoner. She was probably the nicest person there.”

Jack frowned, piecing this together. “If she’s from the Coven, why are the police after her?” After a moment, he winced. “Oh, wait, never mind. I just figured it out.” Delcina flashed a tiny smile and gave his arm a discreet, gentle squeeze.

When the news segment ended, Delcina turned to Jessabelle. “Do you think we could trust Elise? Do you think she might genuinely flee the Coven? Or might this be some kind of trap?”

Jessabelle shrugged. “I don’t know. She seemed pretty down on the day they planned to trick me into trying to escape. She really liked the Coven, but she also seemed sincere enough. Maybe if she got a good look at what they are really like, she’d turn on ‘em.”

Raising one eyebrow, Josie asked, “Would you stake your life on that? You remember how hard it was to escape that place. There were gunshots. Elise is one of those people you ran away from.”

“She was. It sounds like maybe she ain’t anymore. It ain’t like putting my life in danger is anything new lately. I don’t know. I also don’t see as we have much choice in the matter. If she knows something, we want to talk with her, but I ain’t got a clue how we’d find her.”

Delcina said, “Enlist the aid of our witches?”

Jessabelle shook her head. “The Coven’s got a lot of witches. If it’s even possible, they are probably already doing whatever witches can do to try and get her back.”

Jack scratched at his chin. “I don’t reckon it’s all that easy. They couldn’t find you or Leon. Or Jenny’s mom—at least not for a long time.”

Josie nodded. “Magic can lead you in the right direction, but even in the best conditions it ain’t like a GPS tracker.” At everyone’s stare, she said, “Hey, I may not be in the same league as any of the folks y’all are talkin’ about, but I am still a witch, after all. I don’t just sell dream-catchers and local crafts.”

Jack snorted and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. If they can’t find her, I don’t reckon we’ve got good odds of finding her either.”

“Would she talk to Jessabelle if we could find her?” Delcina asked.

“Maybe,” Jessabelle said. “I kinda thought we were becoming friends at the Coven, but they are all really good liars over there.”

“She knows you ain’t friends with the Coven, though,” Jack said.

“The enemy of my enemy…” Josie muttered. “It’s a moot point, though, unless y’all got some way to find her.”

“Jessabelle has found two gates between our worlds,” Delcina said. “If any of us are capable of finding this woman, it would be her.”

Jessabelle shook her head. “I only found one. Burke found the other one, and I found him.”

Delcina smiled warmly. “You know you are only strengthening my case. You should go after Elise. Jack and I will see if we can get a better idea of what’s happening near Branton.”

Jack already knew he would lose this argument, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to win it, but he put up a token defense. “Jessabelle would be really useful with us. She can get into places we ain’t going to be able to get close to by ourselves.”

Delcina nodded. “You are correct. However, if Jessabelle can find and talk to this woman, she may have far more information than anything we can discover from the outside. If Hothlurian wants her dead or captured, we need to rescue her. And then there’s simply the fact that this Elise sounds as though she needs help.”

Yep. He’d lost the argument before he’d opened his mouth.

“In a nutshell, this whole trip was pretty useless,” Sean said with a frustrated sigh at the end of his report to Crane and other Warden officers. Jenny and Annie sat in on the periphery of the discussion inside the giant tent that acted as Crane’s headquarters. The two gave him friendly faces and sympathetic looks as Sean and his surviving team gave a thoroughly depressing run-down of what little they had learned over several weeks.

Crane shook her head slowly. “Disappointing, yes, but not useless. There is much about the portals and Hothlurian’s nature that the Wardens have forgotten.”

Borden bristled. It was subtle, but Sean had picked up cues the last several weeks. The young lieutenant had not taken the death of the two Wardens in his command very well. None of them had. They had buried the men at the Citadel, and then Borden couldn’t leave soon enough. Finding Crane and the encampment had taken them three days. “Surely the Wardens have maintained contact with the Dogwood Clan. Maybe they can provide us with more of that poison, in case Hothlurian regains his power and comes through.”

Crane pursed her lips and shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. In modern times, the only known member of the Dogwood Clan that we knew of was an exile and traitor, serving Taliel. He was dispatched by Jack Parsons three months ago.”

Sean cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth, I think Taft’s ghost was wrong. There was a priest on our side who destroyed the crossroad at Blood Creek without committing suicide, as far as I know. He was still around for Thadeus to torture to death afterward.”

“Is there any way to find out how he did it?”

Sean shrugged. “He never told me. Believe me, I’ve asked.”

Crane raised an eyebrow. Sean ignored her. After a few moments, the Commander stood up. “I suppose that will do for now. Thank you for this undertaking. It was a great risk and sacrifice for you all. Do not think for a moment that the expedition was a failure. While you may not have provided the answers we’d hoped for, you obtained answers for questions we hadn’t thought to ask. Lieutenant Borden, for now you and your men shall be attached to Lieutenant Haley’s platoon. Thank you. Dismissed.”

The lieutenant saluted Crane, which she returned with great sobriety. Borden gave a respectful nod to Sean as he left the tent.

Crane turned to Sean. “Once again, thank you for this. It was a difficult thing to ask, but we needed to know.”

“There’s nothing else?”

She shook her head. “No. Not now. If we think of more questions, we’ll talk then. I’ll see to it you are provided with quarters.”

Sean shrugged and left the tent. Jenny and Annie followed him.

“There’s a barrel of water over yonder where you can wash up if you want,” Annie said, pointing down the hill. “It’s set a ways off from the one we use for drinking water. We don’t want anyone getting those confused. Dinner will be in a couple of hours, but if you need anything before that, let me know.”

Sean nodded. He was peripherally aware of being hungry and frustrated, but mainly he just felt exhausted and lost. Now that the report was concluded, he felt like a leaky balloon that had finally lost the last bit of its air, and was now just a shriveled piece of useless rubber.

Annie made a clucking noise. “And if I were you, I’d see Debbie before dinner time.”

The mention of her name made it real. Pain, anxiety, fear, and a mixture of who-knows-how-many emotions shot through his exhaustion. “Has she mentioned me while I’ve been gone?”

Jenny rolled her eyes. Annie simply said, “Go see her.” The two of them walked off, while Sean stood on path to the center of the camp watching them go.

Did Debbie want to see him? She’d acted like she had some serious post-traumatic stress issues when he’d left weeks ago, and he was a triggering factor. Or had he read too much into it? In that moment several days ago near the graveyard, he’d been reminded of how he still felt.

At the moment, he was terrified. He’d been in enough terrifying situations in the last several months to recognize that feeling. What should he say to her? The first words he said might wreck their relationship forever. If there was even a chance of having one in the first place.

He found the water barrel Annie had pointed out. He dunked his head in, and then remembered he didn’t have a comb. He ran his fingers through his hair. As the ripples in the water smoothed out, he looked at his reflection. He wasn’t as smudged with dirt and dust from the trail, but he still looked pretty scraggly. Only now he looked half-drowned and scraggly. Yeah, he’d be nervous if someone looking like him turned up.

He shook his head, water dripping from his hair. “I look like hell. And I probably smell like it, too.”

Debbie’s voice came from behind him. “I haven’t been to Hell, but I’m sure I’ve seen worse.”

Sean whipped around, self consciously running his fingers through his hair as if it would make a difference. “Debbie! Hi!”

Did his voice sound eager? Yeah, it definitely sounded too eager. He could be cool around ghosts. He couldn’t play it cool around her. He sucked at it.

Her hair was lighter and her skin was darker—she’d seen a lot more sun lately. She lacked the ethereal beauty of a ghost, or whatever magic had given Taliel her almost unearthly looks. She wore no makeup, was dressed in a plain cotton dress, and her much shorter hair was tied with a simple black ribbon. The mystique and magic was gone. She was just an ordinary girl, like she had been nearly fifty years ago. Yet to him she remained mesmerizing.

She took a hesitant step forward. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me, too.” Trying to think of anything to say, he went for the obvious. “You, uh, cut your hair! Again!”

“Yes. I got it cut a few weeks ago. Anything to look less like Taliel.” She paused and took a slow breath. “Thanks for noticing.”

Sean’s throat tightened. “It…um…it looks nice.”

“Thanks.” She glanced down at the ground, and then back at his face. “You know, the last time we talked, when I told you I needed some time?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I remember.” Hardly a day went by when he didn’t think about that.

“When I said that, I was kind of thinking maybe a couple of days to a week.”

“Oh.” Oh? That was legendarily stupid to say, and she blushed. “It’s not like I had much choice in the matter. They sent me on a wild goose chase, but they thought I could help.”

She nodded quickly. “I know. Oh, deep down some part of me thought I’d chased you off, and I felt really bad about that. Of course, I’m surrounded by a bunch of people sworn to do their duty around here, so I understand. You did what you had to do. Everyone is.”

“Yeah, but I should have… I dunno. Done stuff differently, I guess. I’ve had a lot of time to think the last few weeks, though.”

She clasped her hands and her face grew tight. “Yeah?”

“Well, we’ve been through a lot. You more than me, even if you don’t remember it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

This was stupid. He was in no shape to do this. He was still filthy, and probably not in any emotional state to do anything right now. But his mouth was running and his brain didn’t have enough energy to shut it up.

“I just mean we’ve been through a lot together, and it means a lot to me whether you remember it or not. Maybe you think it was some other girl. I just know that I stared falling for that girl at WVU a year ago, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her since. And all these weeks with the Wardens, I’ve been kicking myself because I didn’t tell you that before I left. And I haven’t quit thinking about you every day.”

For a moment, he thought she was scowling at him. But then a corner of her mouth turned up. “I reckon that does it.”

“Does what?” He’d screwed everything up now. It was over. Somehow he’d offended her or freaked her out. Yeah, he’d proven he was a clingy, creepy type of guy. She was done.

“It says what I needed to hear. Let me tell you what I remember. I remember being attacked. I remember being terrified. I remember being powerless. I remember being stuck in an endless nightmare, repeating the same night—or maybe nights—over and over.”

Sean looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.”

“It was. But I also remember something else. I remember meeting a boy, and talking with him for hours. Dancing with him. Kissing him. Then the nightmare ended. I think it was the same boy who stepped in front of a bunch of soldiers to save my life a little later on.”

Sean looked up. “You remember that?”

She stepped closer. Close enough to touch, if he dared. She fixed his eyes with hers. “Some of it. There’s a bunch more that’s kind of muddled. But I keep seeing your face.” She pursed her lips together and squinted one eye as she paused, then said, “It was a little less beard-y, though.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t look too bad on you. But that’s the face, alright.” She shook her head. “It’s so stupid. I guess I was some kind of ghost for years, but you’ve been haunting me for weeks. It’s freaking me out a little bit.”

Before he could stop himself, Sean joked, “Hey, you started it! I couldn’t get you off my mind since…” He let it taper off. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t your fault. But we should probably quit doing that to each other.”

Sean nodded. “Hopefully, now that I’m back—you’re back—we’re both back, we’ll get to spend our time getting to know each other for real, instead of our phantoms.”

Somehow they’d gravitated even closer. She smelled like homemade soap. He was afraid how he smelled to her, but she didn’t seem to notice anything wrong as she raised her hand and adjusted his wet collar. “I think you are right.” She looked away from the collar and into his eyes. “I’m looking forward to getting to know the real you better.”

He found himself leaning in, and she responded by tilting her face up to meet his. Their lips met. It was electric, and at once both a thrill and a feeling of…coming home.

All too soon, the moment was over, as Debbie started giggling. Sean tilted his head back. “Wait, did I do something wrong?”

She snorted and wiped her forehead. “Naw. It’s just that water dripped from your hair onto my face. And your beard tickles.”

From somewhere on the slope above them, Annie cried out a war-whoop and called, “It’s about time, you two!”

Jenny turned away from the scene below and rolled her eyes, grumbling, “Grandma! Sheesh! Give them some privacy, please?”

“What? They are kissing right there by the wash-barrel where anyone could see! Besides, I have been waiting for Debbie to find herself a decent boy since 1970, so I’m entitled to cheer.”

Jenny shook her head, but stifled a giggle. Sometimes her grandma acted like a teenager, especially around Debbie. After all Debbie was still a teenager, at least in spirit. Her body appeared not much older than that. For such a horrible monster, Taliel at least had kept her stolen body young and beautiful, even if only for her own vain purposes.

Jenny walked away. She had a couple of hours to kill before dinner, and this time she wasn’t assigned to help prepare or clean up the meals. Not that she disliked doing it, but it was nice to have an evening with no responsibilities in the encampment. However, she didn’t know what to do with herself. Sean and Debbie had some catching up to do. Jessabelle, Jack, and the princess had been gone all day, although Jessabelle had returned briefly to give a quick update on the situation.

Her short walk took her to the excavation site. Two Warden guards stood outside the steep sloping tunnel that led down into the stone chamber. They nodded as she drew near. “Good afternoon, Miss Morgan,” one of the guards said.

She smiled and waved. “How are you?”

“Hungry and tired,” the other guard said. The first one laughed. “Fine, ma’am.”

Jenny peered into the darkness down the sloping hole. “All quiet in there?”

“Yes ma’am. Nobody since Miss Rose came out last night.”

It was tantalizing. The crossroad back at Blood Creek had to be kept sealed. She and Annie had reinforced the seal. Other than the little magical glow of a path that she sensed with her Sight when she stood near it, it was simply a spot in a clearing. It was nothing. By contrast, this one was wide open. Her friends were just a few feet away, yet in another world. Home, for whatever that meant these days.

Based on what Sean had uncovered, there was much more to the portals than Jenny or Annie had ever suspected. In addition, the old priest had known of a way to seal off the Crossroads permanently. Jenny hated that idea, but if it prevented Thadeus from crossing over, it might be necessary. But could there be more to learn from the passageways that could be a weapon against the Man in the White Suit?

The Crossroads needed study. She and Grandma Annie needed to take the time to do that. She looked at one of the guards. “Hey, who would I have to talk to in order to get permission to go down there? Commander Crane?”

The guard shook his head. “No need. You are on the list.”

“What list?”

“The list of people authorized to enter. It’s not a long list. You, Annabelle, Miss Arnot, Owen, and the team that is already there can come and go as you need.”

“Oh! Nobody told me.” She pointed. “So I could just go down there right now?”

The guard shrugged. “Those are our instructions.”

Jenny nodded. She might not be on the list much longer after this, but she knew what she was going to do while waiting for dinner.

“I’m going down now, then.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard responded.

She descended the scramble of dirt leading into the chamber, and then waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. At night, the room would be nearly pitch black. The chamber was large enough to hold a number of people, although one corner had half-collapsed under the weight of a centuries—plus build-up of dirt, and the threads of tree roots that had wormed their way through the rock.

She extended her Sight, and stepped toward the center of the chamber. A shimmering pathway coalesced in front of her, a faint golden display that could have been random nerves firing in the darkness for lack of anything else to see. However, as she moved around the path, its position stayed constant, anchored to the stone floor. Almost without thinking, she stepped into the hazy image.

Her stomach lurched, and after a sliver of an instance of feeling like she was nowhere at all, she appeared in the basement Jessabelle had spoken about. No one else was down here, and she felt a little embarrassed, invading someone’s home without asking.

The shimmering path of gold light was almost completely against the wall here. She stepped through again, and after a split second, emerged in the darkness of the subterranean chamber.

She grinned. Science classes in school had never been this interesting. She went back and forth twice more, first crossing quickly through the portal with a leap, then deliberately moving as slowly as she could. Either way made no difference. One moment she was in one world, and then she got caught up in the path, and after a brief transition found herself in the next.

Next, she practiced moving into the Crossroads without transitioning. This proved surprisingly difficult. Now that she knew about the portal, her subconscious pushed her through. She accidentally slipped through more than a dozen times before being able to contact the portal without crossing.

“Are you okay down there?” one of the guards called down as she reappeared Around the Bend.

“Yes, I’m just fine.”

“Okay, good. You’ve been down there a long time.”

“A long time? How long?”

“Almost an hour, Miss Morgan.”

“An hour?” Jenny moved to the entryway and checked her watch. Only a half-hour had elapsed. He must have been mistaken.

Unless he wasn’t.

Jenny climbed out of the chamber, and said to the guards, “I’ll be right back!” She descended back into the encampment, searching for Sean. He was nowhere to be found, and naturally, neither was Debbie. However, Jennie found Min on a log stool at the edge of the encampment, attempting to repair a blouse with needle and thread. That, or she was busily inventing new ways to use swear words and simply using the sewing to keep her hands occupied during her brainstorm.

“Min, do you have a watch?”

Min looked up at Jenny. “Uh, yes. Why?”

“May I borrow it, please?”

“For what?”

“An experiment. I’m timing something.”

Min narrowed her eyes, noting Jenny’s watch on her wrist, and then glancing up the hill toward the excavation. ”No, you can’t. But you can bring me with you to help. I am bored to tears.”

Jenny shrugged. “Okay. Deal.”

They returned to the excavation, but the guards stopped them. “I’m sorry, Miss Min, but you are not authorized to go down there.”

Min raised an eyebrow. “But Jenny is?”

“Yes, ma’am. We need authorization from Commander Crane before you follow her down there.”

Min glanced at Jenny. Crane would probably not approve of what they were doing, and would put a stop to Jenny’s experiments. Min was no mind reader, but she seemed to recognized Jenny’s look and waved her hand in the air. “You know what? Totally unnecessary. I’ll stay up here. Or can I move closer to the entrance?” She shuffled toward the hole.

“That’s far enough.”

“Oh? Not an inch further? This is fine, but another inch is not?” She scuffed one foot closer to the hole.

“Please, miss. Just get permission from Commander Crane.”

Min shook her head. “Perhaps this is close enough. Jenny, what do you need me to do?”

Jenny raised her wrist, checking her watch, and comparing it to Min’s. “We should synchronize these. It looks like mine is several minutes behind already.” Jenny adjusted her watch so that it was within a fraction of a second of the time on Min’s watch. “I’ll be right back.”

Min smirked. “I’ll be right here. And not an inch closer, right, boys?”

The guards shifted uncomfortably. Jenny scrambled back down the slope in to the chamber, marched in through the Crossroads, and emerged in the Ankrums’ basement. Then she turned around, stepped back through the wall into the excavation site. Min stood waiting for her at the top of the tunnel.

“That wasn’t very long,” Min said, holding up her wrist. Jenny compared the times. Her own watch was nearly a minute behind.

“Where did the minute go?” Jenny asked.

Min raised an eyebrow. “Into the past?” she said with a half-smile.

“Come on! I mean the trip across the Crossroads feels almost instant. But here on the other side, it takes more time than that. Somewhere between twenty and thirty seconds. It means time moves differently inside and outside the Crossroads.”

“Well, that’s just…” Min paused, exaggerating her mental hunt for the right word. “Nifty. Super-nifty. I guess you just saved the world with that.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “It shouldn’t be possible. Or maybe it is, with something Einstein figured out.”

Min took a deep breath, and smiled. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You may have been the first person to discover this. I don’t mean to diminish that, and I’m very glad I was here for it. Someday, if we’re extremely lucky, maybe that will be something you can publish in a scientific journal somewhere. I was just trying to figure out how we could use it as some kind of defense, but I honestly can’t think of anything.”

“Do you know how they work?”

“Of course not. Nobody does, except maybe the Man in the White Suit.”

Jenny pointed into the hole in the wall. “Exactly! We know how to seal it up to stop anyone from coming through, but we don’t know anything else. He knows how to create them. Even if he can’t come through personally, he’s been using them since at least the 1970s. We’re at a huge disadvantage unless we start learning everything we can about them.”

Min exhaled sharply. “You know what? You are absolutely right. I shouldn’t have been so dismissive. Based on the stories I’ve heard, you sound a lot like your mother. That’s why she was the boss.”

Jenny shook her head. “I have trouble even imagining that.” A fresh wave of emotion hit her. In spite of everything she’d been through lately, she’d still lost her parents only a few months ago. Sometimes she forgot how fresh the wound was, and how quickly the pain came back.

Min touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about her.”

Jenny shook her head, and quickly wiped at her eye before tears could fully form. “It’s okay. It’s not like I don’t want to talk about them or anything. I just miss them. I’d probably be such a disappointment to her right now. She always taught me to be so careful, and to stay unnoticed. I never understood why. And here I am, doing anything but that, fighting in a hopeless cause against the man that killed her.”

Min shrugged. “Look, it’s not my place or anything, but personally, I can’t imagine her or anyone being disappointed in you. Nobody with half a brain, anyway. If anything, you’ve made me kind of embarrassed about myself. You’re doing the right thing. Maybe the stupid thing, but the right thing. And maybe I’m stupid, too, for not running off weeks ago. But maybe, just maybe, with enough people like you willing to do the right thing—fighting, searching for a solution—maybe we have a very slim chance after all.”

Josie laid Jessabelle’s jacket on her coffee table. “Not exactly a summer jacket,” she commented.

“I wore it out into the rain the day after I got it. I got it back from the Coven at the hospital, and then I wore it when I went Around the Bend. I haven’t worn it much since, but I take it with me everywhere. Will it still work?”

Josie nodded, picking up a collection of stones in both hands. “It will work nicely, I’m sure. Trying to find people or things can be very difficult. At least for me, magic doesn’t work like a GPS. It works with more primitive symbols, closer to the gut than to the mind. It is vague, error-prone, and subject to interpretation. However, sometimes it will work when nothing else will.”

“I ain’t got any other ideas,” Jessabelle said. “But how will I know if it worked?”

“You won’t. You’ll have to follow your gut. It may point you in the right direction, assuming we interpret it correctly, but what you do from there is up to you. All I can say is that it works. This kind of witchcraft causes coincidences like you would not believe. Old friends—or enemies—just bumping into each other. Opportunities falling into your lap. The trick is to recognize it when you see it, and to take advantage of it. So many times, people have what they want appear right in front of them, and then they turn around and walk the other way.” More quietly, she added, “I suspect the Coven used something like this to discover us in July. I haven’t worked out how else they could have done it.”

“Could the Coven use something like this to find us now?”

Josie shrugged. “It’s always possible. Not that I figure they’d be looking for you. But like I said, coincidences happen when you use this kind of witchcraft. You are part of this world, now. If you put yourself out there and make yourself easy to find, you also need to be wary in case you end up as somebody else’s opportunity.”

Josie closed her eyes, and chanted words in an unfamiliar language. After repeating the incantation three times, she tossed the stones in the air over the jacket. All but two landed on the lining of the jacket with a muffled plop, while two clacked and spun on the table surface. Most of the stones had symbols carved onto them.

Jessabelle said nothing as Josie studied the stones. Jessabelle had been around enough witches to figure out that this was an important part of the process. Josie pursed her lips, and her forehead creased. Cocking her head to one side, she said, “Well, I’m not sure how useful this really is, but I can tell you what it looks like.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t bother trying to find any information on Elise. I reckon the Coven’s already after that angle. I focused on you instead, and what would help you in your mission.”

“What did they say?”

Josie shrugged. “The stones don’t get all that specific. Now, if you were someone who had lost something and needed help finding it, I’d say this meant you should go back to where you last had it and search again.”

Jessabelle wrinkled her nose. “Going back to where I lost something? The only time I met Elise was back in that base where you and Leon rescued me.”

Josie motioned to two stones touched, with one leaning over the other. “These stones represent an ally and an enemy. The way they touch suggests it may be the same person.”

“Elise was an enemy, or part of the Coven. Maybe it means she’s an ally now?”

Josie shook her head. “There’s no telling. You don’t want to force your expectations into the meaning, but I suppose that’s a reasonable interpretation.” She pointed to the stone in the center of the jacket. “This is the one that concerns me the most. This signifies literal death.”

“Who dies?”

“I don’t know. It could be a lot of people. It could mean that if you do nothing, someone might die. It could mean that if you do this, you will die. Your mission is rooted in death.”

Jessabelle took a deep breath and nodded. Yeah, it was scary to have that pointed out, but this was not a surprise. She’d seen more death over the summer than she had expected to see in her entire life. She hoped not to see any more tonight, though, and maybe if she knew the danger, she could better avoid it. “There ain’t anything more specific?”

Josie shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jessabelle. Even for extremely powerful witches, foretelling is vague and prone to misinterpretation. It’s useful as a guide and a warning, but it ain’t exact or foolproof.”

“It’s okay.” Jessabelle sighed. “It was tough enough to break out of that place. At least this time, they won’t be expecting me to break in. Can you drive me there now?”

* * *

Josie parked her SUV on the side of the road in a spot barely touched by streetlights that winked on as the sun set over the hills. “You be careful, okay?” She said to Jessabelle. “You sure you don’t want me to stay here? I’ll be ready for a quick getaway.”

Jessabelle smiled and opened the passenger side door. “Thanks for the offer, but if I really get in trouble, it wouldn’t be smart to lead them to you, wouldn’t it? You are kind of our big secret weapon. The stones said this is what I need to do, right? I’ll be fine.”

Josie rolled her eyes. “The stones don’t work like that. Just be careful. We ain’t playing around, and neither are they.”

“I’ll be careful, but I also have to see this through. Like you said, ‘We ain’t playing around’. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Josie made a grumbling noise, but drove off. Jessabelle sighed and looked around. The last time she’d been here, it had been broad daylight, and there had been men with guns chasing her and Leon. There was approximately zero chance she’d find Elise here, especially if the Coven was hunting her. That wasn’t the point. She didn’t know what she’d find, but if Josie’s stones were in any way accurate, she’d stumble into something, or the other way around.

While she tried to walk casually, with every step she grew more certain how suspicious she looked. She strolled around the side of a store and knelt down behind the only car in the side-parking lot. She checked around one last time to make sure she was unobserved, and then transformed into the cat. It no longer brought her pain like it had done the first few weeks after she’d been shot. Once again, changing felt smooth, painless, and perfectly natural, as if the house cat was her true form after all, and the panther and the girl were just disguises.

Jessabelle slunk along the roads based on the electronic maps she’d studied. As the cat, her self-consciousness and worry melted away. She imagined a story written about her: Jessabelle Rose, international super-spy. Agent of the Queen (of Sanguine) and of the President. She’d never really considered her ability to change form as something that could be a career option. She’d been terrified of somebody discovering her secret on this side of the Crossroads. The last three months, surrounded by people who found it merely remarkable rather than horrifying, she’d come to re-think the possibilities. If there were more people here on Earth who believed in these things and were willing to work with her, perhaps a number of options would become available.

But only once the Coven was destroyed.

Her cheerful thoughts came to a sudden end when she heard a threatening growl in the nearby yard. She chided herself for her un-cat-like daydreaming when she should have been paying attention to her instincts. She bolted away, but not before the dog barked a warning loud enough to wake up half the town.

So much for the super-spy idea.

After making a hasty circuit of the neighborhood, wary of dogs, oncoming cars, and similar nuisances, she approached the parking structure where she’d made her exit only weeks ago. The sparse streetlights made the “Office Space Available” sign on the adjoining building readable in the darkness. Sniffing the air, she padded her way down the ramp into the parking area.

Bags of trash and an abandoned shopping buggy were the only things occupying the garage. Keeping to the shadows, she went down to the lower floor and the basement entrance to the old compound.

Not much had changed, aside from there being no sign that anyone had ever used this entrance. The doors were closed, without a hint of light peeking from between the cracks. The Coven had been thorough in covering its tracks. It was almost perfect, but for two cars parked in the far corner of the garage.

Jessabelle made a circuit of the cars. While it didn’t seem unusual that someone might take advantage of the unused parking space, the fact they were parked on the bottom level was suspicious. Both cars looked expensive, especially compared to the cars she saw around Maple Bend and Branton. These weren’t pickup trucks;with the windows closed tight, and probably with car alarms set, there was no way to sneak into either car.

After a careful, final look around the level to make sure she was unobserved by person or camera, Jessabelle transformed back into the girl. Immediately, she felt lost and vulnerable, her eyes incapable of adjusting to the darkness half as well as the cat’s. She stepped up to the door and tried the handle. It was locked, of course, but it was worth a try.

Leo had taught her to pick locks during her brief stay with him, but she’d had very little experience before fleeing to Around the Bend, and the locks on that side were far simpler than the ones here. The circular lock on the door was something else entirely. Jessabelle cast about, looking for some alternative method of entry. Maybe she could get in from the outside? Why had Josie’s spell sent her here if there was no way for her to get in? Maybe they’d interpreted it wrong.

Muffled voices came from the other side of the door. Jessabelle transformed back into the cat immediately and leaped into the nearest pool of shadow huddling there in silence. For a few seconds, she wondered if she’d imagined it, or had overreacted. Then the handle turned, the door opened, and two people walked out, a young man and an older woman. For a brief moment, Jessabelle considered rushing in before the door closed again, but there was no way she could do it without being noticed, even in the darkness. Instead, she simply listened.

She recognized the voice of the young man, even if she couldn’t see his face from her low vantage point as they walked away from her. Gabriel was charming, good looking, and dangerous. He was the one who had tried to recapture her for the Coven in the hospital three months ago, and he’d seemed to have zero guilt about it. She didn’t recognize the woman’s voice.

“Why are you sending me out on this wild goose chase?” he asked. “I’d be much more useful back at the site.”

“I’m not the one sending you out, Gabriel. He is. And it is a very serious matter he is entrusting to you. To us. My reputation is on the line, too.”

The two made their way to the parked cars. As they walked, Jessabelle slowly followed them, keeping to the shadows.

“Okay, why is he sending us to do this?” Gabriel’s voice, which Jessabelle once thought of as being soothing and almost melodic, now grated on her. “I thought I was doing a good job out there in Branton.”

“It has nothing to do with that. You were the best choice for this task. And he’s got more than enough firepower up in Maple Bend to handle things for now.”

“But why now? Maple Bend is where the action is, and in a few days it won’t matter one bit what Elise knows.”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to Gabriel, glowering. Jessabelle froze as the woman said, “Gabriel, you ever see someone killed right before your eyes? Not succumbing to disease or old age, but actually cut down right in front of you?”

Gabriel flinched and shrugged. “Not exactly, no.”

“You will, soon. And it might be friends of yours on the receiving end. If you keep up this whining, it will be you, and I may have to watch it happen. As your mentor, it reflects badly on me. Don’t rush this, Gabriel. And whatever you do, don’t whine! Thadeus is not your manager at a fast-food restaurant. When his patience expires, he’ll think nothing of killing you for a minor infraction.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. I’ve met him. He isn’t the bogeyman you like to believe he is.”

“You think you know him? Tell me, why do you think we were sent to bring Elise to him? What do you imagine he will do her when we find her?”

“What do you mean?”

She looked skyward, at the concrete floor above her. “Seriously? Do you think he’ll just slap the back of her hand and say, ‘Hey, next time you want to betray us, give us two week’s notice first’? Especially the way he’s been this summer? What do you think happened to Dmitri, or Alisson, or Evelyn?”

Gabriel’s face fell. When he spoke, his voice was so low Jessabelle could barely understand it. “What happened to them, Tara?”

The woman brought her fist to her mouth and sucked in her breath. After a quick glance down at the floor again, she said, “It doesn’t matter. Look, the most powerful man in the world just asked you to do a job. Don’t second guess him, just do it. You were instrumental in catching that cat-girl this summer, so you know what you are doing. I’ll stay close, but out of your way. Contact me when you’ve found Elise, then get out of there. I don’t want you anywhere nearby when we retrieve her.”

“I should be there when it happens.”

“Absolutely not!”

He took a step back. “Why not?”

Tara shook her head, and waved her hand. “It is best if she has no idea you were involved.” Her voice was less strident now, measured. “Trust me on this, Gabriel. I will make certain you get all the credit. Find her, make the call, and get out of there. I’ll take care of the rest. Deal?” She hesitated, staring sideways from his shoulder toward her car.

He nodded. “Deal. But you will have to tell me about Dmitri. He’s my friend. I was told he was reassigned.”

Tara shook her head and crossed to her car. She hesitated as she opened the car door, and said, “Look, I can’t talk about it. Not now. Dmitri screwed up and paid the price. Don’t make the same mistake. That’s all you need to know.” She sighed. “I’ll be close. Call me if anything develops.” She got into her car and started it, and the headlights came perilously close to illuminating Jessabelle. She dodged to the side and fled to a pillar, where she watched Tara drive up the ramp and out of the parking garage.

Gabriel stood in the darkness, staring at the floor. Once the sound of Tara’s engine disappeared, his shoulders slumped, and he got into his car.

Was this the fortune Josie had mentioned? Under normal circumstances, Gabriel couldn’t be trusted. No, under any circumstances, he couldn’t be trusted. He probably had magical powers. He was absolutely an enemy and a dangerous threat. At the very least, he was a ruthless, manipulative bastard.

But if she did nothing, if she let him drive off, what would she have gained? Would another opportunity to find Elise drop into her lap?

Without fully understanding why she was doing it, Jessabelle leaped halfway up the ramp. As his car approached, she changed into the girl, standing in front of his headlights. The car stopped instantly, and Gabriel stepped out, door alarm chiming softly as he stared at her. “Jessabelle? Is that you?”

She tried to speak calmly, ignoring her furiously beating heart. She reminded herself that this incredibly stupid idea had sounded like her only shot seconds ago. “It’s me. I don’t know who Dmitri is, but I know what happened to Evelyn. I watched Thadeus kill her. He snapped her neck in the middle of a conversation.”

“You heard us talking? Why are you telling me this?” He narrowed his eyes at her, as if trying to understand layers of hidden motives. Maybe he was used to dealing with people as devious as he was.

She shrugged. “Because you sounded like you really were friends with Dmitri, and I reckon there might be more to you than an asshole eager to prove himself. You are going to help me find Elise.”

When he was a kid, Elkins had been the closest thing to a “big city” that Jack knew. Nestled in a valley, on a cloudy day surrounded by red brick buildings, it felt like another world of flat spaces and an infinite number of people. There were movie theaters, pizza parlors, shopping centers, and museums. It had everything. It was not until he’d visited Charleston the first time as a teenager that he realized just how small Elkins really was.

He felt the same way now, standing with Delcina and Zeke in what amounted to the Elkins city center. The whole world seemed smaller now after he’d discovered a brand new one Around the Bend. Still, his new perspective changed everything. If he’d had time, if the world wasn’t in jeopardy, Jack would have liked to just show them around, take Delcina for pizza and to a movie. Something normal. Later, he promised himself.

Delcina feigned disinterest and boredom in an effort to blend in, but her disguise would often drop as the sights of the modern world excited or confused her. Zeke, on the other hand, looked like a tourist. No matter how hard he tried to keep a poker-face, his attention was constantly diverted to what Jack considered mundane things, like cars going by. Admittedly, Jack liked being able to impress them. After spending months trying to understand their world, it was nice to be on the other side of things.

“So this friend of yours, Cody,” Delcina began. “How well do you trust him?” In spite of wearing modern clothes from this side of the crossroad, Delcina still carried herself like the princess she was. The pink scoop-neck t-shirt and blue jeans couldn’t fully disguise her.

Jack checked the printed map Josie had made him. “He ain’t exactly a friend. He was the cousin of a kid named Mason who used to bully me back in school. I didn’t know him that well, but he didn’t seem to approve of his cousin all that much after the seventh grade. When he graduated, he moved out here to Elkins for a construction job. He’s got family in Branton and Maple Bend, so I hope he may have some idea of what’s going on there now.”

She pointed to the map. “So this map was generated by aircraft? It’s so detailed.” She’d been fascinated by the first jet she’d seen flying across the sky when they left Josie’s house. Having just come out of a war against her step-mother, Jack suspected her interest was more than just idle curiosity. Commandos with modern rifles and night vision gear had completely wiped out an entire garrison of Wardens in July. What would happen if bad guys came Around the Bend with jets and tanks?

Hopefully they’d never find out. “I reckon, maybe. That or some of our satellites.” At her confused expression, he explained. “Um, we have machines in space around the Earth.”

“Space?”

“Um, up past the sky, I guess? You know the moon? We’ve sent men up there. Well, not in a long time, but we’ve done that. We send machines way up there, and they have cameras and radios and stuff in them.”

“To the moon?”

“Well, not quite that far, but way up there.”

“How do they stay up?”

Jack shrugged. “I wish I’d studied more in my history and science classes in school. I ain’t really sure.”

Delcina shook her head. “Your world has so many wonders. And to think we believed it was an empty and desolate place.”

For some reason, he felt guilty. “Well, y’all got witches and giants and stuff like that.”

She smiled, and squeezed his arm. “It’s not a competition, Jack.” Then, almost inaudibly, she muttered, “At least not yet.”

They walked further in silence, while Jack tried to make sense of the map and directions. Soon, they came to the small house marked 226, the address he’d found for Cody. Even if it was only rented, Jack was impressed that Cody lived in a house. It was larger than the one Jack had grown up in. Delcina and Zeke stood back as Jack pulled the screen door open and knocked on the main door behind it.

A young woman with short dark hair came to the door. She held a baby in her arms, and was probably in her third trimester with another baby on the way. She stared at the group, especially Jack, with a frown. “Yes, what is it?”

“Hi. I’m looking for Cody Flowers.”

“He’s not home right now.”

“Oh, is he at work?”

She looked at him curiously. “Yes. It’s Wednesday. He’ll be home around 6:30 tonight.”

“Oh. I reckon that makes sense.” Jack hadn’t really been following the days of the week since he’d gone Around the Bend. It was strange how something so basic to life on this side of the crossroad became irrelevant on the other. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you let him know that Jack Parsons from high school came by?”

“Sure. Does he have your number? I can have him call you.”

“I ain’t got a phone right now. I’ll just come by later tonight, if that’s okay with you.”

Her frown deepened, and she jutted out her jaw, twisting her torso slightly so that her baby was hidden a bit behind the door. “What’s this about, anyway?”

“We just wanted to ask him questions about back home in Branton and Maple Bend,” Jack said.

“Why? You from the press? If you want to ask about the road, you are supposed to talk to his employer.”

“No, we ain’t from the press. I live in Maple Bend. Well, lived. I ain’t been back for a couple of months.”

“Then why don’t you just go there yourself? Leave us out of it.”

Delcina quickly said, “Thank you for your time. Jack just wanted to catch up a bit. We shall see you later.”

The woman closed the door.

Zeke cleared his throat as they walked off the porch, and said, “Is it just me, or did that not go so well?”

Jack sighed. “Yeah. That was kind of weird.”

Delcina put her arm around Jack. “No offense, my dear Jack, but I am afraid espionage might not be in your nature.”

“I reckon it ain’t.”

She smiled. “That is not a bad thing.”

Jack checked his watch. “We have more than four hours to kill. Y’all got any ideas?”

Zeke shrugged. “I suppose we could do something like establishing a scouting position where we could look over the main roads, and see if we could identify any unusual activity. I’m not exactly certain what ‘unusual’ looks like in this world, however.”

“Honestly, I ain’t sure neither,” Jack admitted. “Unless they are driving tanks or stuff up to Maple Bend.”

Delcina nodded. “We do need to learn how to blend in. Exploring the city and observing people might help us remain unobtrusive.” She smiled at Jack. “What do you recommend, Hero? What would be the best use of our time before we meet with your contact here?”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Um, I was just gonna suggest we use some of our spending cash to grab a bite to eat and maybe visit a park or something. But y’all’s ideas are much better. I mean, we do need to save the world and stuff.”

Delcina looked to Zeke, and back to Jack. Cocking her head to one side, she hastily said, “I think a visit to a park would provide us an excellent opportunity to get a feel for the region, and food would do us good.”

Zeke nodded emphatically. “My first duty is to the Princess’s safety and well-being. You provide us with sound suggestions.”

Jack shifted back, peering at the two with a squint. “Y’all are just funnin’ with me now, aren’t you?”

Delcina shook her head, meeting Jack’s gaze. “No. Not at all. Things have been so frantic the last three months. I think it would do us good to take just a few hours to get our bearings.”

* * *

After a bit of wandering around town, Jack introduced his companions to the wonders of a fast-food restaurant, to which they responded with polite encouragement but not resounding enthusiasm. Jack didn’t quite understand it. While the Warden cooks did the best they could with limited supply, the meals in the encampment the last few weeks hadn’t exactly been home-cooked favorites. A hamburger and fries were a rare enough treat before he’d left Maple Bend, and as far as he was concerned it was the best possible meal.

Their cash wouldn’t last forever. Burke had pulled money out of the ATM in exchange for two large gold coins from Delcina. While the gold was worth ten times the value, they couldn’t just walk into a shop and sell it without raising questions. Not yet, at least. Delcina insisted the gold was a gift, but practicality allowed her to accept the money.

Jack found an ice cream parlor after that, which was met with slightly more enthusiasm. Neither Delcina nor Zeke could finish their ice cream cones, but both claimed it was delicious. Just “too much.” After an entire summer Around the Bend, Jack thought the ice cream was far sweeter than he remembered, too. He gave it a solid try and managed to finish his dessert as they walked through one of Elkins’ parks, alongside a stream. Jack took his leave to dispose of their trash in a trashcan, and then returned to find Delcina alone on a park bench.

“Where’d Zeke go?” Jack asked, taking a seat on the bench.

She motioned behind them, to the parking lot bordering the park. “He’s examining automobiles. I think he wants one. That, or one of those airplanes.”

“He wants a car?”

“Not really. He wanted to give us a little bit of time with some semblance of privacy.”

Jack snorted. “Okay, that don’t sound much like Zeke.”

“I may have encouraged this.” She offered a guilty half-smile and motioned to part of the bench beside her.

Jack sat half-turned toward her, resting his right arm over the back of the bench. They were close—just not too close. “It feels like we ain’t had half as much time to talk together like we did the last couple of days. And then it was mostly just me teaching y’all about stuff I only half-understand myself.”

She nodded. “Because we remain engaged and are not within the safety of the palace, my guards and advisers have determined that the one man I can’t see freely is you. I’m sorry. I have not been avoiding you.”

“I never thought that you were. We had a war to fight. Two wars. You been up to your eyeballs in work.”

“It’s still no excuse. Even if it is not official yet, my father’s murder has left the authority of the crown to me. I’ve been so afraid of making a mistake that I haven’t used that authority to make time for us. I keep waiting for some time to free up, but I have come to realize that this will never happen. The demands on my time will consume every waking hour I have, and more besides. Sometimes I wonder if I’d be better off abdicating now.”

Jack mulled that comment over, waiting to see if Delcina had anything further to add, but she seemed to be looking to him for a response. He shrugged and said, “I ain’t an educated guy, and I know it ain’t none of my business. But the way I figure, the people who fought over the crown really wanted the position for their own purposes, except for you. You took it out of duty. That probably makes you the best person for the job. I wish I could say otherwise, because I like being able to spend time with you. Maybe you can get other people to help you.”

Her soft smile warmed him like the afternoon sun. “You are right. I really should delegate more. My problem is finding more people I can trust. Like Bachan. And like you. Which brings me to a very difficult question.”

Jack’s mind reeled. Obviously, she’d been planning this conversation for a while, only he didn’t know his part of the script. He’d seen some shows where couples broke up in a conversation like this, which hardly seemed fair since he and Delcina hadn’t really been dating. Sure, technically they were engaged, but…

He went through so many permutations in his mind that he almost missed her actual question. “You thought you might never return to your world, but here we are. Will you stay here, or will you come back with me?”

Jack looked up in surprise, and for a moment looked past her, at the city skyline where you almost couldn’t tell there were mountains beyond the buildings. He returned his focus to Delcina’s face and her captivating blue eyes. “I got a couple of things I’ve got to take care of here. I especially need to make sure my mama’s okay.”

She looked down. “Of course. You, too, have your duty.”

“Well, yeah. But once that’s done, I reckon I might as well go back. I never had much of a future here anyhow. Back in Sanguine, there are lots of places to explore, and I’m sure I can find something I can do to earn a living. And most of all…” He paused. Yeah, he was going there, and it was frightening, but it felt right. “Most of all, I want to be wherever you are.”

She smiled softly, and her face relaxed. “It’s going to get…complicated. You understand that, right?”

Jack nodded. “I reckon it will. I don’t think I’m very good at complicated, but I’ll try. It’s worth it.”

Her smile broadened as she looked sideways back at him. “That’s why I need you. I need straightforward. I need honest.”

He patted his chest. “I reckon I’m your guy, then.”

She turned and looked into his eyes. “That is exactly what I want.”

His reached down with his left hand to take hers. He missed, grabbing her thumb at an awkward angle. She gently shifted her hand so that they were holding hands properly, ignoring his clumsiness.

Not that he had any experience in that kind of thing, but it didn’t feel like a break-up talk. Of course, that left other matters. She had to return to her kingdom soon and deal with the chaos there in the wake of the civil war. There were probably a lot of people who still believed Jack was responsible for it. And then they had the Man in the White Suit to deal with, a battle nobody was ready to fight, and if they failed, her weakened nation would be the first to fall. Even if they managed to survive all of that, there was the fact that she had to be a queen, and all that was bound to get…

Complicated.

With her other hand, she touched his cheek with warm, gentle fingers. “You were just pondering, weren’t you? You had that pondering look in your eyes,” she asked.

If he had been, the touch broke him out of it. “Sorry, Delcina. I reckon I was.”

She grinned, but her hand never left the side of his face. “And what were you pondering?”

“You and me.”

She laughed. “I approve of the topic, if not the timing. However, we have a few minutes of relative privacy for the first time in weeks. If you are really concerned about our relationship together, I would recommend that you prove your…”

He leaned forward, and she interrupted herself to meet him halfway in a kiss. Her hand gripped his more tightly. After a few moments, she pulled back, and said, “It took you long enough.”

Their lips met again, exploring. He pulled her closer, and the moment exploded with vibrancy. Every touch, every motion was amplified. The touch of her fingers as she slid her hand around his neck sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. For a moment, everything was…perfect. All the worries and fears and complications dropped away. For this one instant in time, on a dingy little park bench, he was happy. They were happy.

The moment was shattered as the sound of approaching voices intruded on their no-longer-private oasis. In the same instant, they separated, and Delcina’s back stiffened as she composed herself, once again appearing regal even in her casual modern clothing.

A woman said, “We’ve talked them down to ninety percent of their original price. Even so, without additional contracts, we’ve only got enough to keep this going for about twelve months.”

“Good work, Cheryl,” a man said. “Twelve months should be much more than enough. We may not need more than twelve weeks before this entire affair is concluded.” His voice sent a chill up Jack’s spine. How was this possible?

He stiffened as Thadeus stepped along the trail and said, “My, my, what have we here?”

Jenny and her grandmother flanked Lisbet, who looked skeptically at the strand of Jenny’s red hair in her hand, glowing almost white in the light from the setting sun outside the dig site.

Annie nodded approvingly, and said, “It’s a good plan, Lisbet. My granddaughter has a scientific mind.”

Jenny hadn’t ever thought of herself as that scientific or analytical, and took her grandmother’s compliment as little more than bolstering their case, but she still felt a smile creeping onto her lips. It worked. Lisbet sighed, shoulders slumped, and wiped the sweaty grime from her forehead with the back of her free hand. “It seems so strange, prodding and experimenting with a gateway as if it were such a common plaything.”

“It ain’t like we’re afraid of ruining it,” Annie said. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Lisbet shook her head. “It’s not that. We don’t have many records from before the gateways were sealed, but the old stories suggest they were dangerous. Powerful. The forces of magic and nature necessary to form these portals must be immense. Sean confirmed that Wardens sacrificed their lives to close them before. We must not treat such things casually.”

Jenny spoke up. “I’m not treating it casually, but we need to learn how to better use them and control them. If the Wardens had been better about preserving what they knew, we might not have to re-learn it now. No offense.”

“None taken. I agree with you, Jenny. From what Taft told Sean, it sounds as if there were a number of secrets about the gates that our predecessors guarded too well.”

“Thadeus and his daughter had a way to communicate with each other between the worlds, but it took weeks.” Jenny pointed to the hair in Lisbet’s hand. “If we can get this working, we can communicate between worlds instantly. That’s all I’m proposing.”

Lisbet nodded. “Very well. It could be useful to monitor events on the other side of the portal, especially if we do not experience the delay of physically crossing over.”

Jenny nodded quickly. “It’s a start.”

Closing her fist around the hair, Lisbet muttered words in the strange language Jenny was only beginning to understand. She recognized “vision” and “minds,” which made sense in the context, but it didn’t remind her of anything like her family’s spells. Lisbet once explained that the words by themselves were useless to a non-witch, or anyone not steeped in the traditions of the Wardens. It wasn’t the words, but the meaning they invoked, which powered the witch’s craft.

Nothing seemed to happen, but Jenny had never detected the presence of the spell before. Perhaps it wasn’t invisible to her Sight, but she hadn’t had the desire to test it before. That would be for another day. “Did it work?” she asked.

Lisbet nodded. “I’m ready. Go through the gateway.”

Jenny scrambled down into the enclosure and focused on the center of the chamber until she saw the golden path with the Sight. “Ready?” she asked.

“I remain ready,” Lisbet’s voice came to her mind, although she could dimly hear the woman’s real voice up above her, outside the stone chamber. “I can see what you are seeing. Go.”

Jenny stepped through. As she did, she tried to focus on the path itself, the moment of darkness that passed by her in an eyeblink before she came out the other side.

As she stood in the now-familiar basement, her mind filled with Lisbet’s voice, or rather the memory of her voice. Calls to make certain she was okay. “Hello?” Jenny said in the darkness of the basement.

“Jenny, can you hear me?” Lisbet asked, her voice faint.

“Yes. Can you hear me?”

“I can now.” Relief filled Lisbet’s voice. “I thought the spell had failed. I lost contact with you for several seconds. I couldn’t see anything, and you did not respond.”

“You couldn’t see what I was passing through?”

“No. I can see through your eyes now, however. It sounds like we are speaking to each other without a delay. Your experiment is a success.”

Jenny sighed. They still had no information on the space inside the Crossroads beyond their calculations and the story Sean had heard. Did time simply pass more quickly there? The timing experiment was not conclusive. The memories of Lisbet’s voice were another mystery. Had she heard the voice during her trip, unable to register or respond? Or had they cued up like a recording to play when she arrived back in the real world? Perhaps she had only imagined it.

Just a few months ago, she didn’t believe in magic. And now she wanted to measure its effects like a scientist. While she was skilled at protections and not too bad at healing and a few other things, as a witch, she still felt clueless and completely out of her league. If only her mother had explained things to her before it was too late.

A rush of emotion caused an audible whimper that Jenny didn’t quite stifle in time. This was not the time!

“Jenny, is there a problem?” Lisbet’s voice came to her mind.

“No,” Jenny said. She was composed again. Nothing to see here.

“Okay. Good job, Jenny. Come on back. I think we learned a lot this evening.”

Not enough. Jenny considered how she entered the Crossroads. Could she do something different this time? “Okay. Keep watching, and keep talking to me. Maybe you will be able to see something this time.”

“Of course.”

The ancient Wardens knew more about the nature of the Crossroads and stepped into the world between the worlds to destroy the portals. If that knowledge was lost, then it had to be rediscovered, one step at a time. Jenny took a step onto the golden ribbon of light that marked the path between the two worlds. After her experiments with Min, Jenny had learned the exact moment of transition.

This time, at that exact moment, Jenny deliberately stopped. Fighting momentum between the two worlds was almost like stopping in mid-run, and the results were much the same. She tumbled, falling in a weightless void. There was no sight, no sound, no sense of direction, or even of up and down. She had no concept of where she’d entered or where she had been going. She was lost.

Pain started as a slight discomfort which grew as the moments passed, burning through her protections as if they were a paper shell. She opened her mind to the Sight in hopes of getting her bearings. As she did, it blinded her, like staring directly into the sun. She made out vague forms obscured by furious brilliance, but nothing that resembled her path out of the Crossroads. Besides shadows of less-painfully brilliant clouds swirling in the nothingness, a cacophony of sounds assaulted her, bypassing her physical ears. Thoughts and images that were not her own invaded her mind, as if she were experiencing a thousand dreams at once.

She fought to shut off the Sight, but it was impossible. Covering her head with her arms and clenching her eyes closed did nothing. The pain increased, and her eyes stung. As she gasped, her lungs filled with liquid fire, burning her from the inside out. A moth that had flown into the heart of the flame, she screamed as agony raged through her body, but no sound came.

Somewhere in the mental din she heard voices. They were more clear than most, and she latched onto them, as tiny threads of sanity, although she didn’t fully understand what they said.

A man’s voice said, “What was she thinking, coming here without an amulet? She cannot survive long without it.”

A woman spoke next, her voice cool and melodic. “None of us survived long with one, either.”

“Long enough to accomplish our task,” the first voice said.

Another woman, with a thicker West Virginia accent than any that Jenny had heard so far, said, “I reckon she’s one o’ mine. What brought the poor child out here?”

The first woman answered, “She is dying and will join us soon. Perhaps we will be able to ask what is left of her.”

This was dying. Jenny had accidentally chosen an excruciating way to do it. At least she wasn’t killing anyone else with her stupidity this time. Unless someone else came for her…

No! She had to warn them so nobody else would try to come after her. Could she still tell Lisbet? Was the connection still active? Could the Warden hear her from here?

Jenny concentrated on Lisbet and cried out, but her voice was mute. However, through the pain and din, she heard Lisbet’s echoing voice. Like a drowning woman desperately grabbing at the flimsiest of holds, she flailed and propelled herself through the fiery expanse of nothing toward the voice.

“She has a tether!” the man’s voice said.

“She’s too badly hurt. She won’t survive even if she makes it out,” the first woman said.

“Don’t count her out, ‘specially if she’s got help on the other side,” the second woman said. “She’s a fighter, that one.”

“A fighter? Or just foolhardy and stubborn?” the man asked.

“Ain’t no difference. She might be our chance.”

While Jenny could not perceive any movement, Lisbet’s voice grew clearer, until it seemed to be only inches away. Jenny couldn’t draw any closer. Hot tears burned on her cheeks, barely noticeable in the background of agony. Why couldn’t she get closer? What was stopping her?

In a moment of clarity, she remembered the trick to it. While it was possible to stumble through the Crossroads on accident, especially if one didn’t have a particular destination in mind, it usually took focus. Finding the infinitesimally tiny point would have been impossible without Lisbet’s guiding voice, and Jenny could barely focus. She felt her strength ebbing, overwhelmed by the promise of death’s release from the burning, but she refused to give up so very close to escape. She fought, allowing the pain to focus her concentration. She forced her eyes open, although it made little difference. Searching with the Sight she could no longer turn off, she spotted the tiny pinhole of subtle shadow in the brilliance. With all of her remaining strength, she pushed herself through.

“She’s going to make it!” One of the voices exclaimed.

“Quick, send our memories with her! They need to know!”

If anything else happened, she was in too much pain to notice. The pinhole expanded, swallowing her as she plummeted into it.

The heat, light, and chaos faded, but the agony remained. People surrounded her, their presence clear with the Sight, filled with subtle colors. The pain remained a constant, and the last surge of strength ebbed. A voice—Owen’s?—asked, “Is that her?” Why couldn’t he recognize her? Perhaps it was dark, although everything seemed dim compared to the world between the worlds.

Annie’s voice was like music. “Of course it’s her. Help me before we lose her!”

For some reason, on this alien world, surrounded by people she’d only met over the last few months, Jenny felt at home. She let the cool embrace of silence and the bliss of unconsciousness take her.

Fighting her instinct to flee, Jessabelle got into the passenger side of Gabriel’s car. She watched him cautiously, but he made no move toward her as he put on his safety belt and started the car. She kept her hand next to the button on her seatbelt in case she had to make a quick escape as he drove them out of the parking garage.

To her surprise, once they emerged from the garage, he parked the car at the side of the road and checked his phone. She leaned sideways to look at it over his shoulder. “You best not be telling anyone I’m here,” she said, only half joking.

He twisted the phone toward her to show her the screen more clearly. She had no idea what he was looking at, but it didn’t seem to have her name or a message to the Coven on it. “I’m following up on some information we found in Elise’s cubicle.”

“What did you find?”

“Are you getting out now, or coming with me?”

Jessabelle crossed her arms over her seatbelt. “I’m coming with you.”

Gabriel set his phone in a cup holder. “Then I’ll tell you as we drive.” He flashed her a grin as he started down the road toward the interstate, and for a brief moment Jessabelle felt at ease. It didn’t last long, and she silently chided herself for letting her guard down. Perhaps Gabriel wasn’t a big threat, but he was certainly dangerous. Jessabelle reminded herself of the day in the hospital, with Gabriel so smug and sure of himself, as if he’d captured her single-handedly. She tried to imagine him with warts and a misshapen face. It was easier to think of him as a danger if he looked like an ogre and not a model from the cover of a magazine.

“They told me you were no longer in the country,” he said as he drove.

“Where did they say I’d gone?”

He glanced sideways at her. “They didn’t. They just that you were gone, and we shouldn’t bother looking for you anymore. We had Leon.”

“Oh. Lucky me.”

“We don’t have Leon anymore, as far as I know. And now here you are.”

“And I have fangs.”

Gabriel snorted. “Are you saying you’ll bite me?”

“I don’t want to, but I’ve had to do a lot of things I didn’t want to since y’all captured me.”

He chuckled. “You do have fangs. I think I like it.”

Jessabelle frowned at his tone. She was deadly serious, and he was treating it like a joke. Did he think she wouldn’t tear his throat out if he betrayed her? Well, okay, no, she probably wouldn’t. She’d definitely give him some painful scars to remember her by, but he was just making light of it. She felt her anger rising. It dawned on her that he was manipulating her and trying to push her buttons and make her defensive. It only increased her anger.

She had to keep things under control. She was Jessabelle Rose, international super-spy, and she was in charge. She hung out with very important people, had escaped the inescapable prison, helped stop a team of deadly commandos, battled terrible monsters, and had even fought in a war! Gabriel had no idea who he was dealing with, and she was not going to let him get under her skin. Taking a deep breath, she calmed down, and even smiled a little. “So why are y’all after Elise anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, slowing down at a red light. He squirmed under her questioning. Well, she imagined him squirming, anyway. He was very, very good at being rock-solid and appearing cool.

“Why not? You didn’t ask?” She wasn’t imagining it. Underneath it all, he was sweating. She didn’t need animal senses to tell that. “You just took it at their word that now y’all were supposed to hunt her down or something? What happened?”

“We captured Leon. He was transferred to an undisclosed location, along with several of our security people. A few weeks later, they mothballed our installation here. I don’t know why. I was sent to Branton, along with Elise and about half of the staff.”

They took the ramp onto the interstate. She tried to keep a mental picture of where they were going, because it might be important when making an escape later. “You’ve been living in Branton this whole time?”

He nodded. “We thought we were only going to be helping out the operation there for a few days, because things were wrapping up. That’s how everyone talked. Then one day, the timetable changed, and nobody said why, and we’ve been stuck in Branton for two months. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Jessabelle, still trying out this international super-spy thing on for size, shrugged with one shoulder. “How should I know? I was out of the country, remember?”

He laughed and shrugged. “I thought we were going to help each other find Elise.”

“We are. Are you from West Virginia? This state is my home. I kind of know the area.”

“How much of it do you know outside of Maple Bend?” he asked, calling her bluff. When she didn’t answer, he grinned at her. “I’ve spent a bit of time in Maple Bend now, too. I’ve even seen your house.”

Jessabelle made a face. “Was that supposed to sound anything but creepy? If so, you failed.” He didn’t respond, so she rolled her eyes and asked, “So when did Elise leave?”

“About a week ago. I admit I was a little bit jealous. In spite of having no magical ability whatsoever, she was getting a lot more face-time with the big boss than I was.”

“The boss? You mean the Man in the White Suit?”

“Of course, Thadeus. Anyway, we’re staying in a row of trailers the Coven brought into Branton. Elise was only two trailers down from me.”

“Are you trying to tell me you became close friends?”

“Hah! If only. We didn’t talk much—I don’t think she talked much to anyone. But a few days ago, she was more quiet than usual. Now I can look back and tell that something had spooked her. The next day, she was gone, and we didn’t even realize it for almost twenty-four hours. When the boss found out, he was furious. He didn’t say what happened, at least not that anyone would tell me. He demanded she be found, and we scrambled. I got pulled off my assignments there and tasked with finding her.”

“So why were you searching for her here?”

“When they moved us to Branton, we thought this was a short visit, so we hadn’t cleaned out our cubicles. I hoped I’d find something useful that might suggest where she went.”

“Did you?”

“Maybe. We found a couple of references to a friend of hers named Kendra Fields. Elise knew better than to contact her family, but if she thought we wouldn’t know about Kendra, maybe she said something.”

Jessabelle narrowed her eyes at Gabriel. “Wait. Why shouldn’t she contact her family? Are you spying on them?”

“Of course. It’s standard procedure. Elise knows that. By not contacting them, she knows we can’t threaten them to force her to come out of hiding.”

Jessabelle shook her head. “That’s something you would actually do, and it ain’t never occurred to you that you are working for the bad guys?”

“We have an important job. It sometimes requires that we be a little ruthless.”

“You say that, but you are surprised the Man in the White Suit would murder any of y’all in cold blood?”

He paused for a long time before answering, “I don’t know.” He said nothing more for the duration of the drive.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when they reached Kendra’s home. The little house was nestled in a hollow among several other small homes on rocky properties with a front lawn that only grew in patches. Trees obscured the dirt driveway until they were almost past it. An old blue Ford Focus sat at the end of the driveway, polka-dotted with dents and spots of flaking paint. A single, bare light illuminated the front porch. The house number was not immediately apparent in the dark, but the voice in the GPS system on Gabriel’s phone insisted that they had reached their destination.

Gabriel rolled slowly past the house, and kept rolling. Jessabelle asked, “What are you doing?”

He inclined his head forward. “There are a bunch of trees a short distance ahead that will conceal the car from their windows.”

Jessabelle shook her head. “Huh-uh! No. We ain’t sneaking up on anybody. We ain’t here to capture anyone.”

“If Elise is there, she’ll bolt the second I get out of the car, and we don’t have backup to cover the other exits.”

“What part of ‘we ain’t capturing anybody’ don’t you understand? We don’t need backup.” Jessabelle scowled. She thought again of Gabriel’s smug, calm expression in the hospital cafeteria in July, knowing that his people had every exit covered and that Jessabelle had no way to escape. “We’re the good guys, Gabriel. You ought to try it. We’re just here to ask questions.”

“This is stupid. Okay, you win.” He threw the car into reverse, and drove backwards up the long dirt path until he parked just behind the Focus. “Happy?” he asked.

“You are so weird.”

He pointed at the house. “Now your side is facing the house. If anyone is watching, they’ll see you get out of the car first, instead of me. Maybe they won’t run.”

She shook her head and sighed, and got out of the car. Gabriel followed a short distance behind her, turning his head away from the light and looking down at his feet. As Jessabelle approached the door, anxiety hit, and her fantasies about being a super-spy fled. Who was this person? What would she say? Was Jessabelle really bringing more danger to Elise? This had all been a mistake. She shouldn’t have come out here at all. Four months of intense near-death experiences still hadn’t been enough to change her habits. Why was this so hard? Why did it suddenly sound easier to face enemy soldiers than to talk to a stranger?

Gabriel stood to the side, just close enough to whisper, “Do you need me to knock on the door for you?”

She flashed him a glare and knocked. Too late now—she was committed.

The door opened suddenly. The middle-aged woman in the pajamas and bathrobe opened the door for Jessabelle with her left hand, holding her right hand behind her back. The house was dark. “What the hell do you want?”

Jessabelle swallowed. “Um, ma’am? Sorry to bother you. Are you Kendra Fields?”

“Who is asking?”

“I’m actually looking for a friend named Elise. I thought she might know you.”

Kendra’s eyes narrowed. “Elise? My late husband’s niece was named Elise, but I ain’t heard from her in months.”

“In case you do hear from her again, could you let her know I came asking for her?”

“I s’pose so, but like I said, I ain’t heard from her in a long time. But just in case, who can I say asked for her? And how does she know you?”

“We only knew each other for a few days earlier this summer. We met at her job. My name is…”

Elise’s voice came from somewhere in the darkened house behind Kendra. “Jessabelle? I can’t believe it’s you!”

Jack didn’t answer the Man in the White Suit, as his mind reeled from confusion and horror. This slightly pudgy and balding Colonel Sanders had grown into the embodiment of all of Jack’s fears. No giant, no ogre, no snallygaster, no army held as much dread as this immortal entity who looked like somebody’s doting grandpa.

In spite of his fear, his mind raced to figure out how he could keep Delcina and Zeke safe. Would the Man in the White Suit accept some kind of trade? There was nothing Jack could offer that wouldn’t violate his principles. Delcina and Zeke would rather die than do anything to assist their ancient enemy. Bizarrely, there was an inevitability in realizing that his life could now be measured in seconds that was a little bit calming. He’d experienced it several times before. It was something to counteract his sheer terror, at least.

“I’m sorry?” Delcina asked, masking her accent quite credibly. She didn’t sound entirely native, but her accent was as neutral as anything Jack had heard on television.

Thadeus chuckled. “It’s alright. I understand you young people have feelings you need to express, and I’m just a little old-fashioned. More than a little, I s’pose. Don’t mind me.” With that, he turned and walked a short distance away, gazing out toward the mountain slopes visible on this edge of town. His companion, a woman in her fifties with graying roots in her brown hair that he’d called Cheryl, stood beside and a little behind him, looking confused.

Delcina grinned impishly, dipped her head down, and grabbed hold of Jack’s hand. When Jack didn’t respond in kind, she looked at him curiously.

For his part, Jack tried to understand what was happening. It dawned on him only slowly. Delcina and Zeke didn’t know Thadeus. Thadeus didn’t recognize any of them. Jack had slipped away before the cameras and reporters had showed up when they’d defeated the ogre in June. He’d secretly spied on Thadeus and Evelyn, remaining hidden in the woods during their discussion. He’d been gone ever since. He wasn’t a witch, or a shape-changer, or able to see ghosts. As far as Thadeus was concerned, Jack was a nobody. That was why he had been the natural choice to investigate, wasn’t it?

Now he was the only one who knew who everybody was. Not that it prevented Thadeus from arbitrarily killing everyone, but even in his barely suppressed terror, Jack knew that wasn’t likely. The Man in the White Suit might kill in the heat of anger, or to teach people a lesson, or to remove an impediment. But he wasn’t the kind to indiscriminately murder people at random, was he? Probably not. So long as he just walked on, doing his thing, they might be okay.

Thadeus turned to face them. “Tell me, are y’all from around here?”

Delcina’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. In a few moments, she’d probably come up with an answer that was vague and plausible, but quite possibly give them away. Jack was terrible at lying, even if he felt no moral compunction about trying to deceive the man who might as well be the Devil himself. Before Delcina could answer, Jack said, “I grew up not far from here, sir. Why?”

“Not far? Where?” Did he know? Jack felt his heart racing even faster. Thadeus noted his distress saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jack said. Well, maybe that was a lie, but whatever. “I have family in Maple Bend.”

Thadeus’s left eyebrow raised. “Oh, I know some people in Maple Bend. Have you been there recently?”

“Not that recently, sir.” Truth! “I ain’t talked to anybody there in months.”

“No? In spite of the news?”

Jack shrugged. “I only saw some news about it the other day. I ain’t been able to watch much TV lately.”

Thadeus raised both of his eyebrows, and glanced at Delcina. She half-smiled. Thadeus chortled and shook his head. “Well, I s’pose I can see why. I was just wondering what people were saying, was all.”

Jack took in a deep breath. Tiny bubbles of courage rose somewhere inside his gut, and he asked, “How about you? Are you from around here?”

Thadeus raised his eyebrows, and pursed his lips for a moment. “Not originally. But I’ve been here often enough that I almost consider myself native. I made plenty of investments in land around here in the past.”

“Oh. Are you here checking on your properties?” This wasn’t the kind of spying or espionage Jack had expected to do, but what better way to get information than just asking the man in charge? So long as his questions sounded innocuous, he should be okay.

“A little. I’m making the rounds, paying respects to some acquaintances and family who have passed on. There’ll be a lot of changes next week, so come Tuesday I might not have much free time.” Behind him the woman’s eyes widened as she listened to Thadeus. She quickly turned to look another way as he continued. “Anyhow, I’ll let y’all get back to…whatever it was y’all were doing. But y’all ought to watch the news next week. Or go on that internet thing young people use these days. Exciting things will be coming out of Maple Bend very soon, mark my words.” He turned again and walked away with a confident stride, the woman rushing to keep up. Jack tried not to look directly at them, staring instead at Delcina’s face and following them out of the corner of his eye.

Delcina waited patiently, staring back into Jack’s eyes with only occasional glances to the side. When Thadeus and Cheryl were well outside of earshot, she said quietly, “I guess it would be silly to ask you if you knew that man. Clearly you did, but he didn’t seem to know you.”

“I’m glad he didn’t.”

Her face grew serious. Jack knew it was just his imagination, but the unique blue in her eyes seemed to crystallize like ice. “The way he talked about Maple Bend…he’s involved, isn’t he? You think he’s involved with our enemies.”

Jack answered with a whisper, “Yeah, you might say that. That there was Hothlurian in the flesh.”

Until now, he’d never seen Delcina truly awe-struck, or terrified. In public, she always seemed in cool, in control, sure of her actions, or at least sure of her intention. In rare private moments she’d allowed him to see her vulnerable, worried, and unsure of herself. Now, however, she was lost. Her beautiful blue eyes darted left and right seeking an answer, her mouth hung open almost comically. “No,” she finally said. “No, that’s not possible. You’re…what did you call it…‘pulling my leg’? He’s not…”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. It’s him. I wouldn’t joke about anything like that.”

Her shoulders sagged. “Of course not. I’m sorry. There’s one thing I should never, ever do, and that is suggest that you are being dishonest. I forgot myself.”

“It’s okay. It’s hard to believe, and I’m pretty used to people assuming I ain’t telling the truth.”

She gazed into his eyes. “Not me, Jack. It should never be me. It never will be again.” She glanced over her shoulder in the direction Thadeus and Cheryl had gone. There was no sign of them now. “I think I’m having trouble convincing myself that it was him.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. It was a scary coincidence. Why was he here? I mean, okay, there ain’t many places to be around these parts, but why would he be in town?”

“That’s not what I meant. Jack, Hothlurian is a legend. The Bogeyman. The Devil. The most dangerous and horrible creature in history. Many of my people no longer believe he existed—that something so monstrous could only be a myth. Yet he was just here making conversation with us, and I was oblivious. He seemed so…so normal.”

“Well, he ain’t.”

“I know that. My… His daughter was bad enough.” Her voice finally caught up to her eyes, crystallizing into ice with the last sentence.

“Yeah. Was. Too bad we can’t kill him the same way. So, what was he talking about, anyway? Paying respects to acquaintances and family? You think maybe he was talking about visiting his daughter’s grave?”

“She wouldn’t have a grave, of course.”

“Do you think part of her might still be near the Crossroads? Like she might haunt it?”

Delcina shrugged. “I’m the wrong person to ask. I know nothing about ghosts. Perhaps you should ask Sean, or even Debbie.”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think he’d be payin’ his respects like he said, though. What’s he doing?”

Delcina partially covered her mouth with her hands in praying shape. She closed her eyes, thinking. When she opened them again, she said, “The woman seemed surprised he’d said anything about next week. What was that about?”

“He’s got something planned up there. They ain’t waiting for a road to do it, neither. Dang, I wish we had Leon with us. He might could follow them all commando-like.”

“Or he might be recognized.”

Zeke cleared his throat as he approached them. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“We were just talking,” Delcina said.

“Yeah. I saw that.” He sounded a little disappointed. “I saw you talking to an old couple. Were they friends of yours, Jack?”

Jack shook his head vehemently. “Um, nope. Definitely not.” Delcina’s snicker had a fearful edge to it. “Did you overhear anything they said?”

“No, they weren’t talking. They just walked past me without saying anything. I was suspicious, but they weren’t armed. They didn’t seem like a threat, but I’m guessing from the way you are looking at me that they were a danger. Should I have stopped them, Your Highness?”

Delcina shook her head. “No. You did exactly what you should have done. You would not have been able to stop them.”

* * *

Cody Flowers met them on his front porch, and didn’t invite them in. He didn’t resemble Mason much. He’d filled out a little bit since high school, a product of physical labor matched with plentiful food. Jack tried to make idle chat and ask about Cody’s life since high school, but Cody didn’t have much to say. The bulk of his side of the conversation consisted of the words, “fine,” “alright,” and “pretty good.” He didn’t have anything to ask Jack in return. While Cody hadn’t seemed to have gone along with his cousin’s bullying back in school, it was also clear he barely knew Jack existed.

Finally, Jack asked about how things were back in Maple Bend and Branton. Cody shrugged. “I ain’t heard much. I’m just working on the new road to Branton.”

“What’s this about a new road?”

“Oh, yeah, the last couple of months. If you were near here, you mighta heard that blasting. They got a huge crew working on the road from Branton and Maple Bend, widening and extending it a ways.”

“Extending it to where?”

Cody shook his head. “I ain’t supposed to talk about it. I’m supposed to direct anyone to my foreman. They even gave us a number to call if people started asking too many questions.”

“Are you going to call them on us?” Jack asked.

“Naw. I won’t. But you won’t go talking to the papers or nothing, will you? I could lose my job.”

Jack shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t even know who to talk to.”

“They got some people working all the way up near the national forest putting this road in. And they are building stuff up there. I don’t know what, like a military base or something. The road stops there. Some of the guys started joking around and calling it the ‘road to nowhere’, but then the foremen told them that anybody calling it that would be fired.”

Delcina and Jack looked at each other. Jack asked, “Does the road follow Blood Creek past Maple Bend?”

Cody shrugged. “I ain’t been up there, and they don’t show us anything. Maybe it could. I know it’s headed that way is all, but they got my crew working on things down in Branton. Look, I gotta head inside. Anything else y’all want?”

Delcina asked, “Do you know about any special event happening next week?”

Cody shook his head. “Nope. At the rate they are going, though, I expect the road should be done before winter. I don’t know if they are letting things drain quite right, though, so they’ll probably have to make more repairs in the next year or two. Guess that’s more jobs.”

Jack asked, “You heard from Mason lately?”

Cody opened his front door, halfway to making his exit. “No. Him ‘n me don’t really associate. Anyway, it was nice seeing you again, Jack. And nice meeting y’all.”

Jack nodded. “Thanks. It was good to see you again, Cody.”

Once they returned to the street, Delcina said, “They’re building a road to the portal. And a military base to support a permanent presence.”

Jack nodded. “Sounds kind of like that, I reckon. They were gonna build a highway up by Maple Bend a long time ago. They could just be using the same ol’ plans.”

“With a road, Hothlurian could easily move troops and supplies.”

“Troops? He ain’t got no troops, aside from those commandos that Lisbet ‘n them took out.”

“Are you so sure of that, Jack?”

“Of course. This is America. He ain’t the President.”

“Could he be? Could he control your President? Key members of your government? My world could seem very ripe for the taking for a powerful and advanced country like yours.”

“No. No, we wouldn’t do anything like that.” Jack hesitated, considering. “I mean, I don’t know much about these things, but I don’t think we would.”

Delcina nodded soberly. “I hope you are right. As long as our Wardens can keep the portal sealed, it is unimportant. My worry is if he really does have a means of breaking through.”

Jack shrugged. “Sounds like he’s got something planned, at least. Maybe I could see about getting a job on the road crew.”

“I don’t think there is time if his timetable is correct. We have something to report to Crane.” She hesitated. “Sanguine must be warned. We must prepare ourselves. However…” She didn’t elaborate.

Jack tried to come up with a reasonable excuse for staying, but he couldn’t. She was right. They should return, tell Crane what they knew, and then see if she had other ideas. If he came back to Maple Bend, it would be doubtful Delcina would return with him. Her mention of Sanguine was a reminder of where her duty lay. She was not only a princess, but was the head of an entire nation, albeit one temporarily in exile.

Since Taliel’s defeat, it had been easy to imagine that they were on a vacation with the Wardens, a camping expedition he’d always dreamed about. For a short time, they’d both been able to pretend that she was just a girl. An incredibly beautiful, wonderful girl. But that time was almost at an end. If they survived this, and by some miracle defeated Thadeus, she would go back to her castle and have to get on with the business of ruling a kingdom.

And her business was none of his.

“I reckon so,” Jack said.

“I was wrong about you, Jack,” Delcina said.

“How so?”

“I think you may be cut out for espionage after all.”

Zeke snorted. Delcina glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “You have a comment, Ezekiel?”

“Begging your pardon, Your Highness. But Jack charmed one giant, and talked another into slicing himself in half.”

“That was stupid luck!” Jack said.

Zeke nodded. “I don’t disagree. But no one can deny you are more dangerous with words than with a sword.”

“That’s because I ain’t that good with a sword.”

“I don’t disagree about that, either.”

Elise appeared at the top of the stairway behind Kendra and flipped on the upstairs light. She’d cut her hair and dyed it brown. Her sweat-clothes were jarringly different from the professional clothing and lab coat she’d worn every day in the Coven’s base. Without hearing her voice, Jessabelle might not have recognized her if they passed in the street.

Kendra stepped aside to let Jessabelle in. As she pivoted, Jessabelle caught a glimpse of the revolver Kendra held behind her back. Once upon a time—four months ago, in another lifetime—that would have unsettled her. She supposed that after being shot and nearly killed, not to mention shot at so many times she lost count, she should have that post-trauma-something-or-another. If she did, a woman hiding a revolver wasn’t enough to make it go off. There were far scarier things out there.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Jessabelle answered, stepping toward the stairs. “I’m back.”

Elise didn’t seem sure if she wanted to approach or run. She took a few tentative steps down the stairs, moving to the side so that her shadow didn’t cover Jessabelle. “Susan said that the Coven let you go.”

“Wasn’t quite like that,” Jessabelle said with a shrug. “Actually, it wasn’t at all like that. I wasn’t supposed to escape. They tried to hunt me down. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Elise bit her lip and then nodded. “They told me to play along. They told me it was how things were done, and that if you didn’t try to escape, they’d give you more freedom and start integrating you into the Coven. I begged them to give you more time, but they said the schedule couldn’t be moved. I’m so sorry.”

“Do you believe me about the Coven now?”

She nodded. “They want me dead.”

“Why?”

The left corner of Elise’s mouth rose in a grim half-smile. “I ‘failed’ their test, too. They brought me in to assist with a major project. When I saw what Thadeus and the Coven were really doing in secret, I ran.”

“And that’s why they are after you? Because of what you know?”

“And because of the evidence I took with me before I ran, yes.”

Jessabelle hoped she didn’t sound too eager as she asked, “What did you find out? Do you know what they are planning?”

Elise nodded. “I can’t make sense of it all yet, but I’ll show you.” Her expression darkened. “How did you find me, anyway?”

“I made a truce with Gabriel.” Jessabelle looked behind her. Gabriel was not standing in the doorway. “Damn it, Gabriel!” she shouted.

“I’m still here…” his voice floated back from the porch. He was still lurking off to the side of the door. Of course he was. And Jessabelle had let herself forget about him for several seconds, like an idiot.

Gabriel appeared, hands in the air. Kendra didn’t bother to hide the revolver this time. Gabriel smiled in his friendly, disarming way. “I just didn’t want anyone to shoot first and ask questions later. Hello, Elise. It’s good to see you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Elise turned to Jessabelle. “You shouldn’t have trusted him.”

Jessabelle shrugged. “There wasn’t much to trust or not. He had already discovered Kendra and was coming here, so I just tagged along.”

Gabriel smiled. “She’s not wrong. She’s just the one telling me where to park and how I’m supposed to play nice.”

Kendra frowned, shifting her revolver from behind her back to point toward the floor between her and Gabriel. “The Coven knows, Elise. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“They know who you are,” Gabriel said. “They are not far, but they won’t move until I give them the go-ahead. This is my responsibility.”

Kendra raised the barrel of the revolver a few degrees, still not quite aiming at Gabriel, but making her intention clear. “We can make sure that go-ahead never happens.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Seriously? Do you want to add murder to your troubles?”

Jessabelle raised her hand, her memory conjuring the image of Josie’s painted “death” stone. “Look, can we do this without calling the Coven or shooting each other? Please. Elise, tell us what made you leave. I think Gabriel needs to know, too.”

Elise gripped the handrail of the stairs. “He’s not going to switch sides, Jessabelle.”

“You don’t know that,” Jessabelle said. “I didn’t reckon you would switch sides, either. What changed your mind?”

“They are killing people. In some cases, they are using the monsters they have captured over the years to do the killing. They are building up a small military force in Branton. I have evidence, but not proof. The police don’t believe me, but I think Thadeus has some control over them. I know he is friends with the governor and has a lot of people in Washington DC who owe him favors.”

Gabriel shook his head. “That’s not exactly news, Elise. That’s how we’ve done business at least since Rose took over.” He looked at Jessabelle. “Did you know your aunt was once in charge of the Coven, second to Thadeus? She was the first Inquisitor, back in the 1980s. A witch named Cheryl is the Inquisitor now. I’m on good terms with her…”

Jessabelle wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I heard something about that. Now shut up and let Elise talk.”

“They haven’t been this bad before. Even Cheryl looks like she has some qualms about these orders, but of course she’s still doing it. I’m talking about innocent people, Gabriel. Even members of the Coven. I sent a copy of all the evidence I have to the police and to some news sites, but no one has done anything about it.”

Something buzzed softly in Gabriel’s pocket. Kendra flashed a disgusted look. “You let him keep his cell phone?” she said, her stare directed at Jessabelle. “What kind of idiot are you?” To Gabriel, she said, “Hand it over!” She motioned threateningly with her gun.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen as he handed it to Kendra. “It’s from Tara. I probably need to check in soon.”

Kendra took the phone, but didn’t point the gun very far from Gabriel. “You try and check in, and it will be the last thing you do.”

Jessabelle thought again about the death stone. Things were going to get out of control soon. “Elise, I can get you to a safe place. You and Kendra. At least someplace that I know is safe for now. Do you know what Thadeus is planning?”

“I don’t. I didn’t rate high enough in the pecking order for them to explain anything to me. I have a thumb drive with everything I was able to pull off the server—mostly videos, recordings, a bunch of emails, and some notes. I’ve tried to make sense of it all, but I feel like I only know bits and pieces of the story. I know he recently took an interest in ghosts, including the ghost of his daughter.”

“So she is definitely dead?” Gabriel asked.

Elise nodded. “We don’t know exactly what happened, other than someone named Sean Williams was involved. We didn’t find her body, but Cheryl and the rest of the inner circle seem convinced that she was killed.”

“What does he want with his daughter’s ghost?” Jessabelle asked.

“Maybe you can look over the data and tell me. I hoped the police or the reporters might dig through it and learn something, but maybe they don’t know what to make of it, either. I should warn you, at least one of the videos is really disturbing. Especially for you.”

“Why?”

Gabriel’s phone buzzed in Kendra’s hand. She glanced at the screen, and said, “It’s Tara again. Elise, I don’t think we have much time. We need to get out of here.”

Elise nodded. “We need to go. I keep one of the USBs with the data with me. Jessabelle, where is this safe place?”

“What about him?” Kendra called. “We can’t trust him. He’ll follow us.”

Elise stared at Gabriel. Gabriel said nothing, but his eyes flicked toward the gun in Kendra’s hand. His phone buzzed again.

“Give him the phone,” Jessabelle said. “Gabriel, tell Tara that Elise ain’t here, and you are still searching for her.”

Gabriel shook his head. “It’s too late for that. I messaged Tara when I was out by the porch. She may already be here.”

“Shit. You idiot girl,” Kendra said, glaring at Jessabelle. She pulled the hammer back on her revolver.

“I can still fix this,” Gabriel said. “I’m in charge of this search. I’ll call them off.”

Jessabelle shook her head. “You ain’t in charge. Tara is.”

“You know nothing,” he said with a surprising fury. His expression changed, and became almost pleading. “Look, I’ll call them off and give you all a chance to escape. On one condition.”

Elise raised an eyebrow. Gabriel held out his hand to Kendra, who reluctantly handed his phone back. With his phone in his hand, he asked, “Do you know what happened to Dmitri?”

Elise nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Tell me. And don’t lie.”

“I’m not going to lie. Dmitri caught hell for the hospital operation, where you were supposed to recapture Jessabelle.”

Gabriel shook his head. “It wasn’t his fault. If anything, it was mine. I shouldn’t have tried to talk her into coming with us. We should have just bagged her.”

Jessabelle scowled at Gabriel. “Yeah, in a public place? That would have gone over great. I’d still have escaped.”

“This is not the time, Jessabelle,” Elise said with a scowl. She turned back to Gabriel. “Dmitri was responsible for you, and he was one of the people responsible for the operation. Cheryl replaced him with Tara and assigned him to guard duty at the Maple Bend site. While it was officially just a reassignment, everyone knew it was a punishment.”

“Then the attack happened,” Gabriel said.

“Yes. The attack happened. Everyone fell back. Some regrouped, but others—including Dmitri—got lost and didn’t find their way back until that morning. In the meantime, Thadeus arrived and found out that his daughter had been killed. He was very quiet. I’m told that’s a major warning sign.

“Dmitri returned shortly after dawn, and didn’t even notice that Thadeus was there. Maybe it was embarrassment, but he started shouting at Cheryl and the other alphas, blaming them for failing to warn them all about an attack by ghosts. Thadeus turned and glared at Dmitri from behind. Dmitri was in the middle of his shouting when blood started flowing out of his nose and ears. He choked, fell to the ground, and was dead in seconds.”

“Are you sure it was Thadeus?”

“I’m positive. I was there. I saw the expression on his face. I was afraid he would do the same thing to me, so I did nothing. I’m sorry.”

Gabriel’s stared at Elise and said nothing. The silence was broken by the phone buzzing once again in his hand. He looked down at it, as if trying to determine what the object was. “She is telling me to get out,” he said. He snickered, typed a quick message, and muttered, “I’m out.”

Jessabelle narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“What I will be doing is providing a distraction so that the three of you can escape.” He ignored his phone as it pulsed an alert of a new message. “I’m going to meet them at the porch, and explain that I screwed up. Tara will bitch me out, but it should buy you a few minutes to get a head start.”

Elise raised an eyebrow. “Why are you doing this?”

“It’s no great sacrifice. You told me about Dmitri. I am sure you don’t know the whole situation, but I believe that you told me what you know. That is more than the Coven has done to answer the question in two months. Now, get going. I’ll take the heat and delay them for as long as I can. Just remember that we will be after you, and I will find you. When that happens, remember that I gave you a second chance.”

Elise nodded soberly at him. “Noted. Thank you, Gabriel.”

He grinned. “No problem, Elise. Goodbye, for now.”

Kendra ushered them out through sliding glass door in the back of the house, while Gabriel stepped out through the front door to wait for Tara.

“I don’t trust him,” Jessabelle said.

“Gee, why not?” Kendra grumbled as they reached a steep slope with thicker weeds that formed a natural boundary to her back yard. Kendra led them diagonally across it, making out whatever path there was in the darkness. “There’s a trail up a ways that will lead us over the hill and run into Old Mill Road on the other side. If we follow that a half mile, we can get to Clancy’s house. Maybe I can borrow his truck.”

Elise and Jessabelle followed Kendra’s lead for only a few seconds before they heard Gabriel’s screams. After his third cry, weaker and shorter than the first two, he was silent. A horrible, deep-throated inhuman howl followed. While it was a sound she barely remembered from one terrible day, Jessabelle recognized it from nightmares.

“What has he done?” Kendra gasped.

“I think he just died,” Jessabelle said in a flat voice. She fought off the terrified numbness that threatened to paralyze her. There would be no one to help her or save her this time. “I think that other sound was the Dwayyo.”

“The what?” Kendra asked.

Elise’s response was shocked terror. “No!”

“Y’all keep going,” Jessabelle said. “Just keep running. Find a woman named Josie Ankrum. She lives just a mile northwest of a place called Balemont. She’ll know what to do.”

Kendra waved her revolver in the direction of the house. “No, we can do better than that. I’ll take this thing out, and we all leave together.”

“No. That’s next to useless,” Jessabelle said. Kendra looked at Elise, who nodded frantically.

“What about you?” Elise asked, panic rising in her voice.

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle this thing,” Jessabelle lied. “I’ll buy you some time.”

It was perhaps the seventh time the nightmare had played out. Even in her subconscious state, she realized it was not a simple dream, but her mind coming to grips with the sudden trauma of horrible memories that were not her own. Sometimes her mind lingered on certain details. Sometimes it started later. But it always ended in deadly failure.

She watched through the eyes of a Warden, or someone she assumed to be a Warden. They stood in an uneven forest clearing, along a path that terminated at a pair of rocks set three feet apart. The rocks bore simple charcoal-gray circular marks.

Four others, also dressed in gray robes, surrounded the prisoner. They each wore amulets engraved with elaborate loops and curls. While the amulets were not magical themselves, they’d been formed by precise magic to redirect and absorb phenomenal energies long enough for the Wardens to finish their grim task. Jenny didn’t know how she understood the nature of the amulets, but recognized their importance.

The prisoner only vaguely resembled Thadeus, at least as far as Jenny remembered from her brief, terrifying encounter with him. This man—or creature—was younger and more deliberately imposing. This was not the pudgy, grandfatherly disguise of a being in hiding, but a hard-edged general who commanded respect and obedience. Even bound in manacles and chains, he bore an overwhelming presence, and sneered as if his victory was assured.

Several other warriors, presumably Wardens, stood along the path, all ready with swords drawn and spears angled toward the prisoner. The ones standing in the path behind them stepped to the side to allow a newcomer through.

A dwarf—more properly, a Dogwood Clansman—approached the group. Every time the dream played out, Jenny tried to scream out a warning, but she was only a passive observer here, hiding behind the eyes of a man who had been dead for centuries. The Wardens stepped aside to allow him to stand before the prisoner. The creature wore a human face like a painted rubber mask. He grabbed the chains between the prisoner’s wrists and stared with a fiery intensity, and began to chant. His lips moved mostly in synch with the strange syllables he intoned, but they curled and twisted in unusual ways, like a child making faces in front of a mirror. When he was done, his eyes swept over the bindings in one last inspection, and he let them drop.

“It is done,” the creature said. “I have reinforced the bonds. They should hold him until the end.”

“We thank you, Zainus,” one of the Wardens, the leader of the robed group, said. “Without the help of your people, this would not have been possible.”

“No thanks are necessary,” the dwarf replied. “The Dogwood Clan has allied with humankind against a common enemy, and now we share a victory together. The Clan wished me to express their gratitude and indebtedness to those who have sacrificed so much for this moment, and to those who will sacrifice yet more to put it all to an end forever.”

Two of the Wardens standing beside the prisoner shuffled uncomfortably. The original speaker nodded and said, “Please convey our gratitude to your Clan, Zainus.”

Zainus nodded, turned, and walked away without a backward glance down the forest path. Once he was out of sight, the Warden whose senses Jenny shared said, “Well, I guess this is it.”

The leader nodded solemnly. “No sense delaying the inevitable. Let’s rid the world of this filth forever.”

The prisoner spoke. He lacked the silky-smooth southern-gentleman accent of Thadeus, but the vocal quality was the same. “This is your last chance,” he said just loudly enough that only the robed group could hear him clearly. “You don’t need to die. You will merely be inconveniencing me, delaying the inevitable. Let me free, and you will be my right hand.”

“Not a chance,” Jenny’s Warden responded. “We’re taking a one-way portal into the Hell you came from, and barring the door.”

“That is enough,” the leader said. “Let’s go”

As a group, the Wardens passed between the two stones, winking out of existence as they walked, forcing Hothlurian between them. Jenny derived some small satisfaction seeing the stricken look on Hothlurian’s face.

Jenny’s Warden took up the rear, the last to enter the portal. He hesitated a split second. Inexplicably, she felt the Warden’s shame at his moment of weakness, the moment he wondered if his sacrifice was really necessary. She couldn’t blame him.

He stepped through, into the terrible world of light and heat, multicolored ribbons of fire. He fought every urge to let the current take him through the one-way path to the unknown Darklands beyond. Jenny felt his emotions, bound as strongly with this memory as the vision before him.

The others floated in the insanity, Hothlurian bound and screaming beside them. Their amulets glowed, protecting them, if only for a few crucial seconds. Meanwhile, Hothlurian screamed as tendrils of light and color stretched out from the expanse beyond and ripped at his flesh, reclaiming their own.

“We just have to wait as long as we can,” one of the Wardens cried out. “The manacles will keep him here. We don’t need to destroy the gate and die here. We could just seal it from the other side, if we need to.”

The leader shouted back. “We all discussed this. We agreed to it. It is the only way to be certain.”

“But he’s done for,” the first Warden said. “Isn’t it better to live trapped in the Darklands than to die trapped in this one?”

The leader shook his head. “Go if you must. We’ll finish this without you. We’ve wasted too much time as it is. The amulets will only last a few more seconds.”

The protesting Warden bowed his head, and joined the group. They began their chant, the last spell that would destroy the exit at the other side of the stream.

The chains holding the prisoner shattered, and Hothlurian’s screams turned to laughter, even as the bright threads continued to tear into him. “Fools!” he cried as he plunged, bloody and scorched, into the stream of light passing between worlds. The tendrils held fast, and for several moments it seemed that they would hold him suspended in the stream. Gradually at first, but then with building speed, the stream took him. Pieces of him broke off, with an entire arm and then a foot held back by the ropes that sought him out.

The Warden’s expressions were panicked, but their voices never wavered. Jenny saw Hothlurian reach the other side just as the spell reached its crescendo, a skeletal form flaking off pieces at an increasing rate. The figure vanished moments before the stream did at the end of the spell.

“Did we shut it in time?” Jenny’s Warden asked.

The leader shook his head. “We failed. He escaped.”

The Warden who had protested cried out, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” the leader said. “We were betrayed. At least he is trapped in the Darklands. Our world is safe. Thank you, my friends.”

One by one, their glowing amulets failed. Unlike Hothlurian, there were no threads taking them apart, actively seeking to hold them. They did not belong here. There was only the heat and pain.

The nightmare, and the memory, ended there, only to start over again.

* * *

She awakened, and screamed as pain threatened to consume her. Someone put cold, wet cloth over her eyes, and someone else chanted nearby. Jenny could see the bustle of movement through wet cloths covering her face, and more importantly see the bands of electric blue magic as they struck her. Where they touched, her body relaxed and the pain faded.

Regaining her concentration, Jenny focused on what was around her. The cloths were nearly transparent. To her left, Owen worked the most magic, electric blue flowing from him like…

…Like the streams of fire in her dream. She shuddered, and the shuddering took on a life of its own.

Lisbet stood to her right, and touched her right shoulder. The shuddering stopped, replaced by a pleasantly numb sensation. Jenny spoke, but her tongue moved sluggishly in her mouth. And it hurt. “Thank you, Lisbet,” she said.

“Don’t talk right now, Jenny,” Lisbet answered. Her face glowed a darker blue of magic, something Jenny had never seen before. There was genuine concern in her voice. Voices buzzed around her, as if she was the center of attention and discussion for a large audience. While she’d sometimes fantasized about that, it was as uncomfortable as the physical irritation.

As she focused on the woman at the foot of the bed, also wrapped in the glow of magical energy, Jenny gasped. She knew that face.

“Mommy…?” Jenny said, and raised her hand.

Patricia Morgan circled around the bed, and gingerly took her hand. Her smile was more than just touched by sadness. “No, sweetheart. It’s me. Grandma Annie.”

“Grandma? How…?” As Jenny peered at the woman, her vision clearing, the differences grew more pronounced. The woman was still too young to be Annie, and the resemblance was striking. “What happened to you? You look different!” Her tongue still hurt, but she gained more control of it by the moment.

The three witches looked at each other, their expressions filled with concern and confusion. Owen seemed older, perhaps in his mid-twenties. “How long was I asleep?”

“Should we go into this now?” Lisbet asked. “You said…”

Owen shrugged. “She’s awake. If her pain is manageable, and she’s talking coherently, then I guess we can do this now.”

“Y’all don’t want her mad at us for keeping her in the…for not answering her questions,” Annie said. Looking down at Jenny and using both of her hands to hold Jenny’s, she asked, “How are you feeling, sweetheart? You screamed a moment ago. You still hurtin’?”

It hurt to nod. It hurt to talk, too, but not as much. “A little. Whatever Lisbet is doing is working.”

Lisbet shook her head. “I think Owen’s drugs might be more to thank than me. But I did learn this trick to help block pain early in my career. It has proven useful on far too many occasions.”

Jenny tried to smile. It might have worked. “I feel bad taking up your time. The three of you are so busy with important things.”

“Right now you are our most important thing, sweetheart,” Annie said. Tears fell down her face, unblocked by wrinkles.

“I’d like a drink of water,” Jenny said. “If that’s okay.”

“Right away!” Annie said, and she motioned to a young woman that Jenny didn’t recognize.

“I don’t want to be rude, but all the other talking is getting to me.”

Lisbet lowered her head. “All the other…?” She shook her head, and glanced around the tent. “We’ll keep it down.”

A young woman brought a tin cup filled with water. Owen helped Jenny lift herself to a sitting position to drink. “Just take small sips,” he advised the moment before she gulped the entire contents of the cup. It felt wonderfully ice-cold going down, soothing her radiating insides. She wanted to dive into a pool to cool her hot skin as well.

“How long have I been asleep?” Jenny asked in the infinitely long wait between sips of a second cup.

“About a day and a half,” Owen said. “And before that…” He looked at Lisbet.

Lisbet’s voice calmed her. “You were between worlds for about an hour,” she said. “When you finally made it out, you were grievously injured. Even with our combined effort, we were doubtful you would survive.”

“She was,” Annie said. “I wasn’t. I knew what a fighter you are.”

“It wasn’t just our efforts,” Owen said. “All things considered, even with magic, your healing is nothing short of remarkable. More than remarkable.”

“I guess that’s good.” Jenny wasn’t sure what they meant, as she didn’t remember healing herself, but she felt tired again. Owen’s drugs were probably contributing to a lack of caring about whatever trauma she had undergone. She’d fall back asleep soon. Sleep was good, so long as Thadeus didn’t invade her dreams again. Both thirst and more questions gnawed her into remaining consciousness. “Owen, how come you look so much older? And Grandma, how did you get looking so much younger?”

There was no answer but a lingering silence. Finally, Annie asked, “Jenny, what do you see?”

“Well, for one thing, I can’t turn off the Sight,” Jenny said. “I’m seeing magic everywhere I look. Has that ever happened to any of you before?”

They looked at each other again. Annie shook her head. “I don’t think so. What else do you see?”

Jenny focused on her grandmother. Another ache compounded on her physical discomfort. “You look like Mom.” Now that she could see clearly, the differences were obvious, but that initial impression and the wave of sadness wouldn’t fade. “You dyed your hair, so there’s no more gray. And Owen, you look about ten years older.” Probably more, based on the differences in age on this side, but she didn’t feel like going into that.

“Sweetie, can you see where you are?”

Jenny looked around. “I’m in the medical tent.” She glanced around. “There are three other people here. Another patient?”

Owen nodded. “One of the Wardens broke her arm this morning.”

Jenny recognized a woman sitting on a cot twenty feet away. “Vena. Yeah. Is she going to be alright?”

Owen’s jaw dropped, but he nodded. “Yes. Yes, she’ll be fine, Jenny.”

“I don’t understand,” Lisbet said.

“Don’t understand what?” Jenny asked. She started to worry, the only thing keeping her awake with the sudden rush of fatigue. “What’s going on?”

“You were badly burned,” Owen said. “Your eyes were…”

“Your eyes are covered with bandages,” Annie interrupted. “You shouldn’t be able to see anything.”

Jenny reached with her free hand toward her eyes, but Owen caught her hand. “No, don’t touch the bandages right now.”

“It must be the Sight,” Annie said. “You said you couldn’t turn off the Sight. That’s how you are seeing everything right now.”

“Oh,” Jenny said. She had a lot more questions, but they could wait. That was enough to sleep on. “That’s good then, right?”

Owen gently moved her hand back to the cot. “Yes, Jenny. It’s unheard of, so we’re all pretty surprised by it. But it is absolutely a good thing. You should go back to sleep now. Do you need another drink, first?”

Jenny started to nod, but fatigue overpowered her thirst. Owen helped her lay back down. Pain fought through her sluggishness, but it wasn’t enough to stop sleep from coming. “Thank you, Owen. Everyone. Good drugs…” She felt herself drifting.

“What happened to her in there?” Lisbet asked Annie. “We still don’t know how or what happened. Or if it could happen again.”

“She’ll answer the questions later. We have time,” Annie said.

“I’m not too certain of that.” Lisbet responded. The conversation continued, but it was all background noise to Jenny. In spite of the dull pain all over her body, she felt the soothing blanket of sleep drop over her.

This time, she had no dreams that she could recall, but the constant background noise of conversations never receded. It wasn’t enough to stop her from sleeping, but it intruded constantly. Sometimes she’d awaken enough to ask for more water, not fully gaining consciousness, and the voices were still there. At some point, before she drifted back into oblivion, she half-consciously realized that the voices were not having conversations with each other around her. They were all trying to speak to her.

Jessabelle didn’t have a prayer of beating the Dwayyo, no matter which form she took. Even survival was unlikely, but it was flat-out impossible if she faced it as the girl.

As she transformed into Jessabelle-the-Panther, her feline instincts came to the forefront. She became aware of the sound of two car engines running not too far down the road. One was larger, the diesel engine of a truck. She guessed it was the truck that brought the Dwayyo. The sounds of claws tearing through structure became clear, as the monster obeyed the commands it had been given.

There was something else that her senses perceived, something new. At an instinctive level, she knew she must run. The panther felt a presence, and was nearly overwhelmed by a primal fear. Here, now, she was prey. There was something else to it, as well. Something whispered inside her head, something far more than a warning. It felt like a cry of pain and fury, but at low volume on a channel full of static.

She should run. As the panther, she could escape if she left right now and took off. It would not pursue her. She might even be able to outrun it if it did. She felt its presence before seeing it. She knew exactly where it was.

Likewise, she instinctively felt like it knew exactly where she was. She wanted to chalk that up to her imagination, but that wasn’t it. It was like being in the dark, and feeling someone’s breath on your skin. It wasn’t something she felt as the girl, but as the panther, it was subtle but undeniable. The panther harbored no illusions about which of them was the predator and which was the prey. Every instinct, both human and feline, told her to run.

She stood her ground.

The entity approached.

The low-volume howl came through the static more clearly. Buried within was some kind of feeling. No words came to her, but she felt a sense of the creature’s single-minded purpose. Kill the humans, and the pain would stop. She did not count as a human, not in her current form, so it ignored her. All she had to do was stand aside, and she would survive.

It puzzled at her not moving. She felt the creature’s confusion. If she did not move, then it meant that the tiny cat-thing might be a predator after all.

Why did she understand this? None of this made sense.

The beast approached her cautiously, its body hunched. Even in the darkness, Jessabelle-the-Panther could see it more clearly than she had as the girl in July, frantically trying to drive as Leon attacked it through the windows. Aside from the tail, it looked like how Hollywood might envision a giant werewolf—a bipedal canine with teeth like steak knives, its rear legs with bird-like talons to anchor itself into the ground. The most unusual part was the thick bushy tail that seemed almost squirrel-like. Instead of making it look comical, it only made the monster more terrifying.

A leather collar encircled its neck, as it had in July. It was identical to the one Leon wore when he’d tried to kill her. It gave witches the power to implant commands and suggestions very easily, but it wasn’t direct mind control. Whoever controlled the Dwayyo—probably Tara—probably hadn’t meant for it to attack Gabriel. That must have been why she’d told Gabriel to leave.

Without the collar, no longer directed by the Coven, it might forget about Elise. At the very least, it might allow itself to be distracted long enough for Elise to escape. But there was something more to Jessabelle’s hatred of the collar.

The Coven had forced Leon into a collar that made him fight against his allies. Evelyn had used witchcraft to turn Jessabelle against Jack and the truth Jessabelle knew as well as anyone. Taliel had controlled Jenny to force her to betray her own grandmother. Nobody, even this horrible monster, deserved to be a slave to Thadeus and his Coven. Min had suggested the collar had been made using Jessabelle’s own blood to fuel the magic.

Jessabelle wanted the collar destroyed. Forever.

The Dwayyo towered above her, and jerked its head up, peering past her into the darkness where Elise and Kendra had fled. It stepped to the side, ignoring her to continue its pursuit of its quarry.

Jessabelle stepped in front of it again. She wasn’t much of an obstacle—the thing could step over her, and was certainly capable of leaping past her and running as fast as she could. Baring her fangs, hunching down, Jessabelle-the-Panther did her best to make it clear that the only way past her was through her.

The Dwayyo hunched and raised one massive arm, knife-like claws emerging from the blood-matted fur around its paw. It would oblige her.

Jessabelle sprang to the side as the mass of claws swiped through the air, digging tiny trenches in the ground where she’d been standing a split-second before. She reversed direction and sprang again as the second set of claws carved through the air. Its arms flailed as she raced to circle around it. One solid hit, and there wouldn’t be enough left of her to heal. On her end, she doubted her claws would do much more than score a flesh wound.

The Dwayyo paused in its barrage of strikes. It looked to the side, as if listening to something else, paying only half attention to her. Maybe, just maybe, she could score a well-placed hit, and strike its jugular. She coiled—and hesitated.

This thing was cunning. It was probably even intelligent, in its own way. Somehow she was receiving its thoughts or emotions, and it could perhaps read hers. This move, in its simple way, could be an effort to sucker her into an easy counter attack. To test the theory, she faked the attack, stopping her lunge after only an inch of movement and then backing up.

The Dwayyo swung at where she would have been. Its apparent distraction had been a simple feint, and she’d come within a moment of falling for it and being reduced to a spray of blood and meat over the underbrush. There would be no second chances against this thing.

I can’t beat it, she reminded herself. This wasn’t long odds; it was impossible odds. However, she didn’t need to beat it. She just needed to delay it and survive. Her chances weren’t good, but this was at least a possible goal. She just had to figure out how.

Once, she’d seen a duck that had laid eggs under a bush leading a dog away from her eggs. The duck had acted stupid, making itself an easy target, walking away when it could have flown, staying just out of the dog’s easy reach. This kept up for several minutes, until the duck was able to make a full escape and the dog had completely forgotten where it had been searching.

Jessabelle kept her distance, but pulled the same kind of feint the Dwayyo had done. She acted stupid and distracted. The Dwayyo hurled itself into action, its claws once again shredding through brush and earth as she ducked back.

She backed farther away, drawing the monster closer to Kendra’s house and away from where the two women had fled. The Dwayyo sprang, covering most of the distance in a single, impossibly fast move. She dodged, but something struck her tail. She turned and fled back several steps, the Dwayyo howling as it pursued.

She ran until the thing slowed its pace behind her. She slowed, and checked her tail. It bled, but the claw had only scraped it. Meanwhile, the Dwayyo was making its way back up the slope in pursuit of Jessabelle’s friends. Jessabelle launched herself at the Dwayyo, not intending to attack, but forcing it to turn back around and deal with her.

This dance continued three more times. She brought the Dwayyo no closer to the house or to the street, but the Dwayyo hadn’t made progress either. Jessabelle had no idea how long their battle had lasted. It felt like it had been a half-hour or more, but it probably no more than a minute or two had gone by.

The fourth time, the Dwayyo didn’t bother turning when she lunged at it. Jessabelle was no real threat, and it knew it. She felt some sort of emotion coming from the creature again. Contempt? Annoyance? Disgust? But underneath it all, she still felt the pain and the hate.

She lunged again, allowing herself to come closer. Of course, this might be a ruse to lure her in close enough that she couldn’t escape its next blow. The beast growled at her over its shoulder, but didn’t flinch from her false attack.

If she made herself an obvious, easy target, of course it would take the bait and kill her. Why not? But anything short of a committed attack would no longer draw its attention.

She’d succeeded in surviving. But had she delayed it enough? She didn’t think so. If the battle had only lasted two minutes, Elise and Kendra had an almost non-existent head start once the monster started running. It would, any moment.

The buckles on the back of the collar glinted in the moonlight as the creature slowed, coiling its muscles in preparation for a run.

This time, Jessabelle didn’t turn away from her lunge. She charged directly for the monster’s back. Or, more particularly, directly up its back. Her claws dug into the monster’s flesh, but she didn’t want to rip or tear. She needed the grip as she bit into the collar.

Howling and spinning in a circle, the Dwayyo tried to tear her off its back, but its arms didn’t reach that far. While it walked on its back legs, its front arms still suffered a range of motion more limited than a human’s.

As it bucked, Jessabelle clamped her fangs down on the collar, trying both to tear through it and to hold on for dear life. Her teeth felt like they would shatter, and her claws seemed as likely to pull off of her body as out of the monster’s.

The Dwayyo slowed. Perhaps it was another feint, trying to get her to relax her grip, but she felt a sense of the creature’s confusion at her unwillingness to press her advantage for a kill. At this point, she doubted her teeth could tear a hole in the beast’s neck any better than she could tear the collar. They were in a stalemate—at least until it got the bright idea to smash her against a tree or a wall.

A single metal buckle held the collar in place. In human form, if she was not clinging to the collar with the Dwayyo trying to kill her, she could have easily unbuckled it. She chomped and pulled, doing very little to the leather.

The Dwayyo bucked. Her front left paw lost its grip, tearing out flesh. Clawing to regain her grasp, Jessabelle realized she was losing ground. The Dwayyo seemed to realize it as well, renewing its assault. She bit down on the buckle of the collar, not to destroy it, but to give herself a more firm way to hold onto the monster for a few more seconds so she could time her escape. After another jolt, she attempted to regain her grip with her fangs, and she instead bit down on the loop of leather running through the buckle.

Could she strangle it this way? While she still had some strength remaining, she pulled on the outer strap, pushing and straining against the monster. The leather tightened around the creature’s throat, but only incrementally.

It was enough to alarm the Dwayyo, which leaped and whirled with renewed fury and howling. Jessabelle was thrown back, and the strap gave yet more. The creature made a gurgling noise, and then hurled itself backwards to land on its back. The strap of leather yanked painfully out of her mouth, and it was sheer luck she didn’t land underneath he monster.

She rolled to her feet before the creature could right itself and stand on its hind legs. It writhed on the ground for a moment, rocking and twisting. It then roared, finally loosening the collar enough to breathe.

Springing to its feet, it was upon her. She scrambled out of the way, but in their conflict they’d drifted near Kendra’s house, which now hemmed in her exit. With Jessabelle unable to back up, the Dwayyo rocketed forward, swiping the air with both arms to catch her whichever way she dodged. Its talon-like claws hadn’t penetrated her skin, but the force of the blow sent her flying into the aluminum and plastic patio furniture. Jessabelle untangled herself and was back on her feet immediately, but something was wrong. A dull pain shot through her left foreleg. She immediately shifted her weight, favoring the leg.

Her subtle shift wasn’t lost on the Dwayyo. Its eyes narrowed as it glanced at her leg. Jessabelle mentally swore at herself for telegraphing her weakness to the predator. It took a step forward. Jessabelle stepped back, but coiled herself for a pounce. The collar hung loosely around its neck, no longer providing the throat with protection. Perhaps an attack from the front would prove successful.

It reared back, howling, as if taunting her, challenging her to make her attack. She kept her position low, even as the Dwayyo hunched and coiled for a strike of its own.

Leather slipped from its neck and onto the concrete of the patio, the buckle hitting first with a metallic clack. They both looked down at the collar, and back at each other.

Whatever it was that allowed Jessabelle-the-panther to tap into the some of the emotions and thoughts of the Dwayyo dropped. It backed away from her, and she took a careful step away as well. She felt a brief flash of emotion, a spike of fury, but she didn’t feel it was directed at her. As before, it felt like a warning. It turned and sped off in the opposite direction from Kendra and Elise.

Jessabelle changed back into the girl, enjoying the twin relief of having survived and feeling the pain in her arm subside. The world became darker and quieter. She couldn’t even hear the footfalls of the Dwayyo. Wary and weary, she stumbled around the side of the house to check on Gabriel on the slim chance that he might still be alive.

The sight that greeted her threatened to make her retch. Gabriel’s body lay on the threshold, unmoving and torn nearly in half. Blood covered the porch and the front hall where she’d stood only a few minutes earlier. She couldn’t make herself come any closer. She’d seen plenty of death in recent months, but somehow this one made her feel guiltier. Part of her still hated him, and she’d expected him to betray her as soon as he’d gotten the chance. Did that make her partly responsible for his death?

In the distance, a war erupted. Smashing glass, twisting metal, screams, and gunfire met the chilling roar of the Dwayyo.

Over one hundred Wardens marched into the encampment in the early evening. At their head were three officers on horseback, all men with gray beards. The head of the procession focused his attention forward, not visibly glancing to either side. His uniform was adorned with braids of silver and blue. Sean recognized him from description and reputation from his weeks of traveling with the Wardens.

“That would be Chief Warden Ulster,” he said to Debbie, who sat on the edge of a stool that was little more than a section of tree trunk. “He’s the head of all of the Wardens. He’s Lisbet’s boss’s boss.”

“That’s…good, right?” Debbie asked.

“I don’t know. It depends on why he is here and what he’s planning to do.”

The other Wardens didn’t maintain their leader’s tunnel vision. Some pointed discreetly at the path leading to the excavation. More than one pointed discreetly at Debbie, accompanied by suspicious or angry glances by those around them.

“I guess they knew the queen,” Debbie said.

“Maybe. Umm…do you want to go somewhere else?”

Nodding vigorously, she said, “Let’s go check on Jenny.” They moved from their vantage point and took quick, large strides back to the medical tent.

Callan, a soldier who had been badly injured in an early battle against Queen Taliel and brought back from near-death by Jenny’s healing, sat next to her cot. His facial hair covered most of the disfiguring scars from that battle, but some patches of hair had never come in. If he minded, he never mentioned it. He and a young man named Arlan had alternated shifts at Jenny’s side in the two days since the incident. That alone made Sean like the man, but he had a better reason.

When he’d returned from his trip, he’d discovered that many of the Wardens still treated Debbie with distrust, especially those who had fought against the queen’s forces or lost friends in those battles. Callan, on the other hand, treated Debbie as just another victim of the queen’s treachery, like himself.

Sean greeted Callan with a nod, and asked, “So how is Jenny doing? Any change?”

Jenny’s voice floated from the pile of bandages on the cot. “Jenny is on drugs, I think,” she said.

“You’re awake!” Debbie exclaimed, rushing to Jenny’s side. Sean took a more careful approach, steeling himself. He’d seen Jenny many times since the incident, but the first moments were always a shock. Not that Jenny would be able to see his expression, but Callan and Debbie would. He didn’t want to be that guy. He’d get used to it eventually. Jenny would have a much harder time adjusting.

Jenny’s voice was weak, but warm. “I feel like I’ve slept a week.” Her words weren’t enunciated well, but that was to be expected.

Bandages swathed the top of her head, but the lower half of her face was uncovered. The top of the bandage covering where the tip of her nose had been was red at the edges. The blisters were gone, and her burned, cracked lips were healing well. When he’d first seen her when she’d come out of the Crossroads, she had looked almost corpse-like—naked, burned, seemingly shriveled. He hadn’t expected her to live, and had mourned the loss of another friend.

He’d visited her a few times as she slept to check on her. She’d healed at a miraculous rate every time he saw her, but some of the scars might never fade. What’s more, she seemed to glow. Radiate. He believed that had something to do with his Sight, but had no idea what it meant. He’d asked Annie what it was, and she only shook her head and said, “Healing magic, maybe. We really don’t know.”

“Sleep all you want,” Debbie said. “You need your rest.”

“I can’t sleep with all those people talking.”

“What people?”

Jenny turned her head to the side and back, and said, “I can’t see them.”

“Of course not,” Sean said, giving what he thought was courtesy chuckle to a grim joke.

“Oh, the bandages,” Jenny said. “It’s the Sight. I can’t turn it off. When these bandages come off I hope it goes away, or I’ll see double.”

Sean’s voice caught in his throat, and he ran through a dozen different things to say in his head, and rejected every one. As the silence grew awkward, Jenny said, “Everyone’s been acting strange around me when I talk about what I see. And you, I see colors swirling around you.” She took a deep breath and said, “The bandages aren’t the problem, are they?”

Sean shook his head, but then couldn’t figure out if she could see that or not. “No. Your eyes were badly injured. Owen originally thought they were damaged beyond repair, but at the rate you are healing, maybe that’s not true. Maybe you’ll be fine.”

Jenny made a hacking sound. “Yeah, and maybe Thadeus will keel over and die from a sudden heart attack and save us all a lot of trouble.”

Callan snorted.

“I’m really sorry, hon.” Debbie said.

Everyone was silent for a several seconds. Sean wanted to say something, anything, but everything sounded inappropriate in his head. Jenny eventually broke the silence herself. “What have I done? I can’t even cry. Or if I can, I can’t tell.”

Debbie touched her gently on the shoulder. “Give it time, sweetie. Time and magic. Your recovery is already better than anyone could have anticipated.”

While it was hard to tell through the bandages, Jenny seemed comforted by this. In the weeks he had been gone, the two women had formed a friendship. They’d spent more time together than he’d spent with either of them. While he was jealous of the time they’d had together, especially when he’d been out on an almost fruitless search in that time, he was especially glad at this moment that they had a friend in each other.

Sean cleared his throat. “When you are feeling well enough, Lisbet and the others really want to know what went wrong.”

Jenny half-whispered, “It wasn’t an accident.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Sean asked.

Jenny took several breaths before answering. “I wanted to see what the Crossroads really were. What was between the worlds. Just like you said.”

Sean felt his heart sink, thinking of Taft’s explanation. Was her condition his fault? “Were you trying to destroy it?”

Jenny shook her head by tiny degrees. “I wanted to understand it. Did you know it takes us thirty seconds to pass through to the other side?”

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? I mean, I’ve only gone through three times, but it feels instant.”

“I know. I wanted to know what happened in those thirty seconds. I found… I don’t know what I found. But there were people there. In the fire.”

“People? You mean like ghosts? Like the Wardens who closed the gates?”

“Maybe, but not just them. They knew I was there. I heard them talking.”

Debbie asked, “Like the voices you said you are hearing now?”

Jenny looked around. “I don’t know. Do you think they followed me out?”

“No,” Sean said. “At least, not that I can see.”

Jenny rolled onto her side, and then gasped as she sat up. Callan leaped to assist her, and Sean raised his arms to catch her if she were to fall over.

Debbie tilted her head down and stared at Jenny. “What do you think you are doing?”

Through gritted teeth, Jenny said, “I need to get closer and hear what they are saying.”

“The voices?”

“Yes. I can almost hear them.”

Sean said, “Do you need me to tell you this is probably a bad idea?”

Jenny shook her head. “They are going to drive me crazy if I don’t.”

“They might drive you crazy if you do.”

“I’m going.”

Callan took one of her arms. “Then I’m going with you.”

Sean took her other arm, and they helped Jenny up. Hissing as she sucked in air through clenched teeth, she pulled herself to a stand from the cot, leaning heavily on the men as she took wobbly steps forward. The three of them slowly made their way out through the flap of the netting walls, followed by Debbie, and Jenny nodded to indicate direction. Gasps punctuated her ragged breathing.

“Any better?” Debbie asked as they made their way around the tent.

Between breaths, Jenny said, “A little. Farther. Than I thought.”

Sean looked up the trail Jenny motioned them along, leading up the slope to the excavation site. “You realize where we are going, right?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah. You said. Bad idea. Right?”

“Should we turn back?”

“Don’t you dare,” Jenny said with a grunt as she forced one unsteady foot in front of the other. Her bare, scarred legs seemed to glow pink in the evening light where they emerged from her long tunic. Sean couldn’t tell how much of that was a trick of the light and how much was his Sight. He tried not to look as they slowly trudged to the site.

It took nearly twenty minutes to cover the distance that normally took five. Sean expected someone, especially the witches, to come out and stop them out of worry for Jenny’s sake. Every officer was missing, probably gathered with Chief Warden Ulster in the tent that served as Lisbet’s headquarters. When Callan or Sean suggested they stop to let her rest, Jenny refused. She said very little more until they drew close to the excavation site, when she exclaimed between breaths, “Argh! Not English!”

“The voices?” Debbie asked. “What language are they speaking?”

“Don’t know. Closer,” Jenny directed.

Two Wardens stood outside the entrance. Sean didn’t recognize either of them, which wasn’t too surprising given how long he had been away. Their uniforms were augmented with leather brigandines, and their swords were unsheathed and readied. “No one is allowed inside,” one of them said. By his insignia, he was a sergeant. The fresh pink scar down his forehead suggested he’d seen some recent fighting.

“It’s okay,” Sean said. To Jenny, he asked, “Close enough?”

She nodded. As they stepped to one side, Sean said to the guards, “We’re the exceptions.”

“No exceptions,” the younger guard said. He had no hair but for some freshly-shaved stubble on his head. He squinted at Debbie, frowned, and the tip of his sword shifted as he tightened his grip.

“Set me down,” Jenny said. Callan and Sean helped her down onto the grass. She grimaced, but made no further comment.

“You can’t stay here,” the sergeant said. “You need to leave.”

“What’s your name, sergeant?”

“I am Sergeant Housely, Warden of the First Regiment.”

“We’re not leaving,” Sean said. “Check with Lisbet Crane. She’ll tell you.”

“Crane is no longer in charge,” the younger Warden answered.

Housely raised his hand and glanced sideways to silence his companion, then settled his gaze back on Sean. “The four of you must leave. Immediately. Especially her.” He motioned with his chin toward Debbie. “We lost a lot of good people fighting her forces at Sanguine.”

Sean took a step forward, and the two guards shifted into what Sean recognized as a fighting stance. Behind him, Callan shifted as well, his hand drifting across his waist toward the hilt of his sheathed sword. “Taliel is dead,” Sean said. “Debra has lost as much as any of you.” He pointed down toward the encampment. “If you have a problem with it, go get your boss or whoever you think is in charge. We are not leaving.”

The sergeant readied his blade, aiming the point at Sean’s face. “You might believe that Taliel is gone, but we’re not about to take that risk. You may leave on your own, or the lot of you will be leaving on stretchers. Or in boxes.”

Was this worth fighting over? Was it worth getting killed over? Sean was about to back down when Callan drew his blade. Housely’s nostril’s flared, and Sean took a step back, still protectively keeping himself between the Wardens and the women. He raised his empty hands. “Guys, please. Nobody here wants a fight…”

Housely lunged at him, swinging the blade low. Sean dodged, the blade missing his leg by an inch. Based on what Sean had learned about fighting from his weeks with the Wardens, he doubted the attack had been intended to kill. It hadn’t even been intended to hit, although it could have done both. The sergeant had excellent control of his blade, and was trying to intimidate or wound Sean to force compliance.

Callan wasn’t having any of this, and immediately clashed with the Warden with the shaved head. Housely and Sean noted it at the same time, and while they used different swear words, the message was clear. Things were escalating out of control.

Behind him he heard a few of Jenny’s muttered words. Angels. Surround. Protect. It didn’t sound exactly like the protection spells she’d cast months ago. He hoped it did the same thing.

Housely must have heard the same thing, because he called out, “The bandaged one is a witch!” He shifted his attention and took a step past Sean. Sean lowered his shoulders and charged, attempting to body-check the Warden. Housely side-stepped him easily, and punched Sean in the jaw with his free hand.

It might not have been the best shot in the world, but the pain stopped Sean in his tracks. He staggered, and Housely continued toward Jenny. At that moment, Sean saw and felt the faint blueish snap of Jenny’s spell. His Sight was more effective seeing the spirit world than magic, but it was enough. Not knowing if the spell would protect him or not, especially given Jenny’s weakened state, he roared a challenge and charged again.

This time, Housely turned and swung the blade. If Sean’s ear hadn’t still been ringing from the punch, and if he had been careful, he could have dodged the blow. Instead, he flung himself into it. The sword hit his head at full force.

The world exploded, but not like the punch. A blue-white sheet of light erupted around him, and while his brain rattled as if he’d been kicked in the head while wearing a football helmet, it didn’t feel serious. Housely, on the other hand, staggered back while his sword shattered like cheap, thin plastic.

The other Warden hesitated, startled by the sudden turn of events, and Callan took advantage of the distraction to strike the man’s weapon with an unusual flourish, pulling it from the Warden’s grasp so that it fell onto the dirt. As the man turned to grab it again, Callan struck him in the head with the hilt of his sword, sending the Warden sprawling. With elaborate casualness, Callan picked up the fallen sword and brought it to Sean.

Callan rested his own sword on his shoulder, and pointed down the path. “So as my friend Sean was saying a few moments ago before you attacked us, go and get Crane or whoever you think is in charge. Don’t worry, we’ll stand guard until you get back.”

Sergeant Housely shook his head. “I gave you a chance.” To his companion, who was picking himself off the ground, he said, “Let’s go.”

As the Wardens retreated, Sean muttered, “We’re screwed.”

Callan nodded. “Aye. Most likely. They probably won’t execute us, though.”

“What?” Debbie exclaimed. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“In their eyes, we did. This whole thing was stupid…” He glanced down at Jenny. She said nothing, rocking slowly forward and back as she listened to voices no one else could hear. She’d had the presence of mind to defend Sean, but now whatever else was happening in her own little world was of a greater priority.

“You should all go through the gateway, Sean. I’ll delay them as long as I can.”

“No. Both of us will testify that the guards attacked us first. Besides, I don’t want to take Jenny back through the Crossroads after what happened. I’ll just explain that this was all a misunderstanding that just spiraled out of control.” He turned around. “Debbie?”

She faced him somberly. “You want me to go back.”

“I think you’ll be safer there than here. These new Wardens may need some time to be convinced that you are you. Ask Jessabelle if they’ve found out anything yet.”

She drew close. “If it starts looking bad, promise me you’ll grab Jenny and come through. Both of you.”

“Of course. Look, we’ll be fine.” He grinned. “Lisbet won’t let anything happen.”

“Promise!”

“I promise. I’ll head back and let you know what’s going on in a few minutes, okay? I just want to make sure you’re safe, in case we get anyone else who thinks you are Taliel.”

She glanced down. “You don’t think I am, do you?”

He frowned, staring at her. “What? No way.”

“Can you be sure? What if there’s still something of her left inside me?” She glanced over her shoulder at the excavation. “I don’t even know that. I’ve got so many confusing memories—if they are memories at all. Are they mine? What if by going back, her spirit finds me…?”

He touched her cheek, and she turned her head to face him again. He shook his head slowly, looking into her eyes. “If any of us could tell, it would be me. There’s not. You booted her out completely and took back what was yours like a boss. She couldn’t stop you, and now she is gone. I trust you.”

Debbie sighed. “I’m being kind of stupid, aren’t I?”

“No. These are crazy times. It’s not paranoia when they really are out to get you.”

She stuck out her jaw, a little teasingly. “Okay. I believe you.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. Pulling away, she stared into his eyes and her lips curled into a wry grin. “I’m going to split. Don’t get executed.”

“Go on,” he said. “We’ll be behind you in just a few minutes.”

“You’d better.” She turned and scrambled down the slope into the chamber with the Crossroads.

Jenny dragged a stick through the dirt in a strange pattern. Callan glanced up from watching her to where Debbie had vanished, and whistled. “So are you really that optimistic, or were you just telling her that to make sure she stays safe?”

Sean chuckled grimly. “She’s smart. She’d know if I was lying. I think we’ll be okay. The Wardens may be dogmatic, but they aren’t unreasonable.”

“I hope you are right.” He pointed down the trail, where several people rose from behind a ridge line. Four were on horseback leading the group. “They aren’t dawdling.”

Sean sighed. “Nope. We pissed them off pretty good.”

The wreckage of the two cars littered the road. Lights were turned on in nearby houses, and the residents would be investigating the carnage soon. There was no reason for Jessabelle to be there. She was wanted by the authorities, among many other good reasons to stay away. But this, too, was a consequence of her actions. Perhaps it wasn’t her fault, but she bore some responsibility.

Four bodies, torn and lifeless, lay on either side of the road. Jessabelle hated the Coven, but she couldn’t help but feel terrible for these people. She reminded herself that they’d sent the monster out to murder Elise, but knowing they had it coming didn’t make her feel much better.

A fifth figure crawled along the road, arm outstretched. A few feet away, the cracked phone screen reflected the hazy moonlight. Jessabelle walked to the figure’s side and picked up the phone. “Were you calling 911?” she asked.

“Too late for that,” the badly injured woman responded. It took Jessabelle a moment to recognize Tara.

The back of the phone was damaged even worse than the screen. Nothing happened when Jessabelle pressed buttons.

“You’re Jessabelle Rose,” Tara said, her voice thin and distant.

“Yeah. Some folks will be here soon. They’ll call you an ambulance.”

“I wasn’t calling an ambulance. I was calling the Coven.”

“You ain’t dead yet.” Jessabelle set down the useless phone, and knelt down beside the woman. Maybe it was a dangerous thing to do, but it felt like the human thing to do.

“I will be. I was never much good at healing magic. Can’t do much more than stop the blood loss. This is beyond me. Beyond the doctors too, I guess. The Dwayyo had its revenge.”

“I’m sorry.” Jessabelle was surprised to find she really felt that way, too.

“What about Gabriel?” Tara asked. Her voice grew more ragged, her words slower.

“Dwayyo got him first,” Jessabelle said.

“Idiot boy. Told him…told him to run.” She labored to suck in some air. “I screwed this one up, didn’t I?” Another ragged intake of air. “This was supposed to be the easy job.”

Doors opened. Dogs barked. People shouted. “Folks will be here soon,” Jessabelle said. She called out, “Someone call 9-1-1!”

Tara stared at her. “We follow him because we fear him,” she said slowly. “Not because we want to.”

“We’re all afraid of him.”

A thin smile appeared on Tara’s moon-white lips. “Yes. You are, yet you keep fighting. You still…” She wheezed slowly as she breathed. “Thank you for the company.” Her eyes lost focus, and her smile faded. She wheezed twice more as people with flashlights drew close, and then she was still.

Jessabelle closed the woman’s eyes with her fingertips. Before anyone could shine a flashlight directly on her, she transformed into the cat and darted away from the shouts and commotion.

* * *

Jessabelle still didn’t understand diners very well. It seemed silly, after all that she’d seen and done over the last few weeks, that something as simple as a restaurant would intimidate her. It smelled of coffee and grease, which was somehow comforting, but it might have just been because she was starving. The man running the diner and cooking the food looked bored and tired, but seemed happy to have something to do. Jessabelle had some money that Josie had given her, and was spending half of it on a meal.

She’d transformed from the cat back to the panther so she could flee the area at best speed. It still hadn’t been that fast, because the injury to her leg hadn’t completely healed. Another pair of transforms would have done the trick, but by that time she was hungry and feeling lightheaded from fatigue and lack of food. One last transform back into the girl, and it was all she could do to stagger through the diner’s entrance without fainting.

The diner was only large enough to hold six small tables and a counter, where Jessabelle sat. A television on one wall played—something, Jessabelle wasn’t sure. It was behind her shoulder and playing at low volume with closed captions enabled, but every time she glanced over at it, it showed commercials.

An older couple entered the diner, and ordered sandwiches. Jessabelle didn’t intend to listen in, but every time her mind went into idle, she saw Gabriel’s limp body and lifeless eyes, and the carnage near the automobiles. She knew it wasn’t her fault. If it was anyone’s fault, it was Gabriel’s for betraying her. But that didn’t wipe away the horror or the guilt.

She munched on a last strip of bacon and ordered more coffee. As her stomach grew full, exhaustion threatened to take over. She didn’t want to go back out into the night and work her way south again, but she also didn’t want to call Josie until she was relatively close. Hopefully Elise and her friend had found Josie already.

“A bear did that?” the woman behind her asked. Jessabelle turned her head, and saw that the couple was watching a news report about the Dwayyo attack. The closed-caption text below the report stated an expert opinion that a bear would not have done anything of the sort unless provoked. Jessabelle turned her head away, not wanting to see the glaring camera footage of the destruction, even sanitized for television.

The cook shook his head. “Man, can you believe that? That’s only a few miles away from here.”

Jessabelle nodded. “It’s scary.”

He whistled. “You can say that again.” He flipped the chicken pieces on the grill. It was part of the old couple’s order, and it smelled delicious. “You aren’t going far, are you?”

“Nope,” Jessabelle lied. “Not far. And I know enough to stay away from bears.” Bears, yes. Other monsters, not so much.

“Good. You from around here?”

“Maple Bend,” Jessabelle said automatically, and immediately regretted it. It must have been the exhaustion. How could she slip like that?

“Oh,” he said. “Wait, is that the place they are building that road to nowhere?”

“Huh?”

“It’s been in the news a lot lately. Some developer bought up a bunch of property and is building a big ol’ highway up in there. It’ll cost millions and millions of dollars, for something that ain’t much good for anything. It’s crazy, but I s’pose it’s jobs. That’s good, ain’t it?”

Jessabelle shuddered. She didn’t want to think of the bulldozers and earthmovers tearing up the land near her house. The thought of what Thadeus would do with that highway was even worse. An inter-world highway? He’d sent a squad of commandos through a tiny one-way Crossroads. Would he send truckloads of troops with machine guns through the Crossroads at Maple Bend? Tanks?

“Yeah. Sure,” she muttered. She didn’t think the man heard her answer, which was fine by her. He finished making the sandwiches and took them to the couple. When he returned, she asked, “So how much do I owe?” She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. She had two breakfasts, which was probably at least ten dollars even without the coffee.

He punched in the numbers on the cash register, and then stopped, staring at her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Do I have food on my face?” Embarrassed, she wiped her face with a napkin.

He glanced over her shoulder. She did the same, and saw her own face on the television. The closed caption read, “Jessbell Rose,” misspelling her name. It continued, “Wanted for possible domestic terrorism. Should be considered armed and very dangerous. Contact authorities if you see her.”

“What? That ain’t…” she began.

It was no use. The man stared at her, eyes wide. He pulled his hands away from the cash register and raised them. “Look, I don’t want no trouble, okay? The food is free, and I won’t even call no one when you are gone. I promise. Just leave.”

Jessabelle turned to look at the television again. It had a picture of Sean up this time, with a similar caption.

The old woman glared at her companion. “Do something, Mitch!” she demanded.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! Something! Stop her?”

The man chortled. “Stop her? If she’s leaving, why would I stop her?” To Jessabelle, he just nodded and said, “Good evening, young lady.”

Jessabelle rolled her eyes, and put the twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “Can you give me change for this?”

The cook shook his head. “Keep your money, please.”

Jessabelle sighed. She had to get out of here, fast. She left the money on the counter and strode out the exit. When she was far enough from the diner to not be seen, she transformed into the panther. After several transforms, her leg no longer hurt, and the food she’d eaten would be enough for a couple more changes. As she raced alongside the road, she heard the sounds of sirens behind her, converging on the diner. Hunting her.

The jerk of a cook hadn’t kept his promise. That, or the old couple had called 911 after she’d left. Whichever the case might be, she would have to put as much distance between her and the roadside stop as possible before daylight. Then, if necessary, she could turn into a house cat and sleep for a few hours. The police wouldn’t know to look for a cat.

But the Coven would.

Borrowing someone’s phone to call Josie would be a challenge, too. If anyone recognized her, the police could silently surround them both while she waited for Josie to pick her up.

It was going to be a very long night.

They’d missed the last bus by fifteen minutes, leaving them sitting at a bus stop all night. Jack had expected their trip might take more than one day, but he’d hoped that a second day would be spent following up on some clues or spying on a secret Coven base. Instead, after contacting Josie with their new schedule, they spent the night trying to get comfortable on and around a bench.

It wasn’t exactly how he’d hoped to spend their last evening together. Especially as Delcina’s mood grew worse as the night wore on. They’d been through worse. He’d seen with her through exile, war, long marches searching for the Crossroads, and encampments in poor weather. He’d seen her laughing in the rain, and smudged with dirt and dust from the trail. He’d seen her bloody and pale after the queen’s torturers had hacked off her finger with her own magical knife. He’d seen her radiant in the throne room of her castle. And now he’d seen her in his world, dressed in everyday clothes and exhausted after a nearly sleepless night, her hair not entirely in place and her haunting pale blue eyes tempered by the beginnings of bloodshot red. She was always his princess. Even at her worst, she was beautiful.

And he wouldn’t be able to see her for a long time after this. If ever. He wanted to talk to her about it, but her expression had grown fierce, and she looked as if she had some irritating piece of food between her teeth that she was trying to work loose. He’d seen her with that look before, as they prepared Dane’s Point for battle. He supposed that was what she was doing in her head right now, making a list of how she must prepare her entire kingdom for battle.

Jack awoke from one of several short five-minute naps, and wiggled around on the bench to get comfortable. He checked his watch. It was nearly five in the morning. The first bus should arrive any minute. Zeke was standing and alert, unfazed by the hours. Delcina stared at the ground, arms crossed. Jack stood and stretched.

“That was quite a coincidence today, wasn’t it?” Delcina said.

“Yesterday,” Jack said, although the two days blurred. He laughed. “Y’all tend to mark the days by sunrise. Here we change the days at midnight. Kind of interesting, I reckon.”

She was not interested. “What if it wasn’t a coincidence, Jack?”

Jack thought for a moment. “You mean if he came looking for us? How would he know who we were? How would he have known we were there? And why didn’t he just kill us outright if he had the chance?”

“I’ve been playing the conversation over in my head all night,” she said. “While he may not have known Zeke and me, there’s every reason to believe he knew you.”

“How? He’s never seen me. I wasn’t on the news about the ogre. I ain’t nobody.”

“You come from Maple Bend. How would he not know who you are? Hothlurian grew the portal near your town deliberately over the course of centuries, like his own personal garden. He patiently waited until it was too large to be destroyed. He’s methodical. If the old stories are to be believed, I imagine he knows every man, woman, and child living in Maple Bend. You were part of his garden. Besides, you were known. You were the first one to discover a giant, weren’t you? That must have caught his attention. Don’t let his act fool you.”

“Oh, I won’t. He scares the crap out of me. Okay. Maybe he might have recognized me. But why would he come pay us a visit? How would he have known?”

“Remember what Cody said? What if his wife called because we were asking questions? Maybe Jack suddenly showed up in town after disappearing mysteriously for three months, and it caught his attention. Or maybe it was a coincidence, I don’t know.”

“But you think he might have come to get a look-see? Why? I don’t matter.”

“You do.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s farfetched, I don’t know. I just need some sleep, I guess.”

“What?”

Before she could answer, the bus arrived. Once they were on board, in spite of only eight other passengers there, she refused to say anything else. She caught some sleep as the bus meandered its way north for the next two hours.

Josie picked them up at the nearest bus stop. When they returned to the house, Burke and Jessabelle were gone. Josie explained that Jessabelle had gone searching for someone who had escaped from the Coven.

“I hope she had more success than we did,” Delcina said. “At least we learned that Hothlurian seems committed to an invasion, even if he cannot personally cross over. After so many generations, I think our people had forgotten that he was merely exiled, not destroyed. He’s never forgotten us.”

Zeke nodded. “It sounds like he’s learned to be more subtle here. Sneaky. Running things from the shadows. That’s good stuff to know, but it doesn’t help us defend ourselves from whatever he is planning, especially if it’s happening next week.”

“We ain’t done yet. I don’t think,” Jack said. Turning to Josie, he asked, “Mrs. Ankrum, are you any good at searching for things on the internet?”

“Am I any good at it? I don’t know. What do you need?”

What he needed was to remember what he’d been taught back at school about using the computers. Half the time he’d tried searching for anything on the school’s computers, he’d get a message back saying the ‘site was blocked’ for some reason or another. Unlike most kids, he didn’t have a phone or computer on the internet at home, so the school’s systems or the occasional trip to the public library were all he had.

When he didn’t have a specific assignment to work on, he tried looking up information about giants, so that he could find out what he’d seen when he was younger. The computer had given him a lot of links to sports teams. While he had fun reading articles about the teams, he’d seriously wondered if the whole internet thing wasn’t all that useful to him.

“My friend said they are building a road up by my home town that some people are calling the ‘road to nowhere’.”

“Yeah, it’s been on the news a couple of times. Why?”

“I think Thadeus and the Coven are behind it.”

“It’s going to the other Crossroads?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And something’s happening next week. I don’t know what.”

She shrugged. “Let’s see what we can find.” She opened a laptop computer on her kitchen table and spent a few minutes browsing through information. Jack leaned against the counter and waited. After a few minutes, Josie pointed to her screen and said, “There’s not much. Yes, that’s what people are calling the road. It’s all privately funded and private land, but the Lieutenant Governor is coming out on the weekend to give it some air of importance, I guess. Nothing in particular about next week that I can see here.”

“No big event?”

“Nope. What should I be looking for?”

Jack shrugged. This was frustrating. He’d left with high hopes of coming up with answers, but instead he had returned with more questions.

Burke’s truck pulled up to the house. Burke exited with a cat cradled under his left arm, using the cane in his right hand to steady himself as he hurried in through the back door, and he set the cat down on the linoleum kitchen floor. The cat was black but for a white spot on its right paw.

“Is anyone else here?” he asked.

Josie shook her head. “Delcina is in the living room writing up a report or something. Zeke is with her. That’s it.”

Burke nodded. “Okay.” He looked down at the cat. “Go ahead, now.”

Jack stared at the cat, then at Burke, and then back at the cat. Did the cat know a trick?

Josie echoed his thoughts. “What exactly are we waiting for the cat to do, Burke?”

“She’s going to change back into Jessabelle. She called me and told me to pick her up while you were gone. She said she’d be small and hard to find. That was code for her being the cat.”

“She told you where to find her?” Jack asked. “And you went there?”

“Well, yeah. Of course. Found her lurkin’ in the yard across the street, staring straight at me.”

“From someone’s yard?” Josie asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t see how anyone could have.” He grinned broadly. “I looked to make sure.”

“Good,” Josie said. “Now will you please sneak on back there and put that cat back where you found it? Jessabelle ain’t got a white spot on her paw like that.”

The smile behind Burke’s beard took a few seconds to collapse as the explanation took hold. He looked down at the cat, which was now exploring underneath the kitchen table. “Wait. That ain’t Jessabelle? That’s just…”

“Somebody’s pet, Burke,” Josie said.

“Huh. That explains the fuss she made in the truck. I just figured she was keeping up appearances in case we were followed.”

An hour later, Burke returned with Jessabelle—the real Jessabelle, also in cat form. If she knew about the earlier mix-up, she pretended otherwise. Jack suspected it might be more because she was distracted.

“Elise never contacted you?” she asked Josie and Burke. “Or her friend Kendra?”

They shook their heads. Josie said, “Now, just because they ain’t called yet doesn’t mean they are in trouble. They might have found some other place safe to spend the night.”

“Right,” Jessabelle said. “They know what they are doing.”

After summing up their adventures of the last twenty-four hours, Burke left the room shaking his head. “I wish I couldn’t believe all this,” he muttered.

“I’ll create a report for Commander Crane with what we’ve learned so far,” Delcina said. “We are already aware that the Coven has been trying to break through the Maple Bend gate for many weeks now, but perhaps a warning that there may be some additional activity in a few days can help the Wardens prepare.”

“I wish we knew more about what Elise knows,” Jack said. “Jessabelle, did Elise tell you she’d tried to send copies of the information to other places? She say where?”

Jessabelle shook her head. “We didn’t have time, and I don’t think she wanted to get into specifics with Gabriel there. She mentioned the police and the news.”

Zeke said, “I don’t suppose this is one of those things we could just walk in and ask for.”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think so. I have no idea how to go about it.”

Jessabelle folded her arms and said, “It don’t matter. Elise will be here in a while.”

Josie spoke up. “I can try to contact friends who might have friends who can find things out. We’d just be guessing, but it’s a start.”

“If it comes to that, you must be extremely careful,” Delcina said. “You know the risk, of course. I worry about using you as a resource any more than we already have. To say this location is of extreme strategic importance would be an understatement. I’d rather not risk your exposure.” She turned to Jack and asked, “Besides your friend, Jack, is there anyone else you might contact who could help us out?”

Jack sighed and shook his head. “I wasn’t exactly the popular kid in school. I don’t know a lot of people outside of Maple Bend or Branton real well. I guess I have a couple of relatives in Charleston I could look up, but I don’t know if they’d help me. Maybe Sean knows people? He went to school in Morgantown.”

Delcina absently rubbed her hand over the scar where her finger had once been. “We can suggest that as a follow-up action if Elise does not arrive. In the meantime, we should probably go back and report to Commander Crane what we’ve discovered.”

Jessabelle shook her head. “No. I’m waiting for Elise.”

“Crane needs to debrief you, Jessabelle. Maybe you more than the rest of us.”

“She can debrief Elise instead.”

“We have to plan for the possibility that something happened to her.”

Jessabelle lowered her gaze, and lowered her voice. “Elise will be okay. She is okay.”

Delcina stopped whatever she was going to say, and stared at Jessabelle. “Okay. Why? What’s really wrong?”

Jessabelle kept her eyes locked on the floor. “People are dead because I saved Elise. Maybe they weren’t good people, but nobody deserves to get tore up like that. And now that monster is running loose so that I could save Elise.”

This got Jack’s attention. They all felt guilt over things they’d done or hadn’t done. He’d felt it since his father left them years ago. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“I know that, Jack. It was the Coven’s fault, but it was my choice.” Tears appeared in ferocious, angry eyes. “I had to choose who would die. I chose for Elise and Kendra to live.”

“I see,” Delcina said, nodding slowly. “Those are difficult decisions. It is unfair that you have to make them—that any of us have to make them. However, you are absolutely right. There’s no reason they shouldn’t be well.”

“Thanks,” Jessabelle said. “Even though I know you are just saying it to make me feel better, thanks.”

“I’m not just saying it to make you feel better. Thanks to you, they were able to disappear again safely. Nobody knows where they are, and there are many reasons why they might be delayed, perhaps indefinitely. Wherever they are, they may not be coming here, and time is of the essence. Perhaps we should give them two hours. We could use the time to rest and regain our wits, anyway. Then we’ll speak with Crane, and you can return when we are done. If Elise returns before that, Josie can send for us. Fair enough?”

Jessabelle nodded curtly.

Josie said, “You all look about ready to drop. Delcina, you can have the guest room upstairs to rest if you’d like.”

“Thank you. Jack? Would you attend me for a bit?” At Josie’s raised eyebrow, Delcina said, “Nothing inappropriate, Mrs. Ankrum, I assure you.”

Jack’s eyebrows were a bit slower to return to their original position.

Jessabelle snorted.

* * *

In the guest bedroom, Delcina sat down on the bed, and motioned for Jack to join her. “We need to talk.”

It was what he had been dreading for three months. The time had come. “I know,” he said, taking a seat. “You need to go home.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around him and resting her forehead on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I cannot delay it any longer. If there’s any chance that Hothlurian may be able to send forces through, he’ll be on our kingdom’s doorstep. We are reeling from this senseless civil war, as short as it was, and we’ll need to unify in order to face this new enemy.”

“You ain’t wrong,” Jack said. “But what forces? Like I told you, Thadeus may have some commandos and witches and monsters, but he ain’t got an army. Nothing like what we fought back at Dane’s Point. We’ve got this. You’ve got this.”

She nodded by pivoting her forehead so his chin moved. “I hope so. If nothing else, the common enemy may help us come together again as a nation.” She raised her head, and looked at the window. “I can’t escape the feeling that there’s much more going on, and we’re missing something. Hothlurian is a devil, Jack, a very clever one who has been around for thousands of years. He is no fool. I can’t believe things are as straightforward as they sound. He may succumb to rage, but he would not do so without some kind of rational plan. Beating down the gateway and sending a handful of troops to get slaughtered by the Wardens is not it.”

“We’ll figure something out, Delcina. I promise you that. We’ll do everything we can to make sure your kingdom is safe.”

“That’s another matter, Jack. I’d like you to come back with me.”

“Come back? You mean as…”

“As our hero. The Hero of the Kingdom. And…perhaps more.”

Jack mulled that over. “Perhaps more? Meaning you and me?”

She smiled now, which seemed achingly sad. “You do not need to answer now. We potentially have yet another fight of our lives coming up, after all. But these threats serve to remind me how short life can be, and how quickly things can change. Now is not the time for promises, but I… I am rambling, aren’t I?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“I am sorry.”

Jack shook his head. “No, I mean, yeah, things can change fast.” Was there seriously a chance between the two of them? A princess and a hillbilly from literally different worlds? Everything sounded wrong about it, but his heart leaped at the faintest suggestion of hope. He should listen to it, shouldn’t he? The worst thing imaginable to him lately was to say goodbye to Delcina forever. Maybe it wasn’t sensible, maybe it wasn’t right, and he certainly was too young to get tied down just yet. He’d known a lot of people who had gotten married around his age, and the marriage had ended years later with tears and wrecked lives. The only sensible answer was…

“Yeah, sure. I mean, not right away or anything. We have to kick this guy’s ass first, right? And start fixing up your kingdom and everything. And I probably ought to learn some kind of a job or something. Maybe all that will take too long, and you’ll always be busy running a kingdom and stuff. So maybe we won’t ever be finished with this stuff. But when it’s all begun, at least…I think…”

She raised an eyebrow. “Now who is rambling?”

Jack laughed. “Okay. How’s this? Delcina, I think I am in love with you, and you know I don’t lie.”

She stared at him in silence for a moment, and her eyes glistened. She closed her eyes, rubbed one with the heel of her hand, and answered, “No, you don’t. I love you as well, Jack. And now I think of us being apart, and it…it…”

“It sucks!”

She chuckled, blinking again and taking a deep breath. “Whatever that means, yes. I think it does.”

He grabbed her hands in his. Her slender fingers were warm. They were both used to the scar on her left hand where her finger had once been, and it no longer brought back terrible memories. She treated it as a badge of honor, almost eliminating his lingering guilt over how she had lost it. All he thought of, holding her hands, was how strong she had been in his moment of weakness. He wanted to be that strong for her in return.

He sighed. “But you do have your princess stuff to do back home for a while. I won’t be much help there. If anything, I’d be in the way.”

She shook her head. “Never.”

“Nice of you to say, but let’s be honest. You, trying to get your government back together again, while your boyfriend keeps hanging around? We’ve talked about this.”

She lowered her eyes. “I know. Meanwhile, here, your resistance to magic makes you a powerful weapon against Hothlurian and the Coven.”

“I don’t know about that, but it’s something. If there’s anything I can do to keep him and his gang out of your kingdom, I’m going to do it.”

She shifted her weight, sliding closer on the bed. “You remain the Hero of the Kingdom, Jack. Perhaps for a little while, we may need to be apart. It’s been a good three months, Jack.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. A ghost of a grim smile appeared on her lips. “Well, no, it has been a terrible three months, but it was made bearable because you were beside me.” She leaned closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “I thought you were a scoundrel when I first met you, and I have never been so happy to be proven wrong. Yours is the truest heart I have ever met, and I know I can trust you. It shall be difficult without you. I pray that in a few weeks we shall never have to be apart again.”

“It won’t be too long. We’ll figure this out one way or another. I love you, Delcina.” He said it, so it must be true, right? He gave her hands a gentle squeeze and repeated, “I love you.”

They kissed. His arms were around her, and hers around him. He could feel his heart racing, her warm breath growing more rapid as her lips explored his.

She froze. “Jack, if we continue, I shall be made a liar to Josie.”

He sat up, uncertain of when they had become horizontal on the bed.

She sat up, and straightened her shirt. She leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Come back to me when it is time, Jack,” she whispered. “And then…”

“We’ll see.”

She nodded. “We shall see.” She grasped his hand as he stood up from the bed, holding it, softly kissing his knuckles once before letting him go.

He opened the door to encounter Zeke’s harsh stare. He cleared his throat, closed the door behind him, and asked quietly, “You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

Zeke folded his arms, and his gaze was as sharp as Delcina’s dagger.

“Look, nothing happened!” Jack said. “I mean, we talked. And kissed. But…”

“We had best let the princess get some rest,” Zeke said sternly. Then his expression broke and he grinned. “I know we both want only what is best for her.”

“Right.” Jack didn’t quite know what to make of that. He descended the stairs, his legs a little wobbly from the rush of adrenaline and everything that had just happened. At the bottom of the stairs, he met a similar gaze from Jessabelle. He raised his hands. “Nothing happened!”

“She better not be messing with you,” Jessabelle said. “Don’t get me wrong, I like her, but after that whole civil war and stuff, I don’t know if you can trust them royal types.”

“We can trust her,” he said. “She’s…”

Footsteps pounded on the stairs from the basement. Debra Arnot appeared, eyes wide. When she found Jack and Jessabelle, she exhaled deeply and said, “Y’all need to come quickly. There’s a situation brewin’ on the other side.”

Jenny sensed their arrival several seconds before the group emerged from the Crossroads. It was Jessabelle she “felt” first, followed by Jack. Her impressions of the other two were dulled, but she knew they were all coming. As long as she was close to the Crossroads, it spoke to her.

That was a strange and thoroughly useless ability. A nice condolence prize for destroying her body and robbing her of her human sight. At least directing her rage at the Crossroads allowed her to direct blame somewhere other than herself. Unfortunately, it was a fleeting bit of redirection.

Jack, Jessabelle, and Delcina didn’t recognize her when they emerged from the hole. Why would they? She wasn’t sure she’d recognize herself if she could look into a mirror. She’d really screwed things up, hadn’t she? At least this time, nobody else’s life was ruined because of her recklessness. This time it was all her, only her, and it made some kind of sense. A penance to atone for the death of Natalie Daniels, who died to save Jenny from her own idiocy on the battlefield, and everyone else who suffered because of her stupidity.

While Jenny recognized them immediately, they didn’t quite look right to her, either. Jessabelle was the most noticeable, her features taking on a distinctly feline appearance. As Jenny stared more closely, there was no one thing that looked wrong or different from the Jessabelle she knew so well. But taken as a whole, from a distance, it was almost as if she finally noticed something that had been there all along.

Jack’s appearance was less drastic, but for some reason her imagination conjured an image of a knight in shining armor. The light—or whatever passed as light for her strange form of vision—seemed to reflect just a little strangely from him, but nothing specific she could put her finger on.

Delcina was the least changed of the group. Not normal—nobody was normal with her Sight replacing her normal eyesight. The color of her skin, hair, clothes, and especially her eyes were more vibrant, color a little too saturated, just like everyone else. But otherwise, she was simply Delcina.

Jenny sighed and lowered her head. The magnitude of what had happened to her still hadn’t fully hit. It just struck in waves, like the occasional waves of pain that assaulted her. The rest of the time, she just felt numb. Numb to everything. She just wanted to go back to sleep for one or two million years, and silence the voices.

Some of the voices spoke English. One sounded almost maternal. It didn’t matter. They confused her, and bombarded her with thoughts, with words, and with images—none of which she fully understood. But as they had their chance, they quieted. Eventually, they would all have their say, and she would have her peace.

Right now, she couldn’t get an image out of her head. She’d attempted to draw it in the dirt, and as she did, the volume of the voices decreased. For some reason, they thought this dumb pattern was really, really important. They must have expected her to understand what it was. They were wrong. It meant nothing to her.

She could see the texture, the grooves in the dirt, much more easily than making out light and shadow with her Sight. It made her think of Celtic knotwork, but she was not familiar with that style of decoration or whatever the voices were making her draw. It was like a plus sign, or an X. As she kept refining the details as best as she could with dirt as a medium, she realized that what she took for flowers along the edges of the knotwork were actually symbols. When she’d make a mistake, a voice—with a thick accent that sounded like a variation of the accent Annie, Jack, and her cousin had—would correct her.

She was supposed to show it to Annie, but she didn’t know why.

“Debbie said y’all were in trouble,” Jack said.

Sean shrugged. “What else is new? Yeah. There’s a new Warden in town, and he doesn’t want anyone going through the Crossroads.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, down the road. “That’s them.”

Jack peered down the hill. Jenny couldn’t ‘see’ what he was looking at. She couldn’t see much more than ten or twenty feet past her nose.

“The dude with the chopstache doesn’t look happy,” Jack said. “Maybe y’all ought to just come back to our side before they get here.”

“I’d like to straighten this out first,” Sean said. “Besides, it looks like Jenny is figuring something out.”

Jessabelle gasped, and rushed to Jenny’s side. “Jenny? What happened?”

Jenny sighed. It was time to pretend to be perky and optimistic. That’s what they wanted to hear, so they wouldn’t worry about her. She’d blend in. It was what she’d learned to do all her life. Pretend to be part of the group, and stay in the background. “I took a wrong turn in the Crossroads. I experimented, got lost, and it burned me. They are saying I’m healing up really well, though.” She smiled through her cracked lips. She’d learned far too much on her little exploration. “You should have seen the other guy.”

That might have been too much perkiness and optimism. Jack’s smile seemed genuine, satisfied that her soul had come through unscathed, but his face was still riddled with worry. Jessabelle and Delcina weren’t so easily fooled, and their faint, sympathetic smiles didn’t completely mask the concern and suspicion in their eyes. “I’ll be okay,” Jenny said. “Eventually.” A tiny, stupid part of her actually believed the comforting words.

Jessabelle pointed to the drawing in the dirt. “Uh, what is that?”

“I’m not sure. I keep seeing an image of it. I think I’m supposed to ask Grandma Annie about it, but I don’t know what to ask her. It’s got something to do with the Crossroads. I think…” She could almost hear the voice right now, in her head, with the distant West Virginian twang but worse. “Maybe it’s someone related to me. To us. This is important to her.” She didn’t explain who she was talking about. They could make their wrong assumptions.

“I recognize that,” Jessabelle said, tracing the loops with her fingers without disturbing the drawing. “For my birthday, Hattie gave me a pendant that she said had been in our family for a time.”

Some distant part of Jenny, her old self, leaped at the words. Could there be a reason the spirits in the Crossroads were driving her crazy? The rest of her remained numb. She forced a smile again, mimicking how Old Jenny would react. “Maybe Grandma Annie knows more about it.”

“She’s here,” Jack said, as the procession of Wardens arrived.

“You assaulted my men,” Chief Warden Ulster said. His mane of curly white hair, flowing into massive sideburns and a bushy mustache, framed a face that was already red with fury. The white of his hair and the red of his face seemed exaggerated, almost cartoony. Jenny chalked that up to her impossible vision. Even off his warhorse, he cut a tall and imposing figure.

A retinue of Wardens surrounded him, with Annie and Lisbet in an outer orbit. Annie looked furious, but it was directed entirely at the Wardens. Lisbet stared straight ahead, head slightly bowed.

Sean stood defiantly yet respectfully before the Chief Warden. Why couldn’t she be more like Sean? Not that it mattered now. Not that she’d be able to hide in plain sight like her mother wanted, either, to be the invisible face in the crowd. She’d ruined that, too.

“They assaulted us, sir. We asked them to verify their orders, as they contradicted our own instructions. The world beyond the Crossroads is our home. We had people there scouting to learn what our common enemy was planning.”

Ulster frowned, and unclenched his fists with slow deliberation. “Your home? Your instructions? Let me tell you about my home and my duty, boy. My duty is to protect our home, our entire world, from Hothlurian. Your little excursions through the gateways have undermined my ability to perform this duty. The guards’ orders were clear, and they needed no verification. They were to prevent anyone from going into or out of the gateway except by my personal command. You were warned, and you violated that.”

Sean continued to stand firmly in Ulster’s fury, but didn’t answer the charge.

Jack took a step forward, acting like…well, like Jack. “Not to toot our own horn or anything, sir, but if it weren’t for us, Hothlurian would already be here, in person, kicking your asses.”

Ulster’s clenched his fists again, and he strode forward. Two of his men followed a half-step behind, hands on the hilts of their swords. “I was told there were four of you. Did we get more Darklanders in the last fifteen minutes? Is this now an open entry port?”

“Funny you should say that, sir,” Jack said. “Because the bad guys are building a highway through our worlds right this minute. We thought you’d like to know about it, so you could do your duty and all that.”

Ulster’s voice was a low growl. “We are already preparing for an invasion. I have had enough of this. Arrest all of them until we are done here.”

Delcina stepped next to Jack. “You shall not, Chief Warden. They are under my protection, and we have things to discuss in order to secure the protection of my land and our world.”

“Your protection? Who are you?”

“I am Delcina, daughter of King Ferik, and Crown Princess of Sanguine.”

His countenance changed immediately, although Jenny noted that his knuckles whitened as he offered a polite bow, and the rest of the retinue followed suit. “My apologies, Your Highness. I did not recognize you attired as you are. You were a child when I last saw you.”

“No apology is due me, Chief Warden. Your aid in our battle against the spawn of Hothlurian, in the form of my step-mother Taliel, was invaluable and critical in our ability to defeat her. Your presence is welcome here in territories claimed by Sanguine. My country has been weakened by war and treachery, even as we stand as the front line against an invasion. Together, I am certain we can defeat our ancient enemy once and for all.”

It was somewhat amusing seeing the Chief Warden change tack so suddenly as Delcina took the wind out of his sails. He nodded graciously to Delcina, and said, “Let me apologize for my rush to judgment. As with too many things of late, I find I was poorly informed.” At these words, Lisbet’s jaw clenched for an instant. Ulster’s words were a reprimand of her failure to inform him of the Crossroads the instant they were discovered, but Jenny doubted he’d let her get many words in at all in the two hours since his arrival.

The Chief Warden continued. “May I assume that your continued cooperation with Commander Crane during this time means that you are satisfied that the presence of the Wardens in your lands has been in accordance to treaty?”

“I can only speak of my personal dealings and the information I have received so far, but yes.”

“Good. We shall continue to uphold our end of the treaty, and do all in our power to keep your nation, and our world, safe from Hothlurian. Tell me, what have you discovered about our enemy’s plans in the Darklands?”

Delcina offered a quick summary of their adventures on the other side of the Crossroads. “There are more details to be discussed later, and we are awaiting more information from the defector. As we currently stand, we know Hothlurian is building a road directly to the known gateway, probably with plans to move an invading force into position should the Hobbfield seal fall. We have reason to believe he may take some kind of additional action sometime next week.”

“That moves our timing up a bit, but that confirms to me the course of action we had planned. Thank you for this information. For now, we’ll need to seal this gateway magically and collapse the chamber to bury it.”

“What? We need this!” Sean exclaimed.

Was that a flicker of a smile behind the great white mustache? Even in defeat, the Chief Warden took pride in victory. “Commander Crane provided me with several arguments for why we should retain use of the gateway. While they have merit, the simple truth is that my duty is to protect our world from Hothlurian. If he now intends to send forces through to control us by proxy, then we must take all measures to shut down all avenues of attack. Our forces are divided between two portals already. Our best hope is to render this one unusable.”

Jenny was surprised to find herself speaking. “It won’t be unusable for long. It will shift, just as the exit point did when there was a wall in the way.” She knew this for a fact, but how did she learn it? If felt like she’d known this for a long time, as if she read it in a book years ago. But she didn’t know the Crossroads even existed until a few months ago.

The voices still whispered to her in the background. They knew. They understood.

“Who are you?” Ulster asked.

“My granddaughter,” Annie said. “She’s helped me keep the other Crossroads sealed. She’s been investigating this one so we can better understand them.”

Ulster nodded. “I see. Well, Granddaughter of Annabelle Rose, what you say is correct. No doubt that was why the chamber was erected surrounding this one, rather than simply burying it. However, it takes time for it to move. In that time, we hope to have fortifications completed at the Blood Creek gateway, and then we will have the luxury of doing the same here. In the meantime, we are launching an offensive of our own.”

This announcement elicited gasps from everyone except the top officers. Ulster nodded. “We shall accelerate our schedule. Our enemy has not sealed the other side of the gateway against us, and the magical push against our seals has been rising steadily for the last three weeks. We will launch a raid through the gateway into the Darklands with the mission to cripple the enemy’s magical force. A standard neutralization of battle-witches. We believe Hothlurian will be unable to recover the magical offensive for some time, probably years. Your border, Princess Delcina, will be protected.”

“A suicide mission?” Sean asked.

“No! We will open the portal for a short period of time for the raiders to return, whereupon we will seal it again. The window to return will be long enough for our people, but it will be far too short for the enemy to exploit. In fact, we can use volunteers who know the layout of the territory on the other side.”

Jack made a face like he’d bitten into a sour lemon. “Let me get this straight. You are sending people to rush in, murder a bunch of witches, and jump back out again?”

The Chief Warden frowned. “Have care with your choice of words, young man. We are at war. We are defending ourselves from an invasion from hostile forces by launching this counter-attack. However, yes, we are timing our attack during their next surge against the seal, when the witches will by necessity be near the gateway. Our task is to inflict maximum casualties among them. It is a surprise raid, in and out before they have a chance to muster a defense, but it should secure our world for years, giving us time to build a more appropriate defense against our ancient enemy.”

Jessabelle spoke for the first time in this exchange. “What about our world?”

“You have survived Hothlurian’s presence for centuries. I am sure you will continue as you always have. However, harsh as it may sound, my oath is to protect our world. While I wish no harm upon yours, it is not my concern.”

Jack’s mind reeled. How could this happen? The Wardens were supposed to be the good guys. Now he wanted to punch their leader in his mouth.

Sean raised his middle finger to the backs of the Wardens as they disappeared down the path, then turned to face the others. “I’m going wherever Debbie is. I don’t care what the Chief Warden says.”

Annie nodded. Speaking quietly so the two guards Ulster left behind couldn’t overhear, she said, “I was in the meeting when Ulster first arrived. They asked me to seal up the Crossroads before they bury it. We’ve got until morning, at least. Don’t worry about the guards. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Jessabelle looked like a child as she stomped her foot. “I made a promise to Elise and Kendra! I told them I’d bring them to a safe place where the Man in the White Suit couldn’t find them. Now they are going to get to Josie’s and there’ll be nothing. No way back.”

Delcina spoke softly. “This is a temporary solution at best. Our worlds may be closed off from each other for years, but it does not end the threat of invasion.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Delcina looking directly at him. He didn’t look back at her. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“Nothing can, I am afraid,” Annie said, cupping her hand against the glare of the evening sunset peeking out underneath the low clouds. “As long as the Man in the White Suit is out there. Maybe a few years is all we get, but it’s something.”

Jack felt the temperature rise in his chest. “Come on, Annie! You ain’t saying you agree with that asshole, are you?”

“Nope, not at all. For what it’s worth, neither does Lisbet Crane. Ulster was caught with his pants down, along with the rest of the Wardens, and if you ask me, he’s overreacting to compensate. This counter-attack against the Coven sounds stupid and risky, but I ain’t got any better ideas. Not yet, anyway. And damned if I don’t wish I could go with them.”

“For Hattie?” Jessabelle asked.

Annie nodded, and turned her gaze to the ground, turning her back to the sun. “Even if I was captured, it’d be worth it to know if she was okay. Y’all didn’t find out anything, did you?”

Jessabelle shook her head. “Not yet. But when Elise gets here, we might know a lot more and be able to come up with a better plan. We just need a little more time—maybe just hours. She took everything she could from the Coven. Wouldn’t it be better if we knew more?”

Annie made an exasperated grunting noise. “Of course it would, but I have my doubts it would change the Chief Warden’s mind, and Lisbet can’t go against direct orders. She’s being left here to bury the gate and establish an outpost to watch over it, while everyone else is heading back to Blood Creek.”

“What about you, Grandma?”

“I’m staying here with Lisbet for a while, since she’ll be running the new guard post here. It won’t be luxury or anything, but in a few months it ought to be a little nicer than the encampment has been, especially with regular supplies from the Wardens. I think Min might be staying, too. We’ll make room for y’all as necessary. Unless y’all are returning to the city.” She looked significantly at Jack.

Sean stabbed at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “So we force a stalemate and delay the war. We hide here until Thadeus tries again.”

“It could be a long time,” Delcina said quietly. “It took centuries last time.” Jack knew the tone. She was offering hope she didn’t really possess.

“This isn’t like last time,” Sean said. “Do you think he’ll be willing to fade back into the background after this to come up with a new plan? Do you think he won’t hurt people we care about on the other side? I don’t think he’s going to stop this time. He’s murdering people.”

“That ain’t hardly new,” Annie said.

“Maybe not,” Sean said. “I just don’t like sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even if it’s a few years.”

“I know, Sean. I don’t like it either. I just don’t see any other choice. We wouldn’t even have what little choice we’ve got if it weren’t for y’all. Thadeus can’t enter the Crossroads himself. That would have changed everything.”

Jenny muttered something to herself. Nobody else seemed to hear it, but Jack turned to her and asked, “What was that?”

Jenny continued to poke at a drawing in the dirt. “He can, though. He’s just afraid to.”

Jack, and everyone else, stared at her. What made her think the Man in the White Suit was afraid of anything? Even Annie seemed incredulous, but she softly asked, “What do you mean, honey?” Annie asked.

“Since I—was hurt—I’ve had a bunch of memories that don’t belong to me. There are voices inside the crossroads trying to explain it all now, but I can’t hear them too well.”

Annie knelt down beside her granddaughter and put her arm gently on Jenny’s back. Jenny flinched at the first touch, then seemed to relax. Annie glanced briefly with surprise at the drawing, and then turned to Jenny. Her voice was little more than a whisper, but every word came out with the clarity of a pistol shot. “From these memories and the voices, why do you think he is he afraid to come through the Crossroads?”

“He’s afraid he can’t find his way back. That’s what the Wardens took away from him. He’ll get lost, like I almost was.”

Sean asked, “Is this like what Taft was talking about?”

“Yeah. We don’t belong there, he does. It’s like magnetic pulls. People, even monsters, we’re like magnets with the same polarity. It will push us through to the other side if we don’t do something stupid to stop ourselves or mess with the flow.” She put bite into the word ‘stupid’. “But the Man in the White Suit is different. He’s like the opposite polarity. It will hold him there. Whatever he did to escape the first time, it was like putting himself in the suit of a human, with a different polarity so he was rejected.”

“So without it, he’s likely to be trapped there?” Annie asked.

“Not just trapped. What happened to me, and the Wardens, and everyone else—it will happen to him, too. Worse. There’ll be even less of him left. Because it’s the human spirit, soul, whatever that holds onto that polarity, not the body.”

Sean nodded. “So that’s what the Wardens were really trying to do back then. Get him stuck there long enough, and his spirit and body would be completely destroyed.”

Delcina knelt down at Jenny’s level, staring at Jenny’s bandages. “Taliel was part human, and literally of his blood. So maybe healing him could have provided him with that touch of humanity, so he could come through safely.”

Jack began to pace. “This is great news!” he said. “She’s already dead. Here we were trying to learn secrets on the other side, and Jenny figured out the greatest secret of them all. So we just boot his butt into one of these Crossroads, and it’s over! Nature takes its course.”

“That’s what the Wardens thought,” Sean said glumly. “The guy laughs off bullet shots, and can snap a witch’s neck with a thought.”

“How’d they do it last time?”

Sean shrugged. “They spent thousands of lives capturing him, and then poisoned him. Even then, they messed up, and he somehow slipped through.”

Jack said, “Well, maybe we could poison him, still. Where’d they get the poison?”

“The Dogwood clan. There was only one that has been seen in hundreds of years, and he was an exile.”

That was a gut-punch. “Oh,” Jack said. “Zainus.” He looked to Delcina. “I don’t reckon he left some kind of cookbook around, did he?”

She shook her head.

Jack’s frustration grew as his last thread of hope disintegrated. Even if by some miracle they could tackle the Man in the White Suit and push him into the Crossroads, they couldn’t risk actually doing his job for him.

Sean said, “So maybe that’s why he had the Coven search for the Crossroads, and protect it, instead of doing it himself. He probably doesn’t want to get any closer than he absolutely has to. But that doesn’t give us much of a weapon to use against him, unless we have a way of luring him into this one by accident, or carrying it around with us and tossing it at him.”

Jenny shook her head and said, “Even if we could do that, he made his way out before, and he could probably do it again. He might be burned and weakened without Taliel’s help, now, but he might still be able to make it through.”

Jack raised his fist. “And we have an army of Wardens to kick his ass on the other side when he does, and send him right back in again!”

Nobody else seemed to share his confidence. The group grew quiet. Out of ideas, out of hope. Jack’s shoulders slumped.

Jessabelle sat beside Annie and Jenny, and the three quietly discussed the picture Jenny had drawn in the dirt. Jack didn’t listen. Unless it involved some miracle device for sneaking back through portals, he didn’t care.

He walked a short distance away from the rest of the group and stared out over the hills. Any other time, they would have beckoned to him, promising mysteries just over the next ridge, buried under a green canopy, hidden down a ravine. Now they mocked him. Even if he wanted to, he’d never be able to explore those hills.

Delcina approached him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. Her touch sent sweet and bitter signals along his nerves at the same time. “Jack, will you walk with me?”

“Always.” They walked down the trail toward the encampment, although that was certainly not the destination either of them had in mind. Their hands touched, and almost by reflex he took her hand in his. She didn’t resist.

“It’s time,” she said.

“I know,” he answered.

“My heart demands I ask you one more time. Please come with me, Jack. Sanguine needs its hero. I need you.”

“And I want to come with you more than anything.”

She lowered her head. “But you won’t.”

Jack shook his head. “Look, I know we ain’t got a plan or anything yet. But we’ll figure something out sooner or later, I promise you. And then we’ll stop him. Since I seem to be kind of spell-resistant, I’m the best one to help fight him and the Coven.”

She sighed. “I know. If anyone can stop him, it’s you.”

“And when I do, I’ll find my way back here. I promise.”

They stopped walking. Delcina looked back up the trail at the excavation site, now red in the fading sunset. “It could be years.”

For an instant, he saw Delcina back in that horrible torture chamber in the palace, with Thadeus standing where Taliel had been, taking revenge for his dead daughter. Jack vowed that it would never happen. If he could keep Thadeus and his minions away from this place for years, keeping her safe, he’d call that a victory.

There was always a chance, right? He’d lucked out of some pretty bad scrapes recently. He couldn’t see any reason for hope, but he’d try. “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe we’ll figure out a way to kick his butt someday soon. Permanently. Then I’ll come and pay you a visit, even if I have to dig my way back through these Crossroads after they’re buried.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “And then maybe I can come see you, and you can finally take me fishing.”

“We didn’t get a chance to do that, did we?”

“No.” She wiped a tear from her eye with her free hand, and looked at him with a confident smile. “You can take me on that date you promised me. You can teach me to use fishing rods. Early in the morning, when the fish are biting.”

He snorted, which threatened to break through the wall of his emotions. He couldn’t let them run free, or he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to do. “You remember that?”

“Of course I remember, Jack. We’ll have—what did you call it? A fish feast?”

“Fish fry. Yeah. We can invite all our friends.”

“We can have it at the palace. I think I owe Josie and Burke a visit. And Annie’s daughter, once you’ve rescued her. It will be a good day.”

Jack squeezed her hand. “And every day after that will be a good day. I love you.”

She stepped closer, and they kissed. Jack tried to commit every second of it to memory: the taste of her lips, the smell of her hair, the sound of the crickets as they began a chorus in the dying sunlight. There were too few seconds, and then she pulled back. “Lie to me, Jack,” she whispered. “Tell me you’ll be with me tomorrow.”

With a shaky voice, he said, “I’ll be with you tomorrow, Delcina.”

She smiled then, and turned to watch the last rays of the sun fading behind the hills, and wiped away another tear with the back of her hand. “Then it will be a good day.”

Jessabelle approached the excavation site at midnight. The ruins were ringed by lanterns, and her approach was followed by the two Wardens standing guard along their perimeter. They simply nodded as she arrived.

Jenny waited for her, flanked by Arlan and Callan. Grandma Annie hovered nearby. Callan chatted casually as if Jenny hadn’t just been through a horrible, disfiguring disaster. Although, as Jessabelle peered into the lantern light, Jenny seemed to have improved even since earlier that evening. It was tough to tell, as she still looked a little like a mummy in all her bandages. But the red, cracked flesh seemed more smooth and pink in the lantern light. Jessabelle shook her head and chalked it up to her own wishful thinking.

It was the bandage around Jenny’s eyes that made Jessabelle’s heart ache. Owen had privately told Jessabelle only an hour ago that bringing Jenny’s eyes back was beyond their ability. As much as Jenny tried to act positive in spite of the pain she had to be enduring, Jessabelle could feel the hollowness that Jenny was hiding within her.

She seemed more like she had been when Jessabelle had first met her, that night of the snallygaster attack: Lost. After that night, it felt like Jenny had found something. A quest, maybe. She’d gained family and friends. She’d found some little bit of belonging and happiness. Even when she kicked herself over mistakes, even when she’d been despondent over revealing information when mind-controlled by Taliel, she still had a fire inside her.

She probably still did, buried somewhere even deeper, behind the emptiness. Jessabelle wanted nothing more than to spend time with her cousin, help fan those flames again, and bring back the confident and sometimes headstrong girl Jenny had become over the last several weeks. And she would, eventually. It would just take a few days.

“Alas,” Callan said, standing and bowing with a dramatic flare. “I think this is the point where we must say goodbye.”

Arlan made no move to stand. “Indeed, it is. Goodbye, Callan.”

Jessabelle rolled her eyes. At least the two young men who had their eyes on her cousin were still showering her with attention one last time, no matter her condition. It’s probably what Jenny needed, although it made her squirm. Jenny was an expert at avoiding attention, but secretly craved it. At least that was Jessabelle’s working theory. Regardless, the last thing Jenny needed was to have been left alone, and Jessabelle couldn’t be there, as she was meeting with Ulster and other assorted bigwigs with the Wardens.

Jenny looked between the two, and said, “Hey, you guys… Thank you. I mean it.”

Arlan sighed and reluctantly stood. “I just wish we could have talked you into staying on this side.”

“Next time,” she said. Nobody, except maybe Jack, really believed there’d be a next time. And even Jack had seemed pretty depressed when Jessabelle had crossed his path after he had said goodbye to Delcina. Certainly Ulster and the rest of the Wardens seemed to believe that their actions would force another stalemate for hundreds of years.

It was okay. They had a big world to save. Jessabelle had a much smaller one.

Now came the hardest part. Jessabelle lowered her head and said, “Sorry for making you wait, Jenny. I ain’t going through the Crossroads with you.”

Grandma Annie clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! You can stay here with Lisbet and me, and maybe we can talk Jenny into staying here as well. She needs more healing before she’s ready to head back.”

Jessabelle shook her head. “I’m not staying here, either.”

It was hard to read Grandma Annie’s face in the darkness, even though Jessabelle could see in the dark better than most people. But she was pretty sure she heard her grandma’s jaw hit the ground. Before Annie could jump to the wrong conclusion, Jessabelle said, “I’m going with the Wardens to Blood Creek. I’m going on the raid.”

Annie knit her fingers together and shook her head. “No! No, you can’t. They don’t need you, and it would be dangerous even if you were a trained soldier. Did the Chief Warden talk you into being their guide?”

“No. I ain’t planning on going back through the Crossroads with the others. I’m going in as the cat. I’m staying out of the fighting, Grandma. Then I’m heading down to Maple Bend. I’m going to find my mama, and Hattie, and maybe that little necklace Hattie gave me that Jenny drew pictures of. I’m going to help Mama and Hattie escape.”

Jenny shrugged. “I don’t think that amulet will be of any use after tomorrow.”

Jessabelle said, “It’s at my house, anyway. I’ll fetch it if I can. I’ll bring Mama and Hattie to the Ankrums’. We should get there in four or five days.”

Grandma Annie’s stern glare bore into Jessabelle. “Your mama and Hattie are grown-ups and can take care of themselves. It’s too dangerous.”

Jessabelle steeled herself against the instinct to squirm, and stared back at her grandma. “One thing I’ve learned the last few months is that everybody needs help, no matter how young or grown-up they are. Part of that I learned from you. Look, I ain’t crazy. I’m just sneaking through as a cat in the middle of the fighting. Nobody will ever even know I was there.”

Grandma Annie lowered her gaze. “You’re right, Jessabelle. It’s my right to worry, but the truth is that you have done some amazing things. Sometimes I forget you ain’t the little girl I left behind those years ago. Now you’ll be leaving me, and I don’t know when I’ll be seeing you again. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

The warmth she felt for her grandma spread over Jessabelle’s whole body. “Of course, grandma. I’ll be careful. We’ll win this thing. You’ll see.”

Grandma Annie smiled. “I reckon we will, sweetheart.”

Jenny held out her hand. Her fingers poked out from the bandages. They were reddened, but absolutely better than they’d been when she had been drawing in the dirt hours earlier. It wasn’t just Jessabelle’s imagination. “Give me your protective necklace,” Jenny said. “I want to make sure they are, um…fully charged?”

Jessabelle pulled off the two amulets—one to protect her from physical damage, and the other to protect her from magic. “I’m going to be there as a cat, so they won’t protect me anyway.”

Jenny shrugged. “Look into my eyes and ask me if I care.”

“I can’t see your eyes.”

“Well. If you could, you’d know I don’t care.” Jenny’s tone didn’t suggest she was joking. She took the two amulets from Jessabelle, which she’d made two months earlier. “I borrowed a bunch of ingredients from Lisbet and Grandma Annie to take with us. I was going to make some more of these tomorrow for everyone, but you had to go and be special.”

Jessabelle was about to say something when Jenny began singing. “Angels surround me, angels protect me…”

When she was done, Jenny handed Jessabelle the two homemade amulets. “There. Good as new. Maybe even better.” Jessabelle opened her mouth to say something, but Jenny shook her head. “Go save Hattie and your mom, okay? I know you can do it. Just be careful, and I’ll see you at the Ankrums’ in a few days.”

“You be safe, too,” Jessabelle said, with a bit more force and meaning that she’d intended. “I’ll miss you.”

”You’ll be too busy to miss me,” Jenny answered with a weak, unconvincing smile.

* * *

Only a few Wardens were left behind with Lisbet Crane when the force left at dawn. They had already begun demolishing the excavation site and burying the Crossroads. Desperate to find some sliver of a bright side, Jessabelle smiled knowing that Burke would never need to be afraid of getting peaches again.

Owen acted as her traveling companion. During the short breaks in the march, they’d talk between gulps of water and mouthfuls of rations, but all too soon they’d be back on their feet marching back to Blood Creek. The pace was fast enough that they didn’t get much talking in. By early evening the second day, when they reached Hobbfield, Jessabelle felt both exhausted and lonely.

What had she done? Why was she doing this?

In Hobbfield, another force of nearly a hundred Wardens arriving from Fort Zellan joined them. In spite of having suffered a longer march, these soldiers seemed enthusiastic and more eager than the ones that had been under Crane’s command. They made a show of arriving in formation and falling out for a rest with almost clockwork precision. In this, they didn’t resemble the troops that had been at the fort when Jessabelle appeared through the one-way Crossroads. Those soldiers had paid with their lives for their laid-back approach, and this group seemed determined not to repeat that mistake.

She wasn’t sure when they’d be leaving again. Her group didn’t seem to be preparing to bed down for the night. Jessabelle idly wondered if Grandma Annie’s cottage was still there, and if anyone had claimed the bed.

“Do you reckon I could sneak away and change into the cat and back without anyone seeing me?” she asked Owen as the two of them leaned up against some farmer’s fence, drinking water and eating dried meat and even drier rolls. “My feet are killing me.”

He smiled. “Probably not. But if I had your ability to transform and heal like that, I might risk it. My feet are killing me, too.”

She smiled back. These were the first words they’d exchanged in over an hour. She thought about something else she could say to extend the conversation, but was interrupted by the sergeants calling for the troops to fall in. Owen sighed, and they helped each other stand up. It was much harder to stand now than it had been only a few minutes ago.

They marched all the way to the Crossroads. For the latter half of the journey, they used lanterns to guide them as they marched up the trail that paralleled the creek. The trail was practically a road, with ruts where innumerable wagons had gone up and down the mountains to supply the Wardens’ camp. She wondered if this paralleled what was happening on the other side of the Crossroads, where the Man in the White Suit had people constructing a new highway.

They reached the Crossroads shortly before midnight. All the surrounding trees for a hundred yards had been torn down, stripped, lashed together, and covered with mud and dirt to form a wall surrounding the tiny clearing. The surrounded area was lit by lanterns and magical lights almost as bright as morning daylight. Only one tree remained standing in the center of the field—an ancient dogwood tree where a fancy bottle of silver and glass served as the new, improved witch-bottle. Beside it, the Crossroads entrance was marked by two large painted stones on either side, wooden barricades, and painted lines across the brown dirt.

Three witches and three armed guards stood vigil over the tree. Hundreds of soldiers stood or sat on the platforms outside the wall, weapons at the ready. Beyond that, tents, lean-tos, and other temporary shelters littered the forest wherever there was a reasonably flat spot.

A female Warden with a sergeant’s insignia began shouting. “Jessabelle Rose! Which of you is Jessabelle Rose?”

Jessabelle raised her hand. It seemed strange the woman didn’t notice her, as she was the only one not in a Warden uniform. “Come with me, please,” she said to Jessabelle, and immediately began walking across the camp.

“What’s going on?” Jessabelle asked.

“You are the only one from the incoming group on tomorrow’s raid team. I’m taking you to your commanding—I mean, your supervisor.”

“Supervisor? I don’t have a supervisor.”

“If you are on the raid team, you report to someone.”

Not for long, Jessabelle thought.

The sergeant took her to a tent large enough to house a dozen people, and rapped on the support pole with her knuckles. Surprisingly, it made an audible clack. A familiar voice called out, “Enter!”

Leon.

Jessabelle nearly knocked the sergeant over rushing into the tent. It was well lit from a lantern hanging from the top of a support post in the center, and seemed almost spacious with six cots in a space that could easily hold ten. Currently, only one person was in the tent. Leon stood near the center support pole, breaking into a full smile as he saw Jessabelle. He barely had time to return the sergeant’s salute when Jessabelle hugged him.

“I guess introductions are not required,” the sergeant said.

“No, I think we’re covered. Thank you, sergeant.”

She nodded, saluted, and left. Leon shook his head as the tent flap rustled back into place. “Why does she salute me? I am not commissioned as anything in the Wardens. I’m just a civilian adviser.”

“You aren’t going on the raid, are you?” Jessabelle asked.

He sheepishly raised his shoulders. “I’m afraid so. I’m kind of leading it in an unofficial way. I hope to talk you out of participating, however.”

“Are you going to try to stop me?”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m only going to try to persuade you against it. Hell, for that matter, I’m against this whole operation. Something stinks about it, but I don’t know what. Maybe it’s just that I don’t relish the idea of putting a bullet in a lot of my former coworkers. Some of them, maybe.”

She squinted at him. “Then why are you going?”

“Because I know the Coven, and I may be the best person to determine if things are about to go pear-shaped before we suffer huge losses. Which brings me to the question of the hour. Why are you going? Although I think I can make a guess, and her name is Hattie.”

Jessabelle nodded. “Yeah. Her and my mom. I want to get them out of there.”

“I’m not going to be able to help you, you know. We’re in for just a few minutes, and then we’re out again, and the Crossroads are sealed up behind us.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.” Taking a deep breath, she said, ”I’m going to be long gone before y’all come back.”

“Okay. Well, I’m supposed to be in charge of you. Here’s the thing: You and I are the only ones who know about the Crossroads at the Ankrums’. That knowledge is a liability if we get captured.”

“They done sealed it up and buried it.”

“What can be buried can be unburied. And don’t forget that they’ll prioritize capturing you and me over killing us, for the sake of what they can do with our…parts.”

“I remember. Those weren’t blood tests they gave me when they were sticking me with needles.”

“Exactly. I guess what I am saying is ‘don’t let yourself get captured’. As far as threats, everyone else has been briefed, but you probably know what to expect as well as anyone. For certain, they have an ogre. Possibly a giant. They have the Dwayyo.”

“Not anymore. I set it free.”

“Free?” He shook his head. “Well, I suppose that’s slightly better than having it do the Coven’s bidding. That thing was hell to catch in the first place, though.”

“I didn’t have much choice.”

“I don’t doubt it. Anyway, that’s on top of the witches and whatever more troops the Coven has been able to muster. I don’t expect that they would be able to field another force that size so soon, but we have to be ready for it. And while they shouldn’t be expecting anything, I wouldn’t be surprised if the witches and anyone else near the Crossroads will be wearing armor and have magical protections. It’s only prudent.”

“I ain’t going to be shooting anyone, Leon.”

He stopped, and nodded. “Right. I’m sorry. I’m worrying about you now so I don’t have to worry about you when the fighting starts.”

“When is that?”

“During the next push against the seal. They have been pretty regular lately, starting around dawn. We are striking when we know there will be several alpha-level witches nearby. Anyway, we still have a few hours. Go ahead and grab a cot and get some sleep.”

She stepped forward and touched his arm. “Thanks, Leon. I’ll be fine. You’ve done a lot to protect me. I’m sure my papa would say the same thing.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you for saying so, Jessabelle. I appreciate it. But this hasn’t been about my debt to your father for a long time.”

It had been two days since they had returned through the Crossroads, and they had little to show for it. Not that Sean had come back out of any hope that he’d be able to stop Thadeus. He knew very well how dangerous Thadeus was, and did not want to face the Man in the White Suit again. Sean’s only reason for returning was for Debbie’s protection. The witch who had worn her face had earned the hatred of a number of powerful people Around the Bend.

His only ace in the hole—maybe—was the lurking spirit of the Dutch priest who might know the secret of destroying the Crossroads from the outside. That strategy hadn’t helped the old priest any. Thadeus had murdered the entire community and tortured Leendert to death.

Sean knew how to do research, however. He sat at Josie’s computer, staring at the useless search results from his list of ever weaker connections to Thadeus and the Coven. He’d gone far with internet research in school, but without getting out and doing some additional legwork, he hadn’t gotten very far in two days.

For the hundredth time since returning to Earth, he glanced at the blank screen of his phone sitting in a basket on the kitchen table. The temptation to call his sister or find out about his father’s condition was almost overwhelming. But with the authorities considering him a “person of interest” or whatever it was called, he didn’t dare even recharge the battery.

He checked a private message board that Josie had shown him where she and a few others anonymously exchanged cagily-worded messages about the Coven. It had originally been set up by a friend of Jessabelle’s who could also turn into a great cat, and he’d used it to coordinate with Josie. A few witches who remained beneath the Coven’s notice used it now, but there had been no messages in two weeks. They were scared.

Everything was coming up a dead end.

A knock at the door jolted him out of his reverie. Josie emerged from the living room, and waved for him to move around the corner. As quietly as possible, he vacated the chair at the kitchen table, and joined Debbie in the hall, out of view of the front door as Josie answered it.

The woman at the door sounded a little older than Jessabelle had described her. “I’m looking for Josie Ankrum,” the woman said.

“That’d be me,” Josie said, with what sounded to Sean like exaggerated casualness.

“Um, someone named Jessabelle sent me.”

“Are you Elise?”

“No. I’m Kendra, her friend. Did Jessabelle mention me?”

Josie didn’t offer a verbal answer that Sean could hear, but after a beat she said, “Come on in. Where is Elise?”

The front door closed, and the woman’s voice came from the entryway. “I should have listened to Jessabelle. But we were scared, and there was something killing people. I don’t know if she…um…” Kendra trailed off.

“She survived, if that’s what you are wondering,” Josie said. “But she ain’t here now. So why are you here without Elise?”

“It’s my fault. I talked Elise out of searching for you. I have a friend who took us in. Someone must have recognized her and called the cops or something. Next thing we know, while I’m off picking up some pizza for us for lunch, the police showed up and arrested her.”

Sean swore, and walked around the corner. “Elise had some data. A thumb drive, I think.”

Kendra nodded. “Yes. She bought a bunch of bright purple thumb drives and made copies of the data on them.”

“Did the police take them?”

Kendra nodded. “I don’t know. I might have been an idiot, but I wasn’t about to go back and take inventory or anything. I’m sorry.”

Sean lowered his head. “Then we’re screwed,” he said to Debbie. “We don’t have Elise or the data.”

Debbie cast him a glance, and he walked through the kitchen to meet Kendra. Debbie followed cautiously behind.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Sean. This is Debbie. We are friends of Jessabelle’s. Look, you know how important that data is, right?”

Kendra nodded an acknowledgement. “Important enough for people to kill for. Y’all know what to do with it if you got it?”

Sean shrugged. “I hope so.”

“I know where Elise sent one of them. I don’t know if they still have it, but they might.”

Sean looked up. “You do? Where?”

“KWVC. It’s a local TV station. She sent it to a couple other places, but I’m not sure which. She knew one of the reporters at KWVC, though. Penny Johnson.”

Josie said, “Oh, I recognize the name.”

“Yeah, she’s one of their reporters. Anyway, Elise sent one to her, but never heard back.”

Jack scratched his head. “So what, we just find this lady and ask if we can get that thingy back from her?”

Josie nodded. “Or ask her to make a copy.”

“Do you think she’d do that?” Debbie asked. “I mean, it’s not like she’d know us. Do you know her, Kendra?”

Kendra shook her head. “Nope. She’s a few years older than Elise, so it ain’t like they were friends from school or anything. My guess is that she never even looked to see what was on the drive.”

“Let’s find her,” Sean said. “I think she might talk to me, and I can convince her to help.”

“Why would she want to talk to you?” Josie asked.

“Because I’m a wanted man, right?”

After the long march of the last two days, Jessabelle could almost sleep through the sudden bustle just outside the tent. Almost. Some part of her tuned into the noise and jolted her awake with the ridiculous, nagging worry that she would be left behind.

In the dim morning light that seeped into the tent, she saw three other soldiers sleeping in cots around her. She didn’t remember hearing them come in during the night, but she couldn’t recall the last parts of her conversation with Leon, either. She had intended to talk to him about Elise, Gabriel, and Tara, but she had no memory of whether or not that had happened. Fatigue had claimed her.

Her whole body was still sore, but that would change when she became Jessabelle-the-cat. Hopefully. More importantly, she’d be cleaned up by the change, as right now she was feeling even grungier than usual. It took only seconds for her to throw on her remaining worldly possessions, including the jacket she’d hauled with her for two days.

She met Leon at the tent flap. He looked as surprised as she was. “You’re up,” he said quietly. “I was just coming to get you.”

She pointed at the wall framing the Crossroads. “Is it time?”

He nodded. “Just about. I just got done briefing the raid team about how to pass through the Crossroads successfully. It was really just a reminder of what I taught them yesterday. It occurred to me you’d be far better explaining it than I am. I don’t want to lose people on the way there, and I certainly don’t want to lose them on the way back. Are you up to it?”

“You want me to teach them how to go through?”

“Just share a couple of tips. Are you comfortable with that?”

Jessabelle’s eyes widened. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to explain it. I just do it. What did you teach them?”

“I repeated what I was taught by the Coven prior to our little commando strike. They drilled us.” He frowned and looked down. “I may have been under their control, but I remember everything. I’m sorry.”

She wrinkled her mouth in sympathy. “Hey, the same thing happened to me. I don’t blame you. I’ll try and say something. How soon do we leave after that?”

“Right away. Come with me.” He turned toward the wall, and Jessabelle walked beside him. The sun hadn’t quite emerged over the mountain tops, but the sky was bright enough to see clearly. That would make it harder for her to sneak away during the fighting. Leon continued talking as they walked. “The witches report that the daily breach effort began about fifteen minutes ago. It usually goes for about three hours, twice a day.”

“They are on a schedule? Like they show up for work each day at the same time?”

“Lately, yes. We’ve been on guard against them trying an off-schedule breach attempt, but so far none have happened.”

“Could they break through?”

“They’ve escalated the attacks significantly in the last two weeks. I don’t know if it’s because they brought more witches to bear, or they have found a better way to attack the seal through the Crossroads. If we didn’t actively oppose them, they could probably bring down the seal in a day or two.”

Jessabelle’s eyes widened. “That fast?”

“Yeah. It’s keeping half the Wardens’ witches fully engaged. That’s why we are doing this.”

As they grew close to a large group of armed and readied soldiers, Jessabelle asked, “Will you know the witches on the other side? The ones we’re going to kill?”

“Some,” he said quietly. “Guaranteed.”

He introduced Jessabelle to the raid team, stating, “This young woman has been through the Crossroads more than any other person alive today.” That wasn’t true, Jessabelle thought, remembering Jenny’s condition. She hoped she’d see her cousin soon.

Leon continued. “She’s here to answer any questions you might have about traveling through, and what the terrain looks like on the other side. Remember, exactly five minutes after we go through, our witches will be bringing the seal down for only one minute to let you return. You all have timepieces and an exit partner. Watch your partner, and watch your squad leader. We don’t want you to be stuck on the other side.”

Mercifully, the troops did not have many questions, but she did have something to add. “Hey, y’all. Leon. I just thought of something. Jenny discovered that time passes in the Crossroads that we don’t notice while we’re going through. It’s just under thirty seconds. I reckon that means that y’all only have four and a half minutes, not five. If you wait too long, like more than thirty seconds I guess, you might get trapped.”

Leon scowled. “It takes thirty seconds to cross over? What about on the way back?”

Jessabelle considered. “I don’t know what happens if you go into the Crossroads when it is unsealed, but then it’s sealed before you come back out again. Maybe you come through, maybe you bounce back out, maybe…something else.” Thinking of Jenny’s scars, she suppressed a shudder before the soldiers could see it. “So there’s that.”

She thought she was just giving good advice. She wasn’t prepared for the sudden chaos that erupted. It started as a ripple, the soldiers looking at each other and whispering, which then grew louder as the soldiers called out questions she thought she’d just addressed, like, “So how long do we have?” and “So is it five minutes or four minutes?” Before she could answer one question, someone would ask a second, and nobody knew which one she was answering.

Leon raised his hand and said, “Strike Team, please hold your questions for the moment. Until I say otherwise, nothing has changed from our briefing and our drills. Squad leaders, please resume your drills for now.” Three Warden officers turned and marched toward her, and Leon turned with a frown and asked quietly, “What the hell was that about? Thirty seconds? What is that?”

Jessabelle backed away. “That’s just something Jenny explained to me before I left. Min even helped her time it. Maybe it’s different for this one, but that was the timing for the other Crossroads.”

The other three Wardens—two women and a man—caught the latter part of this discussion and glared at Leon. “Did I do something wrong?” Jessabelle asked.

“No. It’s not that,” Leon said. “This is just news to us. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I didn’t know about your five-minute plan, Leon. I just reckon y’all ought to be really careful about the timing.”

One of the officers shook her head. “We drilled for three days for the five-minute window. Reducing it to four and a half minutes is going to cause confusion and difficulty. Then cutting the egress window to only thirty seconds—we’re going to lose people.”

The other two officers nodded their assent, and Leon joined them. “You are absolutely right. We’ve just added some serious complications to an already complicated operation. We need to consult with the witches.”

The other female officer shook her head and pointed past the wall. “They are all occupied right now holding off the breach attempt.”

Leon exhaled deeply. “Okay. There are two issues right now. Let’s stick with what we’ve drilled. We’ll delay the unsealing by thirty seconds. And then if the witches can extend the unsealed window to ninety seconds, nothing will change on our end.”

“Except we increase the chance of a successful counter-attack,” the male officer stated. “The sixty second window was chosen as the maximum we could reasonably leave the gateway unsealed with a minimal risk. That extra thirty seconds greatly increases our exposure.”

“Does it, though?” Leon asked. “If it takes thirty seconds to traverse?”

The first officer said, “We need to get authorization, and we need to have this communicated to the witches if the plan is approved.” She looked up at the sky. “And we need to do it fast, because this is quickly turning into a daylight raid.”

A few minutes later Chief Warden Ulster stormed toward them, accompanied by another Warden of Commander rank. After a quick exchange of salutes, he said, “Can someone please explain to me why the raid isn’t already complete? The sun will be over the mountains any second now.”

Leon explained the situation, and Ulster turned to Jessabelle. “You timed this?”

“No, my cousin did. Jenny, the one who was burned.”

“Blast. Mr. Poulson, do you have proposals?”

“Two,” Leon said. “The first is that we postpone this operation until we’ve got a better idea of what we are dealing with. Perhaps gathering experimental data?”

“No. That’s no longer an option, and we can’t afford to delay any longer.”

“Then we modify the witches’ schedule to match the delay. Remove the seal at five minutes thirty seconds, keep it down for a full ninety seconds instead of one minute.”

Ulster turned to the commander and nodded. The commander saluted and said, “I’ll see that it happens.” Ulster turned back to Leon and the other officers, and said, “Get your people in position. I expect you back in ten minutes.” Another exchange of salutes took place, and the officers returned to the raid team to issue instructions and move to the Crossroads.

To Jessabelle, Leon said, “Your information might have saved a lot of people today.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”

Leon looked at the sky, then walked around the wall toward the Crossroads, following the soldiers. “Better late than never. I recommend giving us about one minute, and then following up behind us.”

She grinned. “Just make sure nobody steps on the cat.”

“Will do.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to miss you. I hope that some day we’ll meet again, on whichever side of the Crossroads we choose.”

“Fifteen seconds,” a Warden called, focusing on a timepiece in his hand. Leon unslung his rifle, and rushed to the front of the raid team. They stood in rows, lined up before the area marked with painted stones. They readied themselves with swords and bows, with the front rank readied with rifles and bayonets. Five of the raiders were armed with modern rifles like Leon’s.

“Five seconds…” The Warden called, and then, “Go!” The raiders surged forward, disappearing as they crossed between the painted stones. All except three. Mysteriously, three soldiers went nowhere at all, looking confused as they found themselves alone on the field.

“Go back around!” a Warden called. “Remember your training!”

The soldiers turned, still looking lost and confused. At the Warden’s reminders, they circled around the stones, returned to the “front” of the Crossroads, readied their weapons again, and pushed forward. All three disappeared as they crossed the threshold.

Jessabelle approached the Warden who had given them the instructions. “What was that? Why didn’t they go through?”

The Warden shrugged. “That was part of Poulson’s training. If you get too focused on things directly in front of you, the gateway won’t take you.”

“I never thought that was a possibility.”

“Just don’t worry about it and it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Jessabelle rolled her eyes. “Great, now I can’t do anything but worry about it.”

It was time. She stood in front of the Crossroads. “I’ve done this several times,” she told herself. “No problem.” She knew what a scene of battle looked like, although she also knew it was different every time. In moments, she’d be only a few miles from home, and she would find her mother and Hattie.

“Home,” she said out loud. In a flash, she was Jessabelle-the-cat, and she leaped into the Crossroads.

Jessabelle found herself on dry land. The smoke-filled air stank of gunpowder that overpowered every other scent. The terrain confused her, because she wasn’t facing the swampy pond she’d encountered in June. Between the season and human intervention damming and re-routing the water, it barely resembled the place she’d known. At least the mosquitoes were long gone.

Tents ringed the clearing, and generators filled the air with the constant grinding sound of motors, punctuated by the occasional cry or gunshot.

Several of the raid team, including Leon, stood near the Crossroads. Leon and two others crouched behind a generator powering lights flooding the immediate area. Several bodies littered the ground, but none wore the uniform of the Wardens. It looked like the raid was successful thus far, but the death still didn’t sit well with her, no matter how many battles she’d seen. It was too easy to envision friends and family members among the dead.

Leon took note of her and said aloud, “Jessabelle, several of the Coven have fled into the forest. Be careful. It’s not safe.” The two other Wardens behind the generator looked at him strangely, but he ignored them. “Something is wrong. This wasn’t a battle; it was a massacre. It doesn’t make sense that they’d have so few defenses. Just be careful.”

She picked her way cautiously across the battlefield. Only one of the bodies appeared armed. Jessabelle-the-girl, somewhere in the back of her mind, wanted to retch. Fortunately, the cat had a stronger presence of mind and more of an immunity to the emotion of disgust.

Just before she reached the line of tents, she came across another body, and real horror grabbed her, sending her feline senses into fight-or-flight mode. Jessabelle-the-girl wanted to scream.

The face of the dead girl was frozen in an expression of fright and disbelief. Her pink, silky blouse—entirely impractical for hiking through the woods—was wet and dark where blood poured around the arrow that had gone through her back and now poked out through her chest. Her makeup, stark against the pale bloodless face, was perfect.

Even though Jessabelle knew how Chrissy King had betrayed Sean, and how mean and dismissive the older girl had been when they were growing up, Jessabelle had never wished something like this on her. While she was no doubt serving the Man in the White Suit enthusiastically, she wasn’t a combatant.

Were any other neighbors or acquaintances among the bodies?

She didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to know. She ran into the woods, paralleling a dirt road that had emerged from the path she and her friends had taken weeks ago. She didn’t want any part of this. She just wanted to get Hattie and her mama and flee. Maybe back down to Georgia, or some other place far away from Maple Bend.

* * *

Two hours later, Jessabelle arrived in Maple Bend. The sagging roof of the Castos’ barn still showed damage from where the snallygaster had landed months ago. Weeds surrounded the “For Sale” sign in front of the house beside it. Shortly beyond that, she got a better view of her community from her vantage point on the hill—and barely recognized it.

New construction was everywhere. The dirt road she’d followed joined the main road into Maple Bend, where workers operated heavy machinery to turn it into a fully paved road along the creek.

Could people actually drive a truck through the Crossroads? Or something bigger? It boggled her mind, but clearly this was the intent. That, or they could drive people and materials up to the Crossroads, to be unloaded and then moved across on foot. That part of Jack’s information checked out. If true, then perhaps as terrible as the raid was, perhaps it really was necessary. Thadeus could carry out an invasion and supply people and guns much faster than the Wardens could reinforce their defenses.

But where would Thadeus get the people and the guns? The Coven was organized and powerful, but there was no way it could provide a lot of soldiers like the commandos that had followed her Round the Bend. That part didn’t make sense.

Soon, she saw Hattie’s double-wide mobile home and, a bit beyond and below it, the church. It felt like a breath of normality, and for a moment she thought she could ignore all the changes and imagine that everything she’d experienced for the last four months was a dream. For a moment, the thought tantalized her, even though it was patently impossible. What was done was done. Thadeus and his Coven had already proven they would never leave her or her family alone.

While she wanted to visit Hattie as soon as possible, she had a more important place to go. After five minutes, she arrived home. She hadn’t seen it since the morning of her birthday, and she knew if she’d been Jessabelle-the-girl, she would have started to cry. Once again, she was almost overcome by a wish that everything could go back to the way it had been before the day they’d encountered the snallygaster. Even though she remembered how painful it had all been, and how much she’d hated her life, it had been so much simpler then, just a few months ago.

She circled around the house to the spot just below her window. Many times, she’d snuck in this way, where the trees and other houses blocked the view. She just had to make sure the Martins across the way weren’t looking out their window, and she could transform here without risk of being seen. Assuming the Coven wasn’t still surveilling her house.

In a flash, she was Jessabelle-the-girl again, standing next to her window. While she knew the trick of popping the latch from the outside, it wasn’t necessary. She quietly slid the window open, and pulled herself into her bedroom.

It was all very close to how she’d left it in July. She opened one drawer, revealing a favorite shirt. A stylized unicorn graced the front, all rainbow-hued outlines with rays or something radiating from its horn. Very girly. Very thirteen. Very not what she wanted to wear now that she’d learned the terrible truth about unicorns. She slid the drawer shut.

Her jewelry box held very few items, as she’d never had pierced ears and owned very little jewelry. The locket Hattie had given her, with the fun Irish-looking loops, still sat where she’d left it. It didn’t seem magical, and Hattie would probably have noticed if it was. But Jenny had drawn a shape like it in the dirt, so it was worth investigating. If nothing else, she had recovered one of the few possessions she really wanted to keep. She hooked the locket’s chain around her neck, and opened the door.

She heard a game show playing in the living room. She peeked around the corner of the tiny hall. Her mother sat in a chair, staring at the TV screen without any sign of emotion. At least she seemed alone. Jessabelle stepped through the hall and stopped at the living room entryway. “Mama?” she called quietly.

Her mother turned her head, raising her eyebrows in mild surprise. “Jessabelle, is school out already? Or is today Saturday? I keep forgetting.”

“Mama? Do you know what happened to me?”

“Why, dear? Do you need me to make you lunch? What time is it?”

Jack had told her what happened to Mrs. Casto when she’d been bewitched by Evelyn. As far as Jessabelle could tell, the same thing had happened to her mama. Did she not realize that Jessabelle had been gone for three months? Had she forgotten how she’d betrayed her daughter, and signed her over to the Coven? Was there a duplicate Jessabelle now living in the home pretending to be her?

“Mama, do you remember what happened?” Jessabelle walked in front of the TV.

Her mama craned her neck to try and look around her. “Honey, my show!” she said. Jessabelle turned around, and realized she didn’t recognize the TV. It was a newer model. A nice flat-screen high-definition thing. Something her mother had trouble affording, which had forced them to get everything used. Jessabelle turned off the TV and faced her mother.

“Now you turn that TV back on this instant, young woman!” her mama cried.

Jessabelle knelt down in front of her mama, grabbing her hands in her own. “Mama, look at me!” Jessabelle cried. “Please.”

Her mama slowly turned her eyes to Jessabelle’s. They gradually regained focus. As they did, her mouth opened as if she was in the middle of saying something, and she blinked several times. “Jessabelle? Jessabelle, what’s happening?”

“I’m home, mama! What happened to you?”

“Oh, Jessabelle!” She leaned forward in her chair and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “I was afraid I’d never see you again! I’m so sorry. They told me the police were going to come and take you away for murder. I was so confused. Will you ever forgive me?”

Jessabelle didn’t know what she’d say. For weeks, she dreamed of her mother saying these words, or words like it, but never thought she’d hear it. She just wanted to savor it for a moment. “It’s okay, mama,” she said, and then couldn’t help it when she felt tears come.

For nearly a minute, they said nothing, but embraced each other, her mama gently rocking back and forth. Finally, her mama let her go, and said, “You feel real.”

Jessabelle tilted her head, looking at her mama. “What do you mean?”

“I tried to fix things, sweetie. I contacted lawyers, trying to get you back from those people. And then one of the—oh, she called herself a representative—of the group said she wanted to discuss things with me. She assured me that you were fine, and they’d be bringing you back to me, but under supervision. And then she did something to me.”

“She bewitched you.”

Her mother closed her eyes and nodded. “It ain’t like I could be married to your papa and not know about these things. I didn’t always believe it, but I knew his family did. But then, I thought you’d come back. I was convinced—no. I wanted to believe you were back, like she promised. I’d look for you and you were never here, but I kept remembering you being here, like remembering a dream. Every morning I’d remember spending time with you—what we had for dinner, what we watched on TV. Part of me suspected, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I was afraid, so I let myself believe it. Until now. It was nothing like having you here, right now.”

“I’m here now, mama. I’ve been staying with Grandma Annie. She’s alive, mama!”

“Annie? Where?” Her eyebrows narrowed. “No, don’t tell me. You gotta go back, Jessabelle. It ain’t safe for you here.”

“I’m taking you with me, mama. You, me, and Hattie. We’ve got to get out of here. I know a place we can go.”

“No, Jessabelle. That ain’t possible. They’re watching me. They might even know you are here already.”

“Then we run! Quickly! Don’t grab your stuff, just meet me at Hattie’s.”

“Jessabelle, Hattie is dead.”

“What?” Jessabelle’s body went cold. She couldn’t have heard that correctly.

“I’m sorry. We don’t know how. They say she died in her sleep, but I don’t believe it. They brought in some medical examiner and everything, and he said she died of natural causes. I don’t believe that, either. We had the funeral service for her a week or so ago, down in the church. Harris even had some nice things to say about her. I mean, we all knew they were friends, even though he sometimes acted like he hated her.”

“No,” Jessabelle said. “There was a mistake. The Man in the White Suit is good at faking deaths, and you were bewitched. She ain’t really dead.”

“I know what you are thinking. And I wish you were right. I know I ain’t been in my right mind of late, but this much I do know. She’s gone. And now you gotta go, too, before they discover you. I don’t know why, but they want you. They even had pictures of you on the TV like you were a criminal. Go back to Annie. Hide until this blows over or something.”

“I can’t go back, mama. I came here to save you and Hattie.”

Tears ran down her mama’s cheeks now. “Oh, sweetheart. You being here, just now, is what I needed. Knowing you are safe is all I need. I won’t need those dreams anymore.”

“But what about me? I need to know you’re safe!”

Her mama patted her on the arm. “I wish I could make you a promise. Maybe when things change, and they don’t care about either of us anymore, we can both escape. But I can’t hide and run like you can. I don’t have your youth or your strength or your…well, your other abilities. And if they see me trying to leave, they’ll follow. You gotta do this on your own for now. Just remember I love you, and I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry too, mama. I’ll be back to get you. We’ll stop the Man in the White Suit once and for all, and then maybe you, me, and Annie can be together with Jenny and everyone.” Everyone but Hattie. She still couldn’t believe that Hattie could be dead.

“I believe you. If anyone can, the Rose women can pull it off. I got faith in you. Now git! Please, before it’s too late!”

After Jessabelle slipped out through her bedroom window as Jessabelle-the-cat, she took a circuitous route to Hattie’s home. As far as she could tell, nobody saw her. She didn’t see anyone at all. It was like a quiet Sunday morning, but nobody was at church.

There had to be a way to get her mama out of Maple Bend without being seen. Especially on a day like today. Maybe the attack had distracted everyone. It was the perfect opportunity—but that didn’t mean the Coven wasn’t keeping an eye on the roads. She’d purposefully disregarded thoughts about—what was the term Lisbet used? “Logistics.” She hadn’t thought about the logistics of escape. In the back of her mind, she imagined she’d just have to talk to Hattie. Hattie would know what to do. Hattie always knew what to do. That’s why she’d gone to see Hattie when the snallygaster attacked. Hattie would come up with something.

Hattie couldn’t be dead. It wasn’t that Jessabelle didn’t believe her mother. It was that she wouldn’t believe her own eyes if she saw Hattie dead. It didn’t seem possible. She wanted proof.

There wasn’t much to be found at Hattie’s home. While it wasn’t very hot yet today, her windows were closed and there was no whir of the air conditioner. It was exactly like when she’d left for several weeks to stay with Jenny at the end of the school year, except weeds had overrun her herb garden.

She fought the temptation to change into Jessabelle-the-girl and knock on the door. Of course, no one would answer. But maybe? Wasn’t that worth putting up with a little bit of extra hunger? Could there be a tiny chance that Hattie was there after all, sleeping in, maybe under the weather and unable to tend her garden, and that everyone had been mistaken about her funeral? Or maybe the door had been left unlocked, and Jessabelle could go inside and…do what, exactly? Say goodbye? Possibly while on camera by the Coven?

Maybe—maybe—she wasn’t dead. Like Annie, she’d escaped, and somehow everyone just assumed she was dead. Or the Coven faked her death and had her imprisoned somewhere. Those were at least slightly plausible. Either way, Hattie wasn’t home. Hattie would not be coming home. Hattie couldn’t help…

Jessabelle had been through this before. She knew better, or should have known better. She remembered her mother’s tearful explanation to her little girl that her daddy wasn’t coming back from his trip. Not ever. Yet every time someone came through the front door, someone in uniform come to express regrets, or someone to help them move a box onto the truck, she’d rush to see if it wasn’t actually her papa home with the world’s biggest surprise. It had all been a mistake…

And then it had happened. Not with her papa, but with her grandma. Annie had been alive this whole time? But then, nobody had known what had happened to her. She had simply disappeared one day. They never held a funeral. Over time, everyone simply started referring to her in the past tense, and just assumed her death. It was different.

She didn’t want to face it. She didn’t want to return to Josie’s home empty-handed, without her mama, without Hattie, without even any information as to what was happening here in her home. No useful information, anyway.

She glanced down the hill at the top of the church. Preacher Harris had spoken at the funeral. He’d helped them before. Did he know anything about what happened? She didn’t fully trust him. But maybe there was something more she could learn. How did Hattie really die? Was there anything they could do in Maple Bend to get the Coven out? Was there proof that they were committing crimes? She hoped that Elise would have that information, but there were no guarantees.

She set off down the hill to the church. As the cat, she took her own short cut, down the steep incline and through part of the graveyard. Her path took her along the cottage behind the church where the Preacher lived. Harris sat in a plastic chair, unshaven, watching her progress from the slab of concrete that served as his back porch.

Jessabelle changed direction to approach him. He slowly closed the book he was reading—not the Bible, but a tome of nearly the same size, and took off his reading glasses. She stopped short of the concrete, staring at him. He stared back, raising an eyebrow.

“You know, when I was younger, I worried that a black cat crossing my path was bad luck,” he said. “I went to school and rejected those old superstitions. Now? Well, these days I’m not entirely sure what to believe anymore.” He paused for a second, as if expecting her to speak. Then he said, “Before she died, Hattie told me that if I ever saw a black cat here in Maple Bend, it would be good luck, and I should make sure it stayed safe. She never told me why, but I’ve got some guesses. More superstition, maybe. So, cat, are you good luck or bad luck?”

Even if she could speak in this form, she wouldn’t have an answer. At least he had just confirmed that Hattie had died, but she’d have to change forms to ask for more detail. Did she dare do this now? Hattie trusted him with some information, and Jessabelle was reasonably convinced he was on their side. Mostly. Probably.

She sat and waited. He shifted his book around, half opened it, and then closed it again. His shoulders slumped. “My wife believed this would be a good move for us. It was quiet. The people needed us out here. When she died, I thought she was wrong, and this had been the greatest mistake of my life. Some days, especially this summer, I am more sure of it than ever. Other days—I don’t know. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

He seemed to be done talking for now. Jessabelle cocked her head to the left, still staring at him. He fiddled with his book some more, and then rolled his eyes. “Now I know I’m losing my mind. I’m talking to a cat. But the way things are going—the whole world is going crazy. Or maybe it’s just here, but it feels like everything. All I have left is my faith. People look to me for answers, and I don’t have many of those. All I can offer is comfort. Do you understand me, cat?” He glanced around suspiciously, and said, “If there’s a person in there who can understand me, nod twice or something like that.”

Was it Hattie’s death that had left him so broken? That seemed unlikely, even with all the changes of the last four months. She bobbed her head up and down to answer his request.

His eyebrows rose. “That actually looked like… Maybe it was a coincidence.”

Jessabelle hoped her eye-roll was enough to convince him. It was a distinctly un-feline thing to do. Without the threat of doom over their heads, communicating with him could be a fun game.

Harris sighed. “This isn’t how things are supposed to work in this country. They aren’t even trying to keep things a secret from us anymore. Some of us have been directly threatened. We know people have disappeared. We know others have been run off property that has been in their family for generations, forced to sell for next to nothing. Botch King and his people brought two of the county commissioners and a bunch of bigwigs from the state here for a big event. They warned me not to raise a stink, or there would be consequences. I’m not an idiot. I know where most of the money in the collection plate comes from. I know who runs the committee that hired me and keeps me on.”

He set the book to the side, and shook his head. “I decided it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t help them maintain the lies. A bunch of us decided that when the government bigwigs were here, we’d have a protest, give them evidence they couldn’t deny. We’d force them to investigate what’s been going on with that awful man in the white suit. Hattie, Walter, me, Jaime, the Pike brothers from Branton, and a couple others. We had it all planned out. We had photographs, paperwork, even a couple of copies of legal documents.”

He shifted in his chair and looked down at the ground. When he looked back at Jessabelle, he seemed surprised to still see her there. With an edge of weariness to his voice, he said, “I’ll spoil the ending. It didn’t happen. Least not the way we intended. Walter, Jaime, and I were the only ones who showed up. In all the commotion, something happened to us. When we finally got a chance to speak to them, our mouths were filled with lies. All we had was praise for the new road and for all the new job opportunities it would bring in. Praised Botch up one side and down the other. They did something terrible to us.”

He stood. “When we went to check on Hattie the next day, she was dead in her trailer. Natural causes, they said. She was much younger and healthier than me, and I’m in pretty good shape, all things considered. No. It wasn’t natural causes. If you find me dead in the next few days, it won’t be natural causes, either.” He nodded up the road. “Something big is going on this morning, but I’m no spy. If I was, I’d be sneaking on up to Botch King’s house right now and finding out what they are talking about, because I saw a bunch of cars head past the church up that way about twenty minutes ago.”

Jessabelle stared at him. He picked up the book and tucked it under his arm, and stared back at her. “So, did I just waste the last five minutes talking to an ordinary cat?”

Jessabelle’s tail twitched. She wanted to find some way to thank the preacher, but nothing would else she could think of would be appropriate. She sprang off in the direction of Botch King’s home.

The reporter still hadn’t responded to the email. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet, but Jack could tell Sean was getting antsy. He couldn’t blame Sean. For three days, Jack’s own frustration grew. When he’d made the decision to leave Delcina, it was on the assumption that he’d be able to do something. Take action. Fight giants. Sitting on Josie’s couch, eating her food and watching TV, wasn’t his idea of taking action.

The hills beyond Josie’s house called to him to explore them, but he’d resisted only because he’d expected Elise to appear any minute. He and his friends would then have to spring to action and…

Well. Spring to action and do something.

With Elise arrested and that hope dashed, he didn’t have much more keeping him sitting on his butt. It wasn’t like the news had anything worth watching.

He got up and paced, leaving Debbie to watch TV alone. He wandered into the kitchen, where Sean sat in front of Josie’s computer and browsed the Web while refreshing his email account every minute in hopes of a response from Penny. Every once in a while he’d get excited, and then grumble about how quickly “spam-bots” had discovered his new account.

Jack peered out through the window, watching the wind blow at the little dream catchers and wind chimes hanging over the porch. It was nearly lunch time, but he wasn’t hungry. He wondered if Delcina was back in Sanguine yet. Probably not. It would take her at least a week to get there. Then she’d arrive, secure her throne, and become Queen Delcina. With Jack gone, there’d be men lining up to be her king-consort. Eventually, she’d marry, have children, and…

Jack had to get out of the house. Now. He couldn’t take it anymore. He turned to the front door just as Debbie cried out, “Sean! Jack! Everyone! Come in here, now!”

Jack rushed into the living room as Debbie turned up the volume on the remote, but the caption on the news screen said it all. “Violent Attack Leaves Several Dead Near Branton, West Virginia.” The voice-over, increasing in volume with Debbie’s button-push, said, “We just received these videos moments ago. We must warn you; the imagery is graphic.”

Blurred pixels covered the faces of everyone in the video, but Jack recognized the Warden uniforms caught on the camera feeds. The video didn’t show where the soldiers came from. It just showed an encampment with people milling about, doing nothing overtly hostile, and then suddenly collapsing and running as armed soldiers appeared, shooting everyone they could find. As far as Jack could tell, there were no witches among the victims, but there were several camera angles and not all of them were shown.

He couldn’t help but feel rage rising inside him. What the hell were the Wardens doing? Why were they targeting civilians? Some of the people shot were wearing hard hats, possibly construction workers doing something with the efforts to build the road or survey the area. Why would the Wardens target them?

He reminded himself it was because they didn’t know. It’s not like the bad guys wore uniforms anyway. How would they know the difference between a plastic hard hat and a military helmet? But even knowing the Wardens and knowing why they attacked and who they were fighting, Jack’s horrified reaction to the video spoke volumes.

“Oh, those idiots. What have they done?” Sean asked.

“What are we seeing?” Jenny asked. She had trouble watching television. She could see people and the world around her pretty well. Sometimes she could see people with a scary amount of detail and insight, if not always accuracy. But she couldn’t make out images on the television screen or on computers very well.

“It’s the Wardens,” Debbie said. “Shooting first, asking questions later.”

“Nobody’s fighting back,” Jack said. “At least not that they are showing.”

One of the anchors said, “The footage you are seeing has already been provided to state and local authorities. The Governor’s office has just announced that he will be making a statement shortly.”

The commentary and speculation continued, with segments from the videos played repeatedly. Suddenly there was nothing else newsworthy to discuss. They connected it to the ogre and snallygaster stories from June, claiming that those events were an elaborate hoax that even convinced some law enforcement personnel. They speculated its connection to a number of deaths and disappearances in the region. They showed pictures of Jessabelle and Sean, listing them as ‘wanted for questioning’.

When they brought in a university professor who said it was a clear example of “Native-born extremists who have turned to terrorist attacks” which he’d been warning of for years, Jack stormed out of the room. He fumed, pacing the floor, reconsidering his exploratory hike outside while half-listening to everything the news got wrong, until the governor of West Virginia gave a five-minute speech urging the need for calm, that emergency services were engaged, and that a full investigation had already been launched.

“We have been in contact with federal authorities. Our first priority is to protect the lives and safety of our citizens, and we will be taking advantage of our resources at local, state, and federal level to prevent a recurrence of this senseless violence.”

The news went on to rehash what it had been talking about for the last twenty minutes, and Debbie asked, “So, is this a good thing or a bad thing? I mean, if the authorities are up in Blood Creek conducting an investigation, that means the Man in the White Suit can’t keep attacking the Crossroads, right?”

Josie sighed. “It puts Jessabelle and Sean in greater danger, since they think y’all are involved.”

Sean said, “I’ll take it, if it means it stops Thadeus for a while.”

“It won’t,” Jack said. “Or at least, it won’t inconvenience him more than it helps him. That attack was this morning. They had cameras all set up in the right locations to show an attack. They didn’t waste any time getting this to the press. I don’t know how these things are supposed to be done, but it sure sounds like they were ready for this, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Sean said. “But with this turning into a government investigation, it might mean Thadeus has to keep things quiet for a while to keep things secret.”

“Maybe, but parts of the government already know about monsters,” Josie said. “Leon told me they hire the Coven to get rid of monsters. This is what they’ve shown the press. They’ll probably show everything to the authorities.”

Sean sighed. “I guess after the ghosts attacked them two months ago, they wanted to be ready in case it happened again.” A sound from Josie’s computer caught his attention, and he walked back into the kitchen to check on it.

“It sounds like things just escalated,” Jenny said quietly.

Josie snorted. “You think?”

“I think the Wardens may have made a very bad mistake.”

“Looks like.”

Sean called back from the kitchen. “Penny responded. She has a lot of questions and wants to know how I know about the thumb drive. She wants to meet in person.”

Jack turned. “Does she know who you are?”

“Not yet. What do you think?”

Josie looked at the imagery on the screen from the Warden attack. “I think things just got desperate.”

Jessabelle-the-cat arrived at the King home just as people were leaving. Five luxury vehicles were parked in the driveway, four sports utility vehicles and a four-door BMW. Drivers sat in the SUVs, although none seemed to be paying too much attention. Jessabelle moved stealthily around the side of the house, slinking through the bushes. She wished the Kings had been a little more lax in their weeding and pruning, as she still felt exposed as extra shadow lurking between the dark green leaves and the brown bark mulch.

She drew as near to the front door as she could, but could find no open windows or ways of spying on what was happening inside. It had been a nice idea from Preacher Harris, but utterly impractical, just like her half-baked rescue idea. There was nothing she could do. She waited for ten minutes, watching the drivers look even more bored than she was.

Just as she resigned herself to waiting hours for the meeting to break up, the front door opened. She couldn’t see the door or the porch without giving herself away, but her feline ears could hear everyone quite clearly as a group of people stepped out the door. She heard Botch King’s voice say, “Thank you all for coming and letting us know.”

The next voice was just as unmistakable. The Man in the White Suit answered, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Botch. If we’d even imagined that they would be capable of such a barbaric attack, we’d never have allowed your beautiful daughter or anyone else to be up there. This has been a devastating day for us all, but naturally so much worse for you and your dear wife.”

Several other voices, male and female, made appropriate sympathetic words and phrases all at once. It was a bizarre little chorus. Botch answered, voice breaking, “You’ll bring her down off the mountain?”

“Of course. Along with everyone else. We will take care of anything you need. Besides securing the safety of everyone, our biggest priority is assisting those families who have lost loved ones today. It is a terrible loss. After that, I will personally see to bringing those responsible to justice. But that’s why we need your help. And we need you to convince your wife to help, too.”

“Why today? We just lost Chrissy! Can we get a few days?”

“We could do that, sure. But those few days might make all the difference in whether we catch those murderers. We need government support, and for that, we need a public outcry. The reporters are on their way here right now. I know it’ll be hard, but we absolutely need you and your wife to speak to them and make sure everyone hears your story tonight.”

“Are you sure that boy, Sean, was part of it? He dated Chrissy, you know.”

“We won’t know anything for certain until we have a full investigation, which I hope will start in a matter of hours. Talk to the reporters, and make sure everyone knows how important it is that nothing like this ever happens again, and that no other families will suffer like yours has.”

“We’ll do it. Look, Thadeus, I know you and I haven’t seen eye-to-eye all the time…”

“Water under the bridge, Botch. Look, now ain’t the time…”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. And thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. Look, you go back inside. You and your wife need time to deal with things in private before the press arrives. You just take care of this thing, and let us handle everything else for a while, okay?”

There were more comments from the chorus, and then the door closed. A group of eight people, Thadeus and others trailing and surrounding him, descended from the porch past Jessabelle’s concealment point and walked along the stone path to the driveway. As they reached the cars, the woman closest to Thadeus with long brown hair braided down her back nodded at the house. “It’s too bad. I had my eye on Chrissy. She could have been a real asset to the Coven. We don’t have many with Spirit Sight.”

Thadeus chuckled. “You shouldn’t have any with Spirit Sight. I don’t like ‘em, you know that. Besides, I actually listened to your report. She was dangerous and a loose cannon. Your words.”

“I know. But I’d hoped that with time and training, she’d become a valuable asset.”

“She’s ten times more valuable now. I mean, some local yokels and a couple of construction workers as victims of a terrorist attack are one thing. But you put up pictures of that pretty young thing, so full of life and hope and dreams, all over the national news, and the public is gonna work themselves up into a frenzy. They are going to see themselves and their daughters as potential victims, and will give the government all the cover they need.”

One of the men in the group asked, “Cover? What do you mean?”

Thadeus made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and rolled his eyes. “Dickerson? Seriously? Try and catch up. Now, I ain’t going to get mad at you because I figure about half of you don’t know either, but were afraid to sound stupid. At least Dickerson ain’t so proud as that.”

A few nervous chuckles came from the group. Thadeus said, “Back in the old days, y’all weren’t so squeamish about the idea of an invasion and conquest. Now, I may have some influence in Washington, DC, but if we want the forces to conquer the world, we have to get the right people on board with the idea that this is a peace-keeping activity. Right on time, we got them folks on the other side to prove their hostile intent. That’s enough to launch a secret little war.”

“I have to ask a stupid question,” a young woman with dyed-purple hair said.

“There ain’t stupid questions, just stupid people,” Thadeus said. Again, his attendees chuckled nervously. “Shoot, Cora.”

Her jaw hardened. “Two questions, actually. How long will it take for us to get military support, and how will we get the gateway open by then? I have been up there the last eight weeks, and we have not made any real progress. Then I got shot at this morning, and we have three witches dead, including one of our Alphas. How do we finish this?”

Thadeus didn’t answer immediately, and his expression didn’t waver. Suddenly the purple-haired woman’s eyes widened, and everyone took a step away from her. She dropped to her knees next to Thadeus, breathing shallow gasps.

“What was that, Cora?” Thadeus asked. “You want to know the plan?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she said after a terrified gulp of air.

“I don’t have a problem with the questions, Cora. Just be certain of your tone and your phrasing. I know your generation hasn’t mastered the art of subtlety in your communications, and you are also new to the Alphas. Even more importantly, as you said, we are down an Alpha today. On top of that, I am in a very good mood this morning. So I’m going to ignore this itsy bitsy little breach this once, okay? Just nod your head.”

She nodded frantically, tears coming out of her eyes. She gasped, and slowly returned to her feet, staring at the ground. Thadeus smiled as if nothing had happened. “Getting back to what you need to know. Cora, you and the rest will need to redouble your efforts. Your shift is not over until you drop from exhaustion from here on out, do you understand?”

She nodded, not meeting his gaze. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I want y’all up on that hill making sure we have the full attention of our counterparts on the other side. I want them to know they just poked the bear. We will also beef up defenses to deal with another attack like this and make sure poor exhausted Cora and her friends are not injured. Until we get government troops involved, we’ll keep the same plan of retreat. Smack their hands and get out of their way.”

Everyone nodded. He continued. “I’m lining up meetings for the next two days that should see some serious troops arriving in as little as three days. Y’all are going to have to handle that as best you can. Meanwhile, I’m heading to Morgantown, where people are waiting for me.” He motioned to the woman with the braided hair beside him. “Cheryl’s in charge while I’m gone. Don’t disappoint her, or you disappoint me. Got it?”

He didn’t wait for the group to finish nodding or murmur their assent. “Now, it ain’t your job to bring down that seal. Your job is to take advantage of it when it happens. This time next week, y’all will be on the other side, doing your bit for Uncle Sam and Daddy Thadeus. Any more questions?”

If there were, his treatment of Cora—whatever he’d done—was enough to silence them. The group broke up and they walked to the waiting automobiles. The drivers jumped out of the cars and opened doors for them.

A young woman in her early twenties with long white hair in braids bent low and stared right at Jessabelle. She wore a diaphanous sea-green blouse that did little to hide a tight-fitting demi t-shirt beneath. She lowered her fingers to the ground. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” she cooed.

Jessabelle froze in fear. The man beside her rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You and cats, sheesh.” He kept his voice low, but Jessabelle’s ears picked out the words like gunshots. “Leave it. You heard the boss. We’ve got work to do.”

“I’m just being friendly,” she said. She turned to face Jessabelle. “Here, kitty, kitty…”

Thadeus paused by the open door of his Escalade. He looked first at the white-haired woman, and then followed her gaze to Jessabelle. His face broke out into a wide grin. “The Kings don’t own cats,” he said. “Get her! Don’t kill her if you can help it!”

Jessabelle was already running as fast as her four legs would take her, hurling herself around the house and to the relative safety of the treeline. She tore under the split-log ranch-style fence marking the edge of the house’s property, taking small comfort in the taller grasses and weeds beyond. She was out of eyesight by now, but still in tremendous danger.

She collapsed in mid-stride as an invisible hand seemed to reach out of the air and grab her. She struggled, but her legs flailed uselessly in the grass. Someone had caught her with magic.

“She’s stopped!” a distant voice shouted. “We’ve got her.”

Terror seized her, and the memory of her powerlessness from tranquilizing darts forced a wail from her tiny lungs. Not again. Not again! She forced herself to think, knowing every second brought her enemies closer. This was magic, not drugs. In spite of her looming panic, she was still in control. What could she do?

Jessabelle-the-girl had the amulet Jenny had made her, but she was off in whatever storage she went to when Jessabelle-the-cat took form. Her two human legs couldn’t get her away nearly as quickly or as stealthily as her other forms. Right now, however, she had no choice. The spell held her form…

In a flash, she was Jessabelle-the-girl, laying prone in the grass. Slow, clumsy, but clothed and wearing Jenny’s amulet. The force crippling her legs vanished. Her immediate thought was to stand and run, but how far would she get on her two legs before they caught her? She would once again be a prisoner of the Coven.

The shouting drew closer, now around the King’s house. In desperation, she pulled the amulet from around her neck, setting it next to her. The force didn’t immediately reassert itself on her legs, which was a good sign. The amulet must have negated the witchcraft, not just shielded her from it.

She transformed again. Jessabelle-the-panther picked up the amulet in her teeth. Would it work this way? She had no idea, but at least now it was with her current form and not locked away in the closet with the girl. She leaped to her feet and bounded away. More shouts followed her, but she easily outran them. If they used their powers against her, the amulet made from Jenny’s witchcraft and Jack’s blood protected her. Soon she was hopelessly lost, racing in an unknown direction, hunted by powerful pursuers, but at least she’d left the shouts far behind.

Sean knocked on the door of the “clubhouse” at the Pleasant Dreams Motel. The door opened immediately, revealing a pretty, vaguely familiar woman in her late twenties. She was professionally dressed, but wore too much makeup. Or maybe just enough for television. She stared at Sean for a split second, and then gasped. “You are Sean Williams, right?”

While he expected it, it was disconcerting to have someone he’d never met recognize him on sight. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“This is going to make things more complicated. But interesting. I’m Penny Johnson. And this is…?” She directed her gaze at Debbie.

Debbie stood beside Sean. She had demanded to go in with him in spite of the risks. “Hi. I’m Debra Arnot. I’m Sean’s girlfriend,” she said, a little too brightly.

“That’s fine,” the woman said. She motioned into the space behind her. Lights were set up on tripods in front of rearranged furniture, focused on a corner of the room empty of anything but two chairs. A man in his mid-thirties with a curly brown beard and a camera on his shoulder waved. “That’s my cameraman, Dave Cromwell.”

Sean glanced behind him before he stepped inside. The parking lot for the motel was largely vacant. Trees partly shrouded the adjoining parking lot, but Josie’s SUV was positioned perfectly to get a clear view of this side-building. After the tiniest nod of acknowledgment, he entered the building.

Penny closed the door. “My boss, Liam, might be here shortly. He doesn’t know that I’m meeting you, but I told him it had something to do with what’s going on around Branton. He was reluctant to run with this at first, but after what happened this morning, he approved the expense. I really hope you can shine a light on this.” She waved around the room. A pair of paintings had been moved into the corner. The rooms labeled “Weight Room” and “Restroom” were behind the tripods, partly blocked by two couches. “I’ve used this place once before as a makeshift soundstage. It is nondescript, out of the way, and—well, cheap to reserve for an hour. Which, by the way, we’re down to about forty-five minutes of. Oh! Before I forget!” She handed him a thumb drive with a glossy purple metallic case.

Sean shoved the device in his pocket. “Did you make a copy?”

The woman nodded. “Of course.”

“Good. The more copies the better. Have you looked at the contents?”

“Only briefly until this morning. Do you know what’s on the drive?”

“No, but I have some pretty good ideas.”

Her eyes flashed. “I really hope so. Because if this really is what it looks like, this is explosive. It changes everything we’ve been told, and some very important people may be going to jail. Now, you said in the email you’d be willing to answer some questions on camera?”

“I don’t have a lot of answers, and you might not like the ones I have. They might sound pretty crazy.”

Penny waved her hand dismissively, but still had the hungry glint in her eye. “We’ll see how it goes. If nothing else, we could use the additional background on the developing story. Are you ready?”

Sean shrugged. “That’s the deal, isn’t it?”

She smiled. “It was. Now, don’t be nervous. We have two cameras running right now. We can have Debbie stand over there by the couch so she doesn’t appear in the shots. Sean, please have a seat here.” She patted one of the two chairs while she sat in the other one, which seemed uncomfortably close.

“We’re sitting down for this?” he asked.

Penny smiled and nodded. “I don’t know how much of this they’ll end up airing, but I’ve got a lot of questions, and I want to make certain you have the opportunity to fully explain your side of things.”

Sean nodded and took a seat. He’d tried to read up on what he had been accused of in the news, but the information had been vague. He was a “person of interest” with suspected ties to an extremist group with possible terrorist plans. What could he possibly say to provide “his side” of that argument, beyond categorically denying it all? Unfortunately, the truth was…

Well, the truth wouldn’t work at all.

“Don’t be nervous, Sean,” Penny said. Each time she said it, he felt more nervous. Penny looked up at the cameraman, who checked the camera mounted on the tripod as well as the one he carried. He fiddled with the intensity of the lights, and then pointed his camera at Sean and his finger at Penny.

Her demeanor changed instantly, and she seemed cool, detached, and professional. “This is Penny Johnson of KWVC News, and we’re here with a young man who has been at ground zero in some of the controversy and confusion growing out of the Branton area. Sean Williams, thank you so much for taking a few minutes to speak with us today.”

“Thank you,” he said. He immediately kicked himself mentally for not saying something wittier, or even saying her name.

“Let’s start at the beginning. For the rest of us, this all began in June when the pictures of what appeared to be the remains of two very large creatures were released. Scientists later examined the remains and determined that they were the result of some kind of mutant creature painstakingly altered in a hoax. Tell us, what really happened up there, and what was your involvement?”

“Nobody has told me what the scientists claim they were. I don’t care if they were made in a lab or came from another world. These creatures were responsible for the deaths of several people, and we were very nearly victims of them both. We got lucky. We fought back in self-defense, and killed the og—killed the one. Call them what you will. They were dangerous monsters.”

“So you deny being involved in the creation of this hoax?”

“What hoax? Was Sam Colton’s death a hoax? What about John Casto? Grace Alls?”

“You allege these deaths were caused by these creatures?”

Sean nodded. “The creatures killed them, yes.”

“You realize that story was debunked several weeks ago.”

“People can say what they want to say. I saw the creatures with my own eyes. They attacked us. We fought back in self-defense.”

“That’s a bold statement, Sean.”

“No it’s not. It’s just the truth. I’m not the only one who saw them.” He started feeling a little more confident. The interview was going well. And the Coven was going to have a bad time dealing with eyewitnesses, right?”

“What about the recent allegations that you are part of an extremist group operating out of the area?”

Sean shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just gotten back into town a few days ago, and hadn’t heard any of this.”

“Oh? Where have you been?”

“As far from some of the drama as I could get.”

“So, you had no idea that you were wanted for questioning?”

“Not until a few days ago, no.”

“Surely family didn’t tell you?”

“I’ve been out of contact.” This was taking a bad turn.

She nodded. “I see. Did you leave town and go out of contact before or after the deaths of Bella and Clarence Smith and Ray Carlton?”

Carlton? Was that Ray’s name? Sean felt bad that he knew so little about the man who died trying to protect him. Was she insinuating that Sean had murdered them? He nodded. “After Thadeus Longrave had them killed, yes,” he said.

Her eyebrows rose by a fraction. “Your father’s former business partner?”

Sean shook his head. “No. That fell through when my father found out about Thadeus.”

“Oh.” She looked confused, and glanced at the cameraman. “You did know your father is currently in a coma, didn’t you?”

“What? When? For how long?”

“We can cut this part out, later. I assumed you knew. Longrave has been helping to cover his medical bills.”

“Where did you hear all this?”

She pursed her lips for a moment. “I did research before doing this interview. Look, I’m sorry. Do you want to pause for a bit? We can take a quick break.”

“No, it’s okay,” Sean said. He looked her in the eyes. “But if you really want to know what’s going on, do your homework on Longrave. But be careful. He kills people.”

“I find that hard to believe. He has no record to speak of.”

“His record is a fake.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a break? You are saying some things that can land you in a lot of legal trouble if I air them.”

Sean nodded. “The cameras are still rolling, right?”

The cameraman nodded. “Recording. Yes, always.”

They needed to get this over with. Sean needed to look at the data on that USB drive and find out what Thadeus was really planning. That was the priority, but he felt obligated to tell Penny what she needed to know. “I had to go into hiding when Thadeus tried to have me killed. My father had a heart attack when we escaped. Ray tried to protect us, and he was gunned down by Thadeus’s men. Don’t take my word for it. Do your research. Find out where Thadeus really comes from.” As if that was a possibility. But at least it might get her on the right track.

“You act as if Thadeus is a criminal mastermind.”

“He is. He runs a group called the Coven.”

Her smile came hesitantly, but the gleam in her eyes was gone. “Okay, Sean. Thank you for your time today,” she began, voice polite but dismissive.

The door smashed open, knocking over one of the stands with the cameraman’s lights. Debbie shrieked as two policemen charged into the room, guns drawn, wearing armored vests. “Police! Everyone freeze!” One shouted as two more policemen appeared at the door.

“Keep your hands where we can see them!” another officer said. The two officers at the door glided into the room, the one with the shotgun slipping past them and checking the bathroom and weight room doors.

Penny stared wide-eyed at the police, her hands slowly raising. She glanced at Sean. “I didn’t call them, I swear!” she said.

“I did,” a man at the doorway said. He was bald, with a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a loosened power-tie that matched his beige slacks. He stepped into the now crowded room.

Penny stared in confusion. “Liam?”

“Please leave now, sir,” one of the officers said.

Liam, Penny’s boss, righted the light-stand. “Are you kidding? I’m the press. You’d better believe I’m filming this exclusive. Dave, keep the camera rolling.”

Jenny’s first sign that anything was wrong was Jack swearing. While she had gradually adapted to the sensory overload from the Sight, it had limitations. She could only perceive things happening outside of a few feet around her by concentrating on a small area. It was like viewing the world through a telescope that had to be constantly refocused.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Two police cars. They are talking to some guy with a white shirt and tie. He just pointed to the side building.”

Jenny moved the focus of her telescope, trying to find them. After a few seconds, she perceived the four police officers sneaking their way to the door, guns drawn. A bearded man with a loose tie followed shortly behind.

“We have to do something!” Jack said.

“Start the car once I get over there, and get ready to make a getaway.”

Jack shook his head. “You know I ain’t got a driver’s license, don’t you? I’ll go in, you drive.”

“I’m blind, remember?” Jenny got out of the car, leaving the door open behind her. She didn’t want a door slam to alert the police.

She pulled the straps of her satchel over her shoulder. Two days ago, it would have hurt too much to carry it. Now the pain was gone, replaced with an itching all over her body that drove her nuts. It was probably a side-effect of the magical healing, and she should be grateful.

The satchel was the same one she’d dragged through the woods to bring with her to the fight with Taliel, and it hadn’t grown any less stained or dingy over the following weeks. But she couldn’t imagine replacing it with a nice store-bought purse. At least not yet. It gave her confidence, and not just because of its contents. She reached in and retrieved a pair of plastic sunglasses that Josie had bought for her on their way here, and put them on to cover up her dead eyes.

Jack muttered as Jenny walked away. Jenny sympathized. Jack was far more comfortable throwing himself into danger than sitting idly by while someone else did it. This time, however, might call for slightly more subtlety. Maybe, just maybe, nobody would get hurt.

She considered how Evelyn had been able to make herself practically invisible. How had she done that? Jenny could use that kind of ability right now. As she considered, colors shimmered in her Sight. It wasn’t quite the electric blue of magic, but it did have a strange—feel? Flavor?—of witchcraft. Something to investigate later. If she had time.

If any of them had time.

The police entered the motel room with weapons raised, but no shots were fired. As Jenny drew near, the man with a tie followed the police officers into the room, ignoring her. Was he their boss or something? That meant five authorities, her friends, and the reporter in a small space. Things could get out of hand very quickly.

She went through the pouches and bottles as she walked. Interestingly, she could tell what ingredients were what just by feel. She found the pouch of dry bay leaves, and stopped walking to shake some of them out into her left hand. A quick look around revealed some dandelions growing out of a patch of crab-grass alongside the motel building, one of which was turning white but hadn’t yet lost its seeds. She grabbed the tip of the flower and pulled the downy seeds between her thumb and index finger.

She crushed the bay leaves in her fist, and then mixed the contents of both hands together. As she approached the door, she sang.

Love and respect, desire and fear

Heed you now the words you hear!

Pale blue light filled her hands, almost blinding her Sight. She tossed the mixture into the room just before she stepped in. Two of the officers turned their weapons on her. The man in the tie pointed at her and cried out, “It’s a witch!”

Seriously? Her whole life, nobody had told her about witches. Not even her mother, who was apparently some legendary witch and once led the Coven. And now she returned to find that everyone knew about witches. Was she the only one left out?

For now, she had two guns pointed at her. It occurred to her that only a few months ago, this would have terrified her. Was she getting that jaded? She dismissed the thought, focusing all of her attention on her witchcraft.

“Calm down everyone,” she said loudly enough to be heard clearly. “Put your guns away. This was all a big misunderstanding. Somebody called it in as a joke.” She bit her tongue to avoid saying “These are not the droids you are looking for.”

Three of the policemen put their weapons away. The one with the shotgun lowered his weapon to point it at the floor. Jenny smiled and said, “We’re all done here, aren’t we?”

One of the cops nodded. Was he the ranking officer? She was used to the insignias on the Wardens’ uniforms, and didn’t know how to tell the police apart. The Sight made everything so weird and colorful it was hard to tell some of the more mundane details apart.

It was over so quickly, and so easily. That frightened Jenny even more than looking down the barrels of the guns. Just a few weeks ago, using her power to compel people felt immoral, unethical, and even downright evil. That perception was reinforced when Taliel forced her to reveal the location of the Crossroads. But after using it once to save lives, it was easier.

Did Evelyn start out this way, thinking her power was morally repugnant, and gradually getting to the point where she’d use it without thinking, even to the point of killing people? Jenny would die before she reached that point, but where was the line?

“Hang on a second, George,” the officer with the shotgun said. “I need to borrow your piece for a moment.” He reached for the holster of the officer in front of him and pulled the handgun from it.

The other officer spun around with a cry of surprise, slapping the empty holster with his hand. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, George,” the cop with the stolen handgun said, as he pointed it at George’s head and pulled the trigger. George dropped, dead instantly. As the other officers turned, the rogue policeman shot them several times just below their vests with so much speed and precision that Jenny didn’t entirely register what was happening.

The officer’s face was blank, almost bored as he continued his murder spree.

Sean leaped for him. The cop slammed the handgun into Sean’s face, causing him to stagger backwards. Then he dropped the handgun and raised the muzzle of the shotgun to Sean’s midsection. The room shook with the explosive force of the shotgun as he shot Sean in the stomach. He pumped another round into the chamber as he turned. Blue flashes accompanied the attacks, but it was so sudden Jenny couldn’t tell if the protection had fully shielded Sean or not.

Her shock wore off a moment too late. The next shot slammed into her chest as she was scrambling to duck for cover. She fell to the floor, her hand splashing in blood that hadn’t yet had time to soak into the carpet.

The shotgun went off twice more. Debbie and the cameraman fell. Debbie, too, wore an amulet that flashed blue on the hit.

The woman who had been standing next to Sean stared in open-mouthed horror. “Why? Liam, what…?” She didn’t finish before the policeman shot her, too.

The man in the tie swore. His words came to her as if her ears were full of cotton. Noisy cotton playing a high-pitched sound. “What did you just do, Vic? I’m covered in blood! What did you do?”

“I took care of the problem. The situation escalated when the kid we were after grabbed George’s gun and started shooting us, and his friends joined in. The reporter and the camera geek got in the way in the chaos. Collateral damage.”

“No way. Nobody’s going to buy that…”

“Shut up a second, Liam.” The policeman—Vic—keyed the microphone on his shoulder. “Unit six, ten-twenty-three.” The radio buzzed as dispatch acknowledged what sounded like a routine check-in. “There. That buys us a few minutes to make some adjustments to the scene.”

Jenny slowly moved her hand to touch one of the policemen. He gasped for breath, eyes bugged out, but he wasn’t dead yet. She couldn’t grab any healing juice out of her satchel without being seen, but she could still do something to keep him alive. She whispered, “Fever a-falling, bones are a-mending, itching and ailing relieve you…” She thought her words were quiet enough, but with the ringing in her ears, it was hard to tell what was an audible volume anymore.

Liam, the man with the tie, said, “You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s no way they’ll let this go. The courts…”

“It’ll never go that far. Thadeus will be in charge of the whole shooting match by then.”

“Sure, if everything goes according to schedule this time!”

Vic smirked. “Congratulations, Liam. You now have a key role in making sure we stay on schedule.”

As they talked, Jenny focused on the fallen officer, watching the blue light and energy stream into his body. Perhaps it was an artifact of her nonstop Sight, but the brightness and force of the light exceeded what she’d seen before when using this spell. The results were immediate. The officer’s breathing grew more relaxed, but his eyes remained wide and fearful, staring at Jenny in shock. He was still in bad shape, but if he didn’t get shot again, he would probably live. If only she could reach the others without being noticed.

Vic pointed to the camera laying on the bed where the cameraman had fallen. “Do you know how to wipe whatever it was they were recording?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. That’ll be your job while I rearrange things.”

“Maybe I could just wipe the last few minutes. Keep whatever Penny recorded, bless her soul…”

“Don’t bother. That’s going to raise questions sooner than we like. Just relax and stay on the right side of history. Everything is going according to plan, Liam.” He frowned, ducking down to check under one of the beds. “Hey, did you see where George’s gun landed? It’s not here…”

He stood up at the same time as Debbie. Debbie kept the muzzle of the handgun pointed at his face, keeping the distance neither too close nor too far. “Found it,” she said.

Vic smirked, and whipped the shotgun around to shoot her. Both weapons went off. The electric blue flash of Debbie’s protective shield mingled with the yellow-red flashes of the gunfire. A moment later, Vic was dead, and Debbie had the gun aimed at Liam.

“Daddy taught his little girl to shoot before he taught her to ride a bicycle,” she said. “Don’t move.” If she noticed the blackened hole in her shirt just under her arm, she ignored it.

Jenny got up and rushed around the room, pulling supplies from her satchel to heal the others. The other policeman was in a worse state than the first. Jenny poured her will into the spell, clearly guiding the tendrils of blue light that bound themselves around his injuries and pumped his body with the strength necessary to stabilize. It seemed to work, and she didn’t yet feel fatigued.

Penny and the cameraman were badly injured and had lost a lot of blood, but they were alive. With a bit of healing juice, the cameraman recovered enough to check on his equipment.

Vic and George were beyond healing.

In spite of being held at gunpoint by Debbie, Liam was bold enough to keep talking. “You realize you are all dead, don’t you? You aren’t going to survive the day. You wouldn’t believe what kind of connections I’ve got. Let me go, though, and I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Sean snorted. “You are nobody. Thadeus doesn’t give a crap about you, and he already wants us dead. The only thing you are right about is that we have to get out of here, quick.” He looked at Jenny.

The cop she had assumed to be the ranking officer started blinking and moving. “Careful,” she said. “Not too fast. You are healing, but if you move too much too quickly, you’ll hurt yourself again. You’ve lost a lot of blood, and can’t afford to lose anymore.”

“Louis,” he whispered, trying to look over at the other surviving cop.

“I think he’ll be okay,” Jenny said.

Liam’s voice grew more strident. “You know Vic wasn’t the only cop working for Thadeus, right? If you stay here another second, you’re just committing suicide!”

Debbie sneered. “So you can get away too, huh?”

A clump of several dandelion seeds sat on the floor and hadn’t gotten soaked by blood. Jenny picked it up, and held it close to her lips, whispering the words of the song. She felt as well as saw the magic building in the feathery tuft. She stepped around one of the puddles on the floor to stand next to Liam. His eyes darted between Debbie’s gun and the tiny white fluff in her hand, and his eyes widened as she touched the feathery seeds to his forehead. “What…what are you doing?”

“It’s been an exhausting day,” Jenny said. “Take a long, peaceful nap.”

Liam’s eyes rolled up before his eyelids closed, and he comically dropped forward onto the floor. He began snoring, face-down on the blood-splattered carpet.

Penny pulled herself to a standing position, hand still clutched over her rapidly-healing wound. “Dave, did we get all that?”

Dave coughed. “Most of it. Cameras weren’t on all of the action at the end, but audio should have everything.”

The policeman reached for his radio on his shoulder, wincing as he moved. “I’m calling for backup and emergency crews.”

“We have to leave,” Sean said.

The cop nodded weakly. “You do what you’ve got to do. I’m in no position to stop you.” He looked down, peering over his armored vest at his blood-soaked legs. “I don’t know what you did, lady, but thank you.”

“Holy crap, we are so dead,” Sean said as he drove Josie’s SUV along the two-lane highway, checking in the rear-view mirror for the hundredth time for a sign of pursuit. It wouldn’t take much for the cops to find them. More police would have arrived at the clubhouse minutes ago, and he didn’t trust the ones Jenny saved to keep completely silent on what happened for long. The cameras undoubtedly recorded a good deal of what had happened. Even though Sean and his friends were innocent, dead policemen would cause existing suspicions to turn into a manhunt.

In the rear-view mirror, he saw Debbie glancing down at her shirt. Part was burned and torn with buckshot, and bloodstains dotted her shoulders. As bad as it was, she looked much less like a refugee from a horror film than Jenny, who was already in bad shape with scars and no hair under her hat, soaked in blood from almost everyone who had been in the room whom she’d rushed to save. If they got pulled over, they would be instantly detained even if they weren’t recognized.

“Not yet,” Jenny said. “I just hope this was worth it.”

Speaking as much to assure himself as everyone else, Sean said, “We need to regroup, clean up, and examine the data on that thumb drive. That could be the secret to stopping Thadeus.”

“You think so? What’s in it?” Debbie asked. “Is it like microfilm or something?”

“It’s computer data,” Sean answered. “These thumb drives can hold thousands of books and pictures, and several hours of video data.”

“So, it’ll take a long time.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“And to use it, you need Josie’s computer.”

Sean nodded.

“We can’t go back to Josie’s,” Jack said.

“What do you mean? We need a place to hide out.”

“Jack’s right,” Jenny said. “We can’t risk leading the Coven there. The Coven already knows she’s a witch. And if they put two and two together and figure out how we got here, they’ll find the Crossroads.”

“But the Crossroads are buried now, right?” Debbie said.

“If they know what they are looking for, that would just be an inconvenience,” Jenny said. “The Crossroads want to be open.”

There was something in the way she said that last sentence that creeped Sean out. He suppressed a shudder. “It’s still sealed. The Wardens can protect it.”

“Which ones do they protect?” Jack asked. “They’d have to cut their forces in half to protect them both, but the Coven can concentrate its force on either one. Also, the Coven can move a lot faster than the Wardens can. They could attack the one in Maple Bend in the morning and at Josie’s after lunch. They just have to break through one.”

“So you are a general now, Jack?” Sean said. He intended it as a joke, but halfway through it, he realized that he sort of meant it.

“Nope,” Jack said. “But I did spend a bit of time this summer building defenses and talking to some officers who knew a bit about strategy. And that just makes sense. I think the Chief Warden made a bad choice by burying the new Crossroads, but I can’t say it was a stupid choice. So long as we don’t do something stupid and lead anyone back to Josie’s.”

Sean focused his eyes on the road, fighting a mix of emotions that made him want to punch Jack, to scream at everybody, or to just pull over and collapse and let someone else handle things. He glanced back in the rear-view mirror, and looked at Debbie. He wanted to do the right thing by her, whatever that was.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. “Look, what are our options here? We can’t keep driving. Sooner or later, we’ll need to get gas, and anyone who sees us covered with blood will call the cops. Aside from Maple Bend and Josie’s, who do we know out here who could take us in? Who could we trust? Jenny and I are not from around here, and Debbie is, well…also not from around here anymore.”

Debbie sighed. “I paid for my dorm room for the full year. You don’t think they’d honor my unused time and give it back to me, do you?”

Sean chortled. “No, probably not. Although… Oh, crap. No, that would be a bad idea.”

“What was that?” Debbie asked.

“I just had a terrible idea. What do you guys think about going to Morgantown?”

* * *

As usual, the back lot of the apartment building was relatively vacant. It was far enough from campus to make a quick run home between classes inconvenient, especially for students without cars or those who wanted to keep their decent parking spot. Sean’s old apartment was one of the middle two on the second floor.

“You guys stay here,” he said. “I’m going to head in. If it’s safe, I’ll wave for you to come on in.”

“Safe?” Debbie asked.

“Nobody to report us for looking like we came out of a murder scene.”

He left his keys in the car in case his friends needed to leave without him. He glanced around, half expecting to see “wanted” posters with his name on it hanging on the walls. That, or police officers hiding in his old apartment waiting to arrest him. If felt weird knocking on the door that had been his home for two years, but a single summer away felt like a full year.

When no one answered the door, he tried the knob. It was locked. Blake was bad about forgetting to lock the door, but maybe he had a new roommate who, like Sean, insisted on it.

One of the reasons Blake hated to lock the door was that he frequently forgot his key. A year ago, Blake had purchased a car, and so forgetting keys became less of an issue. But he still kept a spare key hidden away just in case. It was not a very secure solution, and on nights that Blake went out drinking with friends and returned drunk without keys, he would forget the hidden key and still bang on the door for Sean to let him in.

Sean stepped to the side of the door to the front window. The loose brick still hadn’t been fixed. Tilting the brick up, he dug out the spare key from the cavity where the mortar had crumbled away. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The apartment was kind of a mess, and had barely changed in the four months since he’d graduated and left. That was unsurprising, as Blake went home to Ohio for the summer as well. It was cheaper, and more convenient, to keep the apartment while he was gone. He’d probably returned only a few weeks ago.

The other bedroom, the one where Sean had lived, was relatively spartan compared to the very lived-in apartment. A Pittsburgh Steelers poster and a Mountaineers football schedule hung on the wall, and the desk held neatly organized books, school supplies, and a printer. Someone had moved in, but they weren’t there now.

“Hello?” Sean called. “Blake? Anybody home?”

Nobody answered, so he leaned out the front door and waved to everyone. They quickly climbed the stairs and piled into the living room. Sean closed and locked the door behind them.

“You lived here?” Debbie asked.

“Yeah. Sorry it’s a mess.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It ain’t like it’s your mess.”

Sean shrugged, and waved to the kitchen. “Actually, I think those dishes in the sink are mine.”

“What? Ew, really?”

Sean laughed, and she slapped him across the shoulder with mock exasperation. “Shame on you! Here I am in the strange world of the future, trusting what you tell me about it, and you pull my leg like that.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you ain’t.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Sean had tried to lift the mood in the best way he knew how. All four of them were in shock over the firefight, but the other three seemed less impacted by what happened than Sean. Even Debbie, who had pulled the trigger on a man, seemed to be recovering better than Sean, who had seen more than his share of death in the last few weeks. But then, hadn’t they all?

Sean pointed to the bathroom. “Go ahead and get cleaned up the best you can.”

Jenny went in first, and closed the door behind her. Jack sat on the ancient couch, and said, “So this is what college looks like.”

“It’s what a college student’s apartment looks like, I guess,” Sean said as he opened up the door to the closet and pulled out a large cardboard box. He unfolded the box tops, and pulled clothes out and dumped them onto the floor.

“What is all this?” Debbie asked.

“I asked Blake to hold onto my stuff for the summer. I was heading out for a few weeks to, um, explore the state.” He was really going on a quest to hunt down the history of the mysterious ghostly girl who had obsessed him. Never would he have imagined that she would one day stand in his apartment, alive and breathing again. “I, uh, never planned to go home again, so I didn’t have anywhere else to store them. See if there’s anything in there that will fit you guys if you need to change clothes.”

At the bottom of the box was his laptop computer, some books, a steel box, some stationery, and bits of memorabilia he’d decided to keep rather than throw away. He pulled out the laptop and set it up on the tiny kitchen table. Debbie watched, and said, “Oh, you have your own computer, just like Josie’s!”

“Yeah, kind of,” he said. “It didn’t make sense to lug the laptop everywhere I went.”

He plugged it in, as he doubted the battery would have kept much of a charge over four months. Debbie watched as it booted up and he logged in. She gasped in surprise when the desktop image came up. It was a collage of three black-and-white pictures that he’d found in his research, accompanying newspaper articles describing her death, plus the picture Blake had taken of them at the Halloween party.

Sean felt himself turning bright red, and he tried to lower the screen to obscure the view. Debbie grabbed it and raised the screen so she could get a better look at it. “Oh! Hey, that’s the Sunday dress that Mama Norton made me!” she said. “And that’s the one you told me about. I remember going to the party like that. Where did you get the rest of these?”

“Newspapers,” Sean said.

“About me? Oh. About the murder.”

Sean nodded. “I forgot I had that as wallpaper.”

“You are like…what…one of those guys that stalks a girl. What are they called?”

“Stalkers?”

“Yeah. I got my own personal stalker. That’s really kind of creepy.”

Sean sank down in the chair, and could feel his cheeks growing hot. She bent over his shoulder, staring at the desktop pictures, and then turned her head and kissed him on the cheek. “See? I can tease you, too.” She wrapped her arms around him. “So now what?”

He reached into the pocket of his jeans, and produced Penny’s USB drive. He plugged it into the side of the computer and began digging through the list of files. At some point during his searches, Jenny came out of the bathroom, and Jack fell asleep. Debbie dug through the clothes and swapped some with Jenny. Jenny returned to the bathroom to try on some of Sean’s old sweats, and Debbie pulled up a kitchen chair and sat beside Sean.

“Jenny’s been crying,” she whispered.

“What? Why?”

Debbie shook her head. “I don’t know. Take your pick. She’s got lots of reasons. We all do. I cried like crazy while you were gone ghost-hunting with the Wardens.”

“You did? I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Annie tried to help. Sometimes she made it worse. It was hard. What memories I had that weren’t jumbled were way out of date. It feels like I just went to that Halloween party one night, and then the next day I woke up in a fight for my life, but it was decades later. Then the guy that did it to me is ready to take over the world and kill us all. We cry. We do our best to get over it. We keep fighting. Hopefully that’s what Jenny is doing, too.”

“Maybe I should talk to her?”

“Maybe we all should, but I don’t think it would do any good right now. You keep doing what you are doing. Find anything yet?”

“Lots of stuff on building the road, and memos about meetings. Payment records, which I’m sure might be incriminating to someone who knew what this was all about. Nothing that makes sense to me yet. I’ve been trying to skim through the videos.”

“Anything good yet?”

“Maybe if I knew more about what I was looking at. There are a couple of videos of them redirecting the creek. Oh, and they found one of the giant mosquitoes and killed it. There’s a video of that. Here’s another one, labeled a little differently.” He checked the file size—it was easily the largest video on the drive, but it didn’t seem to be the longest. They used some exceptionally high-quality settings for that one and two others. He clicked the command to play it.

The video showed Hattie, sitting calmly in a chair behind a table. Or maybe she just looked calm. Sean had gotten to know her well enough that he could see the storm in her eyes, the little twitches at the corners of her mouth that revealed her secret worry. She was only pretending to be calm and in charge. Every detail was nicely high-resolution.

“That looks like Annie, a little,” Debbie said.

“Yeah, that’s Hattie.”

“Little Hattie? Oh, my goodness. She was just a baby!”

Sean chuckled. “She isn’t anymore. She helped us a lot. She let me stay with her for several weeks this summer. Unfortunately, she lost two trucks helping us.”

“Two? How?”

“Monsters. Well, monsters and a witch. But she took it all in stride. I don’t know how she does it.”

Debbie grinned. “I hope I can meet her soon.”

“Me, too. I think you’ll like her. But this is a Coven video, so it can’t be good. I hope she gives them hell, though.”

They watched the video quietly, and it grew worse. Debbie’s pleasure at seeing her best friend’s baby as an adult quickly turned to horror. When it was done, Sean said, “We have to show the others.”

Jack didn’t know what he was about to watch, but the stricken expressions on Sean’s and Debbie’s faces suggested it was not going to be the kind of breakthrough they’d hoped for. Jenny sat beside him, occasionally asking for clarification on what she was seeing.

Jack could see the picture just fine, but wanted to ask the same question.

The video quality was exceptional. The room around Hattie was still under construction, the drywall nail-holes covered with plaster and bare flooring. It looked like nighttime, but it could have simply been that the room had no windows, lit by several portable lamps. The image shifted, providing a little bit of an aura-like glow around her. Hattie drummed her fingers on the cheap folding table she sat behind.

A woman’s voice behind the camera said, “That’s pretty good. I think all the settings are right. Let him know.”

Giving the camera a withering look, Hattie asked, “Is this going to take long?”

“I don’t know, Miss Rose. I’m just the A/V gal,” the voice responded.

Somewhere off-camera, a door opened. Thadeus’s voice was unmistakable as he said, “Ah, Hattie, thank you so much for coming.”

“Your guys with guns made a pretty convincing invitation,” she said. “What’s this about? I don’t know where Jessabelle is. I don’t know where Sean is. I imagine you know more about where they are than I do.”

A white coat passed in front the camera, blocking the view.

“Sir, the camera.”

Thadeus chuckled. “Oh, oops.” He stepped away from the camera, partially visible in the shot. Under whatever filtering was happening in the video that made Hattie seem to have an aura, Thadeus’s hands looked almost on fire as a red tint surrounded them. “Well, now, Hattie, if you did know any of these things, it ain’t like you’d tell us, now, would you?”

She shrugged. Thadeus continued. “You ain’t here to be interrogated or anything like that. You’re more here as a favor.”

“Why would you do me a favor?”

“I didn’t say it was a favor for you. You know, you don’t look all that much like your sister. But you are just as stubborn. I always admired that about her. Once she set her mind to something, nothing could stop her.”

“Until you killed her,” Hattie said. Her fingers started to twitch and shake, barely perceptible on the high-definition video. She concealed it by clenching her hands into fists.

“It broke my heart, let me tell you that. It truly did. I loved your sister like—Well, like no one else. And not just because of what she meant to the Coven, or what she did for me. No, she was a close friend. She was the closest I ever came to considering one of you as an equal. It hurt when she betrayed me, but still I loved her. I gave her lots of time to reconsider.” He sighed, staring off into the space behind Hattie for a moment. It was dramatic, but didn’t appear insincere. Then again, what did Jack know? Thadeus had been around for centuries, and was no doubt skilled at lying.

“In the end, though, y’all die anyway. Y’all got short lives. I was gonna have my heart broken sooner or later. Better to get it over with so I could focus on the task ahead, right? Anyway, I’m glad we had this little chat, and I could get that off my chest. Brings me some closure, I think. Thank you.”

Hattie shifted her head back to stare at him. “Was that why you brought me here? To tell me how much you loved Amy before you killed her?”

Thadeus chuckled. It sounded like a genuine, old-man chuckle, with nothing sinister behind it. “Oh, no, that was just some small talk. Hattie, you are going to witness history tonight. Ain’t that grand? This ain’t small potatoes, and I have witnessed lots of history in my time. Assuming this all works and my audio-visual witch didn’t mess up.”

The voice behind the camera said, “No witchcraft involved, sir. Just technology.”

“Even better! Okay, let’s perform the experiment. Please come in, Avery!”

A skinny man in a dark suit stepped into the room. His silver hair was thinning on top, and he wore a string tie under his collar. Unlike everyone else, his footfalls made no sound on the flooring. Also, unlike everyone else, the filters did not show any kind of aura around him. Hattie peered at him as if not certain of what she was looking at. Thadeus looked expectantly at the camera, and the girl’s voice said, “We’ve got him!”

“Wonderful! Truly wonderful!” Thadeus exclaimed, clapping his hands together like a delighted child. “Hattie, can you see him? This is Avery Thomas, a preacher of some reputation around these parts. Avery, meet Hattie Rose. I believe you know her mama.”

“We were acquainted,” Avery said, bowing slightly to Hattie.

Hattie squirmed back in her chair. Thadeus stepped behind her and grabbed the seat-back of the chair, holding it in place. He leaned down so his cheek nearly touched her cheek, and said, “Preacher Thomas—Avery, can I call you Avery?” At Avery’s nod, he continued. “Avery has done some excellent work for me in the past. Unfortunately, he let me down a few weeks ago, which delayed my plan a bit and resulted in the death of my daughter, who I was so looking forward to meeting.”

Avery’s face was blank. Thadeus grinned at the ghost like a mad jack-o-lantern for a moment, while Hattie stared wide-eyed at the side of her captor’s face. Thadeus stood erect to his somewhat less-than-commanding height, staying behind and a little to the side of Hattie. He kept his hand on the back of her chair.

“However,” Thadeus said, “he probably spared me a little bit more heartbreak, and he’s here to teach me an extremely useful skill that I never understood before. When you are as old as I am, trust me, finding something new is incredibly exciting. And this is not only exciting, but a key to everything! You see, Avery here is what is known as a ‘harvester’. He’s a ghost that, in a sense, eats other ghosts. Can you believe that? And you know what they say—you are what you eat. When he harvests these other ghosts, see, he can gain a little bit of their lingering memories, pieces of their essence. He might even gain some of their skills or powers. So long as he don’t bite off more than he can chew, right, Avery? Anyway, this will make a harvester more and more powerful over time, and good ol’ Avery has been at it for years. He is really good at what he does.”

Avery raised his hand to his chest and bowed his head humbly. “I just followed my path, Thadeus, and it led me to this.”

“So it did, so it did. So, show me how it works.”

Hattie leaped out of her chair, but not before Avery struck, a flash of light coming from his raised fist like a knife to strike her in the heart. Hattie gasped, eyes bulging, and flailed at the air before collapsing behind the table where the camera couldn’t see. The girl behind the camera gasped. Avery and Thadeus flanked the spot where Hattie fell, looking down at her.

Jack involuntarily took a step toward the screen. Every nerve in his body fired, ready to kick into action and stop whatever was happening. His brain, rather than politely informing the rest of his body that there was nothing to be done, kept coming up with plausible ways that Hattie might be okay. This was Hattie! She’d survived a snallygaster attack, and healed him up from a beating within hours. She was a fixture of Maple Bend, the most unchangeable part of a community that hadn’t seen much change his entire life. She would be fine.

“Is that a heart attack?” Thadeus moved his gaze along the area where Hattie had fallen, as if inspecting a menu. “Did you just induce a heart attack?”

Avery shook his head slowly. He was visually weakened, and the plaster spots on the walls began to show through his form in the video. “I stabbed her.”

“Hmm,” Thadeus said, scratching at his chin. “Looks to me like a heart attack. That’s a neat trick. Is she dead yet?”

“Have patience, my friend.”

“I have that in abundance,” Thadeus said. He looked somewhere off to the left of the camera, grinning at what may have been an off-screen accomplice. “Maybe we should have just shot her after all, huh?” He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching Hattie.

After a minute, Hattie reappeared between them. For a moment, Jack was elated. Her reappearance proved that they hadn’t hurt her after all. However, her appearance was—faded. Even more than Avery, the walls behind her showed through her form. She looked around, wide-eyed, lost.

“That’s her?” Thadeus asked.

“It’s a piece of her,” Avery said. “Like her physical body, it’s whatever is left behind.”

“Where’s the rest of her?”

Avery shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe there is no rest of her. It may be gone. I have no idea where the rest of me went, and I have no desire to know. Maybe she went to heaven.”

Thadeus nodded, and smiled. “You know, that’s a comforting thought. I like that. Let us hope, right? Now, on to the main event. Show me how this is done.”

Avery nodded, and stepped forward to touch Hattie’s ghost. She recoiled, but it didn’t stop him. Her mouth opened as if she was screaming, but no sound came out. Her image began unraveling, component elements shriveling along one axis and stretching in another, only to be pulled into Avery’s grasp, sucked in like a colorful strand of spaghetti.

Then she was gone.

Thadeus whistled admiringly. “That was impressive. Now do you know what she knew?”

Avery opened his hands and shrugged. “A little. More will come in time. I like to savor their last moments. Those are always part of what I can capture. I can re-create those whenever I need. The entire event, the full breadth of their terror, played out forever.” He closed his eyes and smiled. “Delicious.”

Thadeus snorted. “Whatever floats your boat, Avery. I’m looking at a bigger picture here. Do you gain memories? More importantly, what about their skills? Powers?

Avery opened his eyes. “I confess, I have not fully explored the possibilities. As I am no longer among the living, my needs are simple.”

“I’m immortal. My needs are a bit more complex. A while ago, you told me that you were able to do this even before you died. So living beings can do this too?”

Avery nodded. “Yes. Sean Williams is one. He nearly destroyed me with that power. And he took the Dutchman from me.”

“Could he seal those portals like the Dutchman could? Or summon all those ghosts by himself?”

“I don’t know. It is certainly within the realm of possibility.”

“Not after I get my hands on him. So, can you call up ghosts like the Dutchman’s ghost did?”

Avery shook his head. “No. Only the ones I have harvested. Perhaps, if I’d harvested the Dutchman, I might have gained that ability. However, while nowhere near as powerful, we do know where the ghost of one who can do this may be found, very close.”

“Yep, my mother-in-law. Or what’s left of her, as you say. I guess we’re down to just me getting some practice, then, aren’t we?”

Avery’s eyes flashed, and the corner of his mouth turned up. “Certainly, my friend. I may need to rest a bit, first. Killing the living takes a bit out of me.”

Thadeus nodded. “Yeah. I was banking on that.”

Avery raised an eyebrow. Thadeus thrust his hand into Avery’s chest. Avery screamed, the sound clipped and distorted in the video as his form distended and warped, twisting and unraveling. Avery’s arms flailed as if he were swimming against the riptide, before they too dissolved into threadlike strands that were pulled into Thadeus’s hand.

The Man in the White Suit broke the resulting silence with his laughter. “I think I’ve figured out how to do that now, Avery. That was something else! Goodness gracious. I doubt I enjoyed that as much as Avery seemed to, but maybe it’s an acquired taste. Or maybe it’s just that Avery was a son of a bitch.” He looked toward the camera. “Did we get all that?”

The girl stuttered, breathless. “Y-y-yes. Yes, I think…I think so. Y-yes. W-we got it.”

“Good work. Who needs Spirit Sight when we have the wonders of modern technology, right? I think I’m going to have to go rest for a bit. I can visit my mother-in-law tomorrow night, and get some practice in. Then, we’ll see if I can’t summon up the remains of my poor daughter. I definitely want you filming that one.”

The girl stammered. “But, uh, why? Y-your daughter?”

“All I needed to heal some very old injuries was a tiny little transfusion of her soul into mine. I figure, there don’t need to be that much left of her to cure the damage that was done to me. Plus, she gets to be a part of me forever. Kind of poetic, don’t you think?”

The video stopped.

Jack, Debbie, Sean, and Jenny sat in stunned silence. Outside the apartment, the sound of birds and the occasional traffic seemed completely unreal. The entire world seemed unreal.

Jenny spoke first, her voice quiet and cracked. “Sean, is there a date the video was created?”

Sean checked the file. “Looks like about two weeks ago.”

“Then we are already too late. Hattie’s been dead two weeks, and the Man in the White Suit can take the Crossroads back whenever he wants.”

“We don’t know that,” Jack said.

Jenny shook her head. “I think we do. He already has everything he needs.”

Debbie had been standing rigidly, watching the entire video for the second time. “What can we do, then? How do we stop him? Or is it already over?”

Nobody answered. Jack stood with his fists clenched. “What’s he been waiting for, then?”

She could not run forever. Jessabelle-the-panther was swift, but she was built for bursts of speed and the quick chase. She couldn’t keep her speed up. And she couldn’t outrun a car. Or radio.

She didn’t even know exactly where she was. It was amazing how she could live in a place most of her life and become horribly lost in the forest within a quarter-mile of her home. She wasn’t even sure which direction she was going. Probably in the opposite direction from Branton, or Josie, or Morgantown. She was probably heading into federal lands, and would become truly lost for days. By the time she found her way out, starving and desperate, Thadeus would already have sent his army in through the Arnot Crossroads.

No! She had to focus. First, she had to put some distance between her and the Coven. Then she’d worry about figuring out where she was, and get help. For all the distance she put between herself and the King house, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was close. Could it be another spell? Something convincing her mind that pursuit was right behind her?

After several minutes, she could run no further. Her heart felt like it would explode inside her ribs. How far had she gone? It felt like it must have been miles, through heavy woods and steep ravines, though in all likelihood it had only been a mile or two. It had all gone by in a blur, and she’d changed directions several times in her flight. Gauging by the direction of the sun, she guessed she’d been going in a more-or-less northerly direction, which was sort of the direction she wanted to be heading, plus another sixty miles or so. Too far to go on foot.

Before she could catch her breath, she heard the whispers of her pursuer. At first, she thought it was merely a trick of her imagination, but she made out a handful of words with certain consonants that broke through the distance like the sound of a cracking twig or the cry of a bird. “Stopped.” “Rest.” “GPS.” “Six.” “Fast.” “Minutes.”

How? Was she much slower than before? As the panther, she should be able to outrun any human. Unless this person was like her and able to change form into another swift cat. If so, were they faster than her? Whoever it was, they’d had no trouble keeping up, and they were talking without panting. Changing form would probably reduce her fatigue, but at a cost. Jessabelle had already changed form enough that she was going to need a good, solid meal soon. Hopefully a human meal, although the thought of fresh, bloody meat was starting to sound good to the panther.

She fled again, not quite at the speed she’d gone before, but now intent to listen to the sounds of whoever was following her. She couldn’t be certain, but every few seconds her movements were quiet enough that she heard the sounds of someone crashing along behind her. They were keeping up with no problem. Panic made Jessabelle want to pour on the speed—but she’d already done that, hadn’t she?

Another minute of maintaining the pace, and she felt herself slow. She allowed it, continuing in a steady walk. The trees had thinned out as she’d descended, and a thin ribbon of asphalt stretched from left to right, following the floor of the hollow. She padded steadily toward it, listening over the sound of her own breath and beating heart.

“Cross.” “…ute.” “GPS.”

Jessabelle stopped and turned to the voice. She caught a glimpse of white hair and sea-green clothing that darted away at an impossible speed. Leaping back, Jessabelle scanned the trees around her for a sign of the girl. Once again, Jessabelle’s ears picked up the sound before her eyes spotted the girl. Jessabelle charged ahead at the figure crouched behind a tree, the white hair giving her away.

“Shit!” the girl whispered, and once again became a blur streaking across the hillside. This time, Jessabelle followed, but the young woman darted through the woods in a magical game of keep-away that was far beyond the panther’s ability. The witch moved at freeway speeds in the middle of the forest, darting and changing direction like a hummingbird. Perhaps a cheetah with a running start on flat ground could have caught her, but not Jessabelle.

Jessabelle turned again and ran for the road. Of course, the witch gave chase, no longer depending on stealth as she maintained a safe distance. Occasionally, she stopped and spoke into a hand-held radio.

There was no sense in pouring on the speed. The witch could keep up with ease. Nevertheless, Jessabelle maintained a good loping run, bounding over brush and ditch.

The truck arrived just as she approached the road. There was no time to stop and dive back into the forest and hide. The truck slammed on its brakes, and two men spilled out, pulling out their handguns.

Only seconds away from the men, Jessabelle maintained her pace, angling first away from the truck. When the crack of the first pistol shot pierced the air, Jessabelle turned and charged. She dodged to the side as the men aimed, hoping to spoil their shot. One of the two panicked and scrambled around to the other side of the truck. The other fired, and to Jessabelle’s ears an angry bee buzzed past her only inches away.

She leaped, not at the man who threatened her, but onto the hood of the truck. The guy who had taken cover shrieked and covered his head as he jumped away. Jessabelle bounded off the hood, her rear paws slipping slightly on the metal hood as her claws raked the paint. Another shot rang out, without the accompanying angry-bee sound of a bullet passing too close. Jessabelle turned to follow the road in the direction the vehicle had come from, hoping to put the truck between herself and the gunman. The final shot came seconds later, accompanied by swearing and shouts.

“Get in the truck, Larry!”

“I’m getting the rifle!”

“Forget the rifle, get in the truck!”

They’d have to turn around to follow her. When her ears picked up the distant sound of the doors of the truck slamming shut, Jessabelle changed direction, bolting up the slope on the other side of the road and returning to her more-or-less northern run.

The adrenaline gave her a jolt of energy, and the terror made her forget her exhaustion. Sprinting along several hundred yards of wooded, uneven terrain, her surge failed her. She slowed again before her momentum forced her to stumble. She had to catch a breather, if only for a few minutes. The truck couldn’t follow her here.

But the witch had. Again, her ears picked up the whispers into the radio as the white-haired young woman reported all of her movements by radio. Eventually, the bad guys would arrive in larger numbers. They would surround Jessabelle, and she’d no longer be able to run. The amulet between her teeth would burn out and fail, and the witches would once again take her prisoner. Maybe they’d put a collar around her neck to control her, a collar enchanted with her own blood.

Jessabelle strode over the hillside at an easy pace. The witch waited until she’d gone a few dozen yards, and then zipped across the distance to a decent vantage point.

The hunter had become complacent. Perhaps rightfully so. What could Jessabelle do to her? She couldn’t get close; she couldn’t get very far away. The role reversal frustrated and frightened the part of her brain that belonged to the panther. Instinct kept trying to kick in, fight or flight, but neither would be successful, and she did not have the energy for it.

Yet. From long experience, Jessabelle knew that a quick transformation into another form and back would temporarily reduce her fatigue and give the panther another surge of energy that might last several minutes. But then what? And how long before reinforcements arrived?

This was a problem for Jessabelle-the-girl to figure out. It took a bit to think through the panther’s overpowering instincts. She couldn’t outrun the witch. But could she outsmart her?

Orienting herself to another ridge where the trees seemed thicker, Jessabelle pushed her way up the slope. One foot ahead of the other, no hurry. The witch zipped along to close the distance as she made her way halfway up, which was fine. If roles were reversed, Jessabelle would pick a vantage point along the ridge to keep an eye on a slowly-fleeing ninety-pound great cat. She trusted the white-haired witch would do the same. However, the witch was skillfully maintaining a safe distance, which meant that on the other side of the ridge, there’d be a few seconds where Jessabelle could disappear.

She found herself in danger of stumbling as she ascended, and she exaggerated her correction. Let the witch underestimate her exhaustion. Or maybe correctly estimate her exhaustion. Either way.

As she neared the top of the slope, Jessabelle picked out a tree. It had low branches, good bark, and lots of leaves of its own and neighboring trees. Instinctively, she knew it would be a good place to hide, but not for a big panther.

At the top of the ridge, she bolted forward with her last bit of strength, to land near the base of the tree. She transformed into the housecat in mid-flight, something she’d never tried to do before. It worked, but her momentum carried her into the tree rather than landing at the base. She grabbed hold for dear life with her claws, and scrambled up several more feet before freezing.

She’d made too much noise. If the witch heard her, or saw the wiggling branches, there would be no hiding. Jessabelle froze, claws digging into the bark and wood of her perch. She didn’t move her head to look for the girl, in fear that the additional movement might give her away. Eventually, she caught sight of the white hair and sea-green blouse, which had become considerably more see-through after being torn up in the high-speed chase. Apparently the witchcraft that gave her incredible speed didn’t protect her from getting torn up by brambles as she ran.

The girl moved in several successive sprints, trying to catch sight of the panther. She held the radio to her cheek and said, “Hang on, I can’t see her right now.”

Good. Jessabelle willed the girl to keep moving, keep pursuing a phantom cat for miles and miles so Jessabelle could quietly flee in another direction. At one point, it looked like the witch would do exactly that, but then she raced back to the top of the ridge a few feet away to scan the hillside.

She wasn’t leaving.

“I think she’s hiding,” she said into her radio. “I’m not seeing any movement.”

Jessabelle couldn’t hear what the person on the other end said, but the girl answered, “Uh-huh. I’m being careful. She might be trying to hunt me. I’ll be fine.”

The girl moved at normal speed now, bobbing her head to try and get a better look at whatever might be lurking in the brush or behind the trees along the hillside. Two birds flew off from a spot not far from her, and the witch stifled a shriek as she jumped away.

Her eyes only scanned the ground, the thick brush. She did not look up.

Her path took her only a few feet from Jessabelle’s perch.

Maybe she could try being the hunter after all.

Jessabelle sprang from her perch, aiming for the girl’s head. Once again, in mid-flight, she transformed. The amulet, which had been in her teeth before she’d turned into the smaller cat, also reappeared, falling to the ground somewhere along her flight path. The witch collapsed, falling sideways, and screamed as she scrambled back to her feet.

Jessabelle didn’t let her. She bit the girl’s leg. The girl’s scream grew louder as the blood flowed. Jessabelle realized how hungry she was. She did not feel the horror of meat and blood inside her fangs. The girl struggled, kicking at Jessabelle’s face with her other foot.

Jessabelle let go only to jump onto the girl, claws sinking into her flesh. She bared her fangs inches from the girl’s throat.

The witch’s scream dissolved into a choking noise as she looked upon her death hovering a split second away. A flash and a rip of fangs, and she would never be able to pursue Jessabelle, or anyone else, again. The Coven would be down one more witch, just as the mission had dictated.

“Please don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me!” the girl sobbed. She kept repeating the words like a mantra. To the panther, they were meaningless.

Jessabelle-the-girl, wherever she was, was still in charge. Barely. She looked down at the girl’s hand. She still clutched the radio in a death grip. In a quick strike, Jessabelle bit into the plastic device. It didn’t break immediately, but the witch lost her grip, screaming again into Jessabelle’s ear.

Jessabelle chomped the device, ignoring the terrible metal tang as it cracked into pieces under her back teeth. She dropped the radio, the chunks streaked with the girl’s blood. Jessabelle cried out exultantly, her roar sounding somewhat like the young woman’s screams. The girl beneath her sobbed more.

She’d live, if she found medical attention. Jessabelle carefully stepped off the girl, and then charged off into the forest.

Maybe this was a terrible mistake. Maybe the witch would heal herself and pursue revenge. In the end, the girl with the white hair might hunt Jessabelle down and kill her. It was a very real risk. Maybe it wasn’t mercy. Maybe it was just Jessabelle was afraid to do what had to be done to a temporarily defenseless enemy. Leon or Lisbet might have harsh words to say to her. But they weren’t here, and at the moment, it felt like the right thing.

At least she no longer heard the sounds of pursuit.

Jenny had trouble watching the videos. It wasn’t an emotional reaction—although she felt hollow on the inside after witnessing the colors and sound of Hattie’s death. The Sight wasn’t well adapted to viewing two dimensional images, and the colors and shapes came to her in a blurry mess that she had to consciously order into pictures. It reminded her that the Sight was no substitute for her eyes.

She’d been broken the morning she had learned her parents had died. Hattie had come to her rescue. She’d put Jenny’s pieces back together the best as she could. And now, when Hattie was in the most distress, nobody had been there to rescue her. They’d been oblivious.

Now Jenny was broken again. Her disfigured body now matched her spirit. But this time Hattie would not be there to pick her back up again. And her Grandma Annie was literally a world away, locked behind sealed Crossroads. Her only other living family was…where? That attack in the news was this morning, wasn’t it? Jessabelle, at least, should be here on Earth somewhere. Possibly back at Josie’s.

In the other videos, Thadeus used the power he’d learned from Avery to absorb more spirits. Sean seemed particularly upset when Thadeus visited an old graveyard in Maple Bend and proceeded to devour the spirits that remained there.

In the final video, the others explained that Thadeus stood at the Crossroads at Maple Bend. With the help of two other witches, he harvested the spirit of his own daughter. When it was done, one of the witches asked him if it had worked. Thadeus turned to her and screamed, “Yes, dammit, now get away from me! All of you! Go! Cut the video! Let an old man grieve!”

Her friends lowered their heads, defeated. “He can come through any time he wants,” Sean said. “That’s all he needed from his daughter.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Jack said.

Hattie’s death left an emptiness in Jenny’s heart. Not even grief, just emptiness. Maybe it was the emptiness that made the logic and details come through. She could think clearly. She could also sense the doubt and fear in her enemy’s voice. “He doesn’t know that for sure, either.”

“What makes you say that?” Debbie asked.

“His voice. Listen to it across the three videos. In the first two, he’s smug. In that last one, he’s trying to act smug, but he’s nervous. More than nervous, he’s terrified.”

“Why?” Jack asked. “It’s not like the Crossroads are going to reach out and grab him.”

“Maybe they will. I don’t know. But that’s his weakness. That’s where he came from, and that’s what can kill him. If he’s wrong, he’ll be more than trapped there. He’ll be destroyed. Even worse than what happened to the humans who got trapped there. At least they still got their ghosts or spirits or whatever left in one piece. Whatever makes him up will be torn to pieces.”

Jack folded his arms and sat back on the couch. “So we just get to wait and see if he’s wrong or not?”

“I wouldn’t count on him being wrong,” Sean said. “I don’t know what choice we have, really. Maybe, if he’s that scared, he won’t even try to go through. That’s a really big risk. And for what? Revenge? The people who exiled him here are long gone.”

Debbie shook her head. “Y’all actually believe he’d give up a grudge that easily? He killed me and gave my body as a present to his daughter because I poked around his business and because he knew I was close to Annie. Annie and Mama Norton have a long history with this guy. He’ll do it. He is patient, but determined. Even if it takes a hundred years, he’ll follow through.”

Sean nodded. “I guess you’re right. I mean, he re-created the Crossroads after Leendert destroyed the previous one.”

Jenny quietly added, “He hunted my parents for years.”

Debbie nodded. “Yeah. Once his preparations are complete, he’s going through. If the Wardens aren’t ready for him, he’ll rip right through them.”

Sean shook his head. “I don’t think the Wardens will be ready for him. The Wardens don’t remember how they got him in the first place.”

“It’s worth a shot, though,” Jack said. “I mean, maybe we can get them a warning. There’s a one-way Crossroads near here, right?”

“It’s a deathtrap on the other side,” Sean said. “The Wardens aren’t taking any chances after the Coven sent the commandos through. They told me they are ready for an army of witches and warriors. It’s a shoot first, ask questions later situation now. The Man in the White Suit might make it, even if he’s half-dead from the trip through the Crossroads. We poor humans probably wouldn’t.”

Jack held up his amulet. “I could survive a few shots.”

“Enough to make a difference?”

“Why don’t they just seal the other side, like they did the other two?”

“Because there’s nothing to seal on the other side,” Jenny answered. “The Crossroads only exist on this side. It’s like getting shot out of a cannon.” Even as she answered the question, the idea intrigued Jenny. Maybe you could seal it from the inside. But at that point, one might as well destroy it, because you’d be locking yourself in. She thought back to the dream she’d had after escaping the Crossroads.

A key turned in the front door before she could pursue the thought any further. A young man of about twenty stepped into the room, and said, “Okay, somebody better explain what the hell you are doing in my…oh! Hi, Sean.”

Sean’s expression ran the gamut from embarrassed, to happy, to dismayed. He stood up and looked around the room. “Everybody, this is my old roommate, Blake. Blake, this is Sean, Jack, Jenny, and Debbie.”

Blake closed the door behind him, and nodded to the group as he looked them over. His gaze lingered briefly on Jenny, and then he quickly looked away. He stopped at Debbie. “Cool. Debbie, huh? You look really familiar…”

“Sean has pictures of me on his computer.”

“Wait…what? Huh-uh!” Blake blinked, and looked to Sean. “The girl from that Halloween? The ghost girl?”

Sean nodded. Blake took a few moments to puzzle things out, and said, “You look just like her! And you have the same name. No wonder Sean got so confused. He had me going for months thinking that I’d taken a picture of a ghost. You know he was pretty crazy looking for you. I’m glad he found you. The real you, not the ghost.”

Debbie just nodded graciously. “I’m very glad he found me, too.”

Blake pointed to the bedroom. “Oh, hey, my cousin lives here now, in your room. Sorry, man. I had no idea you were coming back.”

“I’m not really back. We just needed a place for a few hours.”

Blake nodded. “I saw! You are, like, wanted by the law and everything! They came here asking about you a few weeks back, but I told them I hadn’t seen you since you graduated. I didn’t even mention your box. So what did you do, man? That is insane! Totally off the hook!”

Sean lowered his gaze. “Basically, I pissed off some powerful people.”

Blake broke into a wide grin. “Cool! That sounds bad-ass! Hey, you guys can stick around as long as you want. I just have to pick up my cousin in a couple of hours.”

Jack asked the obvious question. “Can your cousin be trusted not to call the cops if he recognizes Sean?”

Blake nodded. “Oh, yeah. Phillip is totally cool.”

Jenny didn’t feel comforted. She didn’t think Blake was lying, at least not deliberately. He was just one of the oblivious ones. They were the easiest ones to make ignore her and forget her. At least, they used to be. She caught his glance. Whether she only imagined his look of disgust or if he’d let it slip for an instant, she didn’t know. But he’d noticed. She’d never be able to hide in a crowd again.

Let them notice. She thought back to the dream. She knew it wasn’t really a dream; it was a memory, one among many, that the ghosts inside the Crossroads had given her. Time meant little inside the Crossroads, especially for the dead. They’d passed on their knowledge as best as they could, because they wanted their sacrifice to mean something. Now she was permanently scarred and partly blind from her own experiences, and she wanted it to mean something, too. They had to do something to make that dearly-bought knowledge worthwhile.

Blake returned to his room after introductions, and Jenny spoke quietly to Sean. “In the video, they mentioned you and the old priest.”

“Leendert, yeah.”

“Is he still with you?”

“I don’t know. No, that’s wrong. Yes, he’s there. Part of him is there. But it’s not like a ghost that’s there constantly. Not like he was. It’s more of—I don’t know—a presence or feeling or something.”

“Could he still destroy the Crossroads? Like he did when he was alive?”

“I really don’t know. His ghost believed so before Avery attacked him. Now? I don’t know. It wasn’t like he popped up at Josie’s house or anything and offered to shut it down for me.”

“I get the feeling that the one at Maple Bend is unusually large or powerful. That’s why we had problems with monsters coming through it so easily. It may be very difficult to destroy now, especially from the outside.”

Sean looked at her sideways, his left eye squinted. “How much do you know about the Crossroads now? Do you know how to shut them down?”

Jenny shook her head. “Not exactly. I understand a lot more about what the Crossroads are and how they work. The ghosts—the voices…” She stopped. This was too much to explain. She didn’t fully understand this part herself. She’d been force-fed knowledge and memories that were not her own, and had spent hours beside the Crossroads trying to make sense of it all. “I think Thadeus might have waited so long so that the one in Maple Bend could grow.”

“It didn’t seem that different from the one at the Ankrums’.”

“I know. It’s not just it’s exterior size, but the flow…”

“You’re losing me again.”

Jenny smiled. “The inside of the Crossroads is weird. Time and distance are all messed up. Closing or sealing the Crossroads is more like patching a hole in the wall than shutting something down that isn’t supposed to be there. I just hoped Leendert could teach us how to close them.”

Sean nodded. “Yeah, that was what my road trip with the Wardens was supposed to be about. If I could have made him come out on demand and explain it to us, it would have saved us a lot of wasted time.”

Something else from her dream made her think. “The one-way portal that Jessabelle found. Do you or Debbie know where it is, exactly?”

“Not exactly. I know it’s a few miles south of Morgantown. It comes out at a place called Fort Zellan. The Wardens have it heavily guarded.”

“Jessabelle said it was in a place called Callan. I remembered it because I have a friend by the same name. It’s common Around the Bend. I wonder if that’s how the place got its name?”

“Thadeus probably knows, but I’m not going to ask him.” Sean clicked and typed on the computer, and came up with a map. Jenny had to concentrate and focus to see any of it with clarity. The Sight just didn’t know what to do with it. With a bit of help from Sean, she had a good feel for where it was. Sean asked, “Okay, since you are an expert in the Crossroads: Is it possible to send something like an object across, without a person behind it?”

“Like a message?”

“I was thinking more like a bomb. But, sure. A message would be great.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Thadeus and his daughter were able to communicate one character at a time without someone hand-delivering the message. But without a mind or spirit, I don’t know how something would cross through at all. Remember, even though it feels instant, you actually cross a very long distance between here and Around the Bend. It’s that spirit or something like that which allows us to be carried from one side to the other.”

“I guess that makes sense. Otherwise you’d have wind, dust, and who knows what else flowing freely between the worlds. Or maybe we do. I wish I’d thought to ask the Wardens to show me Fort Zellan. Maybe there’s a way to survive and get them a message. I just never expected to consider going through it.”

“I suppose putting your hands up and shouting ‘don’t shoot’ wouldn’t be enough.”

He laughed and shook his head. “If only. After those Coven commandos wiped out the whole base, they don’t want to take any chances. They’ve moved defenses from the Citadel to the fort. The defenses were designed to stop a small army—or Thadeus’s daughter.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

She looked down at the pile of Sean’s things. “What’s in the metal box?”

“Oh, that? Nothing. I think some pens and an old phone. Go ahead and open it up and see.”

She did. It contained exactly what Sean said it would. She pulled out a pen, and looked at the stationery. “Mind if I use some of this?”

Sean shrugged, looking back at the computer. “Go right ahead. None of that means as much to me as I thought it would. My sister gave me the stationery when I went away to college, but I think I sent all of two letters to her. We always chatted through text and email.”

“Thanks.”

The beginnings of a plan formed in her head. The Wardens were expecting witches and soldiers to come through the portals—not Thadeus himself. What would they do differently if they knew? Was Thadeus strong enough to break the seal himself? Maybe now he was. The Wardens would have to keep all of their best witches at Blood Creek to hold out against him, not to mention soldiers to weaken him with a constant assault, but hadn’t they done that already? They’d pulled most of Lisbet’s forces away to do exactly that. Especially now that they had warning that Thadeus had an imminent attack planned…

But there was one portal they could not seal—the little one-way Crossroads at Callan. It was a deathtrap, as Sean had said, but the portal literally didn’t exist on the other side. It merely dumped travelers out. It could be sealed from the inside, as the Wardens in her dream had attempted, but of course that came at the ultimate cost.

Thadeus didn’t know the Wardens had forgotten how to fight him. He suspected Crossroad travel would leave him temporarily weakened and injured. He’d been playing it safe for decades, letting the Blood Creek portal grow quietly without exploiting it.

The answer was obvious.

She used a kitchen countertop to write two letters on the stationery—one to Annabelle Rose, one to Commander Lisbet Crane.

The one to Grandma Annie was the hardest. Jenny felt her grief finally unleash as she wrote it. It hurt even more knowing that if Grandma Annie read this note rather than receiving the message in person, it would probably mean Jenny had failed and was dead as well. This didn’t fill Jenny with any new sense of dread, only the sorrow of knowing her grandmother would deal with two deaths at once.

The one to Commander Crane was considerably easier. She had no recommendations, only a warning. “Hothlurian may be able to use the Crossroads now. Warn the rest of the Wardens. I think he may be planning to come through Fort Zellan while the Coven keeps most of the Wardens occupied at Blood Creek. Your friend, Jenny Morgan. P.S. Please give my warm regards to Arlan and Callan.” She crossed out the word “Crossroads” and wrote the word “Gateways,” as that was how the Wardens referred to them. Of course, Lisbet would know what she meant. But she might not be the one who read the letter, regardless of how it was addressed.

When she was done, she addressed an envelope to “Commander Lisbet Crane of the Wardens.” While it would probably be an overkill, she also wrote “URGENT!” on the envelope and underlined it twice. She quietly removed the old cell phone and the pens from the metal box, put the letter inside, and then latched the box shut.

About an hour later, Blake announced he was going to pick up his cousin. Jenny volunteered to go with him. He looked surprised, and said, “It’s just down to campus and back.”

“I know. I’d just like to get out of here for a few minutes. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Come on.”

Jenny took her bag and the metal box with her, hoping no one would notice. As she got out the door, Jack said, “Hey, maybe I should go, too.” Debbie seemed enthusiastic about the idea.

Jenny pretended not to have heard Jack as she closed the apartment door behind her.

She wished she could have said goodbye to everyone. If they knew her plan, they’d demand to go with her. She would have done the same. She hoped they’d forgive her one day.

Blake’s cousin, Phillip, was built like a jock, but was as quiet as Blake was loud. Naturally, he did a little bit of a double-take when he saw Jenny. She imagined what he saw. A girl who looked like a refugee from the burn victims’ ward. Scars and hairlessness under sunglasses and boy’s clothing. He greeted her silently and got into the back of the car.

Jenny went back to concentrating. She’d been trained all her life to be virtually invisible. Evelyn had perfected it with witchcraft. Jenny didn’t know how she did it, and had no time to learn it, but she tried tugging at the strands of magic in her Sight to conceal her. The problem, of course, was that her first attempt to use it might be her last.

Blake said, “Hey, dude, before we get home, I want to talk to you.”

Phillip shrugged, staring out the window without a glance at his cousin. “Sure.”

“My old roommate came by for a visit. He’s at our apartment now.”

“Oh, okay.” After a beat, something registered and he sat up straight, staring at Blake. “Wait! You mean the one wanted by the police?”

“He’s not really wanted. They just want to ask him some questions.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“He can’t answer them right now. So no calling the cops about him, okay?” Blake said.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“He’ll be gone long before that.”

“Oh. Okay.” Phillip went back to looking out the window.

“He won’t call,” Blake said to Jenny.

She smiled at Blake. “Hey, I have another favor to ask.”

Blake said, “Oh, okay. Shoot.”

“After we drop off Phillip, can you give me a ride somewhere?”

“Where? To the store?”

“No, it’s a little place a few minutes south of town.”

“We can go there right now if you want. If Phillip’s okay with it.”

Phillip looked up. “Sure, whatever.”

Jenny gave him instructions on how to get there. “It’s a tiny place called Callan. I don’t think it’s even on most maps.”

“Wow. You got family there or something?”

She nodded absently. “Kind of, yeah.”

* * *

It took them twenty minutes to get to Callan, and by then it was getting dark. They ended up going past the access road twice trying to find it. The third time, Blake pulled his little rusty hatchback onto the tiny little road and said, “We haven’t tried this one, yet.”

The bumps jostled Phillip out of his reverie. “Hey, you sure about this, Blake?”

Blake said, “Nah. But does it matter? We gotta get this girl home to her family!”

“Okay, but don’t bottom out the car!”

They came to a stop at a gate. On either side was a chain-link fence. The dirt surrounding the heavy fence-posts was brown and looked freshly dug. The gate itself was wooden slats with metal plates connecting them.

According to her cousin, Callan was an abandoned community, sort of a Potemkin Village of houses where nobody had lived, and a graveyard where no one was buried. Jessabelle never mentioned the fence, although as a cat it would have been easy for her to slip under it or between the gaps without giving it a second thought. However, this looked new.

New was dangerous. This was supposed to be the easy part of her plan.

Jenny opened the door and gathered her bag and the metal box in dim glow of the inside light. “I’ll get out here. You guys head on back.” She tried to make her voice sound casual yet urgent. It sounded fearful to her.

Blake shook his head. “No, way, we gotta make sure you get to your family safely. We can’t leave you stranded out here.” He honked his horn. “We’ll get someone to let us through.”

Jenny almost screamed. “No. You guys have to turn around and go now! Quickly!”

“What are you talking about?” Blake said. “Aren’t they expecting you?”

“No!” She closed the door and stepped in front of the gate. While it looked heavy, it was also mounted on wheels. There was a latch on the other side, and a heavy bar that someone could push to slide the gate back. Getting to the latch from this side was a trick, however. She inspected the chain-link fence and wondered if it was possible for her to climb it.

Blake turned on his high beams and got out of the car. He called back, “Come on, Phillip. Let’s see if we can move that gate.”

Jenny blocked Phillips door as he reached to open it. “No, you guys! I lied. I don’t have family here, exactly. But there might be people here who would try to kill us.”

“You got that right,” a voice said behind her. From two directions, flashlights slung underneath rifles illuminated the three of them. “Everyone raise your hands where we can see them!”

Jenny raised the bag and the metal box in her hands, trying to think of something she could do while also counting flashlights. There were three on the other side of the car, and she had no idea how many were behind her. Before she had a chance to think very much on the situation, someone grabbed her bag from her hands. The steel box tumbled to the ground. She bent over to grab the box, and someone struck her with the butt of a rifle. The impact erupted in a flash of blue from her amulet that didn’t cause her any pain, but it knocked her over.

Phillip sat in the car with his hands up. One of the riflemen yelled at him, “Get out of the car! Now!” Phillip struggled with the door, and the muzzle of the rifle pointed directly at his head.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he cried as he stepped out of the vehicle, immediately raising his hands.

“Who sent you?” one of the shadowy riflemen demanded of Blake.

“Who sent me?” Blake responded.

“Yes.”

“Um, aren’t you supposed to read me my rights?” Blake asked.

The man pointed the gun at Blake’s head. “You have the right to have your brains splattered all over your car if you don’t answer my question.”

“I don’t think these are cops, Blake,” Phillip said.

“Jenny sent us.”

“Jenny?” a woman’s voice asked. “Jenny Morgan?”

“I guess so.”

“Where is she?”

Blake nodded where Jenny was sprawled on the ground. “That’s her.”

A woman stepped into the lights above Jenny. Jenny squinted to try and get a good look at her, but couldn’t make out her features from her silhouetted form. She wore a padded black vest, forest green pants, and hiking boots. A revolver on her hip glinted in the lights. The woman leaned over Jenny and said, “I guess I see the resemblance. It looks like you’ve been through hell.”

Jenny nodded at the surprisingly sympathetic voice among all the soldiers. The woman said, “I’m Kelly. Your mother was my mentor and teacher. I cared for her a great deal.” Her voice grew hard, and the sympathy vanished. “She betrayed all of us, but me most of all. This girl’s wearing an extremely powerful protective amulet, boys. If and when I give you the word to kill her, empty your magazines into her. Better an overkill than to give her a chance to recover.”

Blake stared at her open-mouthed. “Uh, Jenny? What’s going on?”

Kelly turned to face him. Now, illuminated by the lights, Jenny could see her more clearly. The woman seemed to be in her forties, and was absolutely striking with an almost unearthly beauty. Her tumbling hair, held out of her face by a stretchy black headband, was white gold. Her tight red lips glistened in the night with some astonishingly glossy lipstick. Her eyes marred her appearance. They were cold gray and merciless. “What’s happening? You bumpkins just accidentally stumbled into the invasion of another country. Which makes you prisoners of war.”

Blake blinked in the glare. “An invasion? Wait, you mean like the news this morning?”

Kelly sighed. “I would think Amy’s daughter would have chosen brighter henchmen. Take them to the basement and secure them. I want at least three guards down there at all times. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Kelly took Jenny’s equipment, including the metal box, the entire reason for being there. The guards opened the gate and marched the three of them into a weather-worn white house. The inside, while relatively small, proved to be filled with modern equipment—radio systems, computers, and screens displaying several different video feeds. Six people with headsets manned the systems in what should have been the living room. Four more guards sat in the dining room, eating sandwiches.

Jenny, Blake, and Phillip were led down to an unfinished basement. The floor was bare concrete, and the walls were unpainted cinder block. The guards set up metal folding chairs for them to sit in, and then used zip-ties to tie their ankles to the front legs. Their wrists were tied to the metal sides of the seat back. At first it didn’t seem so bad, but after a few minutes Jenny grew uncomfortable in the metal seat, and her bonds prevented her from wiggling into a more comfortable position.

Blake and Phillip seemed even more uncomfortable. Phillip kept twisting, and said, “Okay, Blake, if I survive this, I’m switching my degree to sports medicine.”

Blake yanked at the zip-ties with no success, although one of the three guards watching them flinched slightly. For once, he was speechless. When he looked at Jenny, his eyes were full of blame.

She deserved it. Again. Why did she keep doing this to people? She’d left the others behind because she knew how dangerous this would be, even focusing all her efforts on concealing and protecting herself. She’d earned every bit of blame that Blake chose to assign her.

Kelly’s boots echoed on the wooden steps in the empty basement. She stepped down the stairs as if she was an actress making her big entrance in a movie. Her features and makeup looked a little less perfect in the harsh glare of the bare basement light bulbs. She smiled at Jenny, but her eyes didn’t change. “I hope the men didn’t rough you up too much.”

Screw it. Jenny came here half-expecting to die, anyway. She wanted the woman to focus on her. “Nope. You know, this is my third time getting captured like this, and it’s the most comfortable. Thanks.”

“If this is your third time, then you should know better than to taunt your captor.”

“That’s just the truth. I figured you were going to question me, so I was getting things started. But let those two go free. I just hitched a ride with them. They don’t know anything. They’d never met me until tonight.”

“That’s too bad, because they’ve seen too much for me to let them go now. That’s your fault. I need them down here with you.”

Jenny’s mind raced. She had to force the conversation somewhere other than how did she get here. She didn’t even want Kelly to think of the possibility that Jenny had come from Around the Bend. That line of questioning would ruin everything—or at least make the job easier for Thadeus. Although the idea of being controlled again terrified her, she feigned bravery. “I assume you are going to remove my amulet now.”

“No, I’m not falling for that,” Kelly said. “Putting magical booby-traps on protective amulets was one of your mother’s favorite tricks.”

Jenny tried to keep her face neutral, but the idea impressed her. Not that she knew any witchcraft to create a trap like that, but she liked the idea. Why had she never suspected her mother was capable of such things? She wished more than ever that she could see her mother again and talk about these things with her.

Maybe in the next life.

Kelly bent down to look Jenny in the eye. “Do you know what my favorite trick is?”

Jenny found herself involuntarily tilting her head back, away from Kelly’s face. “No. I have no idea who you are.”

“It’s curses. Deadly curses. I’m second only to Thadeus on that front. Amy had no idea of what I was capable of. Even Evelyn couldn’t match me.”

Jenny forced her head forward, making Kelly stare into Jenny’s blind, mostly-dead eyes. “Good for you,” she said slowly. “Maybe he won’t murder you like he did Evelyn, then.”

She couldn’t tell if Kelly was unfazed by the comment, or was just good at maintaining a poker-face. Blake, on the other hand, had been listening to the witchcraft discussion with slack-jawed incredulity. The mention of murder got his attention, and his eyebrows furrowed. He closed his mouth and gulped.

Kelly stood erect and shook her head. “I’m not going to fail like she did.” From somewhere inside her vest, she pulled out an envelope. The envelope, the one Jenny had kept protected inside the metal box. The one she’d hoped would remain intact even if she failed. The top of the flap had already been cut open. Kelly reached in and slid out Jenny’s two hand-written notes. “Now, I’m very interested in learning that Annabelle Rose is alive, and how you came to know this. But first things first, Jenny. I’d like to know more about this Commander Lisbet Crane. Tell me about her.”

The world came crashing down around Jenny, and she couldn’t maintain her cavalier expression. She didn’t dare speak, because she knew her voice would break. She bit her top lip.

Kelly waited for several seconds. Then she shrugged. “That’s okay. I wanted to show you those curses I was talking about anyway. They are very painful. Some work very slow. Others can kill in minutes. I’ll start with a slow but very painful one for one of your boyfriends, here. For the other one, we’ll use something a bit more excruciating and faster-acting. They both look pretty strong, so it’ll probably take at least a couple of hours before it triggers a heart attack.”

“No!” Jenny cried out. “Don’t hurt them! They are innocent. They don’t know anything.”

Kelly nodded, smiling cruelly. “I think you are telling the truth. But the same can’t be said for you. Since I can’t just read your mind, we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.” She once more reached into her belt, and retrieved an old-fashioned hand-fan. She unfolded it, spat on the ground at each of the boys, and then waved the fan in the air in flowing patterns while chanting in something that sounded like Latin.

When she was done, she carefully folded the fan and replaced it inside her vest. “Now, we’ll just let that build for a little bit. I should be able to remove the curses if we do it early enough. In the meantime, I’m going to go back upstairs and watch some television. When you are ready to talk, tell one of the guards to get me.”

The middle-aged lady giving Jessabelle a ride seemed nice and chatty for the first few minutes of the trip, and appeared honestly concerned for a young girl like Jessabelle trying to catch a ride. It was Jessabelle’s second hitchhiking ride of the afternoon, and it was taking her most of the way to her destination. In that way, she reminded Jessabelle of the truck driver, Mike, that took her to Callan the first time.

Once she’d made it to civilization and was reasonably sure she’d lost her pursuers, she found a phone and called Josie. They’d talked in the same coded messages they’d planned out when she was searching for Elise. Of necessity, the conversation was vague on concrete details, but it sounded like the rest of her friends were gone and hadn’t returned. Jessabelle had left an equally cryptic message with Josie. “Tell them that Uncle H. is going to be teaching at the University, and that I’ll try and meet them at my cousin’s friend’s house…the one with the burn scars.”

Yeah. Probably not the best coded message from Jessabelle Rose, International Super-Spy, but it would have to do in a pinch. Nobody other than Thadeus himself would think “Uncle H.” meant Hothlurian, and nobody on this side would know Callan’s name.

Jessabelle ignored her growling stomach, and hoped the woman—Karen—wouldn’t hear it over the sound of the car cruising up I-79. As she talked, the woman glanced at Jessabelle several times with a thoughtful look. Jessabelle countered it by staring out the passenger’s side window and watching the road signs go past, making polite but noncommittal comments to keep the woman talking. Morgantown, fifty miles. Morgantown, forty miles. While this was the longest leg of her journey, it was going by very quickly.

Just past the fifteen-mile marker, the radio played a short news update, and mentioned updates on the police search for the “brutal attack on construction workers and surveyors” in the mountains of central West Virginia that morning. The woman stopped chatting. Jessabelle glanced over, and Karen stared straight ahead, her knuckles almost white where she gripped the steering wheel. Even in human form, Jessabelle could smell her fear, if the body language didn’t say enough.

“So what were you saying about your son?” Jessabelle asked, trying to sound as innocent and non-threatening as possible.

“Oh. Nothing. He was accepted onto the men’s volleyball team at WVU.” She did not elaborate, and did not look at Jessabelle.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, of course not,” the woman said, her voice drowning out the radio commercials.

“Okay,” Jessabelle said. Was it even possible to change this woman’s mind? “So long as you’re sure. It would be nice to go to a school like WVU. But I don’t reckon we could afford it.”

“Oh,” Karen said. “That’s too bad. So, um, you are in high school?”

Jessabelle mentally kicked herself for saying too much. “Kind of. I’m, uh, home-schooled. By my grandma.” But was today a school day? It was now September. School had already started. “But not today. She’s out of town.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” They rode in silence for a few minutes after that, as Karen looked repeatedly at her dash board and ahead along the road. Suddenly, Karen pulled onto an off ramp and said, “Hey, I need to get some gas. Would you like some gum or something?”

The gas gauge was at just under half, and they were six miles from Morgantown. “No, thank you, ma’am,” Jessabelle said.

Karen parked in the parking lot of the gas station convenience store, and nearly bolted out of the car. “I’m getting some gum first,” she said. “Then some gas. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the store, leaving Jessabelle in the car.

Jessabelle watched through the window as the woman disappeared down the candy aisle. Jessabelle waited a minute to see if Karen emerged with a package of gum to take to the register. Nobody took that long to pick out gum. She unlatched the safety belt and exited the car just as Karen peeked around the aisle to look at her, cell phone to her ear.

Jessabelle gently closed the car door behind her before walking away, just to avoid drawing any further attention. There were too many people around, and it was broad daylight. She walked at a casual pace, trying not to attract anyone’s attention. She was just some girl, a nobody, walking toward the crosswalk, about to cross the street, not worth noticing until she was well out of sight.

Maybe she’d become Public Enemy Number One, after all? Thadeus probably had enough pull to make it happen, after they’d seen her at the King’s house following Leon’s attack. She was already wanted for questioning. With the violence of the Wardens’ attack, there was enough of a threat to make more people than just Karen antsy.

She made it across the street and past a fast-food restaurant and a Methodist church. A hundred yards further, an old tree-shrouded side-street trailed off to nowhere, in the opposite direction of the freeway. Three more minutes of calm, casual strolling, and Jessabelle-the-girl would disappear once more.

She heard the car roll close to her as she neared the intersection. She fought off the urge to run, or even to look over her shoulder. Jessabelle Rose, International Spy was simply an innocent sixteen-year-old girl minding her own business. It would have worked perfectly if her legs hadn’t forgotten how to walk like a human at that very moment. She concentrated on every step, trying to walk normally, but she was certain that she began wobbling like a cow on stilts at that moment.

The police siren squawked an electronic warning sound, and a voice yelled, “Stop right there!”

She froze. For a brief moment she considered running. Could she make it? Could her charm still protect her if they shot her? A dozen different scenarios flew through her mind, none of them ending very well, until she was left with no other option but to comply. Her window of escape was gone. For now.

“Put your hands on your head and turn around slowly,” the voice called. She did as she was told. Two police officers stood just outside the car, with the doors open. One aimed a strange weapon at her, while the other stood with his hand on the pistol at his hip. Behind them, people looked through the windows of the restaurant or watched from parking lots at the diversion that was her life at this moment.

“It’s definitely her,” the officer holding the plastic weapon said. The other nodded and ordered her to lay down, face first. Once she did so, he came behind her and handcuffed her hands behind her, pulled her firmly to her feet, and guided her to the police car.

There was a cage in the back seat of the cruiser. While it was clearly of the right size and shape for a person, it reminded her of the cage the Coven had held her in when they stole her from her home.

She was not going to stand for cages anymore.

Until this summer, she’d kept her abilities secret from almost everyone, including her own mother. In spite of this, the Coven had known. Thadeus had known. Since going Around the Bend, she’d not made too much of a point in keeping it hidden. It still surprised and shocked people, but they lived in a world where that was far from the most astonishing thing they dealt with. Did it matter anymore here in this world?

The officer put his hand against her head to guide her into the back seat, into the cage. As she lowered her head, she transformed into the cat. Her hands—her paws—were no longer held by the handcuffs. The policeman no longer touched her. She bolted underneath the police cruiser and charged across the street, easily avoiding the car that slowed to look at what was happening.

“What the hell?” the policeman cried as she took off through the weeds and down along the road, toward the safety of the trees. With luck, they wouldn’t even associate the cat with the girl who disappeared in front of them.

The way her luck had been going, she decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to rely on it.

* * *

It took Jessabelle hours to go the last few miles. As the cat, she traded speed for stealth. She avoided the busier streets, not only to avoid notice but to avoid the smells from some of the restaurants along them. Each whiff of food reminded her how hungry she was. It had been more than twelve hours since she’d last eaten, which would have taken its toll even if she hadn’t changed shape several times. Of her shapes, the cat was able to go the longest on the least food, probably due to size.

She wondered how the police had explained her escape. Were they sending out an all-points-bulletin right now, “Be on the lookout for a small black housecat wandering around south of Morgantown”? The thought amused her, but it also terrified her. She’d shown her ability to the police and to anyone else who had been watching. And who wouldn’t be watching? If she had been a bystander, she would have watched to see what was going on. As far as she was concerned, someone might have made a video of it on their phone.

Her old anxiety about what would happen if she got caught kept resurfacing, but what did it really mean? Now that she knew how things worked, she realized that it meant the Coven, or another organization just like them, might come after her. Since the Coven was already after her, it changed nothing. And maybe, just maybe, it would keep them busy trying to convince everyone that it was all just a hoax or an amusing mistake.

Not that she had much time. It sounded as though Thadeus intended to send an attack through tomorrow. Her best guess was that he was sending more soldiers through like he had last time, only more of them and better armed. Or, even worse, they might send some of their captive monsters through. Even without something as powerful as the Dwayyo, a few monsters, witches, and well-armed soldiers might be able to break through, just like they did last time.

Maybe she could interrupt them in the middle of their transit, and somehow give the Wardens a chance to fight back before the reinforcements arrived. However, she had no idea how she’d do it. She didn’t know how many troops Thadeus was sending, or how many Wardens would be waiting on the other side. Certainly more than the last time. A lot more…

Or not. They’d met with a lot of Wardens coming from the Fort, hadn’t they? Had they left the Fort more vulnerable? No, of course not. That would be stupid. Chief Warden Ulster might be an arrogant jerk of a leader, but he wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t have left the fort defenseless. But Thadeus had been right—the Wardens had concentrated their forces at Blood Creek, expecting the attack there. That made Morgantown an easier target.

No matter what, she couldn’t see what she could do to stop them. That wouldn’t stop her from trying.

Sneaking rides on the backs of trucks was much more of a challenge in the daylight. During “rush hour” she managed to accumulate four miles of relatively easy travel, but after the last attempt had caused the car behind to honk to get the truck driver’s attention out of fear of hurting the hitchhiking cat, she quit trying.

By the time she reached her destination, she felt like her legs would fall off. The pads of her feet had been torn up by hours of walking. She just wanted to sleep. Eat, then sleep. Her cat instincts had taken over, and every sound coming from the brush along the side of the road alerted her as a threat or potential meal. Jessabelle-the-girl was disgusted by the idea of eating a freshly-killed snake or mouse, but that persona’s distant opinion mattered less and less as the hours went on.

It was dark. A car sat outside the gate of a new chain-link fence. Did it surround the entire neighborhood and the graveyard? That would take a lot of fence. She bet that it came to an end somewhere inaccessible by a car. She’d investigate…

…Later. It didn’t look like an army had arrived. Thadeus wasn’t going to be here until tomorrow. She had time to scout, but she was so exhausted right now that it would be easy to make a mistake and get caught. Certainly, the Coven would be alerted by the presence of a black cat. She had to be very, very cautious. After she had a nap.

She forced herself to stumble a few hundred feet farther to a spot down a ravine and hidden by trees. Her first instinct was to climb the tree and find a branch on which she could perch. Her cat instincts told her that was the best approach. But her muscles were giving out. After making certain there were no predators nearby, she curled up behind the trees and slept.

She awoke to the sound of gunfire.

Sean puzzled at the new message on his computer screen, from Josie’s private bulletin board. He assumed it was from Josie. “Crazy cat lady called, BTW. Couldn’t talk long. She said Uncle H. was teaching at the university, and she’d be able to meet people at her cousin’s friend’s house. The one with the burn scars.”

If it was from Josie, then the ‘crazy cat lady’ was obviously Jessabelle. So she was back on Earth, as she’d planned. She was able to call, and was going somewhere, so she was free. That much, at least, was good. “Uncle H.” was a little more confusing. “Aunt H.” would have been Hattie, who was on all of their minds since seeing the terrible video on the thumb drive. The cousin would have to be Jenny, but it was strange that the message would specify that it was the cousin with the burn scars.

“It’s us!” Debbie exclaimed. She’d been monitoring the TV, half-paying attention to the non-stop coverage of the Warden attack, full of ridiculous speculation and blame. A new bulletin featured special, exclusive footage of “another violent encounter in West Virginia.” On the screen, Penny sat in a chair beside the anchors this time, narrating live the events that unfolded in the video. Everyone’s face was blurred out with pixelation, but the voices were unmistakable, complete with subtitles.

Everything before the officers were healed was shown from the vantage point of the two cameras. The complicity of the station’s producer, the mentions of Thadeus, everything. The anchors, having been handling the other news all day, were stunned by this new video. Penny assured them that the other police officers would validate the claim. “What’s more, additional evidence has been uncovered linking several people to the events in the Branton area over the last several weeks, possibly including today’s attack. This evidence has been turned over to several law enforcement agencies who are conducting a full investigation.”

The camera switched to the anchors, and the male anchor said, “This news station has just issued a statement that it was unaware of any of the alleged activities of Liam Dross, and is prepared to fully cooperate with law enforcement in this investigation.”

Jack issued a war-whoop. “Hah! Thadeus is going to find himself spending eternity behind bars after this!”

Debbie shook her head. “He won’t, you know.”

Sighing, Jack said, “Okay, maybe not. But he’s a wanted man from here on out, right? Man, I can’t believe they showed that.”

While he hadn’t noticed it before, it felt like a great weight lifted from Sean’s shoulders. Learning about Hattie’s death and Sophronia’s harvesting had left him crushed. While this didn’t make everything better, this was a badly-needed victory. “Maybe they knew that if they tried to sit on it or quietly turn it in to the authorities, it would disappear, or at best implicate their station once he was arrested.”

Debbie closed her eyes, and said. “This is everything I was hoping for when I left Blood Creek and started investigating the Man in the White Suit. It just took almost fifty years. He can’t hide from this, can he? I mean, he’ll be forced to fake his death again, but the Coven is going to be in deep trouble.”

“I don’t know,” Sean said. “But it certainly puts him and the Coven in a bind, doesn’t it? We did it. Well, mostly Jenny did it. Jenny, congratulations!” He turned around, but didn’t see her.

Debbie said, “She’s still out with Blake.”

“Oh,” Jack said. He checked his watch. “When do y’all reckon they left?”

Sean checked the window. It was dark now. It had been nearly sunset when they left. “A half-hour, maybe?”

“More like an hour,” Debbie said. “More than an hour. How far was his cousin?”

Sean shook his head. “I don’t know. It couldn’t have been that far. Blake could have driven to Pennsylvania and back by now.”

“Maybe the police picked them up?”

Jack looked at the TV and said, “Why? Jenny ain’t wanted, is she? Do you think that they’d be after her after what happened today?” He glowered. “If the Coven caught her… Oh, man.”

Sean considered this, feeling the weight and anxiety return. What had Blake said, exactly? Where was he going to pick up Phillip? He searched around the room for any clue to where Blake’s cousin would be. He spotted his pens and old phone sitting on the counter, without the metal container. The stationary was open and had been used.

Had she mailed something? That wouldn’t take much time. He thought about the message. The crazy cat lady’s cousin’s friend’s house? What the hell did that mean? Did Jenny and Jessabelle have a plan to meet up?

He opened drawers, searching for a pencil. No one really used pencils anymore, but he vaguely remembered seeing one always rolling around in a ”supply drawer” in the kitchen. It was where he and Blake constantly stashed stuff too useful to throw away, but unlikely to be needed anytime soon. An old pencil was still there. It wasn’t sharp, but it didn’t need to be.

He rubbed the pencil lead sideways over the top remaining page of the paper stack from the box. Sure enough, faint words appeared. Just like the movies. He couldn’t read them all, but the meaning was clear enough.

Debbie stood and came behind him. Jack stood on the other side of his shoulder, only he seemed preoccupied by the message on the screen.

“What is this?” Debbie asked, pointing to the lead-darkened piece of paper.

“I think Jenny wrote a warning to the Wardens about Thadeus.”

Debbie looked at him. “That’s stupid. There’s no way to get it to them, except… Oh, crap.”

Sean nodded. “The one-way Crossroads, again. She wrote the note—and probably put it inside the box—because she knows it is practically suicide to go in. The Wardens have it guarded and set with explosives. I guess it’s possible someone there might recognize her, but otherwise, they will shoot first, ask questions later.”

“Callan,” Jack said.

Sean turned. Jack pointed at the computer screen. “Jenny’s friend. The one with the burn scars. Same name as the place with the Crossroads.”

Sean felt like kicking himself. “Derp! Of course! I thought…never mind. So when Jessabelle mentions ‘Uncle H.’, she’s referring to…”

Debbie said, “Hothlurian would be my guess. That’s what they all call him over there. But nobody listening in on this side, except Thadeus himself, would recognize it.”

Sean nodded. “So Jessabelle is also going to Callan. Thadeus, too, maybe.”

Jack grunted. “Huh. Well, if everyone else is going to Callan, what are we doing here?”

* * *

It took longer than expected to find the little dirt access road leading to Callan. The SUV bumped and jostled as they followed a pair of tire tracks up the hill, around several curves for a surprisingly long distance. They came to a stop at a car parked in front of a chain link fence. Their headlights shining through the windows of the other car showed no one inside.

“That’s Blake’s car,” Sean said.

“You don’t think he’d be such an idiot as to follow her into the Crossroads, do you?” Jack asked.

“Probably not, but you never know with him. And was his cousin with him? I don’t know anything about him.”

“I don’t like this place,” Debbie said. “Maybe it’s repressed memories or something, but this is really freaking me out.”

“They could be in trouble,” Jack said.

“We might be in trouble,” Debbie countered.

Sean looked around, feeling very exposed. He put the car in reverse and looked over his shoulder. There was very little room turn around on the narrow road without hitting a steep incline or a tree. Getting out of here was going to be a challenge. “I want to turn the car around so we can get out of here in a hurry.”

He was already backing up as Jack said, “There’s no time. Let me out first, then you find a place to…” He stopped as popping noises sounded. Sean was so focused on how to maneuver the car that the sounds didn’t register on him.

“Get down!” Jack yelled. “Those are gunshots!”

Sean stopped the car to look ahead and see what was going on. Debbie screamed “Don’t stop!” as he saw the explosion of a muzzle flash, accompanied by an almost instant shattering of windshield glass around a bullet hole.

“Drive! Drive!” Jack yelled. Sean turned around, sinking lower in the seat, nearly flooring the accelerator. The trail seemed ten times longer going backward than forward, and the crazed glass of the rear window where the bullet had exited made it even harder to see.

The first turn put trees and a slope between them and the other car, and he no longer heard the crack of gunfire. After two more turns down the twisty road, he let off the gas just a little, but it was too late. The car hit an uphill slope, and Sean over-corrected. The rear wheels went off the left side of the road, down a few inches of slope, and the car came to a rough stop against a tree. Sean threw the transmission into drive and hit the accelerator. The vehicle moved an inch away from the tree before the rear wheels spun uselessly.

Sean swore and tried reversing again, turning the steering wheel, and going forward again. Nothing. They were stuck.

“We have to bail!” Jack said. “Sean, come on. Grab the keys and let’s go.”

Sean turned off the ignition and took the key with him. They exited the car, and Sean noted that it was lodged in such a way that it blocked the road diagonally. Nobody was going around them except on a dirt bike or on foot. Jack led the way, and Sean followed Debbie as they stumbled their way down the darkened road. The forest shrouded the light from the moonrise. At the very least, the bad guys should have a tough time seeing them, too.

They hadn’t gone far when illumination appeared some distance below them, in the form of three sets of headlights. Sean prayed that they were closer to the main road than he thought, and those were just three cars passing the dirt access road. After a few seconds, as the headlights bobbed and bounced along the turns through the trees and grew ever closer, the hope proved futile.

Wordlessly, the three scrambled down the slope away from the road and hid behind a clump of trees, watching the lights of the cars pass them. They came to a stop after several dozen yards. In spite of all the vegetation, the sound of the car doors opening and closing echoed along the ravine.

So did the sound of Thadeus’s voice as he yelled, “What the hell is this? What idiot parked their car here?”

“What did she do to us?” Blake grunted through the pain, clenching his eyes closed as another wave rippled through him. “Did she poison us?”

Phillip’s only response was a moan. He might have been in less immediate danger than Blake, but was in no less pain. In Jenny’s Sight, she could see both young men struggling as an inky blackness threatened to consume their forms. It wasn’t magic, exactly, but it had been caused by magic, and there were occasional sparks of blue-white to demonstrate that magic helped feed the destruction.

Blake tried to say something else, made a choking noise, and then vomited. Some of it splashed his jeans and foot on the way to the floor. Jenny gagged at the smell. More importantly, so did the guards.

“Get the supplies and clean this up, Giovanni,” one of the guards said, covering his nose with his arm.

“Why me? I’m not cleaning that up! It’s probably diseased!”

The third guard chimed in. “Just do it, Giovanni. If he yaks again, it’ll be my turn.”

The guard they called Giovanni made a disgusted noise, and said, “Okay. You guys stay here with the stink, then. It might take me a bit to find the cleaning supplies.” With that, he went up the stairs.

The other guards moved away and turned their heads, trying to find a spot to breathe that didn’t overwhelm them with the stench.

“Oh, man, I think I’m next,” Phillip groaned.

The third guard turned to the first and said, “If Giovanni isn’t back before the other guy goes, then he’ll have to clean up both messes.”

“Roger,” the first guard said. “Fair.”

It wasn’t a perfect distraction, but a better one was unlikely to come along. Jenny tried to make the most of it. She usually used song, herbs or distilled ‘healing juice’, and direct contact to heal. And she wasn’t fighting someone else’s spell to do so. All of the elements worked against her. But, unlike most times, she could see much more clearly now through the Sight.

Singing was out of the question, as that would alert the Coven guards about what she was doing. They were not ignorant of witchcraft. She couldn’t move closer to Blake. But she could see the magic or energy or whatever it was that came from witchcraft.

She began reciting the song in her mind, her lips making the motions without allowing sound to escape. Tendrils of blue-white energy stretched away from her, but not enough to make the connection. She repeated the spell over and over again, and watched as the magical threads stretched across the few feet of distance between their chairs, finally connecting with Blake.

Blake shot bolt upright. She continued the spell, pouring everything she could muster into him. Blake howled in pain, but she ignored him as she watched the patches of blackness around him shrink, recede, and fade entirely. The little sparks from Kelly’s spell ceased to flash around him.

Unfortunately, the spell couldn’t clean up the mess he’d made. Perhaps that was a good thing. The guards ignored him beyond hunching their shoulders, bracing themselves against more cries of pain. It was good to know they were human, at least.

Sweat dripped down over Jenny’s broken eyes, making her squint. It was still strange that this didn’t have any effect on her vision. Blake looked at her, cleansed of darkness, and opened his mouth to ask what she immediately considered a stupid question. She glared at him with as much expression as she could force out of her dead eyes, and shook her head tightly.

Blake took the hint and leaned forward again, gazing intently at the floor. Jenny moved her concentration to Phillip, repeating the process. For some reason, whether it was the more encompassing cloud of gray around him, or the greater distance, it took even more out of her. She slumped, he slumped, and everyone took a hard-earned breather as Giovanni returned with a bucket, mop, and cleansers.

As Giovanni mopped up the mess at Blake’s feet, the cleanser smell overwhelmed the odor of sick. When he finished, he paused and peered at Blake. Perhaps his suspicions had been aroused because Blake was no longer groaning in pain? Blake glanced back with lidded eyes, and made a low grunting sound from the back of his throat. It sounded fake to Jenny, but it was enough to make Giovanni reel out of the way and take the cleaning equipment with him back up the stairs.

When the two guards looked away, Blake mouthed the words, “What happened?”

“Magic,” Jenny mouthed back.

“What?” Blake looked utterly confused. She couldn’t blame him. A few months ago, she would have been the same way. That, or completely dismissive. The guards cast glances at them, and she lowered her head.

During their battle near the Crossroads, Taliel had used magic to give herself superhuman strength. Jenny imitated Taliel’s trick. She repeated the words from the pop song, at least as far as she remembered them. With the Sight working as it now did, she could actually see thin cords of blue-white light appearing and encircling her. It was working this time! As one guard peeked up the stairs and the other glanced at his watch, she flexed her muscles and pulled at the bonds around her hands.

They held fast, but the pain made her gasp before she bit her lip to stop herself. The guards turned to look at her, and the second one came close to check on her bonds. “Careful, there, miss. You don’t want to hurt yourself. You heard Kelly—just tell her what she wants to know, and you three will be safe.”

“No, we won’t. For sure, I’m dead.”

“Of course not. We don’t work that way.”

“Yes, you do. A lot. I’m sorry if you actually believe that.”

The other guard said, “Hey, Harris, no talking to the prisoners!”

The guard—Harris—quickly turned away from her and stood off in one corner.

“They aren’t really going to kill us, are they?” Phillip asked. While her Sight verified that he was no longer sick from the curse, he looked no less glum.

“Hopefully you and Blake will be okay. Eventually. But these people killed my parents over a sixteen-year-old grudge.”

“Shut up, or you will wish we killed you!” the first guard barked at them.

Jenny tried to pull at her bonds again with more caution. They hadn’t weakened. If she’d grown any stronger, it wasn’t enough. She was out of ideas. At least the boys were no longer in immediate danger or pain. She’d done what she could for them.

She wasn’t willing to admit defeat just yet. She just needed another opportunity.

Giovanni’s voice came down the stairs. “Hey, something’s going on. Somebody’s here.”

The first guard, nearest the stairs, called back, “Is it Thadeus?”

“I don’t think so. Kelly just gathered a squad to investigate.”

“What the hell? I thought this place was secret! That’s the second time tonight!”

Jenny exchanged glances with Blake and Phillip. Harris watched them closely. Clearly, her guess was right. Thadeus was coming, and she was running out of time to warn the Wardens. It might be too late already, in which case there was only one thing she could do to prevent him from returning to Around the Bend and destroying the people she cared about there.

The only way to prevent that would be to seal the Crossroads here. It might not stop Thadeus, but it would slow him and force him to take the Blood Creek Crossroads. Of course, there was no way to seal the Crossroads from the outside. And she had no witch-bottle. There was no guarantee of success, and a terrible certainty of death.

It was one thing to go against the odds and risk death. She’d done that many times this year. But pushing forward with the certainty of death? That gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

However, the consequences of doing nothing were even worse.

She pulled at her bonds one more time, motivated by desperation. They still held, biting painfully into her wrists. Harris noticed the strain, and put his hand on the pistol at his belt. “Hey! Cut that out, miss!”

Jenny forced herself to relax. Desperation born of both fear and hope drove her to near-panic, and she forced it back. There was a slim chance, but she had to be smart. She couldn’t run off oblivious like she had on the battlefield at Dane’s Point. She imagined what Lisbet Crane would do. She honestly had no idea, lacking Lisbet’s training and experience, but she knew Lisbet would be cold, calculating, and decisive.

A distant gunshot rang out, followed by another. The guard at the foot of the stairs said to Harris, “Stay here and watch them like a hawk! I’m going to find out what’s going on.” He ran to the top of the stairs, and closed the door.

“Do you think it’s the police?” Blake asked.

Harris stepped closer. “Hey, no talking, alright?”

Jenny looked up at the guard. “Harris?”

“Yeah, what?” He looked at her. She knew her eyes were freaky to look at, and she didn’t know if they were actually looking at him or not. Her Sight tended to look where she wanted to no matter what her eyes did. She extended the tiny cords of magic in the air between herself and Harris, wrapping around them both. She muttered the words softly, like a lullaby:

Love and respect, desire and fear

Heed you now the words you hear!

Harris reached for his handgun, but his hand just rested on the grip. “Harris, we’re on the same team.”

He nodded. “I guess we are.”

“Cut me loose. Quickly.”

“You bet.”

She felt terrible doing this. She felt all the more terrible because she knew it was getting easier—both easier to force her will on others, and easier on her conscience to do so. It disgusted her, as much as she knew it was for the ”greater good.” How many evil, despicable people committed heinous acts for what they believed was ”the greater good”? Still, like Grandma Annie tried to tell her, magic was the tool. This was how she used it. As had been proven at the clubhouse earlier today, this wasn’t mind control. Those who couldn’t be persuaded were immune.

She’d take that justification with her to the grave.

Harris pulled out a combat knife from his belt and cut the zip ties around her wrists and ankles. She asked him to free the boys, and he did so with a smile.

“Hey, Harris?” she said.

“Yes, miss?”

“Look, if things go badly for me—you tell them that I made you do this, okay? It wasn’t your fault. You tell them that.”

“If you say so.”

Of course he would, anyway. She was just trying to salve her own wounded conscience. “Stay here and wait until this is all over, okay?”

“You bet.”

As she reached the foot of the stairs, Blake stepped in front of her. “Hey!” she whispered. “Out of my way!”

He turned to look at her. “But there’s the guy at the top of…” he started to say.

“I know. I’ve got this,” she said. She wanted to cast a spell to protect the two boys, but they had to get out of here fast before the distraction was over.

He looked like he was starting to protest as she stepped in front of him and onto the stairs, but he didn’t stop her. Maybe he’d seen enough strangeness tonight to know better.

Before she was halfway up the stairs, the door opened. The first guard, armed with his rifle, was two steps down before it registered what he was seeing. He raised his rifle just as Jenny lunged for it. She ripped it away from his grasp, and it flew out of both of their hands and over the handrail, striking the floor with a clack of polymer and metal against bare concrete. He stood for the space of an eyeblink, both of them stunned by what had just happened. Then he balled a fist and struck at her.

She’d been moderately proficient student of jiu jitsu before she’d ever believed in witchcraft. While it had been a few months since she’d been in regular practice, the moves kicked in. Jenny turned his attack into a throw, over the railing and a surprising distance. He landed with a sickening crack and thud, his right arm bent behind him at a strange angle. He didn’t get up immediately, and his eyes swam aimlessly without focus.

“Harris, do you know first aid?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

The guard nodded. “Some.”

“Help him. But make sure he doesn’t follow us, either. Please.”

He nodded in acknowledgment, and said, “You bet.”

“Woah! Are you, like, super-powered or something?” Blake asked.

“Shhh!” Jenny said, putting her finger over her lips. It amazed her as well, and freaked her out a little. Apparently, her spell had worked. It hadn’t been enough to break the bonds, and since she was initiating the effort, the shield hadn’t protected her from inflicting pain on herself. However, she was strong enough to toss a guy—with the advantage of leverage and technique—as if she had been twice her size and pure muscle mass.

On top of that, in spite of the rather significant witchcraft she’d been using today, she hadn’t hit her breaking point yet. It felt like she’d been guiding the magic visually with her Sight, instead of forcing it, and perhaps that accounted for things. However, even with her experience gained over the last several weeks, the point of exhaustion often crept up on her by surprise.

Down a short hall, three guards, including Giovanni, squatted near the windows and at the open door of the living room. Their rifles were ready, and they stared intently in the darkness. Two of them had very large, electrical scopes on their rifles that emitted a faint green light over their faces as they stared into them.

Phillip closed the door behind them, and they crept away in the other direction. Behind them, one of the guards said, “Hey, I’m seeing more headlights. Several cars. Do you think that’s Thadeus, come early?”

If the other guard replied, they didn’t hear it. The kitchen and dining room were on the other side of the house. Jenny quietly opened the sliding glass door, and they slipped out into the night. After closing the door behind them, they moved away several yards behind a clump of trees.

“What now?” Phillip asked.

“Let me help you both,” Jenny asked, and she proceeded to use the protection song on the both of them. Under the circumstances, they didn’t question it. When she was done, she asked, “Now, can either of you see a graveyard from here?” Again, her Sight was not providing her exceptional range unless she concentrated on it—which felt like searching the horizon through a soda straw.

Blake pointed in one direction. “You know, that could be it. Yeah, that looks like it. Are we going there next?”

Jenny shook her head. “No. You guys are going in the opposite direction. You need to stay hidden and get out of here as quickly as possible. Forget about your car.”

“What about you?”

“Like I told you before, I’ve got this.”

Blake snorted. “Yeah. I believe you this time. Hey, whatever you are going to do, good luck. Teach these nutjobs a lesson.”

She smiled. She couldn’t tell if they could read her expression in the darkness or not. She could only tell it was dark, but otherwise she could see clearly. “If I’m right, I’m going to do a lot more than that.”

Nobody noticed the cat approach them until it transformed into Jessabelle, crouched near Jack. “Hey, y’all,” she whispered. “Anybody got any food?”

Sean was still fighting off his surge of adrenaline when Jack responded, “Hi there, Jessabelle. We got your message. Sorry, we didn’t bring any food with us.”

Jessabelle groaned. “I didn’t expect to change so much today.”

Sean nodded at her and said, “Thadeus is here.”

“Yeah, that’s why I came.” Jessabelle sank down beside them. “Y’all figured out how we stop him yet?”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. I might could resist his witchcraft, but there are people up there with guns. Hopefully our amulets will hold up a little while longer. We think they kidnapped Jenny and some others.”

“Jenny’s here? Oh! I have something for her. In case I can’t change to give it to her.” She took off a necklace. “Sean, you remember that? My birthday?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah. Jenny was drawing…” A voice interrupted him, in a strange language. “What?”

“Hattie gave it to me for my birthday,” Jessabelle said, thinking he’d addressed her.

The voice came again, with a thick accent. “That will work! Take it!”

Sean looked around. The voice seemed to emerge from right over his shoulder. It muttered, “Idoot.”

“Leendert?”

“Ja, Leendert. Take the thing. We can use it, maybe.”

“Leendert? Where have you been?”

“Here. Waiting. Resting. Take the thing!”

Sean extended his hand. Jessabelle cocked her head to the side and looked at him skeptically, but handed him the amulet. It didn’t seem to glow with any kind of magic or spirit. It was just a simple, albeit old, pendant. But Leendert laughed maniacally. “Now put it on!”

Sean struggled to put it on. Debbie helped him, and asked, “Leendert. That’s the old priest from the church you told me about.”

“Yes.”

“So he ain’t crazy,” Jack said.

Sean shrugged. “I make no promises.”

Jessabelle pointed somewhere past the fence. “Y’all, I think Thadeus is already here now. We’ve got to warn the Wardens.”

“They’ll kill us as soon as we arrive. They aren’t taking chances.”

“Can they kill Thadeus? Or stop him, I mean?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Jack said, “Then it probably ain’t going to make any difference if we warn them or not. We need to find Jenny. After that, we do what we can.”

“And if we find Thadeus instead?” Sean asked.

“Then we do what we have to do, for as long as we can.”

They made their way parallel to the dirt road, with Jessabelle taking the lead. “Graveyard’s this way,” she said, pointing. “House is up yonder.”

“There’s a chain link fence,” Sean said.

“There wasn’t last time I was here.” She dropped down suddenly. Everyone else followed suit. Up ahead, someone—more than one person—approached. Sean was in a terrible hiding place, certain the approaching figures would see him. He tried his best to be still. If he didn’t make a sound, maybe they wouldn’t notice him…

“Oh, shit!” One of the people said, spotting them. The voice was annoyingly familiar.

“Blake?” Sean called, as loudly as he dared.

“Sean! Dude! How did you find us?”

Jessabelle hissed. “Keep your voices down!”

“Sorry!” Blake whispered as he came close, another young man—presumably his cousin—following.

“Is Jenny with you?” Sean asked.

Blake shook his head. “She is awesome. Like super-powered ninja warrior. We got captured and poisoned. She cured the poison with her mind, totally mind-controlled one guard, and karate-threw another one over the stairs. You should have seen it! Do you know if she’s dating anyone?”

Sean tried to make sense of the whirlwind of data Blake had just subjected them to. For a moment, he latched onto the fact that Blake was interested in dating her in spite of her physical condition. Then again, she’d healed remarkably well, except for her eyes. This was just a side of Blake he hadn’t expected. He shook his head and focused on the important things. “So she escaped.”

“Yeah. She sent us this way. She’s heading for some graveyard.”

“Crap,” Jack muttered. “She’s still trying to get the warning to the Wardens, too.”

Debbie nodded. “Rose women. It runs in the family, I guess.”

“We need to stop her,” Jack said.

Sean asked, “Are you sure? Maybe we should help her.”

“Help her get killed?”

“Help her succeed.”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“But you know how to stop her?”

Jack shrugged, and offered a quick grin. “I guess not. Either way, we gotta run. Blake, you and your cousin keep heading that direction a ways. You’ll come to a paved road. Head left and you’ll be heading toward Morgantown. You might be able to catch a ride.”

“Hang on. You guys need help?”

His cousin looked at him. “Are you serious? We just barely got out of there alive, man!”

“Your cousin is right,” Sean said. “Look, if you two were poisoned, you need to get to a hospital as soon as possible and make sure you are okay. And whatever you do, don’t tell anyone Jenny’s secret, okay? You are two of the only people in the world who know about her capabilities, and she’s going to depend on you to keep it that way.”

Phillip nodded quickly. Blake hesitated. “But is she going to be okay?”

Sean tried to show far more confidence than he felt. “Come on, you saw her in action, right?”

“Come on, man,” Phillip said. “We need to leave.”

Blake nodded to his cousin, and looked back at Sean. “Okay. Hey, Sean, tell Jenny I asked about her, okay.”

Sean grinned. “You bet.”

Satisfied, Blake followed his cousin back through the woods toward the road.

Once they were out of range, Jessabelle said, “We need to get going before Thadeus beats us to the Crossroads.”

* * *

The chain-link fence only extended a few hundred feet in either direction from the road, existing primarily as an impediment to vehicle traffic or casual exploration. They crept around the fence and along the treeline until they came within a hundred yards of the graveyard. The empty field between them and the graveyard offered no places to hide.

Jessabelle pointed to the lone crypt on the property. “The Crossroads is in there,” she said. She looked at Debbie. “That was marked as your grave, by the way.”

“How considerate,” Debbie deadpanned.

Voices rose from the other side of the graveyard. Sean couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the voice of the Man in the White Suit was unmistakable. “They’re here already,” Sean said. “Thadeus is going to go through the Crossroads any minute.”

Jack shook his head. “He’s going to have to go through me first.” Without another word, he stepped out from the tree line into the clearing.

Jessabelle sighed. In the blink of an eye, she transformed into a panther and leaped from concealment to join Jack.

“You should stay here,” Sean said to Debbie.

“The hell with that!” Debbie said. “I owe him some payback. We’re still in this together.” She took his hand, and they followed Jack.

As they approached the crypt, the voices became clear. Thadeus finished a list of instructions. “Don’t let the squad come through for at least one hour, just to be sure. We should have full control of the other side by then. Have them bring as many guns and as much ammunition as they can carry. Oh, and extra batteries. Those would be useful. After that, keeping this site secure will be your job. Don’t screw it up.”

“What about the intruders?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Kill them all. Y’all can dump the bodies right here. Most of the graves are empty, anyhow.”

“Even the Morgan girl?”

“Yes, her too. We’re done with all that.”

“Understood. We’ve got everyone out looking for them right now.”

“Recall them. There’s no need.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because the ones you are looking for are all here, Kelly.” He was now close enough to be seen, strolling casually through the rows of headstones. A woman walked at his side, and two men with rifles followed them. “They’ve come to stop me.”

Jack strode forward. “Hey there, Thadeus. Nice to meet you again.”

Thadeus shook his head. “Thanks for making this easy for me, Jack Parsons of Blood Creek. Oh, sorry, Maple Bend. I sometimes forget it has a new name. Took me years to get over that Dutch name. Anyway, goodbye!” He made a contemptuous wave of his hand. Jack stumbled back a step, then hunched down, facing the Man in the White Suit.

Thadeus’s eyes widened. “Well, them witches protected you better than I expected of ‘em. Okay, boys. Shoot him.”

The two men with the rifles took aim. One fell instantly, gun firing into the sky, beneath a dark feline shape. He screamed as it tore at his arm.

The other guard fired several shots at Jack. While his Sight wasn’t as powerful as Jenny’s, the blue white flash around Jack was plainly visible to Sean as it deflected every shot from the rifle. As it wavered, Jenny’s voice rose from behind a tombstone.

“Angels surround him, angels protect him, angels enfold him, angels direct him. Protect him asleep, protect him awake, keep evil afar, and never forsake!”

Sean wasn’t sure what amazed him more—that Jenny had somehow been hidden in the graveyard the whole time, or that the magical light from her spell was brighter than anything he’d seen before. The flashes around Jack were brilliant flickers that completely resisted the last four shots before the rifle ran dry. The guard took a step back, hit a switch, and dropped the magazine out of his rifle while he reached into his vest for another one.

Thadeus shook his head and held his arms heavenward. “Seriously, is this what I pay y’all for? I would have been better off hiring the Keystone Cops.” He looked in Jenny’s direction. “Hi there, sweet thing! I recognize your mama’s protection song. I wonder if yours is anywhere as good as hers.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand, and Jenny flew backwards, smashing through a tombstone with an explosion of brilliant blue-white light. She didn’t get back up.

“I guess not,” Thadeus said. He put one hand in his pocket, and walked casually up to Jack. Jack charged ahead with a knife that gleamed even in the dim moonlight. Thadeus backhanded Jack with so much force that Jack flew over the headstone next to him, spilling onto the ground on the other side.

Thadeus wasn’t looking in Sean’s direction. Sean readied himself, hoping to catch Thadeus from his blind side. It wouldn’t do much, but it would be something.

“Wait!” Leendert said. “Wait until he goes into the Crossroads.”

“Can we stop him there?” Sean asked.

“Maybe, but we have no chance to stop him this moment.”

The woman drew her revolver and took aim at Jessabelle. Jessabelle took note and leaped away from her victim. The man moaned on the ground. “My arm! My arm!”

“Don’t be such a baby. We’ll fix your arm later. Just don’t die on us now.” She turned to the other guard. “We need to work as a team. Got it? Now I don’t know if that cat has shielding…”

Sean rushed to where Jenny had fallen, but she was missing. By magic or by stealth, or perhaps both, she’d escaped. At least she’d been able to get up and move under her own steam. He glanced toward the crypt. He might not know where she was, but he knew where she would be. Ducking behind another headstone, he surveyed the moonlit graveyard.

The Man in the White Suit continued to stride confidently among the headstones, ignoring the chaos around him. He was still some distance away, but his destination was obvious.

Jessabelle pounced at the other rifleman. He wasn’t ready, but the woman was. She shot Jessabelle with a single round. The panther made a terrible shriek, sounding very much like Jessabelle—as a girl—screaming in pain. Sean turned to help.

“No!” Leendert called. “You must follow the enemy! It is our only chance!”

“Into the Crossroads?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll die.”

“You will. Probably. But maybe not. Leendert is already dead.”

“Then I’ll die on the other side. This plan sucks, Leendert.”

“It is the only plan that maybe not everybody dies.”

Sean hesitated, conflicted.

Debbie leaped to Jessabelle’s rescue. She and the witch wrestled. In the end, the woman got the better of Debbie, and threw her to the ground. She laughed, and pointed the revolver at Debbie. In her left hand, she held something dangling from a string.

Debbie’s amulet.

“Hah!” the woman said. “I guess this one wasn’t booby-trapped after all!” She raised the revolver. Sean rushed forward, but he was too far to help.

A figure rushed the witch as she took aim, emerging out of the darkness with a flash of reflected light that arced through the air. Part of her arm seemed to simply drop away in the blur of motion. She looked down at her forearm laying in the dirt next to the revolver, and then at the stump past her elbow where blood sprayed, and screamed. She dropped the amulet and clenched the stump of her arm with her free hand. She stumbled forward and fell to her knees.

Jack’s magical knife gleamed unstained in the moonlight in his hand as he stood over her, poised for another strike. She gasped the words of a spell, and the blood quit flowing from her arm. Jack held his pose like a statue, staring intently at the witch, as if daring her to take any further action.

Debbie stood, retrieved her amulet, and looked at Sean. “We’ve got this,” she said. “Go help Jenny!”

“Debbie, I love you,” Sean said. He turned in time to see Thadeus step calmly into the crypt. Jenny appeared suddenly, as if emerging from shadows cast by unseen objects, racing into the crypt only a moment behind Thadeus. Sean charged ahead. How much time did Jenny say it took to traverse the Crossroads? Thirty seconds?

It felt like hours of running in slow motion. Leendert shouted at him, “You must listen to my voice! Let me guide you!” Finally, after far too many seconds had passed, Sean plunged into the deeper darkness of the crypt, hoping he’d find the Crossroads instead of a stone wall on the far end.

It was too late to warn the Wardens on the other side. They would kill her the moment she appeared, anyway. That was okay, so long as she took Thadeus down with her.

Jenny had thirty seconds, tops, to seal the Crossroads. It wasn’t permanent, but hopefully it would block Thadeus long enough for him to die. The Crossroads would reclaim its own. The threads that made up the construct of Thadeus would be unraveled, restored to their previous functions, and he would cease to exist as an entity. He’d return to the dust of the Crossroads. She’d probably be long dead before that, but maybe her ghost could enjoy the sight.

The trick was that she’d obviously never sealed a portal before from inside the Crossroads, and she’d never done it without a witch-bottle, and she’d never done it with an actual devil with incredible magical powers opposing her. Complications. Her Sight gave her a tremendous advantage to make up for those problems. Besides that, there was no way, in Hell or on Earth or any of the other worlds, that she was going to go back to see her mom and dad and Hattie again and admit that she’d failed her last stand against their murderer.

She was only inches behind him as she dove through. As before, she sidestepped the river-like torrent that pulled her inexorably to the other side. As she did, her ears were filled with screaming. It was not her own. The souls trapped here cried out in the presence of their enemy.

Jenny went through the motions of the sealing spell, aiming at the flow of energy. She channeled cables of magic into the current, slowing the stream almost immediately. As it only flowed one direction, she only needed to stop it at one source.

Thadeus, sensing the change to the river’s flow, turned. “No! Amy… Jenny, no! Don’t make me kill you!”

Her skin was already burning. Again. This time it wouldn’t heal. She’d be one of the spirits trapped here for eternity, or at least part of her would, but it would be a satisfying way to end things. She grinned savagely back at Thadeus. There was nothing he could threaten her with anymore.

An invisible hand grabbed her. She felt it constricting, twisting, destroying her. Her Sight had no distance limitations here. Thadeus drifted away from her, his grip weakening with the distance, but each moment took him closer to the other side of the Crossroads even in the retarded flow of energy. He’d make it, barely. She wouldn’t.

Just as in the dream, tendrils of energy ripped at Thadeus. Pieces of him tore away. Sometimes, as they faded, Jenny swore she saw a face. It might have been the pain and the crushing grip on her throat causing her to see things.

“Don’t give up, child,” Hattie’s voice whispered in her ear. At least, it sounded like Hattie. Perhaps it was a delusion, or it was one of the other souls trapped in this place. It didn’t matter. Jenny fought through the pain with renewed fervor. Even if she couldn’t completely seal the gate, if she slowed the flow down enough, Thadeus would be badly weakened by the time he got to the other side. Maybe weakened enough to capture. Or kill. She would not give up.

Arms encircled her, and the terrible heat abated. The grip on her throat vanished.

Sean was there.

So was a stranger with a beard and old-fashioned tunic. He grinned eagerly at her. “Ja! Ja! There is still time yet! He has not gone through, yet. Thank you, child! With you, we can do this. Do not fear the Crossroads. The amulet on Sean’s neck will protect you both long enough to finish. Let me show you correct way!”

Was this the man who had destroyed the original Crossroads, at the site of the church? Jenny let the ribbons of magic, the witchcraft, divert into the old priest.

Everything changed. The river of energy increased far wider than it had been, sweeping the three of them up in it. “No!” Jenny cried.

“Yes!” the old priest cried, his face a mix of concentration and glee. “Work with me! We stop him now! A better way!”

Jenny didn’t see a better choice. She couldn’t fight much longer, and the ghost of the Dutchman had more than undone everything she had attempted. She gave in to trust. The priest had his own revenge to take on Thadeus. She channeled the ribbons of energy she had previously restrained, and allowed them to merge with the stream the ghost had unleashed.

They rushed past Thadeus. Rather than being pushed along by the current, the energy tore through him, stripping him away in layers.

The Man in the White Suit screamed, louder than all the tortured souls in the Crossroads combined. Wisps of energy—were they what was left of harvested ghosts?—exploded out from him, and were caught in the stream, leaving only the emaciated, blistering form of Thadeus behind, rushing past Jenny to the end of the river of color.

The stream came to a sudden end, and Leendert slowed. In the distance, the Man in the White Suit was no longer a man at all, but a skeletal corpse, still screaming as its remaining flesh dissolved in the river current.

“Leendert! Come on!” Sean called. Around his neck, the strange amulet with loops and curls resembling Celtic knotwork glowed red-hot, absorbing the forces that would otherwise have scorched them and stripped them into pieces just like Thadeus. Jenny now understood exactly what it was. Not a shield, exactly, but almost like a heat sink for the Crossroads for those stupid enough to fight the current.

Leendert shook his head. “I cannot. I have enough to finish this, but I must do so from here. It is one direction.”

“You’ll be trapped!” Sean cried.

“No! He is trapped. I am jailer. I shall enjoy eternity of revenge. Goodbye! I hope you do not die on the other side!” With a final laugh from Leendert, the current seemed to explode around them, and pieces of what once was Thadeus, Hothlurian, the Devil in White, the Man in the White Suit, exploded in all directions.

Then they were on the stone floor of a fortress, surrounded by metal boxes embedded in the walls and floor all around them. Jenny had seen them before, hidden on the battlefield outside of Dane’s Point. Dozens of explosive bombs, capable of wiping out a great deal of an invading army. Defenses powerful enough to stop the immortal daughter of Hothlurian and wipe out her rescuers even before the Wardens brought their traditional firepower to bear.

At least there wouldn’t be a chance to feel the pain.

Sean waited for the end to come, and kept waiting. Light filtered indirectly through holes in the ceiling, so he could see the metal boxes mounted along the walls, the signs of new construction, the metal bars blocking his path. He noted the angled murder-holes their defenders could shoot through or pour deadly substances into the chamber and at least part of the hall beyond. Houdini, or a pair of giants, would have a difficult time breaking free, and certainly not before getting killed a dozen times over. He could see no way to escape. It was every bit the deathtrap he had expected.

But nobody had yet hit the “on” switch. A clattering noise echoed dimly through the murder-holes. Someone loading equipment in position? A shadow passed through some of the lighting, an indication of movement. He considered saying something, but did he really want to hasten their death?

He looked at Jenny. She stared straight ahead, rigid, as anxious as he was. Her clothes were scorched, and she had new blisters on her barely-healed skin. Her lips mumbled the familiar words to her healing song. He hoped it would be enough. As for himself, Sean didn’t feel wounded, but he felt as though his lungs had been squeezed shut. Every nerve ached. Yet, they had destroyed the Man in the White Suit. It seemed ironic that he kept facing death from his allies whenever he assisted in taking out one of their enemies. It would be funny, maybe, if he wasn’t standing here waiting for the end to come.

Sean glanced at the wall behind them. “Leendert…?”

“He closed the Crossroads,” Jenny whispered. “From inside. This one no longer exists.”

“How? And why?”

She shushed him, leaning in close. “Someone’s coming.”

Two figures appeared in the hallway. They moved quickly and silently, dim streaks of light passing over their Warden uniforms. As they drew closer, the lights above illuminated them more clearly. The man, apparently in his mid-20s but probably older with the time adjustment of ‘Round the Bend, moved past the bars to somewhere along the side to unlock the mechanism holding the thick bars in place. The woman was older, hair pulled into a tight braid beneath her hat. Fresh blood stained the sleeve of her uniform as she offered a curtsy to Sean. “My Lord Hothlurian, I presume?”

Sean stifled his surprise, hoping none of it showed on his face in the darkness. Had Hothlurian’s forces taken the fort? Possible, but unlikely. They both wore Warden uniforms. They were traitors. The fresh blood indicated that they had just eliminated a loyal Warden. Fortunately, they didn’t recognize him or Jenny.

That, or this was a really surprising level of duplicity to get Hothlurian or his minions to spill their plans. Keeping his voice level, Sean said, “No, he is behind us. How are preparations?” If she wasn’t a traitor, he’d just signed their death warrants. If she was a traitor—well, they might still be dead in a few minutes. But for now, they were still alive, and he’d try to make the moments count.

“Captain Rhetomer sent most of the loyalists out to the other gate at the place they call ‘Blood Creek’. However, they still outnumber us by four to one. She raised her bloody sleeve and smirked. “Perhaps slightly less than that now.”

Sean thought quickly. “You didn’t kill a Lieutenant Hollingbrooke, did you?”

She raised an eyebrow, and her smirk faded. “No. You know of him? He was just assigned here a few days ago. Rhetomer put him in charge of the outer sentry. Do you need him dead?”

Sean breathed a sigh of relief. Hollingbrooke was here, and he wasn’t one of the traitors. “No. Let’s just say you may not be outnumbered as much as you think you are.”

The other Warden finished unlocking the mechanism, and turned a crank that pulled the heavy horizontal bars aside. The woman said, “We were not informed of his loyalties.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Of course not. One cell shouldn’t know anything about the others, in case one becomes compromised.” He hoped that sounded like a reasonable thing, borrowed from spy movies.

“Oh. Of course.” She glanced down at her sleeve, and said, “You don’t imagine we might have assassinated them by mistake?”

Sean repressed a shudder. Jenny, catching on, said confidently, “If so, just be glad they didn’t make the same mistake against you first, right?” The woman’s smile was nervous. Good. If she was unsure of herself, all the better.

The other Warden finished cranking the bars to the side, and strained to open the gate. Jenny walked confidently up to the gate and gave it a push. Her contribution seemed equal or greater than the Warden’s, and the gate swung fully open. Sean pretended he wasn’t surprised by her display of strength.

They walked into the hall, and the woman asked, “So when is Hothlurian arriving?”

“He and the others will be arriving within the hour, so there is no time to waste. We need to be ready to act as soon as they arrive.”

The woman cleared her throat. “Naturally, we can’t take direct action yet. Once Hothlurian arrives with his forces, we will be able to deal with the remaining loyalists.”

Jenny sneered, her expression even more contemptuous with her sightless orbs and reddened face. “Are you afraid of doing this yourself? You want Hothlurian to take care of your problems for you?”

The woman stiffened and frowned. “Nothing of the sort. It will simply be costly without additional support. As I said, we are greatly outnumbered.”

“Let us take care of that,” Sean said, grateful that Jenny so easily jumped in so he could formulate a plan. “I need you to do three things. First, get us two Warden uniforms that might fit, so we don’t get shot while we’re waiting around here. Secondly, I need you to bring Lieutenant Hollingbroke to me. Tell him…tell him to say nothing, to talk to no one, and come immediately to meet me. Tell him the spiritualist that he expected is here, by the name of…James Bond.”

“The spiritualist…Mr. Bond?”

“Exactly. Then, I need Captain Rhetomer and all who are loyal to Hothlurian to gather together for further instructions. We have little time, so it will have to be done quickly—and discretely. Make sure no one other than you or Hollingbroke come here, or the fight may begin before you are fully prepared.”

“We will be assembled in the Headquarters building.”

She curtsied again, and told the other Warden to find uniforms. When they both left, Jenny asked, “Do we really need uniforms?”

Sean shrugged. “I hope not. But as long as it keeps them scrambling until I get a chance to talk to Hollingbroke, it’s good.”

“How do you know this guy? And do you know you can trust him?”

“He was the acting head of the Citadel a few weeks ago, and I knew he was getting stationed here. Honestly, I don’t know who we can trust at this point, but we can hope.”

Three minutes later, Lieutenant Hollingbroke arrived, sword drawn. “Mr. Williams, I know you didn’t come from the outside, and I just passed two dead men in the hall. You have one minute to explain to me how and why you are here.”

“Good, because we don’t have much time before our enemies realize something is up. Hothlurian’s dead, but nobody else knows that yet. You’ve got a bunch of traitors meeting in a few minutes in the Headquarters building.”

Hollingbroke’s sword tip lowered. “What? Is this true?”

“Yes!” Jenny said, relief breaking out on her face as if she hadn’t dared believe it until this minute. “Sean, yes! He’s gone! It’s finally over!”

Hollingbroke said, “I know you are trusted by Commander Crane, Sean. But I still have trouble believing this.”

Sean nodded. “I understand. I can’t fully believe it either. As far as the traitors, I told them you are one of them. Find out for yourself, before you arrest the whole lot of them.”

“Arrest the Captain?”

“Yes. You’ll have plenty of evidence. We’ll help. As for the rest…” He looked at Jenny. “I think we won. And we lived.”

She collapsed against the wall and sank to the floor, but the relieved smile didn’t leave her face.

“Hey, are you going to be okay?”

She looked up at him with her eyelids closed, and nodded. “For now. Ask me again tomorrow.”

“Why tomorrow?”

“Because I didn’t think we would get one.”

In spite of the all the people in the throne room and the roaring fire in the great fireplace, it remained a little chilly. The wet, colder-than-usual October contributed, and the palace probably lacked effective insulation. Most people hadn’t noticed him yet. Jack wished there wasn’t such a crowd.

He wore his “Sunday Best,” a suit and a tie, now a little soggy from the rain that had leaked into his pack on the way here. He was still under-dressed for this crowd. He suddenly remembered that he was still wearing his new(ish) John Deere hat with his suit, and he grabbed the brim to take it off. Feeling how wet it was, and imagining what his hair might look like beneath it, he left it on.

An imposing figure appeared behind him, dressed in formal armor that had never been used in battle. “Do you remember how to do this, Jack?” Bachan asked.

“I ain’t sure I can remember my own name, sir,” Jack said.

Bachan chuckled. “Do not approach more than a pace away from the lower step of the dais. If you are out of the guard’s immediate reach at the bottom of the dais, you will be fine. Then bow, and keep your head lowered until she tells you to stand. Only speak when spoken to. Keep your hands at your sides or in front of you. Do not reach into your clothing for anything unless you receive explicit permission to do so. Answer questions directly and keep your answers concise. Don’t go rambling on.”

Jack snorted. “Y’all wouldn’t kill me for talking too much, would you?”

“I wouldn’t, no. But remember there are people here who would love to see you dead, and a number of others who taking their measure of you before making a decision.”

“A decision on whether to kill me or not?”

“A decision on whether they should trust you or not.”

“I ain’t going to lie, Bachan. And I can’t be anything other than myself.”

“Then I think you will do just fine.”

A man in some kind of weird, silky-and-lace uniform who stood by the doorway loudly announced, “Jack Parsons, Hero of the Kingdom.”

The crowd turned and parted in the middle, creating an aisle between him and the dais. All eyes were upon him. Suddenly, his tie felt far too tight, and his hat even more conspicuous. At a nudge from Bachan, Jack stepped forward, watching his feet to make sure he didn’t do a face-plant in front of everyone. Satisfied that he still remembered how to put one foot in front of the other, he looked up to see where he was going.

He saw her eyes. The incredible pale blue of a winter sky, the shade that belonged to no one else in two worlds. Above her eyes, atop immaculately braided brown hair, sat a delicate gold tiara. She was radiant in her formal gown of blue and white, which was at once modest and stately, yet showed off her form. He wanted to take all of her in, to just stand in place and stare, but those eyes held him.

Bachan cleared his throat, and the guard at the bottom of the dais—who Jack only just now recognized as Zeke—subtly raised his gloved hand to tell him to stop. Jack stumbled to a halt, still staring at her eyes.

“Bow…” Zeke whispered, so quietly that Jack almost didn’t hear it. Suddenly remembering where he was, Jack bowed deeply.

“Please stand, Hero,” Delcina said, her voice formal yet warm. As he did, she raised her arms to the people assembled. “My people, I again present to you Jack Parsons of Maple Bend, Hero of the Kingdom, and valiant defender of our land many times over. Jack, the Wardens have already informed us that our ancient enemy, Hothlurian the Undying, is no more, and that you were instrumental in this victory.”

Jack shrugged. “A lot of us fought against him, Your Highness. A lot that ain’t here anymore. I tried to do my share, and got lucky enough to live through it.”

“You speak truly, Hero. Yet you speak with undue modesty and humility.”

“I just tell it like it is, Your Highness.”

“Indeed. You do. Our people owe you and your companions a tremendous debt of gratitude, Jack. We have already bestowed upon you the greatest honor our kingdom can bestow upon a guest. Is there anything we can do for you?”

“You know, I’d like to stick around for a while, if y’all don’t mind. Now that the war is over and everything, I kinda like it here.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, Jack. You may consider yourself a guest whenever you are within our borders, and you may receive quartering on request at any military or state housing as due a retired officer with full honors. It is the least we can do. Thank you once again for your service to our kingdom.”

She stood, and everyone in the room aside from the guards dipped their head in a bow. Jack did the same, this time without a warning from Bachan. Delcina spoke. “Tonight we shall feast in honor of all those who served valiantly in defense of the Kingdom, doing their duty regardless of which side they found themselves charged with serving. Our ancient enemy and the pretender are no more, and it is time for us to heal as county. For Sanguine!”

“For Sanguine!” the crowd roared. With that, Delcina left the chamber through a side door, flanked by Zeke and another of the Royal Guard.

Bachan rumbled in his baritone voice, “Not what you expected, Jack?”

Jack shrugged. “I never know what to expect around y’all.”

“Good. Keep your eyes open. This is your chance to make friends and identify enemies.”

People swirled about him, shaking his hand, even bowing and curtsying to him. He honestly didn’t know what to expect. Everyone seemed really nice, but not everyone seemed sincere. Some simply glared at him with very real hate from across the room.

Without realizing it, Jack found himself near the back of the common room as he finished his greetings. Bachan appeared out of the crowd and ushered him out of the room. Jack glanced over his shoulder at the receding entrance to the throne room and asked, “What’s going on? Am I in danger?”

“Not immediately, no. But we have a schedule to keep.”

“I didn’t know I was on a schedule.”

“You may want to get used to the idea.”

Bachan guided him up the stairs, and then through the side door and down an exterior set of stairs to the garden. The rain had stopped, although the overcast clouds threatened another burst. The cool petrichor air mingled with the smell of earth and flowers, not quite ready to retreat for the coming winter. Jack’s mind wandered briefly to Rumela, sleeping in the rain, and standing guard for him and Delcina here in this garden. He imagined her standing guard for them, still.

It was Zeke, however, who met them with a salute at the gazebo. “All clear, sir,” he said.

“Very well. You and Tulley guard the entrance. Nobody is to even look out the window, understand?”

Zeke grinned and saluted. “Yes sir!”

The two bodyguards rushed back up the stairs. Bachan vanished somewhere out of eyesight in the garden. Jack stepped into the Gazebo.

She’d changed clothes. The tiara was gone, and she wore the silk auburn dress with black lace that she’d worn when he’d returned after facing Korak Lash, which she’d worn the first time he’d met her in the garden.

“Hey,” Jack said, grinning from ear to ear.

Delcina smiled back, stifling a giggle. “Hey.”

Jack leaned against the railing. “So they say you are officially the queen now. Sorry I missed your coronation thing.”

She shook her head. “It took all day. Two days, really. I would have hardly seen you, and I would have worried about you the entire time that you were absolutely bored with all the ceremony. I know I was.”

“I don’t know. Watching you take your rightful position, just like your papa would have wanted… I’m sure I would have enjoyed that just fine.”

“I’m sorry the others couldn’t join you,” she said.

Jack shrugged. “Debbie can’t ever show up here, because of what Taliel did. She and Sean are with his father, last I heard. They helped Jenny and Jessabelle deal with the Coven after it fell apart.”

“So the Coven did not survive Hothlurian’s death.”

“Not really. A bunch of them bolted before being held accountable, and at least one of them decided to set some of their monsters loose to try and cover their tracks. Cheryl, the woman you saw with Hothlurian, helped clean up the mess in exchange for being allowed to disappear. There is still a lot of chaos back home, but Jenny and the others are dealing with it. I reckon we’ll be seeing them here sooner or later.”

“Why, Jack…you aren’t helping them deal with the chaos?” She winked at him.

Jack shrugged. “If they needed me, I guess. But my place is here. I told you that. I came here as quick as I could.”

Delcina stood and paced a few steps, stopping to stare over her shoulder at the palace wall. “Things have been impossible since I returned, Jack. Everything has changed. I never knew how much my father did every day. The war seemed so much simpler.”

“Life has to get back to normal, I reckon.”

“Yes.” Her smile was half-hidden at her angle. “I reckon. But I still don’t know what normal is.”

“That makes two of us.”

She looked down at the flowers and bushes at the palace wall. Jack couldn’t see her face at all. “I’ve had no less than five prospective suitors this last week. That’s less than the week before. Our betrothal was annulled even before I arrived. I have several advisers who tell me it is what is best for the kingdom. They insist the best prospects are a baron’s son who fought in the war against us—strictly behind the lines, of course—who had a stronger claim to the throne than Taliel and is a distant cousin of mine, and a young prince of Cumberland.”

And there it was. The uneasiness in the pit of his stomach transformed into a lead weight. “What have you told them?”

“I told them that I would contact them should my current status change.”

“Will it?”

“I am in no great hurry, and I know your heart seeks adventure.”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, maybe you are right. I mean, sure, we just saved the world and stuff from a super-powerful immortal son of a bitch and all, but maybe I ought to aspire to something bigger.”

Her eyebrows came together so quickly to form a “V” over her nose that he thought he heard them clack together. She held up a fist. “Jack, so help me I will hit you. I will hit you so hard you will never get that hat to fit on your head again.”

He laughed. “Delcina, I had my adventure. It hurt and it scared the hell out of me, but I reckon we did the right thing. It also brought me to you. After all that, I’m about ready for a different one now. I’d like to maybe learn a trade or something, make it on my own for a little bit. Of course I’ll help out the Wardens and the witches if they need me. But my mind ain’t changed from what I said at Josie’s. I want to be wherever you are.”

Her face softened. “Even in a kingdom where some people will hate you simply for being who you are?”

“In the kingdom with the girl I’m in love with, and who is in love with me? It ain’t actually all that complicated. I can’t see being anywhere else.”

She smiled and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Jack. Yours remains the truest heart I have ever met. And my heart belongs to you. That will never change. You are right–it really is no more complicated than that.”

She stepped forward into his arms, and he pulled her in tightly as their lips met. The fragrance of the garden mingled with the fragrance of her hair. The roof of the gazebo began to tap with a renewed sprinkling of rain, but they were warm and safe in each other’s arms.

Jack reckoned that was how it always ought to be.

Jessabelle Rose, International Super-Spy, pulled her father’s jacket tighter. The late October air had a bite to it. The weather had seemed somewhat milder Around the Bend last night, but as far as she knew it was just as cold there tonight.

She knocked on the door to Hattie’s trailer. While she waited for the door to open, she amused herself by realizing that she still thought of it as Hattie’s trailer, and wondered how long it would be before she thought of it differently. Maybe never. That would probably be okay.

Jenny opened the door, and her face lit up. “Jessabelle! Come on in!” Her hair was coming back in, and if the light was just right, her burn scars were invisible.

Jessabelle returned the grin, and stepped up the stairs into the double-wide trailer home, and hugged her cousin tightly, as if she hadn’t just seen Jenny a few days ago. Jenny returned the hug with equal enthusiasm.

The trailer was warm, dry, and smelled of herbs. It felt like Hattie. At Jenny’s motion, she flopped down onto the couch. “Ah, can I spend the night here? I miss this place.”

Jenny chortled, taking a chair. “If you are going to spend the night in town, I think your mom would rather you stay there. All your stuff is there, anyway.”

“I know. I’m headed over there right after this, and I reckon Mama will insist on it. So how’s your studying for your G.E.D. comin’ along, anyhow?”

Jenny sighed dramatically. “Hard. I can read better now with the Sight, but it’s still hard and slow. But learning Braille at the same time is even harder. Sean and Debbie came by last week and took me on a trip to visit the university campus. It was supposed to motivate me for the college experience.”

“Did it?”

Jenny shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Honestly, it was just good to get away for a weekend. People keep coming to see me about things.”

“Get used to it. You are the Blood Creek Witch, after all.”

“No, that’s Grandma Annie.”

“Not anymore. She says she’s retiring from all that now that she’s getting married to her guy down in Hobbfield. Which, she told me to tell you, you would know if you bothered to visit more often.”

Jenny shook her head. “What? I was there just last…no, two weeks ago. Wait, no, that’s when I spent the day with Arlan because he had some leave time…”

“Arlan? Not Callan?”

Jenny lowered her head sheepishly. “Um, I’m visiting him next week. And… Oh, no! Jessabelle, I am a terrible granddaughter!”

Jessabelle giggled, and grabbed one of Hattie’s old throw-pillows and hugged it. “No, you ain’t, and Grandma Annie doesn’t think so either. But you do need to visit her soon. Anyway, it’s because of your duty as the newly designated Blood Creek Witch that I am here, anyway.”

Jenny cocked her head to the side. “Is this some kind of official Warden thing?” Jessabelle was not officially a Warden. In fact, the Wardens were no longer sure of what their official role was now that their ancient foe was gone. Jessabelle had already heard rumors about nations reconsidering their longstanding contracts to support the independent army. Jessabelle didn’t understand half of it. However, Lisbet Crane—now a favorite to succeed Ulster as Chief Warden, assuming there’d be Wardens to be chief of much longer—had taken Jessabelle to be her confidante, courier, and—much to Jesabelle’s delight—super-spy.

“Official? Kind of. You have a visitor. Three, actually. And if it weren’t for two of them, I’d leave the third freezing in the car for another hour.”

“Who is it?”

Jessabelle took a deep breath, and set the pillow to the side. “You ain’t going to like it.”

Jessabelle could swear she saw Jenny’s white eyeballs flash. “Who?”

“Cheryl.”

Jenny stood up. The banter was over, and her anger was real. “What’s she doing here? I told her that if I ever saw her again…”

“She knows, and it’s that serious. I don’t reckon she wants to be here, either. Elise and Min are babysitting her right now.”

“They can’t stop her if she tries anything.”

“She won’t. I don’t like it, either. She may not’ve personally murdered anyone here, but I still hold her responsible, same as you. Let’s just hear her out, and send her on her way again.”

Jenny sank back into her chair. “Okay. Is she outside now?”

“Yup, waiting in the car. I’ll go fetch ‘em.”

Jessabelle opened the door, and waved to the waiting car. A minute later, Elise and Min came in with Cheryl in tow. Cheryl carried a soft leather briefcase under her arm, and literally bowed before Jenny. Jessabelle cringed. Was that how she would have approached Thadeus?

Jenny frowned. Her eyes were disturbing for anyone who wasn’t used to it, but now they were downright spooky. “Cheryl, you remember our deal?”

Cheryl nodded. “I hope that this is the last bit of business we must attend to, and then you’ll never see me again. I received a call yesterday from someone in the Kentucky government. While they’d heard the…um, news…they still had my number on file, and they needed to contact someone. Some residents have reported a goat-man outside of Jackson, and they need it investigated and dealt with, if true. I told him that the Coven no longer exists, but he begged me for contact info for our replacements. I doubt he’ll be the last one, and I am no longer in a position to assist.” She set the briefcase on the coffee table. “That’s our contact info for all of our clients, mostly state and federal officials. If you will give me the contact info to refer them to if they should call me again, I’ll pass that along. Oh, it also has the information on the Kentucky case.”

Jenny shook her head. “I don’t want that. I can’t deal with it.”

Cheryl shrugged. “It may not be your mess, but there’s no one else to clean it up. It’s your choice. I’ve done what’s left of my duty. I’m sorry for disturbing you.” She turned to leave.

Min turned to Elise. “I’ll be out in just a minute.”

When they had left, Jenny fumed. “What a total…” She trailed off, squeezing her hands into fists.

“Bitch,” Min said. “That’s the word you’re looking for. You know, I can talk to Leon about the Kentucky thing. He can pull together a couple of Wardens and buddies from this side to deal with it. You could join us. We could use some super-witch backup.”

Jenny sighed. “I’m not a super-witch, Min. You know that.”

Min shrugged. “You could have fooled me. Anyway, we can take care of the Kentucky problem. For now. Hate it all you want, but my former organization did serve a useful purpose. Now we are left with a vacuum, and these calls are going to keep coming.”

Shaking her head emphatically, Jenny said, “I can’t deal with them.”

“You’re the one who killed Thadeus.”

“But I’m not! I had lots of help. I can’t do this alone.”

Min put her hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Okay. Listen up, Jenny. This is going to sound pretty disingenuous coming from me, but it’s the truth. You aren’t ever going to be alone. You have friends. You have family—related in spirit even if not by blood. You have tons of people who will literally put their life on the line for you.” She grinned broadly. “And, to get practical, you’ve got leads on some potentially lucrative emergency contracts. A lot of people will be happy to share this burden—and the rewards—with you. It’ll be okay.”

Jenny looked at Jessabelle. Jessabelle laughed. “Hey, don’t you worry about me! You know I’m with you. We Rose girls have to to stick together, no matter what.”

Loved the Blood Creek Series? Read on for an exclusive look at the supernaturally thrilling Five series by Holli Anderson.

Five: Out of the Dark

Five: Out of the Dark - Chapter 1

Little blue sparks of electricity gathered at my fingertips. That should have scared me, or at least aroused my curiosity. But the scene playing out before me pushed away all other emotions except anger. Intense, red-hot anger.

I recognized the three boys from school―future serial killers, to be sure. The trio had Sadie tied to a tree. Her usually silky black coat was covered in dirt and pine needles.

One of the boys―Justin was his name; we had History together―looked up at me. “Hey, look. It’s the preacher’s daughter. Maybe we can try it on her next.” He hocked a loogy and spit at my whimpering dog. They all laughed.

Sadie yelped as one boy held her tail up while a greasy haired boy knelt behind her holding a flaming lighter. He moved it closer to the firecracker they’d shoved in her behind. I could smell the singe of her fur. A fresh flurry of electric anger pushed its way out through my fingertips. My hair flew about my head, gathering more of the little blue bolts.

Then, I lost it. Completely lost it. I pointed at the boy with the lighter and let loose all of my anger and fear.

“Get Away!” I screamed, and with those two simple words, that fear and anger formed into something tangible and strong. An unseen force rammed into that sadistic boy with the power of an NFL linebacker. He flew into the tree directly behind him. The breath was knocked clean out of him. His brave, dog-torturing friends looked at him, then at me, then they high-tailed it out of there, leaving their fallen friend in a moaning, gasping heap on the forest floor.

I ran to Sadie. My hands shook as I removed the offending explosive device from her butt. I untied her, all the while keeping an eye on the remaining enemy. I needn’t have worried, though. As soon as he was able to breathe again, he crawled away from the little clearing, mumbling something about “a witch.”

Sadie rained slobbering dog kisses all over my face as I slumped the rest of the way to the ground. The contents of my stomach exploded from my mouth. When I finished puking, I held my hands in front of me, turning them, examining them. The blue sparks were gone. Maybe I just imagined it. I shook my head. No, I know I did something to throw that sick creep away from my dog.

What just happened?

The sun slipped behind the trees and the drop in temperature finally forced me to move. I rubbed my arms as my Lab and I walked along the darkened path leading to the back yard of my house.

“Paige, you’re late,” my mom said when I entered through the back door into the kitchen. “You know your dad’s rule, we all have to be home in time to eat dinner together.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

She lowered her head to look into my eyes. “Are you okay, honey? You’re pale as a ghost.” She felt my forehead with the back of her hand.

“Yeah,” I looked at the floor. “I’m just tired. What’s for dinner?” I wasn’t lying. I was tired. Exhausted, actually.

She turned her head and scrunched up her brow. “Hmm. Chicken casserole. I hope you aren’t coming down with something. Go wash up so we can eat.”

Dad said Grace and the three of us dug in. I gulped down my dinner then asked to be excused. “I have some homework I need to get done.”

“Okay, sweetheart, go ahead. Love you,” my dad said.

“Love you, too.” I kissed them each on the cheek and hurried to my room, Sadie at my heels.

The only homework I planned on doing that night was to try to figure out what had happened in the clearing. And, to see if I could do it again.

The first thing I did was flip open my laptop and hit the power button, thinking maybe the internet would have some answers. It powered on for a brief moment before emitting a sick sounding series of beeps followed by a pop. The screen went black, the power light turned off, and that was it. It wouldn’t power back on.

“What…no, no, no.” I growled as I pushed buttons and checked the cord. My dad was not going to be happy. After much begging on my part and studious research on his, he’d finally caved in and bought the laptop for my sixteenth birthday just a few weeks earlier.

I wanted to cry but forced the tears away. I needed some answers, but had no one to go to for them. Who would believe me? Well, except for those stupid boys…

Maybe it was all just a fluke. A freak incident where all things in the universe aligned for just a single moment. I picked up a pencil from my desk and balanced it on the palm of my hand. I concentrated on the pencil and imagined it floating. I thought I felt a twitch, but decided it could have just been my overactive imagination.

Flashing back to the earlier events, I remembered saying something out loud when I blasted the boy.

Concentrating on the pencil again, I imagined what I wanted it to do, then I added a word.

“Rise.”

The pencil lifted a couple of inches. My heart jumped into my throat and I jerked my hand back. The pencil dropped to the hardwood floor with a rattle. So much for it being a onetime thing.

Sadie looked up from where she lay on my bed. She whined, low and brief, before laying her head back down. I picked the pencil up. My heart raced as I concentrated once again.

“Rise.”

The pencil rose just inches from my outstretched hand. It hung in the air. I continued to concentrate and lowered my hand down to my side. The pencil stayed suspended in air.

“Are you seeing this, Sadie?” I whispered. She raised her ears at the sound of her name.

A gentle flow of energy formed deep inside my chest. It reached forward and wrapped around the pencil. When I cut the flow with a conscious effort, the pencil dropped to the floor.

Bending to pick it up, I shook my head. I twirled the pencil in one hand, sat on my bed and scratched Sadie behind the ears with my other hand. I laid down and thought about what could have caused my newfound, frightening talents.

Hmm. I don’t remember being bit by a radioactive spider. No exposure to gamma rays. I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t find me in a field surrounded by the remains of a spaceship. I ran through all I knew about magic and super-human abilities. Which wasn’t much―just the comic book stuff. Which wasn’t real. Maybe an alien life force implanted a chip in my brain.

I drifted off to sleep as chaotic thoughts bounced around my head.

Things were a little weird at school. The three creepy boys avoided me like I was a leper. I was completely fine with that, even a little proud of it. The weird part was more related to things that kept happening around me. Like in the computer lab, when my computer and the one on each side of me sparked and went dead. Lights flickered when I drew too close. My friend’s cell phone combusted when she handed it to me to look at a picture she’d taken. The effect I seemed to have on electronics now made school life difficult.

When not in school, every spare moment I had was spent holed up in my room or out in the clearing where the strangeness all began. I pushed myself to see what else I could do. I was scared and thrilled with each new discovery. Being the daughter of a pastor, the thought crossed my mind on more than one occasion that these newfound abilities might be something evil. I talked myself out of believing that with the promise I would use my powers only for good.

One of my favorite spells―I didn’t really have another name for them―was uncovered one evening when I was in the clearing. Darkness set in early. Black clouds rolled above, threatening to drop their heavy load. My favorite ring fell into the pine needles blanketing the ground, and it was useless to search for it in the rapidly declining light.

Concentrating on what I wanted, I held my hand in front of me in a cupping motion and said, “Light.” What looked like a miniature blue star appeared there, hovering an inch above my palm. It emitted as much light as a flashlight and I found I could increase or decrease the brightness with my thoughts.

Since I was treading in uncharted territory, I knew no names for the spells I uncovered. I named them as I went along. My first thought at seeing the little blue star was the childhood poem, “Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.” So, I called it star-bright.

The thrill of discovery was like a drug to me. And, as was the way of drugs, the crash was hard and painful. Of course my parents had noticed the change in my routine, and what, to them, probably seemed like ominous signs. I would run in after school, full of energy and excitement, and go directly to my room or out to the woods. After spending hours practicing, I would show up in the kitchen for dinner, exhausted and blurry eyed.

Friday, after school, I set out for the clearing, thoughts of having all of Saturday to myself running through my head. I reached my destination, and with a rush of excitement, I set straight to work. I’d just figured out levitation using the reluctant Sadie as the levitatee.

“Paige! What…what are you―?”

At the sound of my dad’s astonished voice, the spell broke and Sadie dropped to the ground. I whirled around.

“Dad, I can explain.” I don’t know why I said that. I couldn’t explain.

“Paige, what are you doing? How did you do that?”

The anger in his voice scared me.

“I…umm…I’m not sure, Dad. I’m just, magical. I guess.”

“No. No.” His voice cracked. “This is of the Devil. This is a Dark Art.”

“Dad―”

“We’re going back to the house right now and you’re going to explain to your mother and me what kind of evil you’ve gotten mixed up in.”

Back at the house, my mom cried silently while my dad worked himself into a fit of rage the likes of which I’d never seen. He was convinced I’d made a deal with the Devil or gotten involved in the Dark Arts.

“Dad, I don’t even know what ‘Dark Arts’ are.”

“Liar! My daughter is a liar,” his voice broke. “There is no other explanation, Paige.”

“Dad―”

“No more. No more lies tonight. Go to your room while your mother and I decide what to do.”

Before dawn broke the next morning, I learned what decision they’d come to.

I awoke to two burly men in black uniforms looming beside my bed. The sound of my mom’s exhausted sobs drifted down the hall. Sadie stood in the doorway, muscles taught, hind legs bunched up, ready to spring; her lips curled back in a snarl, teeth like white daggers dripping with saliva. My dad grabbed at her collar and held her there as she growled at the strangers near my bed.

“Paige, these gentlemen are here to take you somewhere to get some help. Your mom and I will visit when we can. We love you.” He turned and dragged the furious Sadie from the room.

“I’m Dan. Get dressed. You won’t be taking anything with you,” said the muscle man on my left.

I made no move to rise. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe. No more questions. Get dressed.”

My mind raced. I couldn’t go with them.

“Could you please wait in the hallway while I get dressed?” I asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Dan answered. “We’ll turn around while you change.”

“No. No way. Dad!” I yelled toward the open door. “Dad! Please! You can’t do this. Please! Mom, don’t let him do this!”

My mom’s sobs increased, tearing at my heart, but she didn’t come to my rescue. Her anguished cries grew softer as she moved further from my room.

“Paige,” Dan took a step closer to me, his voice gentle but firm. “We can do this the hard way or we can do this the easy way. It’s entirely up to you.”

I pushed my back up against the headboard in an effort to put distance between us. I shook my head. “Dad!” I screamed. “Don’t do this! Let me explain!”

“Your dad isn’t going to change his mind. Get dressed, Paige.”

Not knowing what else to do, I climbed out of bed on the opposite side from where the men stood. My legs nearly collapsed beneath me when my feet hit the floor. My mind raced, trying to figure a way out of there.

“Turn your backs, please.” My voice shook.

I changed my clothes in record time.

“You’ll want your jacket, it’s chilly outside,” Dan said.

I grabbed my pea coat from the hook by my door. The men stood on either side of me. Taking no chances, they grabbed my upper arms, one on each side, and escorted me out the front door.

There was no way I was going to let them force me into the black car parked in the driveway. I had only a few feet to make my move, if I was going to escape. I turned and stared back at the only home I’d ever known. I could hear Sadie’s hysterical barking and scratching at the door. The blinds in the living room window twitched and I caught a brief glimpse of my mom’s tear-streaked face.

I hadn’t practiced any defensive spells―I hadn’t thought there would be a need to. But there was one such spell I was pretty sure I could pull off because I’d used it before.

We drew within one step of the car, and I planted my feet, balled my hands into fists and readied myself.

“Get away,” I growled.

Borne of fear and anguish, the will with which I infused the spell was strong. The hands that held me tore free of my arms. The large men soared through the air in opposite directions. I didn’t know or care how far they flew or where they landed. As soon as I felt the release of their grips, I started running for the thick trees bordering our property.

I didn’t stop running for what seemed like hours.

Unsure of where to go, something unseen pulled me. I walked or ran the entire day, never stopping to rest. I tried to stay hidden―not a difficult thing to do in the Pacific Northwest where there are thickly-packed trees everywhere. At nightfall, I found myself boarding the last ferry of the night headed to Seattle―lucky for me it was free for walk-ons going that direction. I curled up on a bench and slept for most of the hour-long ride.

Tap here to buy the full eBook now.

Looking for more?

Find your next favorite book from Immortal Works by subscribing to our monthly newsletter. You’ll receive special offers, bonus content, and news about our latest eBook, paperback, and audiobooks.

Tap here to subscribe.

Jay Barnson is a writer, software engineer, and an award-winning video game developer. He grew up on a steady diet of classic Science Fiction and Fantasy, much of it from the pulp era. He has written fiction and non-fiction for several anthologies and magazines, including The Escapist and Cirsova, and a DragonComet award winner. A transplant to Utah, Jay was born in the hills of West Virginia, and uses the word “y’all” by choice, not by habit. And for the last time, he’s not the one to blame for the one sock of each pair that keeps going missing in your dryer. It was the aliens. Aliens!