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

Blood Creek Devil - Chapter 1

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About the Author

Immortal

Immortal Works LLC

1505 Glenrose Drive

Salt Lake City, Utah 84104

Tel: (385) 202-0116

© 2020 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 978-1-7343866-7-7 (Paperback)

ASIN B086DBJCM7 (Kindle Edition)

To Julie, who loves a good ghost story.

Useless. That was what he was.

Sean Williams let another arrow fly toward his target. It was harder to see the bullseye as darkness descended, and his arms were so weak from practice that his aim was lousy. He didn’t care. Maybe, if he practiced enough, and if the giant that had escaped into the wilds of West Virginia ever appeared again, he could put an end to it. That, or die trying. At least he wouldn’t be useless.

His friends were missing. His clairvoyance—the ability to see ghosts more easily than most people—was rendered useless by the painted wooden amulet around his neck that he had to wear to hide from Avery. Even his college degree was useless in this depressed community. He paid rent out of trust fund payments and ran errands for Hattie Rose, and that was the extent of his usefulness.

Every time he drew the bowstring, he considered leaving. Every time he let the arrow fly, he talked himself out of it, mainly out of a sense of responsibility. He was involved in this mess, like it or not. But every once in a while, a nagging thought bugged him that he couldn’t completely dismiss: He was still fascinated by a woman from “Blood Creek” who’d been dead almost half a century, and he wasn’t quite ready to sever that thread of a connection and move on.

He drew the arrow back to the same point on the lower-right of his chin, ignoring the slight tremor of fatigue in his arm. Next time, at least, he might be able to hit his target.

A call of “Hello?” from a few feet away spoiled his shot. The arrow flew to the left and low, careening off a nearby tree and ricocheting into the air. A girl squeaked in surprise.

“I’m sorry!” Sean called, turning to the voice. “Are you okay?”

In the half-light of sunset, the girl looked to be around Sean’s age. Her light-blonde hair probably came from a bottle. Her pink blouse and the rest of her clothes came from boutique shops in the city rather than the thrift-store standard of most of the locals. Sean couldn’t begrudge her that. After all, he was living on his grandfather’s wealth, wasn’t he?

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. You’re Sean, right?” Unlike many of the people in Maple Bend, her words came out with only a hint of an accent. Like Debbie, she made an effort to change her accent. In Debbie’s case, it was so she wouldn’t get unfairly judged by people from outside the region. A memory flashed of how Debbie would let her accent slip when excited or flustered. He fought the urge to grin at the thought.

“Yes, that’s me. Are you from Maple Bend?”

“Yep, I’m a local. I’m Christine King.” This was an important distinction, given how the population of Maple Bend had more than doubled since the dead ogre and snallygaster had made national news. “Most folks call me Chrissy.”

“I’ve seen your father a couple of times.”

She laughed lightly, tossing her hair. “Yeah. Please don’t hold that against me. He likes to act like he’s responsible for the whole town, like a mayor or something, but he only owns a bunch of vacant properties.”

He liked the way she laughed. As he unstrung the bow, he said, “It’s really nice to meet you, Chrissy. I guess I should have gotten out and met more people.”

“You were friends with Jack Parsons and Jessabelle Rose, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I met them when I arrived.”

“While you were working for Evelyn?”

Sean’s hands tightened on the bow. This conversation was headed in a dangerous direction. Didn’t Jack say that Mr. King knew Evelyn and Thadeus? That he did work for Thadeus? Could her father have sent her here to try and get more information out of Sean? He really didn’t want to believe it, and Chrissy didn’t seem aggressive. Just… informed.

“Yeah. I got roped into helping her when I first arrived.”

“Do you still work with her people?”

He picked up the quiver and prepared to leave. “No. I’m sorry. I’m the wrong guy. The best I can hope for is that they ignore me now.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not why I asked. I was hoping you’d say that. I’m sorry. It’s just hard to know who to trust these days. Not when my daddy…” She trailed off. “I reckon maybe I’ll do better talking to Jack. Or that new girl, Jenny. Do you know where I can find them?”

Sean shook his head. “What do you need?”

“I can see things. Like Jack. Only I never admitted I could see them.”

“What kind of things.”

“All kinds of things. Monsters. Ghosts, like that lady in the church, or the people in the old graveyard. I want it to stop, and I don’t know how. My daddy made a deal to protect me, but I don’t know if he can anymore. Especially not from the man with the purple knife…”

Sean felt himself go cold in the hot August night. “What do you mean, a purple knife?”

She drew close. “He scares me. Almost every night, I see him out the window, like he’s searching for something. He has silver hair and a dark suit. His eyes glow. And he’s got a terrible knife that glows, too.”

That sounded like Avery, all right. “Look, Chrissy, whatever you do, do not let him know that you can see him! He is very dangerous.”

“How do you know?”

“Just trust me on this, okay?”

“Can you stop him? Can you make him go away?”

“I don’t know. But I can talk to people who might.”

“But what about you? If you’ve seen him, what do you do?”

“I have something that protects me. I’ll get one for you, too.”

“Something? Like what?”

“An amulet. It’s just a simple thing, but it stops you from seeing ghosts, or being seen by them.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh!” She glanced over her shoulder at something in the woods, and said, “That would be perfect! Thank you so much, Sean.”

* * *

The smells of a delicious dinner filled Hattie’s double-wide trailer when he returned. Hattie grew her own herbs, primarily for mail-order sales or for little granny-witch spells when the neighbors asked, but she knew how to use them in food with the expertise of a master chef when she felt the inclination to cook. This happened more frequently once Sean had moved in. He “temporarily” took over Jenny’s room, as if she’d return any day now. Jenny had barely lived there a week, and had been gone for two months. Sean still thought of it as “Jenny’s Room,” and insisted on paying Hattie rent.

Linda Rose, Jessabelle’s mother, stood in the living room. Her makeup did not entirely disguise the dark circles under her sunken eyes. A legal-sized folder sat on the kitchen table, near two glasses of untouched iced tea. She bristled as Sean entered the room, casting a quick glance at Sean before returning her attention to Hattie. Hattie leaned against a kitchen counter next to the table, hands clasped together. The stove was turned off, some kind of ground-beef dish cooling inside a frying pan.

Linda straightened her back. “Will he be able to find out if she’s… um, there?”

Hattie said, “You can speak freely, Linda. Sean knows.”

“Sean knows? Some boy who ain’t been here but two months?” Linda shook her head slowly, mouth open as she took gasps of air. “Did everybody know about my daughter but me?” Her face scrunched up, and she hunched over, her gasps turning into choking sobs.

“Linda, I’m sorry…” Hattie pushed away from the counter and stepped forward to comfort her sister-in-law.

Linda raised one hand, fingers curled like a claw, while covering her face with her other. “No!” she shrieked through her sobs. “Don’t you dare! You are part to blame for this. If I’d known… if they hadn’t taken me by surprise…” She mumbled something else through her hand as she struggled to regain control. Sean took a half step back and stared at the floor, trying to will himself into becoming just a piece of the furniture.

After several long breaths that quieted her cries, Linda asked, “You said Annie is still alive? You sure Jessabelle ain’t gone to live with her?”

Hattie nodded slowly. “I wish that was the case, but I don’t reckon it’s likely. Look, I’ll get these documents scanned and sent off to my lawyer friend. He’ll know what to do. We’ll get Jessabelle back. In the meantime, she’s a very resourceful girl. If she escaped them, I expect she’s really good at not being caught again.”

“But she’s out there alone!”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure she will be okay. So will you.”

“You’ll pardon me if I’m a mite skeptical, Hattie. Just do what you can. Bring me my daughter back!”

Once Linda had left, Hattie massaged her temples with her thumb and middle finger. “I’m sorry, Sean. Dinner’s going to be a little late.”

“That’s fine. Is she mad at you?”

“You might could say that, yep. Linda found out Jessabelle’s secret in the worst way possible, just as people who claimed to be authorities captured her in panther form. She saw Jessabelle change shape, and they made her sign documents they claimed would keep Jessabelle safe. She didn’t talk to me about it for several days. She finally confided in me, because she knew a little about George’s side of the family and thought I’d be able to help. When I didn’t pretend to be surprised, she threw a fit over me keeping Jessabelle’s secret. Maybe she’s right. She refused to talk to me until I got a call from Jessabelle the other day. I promised to contact a lawyer friend of mine from school who is familiar with things on the more supernatural side.”

“So who has Jessabelle now?”

“Nobody, I think. But I reckon it was the Coven who took her away.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hattie set her glass down on the counter. “Because Linda made me promise not to tell anyone. She wouldn’t even let me explain the situation to my lawyer friend until this week. Honestly, I’m getting tired of keeping everyone else’s secrets. It’s just earning me a world of trouble.” She turned the stove back on to heat the food as Sean put his archery equipment away and set the table.

* * *

“I met someone tonight,” Sean said.

“Oh? Who?”

“Chrissy King. Do you know her?”

Hattie snorted, and covered her mouth with one hand while stirring the contents of the saucepan with the other. “Yes, you can say that. Our family and hers go back several generations here. We’ve not always been on the best of terms, but we’ve tried to remain neighborly. And of course I’ve known Chrissy since she was a baby. Even then, she was a handful, and it’s only gotten worse. She’s trouble.”

“What do you mean?” He laid out the silverware the way his mother had taught him.

“Sorry. That’s gossip. Word has it that she had a colorful career in a private school, and ended up in trouble with the law a couple of times, but it’s been a while. I reckon she’s grown up a bit since then. I had my own share of wild as a teenager, too.”

Sean said nothing as he finished setting the two places at the table. Hattie laughed. “You are trying to imagine me as a wild teenager, aren’t you?”

Laughing, he said, “I can’t see it, Hattie. Sorry.”

She made an exaggerated harumph. “My sister got all the attention, and she constantly got in trouble. I s’pose I thought if I got in a little trouble too, I might not be ignored so much. Stupid idea, looking back. Honestly, nothing I did was all that bad, but it seemed like a big deal to me. I even tried running away once.”

I did too, Sean thought. The slow way.

“So what did Christine say?”

“She wanted help. She says she’s clairvoyant, like me. She has the Sight, as you say.”

Hattie stopped stirring. “No. No, that doesn’t track. That makes no sense.”

“That’s what she told me. She says she sees things all the time. And she’s seen Avery.”

Hattie closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly. “May the good Lord have mercy on her soul, then. I’m so sorry.” Opening her eyes again, she asked, “Why did she ask you?”

Sean shrugged. “Because the real monster killers are missing, I guess.”

Sighing, she repeated, “Missing. Y’all have survived some scrapes, that’s for sure. But Avery’s a whole ‘nother story. He’s already dead. Can’t kill him again.”

“Evelyn seemed to believe that there was a way. To banish him or something.”

She set the pot down and on the burner and turned down the heat. “Evelyn was also a liar, you know.”

“I know. But I don’t think she was lying about that.”

“So you are going to help Chrissy?” She answered her own question. “Of course you are.”

“If Avery takes notice of her…”

“I reckon I can make her my little wards for her windows and doors, of course. I don’t know if her parents will let her put them up. But if she really does have the Sight, and if Avery takes in interest in her, it won’t be enough.”

Sean fished the baby-blue amulet out of his shirt, where it hung night and day around his neck. “Can we get another one of these?”

“Probably. There’s a woman in Branton who made that one. Bella. You can head down there in the morning. Tell her I sent you, so she’ll know it’s serious.”

“Should you come with me?”

Sighing, she said, “I would like to, but if both of us go, that might draw some unwanted attention to Bella.”

“That could happen anyway.”

“I know. The Coven is keeping an eye on me, but I don’t know how closely. One thing at a time, I reckon. Go see Bella tomorrow and see if the two of you can help Chrissy. Just be careful around Bella. Don’t let her talk you into anything too crazy.”

“Crazier than what your nieces got me into?”

She smiled. “Point taken. Let’s eat.”

Jenny’s grandmother, Annabelle Rose, inspected the little bag Jenny had made, holding it under the shade of an oak tree rather than in the brilliant August sunlight. Peering at it with the unfocused gaze Jenny knew to be the Sight, Annie examined the magical energy contained by the tiny pouch rather than its physical workmanship. With a nod, she handed the pouch back to Jenny. “This is your best one yet. That’s good, because we are out of dried rose petals. These native roses don’t bloom ‘cept in the spring and fall. Your average granny witch would be very proud of this.”

After two months, Jenny had gained some understanding of her grandmother’s quirks. Grandma Annie shared a lot of them with Jenny’s mother. In this case, she knew there was a follow-up criticism. When Annie didn’t follow up, Jenny primed the pump by saying, “But…”

Annie snorted. “But.” She left it at that for a moment, giving Jenny some time to fill in her own criticism. After a few seconds of silence, Annie continued. “But you ain’t some average granny witch by any stretch. You have the same knack for witchcraft that your mama had. You can conjure amazing protections and healing that can rival anything that I can do, and I’ve been at this a lot longer’n you. Now, witches have different talents in different places, same as everyone, and maybe this ain’t anything you are ever going to excel at. But I reckon something is holding you back. What is it?”

“I don’t know. I tried.”

“Oh, come on. I ain’t known you that long, but I know you better’n that.”

Jenny almost threw another “I don’t know” protest at her grandma. As much as they clung to each other as family, they had also been each other’s only companions since Jack had left. Every once in a while, that proximity grated. Especially when Annie invoked comparisons between Jenny and her mother, reopening the fresh wound in Jenny’s heart. Annie had lost her daughter years ago. Jenny still expected to see her parents when she woke up some mornings, just before reality set in.

Reality. As far as that included living in another world full of monsters and sorcerers, fighting off an invasion by witches could be considered reality.

Jenny took a deep breath, allowing herself to acknowledge that Annie was trying to teach her something important. There was something bothering Jenny, after all. “It just feels wrong. Something that makes someone fall in love with you? You don’t think there’s something wrong about controlling someone’s feelings like that?”

Her grandma sat down beside the tree, leaning up against it as a backrest. Jenny followed suit, sitting down in the dirt to face her grandma. She’d gotten used to that, lately.

Annie said, “You’re thinking about Evelyn, ain’t you? What she did to Jessabelle.”

“What she did to all of you. Making you fall asleep so she could try and slit your throats. If it hadn’t been for Jack…”

Annie nodded. “Look, you know the granny witches don’t really have a concept of black magic, right?”

Jenny shrugged. “I guess. You’ve said it.”

“It’s because there ain’t such a thing. It ain’t black, white, or gray. It just is. Witchcraft is just a tool, and it’s all in how you use it. What’s a blessing for the cat might be a curse for the mouse. You gotta use it with your own conscience. Understand?”

Jenny shrugged with a single shoulder. “I suppose so. But don’t you think it’s still a violation to make someone fall in love with you?”

“If that was how it worked, then I s’pose it might be. I’ve heard there are spirits that can possess a body, steal it from its rightful owner and take control. Probably more things like that, but that ain’t what witches do. At least none that I know of. We can’t create something out of nothing. That includes emotions. Just like you did with the horses of those bandits last month.”

“But manipulating people…”

“It influences them, sure. Ain’t that what we all do every time we talk to each other, darling? You watch TV, and they are doing everything to fiddle with your emotions and make you like whatever they are selling. Ain’t no difference between this, and a woman getting all gussied up to attract the attention of some fella she fancies. Or reminding a husband or a wife of the commitments they made, and how they felt when they made them, so they won’t go astray. Or helping someone with emotional problems hold it together. That’s all it is. Whether you have a silver tongue, a megaphone, medicines, or magic, it’s all the same. Used right, it can save lives.”

Jenny frowned. “The same tool that Evelyn used?”

Annie nodded slowly. “More or less.”

Jenny shook her head. “Then it’s not fair. Nobody could have talked Jessabelle into turning against Jack like that.”

“You’d be surprised, given time and persistence. Evelyn is one of the most powerful witches I’ve ever known outside our own family. Maybe she has some abilities I ain’t seen. She sounds downright evil. You ain’t. The fact that you are questioning yourself tells me that. You have a lot of potential. Take responsibility, and you’ll do just fine, Amy. I know you will.”

Jenny stared at her grandmother in silence. She must have let her emotions seep through, because Annie looked at her face in confusion for a moment, and then closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “Oh, I’m sorry, I did it again. Jenny. I’m sorry. You look so much like your mama my brain just goes into autopilot sometimes.”

Jenny stood and looked away. “I’m not her, grandma. I don’t even know who Amy was. My mom was Patricia Morgan, and she wasn’t a witch.”

Annie didn’t stand. “She was a lot of things, Jenny. The most important things are that she was your mama, and my little girl.”

Jenny took a deep breath, and motioned towards the clothes line. “I think the clothes are dry. I’m going to go fold them and take them in now.”

Annie shrugged and went back to weeding, as if she hadn’t done anything terribly wrong. Jenny took care of the laundry, feeling angry and guilty at the same time. After her parents’ death, she’d wanted family more than anything else. Now she had what she wished for, and most of the time she was happy about it. However, every once in a while, she understood why her mother fled home when she wasn’t much older than Jenny.

* * *

An hour later, Vanya arrived with three men from Hobbfield, the nearest village to Annie’s home. Vanya was a middle-aged woman from the village, her incredibly dark hair streaked with silver. Jenny would have guessed her to be somewhere in her fifties, but on her last visit to the village, Jenny learned that the woman was nearly three decades older than that. All of the people in “Around the Bend” aged differently. Even her grandma had seemed to grow younger than her last photos on Earth. Annie jokingly blamed it on “good, clean air,” but didn’t have any better explanation.

Two of the men Jenny vaguely recognized from the village, one older and one younger. The two carried bags to Annie’s door. A third, a dark-skinned younger man, skulking in the forest with a bow, watched over them. No doubt a rear guard, Jenny thought. Vanya wasn’t taking any chances this time.

The two men unloaded more supplies inside the shack, and once finished the three visitors exchanged hugs with Annie. The older man’s embrace lasted a little longer than the rest, and Annie gave him gentle kiss on his bearded cheek. After exchanging hugs with Jenny as well, Vanya explained. “I wasn’t able to get everything. There are only two glass jars.”

Annie shrugged. “That ought to hold us until Fall, I reckon. Worst case, I still have a couple of old Mason jars I can press into service for a little while. How soon will you be able to get more?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know when I can. I heard there’s a war brewing, and there is an army building at Dane’s Point, of all places.”

Annie whistled. “A war? It don’t rain but it pours. How bad is it? And why Dane’s Point?”

“I don’t know. The king died, and folks say it’s a war over who takes the throne. The queen is on one side, and his daughter is on the other.”

“Dane’s Point is too close to comfort.”

Jenny spoke up. “Do you think it’s related to what’s happening at the crossroads?”

Annie shrugged. “I can’t figure how, but if not, it’s a crazy coincidence.”

“It gets crazier,” Vanya continued. “According to the merchant, one of the leaders of Princess’s army is a hero from another country. Guess what his name is?”

“How should I…?” Annie began. Then she shook her head. “Please don’t say Jack.”

“None other.”

Jenny stared at Vanya as she played back the last few sentences in her mind to make certain she’d heard correctly. “They can’t mean our Jack, can they?”

Annie sighed. “What do you think the chances are that it’s some other foreign boy named Jack?”

“Not good.”

Vanya said, “I’m traveling to Dane’s Point in the morning. I figured I ought to stock up on supplies before the merchants are completely cleaned out. I’ll try and find out for sure, and send you word.”

Jennie turned to Annie. “Grandma, I’ve gotta go with her.”

“I s’pose you do. I wish I could go with you, but not with Evelyn’s crew trying to beat down the back door. You just be very careful, child, and come back before any fighting gets close. I wouldn’t count on this being the kind of war that spares civilians, even women. Especially not witches. Go get yourself packed.”

Within minutes, Jenny had gathered together what scant possessions she cared about and some changes of clothes that Annie had made her. When she emerged from the shack, she found Annie speaking quietly to the older man. “I wish I could stay longer, too,” he told her. “We’ve got to hide our stores and make preparations in case the armies come. Once that’s done, I’ll come back. I promise.”

Annie grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him closer. “You’d better, Eric. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of you all summer, and I figured some farm girl had finally gotten her hooks into you.”

Eric grinned. As their faces drew closer together, Jenny averted her eyes and walked toward Vanya and one of the younger men. It was weird to think of her grandmother acting like a teenager and making out with some guy. Didn’t those urges go away when you hit thirty or something? Jenny focused her attention on securing the leather cords of her pack.

A few minutes later, Annie drew up behind her and put her arms around Jenny, squeezing gently. Annie whispered into her ear. “I wish I could protect you, Jenny. If I thought I could, I’d keep you here forever.”

“I know, Grandma. But Jack may need our help.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it. But, as far as we know, we might be needing Jack’s help.”

Jenny turned and returned the embrace. The concept of war, and everything it entailed, was only a vague, shadowy image in her mind drawn from videos and pictures. That was enough. While she had trouble imagining that anything could change in the next few days, she understood that war meant she might not be able to return as easily as she left. She didn’t want to leave, but she thought of Jack. Memories of Jack being struck by terrible creatures and being shot by crossbows filled her mind. Without magical protection, his foolhardiness might have killed him by now. She had to be there if he needed her.

Besides, she really wanted to hear about his adventures. How could Jack be a leader of an army? Sure, give the boy a shotgun and he was a decent shot. And if he felt the cause was just, he’d be the first to sign up as a soldier. But some kind of military officer? That made no sense at all.

Vanya brushed at her skirt. “I guess that’s it. We should get going so we can make it back before nightfall.”

Eric and the younger man stood up. “Sadly, yes,” Eric said, casting a longing look at Annie.

Scanning the woods around Annie’s home, Jenny asked, “Is the archer staying here or coming with us?”

Everyone looked at her. “What archer?” Vanya asked.

“Was I not supposed to notice him? The guy with the bow that came with you three.”

Vanya and Annie exchanged glances. Annie scowled. The men looked confused. Vanya turned to the younger of the two men and said, “Revus, you said before that you thought you heard a deer in the woods near us. Could that have been someone following us?”

Revus shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose so. I just knew it was bigger’n a rabbit or a fox.”

Vanya matched Annie scowl-for-scowl. “We’ve got ourselves a spy. He knows where you live, now.”

“Ain’t that big of a secret, and it ain’t the one we need to be careful about. Y’all keep going. If he is still lurking about trying to find the crossroads, I’ll find him, and I’ll make him regret his choices.”

“And if he’s gone for help?”

Annie crossed her arms. “I’m pretty good at taking care of myself, hon. Don’t you fret none. But why don’t we be careful and give y’all a little bit of protection before you leave? Jenny, you mind giving your grandma a hand?”

This time, Jenny felt no misgivings as all as she used her witchcraft to protect their little group. Unlike little love potions or the curses Annie had tried to teach her, the spell of protection came to her as naturally as it ever had.

In the morning, Sean took Hattie’s brand new Silverado into town. He didn’t know how she was able to afford a new truck or the major repairs to her home from her tiny Internet business. In fact, he was pretty sure she couldn’t. He wasn’t about to ask her. He was literally a trust-fund kid himself.

Branton wasn’t far from Maple Bend, as the crow flies. That was a local expression he really liked, “As the crow flies.” But the old road curved and switched back as it wound its way around the mountain, sometimes, but not always, following the tiny stream the locals once called “Blood Creek.” It was a long walk, and a somewhat shorter drive, though it was not something he wanted to take more quickly than about twenty-five miles an hour, even on the side that didn’t need the inadequate-looking guardrail.

Halfway down the road, a utility vehicle blocked his lane, marked with orange cones. Two men stood at the side of the road, staring up at a telephone pole, while a third man held a flag. The flagman waved Sean through, holding off the nonexistent traffic coming the other way. The telephone service had become very spotty over the last two months, theoretically due to a couple of wild summer storms combined with the number of people using the line now.

As he neared to the town, his cellphone launched into an unending stream of notifications. While he still carried it around and kept it charged out of habit, he often forgot his phone was there. It wasn’t much more than a glorified calculator in Maple Bend, though he occasionally plugged it into Hattie’s spotty Internet connection. Judging from the number of messages, he’d waited too long between updates.

Hattie had loaded him with a number of packages to drop off at the post office, including one to her lawyer friend with Linda Rose’s notes, but he wanted to visit Bella first. Following Hattie’s instructions rather than using the suddenly functional GPS function on his phone, he made his way to the tiny dirt road that functioned as the driveway to Bella’s home. He pulled the truck off to a bare patch of dried grass to the side of the driveway and got out. A hound and a German Shepherd watched him lazily from their napping spots on the front porch, and a black cat with white paws sat in the front window. The slight insect buzz matched the faint hum of overhead power lines, adorned by a handful of lazy birds.

The old house was of a patchwork construction, not always with the same materials, but with plenty of care. Like Hattie, Bella kept an herb garden, hers surrounding her porch like many people kept a flower garden. The smells were strangely complimentary. To the right of the step up to the porch, sat a small decorative black cauldron next to a garden gnome.

The woman who answered his knock at the door was a very large African-American in her fifties, wearing a brilliantly colored muumuu. She looked him up and down, and said, “You ain’t from around here.”

“No, ma’am. I’m looking for Bella.”

“I’m Bella. What you want?”

“It’s kind of complicated.”

“It’s always complicated. Who sent you?”

“Hattie Rose.”

She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Hattie, huh? What, she don’t like you or something? Come on in and sit down and tell me what it is you want, and I’ll see if I can’t make it less complicated for you.” She motioned him in, and he found himself directed to a couch in a front room decorated with an eclectic mix of art from an African sculpture to a framed photograph of Elvis Presley.

Bella closed the thick red curtains over the window. In spite of the lights, the room seemed to plunge into darkness as they blocked the brilliant morning sunlight. Sean appreciated not having to look into the glare, but the room now felt oppressive.

“What’s your name, Hon?”

“Sean Williams.”

“Okay, Sean Williams. You are the one living with Hattie right now? The one I made the spirit-charm for?” She sat down in a wicker chair across from him, which creaked alarmingly under her weight. She draped her hands over the armrests with all the demeanor of a queen on her throne.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hattie is good people. You know, folks used to come to me wanting help with problems with love or money. I do what I can to help. But the last couple of months, folks have been scared. They come to me wanting safety. If you’ve been up in Maple Bend, maybe you don’t know what’s going on down here.”

“Not exactly. I’ve been down here a couple of times this summer, but things have been a little crazy up in Maple Bend, too.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard y’all had monsters up there.”

“Yes, ma’am. Among other things.”

“I wonder if we ain’t got monsters down here, too.”

Thinking of the missing giant, Sean asked, “What do you mean?”

She lowered her voice. “I ain’t sure. Things change all the time, but I’ve never seen Branton like this. Folks who’ve lived here their whole lives have moved, or just up and vanished. They don’t tell anybody they were even thinking of leaving. Strangers have been moving in. Lots of strangers, with trucks that don’t look like moving vans. You ought to tell Hattie about that.”

“I’m not sure what she can do about it.”

“Ain’t about doing anything about it, it’s about keeping your head down. Something you ought to learn, Mr. I-Got-On-the-News-For-Killing-a-Monster.”

A man stepped out from behind the curtained hallway with a tray, bearing a teapot with a pair of cups and saucers, and a small stack of store-bought butter cookies.

“Hi,” Sean said.

Bella smiled. “This is my husband, Clarence.”

Clarence just smiled and nodded. He poured them both a cup, put two cookies each on the saucer beside the cup, and left the room.

Bella shook her head, and sipped the tea. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s trying to make himself useful. He worked at the hardware store down the road for eight years. Then just last week, they tell him and everyone else to go home. They sold the store, and said that the new management would be in touch. It’s been more than a week, now, and we ain’t been touched nowhere but our pocketbook. Maybe he thinks you might be a big spender.”

“I’ll pay whatever you think is fair, ma’am. I need another amulet—a, um, spirit-charm.”

“You do? What’s the matter with the one I made you?”

“The new one isn’t for me. It’s for a friend.”

“Ah. Well, it ain’t going to cost all that much. Reputable witches don’t charge more’n the cost of materials and a token. Some folks tip well, though. Anyway, the problem ain’t the cost, it’s the time. How soon do you need it?”

“As soon as possible.”

“It won’t work so good if it’s rushed. We’re getting close enough to the full moon that I can get it to you in about three days. Especially if you pick it up after midnight at the end of the third day.”

Sean did mental calculations, and said, “I’ll ask. Soon is important, but it has to be effective.”

“Are you sure your friend needs it? Ghosts can be frightening, but most of them ain’t no harm.”

“There’s a ghost of a serial killer, a former preacher from around here…”

“You’re talking about Avery Thomas?”

“Yes, ma’am. You have heard of him?”

“Everyone over thirty must have heard of him. I wondered if he might have come back as some kind of haunt, but I never knew.”

“I think he has killed people. After he died.”

“You serious? Hattie didn’t tell me that part. Day-um. I can see why getting this spirit-charm is so important. ‘Specially…” She leaned forward in her chair. “You got the Sight, don’t you? That’s why Hattie had me make that amulet.”

Sean shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I guess. Maybe? But I never saw a ghost before until almost a year ago.”

“You never saw one, or never realized you saw one?”

“I can tell. Their eyes aren’t right. Well, except for one.”

“You must have the Sight pretty good, then. But, sometimes, no matter how much Sight you got, you still can’t tell. Especially when you ain’t expecting to find a ghost. More than that, haunts come in as much variety as people. Some are just like recordings. They play back something important, and that’s all they do. Some are just like they were when they were alive. And then there are some that are downright nasty. Those usually weren’t ever human to begin with. They just are. Those are usually the kind the spirit-charms are for. Well, them, and those with the Sight who don’t want it.”

“The nasty spirits, though. They can touch the physical world?”

“Most spirits can, but not for long. It tires them out. Ain’t many that can reach out and hurt us. There are some. I’ve seen ‘em here. Plat-eyes, my grandma used to call them. They try to disguise themselves as animals, even people, but they ain’t very good at it. Sometimes they have their eyes dangling out of their heads. Watch out for them.”

“But what if we want to see a ghost? One in particular?”

She leaned back in her chair. “You seen it before?”

“Yeah. The first one I saw. A girl.”

She shook her head. “I ain’t into séances or any of that crap. I don’t do that. I got my opinions, but I’ll leave them be. I can’t help you there.”

“Oh! Not like that. No, I…” What did he want, really? Again, he shifted on the couch. “I really just need to know how to get rid of Avery.”

“I can’t really help you with that, either. I would if I knew how, but I don’t. I know a thing or two about spirits, and I can’t help but see ‘em. I know how to make some charms that work on the spirit realm. Outside of that, I can’t do anything like what Hattie can do.”

Sean nodded. “It’s a start. Everything I know, I looked up in the library or on the internet, and most what I read contradicted itself.”

“Of course it does. You got the Sight, though, so you can find out some of it yourself. Just be careful though. Like I said, there are dangerous spirits out there, not just Avery and the plat-eyes. They can do terrible things to you, and not just physically. Learn to protect yourself.”

“Can you teach me?”

“I s’pose I can, once things have settled down.”

“Settled down how? You mean with the trucks and people leaving?”

“Yes. I ain’t going anywhere. I refuse to leave. At this rate, though, Branton might leave without me.”

* * *

After he left Bella’s home, Sean stopped at the post office to drop off the legal documents from Linda Rose. A lone postal worker at the desk gave instructions to a man with his back to Sean.

“Yup, that’s all. Just head up that road about eight miles. Ain’t but maybe four miles as the crow flies. Then you make your first big left, along a dirt road. Ya can’t miss it.”

Sean shoved the thick envelope through the slot. He turned to leave, but froze as a familiar voice replied. “That’s what you told me before, but the road took me to a pair of trailers.”

“Oh, that ain’t no road, that’s the Hawkins’ driveway. No, you need to go almost another mile past that.”

Sean considered walking out the door. It would be easy enough. Pretend he never heard anything. But, that would only delay the inevitable.

The man’s voice rose slightly. “Is there another driveway I need to watch out for? What’s the difference between a road and a driveway around here, anyway?”

Before the postal worker could answer, Sean spoke up. “Hello, Dad. I guess you are looking for me?”

Halfway to Hobbfield, Jenny caught a glimpse of the archer in the woods as he paralleled their course. She was about to say something, but Eric glared at her and shook his head. “Either he is not very good at stalking us, or he is deliberately trying to lure us away,” he said quietly. “Either way, it is probably best for us if we pretend to take no notice of him.”

“But we should do something!”

“Like what? Are you going to go kill him? Capture him?” Eric’s question seemed genuine rather than hyperbolic, which shocked her. Did he honestly expect her to kill a man? He knew Annie very well. He’d know that she wouldn’t approve of anything like that.

Or would she?

“No. I just want to find out who he is and why he’s following us. Do you think he’s one of the bandits we fought off a few weeks ago?”

“No tellin’.”

Jenny frowned, but continued walking with the group and pretending to be clueless. Her shoulder blades itched with the knowledge the archer was somewhere watching them, and perhaps held a personal grudge. In spite of the protective spell, she could almost feel the arrow striking her.

They arrived in Hobbfield in the late afternoon. Tired, hot, and paranoid, Jenny wanted nothing more than to hide in Vanya’s house until morning. Vanya set Revus to work on what sounded like a “bath.” Shortly after dinner, Vanya invited Jenny to enjoy the bath first. Not fully understanding, Vanya explained that unlike back home, there was no convenience of a water heater—it all had to be done manually, and families took turns. The first person in got the cleanest water. At Annie’s, Jenny had gotten used to cold mountain water in a tub made less cold by sitting in the sun. It wasn’t great, but it got the job done. After two months Around the Bend, Jenny luxuriated in the comfort of a hot bath for a precious few minutes, before relinquishing the hot water to her hostess.

Vanya had her stay in a bedroom that had previously belonged to Vanya’s daughters. Once again, Jenny basked in the privacy and comfort of a room she would have considered tiny a few months earlier. The simple decorations made her wonder what growing up in Around the Bend would be like. She still dearly missed things like air conditioning and television, but over the last several weeks she’d grown used to fewer creature comforts. Now, by comparison, a private room and a comfortable bed all to herself felt almost decadent.

* * *

Jenny felt like she’d barely closed her eyes before Vanya knocked on her door and woke her. It was well after dawn, and it was time to leave.

“You should have knocked earlier. I could have helped you get ready,” she said.

Vanya shrugged. “Wasn’t much of a problem. I just needed to hitch the mules to the wagon. We aren’t carrying much on our way down.”

“Not much” proved to be half a wagon-full, as the other villagers had given Vanya a number of things to trade for supplies. Once everything was secured, Vanya set a medium-barreled gun on the floor of the bench, and a leather pouch with long hide drawstrings beside it. She wrapped the drawstrings around a post, and then clambered aboard, motioning for Jenny to take the seat beside her. Once they were both on the bench, Vanya took the reins and urged the mules forward.

The wagon springs were nothing like the shock absorbers of modern cars, and the cart squeaked and bounced with every bump along the trail. Once they were out of view of the village, Jenny sang her protective song over both of them, renewing the protection from the night before.

“Is that necessary?” Vanya asked.

“When my friends came here a few weeks ago, they were attacked by a unicorn within minutes. Then a giant. Then a whole bunch of giants. And then last time we were in Hobbfield, remember how Jack was shot by all those bandits?”

Vanya laughed. “Okay, sure. I get it. Safety is important, after all.”

“I like to do it early in case we get surprised.”

“That’s why I brought Lulabelle.” She nudged the gun on the floor with her toe. “I’ve taken this road to Dane’s Point many times. My husband had to scare off critters sometimes, but I ain’t had to use her myself. I know how to shoot if I need to. I never thought of this trip as being dangerous, but if war really is coming, I reckon that might change pretty fast.”

They rode in silence for several minutes, enjoying a slight morning breeze. Jenny found herself deep in thought, and Vanya seemed content to leave her there. It wasn’t long before the breeze failed, the sun warmed the benches, and the flies came out, distracting her from her dark thoughts.

“Have you had wars here before?” Jenny asked.

“Certainly. But nowhere nearby, at least in my lifetime. These mountains ain’t exactly coveted territory, and I imagine it ain’t fun to fight in. You worried?”

“I guess. Wars were always things that took place a long way from us, too. We’d see it on the news, but it never really seemed real. At least not to me.”

“I don’t reckon it would be, unless you got someone you care about in the thick of it. Let’s just hope the rumors stay rumors, and things get resolved peacefully.” She turned to look at Jenny, and added, “If Jack is involved, I’m sure he’s fine. He struck me as a very clever young man. And brave.”

“That’s my worry,” Jenny said with a sigh. “He’s too brave, sometimes. It gets him in trouble.”

“Does it get him back out of trouble again?”

Jenny nodded. “Yeah. So far.”

“Let me tell you a little secret. If you are about to get trampled, it don’t matter much if you move to the left or to the right. The important thing is to move. Folks that hesitate when the time comes to take action are the ones who get hurt first. I get the feeling that Jack is a mover.”

As the wagon came around a turn, a pair of ropes stretched taut across the road appeared. Tied between trees, the lengths of rope were two feet apart, at knee height and chest height. They were no barrier for a person on foot, but the mules and cart wouldn’t be able to pass until they untied the ropes.

“What are those ropes for?” Jenny asked.

Squinting at the barrier, Vanya slowed the mules to a stop. “I don’t know. Who would do that? Nobody lives around here.”

In answer, an arrow struck the side of the cart, right behind the bench. Three men stepped out of the woods, aiming weapons at Jenny and Vanya. The oldest of the three, a blond-haired man missing a lower front tooth, pointed a musket at them. The other two were youth, armed with bows, who looked to be around Jenny’s age, which she mentally corrected to be at least two years older due to how people aged differently Around the Bend. One of the young men had well-cut dark hair and what seemed like expensive leather armor from what little Jenny knew. Jenny recognized the other as the archer from Grandma Annabelle’s cottage. Dusky-skinned and muscular, his clothing was likewise well-made, if simple and utilitarian. He was, in the words of her best friend Cyn Arbuckle back in Illinois, a total hottie. She hoped they didn’t have to kill each other.

“Look what we caught!” the leader said, smacking his lips.

Vanya narrowed her eyes. “Preying upon folks from Hobbfield is very poor business, bandit. We ain’t got much. But take what you need from the bag in the back.”

“We need that!” Jenny protested. “We’ve got to buy…”

To Jenny, Vanya said, “We’ll work something out. Don’t fret.” More loudly, she said, “There ain’t anything here worth getting violent over.”

Jenny thought she could hear her pulse throbbing in her ears. How dare they? What they carried was to trade for supplies that would be used to protect their world as well as her own. There was no good way to explain that to them. She stared at the dusky-skinned young man. Her protection might keep her safe from several arrow shots, but there was no way she and Vanya could overpower all three men. Her limited jiu jitsu training might allow her to get a good throw or wrist-lock in, but that wouldn’t be much more than a distraction.

If Jack were here, he’d undoubtedly leap from the wagon onto the leader without thinking twice, and probably get himself hurt. Then Jenny would help him. They made a pretty good team, didn’t they? Especially with Jessabelle. The three of them could have made short work of the bandits.

The darker-skinned young man glowed. As Jenny stared, she recognized a faint electric-blue outline around him. It was the Sight at work, letting her know that he was somehow enchanted. Her best guess was that it was some kind of magical protection. That eliminated her one advantage. She stared at the other two men in turn, but they did not bear the magical outline.

“True, true,” the leader said. “We will take what we want. But we aren’t bandits. We’re here on a mission from the Queen herself, to capture you. Or more specifically, her.” He motioned with his head towards Jenny.

Jenny opened up her mouth to say something, but Vanya spoke before she could. “My niece? What would you want her for?” Even as she spoke, Vanya gingerly moved her foot near the stock of the shotgun, hooking it with her toes and sliding it closer so slowly that it didn’t make any sound scraping across the floorboard. “She’s pretty lazy even when she isn’t sick and leaking smelly fluids all night. We’re taking her to a doctor in Dane’s Point to see if he can’t get that cleared up.”

The man laughed. “You lie quite convincingly, madam. Too bad for you, we already know she is kin to the witch of the mountains.”

“If’n you believe that, then you’d know better than to bring any harm to her.”

“We intend no harm to her. We reckon the mountain witch will be willing to do whatever we ask to see that remains the case.” He snarled. “You, however, are a waste of food.”

Vanya’s eyes widened, and she pitched forward to seize the shotgun. The man opened fire at short range, the explosion filling the air with white smoke. The darker-skinned young man dropped his aim and cried, “Why did you do that, Hoskins? You said we wouldn’t hurt them!”

“Keep the girl covered, Arlan!” the leader roared. Then his mouth opened wide in horror as he stared down the twin barrels of Vanya’s shotgun.

Vanya said nothing and squeezed one of the triggers. The shotgun kicked hard against the older woman, but she rolled her shoulder into the recoil and turned the weapon on the young man called Arlan.

As the leader screamed and reeled backwards into the woods, blood soaking his shirt, the third bandit launched an arrow through the smoke at Vanya. The arrow bounced harmlessly off her back. “They’re enchanted!” he cried, and fled into the woods another way.

Arlan held the bowstring to the bottom of his chin, the tip pointed at Jenny’s heart. Vanya aimed the shotgun at his head, the barrel unwavering. Arlan scowled, holding his breath, and then lowered his bow. After releasing the tension on the weapon, he dropped it and the arrow on the ground. “I cannot fight against your protective enchantments.” He bowed his head. “Believe me, I did not know Hoskins was going to shoot you.”

“Call him,” Jenny commanded. “He was hurt pretty bad. I can heal him so he will survive.”

“He won’t come,” Arlan said.

“Call him anyway.”

Arlan called. “Hoskins! She promises to heal you.”

Jenny added her own voice. “We promise we won’t harm you. Come back so we can make sure you don’t die!”

After a minute, nothing had happened. “I told you he wouldn’t come,” Arlan said. “I wouldn’t.”

“Why? Because you are both idiots?” Jenny asked. “I said I don’t want him to die.”

Vanya muttered, “He tried to kill me. I am a might more ambivalent on that subject.”

“You are the enemy,” Arlan said. “You may also be a witch.” He said it as if it explained everything.

“Whose enemy?” Jenny cried. “We’re civilians, and we don’t even know who you are or who you work for.”

“I serve Sanguine!”

“And this Sanguine guy told you to attack us?”

Vanya leaned closer to Jenny, keeping Lulabelle trained on Arlan. “Sanguine is a county, not a person,” she whispered.

“Oh.” Jenny turned back to Arlan. “So are you a soldier? Why aren’t you in uniform?”

He bristled. “I am not at liberty to say.”

Jenny scrunched her mouth to one side and thought for a moment. “So why did you drop your bow? That enchantment around you is probably a protection, just like ours, isn’t it?”

“I do not know what you mean.”

“Come on. Some witch gave you a protective spell, didn’t she?”

“I have no enchantments. Battle-witches are very rare in the scout infantry.”

Vanya sighed. “We can’t just leave him here. He’s a threat.”

Jenny nodded. “We can tie him up with that rope they used to stop us. Let the people in charge at Dane’s Point figure this out.”

“Good thinking.”

Untying the rope was harder than Jenny expected. The soldiers might be ruthless, nasty, and behave like bandits, but they knew how to tie knots. She could almost hear a clock ticking above her as she struggled with the knots, her face growing red as both Vanya and the young man waited for her. After what seemed like hours but couldn’t have been more than about five minutes, she finished untying the rope and brought it to Vanya. After handing the shotgun to Jenny, Vanya bound the young man’s arms and ankles and secured him to a post in the back of the wagon. Arlan focused on Jenny’s eyes as he submitted to Vanya’s expert skills. Halfway through, he rolled his eyes and looked away, perhaps realizing too late that Jenny wouldn’t have the will to pull the trigger.

“Stay in the back and keep an eye on that boy,” Vanya said when she was done, moving to the bench and taking control of the mules. “If he moves, shoot him.”

As the wagon started moving, Arlan jerked and pulled at his bonds. His attempt was futile, but he glared at Jenny. “I guess you really are the enemy now.”

She stared back. “If we are, it’s only because you made us your enemy.”

He blinked first, lowering his eyes. “I will not apologize for doing my duty.”

“Doing your duty, or following your orders?”

“There is no difference.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “You people seriously need to get television or something out here. That’s only the plot of like a hundred shows. Come on.”

He lifted his chin and lowered his eyebrows. He wouldn’t have any clue what she was saying, but that was okay.

The cart continued on its course. Jenny kept the muzzle of the shotgun pointed a little away from Arlan, because she wasn’t certain one of the many rough bounces and jolts of the cart wouldn’t accidentally make the weapon go off. She wasn’t sure which scared her more, the young man who had tried to kidnap her, or the gun. The August heat grew, and she wiped the sweat from her forehead while keeping one hand on the weapon.

Periodically, she’d focus on the magical aura surrounding Arlan. Under her grandmother’s tutelage, she’d learned to discern some of the abilities of an enchantment using the Sight, but she wasn’t very good at it yet, and this was something different from anything she’d seen. Perhaps there was a protection layered into it somewhere, but it was hard to tell. If he was under the influence of some kind of charm, she’d be able to identify the source if it was near him, but not whether or not it controlled him. Or, as her grandmother preferred, it simply “influenced” him.

After two hours, Arlan spoke again. “Could you actually have healed Hoskins?”

Jenny nodded. “Yes. I can do that. I’m kind of a witch, too.”

“Would you have? Really?”

“Of course. We would have used more rope on him to tie him up, but yeah.”

He nodded and moved his shoulders. They had to be hurting after being tied up for two hours. She wanted to help him, but didn’t dare. They rode the rest of the way to Dane’s Point in silence.

Donald Williams’ hair, more dusted with gray than the last time Sean remembered seeing it, was perfectly styled. He wore his brown sports coat in the growing heat as if it was air conditioned, and his piercing eyes were a mirror image of Sean’s. Aside from being so far away from the hustle and bustle of home, the only thing out of the ordinary was Don being at a loss for words. Sean’s father always had words.

The effect was temporary. “Sean, it’s good to see you! We need to talk.”

“Okay. We’re talking. What do you want?” Someday in the future, Sean might be glad to see his father. He’d have to get through this encounter before that would happen.

“Not here. Let me buy you lunch. Is there a good place in town to buy lunch?”

“It’s ten-thirty in the morning, Dad.”

“I’ll buy you breakfast, then. Brunch.”

“I don’t think there’s really any place to eat here, except a convenience store.”

“Come on, Sean. I drove all the way down to this hick town to see you.” The man behind the counter raised an eyebrow at Don’s comment, and then turned to pay studious attention to some paperwork. “Can’t you spend an hour talking with your Dad? Thirty minutes?”

“Fine. There’s a place called Dyl’s Super Stop up the road about four hundred yards. I’ll meet you there.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you…”

Sean was already out the door and hurried to Hattie’s truck. He wasn’t going to leave himself at the mercy of his father’s willingness to drive him back, although it wouldn’t be a long walk back if it came to it. He wanted the reassurance of a swift exit.

Dyl’s Super Stop held three empty tables inside, and more outside on the opposite side of the building from the gas pumps. While his father bought food from the one man working the shop, Sean chose an outdoor table. It wasn’t hot yet, and while the venue was almost laughable as a dining experience, he felt less confined. The trees and mountains surrounding the town reminded him that this was, at least for now, the home he’d chosen.

His father came out with breakfast burritos and two plastic bottles of orange juice. “It isn’t exactly the Four Seasons, but hopefully it will do.”

“Thanks,” Sean said.

His father sat down opposite him, looking at the sky. “There’s supposed to be a cold front coming in tonight. They are predicting rain. Could get down below sixty tonight.”

“July was pretty hot. I’ll be glad if it cools down a little.”

His father passed a paper-wrapped burrito and a juice bottle to him. “I, uh, never got to congratulate you on your graduation. First you finished high school a year early, and then you did the same with college. I haven’t seen your final year transcript, but I’m sure it was stellar.”

“I did okay.” Because of his obsession with the ghost of Debra Arnot, his grades had suffered during his final year. Not terribly, and he was never in danger of finishing school with a 4.0 average. He’d actually earned a C in one of his classes, a first. In the end, what mattered was that he graduated and he was over eighteen, as stipulated by his grandfather’s instructions to the trust fund.

“I’ll bet you did!” His father seemed genuinely pleased. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know yet.” Sean took a bite of the burrito to avoid having to answer further, but his father just looked at him expectantly. Sean finished chewing, swallowed, and continued. “I graduated so fast I never really had time to ‘find myself’ or whatever you are supposed to do in college. I figured I’d just kick around for a few months while I decide what to do. Maybe I’ll go back to school.”

His father nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds like a great idea. And of course, you are only nineteen! You should take a break for a little while. Most of the kids your age back home are working retail or just finishing their freshman year at college. But look at you! So, do you need anything?”

The question surprised Sean. “Um, no. Not really.” Nothing his father could provide, anyway. A way to destroy Avery, a trick to defeat Thadeus, a way to get back through the crossroads into another world. None of those were likely to be packaged as graduation gifts. He took another quick bite of the burrito.

“No, of course not. I heard your grandpa’s trust fund payments have kicked in.”

The burrito turned to sand in Sean’s mouth. He forced it down. “And there it is!”

“What?”

“You made how important the trust is clear four years ago. You tried to get control over the fund.”

Don closed his eyes and sighed. “There were a number of legal conflicts over your grandpa’s will. I was trying to protect it.”

“It didn’t come off that way. Especially after Mom died, it was all about money and control.”

“It’s not why I am here today. I only wanted to see you. That’s all.”

Sean poked at the burrito on the paper plate. Eggs and bacon spilled out in a chunky mess. “That’s all?”

“Yes! But since you brought it up, I am starting a new business. You are an adult now. I’d have to talk to my partners, but if you wanted to become an investor, I’m sure we could work something out. It’d be a great opportunity, and you could easily afford it with the cost of living out here, or if you came back home. Our exit strategy is in five years…”

“Sheesh, Dad! I’m not interested. At all.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. I was just offering you an opportunity! I’m trying to treat you like an adult.”

“By chasing me all the way out to central West Virginia?”

“I was worried about you. I saw the news.”

Sean shrugged. “Okay. Well, thanks, I guess.”

“I just thought that with this ordeal and all the press, you might want to get away from all this. No strings attached.”

He felt a smile come to his lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. “I appreciate the offer, but the ordeal was over a couple of months ago.”

“The press isn’t hounding you?”

“Nope, I haven’t seen much of them in weeks.”

“No lawyers?”

“Lawyers? Uh, no. At least none have talked to me. Why lawyers?”

“I don’t know. It just seems like they come out of the woodwork when something like this achieves national attention.”

“When what does? Monsters?”

“Whatever you want to call it.”

Sean leaned back in his chair, canting his head slightly as he stared at his father. “Whatever I…? What else would you call it?”

“The news shows are calling it a hoax.”

“A hoax?”

“Yes. They are saying you were responsible.”

Sean clenched his fists. “Unbelievable. People died! Are they saying I’m a murderer, too?”

Don shook his head. “They don’t really talk about that part, really. They had several scientists and forensic experts come on, explain what we were seeing, how the genetic tests showed the creatures were just mutated bovine…”

“Mutated bovine? Where the hell was I supposed to come up with a mutant cow?”

“I don’t know, but they proved it was all fake, Sean. Now, I’m sure you didn’t know anything about it…”

“I was there. I saw what happened. I don’t know who these people are, but they’re liars.”

“Maybe you think you saw something. But they’ve had a number of experts go over the evidence, and they all reached the same conclusion.”

Sean unclenched his fists and his jaw. He’d developed alternatives to flat-out arguing when his roommate was being even more thick-headed than usual. He’d never tried these with his father before. He gave it a shot. “Dad, you know that I am innocent of the things being said on TV. Thank you for believing in me.”

Don blinked. He had the look on his face he always had in their arguments, where he had only been half-listening while preparing his next comment. Sean’s words brought him up short. “Of course, Sean. I knew you couldn’t have done anything like that. I thought now might be a good time to head out and escape some of this negative media attention. Come back home for a while, or go on a road trip. I know you’ve enjoyed spending time here in hillbilly country, but it’s time for you to move on.”

“Dad, I have friends here. They may be in trouble.”

“The ones who conned you into participating in the hoax and screwing up your future?”

“For the last time, Dad, it wasn’t a hoax and my future is fine. I have seen some things you wouldn’t believe. I wouldn’t have believed in them either, if I hadn’t been in the middle of it. And my friends are in very real danger.”

Don held up his hand. “Okay. Let’s pretend that all of the investigators and scientists are all wrong, somehow caught up in a vast conspiracy, and you and your friends really did see monsters. You aren’t a Green Beret. You aren’t a cop. You are in a lot of trouble, too. What could you possibly do to help your friends if you stayed?”

Sean stood up. “I can believe in them.” He tossed his mostly uneaten burrito in a trash can a few feet from the table.

Don stood as well. “Sean, I’m here for your sake. I won’t let you screw up your life like this.”

“It’s my life. I’m nineteen. You have no say in it anymore.”

“Damn it, this is my life, too. I’ve had three different clients ask me about you after seeing those news reports.”

“Is that what this is about? Your son is causing you embarrassment?”

“No. Yes, it’s an embarrassment for me, and for your sister. She has refused to talk to me for two months, but she called me up to ask me if I knew anything about what was happening with you. You two are all I have left, Sean. I don’t know what this is, but I don’t want it jeopardizing your future.”

As if fighting monsters and bloodthirsty ghosts weren’t already putting his future into jeopardy. Sean snorted and rolled his eyes. “You don’t believe anything I’ve said, do you? Look, there are more important things going on here than us getting embarrassed by a made-up news report. I’ve got things I need to do.” He turned and walked away from his father.

Don wasn’t done. “You know I’m right. I’m not leaving until I’ve convinced you to come back with me.”

Sean half-turned and shook his head. “Get used to ‘hillbilly country’, then, because you aren’t leaving, either. Goodbye, Dad.” He quickened his pace to Hattie’s truck, and drove off, leaving his father standing in the parking lot.

As much as she feared the shotgun in her lap or the possibility of trying to use it, Jenny was surprised that Arlan didn’t struggle during their trip. He lifted his head as they approached the town, jaw set, but his eyes still widened and he blinked as if surprised they had arrived at all. His bizarre expression fascinated Jenny, but she had no idea how to interpret it. It was as much a mystery as the enchantment that surrounded him.

Dane’s Point was not what Jenny expected. Barricades made of split logs stood to either side of the road. Soldiers standing behind them aimed crossbows through slit-like openings.

Vanya muttered, “I hope this isn’t the wrong army.”

A mostly-bald man with an over-sized mustache and a quilted jacket stepped out from behind the barricade. “Halt and identify yourselves,” he said.

“We’re from Hobbfield up the road,” Vanya answered. “Except for this guy in the back, who tried to kidnap us. He said he’s from the Sanguine army, and there were two more with him. Is he one of yours?”

The bald man glanced over at the barricade for direction. One of the soldiers behind it shook his head. Another soldier stepped out, peering into the back of the cart. “Wait, is that Arlan Darikson?” Arlan responded by bowing his head and looking away. “It is! The captain is going to want to know about this!”

Suddenly there were four soldiers in the road, waving their cart along. After they passed the low stone walls of the town, more soldiers came and boarded the cart to take custody of Arlan.

Jenny sighed with relief. He was someone else’s problem now. At least this was what she told herself. Still, she worried. Would he be okay? Would they mistreat him? Maybe he was an idiot, but he was just a soldier doing his duty. That wasn’t a crime, was it? He’d tried to be honorable. He was just young. And she only thought he was cute because she hadn’t seen another boy near her age since Jack left. And…

No. He was definitely someone else’s problem now. Definitely.

Turning to Vanya, she said, “Let’s see the town! I’m so excited to explore.”

“I imagine you are. But hold your horses a bit. Let’s get your grandma’s order in first, and then we’ll start exploring.”

Another guard in a uniform approached them at a half-run. He seemed fairly young, in his early twenties, although once again Jenny had to apply the strange age-math of Around the Bend to make a guess. Brown hair, strong, with eyes that looked like he’d seen a bit too much recently. She knew the look well. The uniform confused her. She had seen no fewer than four different uniforms among the defenders of the town since entering five minutes ago.

The soldier smiled, and offered a courteous nod of the head. “Good evening, ladies. I’m Ezekiel Callan of the Royal Guard. May I speak with you for a moment?”

Jenny looked at Vanya. Vanya’s eyes widened and she whispered, “Royal Guard?”

Turning back to Ezekiel, Jenny said, “Sorry. I’m new here. The Royal Guard of what?”

“Of Sanguine, ma’am.”

“The same as the Sanguine army?”

“Yes, ma’am. Many of us started in the army. But we are a separate force.”

“Which force is protecting Hobbfield?”

Ezekiel pursed his lips, then said, “That’s a very interesting question, ma’am. We are. There are men and women on both sides from many different services. Except the Wardens, who only stand with us.” He grinned slightly. “Now, if I’ve answered your questions satisfactorily, can we get to the reason I rushed over here to talk to you? They say you two captured a soldier and brought him here. Can you tell me what happened?”

Vanya told the story, omitting any reference to Jenny’s protection spell. The two soldiers had simply missed, and Arlan had taken exception to their attack. As to why they were attacking the two women, Vanya feigned ignorance. During her explanation, Ezekiel nodded appreciatively, asked few questions, but his eyes kept straying to Jenny. At the end of Vanya’s story, Jenny interjected, “Oh, and the boy might be under some kind of enchantment.”

Vanya shot her a stern look, but the damage was done. “What do you mean?” Ezekiel asked. “Why would you think that?”

Jenny didn’t want to admit to anything else, but Arlan’s enchantment could mean that he was far more dangerous than his guards were expecting. “Um, my mother was a granny witch.” She hoped the term Hattie had taught her had any kind of meaning on this side of the crossroads. “I just learned to notice a few signs. You may want to be extra careful with him. Maybe you have someone who knows how to check on those kinds of things.”

Ezekiel nodded slowly. “We might.” He squared his shoulders. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Jenny Morgan, would it?”

She froze. It took only a few moments to assume her ‘poker face’, but her brief surprise would have been obvious to Ezekiel. “Maybe,” she answered.

He again offered his courteous nod of the head. “Would you kindly come with me? Both of you, if you please.”

Vanya scowled. “Why? Are we under arrest?”

“Why? Should I do that?” Ezekiel and Vanya stared at each other for several moments, neither one blinking. Ezekiel broke the silence and the stalemate. “I will leave a man to guard your cart and possessions while you are away. I wish to introduce you to some people who may have more questions for you.”

“Will it take long?”

“I doubt it.”

Vanya looked as clueless as Jenny felt. They exited the cart and followed Ezekiel. He led them to a stone building that bore a sign with a picture of a wagon wheel. Rather than take them through the front door, Ezekiel walked them to door on the side extension, and knocked.

A woman answered the door. Slightly younger than Vanya, she wore a gray uniform and a sword strapped to her side. “Zeke? We’re kind of in the middle of things.”

“I know. I think the war council might be interested in this.”

“Oh?” She looked over Vanya and Jenny with stern appraisal, and then opened the door wider. “Very well. Make it quick.”

They entered the door, and the woman shut it behind them. After hours in the summer sun, it took Jenny a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim room, lit by candles and dirty afternoon light coming from a single window.

“Jenny?” a familiar voice said.

Her heart leaped. “Jack?” The figure came around a table to stand in front of her. Even as her eyes adjusted, she had trouble recognizing him. It had been only a handful of weeks since they’d said goodbye, but the man in front of her looked like he’d aged two years. Some strange side effect of how people aged Around the Bend? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way?

“Uh, do we hug?” he asked.

She nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes, we do.”

* * *

They embraced. Jenny’s flood of emotion surprised her. When they let go, she looked away to wipe her eye with the back of her hand before turning back to Jack. “Grandma Annie and I were worried about you.”

He grinned and shrugged. “I’m okay. Wore out my clothes, though. What have you done since I been gone?”

She shook her head. “Not much. Training a lot. Learning to sew. We came here to get supplies, with the rumors of a war happening. Annie needs, um…” She remembered there were other people in the room. “We need replacement parts.”

Jack nodded, and turned to three other people behind the table. “We can help get her the supplies she needs, right? It’s very important.”

A handsome, dark-skinned man in honest-to-goodness metal armor nodded. He reminded her of an older version of the young man she’d held captive on the road the last several hours. Or perhaps she’d spent too much time under the hot sun. However, his voice was stronger and more confident as he spoke. “If we can source it, yes. I take it this is to keep the crossroads sealed?”

Jenny swallowed her surprise. Jack was truthful to a fault, but he was also very good at evading questions and not volunteering information. He wasn’t the type to blab. If the people in the room, even this armored guardsman, knew about the crossroads, it was either not because of Jack, or because he had a very good reason for telling them.

Jack slapped himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand. “Dang. I should introduce you. Everyone, I told y’all about Jenny. This is her. And Vanya, a good friend from the village. Jenny, Vanya, this is the war council, I guess. You done met Zeke already. He’s saved my life a bunch of times.” He motioned to the woman in the gray uniform. “That’s Commander Lisbet Crane. She commands the Wardens here in Dane’s Point. They are the folks in charge of making sure Thadeus never comes back.”

The woman inclined her head in their direction. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“The guy in leather over in the corner is Sheriff Hodson. He’s, um, the sheriff of this town.”

Jenny offered a smile to a silver-haired man who wore a vest of hard, thick leather adorned with metal studs and stood in the corner of the room. He didn’t smile back, but he raised his hand a few inches in greetings.

Jack motioned to the man in the metal armor. “That’s Bachan. He’s Captain of the Royal Guards. They’re like the Secret Service on this side.”

Bachan bowed his head slightly toward Jenny and Vanya. “Jack speaks highly of you, Miss Jenny, and says you have seen several battles together. I know him to be a man of his word, and I am grateful to have you here, if only for a short time.”

Jenny wasn’t sure what to make of that comment, but Jack was already motioning to a girl who had been partly silhouetted by the late afternoon sunlight in the window behind her. She stepped forward, and Jenny caught her breath. While Jenny never felt she was particularly attractive, it was rare that she ever thought of herself as ugly. As the young woman stepped away from the window, Jenny felt like an ogre by comparison.

Her eyes were the most startling feature. They were the pale electric blue of magic, save for the color being completely natural and lacking the telltale glow. Her braided brown hair flowed past her shoulders, but even the few stray hairs that managed to make the escape seemed to temper their rebellion in a way that almost seemed staged. With high cheekbones, a chin narrow enough to stab someone, and the ability to wear simple clothing as if modeling it on a Paris runway, the girl was everything that would have made the cheerleaders’ heads explode in Jenny’s high school. Jenny grinned inwardly at the thought.

“This is Delcina,” Jack said, stumbling through the introductions. “She’s, um, she’s…”

Delcina smiled warmly at Jenny. “I’m a friend. I’m so pleased to meet you at last, Jenny. And Vanya, Jack told me how you aided them against Zainus and his bandits. Thank you for coming all the way here from Hobbfield.”

Vanya made a movement like a curtsy. Jenny awkwardly tried to do the same, still wondering who the mystery girl was. She was saved from any further interaction by Jack facing the last person in the room, a man in the corner with a close-cropped hair and curiously modern clothing.

“And that is Leon Poulsen,” Jack said, waving at the air as if trying to grab some other means of introduction. “He’s from our side. Earth.”

Leon nodded at Jenny and Vanya. “I came in with Jessabelle. Well, after her.”

Jenny’s mouth dropped open. “Jessabelle? Where is she?”

“She’s recuperating,” Jack said a little too quickly. “The Coven sent some soldiers through a one-way crossroads in Morgantown to capture the Maple Bend crossroads from this side. Jessabelle and the Wardens stopped them. She was hurt in all the fighting, and shot up pretty bad. But you know how she is. The day after getting tore up by an ogre, she’s back into the thick of things. This one just took her a little longer.”

“I should go see her.”

“I’ll send someone to take you to her,” Lisbet said. “She’s in the care of our healer since her rather spectacular arrival several days ago. We’ve had a difficult time getting her to take the rest she needs.”

Ezekiel—Zeke—spoke up. “There’s more. Vanya and Jenny were attacked by soldiers just outside of Hobbfield. The ladies captured one of them. Jenny says he might have some kind of enchantment on him.”

“Do you know what kind?” Jack asked.

Jenny shook her head. Zeke added, “One more thing, Captain. It’s Arlan.”

Absolute silence descended on the room, and the assembled council looked to the armored warrior. Bachan responded with a humorless chuckle. “Of course it is. He probably volunteered for the opportunity.”

Lisbet asked, “So who is he?” Jenny was glad that someone else voiced the question. She felt completely lost in this world of new people, quickly falling back on her old trick of trying to stay unnoticed and watching.

“My nephew. As a youth, he was an extremely gifted hunter and tracker. I even recommended he enlist in the army, and the scouts pulled him in almost immediately. I considered bringing him into the Royal Guard, once he’d had a chance to establish himself. If only he knew who Taliel really is.”

Jenny looked to Bachan and Jack. “Um, next question: Who is Taliel?”

Bachan sighed. “That’s a really long story. Perhaps later, we can…”

Jack interrupted him. “She’s Thadeus’s daughter. The Wardens captured her a long time ago, but she pulled a body-snatch on some poor girl and got free. She used her power to mind-control the king and become the queen. When she found out I’d come through the crossroads, she murdered the king and pinned the blame on the king’s daughter and me, so she could take power.”

Bachan’s eyebrows lifted to the middle of his forehead. “There are other details, but I suppose that covers it.”

Jenny’s eyes roamed the room. “Okay. And the king’s daughter would be…?” She turned to Delcina, who smiled and waved, wiggling her thumb and three fingers on her left hand. She didn’t seem at all self conscious about the fresh scar where her pinky finger should be.

Bachan said, “Delcina, the king’s only offspring and the heir to the throne. But with the charge of murder, Taliel has assumed the role of Regent, and has enough power in the Council of Lords to…”

“Boring politics,” Jack said, interrupting again. “The important part is that right now, Taliel controls an army set to take over everything from here to Annie’s cottage, and comb the mountains to find the crossroads. She plans to rejoin her father one way or another.”

Vanya spoke. “And here I thought the prospect of war couldn’t get any more terrifying.”

As conversations began breaking out between people in the room, Jack said, “Hey, can y’all excuse me? I think I ought to go with Jenny and pay a visit to Jessabelle.”

Bachan shrugged. “I think we were done with all of the critical discussion. Based on this new information, we should increase patrols. I’ll speak to Arlan first.” After nods and agreement, the meeting broke up.

Hattie wasn’t home when Sean returned from Branton, so he grabbed his bow and went back to the field to practice. The conversations kept rolling over in his head, as he second-guessed everything said to him, and imagined all things he should have said. Archery proved to be far less of a distraction than he’d hoped. Lawsuits? People suddenly leaving or disappearing from Branton? His father pursuing him into the middle of West Virginia to try and convince him to return home?

A dozen times over the next two hours, he convinced himself that the best move was to leave. Head out to California or something, far away from what was left of his family. After all, what was left for him here? The friends he’d only known briefly were gone. These weren’t his people. There was nothing left here but ghosts, and he didn’t dare take off the amulet and get involved with them again.

Inevitably, some annoying sense of responsibility, honor, curiosity, or just plain stubbornness made him reverse his decision before he’d launched his next arrow. His friends needed his help. Even Hattie, who could take care of herself quite well in spite of suffering major injuries two months ago, could use an ally. Maybe there was nothing he could really do, and he really was useless, but it felt worse to abandon everyone to their fate.

This time, he heard Chrissy approach. He lowered his aim before she called to him, and rested his bow against a nearby tree.

“How are you doing, Sean?”

He found himself smiling as turned to face her. “Good! I went into Branton to find you some protection against the ghosts you’ve been seeing. Just like mine. She said it would be done in about three days or so.”

Her face fell. It took her only a split second to hide the disappointment, but it was enough.

“Is that okay?” Sean asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Has anything happened?”

“I saw him again last night - the man with the purple knife. I’m pretty sure he saw me, too. I’m scared.”

“Seriously?”

She shut her eyes and nodded. “Yes. He was standing outside my window.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”

“I thought you might have help already. It’s okay. I understand. I mean, he can’t hurt me, can he? All he can do is scare me.”

“Well, you’ll have the amulet soon so you’ll be safe. Hey, why don’t you take mine, in the meantime? I’m sure I’ll be fine for three days.” He took off the amulet and handed it to her.

She stared at it for several seconds. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. That amulet may be more trouble than it’s worth for me.”

“Are you sure? Isn’t it dangerous for you without it?”

“I’ll be fine. I went for a couple of weeks without it. I’m sure I’ll be okay for two or three more nights.”

“Okay. Thank you so much. I just…” She lowered it over her head, brushing her hair back over the cord with her hand. “This is real, right? This really does something?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“I ain’t had… I haven’t had anyone ever do something like this for me before. If it’s protecting you and stuff.”

“It’s okay. I’ll have a new one in three days.”

She smiled and nodded. “I will. Thank you, Sean. This means a lot to me. Tell you what? Come see me tonight, right around sundown. I’ve got something I want to show you!”

“What?”

“It’ll be a surprise. But you’ll like it, I promise.” She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. “See you tonight?”

“Uh…” Words became a challenge again. He felt his cheeks grow warm. “Sore. I mean, sure. I’ll, um, be there. Tonight.”

“You know where to find me?”

“Your house? Yeah. It’s kind of the biggest house in Maple Bend.”

She stepped back. “There are no other side effects on this thing, are there?”

“Uh, no. Why?”

Her grin broadened. “Just making sure. Tonight!”

“Sure. Tonight.”

With that, she walked away.

She had disappeared down the road before Sean realized that he couldn’t remember the conversations this morning that he couldn’t get out of his head.

* * *

When he got out of the shower a few hours later to get ready to visit Chrissy, Hattie had returned home. “How’d your shopping trip go?” she asked when he emerged in a new outfit. During his hitchhiking trip two months earlier, his two changes of clothes had not fared too well. At Hattie’s insistence he had expanded his wardrobe. He hadn’t even worn the shirt before.

“Not bad. I pick up the new amulet in three days.” He filled her in on the story, including the strange warning by Bella and his encounter with his dad. When he was done, she shrugged and idly played with her hair. “I reckon I do owe Bella a sit-down.” In the time he’d known her, Sean had learned some of Hattie’s mannerisms. She had a habit of shrugging and running her fingers through her hair that meant she was concerned about something she was treating lightly. This was one of those times.

Before he could probe further to call her bluff, she reached toward him and pulled a sticker from the manufacturer from his shirt. “Thanks,” he said with genuine gratitude.

“Sure thing. You want to make a good impression on your date with Christine, right?”

“It’s not a date,” he said.

“I hope that’s true,” Hattie said as she sat down on the sofa. “That girl has a reputation for leaving broken hearts wherever she goes.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Me? I can’t say I do or don’t, honestly. But I wouldn’t trust her. You ought to do the same.”

“It’s not a date. There’s nothing to worry about,” Sean said. “I hardly know her. Besides, Jack has a reputation around here, too, and we know nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Fair ‘nuff. Besides, this is probably a good start.”

“A good start at what?”

“Seeing other girls. A young man like you ought to be seeing some flesh-and-blood girls, not pining over my mother’s dead best friend.” She picked up a TV remote.

“I’m not pining.” Sean checked his watch. “But I am leaving.”

“Just be careful, like I said,” Hattie said as she turned on the television. “Aside from that, have fun. You need some.”

* * *

Chrissy’s father answered the door when Sean arrived. Standing just over six feet tall, he had a comfortable layer of fat sheathing practical muscle. While wealthy by Maple Bend standards, Michael King was no stranger to physical labor. He wore business attire, even this late into the evening, complete with a tie, and his neatly trimmed brown beard was peppered with gray. After a moment’s appraisal, he said, “You must be Sean. Come on in.”

Failing to find an excuse otherwise, Sean entered, and shook King’s offered hand. The man’s grip was firm and enthusiastic. “Thank you, Mr. King. I’m here to see Chrissy.”

“Call me Botch. Everyone else here does.” The man grinned. Sean returned the smile, weakly. It wasn’t as if he expected to see the Man in the White Suit to appear in the hall. As minions went, he suspected Botch was pretty low on the totem pole, and he knew from his experience with Evelyn that even the highest ranks weren’t necessarily BFFs with the devil who dressed like Colonel Sanders. They feared him for good reason. King wasn’t necessarily a “bad guy.” That still didn’t make Sean feel comfortable standing in the Kings’ spacious entryway.

“Chrissy will be down shortly. What are your plans for tonight?”

“I don’t really…” This wasn’t a date. Was it? Hattie thought it was. Did Botch King think it was? Did Chrissy think it was?

While Sean still stumbled over a potential answer, Botch said, “If you’d like to take my truck, maybe tonight would be a good night to go into town and see a movie or something. I’m sure they’ve got a later show. If you need money or anything…?”

“Dad!” Chrissy came down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a white blouse with short poofy sleeves. “We’re fine. Hi, Sean!”

“Hi!” Sean said, his voice coming out more enthusiastic than he had expected.

Botch rubbed the back of his neck. “I figured Chrissy might be getting a little stir crazy by now, cooped up here in Maple Bend. This could be a great chance for her—for both of you—to get away for a few hours.”

Chrissy answered, “Maybe we will later, Dad. Love you!” She gave him a peck on the cheek, and if Botch had anything more to say, he gave up.

“Good, uh, talking to you, Sean…” Botch said as they left, and then he smiled to himself as if he’d heard a joke.

Once outside, Chrissy said, “I’m sorry about that, Sean! My dad is the best, but sometimes he can be… well, like a dad, I guess. You know how it is.”

“I’m not sure I do,” Sean mumbled. If Chrissy heard, she didn’t say anything. He’d brooded enough on his father for one day. “So where are we going?”

“I want to show you something,” she said, beaming, leading him down the road from her home.

Sean glanced up at the overcast sky, now prematurely dark. “Is it far? Maybe we should take up your dad’s offer and drive. It looks like it will rain soon.”

“It’s not far. I don’t mind a little rain, if you don’t. It’ll cool things down.”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

After a few minutes, they turned off onto a barely-perceptible path. It was even harder to follow than the one up to Annabelle’s old house, which he’d gotten lost trying to follow in broad daylight. “Hey, are you sure about this? In the dark? Will we be able to find our way back?”

“Of course. I know the way.”

At least they were heading nowhere near the creek head and the crossroads, which the Coven no doubt had under constant surveillance. Sean followed Chrissy, who really did seem to know her way. Her loose blouse was not the sort of thing he expected a girl to wear into the woods, but the trees weren’t as dense this way as they were higher up the mountains.

“Does anyone live this way?”

Chrissy shook her head. “No. This is all our property along here. Daddy hasn’t developed on it yet. So why did you come to Maple Bend, anyway?”

Sean was jarred by this sudden change in conversation. “A research project.”

“For school?”

“Not exactly. I was just doing research on somebody.”

“Spying on them?”

“No. This person died a long time ago.”

“Oh! That’s kind of funny.”

“Why?”

“You’ll find out in a minute. Just follow me.”

Sean felt the first raindrop on his arm when they reached a hilltop clearing, filled with weeds and tall grass. Chrissy stopped, and pointed. At first, Sean saw nothing, but then grew aware of the very faint violet glow surrounding the field.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a graveyard. A very old graveyard. Nobody’s been buried here since the church was built, maybe before that. You can’t see ‘em through the weeds very well, but there are headstones and old grave markers there. I never could read most of them, but the ones I saw were all from the early nineteen-hundreds or earlier.”

“You’ve been here a lot?”

“When I was a kid, yeah.”

The glow around the graveyard was new. Sean had visited two graveyards on his search for Debbie’s true story, and never noticed anything like that. Then again, that was before he knew what to look for, and he had always gone in broad daylight. Regardless, this place looked and felt different.

He turned at the sound of a rustle in the grass behind him. A dog emerged, about ten feet away. The sunset glow was almost completely shrouded by the clouds, but from what he could see, the animal looked sickly and starved. His immediate twinge of compassion toward the beast died before he noticed the faint violet glare emerging from the creature’s eyes, dangling loosely from their sockets. Evil and malice emanated from the creature, so powerful that it was a physical force he didn’t need the Sight to perceive.

More creatures emerged, from every direction except the graveyard. One was in the shape of a person, a deformed child. All were misshapen caricatures of the form they emulated, and their eyes uniformly refused to sit properly in their sockets, twisting about on ropey stalks like long tongues or tentacles.

Sean grabbed Chrissy by the arm and backed away from the surrounding creatures. “Chrissy, there are things here!”

“Plat-eyes,” she said without a hint of surprise. “Nasty things.”

“You can see them? Aren’t you wearing the amulet?”

She shook her head. “Of course not. I don’t need it. My father had a witch give me a tattoo when I was no more than eleven or twelve to protect me from spirits. But I can still see them.”

Chrissy’s perkiness and lack of concern chilled him more than the appearance of the plat-eyes. Was she stupid, mind-controlled, or deliberately bringing him into danger? “Chrissy, what’s going on? Why did you bring me here?”

“You want to know why she brought you here?” a terrible, familiar voice asked behind them. Sean whirled to see the figure from his nightmares, wearing the dark suit and string tie. The ghost of Avery Thomas, the serial killer who continued to kill from beyond the grave, stood before him. The violet glow in the former preacher’s eyes didn’t provide illumination, but Sean had no problem seeing him in the darkness, silhouetted by the faint glow of the graveyard behind him.

“She is trying to save your sad, confused little life, Sean.” Avery smiled a tight, vicious grin. “But I reckon she’s wasting her time.”

Zeke escorted Vanya to buy supplies. Meanwhile, Jenny and Jack headed into an encampment just to the north of the town, outside the walls but still surrounded by earthworks, ditches, barriers, and other fortifications. Jack pointed them out, explaining what they all were. Jenny shook her head in amazement. “Where did you learn all of this?”

“Right here. Been helping build up the fortifications for a couple of weeks now.”

“Maybe you can become an engineer or something when you get home.”

Jack didn’t answer immediately. Finally, he said, “I don’t reckon there’s much call for that kind of thing. I mean, it’d be easier to dig a ditch with a backhoe.”

“So… are you not planning on coming home?”

Jack shrugged. “Some day, maybe. But I ain’t ready to go back just yet. There are lots of things to do here. You know, after we’ve won the war and everything.”

Jenny smiled. “Sure.” She was starting to come around to Jack’s way of thinking, herself. If they could get Hattie on this side, too, she’d have everyone here. Almost everyone. She didn’t want to have to choose between the two worlds.

Changing the subject, she asked, “So, I know we’re supposed to be allies and everything, but Lisbet and the Sheriff didn’t seem very happy to see me. Did I do something to piss her off?”

“I reckon we both did,” Jack said. “We came here. Her job is to prevent anything from crossing to Around the Bend, particularly Thadeus and his people. Our being here, on top of the Coven wiping out a whole base full of Wardens, means they weren’t doing their job and didn’t even know it. And the Sheriff… well, his town has now become a military encampment. So he’s not happy about anything these days.”

Jack stopped at a tent where a boy sat on wide log like a stool. Before Jack could say anything, the boy put his finger to his lips and mouthed the words, “She’s sleeping.”

Jack said quietly, “This is important, Owen.”

The boy scowled. He seemed barely out of puberty, an effect probably heightened by his clean shave and neat haircut. His expression was serious. “So is rest,” he whispered.

“Owen!” Jessabelle’s voice cried out from inside the tent. “If you are telling Jack to go away, I’m going to…” The flap whipped open, and Jenny’s dark-haired cousin stood in the opening dressed in local clothing. Her mouth dropped open as she saw Jenny, and she raced forward, nearly knocking Owen over as she tackled Jenny in an embrace, which Jenny returned with equal affection. It was as if they’d known each other their whole lives, not just the last few months.

“You were supposed to be sleeping, Jessabelle,” Owen grumbled.

“I done slept enough the last two weeks, and this can’t wait. I was hoping you’d show up, Jenny! How’s grandma?”

The three chatted for over an hour, telling stories of what had happened since they had parted ways. Jessabelle had heard Jack’s tale before, but listened attentively as he retold it while they sat in the grass. She’d been unconscious when they brought her to Dane’s Point, and had remained on the edge of life and death for three days. Her battle against Leon had reopened the bullet wound and given her fresh injuries. It was all Owen could do to keep her breathing at first. After regaining consciousness, she spent more time asleep than awake for much of the next week.

“I ain’t even changed shape since then. While that normally heals me a bit, Owen worries that in my current state, it might do more harm than good. He also says he’s better at healing people than critters, so it’s best if I stay human until I’m fully healed. Honestly though, ‘cept for bruising and aching around my shoulder, I’m feeling pretty good now.”

Jenny laughed. “You look good. When will you be back to normal?”

Jessabelle nodded her head in Owen’s direction. “Ask my doctor.”

Owen wisely said nothing at all, and pretended not to hear their conversation.

Turning to Jack, Jenny asked, “Are you still engaged to the princess, then?”

Jack shrugged. “We ain’t officially called it off yet. We’ve been busy.”

“But you are going to call it off.”

“I reckon so. Neither of us are ready to get married yet.”

“But you like her.”

Jack snorted and glanced at his feet. “Sure I do. But she’s a princess, and I’m an unemployed bum who just barely graduated from high school. Besides, we’re only engaged ‘cause an evil sorceress convinced the king to do it. It gave folks a reason to believe we were guilty.”

Jack didn’t lie, but he also didn’t volunteer information. There was clearly more to the story here. Jenny grinned, and asked, “Does she like you?”

Perhaps it was only the reflection of the sunlight, but his cheeks turned a fraction of a shade more pink. “I reckon she does. Some.” A ghost of a grin flickered across his face. “But again, that’s besides the point.”

“I don’t know, it sounds like the ending of a fairy tale to me. The earnest young man marries the beautiful princess, and they live happily ever after.”

Jack looked horrified, or perhaps terrified, for a moment, then grasped that Jenny was teasing him. He snorted again and shook his head. “This ain’t a fairy tale, that’s for sure. More folks are gonna get killed before this is done, and the good guys might not live happily ever after.”

Jessabelle looked serious. “Maybe so, maybe not. But at least it’s the three of us again, right? We do pretty good together, don’t we?”

“I can’t stay,” Jenny said. “We’re supposed to head back in the morning. We’ve got to get these supplies to Grandma Annie.”

Jessabelle’s face fell. Jack sighed and said, “Annie needs the supplies. If they get through the crossroads, then nothing we’re doing here matters.”

* * *

Lacking better options in a town full of troops, Vanya and Jenny stayed with Jessabelle and the Wardens just beyond the north wall. The three had an evening dinner in front of the tent, watching the sun dip below the western mountains.

As darkness fell, Vanya commented, “I never realized just how much of an army is not an army at all, but supplies. They’ve brought in an entire herd of cattle. Cattle! And half the town has already up and left. If Zeke hadn’t been helping me find sources, I wouldn’t have found anything for Annie. He thinks he can get the last items on her list by tomorrow. We can leave right after that. He wants us to be long gone before the fighting starts. While I hate to cut short this reunion, he’s right. Jessabelle, you are more than welcome to head back with us. You and Jack both.”

Jessabelle smiled and shook her head. “There’s no way Jack will leave, and if there’s any way I can help the Wardens stop the Queen, then I’m going to help them. Is that weird?”

“I wish I could blame you, child. But I can’t. I’d probably do the same thing. Anyway, I’m heading to bed. Sounds like you two have a lot to catch up on.”

“We won’t keep you up?” Jenny asked.

Vanya shook her head. “I’ll probably sleep better for the noise. I never did get used to having an empty house.” With that, she disappeared under the tent flap.

She hadn’t asked Jenny if she was going to come back with her. She didn’t need to. Jenny had a duty up in the mountains with Grandma Annie. It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. While she knew all this in her head, Jenny’s heart wanted to stay here with Jack and her cousin. The idea of leaving them in an actual, honest-to-goodness battlefield left her with a dark, cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. This thing, this war, was actually happening.

But not tonight. Tonight, she and her cousin had things to talk about and stories to tell. They could worry about the war tomorrow.

They talked quietly late into the night. The clear August night stayed warm, and they enjoyed the lightning bug display just beyond the tents. Around midnight, they finally retreated into the tent, finding their cots in the dark.

* * *

Jenny hadn’t begun to doze off when a light appeared in front of the tent. A hand slipped the flap an inch to the side, and Zeke’s voice said, “Jenny Morgan? Are you in there?”

“Yes,” Jenny said. Jessabelle sat bolt upright, and Vanya stirred.

“We need you right away. There’s been an accident.”

“What kind of accident?”

“The kind that Jack says you know how to fix. Please come with me.”

She struggled to throw on the clothes she’d shed as she’d gone to bed, and went outside to join Zeke. Jessabelle followed. She wouldn’t have gone back if Jenny asked, and Jenny felt better with her cousin beside her.

They made their way across the field, past the wall into the town. “So what happened?” Jenny asked.

“Commander Crane tried to break the enchantment on Arlan.”

“It didn’t work?”

“Worse!” Zeke said. “It was a booby-trap.”

“How?” Jessabelle and Jenny asked in unison.

“I don’t know. I don’t understand this sorcery and witchcraft stuff. Jack said you may be able to do something, and Captain Bachan said it was a matter of life and death.”

Zeke led them to the building where they’d interrupted the war council earlier. They found the room filled with the same people, plus Arlan bound in manacles, and an Asian woman similarly bound. Arlan’s eyes were wide with terror. Lisbet lay on the floor, her body spasming and eyelids fluttering. Tendrils of magic in the form of lightning encircled her, so brilliant with deadly power in Jenny’s Sight that she couldn’t believe it was invisible to everyone else in the room. Bachan knelt at her side, one hand on her shoulder, the other holding a knife near her throat.

Jenny knelt beside the Warden. “What’s happening?”

Jack knelt beside her. “We reckon Arlan’s enchantment was a trap. Taliel was probably hoping to get you or Annie, but figured Bachan would also have a witch try and remove it to save his nephew. As soon as she tried, it backfired.”

Lisbet’s body straightened, and she screamed. “No! I won’t tell you! I’ll die first!”

Jenny’s eyes widened. Bachan leveled his gaze at her, and said, “We believe the Queen—I mean, Taliel—has Commander Crane’s mind right now and is torturing her for information through some dark magic.”

The Asian woman said, “That’s my best guess. It’s theoretically possible, but I’ve never heard of anyone doing anything like this. Not even Mr. Longrave.” While the rest of the room looked helplessly on Lisbet’s face, this woman also observed the writhing bands of magical power surrounding the Warden. She, at least, also possessed some measure of the Sight.

“It certainly sounds like it,” Bachan says. “She is a Warden commander. Not only does she know about our defenses, allies, and composition, but she also bears a good deal of knowledge about the Wardens.”

Lisbet screamed again, straining against some distant agony.

“If she tells…”

Bachan said, “You just heard her. She would rather die first. Then we lose our most powerful battle-witch, and the highest ranking Warden in the region. Miss Morgan, Jack said you might be able to help. We don’t have much time.”

Jenny swallowed. “I’ll try.”

She looked to Jack. He pulled back a sleeve to expose his forearm, and gripped the handle of a fancy knife at his side. “Ready when you are.”

Delcina put her hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “One moment,” she said quietly, kneeling behind Jenny. “Commander Crane is very important, it’s true. But she does not know the location of the portal to the Darklands. You do.”

Jenny nodded.

Delcina now looked at Jack. “You understand, this information is more important than everything Lisbet knows. If this trap springs a second time…”

Jack’s eyes riveted on Jenny. Jenny nodded slowly. “It means that they’ll have to kill me before I spill the beans, right? Jack, don’t let them get over-eager. If anyone has them, I need bay leaves, juniper berries, and cloves.” She smiled at Jack in a way that she hoped was reassuring. “And the blood of a saint.” Half the room emptied as people rushed to find her ingredients. Meanwhile, Jenny recited her song of protection. The writhing arcs of power might not hurt Bachan, but she imagined them striking like snakes at the touch of another witch. The protection spell was by far her most powerful ability, and while it might not be much defense against magical strikes, she’d take whatever she could get.

In minutes, the members of the war council returned. Zeke had found dried, ground juniper berries and cloves at a local tavern. The sheriff arrived with a small bag of bay leaves. Jenny crushed them all in her right hand, reciting words heavy with tradition. She’d done this before. She’d made amulets of protection against spells. She’d removed Evelyn’s mind-control. She’d improved her technique with Annie’s training, and could even do a little bit without needing any ingredients at all. She could do this.

Last, Jack took the knife and barely touched it to his arm, letting the blood drop into the crushed mixture in Jenny’s hand. She didn’t need much. She clenched her fist, mashing the ingredients together, clumps of bloody powder squeezing between her fingers. With one final repetition of the verse, she opened her palm and slapped it on Lisbet’s forehead.

The lightning tentacles arced into her, burning the ingredients, heat piercing the protection over her hand. Lisbet screamed. Jenny held on. The room darkened.

Across the room, the hazy figure of a woman stared back at her, face a mask of fury and shadow. “Witch! Interloper! I see you through the battle-witch’s eyes. I feel you! I sense your mind. You are young and innocent. You are inexperienced. You will show me the path to the Darklands, or you will know pain like no other…”

The image faded. Jenny shuddered. It was over.

Bachan’s knife pointed at her chest. Jenny lifted her hand, smelling burned herbs and scorched flesh. Ash fell away, revealing a palm red and blistered. Lisbet was in worse shape, her forehead blackened with third degree burns. Her eyes were closed, but she still breathed. Her body no longer shook with spasms, and no magical threads of energy encircled her.

“That left a hell of a mark,” the Asian woman said.

“Summon Owen,” Bachan ordered.

Sean shivered, his body betraying him to fear. Neither the disgusting plat-eyes nor the preacher made a move.

Chrissy spoke. “I’m sorry, Sean. My daddy has been in debt to Mr. Longrave for as long as I remember, partly on account of me. Mr. Longrave told me if I did this, he’d no longer ask my daddy for any more favors, and that no harm would come to you so long as you cooperated.”

“By handing me to Avery?” Sean said, watching for the appearance of the phantom knife.

The false preacher’s shade continued to smile as the sprinkling of rain increased. “You got that right. The ol’ fart in the white suit made me a deal, too. I have to keep you alive, for the sake of that girl and her family. All I need to do is borrow your body for a couple of hours.”

“What?”

“You just take a nap and let me drive, and when you wake up I’ll be done. You’ll be safe and sound, and I promise to leave you alone forever. That pretty girl’s family is off the hook. Everybody wins.”

“Bullshit.”

Avery shrugged. “Or I just take your body by force, do the same thing, and I make no promises about whether or not you’ll ever wake up.”

“That ain’t the deal!” Chrissy protested, her Maple Bend accent returning full force.

“Relax. I think Sean is a smart kid. He can see reason. The outcome is the same either way, just what condition he’ll be in when we are done.”

Sean looked to either side. The plat-eyes had him surrounded on three sides, and Avery was on the other. Sean didn’t know what the plat-eyes could do, but they seemed physical enough rustling through the weeds. He knew exactly what Avery was capable of with his knife.

But Avery needed him alive this time, didn’t he?

“Get along home, girl. Make sure your folks see you safe and sound. Me ‘n the plat-eyes got it from here.”

“But you ain’t going to hurt him?”

“Not if we don’t got to. Now get!”

Even though she was supposed to be protected from the plat-eyes, she walked between them with wariness. Once past, she half-turned and called, “I’m sorry, Sean. I didn’t want to lie to you, but this really is the best for everyone. You’ll see, tomorrow.” Then she ran off into the darkness.

Avery leered. “Now, I ain’t never possessed anybody before. I’m told if you ain’t helpful, a healthy dose of pain might help. That way sounds more fun.”

If Sean had any doubts about his choice, Avery’s comment dissolved it. There was no way he’d willingly let that thing take control of him. He’d fight Avery every inch of the way. He might as well start now.

He charged the phantom, expecting to come into contact with a physical being ready to inflict the threatened pained. Sean swung at him as he charged through. His hand passed through air, but he felt something, like punching a hanging sheet. He staggered but kept running. Running uphill didn’t make much sense, but with Avery and the monsters behind him, it was the only direction to go.

He made it several steps before the monsters got him.

Something first grabbed him by the bottom of his pant leg. He kept running, dragging the creature, until something else slammed into him from behind. Claws and teeth grabbed at his legs and ankles, tearing at his clothing, and he pushed, crawling forward. He would fight every inch of the way. If nothing else, he’d die and Avery wouldn’t have him. Victory of a sort.

The plat-eyes were made of smoke and water and claws and teeth. Their mass wavered as he crawled on his hands and knees. Whatever was on his back slipped off, and he was left with claws tearing at his skin. With everything he had left he pulled himself forward, kicking at the semi-formed shapes ripping into him. His shoe came off, pulled away by the monsters, but with his foot free he gave himself one last push.

Everything came free. Unencumbered, he scrambled forward, awaiting the resurgence of the monsters. His arm stuck solid rock, pain shooting through him as powerfully as the dozen claw marks across his calves. It stopped his progress cold.

He dared to look over his shoulder, through the grass and weeds. Avery and six plat-eyes stared back at him, their images hazy through violet-blue bottle-glass. Avery, face inscrutable, calmly put his hands behind his back and stared through the glowing haze. The plat-eyes hissed and growled, spreading out and circling around the hilltop.

Sean crawled around an ancient headstone, but Avery and the monsters came no closer. He felt around his lower legs. His flesh was torn, but not as badly as the pain had suggested. At the very least, he was in no immediate danger of bleeding to death.

His mind reeled as he tried to make sense of the situation. The plat-eye monsters surrounded him, some far enough away that he could only glimpse the hint of violet light in their dangling eyeballs and empty eye sockets in the darkness. Every few seconds, one of them would rush at him, stop short of the barrier, and return to pacing the perimeter.

Avery nudged at the barrier with his toe. “Huh,” he muttered.

Sean managed a smile. “You can’t come through.”

“Not without your help, nope. Which you are going to give to me shortly.”

Sean shook his head. “No way.”

Avery smirked. “Oh, you don’t think so now. But nobody knows you are here, and hardly anyone even remembers this graveyard exists. You can shout for days without anyone hearing you. Things are going to get bad for you soon. You’ll be hurt, hungry, thirsty. Then you are going to realize that all you have to do is step right out here, and give me what I want. We’ll be done in a jiffy, and you’ll be able to go back home, relax, and never have to worry about me again. Won’t that be nice? Or you can suffer longer, try my patience, and I’ll be forced to go with my second choice. Or my third. You’ll have let people die for nothing.”

The fear gave way to anger. “What other choices? Why do you need me?”

Avery shrugged. “Just assume it’s personal.” He faded into the darkness without moving. For a moment, only his fiery eyes remained, and then they winked out.

Scanning the edge of the glow, Sean could detect no further sign of Avery and his fiends. The wind picked up, rustling through the weeds, and carrying with it the trace sound of a hiss from one of the plat-eyes.

“They ain’t gone yet,” a woman’s voice whispered behind him. Sean whirled about, and caught the hint of a violet form. “You are safe so long as you remain here. Our eternity doesn’t come to an end just yet.”

“Who are you?” Sean struggled to stand, but his injuries stung anew with the movement and touch of the weeds. He winced and backed away, his bare foot coming down on a sharp rock. Hissing, he dropped to his butt and checked the bottom of his foot.

In a blink, the figure appeared at his side, taking the form of a woman. Even in the dark, her features stood out clearly. In the darkness, it was hard to tell the color of her hair, or anything about her eyes but for the very faint violet glow within them.

“You just rest for now,” the voice spoke in his ear. The figure hadn’t moved her lips, but her hand moved to his arm and gently offered a reassuring squeeze. “You ain’t hurt too bad.”

Sean winced as he wiggled his foot. In spite of her assessment, it felt injured enough. “Who are you?”

“Call me Sophronia.”

“You are a ghost, right?”

“You may call me that.”

“What did you mean, your eternity doesn’t end just yet?”

“That harvester means to possess you. Once sheathed in your flesh, he could easily pass the blessin’ that keeps all of us in here and the likes of him and those demons out. He then would have taken us all, gobbled up the forces that hold us together like a big ol’ Sunday dinner, and walked right back out again. Your choice saved us all, at least for a while.”

“All? Who else is here?”

“Remnants, like me, who still linger here. Ghosts. Mostly them what was buried here, plus a few what have found sanctuary here afore being consumed by the land or evil spirits or become dark shades themselves. We ain’t many, but we are more than enough for a harvester.”

“Harvester? That’s what Avery is?”

The figure nodded. “Harvesters steal remnants of others, and take ‘em into their own selves. They get more powerful that way. Place like Blood Creek, full of sorrowful souls, a harvester can grow mighty indeed.”

“They… eat ghosts?”

She made a cold, hacking sound that could have been a chuckle. “Sort of. Remnants are just pieces of a person, bits fallen off a soul. Emotions, thoughts, memories. The stronger bits, they grow. Sometimes they become part of the land, part of the magic of a place. Sometimes, the magic binds the bits together to form a remnant. Sometimes both. The harvester takes all that. Devours it. Unravels the magic that binds a remnant together. Sometimes, it even takes some of those bits and pieces with it.”

Sean shuddered. “That’s what Avery does? It’s like murdering someone twice.” Sean peered out at the gloom, trying to focus on where Avery had been standing. He could almost make him out in the darkness, but the pain and the drop in adrenaline left him weak. “And he’s still out there?”

“Yeah, him and all them plat-eyes. They’re waiting for you to try and escape. They are resting up now, but they can wake up and pounce on you fast enough. You got the Sight, don’t you? Must be pretty strong. That’s both a blessing and a curse. It allows you to see and touch the world beyond, but it makes it easier for things to touch you, too.”

“I had an amulet that protected me.”

“Don’t pay it no mind. If the harvester has a fix on you now, you ain’t going to be able to hide from him again, not for long, even with a trinket like that. Not unless it was made by a witch way more powerful than Sophronia ever was.”

Sean closed his eyes. “So I’m trapped.”

“Just like the rest of us. Except you can’t bide your time like we can.”

“So what do I do?”

“Your only advantage is that you are still alive. I reckon you ought to keep doing that.”

* * *

The sprinkle turned to full-fledged rain and brought with it a surprising drop in temperature. Only three small trees grew in the graveyard, providing little shelter.

“This is perfect,” Sean muttered.

“It is,” Sophronia’s voice came to him. She’d helped him learn the boundaries of the graveyard, as if the flicker of alertness and semi-reappearance of the plat-eyes as he neared them hadn’t been enough. She’d even advised him on bandaging his leg. Most of the damage had been done on the surface. The phantom creatures had inflicted far more pain than actual injury, for which he was grateful, especially now that the pain had deadened into a dull collection of stings.

Sean glanced in a random direction. If he really looked for her, he could see her, but right now she wasn’t trying to be seen. “You’re not being sarcastic, are you?”

“No. You got anything to collect the rainwater? You will get thirsty in the days to come.”

“What? No. I’m not going to be here that long.”

“How will you escape?”

“Someone will come around looking for me tomorrow.”

“Then they’re gonna fall prey to the harvester and the plat-eyes instead of you. Even in the sunlight or in the rainfall, they ain’t safe. And if they have the Sight, the harvester might possess them, and use them to take us all.”

“Oh.” Sean lowered his head, feeling the raindrops hitting the back of his neck. “Shit.”

“Yep.”

“So he needs to possess someone with the Sight?”

“I ain’t an expert. But yes, spirits that possess the living gotta work through the living. That might make ‘em stronger or weaker. You, I s’pect he’d be much stronger.”

“Aside from being alive, what can I do? Can I do anything to protect myself? Make a magical circle or something?”

After a pause, Sophronia answered. “I reckon I could teach you over time. I… or Sophronia… had an ability like yours. Strong Sight, and she could have sent the harvester and most of his minions packing by now. But strong with spirits ain’t so strong against the living. She weren’t strong enough of a witch to stop Colette from murdering her.”

“Wait… Colette?” The name sounded familiar. “Was she… she was the one who had the daughter? With the Man in the White Suit?”

“Yes. A terrible mistake.”

He shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why do you keep talking about yourself in the third person? Like it was somebody else?”

“It was. I ain’t really Sophronia. I hope her soul’s gone up to heaven, now. At least not the other place. Like I said, I’m a remnant. Like a photograph, or an old letter. I’m just what remains.”

“But you remember what she knew?”

“Some of it. I ain’t a match for the harvester.”

“Could you teach me?”

“Yes. You are alive, and you got the Sight, so you got more power than anything I have. And potentially more than he’ll ever have.”

“Great. Why don’t we do that?”

“Because it ain’t something you master in one night, at least not enough to take on the harvester and his dogs. You’ll die here long before that.”

With her hand covered in a magical healing salve and bandages, Jenny felt almost normal. Exhausted, but normal. She dozed against the wall in the council room in spite of the constant chatter and movement. Against the opposite wall, Lisbet sat with a similar bandage around her head. She’d regained consciousness minutes ago, and had immediately spoken quietly with Bachan. She caught Jenny’s eye, and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

A drop of perspiration slid down Jenny’s face. She considered whether or not it was worth stirring herself to wipe it away. Between the August night, all the people in the room coming and going, and the lantern flames, the room was stiflingly warm. She drifted in a half-sleep, edging more towards unconsciousness and the lazy decision to let the drop evaporate of its own accord, when Jessabelle plopped down on the floor next to her.

“I overheard Bachan talking to the others,” Jessabelle said conspiratorially.

“Are you spying?” Jenny asked, still trying to hold on to the tiny bits of foggy-headedness that felt so comfortable right now.

“They ain’t kicked me out, so I reckon I’m welcome and it ain’t spying.”

“Okay,” Jenny said. Her interest was piqued. She let the foggy-headed feeling drift away. She was awake now.

“Min was right. Taliel was magically torturing Lisbet for information. Taliel made some threats and said some things. Lisbet thinks that the siege on the castle has been broken, and that Taliel’s army is already on the way here.”

“How soon?”

“She doesn’t know. Bachan thinks the good guys would have arrived by now if Taliel’s army was close. So we probably have a couple of days.”

Jenny closed her eyes. “All these people, here to protect Grandma Annie and the crossroads.”

Jessabelle rested her head on Jenny’s shoulder. “It ain’t just that, cuz. If Taliel gets through, then it’s all over for Around the Bend, too. Taliel may be strong enough to heal the Man in the White Suit; he’ll be ten times more powerful than he is now. Worse, he’ll be able to go through the crossroads again. Then we’ll have both of ‘em to worry about.”

What were their chances? Jenny tried to imagine herself and Annie trying to hold off an army marching on their little shack and didn’t like the mental picture. Hopefully it would not even come close to that. She let her mind wander to something nicer.

Jenny snorted. “Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“I think the first day of school is in a couple of weeks. We might miss it.”

Jessabelle snickered and recited an imaginary note. “Dear Principal Henderson: Please excuse Jessabelle’s absence. She was fighting a war to save the world.”

“Think it will work?”

“With Principal Henderson? Nope.”

* * *

In the distance, bells clanged.

Jenny opened her eyes. It was still dark outside the one window. If she’d fallen asleep, it couldn’t have been for more than a minute or two. She couldn’t see a trace of dawn, so wouldn’t the bells wake people up?

Of course they would. That was the point. It was an emergency.

Jessabelle stood, already alert. “What’s going on?” she asked.

Bachan shook his head. “I don’t know. You stay here. Your Highness, you should stay, too. Jack?”

“I’m with them,” Jack said, drawing a sword from the scabbard at his side.

Bachan nodded, and strode out the door into the night. One of the guards outside the door closed it.

Lisbet stood, immediately grabbing at the side of a table for balance. The Asian woman and Arlan, still fettered in manacles, looked at each other. Jack, Delcina, Jessabelle, and Jenny were the only others in the room. Jenny stood, amused at how seven people in the chamber seemed like such a small crowd now.

“Where’s Owen?” Jessabelle asked.

“Your healer boyfriend?” the woman in manacles asked. “He left a few minutes ago. He said something about having to prepare for incoming casualties.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

The woman smiled. She liked pushing buttons, Jenny deduced. She undoubtedly deserved to be a prisoner. “Why are you here?” Jenny asked.

“Me? I’m a witch. They take great care of their witches around here, haven’t you noticed?”

Jenny scowled at her. The woman smiled charmingly back, before saying, “I’m Min. I’m formerly with the Coven.”

“Jessabelle told me about you. Formerly?”

Min held up wrists. The manacles resembled handcuffs, but the cuffs had solid metal bars between them rather than linked chains. “Now, I’m just a useful nobody. The Coven gave me one last chance to redeem myself, and I screwed that one up. Now—well, you remember what they say about the enemy of my enemy?”

“They’ll stab you in the back first chance they get?” Jessabelle interjected.

Min sighed. “We may not be on exactly the same team, but we’re in the same boat.”

“So whose team are you on, then?” Jack asked, joining the conversation.

Dropping her arms, Min said, “My own. No one else will have me.”

Gunshots roared, nowhere near as distant as Jenny hoped. Men shouted, cried out… and screamed. Something terrible was coming closer.

Jack slid his knife from its sheath and passed it to Delcina. The princess positioned herself beside Jack. Jenny was unfamiliar with the stance, but recognized the practiced martial arts technique. The girl had been taught to fight. Jack had clearly been practicing with the sword since he left Hobbfield, too.

Jenny struggled to remember some of the arm-locks she’d trained for a lifetime ago. Hadn’t she been nearly ready to demonstrate them for a belt test?

Outside the door, shouts mixed with the sound of a horrible ululating war-cry. Someone screamed. Something heavy struck the wall. The sounds of struggle ceased, and then a tremendous force shattered the door inward.

Glistening with sweat and blood, a creature that resembled the devil himself filled the doorway. It stood on giant toes that ended with fierce talons, dead guards at its feet. Most of the creature’s body looked like an exceptionally hirsute and muscle-bound man, but its head was that of a goat, with huge sickle-like horns and eyes that glowed red in the lamplight. In one hand, it held a huge double-bladed axe that must have weighed twenty pounds, streaked with blood and adorned with tiny bits of flesh clinging to the side of the blade and the handle. It howled with the same inhuman ululation, and charged inside, axe swinging with astounding speed for something so big and heavy.

Jack was the first target. He dodged and reeled backwards. The axe-blade upended and shattered the table beside him. A lamp smashed to the floor, oil and flame spreading in a pool. Jessabelle transformed in the space between heartbeats, pouncing into an attack and deftly swooping beneath the monster’s back-swing.

Jack and Delcina retreated and circled around the room, stepping over the growing lamp-oil pool. Jenny readied a protective song, but there were so many people to protect and the goat-man attacked so swiftly it was impossible to predict who might need it next.

Lisbet chanted some kind of spell of her own. The creature turned to look at her, and flicked a decidedly un-goat-like forked tongue. Jenny was already moving before it struck the battle-witch. There was no time to do anything but interpose herself between the goat-man and Lisbet, taking the full hit. The axe struck Jenny’s magical shield with a flash of blue-white light. Predatory intelligence gleamed in the monster’s eyes as it once again howled, striking her three more times so quickly she couldn’t follow the movement of the axe-head. The protection flashed, weakening. Jenny fell on the fourth blow, the force of the axe-head hammering into her chest through the last of her protection, knocking the breath out of her, and sending her reeling.

Lisbet finished her spell, and electric-blue light flew from her fingers and struck the goat-man’s eyes. It flailed around in the air for a few seconds, clawing at its eyes with its free hand, the magic that blinded it pulsing fiercely in Jenny’s Sight. Suddenly it stopped, issuing a noise like a bleating scream. It spun in place, blood spraying across the room. Staggering and grasping at something on its back, the goat-man lurched through the growing oil fire and collapsed, still flailing and smearing burning oil everywhere.

Just behind where it had been, Delcina stood with Jack’s fancy dagger in her hand. Blood smeared her hands and arms, and her eyes flashed with ferocity. She no longer resembled a regal figure, but a terrifying warrior.

When Jack managed to use his gaping mouth again, he said, “Holy shit, Del! Nice shot!”

* * *

Soldiers and citizens formed a bucket brigade to save the rest of the house and neighboring buildings, but the section of the building that had been used as headquarters for the council was lost. Jenny wanted to help, but the bruise across her ribs discouraged her from moving, or even taking deep breaths.

The other survivors, even the two prisoners, sat in the relatively comfortable front room of the mayor’s house. The mayor’s wife did all she could to make certain they were comfortable, in spite of her family frantically packing their valuables. The mayor had pledged to remain in Dane’s Point throughout the conflict, but the commencement of bloodshed had caused him to reconsider his position. They would be miles away before dawn.

“Six of those goat-men came through, slaughtering anyone standing in their way but not stopping to engage.” Bachan explained to the exhausted group. “In the end, that probably helped us. We could have lost many more people had the monsters not been hurrying past. All six were heading for the headquarters. I’m sorry one got through.”

“They followed Taliel’s spell,” Lisbet said, glancing at Arlan. “Or at least what was left of it. It took all of us to fight it off. If one more had come through, they would have slaughtered everyone in the room.”

“That would have put an end to our resistance in one stroke,” Delcina said. The mayor’s family had provided her with a change of clothes, but bits of blood still streaked her hair. “It is only through luck that we haven’t had our leadership crippled.”

“I don’t get it. How did they get here from the castle so fast?” Jack asked.

“They didn’t,” Lisbet answered. “They were probably waiting in the forest for Taliel’s signal. Only a witch or the like could set off that trap. Arlan could have succeeded, and she would have known exactly where to find the gateway. If it had been the mountain witch or Jenny, and Taliel would have obtained the information she needed, and destroyed a dangerous foe in the process. And finally, whether she succeeded or not, she had shock troops that would go in and destroy anyone close—quite likely our leadership.” She glared at Arlan. “Most of those scenarios would have ended with your death, too.”

Arlan stiffened. “In war, soldiers’ lives are sacrificed for the safety and security of the nation. I learned that from my uncle.”

Bachan’s voice was ice-cold. “Taliel is not your nation, Arlan. She murdered my king, my friends, and took over the throne. She is the daughter of Hothlurian, one of the most treacherous and dangerous people ever to have walked the world.”

“I don’t believe that, Uncle. These two are the murderers.” He motioned with his head towards Delcina and Jack. “They are the murderers. The evidence was incontrovertible.”

“Do you think I would be capable of such things? Do you think I could be complicit in Ferik’s murder and lie to you about it? Have you changed that much?”

Arlan said nothing. Bachan motioned to his aide. “Zeke, take him back to the jail. The witch, too. We have planning to do that shouldn’t be heard by ears sympathetic to the enemy.”

Min stood. “I’m not your enemy,” she said, her eyes on Jessabelle. It was a statement, not a protest.

“We shall see,” Bachan said. “I thank you for your assistance with the enchantment. I do not believe the accident was your fault.”

Min shrugged, and let herself be guided behind Arlan out of the building. Once they were gone, he looked around the room to make certain no one else could hear them. “Just as the goat-men attacked, a courier arrived. Taliel received reinforcements and broke the siege. Our forces are retreating to Dane’s Point. They could be here as early as tomorrow evening, with Taliel’s army close behind.”

The rain drenched him. The air chilled him. Two hours into his captivity, Sean wasn’t sure who infuriated him more, Avery or Sophronia.

“Teach me more,” he demanded.

“You ain’t in no condition…”

“I’m not getting any better by waiting. I learn fast. Daylight: Ghosts get weaker in the daylight?”

“Yes. But they ain’t powerless by no means. Sunlight drains them. Us.”

“So why shouldn’t I make a run for it at dawn?”

“They’ll catch you before you get ten steps away. Weaker, yes, powerless, no.”

The rain fell off-and-on for three hours. Sean shivered as the clouds parted to admit light from the moon and stars. He looked up from where he sat huddled on a stone that served as someone’s grave marker. Figures surrounded him, shadows hovering over the glistening moonlit field. At first he thought they were the plat-eyes, and had somehow found their way into the graveyard, and his back stiffened with alarm. However, they made no move toward him.

“You are the other spirits here, aren’t you?” he said out loud. “The ones buried here?”

“Some are,” Sophronia’s voice answered. “Most are just remnants of souls that came here for sanctuary. Even before the harvester arrived, they sensed this place and its safety.”

“I don’t suppose any of them are named Debra.”

Sophronia didn’t answer. Sean took that as a no. His shivering stopped as his skin dried. Any other time, he’d consider this a comfortable summer night, a cool respite from the heat. He leaned up against the lone tree in the graveyard. He couldn’t sleep, but he felt himself doze and his mind wandered several years back.

He was fourteen. His mother slept in the master bedroom. Sean and his stepsister, Lacy, took care of her most evenings after the hospice nurse left. Sean’s stepfather found any number of excuses to come home later and later every night from work, often smelling of alcohol. Sean brought his school books into the master bedroom, sat at the small, old mahogany desk with his books. Schoolwork helped him not think of his mother dying in the bed beside him.

He’d been dozing for the last hour, waiting for his father’s arrival. Somewhere in his half-sleep, he grew aware that his mother’s ragged breathing had stopped. He turned, terrified of what he knew he would find.

Instead, she stood beside the bed in the darkness, staring at him.

“Mom? You’re up!”

She nodded. “I am now.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“I am, for now.”

They embraced. Through her nightgown and robe, she felt more solid, more physical, than she had in the last six weeks. She kissed him on his cheek. “I need your help, Sean. We don’t have much time.”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“I need your help writing some emails. Can you do that for me?”

His memories were muddled at that point. He remembered watching her in the darkened office next to the bedroom. The monitor illuminated her face as she wrote email after email. He couldn’t understand how he’d helped. But he also had a distinct memory of sitting at the desk himself, typing faster than he’d ever typed before, as his mother quietly dictated.

He awoke before dawn, tucked into his own bed, to the sound of his father on the telephone. Even before he entered the room, he knew his mother was gone. Later, the coroner explained that she’d died quietly hours before, which made no sense. He told his father that she’d been up, looking almost healthy again, but there was no evidence she’d been out of her bed. In the emotional fatigue of that day, he relented, and determined that the entire event had been a dream—a wish from a grief-stricken boy as his mother quietly passed.

He’d nearly forgotten about it all until the funeral. Many of the attendees spoke of the sometimes very personal emails they’d received from Sean’s mother the night she died. Under the circumstances they all seemed content to chalk it up to an unexplained mystery or minor miracle. Over the next year, the topic would occasionally get brought up again, before being quietly forgotten. The general assumption was the most mundane—she had pre-written the emails, and she, or someone else, had triggered their release when her death was imminent.

While it didn’t explain everything, especially Sean’s dream, he’d forgotten about it as well in his haste to graduate early and get out of the house. His relationship with his father had deteriorated without his mother’s peacekeeping, and all he could focus on was how soon he could get out of the house forever.

* * *

A brief sprinkling of rain irritated Sean back into full wakefulness. He glanced up at the cloudless night sky. A breeze shook leftover droplets from the leaves onto him. He stood, and paced along the borders of his magical jail, hoping to clear his head and warm himself up. As he walked, he caught glimpses of shadows outside the barrier following his movements.

If he’d stared into his mother’s eyes that night, would he have detected the faint gleam of violet? Would anything have been different if he had? Why had she said she needed his help? What really happened that night? Why were his flashes of memories so confusing?

He needed more information. He was cold, wet, miserable, and by any reasonable measure, screwed. Anyone who found him or attempted to rescue him might be equally screwed. Clenching his fists, he stared at the darkness beyond the barrier. After a moment, he spotted the two pinpricks of light staring back at him, one dangling several inches below the other, and gradually made out the form of the malformed shadow.

Sean slowly raised his hand, inches away from the barrier, and extended his middle finger at the beast.

A grin of determination broke out on his face. Just this summer, he’d been in worse situations, facing far more immediate peril. He just hadn’t faced them completely alone before. However, he wasn’t truly by himself, was he?

He turned away from the barrier, and strode to the middle of the graveyard. “Sophronia, are you still here?”

“I ain’t leavin’,” her voice floated back to him.

“Can Av… can the harvester or the plat-eyes hear us?”

“No. Not unless you shout, or you address him. Against them dark spirits, even the old dedications on this graveyard are like the walls of a castle.”

“And they are weaker in the day?”

“We all are. The sun is for the living. We spirits ain’t housed in living flesh no more. The sun don’t hurt us, but we ain’t at our best.”

“You said you could teach me what you used to be able to do. Let’s start.”

“There ain’t time.”

“You’re right, there isn’t, so teach me what you can in the time we’ve got. I’m a really good student. First off, what happens when a spirit possesses someone?”

“You don’t want to know about it.”

“There’s a spirit out there that wants to do it to me the second I step outside that barrier. You’d better believe I want to know exactly what that’s about. If I don’t stop him, he’s going to do that to me, or to your great-something granddaughter Hattie, or someone else, and then he’s coming here for all of you. Tell me what I need to know.”

Sophronia’s form coalesced in front of him. “A spirit takes control of someone’s body, like it was their own. Most of the time the original spirit is still there, still seeing and feeling, and fighting to take control back.”

Sean rubbed his arm with his hand, trying to generate warmth with the friction. At least once the sun came up, it would warm up. “The harvester wanted me to allow him to possess me,” he said, avoiding Avery’s name. “Was that so he wouldn’t have to fight me?”

“That’s my recollection. A spirit fighting for control is always fighting. The home spirit is always stronger in the long run. But a willing host, that’s another story. It wouldn’t have to spend the whole time fighting.”

“So they’d be at full power.”

“Something like that, I s’pose.”

Sean switched arms. “You said most of the time the original spirit is still there. What else can happen?”

“There are stories of spirits kicking the owner out of their own body completely, and the thief steals it like it is their own. There ain’t no spirit I know of who can do that by themselves, but powerful witches can. This is what I thought—what I hoped—happened to Colette when she took up with the devil in the white suit.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“No. I don’t reckon so, anyhow. My dear Colette had become corrupted. Much as I wanted to believe otherwise, it was my own daughter that murdered me. Us. Sophronia.”

“Have you ever possessed anyone?”

“Of course not.”

“But what if… If one spirit is already possessing someone, could that prevent others from doing the same?”

“Maybe it would, but ain’t you heard of that story of the boy possessed by a legion of devils?”

“Oh. I guess I have.” He checked his watch. It was still two hours before dawn, by his best guess. “Sophronia, we don’t have much time, but I do have an idea. It is not a good one, but I don’t see any other option. I’ll need your help.”

* * *

The glow of dawn over the eastern mountains promised a brilliant new day. As color began to return to the world, and with the red-hued sky behind him, Sean stepped over the threshold of the graveyard to confront Avery. The preacher appeared, materializing in the dim light, backed by the army of plat-eyes in their forms as disgusting animal parodies.

The thin smile on Avery’s lips was human, but the violet glow in his eyes was anything but. “Well, well. I see the night in the rain has brought you to your senses after all,” he said.

“Mayhap it did, but not in the way y’all thought,” Sean said. It was his voice, but not his words.

Avery seemed to sense it as well. His smile dropped. The plat-eyes stirred behind him, wheezing their renditions of growls.

The sound was terrifying, but Sean was beyond terror now. Instead, he sang. The words were unfamiliar and hard to understand even as he struggled to recognize the shapes his own mouth made. He recognized the words cradle and warm, but more important was the feeling that rose up from somewhere deep within him. Expecting a surge of power, he instead felt calm, assured, and as warm as mid-afternoon.

The plat-eyes fled, launching their twisted animal bodies away from him before disappearing in black smoke. Avery floated away from him, saying, “Good trick” before disappearing somewhere in the darkness.

Sean’s knees buckled, and he flailed to avoid toppling over as Sophronia passed control of his body back to him. When he regained his balance and his strength, he said, “Thank you” to the empty morning.

“That was dangerous. I didn’t reckon it would work,” Sophronia’s voice said. Her spirit, faint and weakened after that exertion of power, floated back through barrier inside the graveyard.

“If you didn’t think it would work, why did you agree to it?”

“You said yourself we didn’t have any better choices. Now, you better run off and find that amulet. It ain’t going to protect you as much as it did before, but it will help should that harvester come back looking for you. He looks like the kind to bear a grudge.”

“He is.”

“If the devil in the white suit finds out why he ain’t banging through the crossroads later this week with all the power of us graveyard spirits, he’s likely to bear you a grudge, too.”

Sean sighed and nodded. “It’s not like I haven’t given him cause already.”

“I suspect there’s more to it than that, Sean. There’s much more to you than Spirit Sight. You got strength and potential, even more than I… than Sophronia… ever had. I imagine the devil and the harvester both sense it, and they want to control it, or destroy it. Especially now that you’ve proven to be a threat.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “What? Are you suggesting Avery wasn’t being completely honest in his promise to let me go when he’s done? I’m shocked.”

The image of Sophronia shimmered. “Here’s one more lesson. It ain’t wise to be rude and sarcastic to ghosts, boy. Now git!”

They finished loading Vanya’s cart just as the survivors from the siege force arrived. A surprising number of women were among the soldiers, all looking exhausted in the noonday sun. Most were dressed in a variant of three different uniforms, but almost half wore no uniforms beyond blue armbands. Their armament varied from rifles to spears, and almost everything in between.

Then there were the carts. At first, Jenny thought they were all carrying supplies. But the ones in the rear, far too many, carried people. They might have all still been alive when they were put in the carts.

The soldiers not in need of immediate medical attention took a position outside the walls, in front of the defensive fortifications, for processing. The others—and there were too many others—filled the medical tent and the field behind it.

Zeke looked over the last of the supplies as another cart, drawn by two horses, pulled up behind Vanya’s. One soldier drove the cart, which was filled with barrels and boxes. Seven other soldiers walked alongside it.

Zeke grinned. “Your escorts to Hobbfield. Nobody will be stupid enough to attack you on the return trip.”

Vanya arched an eyebrow. “I don’t mind the protection, but aren’t they needed here?”

His grin fell. “That’s not the only reason they are coming with you. We need a garrison in Hobbfield. We can protect against an invasion, but they’ll be there in case the enemy decides to send another scouting party over the mountains.”

“Can’t they just send their army over the mountains?” Jenny asked.

“We’ve got scouts, too. If they tried, we can meet them when they are most vulnerable and disorganized. That, and there are some pretty fierce monsters to deal with going through that territory with a group that big. If they hit a nest of ogres, they could lose an awful lot of people.”

This is what war looks like, Jenny thought. Casualties, garrisons, peaceful communities disrupted. It seemed unreal, which was saying something after doing battle against goat-men the night before.

“That’s the best we’re going to be able to do,” Zeke told them. “At least for the time being.”

Vanya nodded, mounting the driver’s bench. Jenny hesitated and asked, “How close is the other army?”

“We don’t know how close Taliel’s army is yet. At least a few hours. They’d be stupid if they attacked immediately after that march. We probably have a day or two. Plenty of time.”

“Would I be able to help? I can heal.”

Zeke sighed. “I won’t lie. We can always use another healer. I heard what you did last night. But would that make a difference in the long run? Probably not. We’re either ready to meet the enemy, or we’re not. Besides, you know important information. If you got captured and they got that information out of you…”

Jenny lowered her head. “I understand.”

“It’s been good meeting you, Jenny Morgan.”

“You too, Ezekiel.”

“Call me Zeke.”

She smiled and climbed onto the bench beside Vanya, who urged the two horses forward. Jenny looked over her shoulder at the arriving soldiers.

“For what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision,” Vanya said as they slowly moved along the road out of town. “Your grandma will need you up there.”

“Maybe. If it gets bad.” This wasn’t her fight, Jenny reminded herself. This wasn’t even her world. She didn’t know these soldiers.

However, she knew Jack and Jessabelle. The Man in the White Suit had made this her fight. While there was a chance Grandma Annie might need her later, the soldiers fighting to protect her Grandma needed her right now.

“I have to stay.” Jenny moved to the end of the bench, and Vanya slowed the horses. Jenny dropped to the ground. “Tell Grandma I’m sorry. But I can’t leave them.”

“Jenny, this is about to become a battlefield.”

“Yes, and Jack and my cousin will be in the middle of it.”

“Your grandma…”

“My grandma has taken care of herself for years. I would never forgive myself if Jack or Jessabelle got seriously hurt. What if I hadn’t been here last night?”

Vanya sighed. “Okay, then. I wouldn’t force you to come even if I could. Are you absolutely sure?”

Jenny nodded. “I need to stay.”

Vanya nodded. “Good enough. I just need to be able to look Annie square in the eye and tell her I tried to talk you out of it.”

Jenny smiled. “You did. Be careful.”

“And you be even more careful. I’ll see you when all this is over.”

“Count on it.” Jenny turned and walked back to where the wounded soldiers were arriving, hoping Vanya could not hear her heart pounding in fear.

* * *

The “walls” of the huge medical canopy tent were a fine mesh netting that allowed the air to flow. Every cot under the canopy was occupied, and more soldiers rested on bedrolls between the cots, and in a shady area on the grass. Even in the open air with a slight breeze, the smell of alcohol, blood, herbs, and other biological fumes assaulted her, and in spite of the netting, a number of flies had made their way into the area. Jenny pushed back her revulsion, and fought an urge to flee.

Several people attended the injured, both inside and outside the tent. A little girl brought water in a bucket with a ladle for men to drink, while an older woman poured something alcoholic into tin cups for those with more severe injuries. Neither seemed revolted by the sights and smells of the tent, and Jenny mentally chastised herself for being so squeamish.

Owen stood beside one of the cots, talking quietly with one of the wounded soldiers. Jenny approached and stood nearby, waiting for them to complete their conversation. Owen gave the soldier’s arm a reassuring squeeze, and turned to Jenny. “I thought you’d left.”

“Not yet. I wondered if I can help out. My aunt taught me, um, healing… uh, healing magic?”

“Really? You are a healer too?”

“I’m not great at it. But yeah.”

He nodded. “I can use all the help I can get. I’m the only one. Those with the least injuries are outside.” He pointed through the netting, and then turned back to the wounded soldier.

That seemed to be all the instruction Jenny would get. She looked at the aisle of cots on the other side. It seemed as though the far corner was where those with the worst injuries had been located. None of them seemed conscious. She approached a figure whose head was completely wrapped in gooey gauze, with splints holding open space for his nose and mouth. When she touched his shoulder, he did not react in any way.

She imagined if this was Jack, or one of her family. Someone she cared about. And why shouldn’t she care about this soldier? Even if it wasn’t the reason he chose to fight, he was still defending her family, and her home. For that matter, her whole world might be at stake. He was one person who had taken a stand.

Fixing those feelings in her heart, she began the song Hattie had taught her.

Fever a-falling, bones are a-mending

Itching and ailing relieve you

Blood run pure, skin mend up, limbs regain strength

Sickness shall no more aggrieve you

Attuned as she’d become to witchcraft, she felt as well as saw the spell take hold. The world started to sway around her, something she hadn’t experienced since she left Maple Bend, and never from a single spell. The force was overwhelming, and she felt weakened as a flash of blue-white light flowed into the soldier in front of her.

Lacking anything solid to hold onto, she dropped to her knees beside him, waiting for the dizziness to go away. She didn’t see an immediate reaction in the man, but that wasn’t surprising. She focused on her breathing, in spite of the stink of the place, trying to stabilize herself. Owen stared at her with his mouth agape. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as she thought she was, and had embarrassed herself in front of him. Well, she could deal with being embarrassed. That was okay.

As the world righted itself, she stood. It took much more effort than she expected. She would have to take a breather before moving onto the next patient.

The man with the gauze-covered face began screaming.

Owen and two of the women rushed to the cot. “What did you do?” one of the women demanded. Jenny shook her head and backed away. The man on the cot only stopped screaming long enough to catch another breath, and began anew. Every conscious patient who could move stared.

“I’m sorry,” Jenny said, backing away. Owen ignored her. The older woman distributing alcohol cast her a dirty look. Jenny staggered away from the screaming man, her eyes blurring with tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt him…” She turned and staggered toward the exit, her legs still weak and ropey. She bumped into a cot by accident, and the man there hissed in sudden pain. “I’m sorry!” she repeated, finally making her way to the opening in the netting.

Her legs couldn’t carry her much further, but she managed to get behind a building out of line of sight from the medical tent and collapsed against the wall, letting the tears flow. The distant screaming came to an end.

Perhaps twenty minutes later, when her eyes and nose had dried and the screams replayed only in her memory, a figure came around the corner and stood by her. Jenny looked up, and recognized Lisbet Crane—Commander Crane.

“Owen told me what happened,” Lisbet said, her voice cold.

“I’m sorry. I tried to heal him.”

Lisbet sighed, her face softening with some measure of compassion. “I’m not much of a healer. I leave that to Owen. But I remember being taught that it was possible to ‘heal someone to death.’ The shock and pain of the body suddenly knitting itself together can be more traumatic than the original injury.”

“Is he dead?”

“No, luckily. Owen acted quickly, and the nurses administered drugs to him. Your spell actually healed away the drugs already in his system as if they were poison. To be fair, they didn’t expect Callan to live past sundown. If he survives this healing shock, he’s no longer in danger.”

Jenny exhaled. “So he is healing. Why didn’t they think he’d live? Didn’t Owen heal him?”

“No.” Lisbet’s face hardened again. “I understand you are a village witch. You don’t understand what a combat healer has to do. You don’t have unlimited power. We’ve got a new battle in a matter of hours, and the healers’ priority is to stabilize who they can, and to get the men and women capable of fighting back on the line. A good healer can help a dozen soldiers like that in a day. Owen is an exceptional one, and can help a score or more. You took a man at death’s door, and made it so he’ll probably be able to walk out under his own steam tomorrow, but he’s unlikely to be in any condition to fight. That’s incredible for a village witch, and I won’t fault you for what you did. But in combat, it often comes down to cold, hard numbers.”

Tears came anew. “I’m sorry.”

“No apology necessary. Not to anyone. Certainly not to Callan. Or to Owen, for that matter. He’s well-trained, but he’s young and inexperienced. Like you.”

Wiping her eyes, Jenny asked, “So have you been in combat a lot? How do you make those kinds of decisions?”

Lisbet shook her head, softening her expression again. “No, not much in earnest, not as a commander. It’s a bitter business, and in spite of training, we’re all learning it anew. Look, I don’t have much time. I’m seeing you as a favor to Jessabelle, but we have a lot of lives on the line and many preparations to make. Have you spent all your magic?”

“Huh?”

“Are you capable of doing any more today? Jessabelle tells me you are good at making healing potions and protective amulets.”

Jenny nodded. “A little. In a couple of hours I’m sure I’ll be better.”

“If there’s time later, that would be somewhat helpful. But right now, I have an immediate need for someone with the Sight.”

Jenny wiped her eyes one more time and nodded. “Okay. What do I do?”

“Can you stand?”

Jenny stood. Her legs had recovered their strength, and the world was staying in one place.

Lisbet said, “Good. I need you to search for more booby-traps, like the one you found on Arlan.”

Sean stumbled into Hattie’s double-wide, somewhat warmer but exhausted on every level. Hattie, standing at the stove stirring a pot of oatmeal, didn’t even look at him as she said, “It ain’t my place to judge, Sean, but I hope you know what you are doing.”

“I don’t,” he said. “Not even close.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We talkin’ about the same thing?” She turned to look at him, and her face filled with concern. “What happened?”

“It was a trap. Chrissy was working with Avery’s ghost. She took my amulet and they trapped me in an old graveyard. Your great-great grandmother’s ghost helped me escape.” He leaned against the counter. “I’m going to get a shower and get to bed. And then I’m going to find out how I can kill Avery.”

She stood expressionless, a chunk of oatmeal dripping on the stove top from the long-handled wooden spoon. She shook her head. “Even growing up with mama and Amy in the house, I don’t think we had conversations half as crazy as the ones we’ve had this summer. I reckon I ought to get used to it. Tell you what. Let’s talk over breakfast, before you hit the hay, and I’ll see if I can help you with that last part while you are napping.”

Sean took a hot shower, which was too quick to really ease the ache of the cold night in the rain. Then, over oatmeal and a shot-glass of Hattie’s “healing juice,” he related the entire story.

At the conclusion, Hattie said, “I think maybe I ought to ask Bella to make me an amulet, too, when she’s done with yours. And one for anyone else who has the Sight.”

Sean shrugged. “You can have the one she’s making for me. I’m tired of hiding. I want to do what Sophronia could do. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“I wish I knew what to tell you, Sean,” Hattie said, lacing her fingers together on the table. “I really do. This is… I just don’t know. Of course, I’d heard my grandma mention Sophronia a few times, and mama warned me about Colette and the Man in the White Suit. But to think her ghost is out in some forgotten graveyard on Botch’s property this whole time…”

“Can you help me?”

“I can try and get in touch with people. And I can tell you something you probably already figured out on your own by now.”

“I’m a witch?”

She nodded and shrugged. “It ain’t as common in men, but clearly you got some kind of knack for it. You’ve got Spirit-Sight maybe as good as my mama. Maybe we can see if Bella can start teaching you. She’s the closest thing to an expert on spirits around here, and she might know how to deal with Avery. I can see about contacting some other people, but we’ve got to be careful.”

“Because of Avery?”

“Because of the Coven. They are here, now, even if we don’t know who they are. They’re watching us. Bella and I, we’re mostly beneath their notice. Unless we get in their way, I s’pose. But if you got real potential, they may snatch you just the way they snatched Jessabelle.”

“But if I do nothing, Avery may use me to get through the crossroads. And then probably kill me.”

Hattie stood and picked up the dishes. “I got one idea. You may not like it.”

He stood as well. It was much harder than he expected. “Try me.”

Putting the dishes in the sink, she said, “I know a woman who might be able to help. She knows more about spirits than Bella, and she’s a more powerful witch than I am. Maybe she’d be willing to teach you.”

Did every witch have some kind of inferiority complex compared to others? Was there some hierarchy? It seemed strange that these women who could do such amazing things would feel inadequate. Still, he needed to learn. Quickly. “Great! Where is she?”

“Oregon. You’d have to go to her. Take a year or two and learn, out where it’s a lot safer than here.”

Sean shook his head. “You’re right.”

“You’ll go?”

“No. You’re right, I don’t like it. My friends are on the other side of that crossroads, and people are willing to kill to open it back up.”

Putting her hands on her hips and scowling, Hattie said, “And what can you do that will make the difference if you stay?”

“I don’t know yet. But would you leave?”

“This is my home.”

“I don’t have a home.”

She sighed. “Okay. You get some rest, and I’ll see what I can do in the meantime. Quietly. Maybe we’ll both have some better ideas when you wake up.”

* * *

In the tiny bedroom with the drapes drawn over the full light of morning, it took Sean longer than he expected to fall asleep. The covers warmed him, and every part of him ached for rest. But the events of the night played out in his mind, over and over again. Was there any way he could have known that Chrissy would betray him? Could there have been a better way to escape? Would he wake up to the ghost of Avery plunging a knife into his chest? Was Avery’s plan real, and did Thadeus himself put him up to it? Was there a way a ghost could travel through the crossroads if they pushed hard enough?

Eventually, the endless loop of worries dissolved into sleep. His chaotic dreams were filled with animals with eyes dangling out of their sockets, ancient grave markers, and rain. He awoke briefly a few times, but fell back asleep in seconds.

Then he dreamed of Debbie.

She sat with his mother in the living room at his father’s house. He heard them talking, and caught glimpses of them through the doorway, but whenever he tried to get near them, he’d find himself walking into a different room. Their chatter made little sense to him, talking about things like toothbrushes and tea kettles. He grew increasingly frustrated as he got lost, or got distracted trying to join them.

Finally, he just stood at the doorway and listened.

“We can make him do it,” his mother said.

“It won’t work if we do,” Debbie replied. Somehow he knew they were talking about him.

“Do what?” he called, but they acted as if they didn’t hear him.

“He isn’t strong enough,” his mother said.

“I’m strong enough!” he called back to them.

“It’s too late,” Debbie admitted.

“It’s too bad,” his mother agreed.

“I’m right here!” Sean called, waving through the doorway. If he stepped through, just like the other times, he’d find himself in another room and would have to search for a way back.

“I see you,” Avery’s voice said from behind him. Sean whirled in time to see Avery float through him, and through the doorway into the living room. “You gotta learn to float, you see? You have to float to get through the door.”

“Why, hello Avery,” his mother said, beaming at the new guest. Debbie smiled and waved. “What brings you here?”

“I’ve come for dinner!” Avery said, looking over his shoulder at Sean with a malicious grin.

Sean tried to yell at the top of his lungs, but it only came out as a whisper. “Mom! Debbie! Run! He’s going to eat you!”

They didn’t hear him, but continued to talk pleasantly. Avery laughed, and with every laugh, his mouth grew larger. After a few minutes, his mouth was large enough to devour both women in a single bite. Still, he just laughed, and at each of Sean’s impotent cries he laughed harder, and his mouth grew wider.

He couldn’t stop Avery. He turned and ran from the house, seeking help. In the distance, he saw the Maple Bend church. There was help there, he knew, some key to stop Avery if he could get there on time.

* * *

Sean awoke in a sweat, too warm and confused by sleeping in the middle of the afternoon. The chill of the night’s crisis was long gone, but the coldness in his gut from the dream remained. He hadn’t dreamed about his mom in a long time. Debbie, on the other hand, had haunted his sleep far more than she’d haunted reality. He took a moment to let his emotions die down, and analyzed the dream.

Obviously, Avery’s power horrified him. Debbie haunted her hometown as well as Morgantown, and thus was potentially threatened by Avery—so obviously he worried about her. His mother’s appearance puzzled him, but could probably be explained by his surprising encounter with his father. Intellectually, this explanation satisfied him. His gut held on to its conflicting opinion.

The part about the church confused him. Even awake, the emotion, his desperation to seek aid in the church, remained with him. Rationally, an easy interpretation of the dream would suggest his subconsciousness driving him to seek religion. However, that didn’t match the feel of the dream. It wasn’t salvation or protection or really anything good that he expected to find in the church. There was simply something there that he needed to learn.

After washing his face and attempting to tame his bed-head hair, he dressed in jeans and a golf shirt. Since he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning, faint, scratchy, fuzz covered his lower face. He left it alone. It wasn’t like he was planning on going out on a date this evening. He’d never actually had a successful one, and the girls he’d been alone with had proven to be either dead or trying to get him killed. His track record sucked.

Hattie wasn’t home, and her truck was gone. The sun was still high in the sky, and Sean had some more research to do. He locked the door to the house as he left, even though Hattie rarely did so herself. While wary of the very real threat of the strangers in Maple Bend, she still forgot.

After a short walk to the church, he circled around to the preacher’s tiny house opposite the dirt parking lot. The preacher’s ancient Volkswagen Golf sat on the gravel between the church and the house with its hood open. Preacher Harris leaned over the engine block, a toolbox beside him, working a socket wrench.

“Having problems with your car?” Sean asked.

The white-haired preacher raised his head. His clothes were grubby and stained with much older stains than the new splotches of grease. “Hello there, Sean. No, nothing big, just maintenance. Trying to keep this thing running is a job by itself. What brings you down here today?”

“I wanted to see if you could let me into the church.”

“Anybody who needs to use it can do so. May I ask why?”

Guilt gnawed where previously Sean’d felt only a cold stone. “I just have some things I have to think about.”

The preacher nodded. “May I ask a favor? Can you hold a flashlight for me? The sun is on the wrong side for a bolt I need to get at.”

“Sure thing, Mr.—I mean, Preacher Harris.”

“You can call me Everett if you like.” He handed Sean the flashlight.

“Okay. Actually, I would like to talk to you, if that’s okay.”

“Certainly. What’s on your mind?”

“Ghosts.”

“This again?”

“Again?”

“Your friend, Jennifer Morgan, tried to convince me the church was haunted.”

“Did she succeed?”

Harris laughed for a moment, but the laughter died as he saw Sean was not sharing the joke. After a short pause, he said, “Are you asking me as a minister for doctrinal information?”

Sean considered for a moment. “No. I’ve never been very interested in religion. You’ve been in this town for a while. You’ve seen what’s happened lately. I want to know what you really think.”

“Oh. I don’t think you want to know what I think, but if you shine that light a little further back, I’ll see if I can answer your questions as best as I can.”

While the preacher replaced a belt on the engine, Sean pointed the beam of the flashlight into the depths of the block shadowed from the sun. “So what did Jenny say about the ghost in the church?”

The preacher shrugged. “I have to admit, she surprised me. I don’t have a good explanation for it. Here’s the thing: There are truths we can have faith in, truths which we can hold onto for comfort and guidance. You can call it religion if you want. The trick of it is learning to apply it in the complexities of the real world. The last few weeks have gotten pretty complex even for me, and I have a degree in this. I can tell you all about heaven and hell, but I can’t tell you what you saw up there on the Casto’s farm, or explain to you what Jenny could do or what she claimed to see in the church. What I do feel confident telling you is that it’s dangerous to go digging too hard for answers.”

“What if it’s too late for that?”

“What do you mean?”

Sean let the flashlight stray as he formulated his response. At a grunt from Harris, he moved it back. “I mean, have you heard of a preacher named Avery Thomas from… I guess it was the 1980s?”

Harris snorted. “I lived in Charleston at the time, and even I heard about it. Unfortunately, he was killed, so the police will never know how many people he murdered. They say at least six.”

“Did they ever find out who killed him?”

“Not as I recall.”

“What about his M.O.? How he chose his victims?”

Harris stopped his work and looked at Sean. “You know, there’s a place called a ‘library’ where these things can be discovered. Why are you asking me? Because he called himself a preacher?”

“No. Because his spirit is still out there. It is very dangerous, and it is very interested in me. I want to end it. I’d hoped that since the afterlife is big part of your trade, you might have some ideas how.”

Harris stopped working, staring down into the engine. After a pause of several seconds, he resumed his work, the ratchet-wrench clicking away. “I don’t believe in ghosts, Mr. Williams.”

“But…”

“Let me finish. I don’t believe in ghosts. They have no part of our doctrine, and I don’t know what I’d think about them if I did believe in them. However, I did not believe in giants or dragons either until a few weeks ago. So I’m willing to keep an open mind on this matter. Still, I don’t know anything that can help you.”

“Will you let me into the church for a while?”

“Do you promise to treat it with respect?”

“Of course.”

“Go. I’m about done here.” He reached into his pocket and fished out some keys. “Bring these back to me when you are done. The big ones will unlock the front doors. I didn’t used to leave them locked, but… well, lately.”

Sean took the keys and returned the flashlight. “Thanks.”

“Just remember. This is a house of God. Treat it as such.”

If Dane’s Point had seemed crowded when Jenny arrived, the new forces completely overwhelmed the town. The new army was at least three times larger than the entire force that had been there yesterday. The staggering number of wounded now seemed mercifully smaller than it could have been, representing only a tiny percentage of the total.

Lisbet caught Jenny’s look, and nodded. “They held northern Sanguine for several days, including most of the river ways. That, and the northern roads, let us control critical logistics channels. Then Taliel’s reinforcements arrived, outnumbering our forces by three to one. We’re expecting some significant help from the Wardens, but that is at least two weeks away.”

None of this made any sense to Jenny. She just took in the number of soldiers. There were thousands. “How are we going to feed them all?”

“That’s what I meant by logistics channels. We have supplies coming down from the Citadel, but it’s nowhere near enough. Not if this campaign lasts more than a few weeks.”

They made their way through a number of people until they found a man in elaborate armor made of what looked like scales from a very large animal. When the man finished giving instructions to a pair of well-armored soldiers, he turned to face Jenny and Lisbet.

“Commander Crane! Good to see you again!” The corners of his mouth turned up a minimal amount, perhaps the closest he could come to a smile. He was almost completely bald, his remaining gray hair cut short. The left side of his face bore a significant bruise.

“General Paff. I wish it could have been under more pleasant circumstances. You called for me?”

“Let’s win this and enjoy more pleasant circumstances soon. Yes, I called. I have need of a battle-witch. Is this your assistant?”

Lisbet nodded. “Jenny Morgan. She’s from… Jack’s country.”

“Let’s hope she shares Jack’s skill in giant slaying, because we could use two of him. Taliel has a giant among her reinforcements, and a number of battle-witches. I think they cursed us on our way out. Our two battle-witches were killed in the fighting, so I need you to go through the men and find out if any of them are bewitched.”

“All of them? That’s over six-thousand troops.”

“Seven thousand two hundred fifteen able-bodied, plus the one-hundred ninety-three at the medical tent, unless we’ve had more die in the last two hours.

“That’s going to take a while. I know you have a number of critical duties to attend to. However, we must make sure the battle-witches haven’t sabotaged us through our own men. Can your assistant handle this?”

“I believe so.”

Jenny stared at Lisbet wide-eyed, but Lisbet paid her no attention.

“Good. Then she’d better get started. Thank you, Crane. Let me know if you need any other resources, especially to escort supplies from the Citadel. I’ll tell Lieutenant Hopkins at the perimeter to watch for you. I want everyone accounted for.”

He turned to another officer, apparently signifying the conversation was over. Jenny walked alongside Lisbet, scanning the masses of soldiers.

“I’m sorry about this,” Lisbet said. “But he’s right. We don’t want a repeat of anything like what happened with Arlan. If you see anyone with any kind of enchantment, no matter what their explanation, separate them and don’t do anything until I get there.”

“So is he your boss? A, um, commanding officer or something?”

“Paff? No. He’s with the Sanguine military forces. I’m a Warden, which is an international force. He’s not even over Bachan. But for all our experience, Bachan is still more of an expert security guard, and I’m just a highly-trained jailer. Paff knows how to fight a war, and we need his expertise. He may come off a bit arrogant and short on patience, and perhaps he is, but he is going up against his colleagues and friends right now.”

After scrunching her lips to the side for a moment, Jenny said, “He knows that Taliel is really after the crossroads, right?”

“She can’t do a proper search until she controls the region around Hobbfield. We’re stopping her from doing that. Paff knows this. If he didn’t believe she was Lilah, he wouldn’t be fighting on our side.” Lisbet stopped to look over the army occupying the fields in front of the town. “I’ll come by later this evening to help you, when my other duties are complete. I’m sorry. I wish we had some other people with The Sight to help, but you, Owen, and I are the only witches here.”

“What about that one lady? Min? Could she be trusted?”

Lisbet thought for a moment. “Maybe. If supervised and under a very watchful eye. And I know just the person for that.”

“I didn’t just volunteer Jessabelle, did I?”

Lisbet laughed. “Owen cleared her, albeit reluctantly. She’s in excellent shape for a girl who was a hair’s breadth from dying twice just over a fortnight ago. I’d trust no one to watch Min more carefully than her.”

* * *

While anxious to get started in hopes of finishing before nightfall, it took the military two hours to set up a checkpoint and arrange everyone into two groups for inspection. Min, released from her cell, worked with officers on one side. Jessabelle posed as her assistant.

An officer named Lieutenant Harrick handled the inspection, with an aide writing information down in a ledger, while Jenny silently looked over each soldier with her Sight. She overheard bits and pieces of conversation. Mostly, they grumbled about the food and the long march. Surprisingly little discussion revolved around their previous battle.

She had a few momentary breaks in processing the soldiers in which she took stock of the area outside the front gate of the town. Farmers’ fields filled the valley on either side of the road until it disappeared around a rising slope. Some of the forest had been recently cut along the bend, giving a clearer view into the distance. Fortifications had been constructed on either side of the road, right through the fields, consisting of low earthen walls with trenches on the side opposite the town. The barriers were capped with wood and stone, providing good cover for defenders on one side, but not effective for anyone on the other side. On the barriers nearest her, she caught glints of afternoon sunlight on what looked like the black, rough bottom of cast iron pans. Jenny intended to ask someone what those were for, but never had the chance.

After several hours, she had seen the tell-tale electric blue glow of magic four times, sending four confused soldiers out of the line without explanation to be watched over by guards until Lisbet could investigate them. In at least three of the cases, the glow centered from an item, some protective charm in their possession. As the sunlight faded, she found herself imagining a blue glow where there was none. Twice, Harrick asked if she needed to take a break, but she didn’t have the heart. The men and women at the end of the line were even more exhausted than she was, and they couldn’t get settled for the evening until she and Min had finished with them all.

It was dark by the time they got to the end of the line. Several yards away, Min finished with her last group, and chatted with Lieutenant Harrick’s counterpart on her side of the checkpoint. Harrick’s voice had grown hoarse, but he still spoke with vigor and seemingly boundless energy. A group of four men approached their table. Jenny lowered her head and rubbed her eyes.

“Name and unit?” Harrick asked.

“Donald Arnott, Pelview Militia,” the man said. Jenny’s ears perked up at the last name. It sounded similar to Debra Arnot, Annie’s childhood friend, a ghost that had lured Sean Williams to Maple Bend. She’d seen the ghostly woman twice. Could it be possible that they were related through someone who had gone through the crossroads a century ago? Jenny lowered her hand and looked up and immediately sucked in her breath.

The speaker and the three men behind him seemed lit by a weird, lavender light. It was faint, and faded even as Jenny stared. She clenched her eyes shut and shook her head, looking again to make certain it wasn’t her imagination.

The four men looked pale in the lamplight, clothes dirty from the march, but there was no sign of the glow. Like many of the stragglers, they didn’t have a particular uniform beyond a blue armband, but over their shoulders they carried nicer rifles than Jenny had seen all day. Harrick glanced at Jenny. “Are you okay, ma’am?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “Sure. I’m fine.”

Harrick let his gaze linger a moment longer than necessary, clearly suspicious of her answer, before turning back to the soldiers. “Are you all from Pelview Militia?”

The man nodded. “Yes, sir. Have any others come through yet?”

“Maybe in the other line…”

Jenny stood. “Can you excuse me for just a moment?”

Harrick stood as well, his momentary look of confusion masked behind his quiet confidence. “Of course, Miss Morgan.”

“I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Harrick continued to ask Donald questions as Jenny hastened across the road to the other group. The lieutenant at the other table was in the middle of explaining what the various insignia on his uniform were to Min, who listened with rapt attention. Jessabelle’s face looked like she’d just bitten into a particularly sour lemon. All three turned to Jenny as she approached. “Min, can you please help me out?”

Min raised her eyebrows, but stood. The officer stood with her. “I’ll be right back,” she said with a sweet smile at the young man. He was doomed. While Jenny had seen nothing at all of magic from Min, she knew the poor man was falling under her spell nonetheless. Jenny wasn’t sure whether to report Min, or to ask her for pointers.

They walked into the road, and Min asked, “So what’s up?”

“Do you see anything weird about those four men?”

The last of the four men stared at them. Min shrugged. “Aside from being creepy? No. Why? Is your spider-sense failing you?”

“Maybe,” Jenny said with an honesty that surprised her. Min was someone she didn’t want to show vulnerability around, but she was too exhausted to care.

Jessabelle spoke. “There’s definitely something off about ‘em, but I don’t know what. I ain’t about to change in front of everyone to get a better whiff.”

“It’s your call,” Min said, “but my advice would be, ‘when in doubt, pull them out’. Send the problem up the chain of command.”

“Right. Duh. Thanks.”

“I’m here to help you, Jenny.”

Jessabelle snorted.

Jenny returned to the table. Harrick raised an eyebrow at her. “I, uh, I think Commander Crane would like to speak with these men,” she said.

“All four?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Gentlemen, if you’d kindly go with Sergeant Bradford, we’d like to introduce you to Commander Crane.”

“Huh? Are we in trouble?” Donald asked.

“Not at all. This will just take a few minutes, and then we’ll make sure you get food and cots.”

The men accompanied a sergeant to now-deserted farmhouse they’d turned into a holding area. When they were out of earshot, Harrick turned to Jenny and said, “I’ll send a runner to the Commander. You look like you should get some food and rest yourself, ma’am.”

“I will. Just make sure the commander knows about those four. They are… strange.”

“I’ll include that in my message. Good evening, Miss Morgan.”

Two armed escorts arrived to accompany Min. They didn’t come with shackles, this time. Before leaving with them, she turned to Jenny and asked, “So what were we looking for tonight, anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think they are just worried about a repeat of last night.”

Min shrugged. “They should be. There are a lot of people here who…” She hesitated, glancing at the guards. “…Who know what the queen is really after. A big military campaign is just a distraction. A shortcut obtained through spies would save a lot of time and lives.”

Jessabelle narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

Min rolled her eyes. “I’m giving you a warning… not everyone who you think is on your side might understand that.”

“You aren’t on our side!”

“No. I’m reminding you I’m not against you, either.”

“Since when?”

“Since the Coven sent me through that portal with a bunch of commandos under orders to shoot me dead if I didn’t keep Leon under their control.”

Jessabelle didn’t say anything to that. Jenny didn’t know what to say, either. Min glanced at her two escorts and said, “Take me back to my prison, boys. At least I have a cot to sleep on tonight.”

* * *

Jenny insisted on accompanying Min to the jail, and Jessabelle insisted on being with Jenny. The jail was lit by a single lantern, smelling of burning lantern oil, straw, and boiled potatoes. Arlan seemed almost pleased to see them. The lone guard, on the other hand, frowned.

Min grinned at the guard, and sashayed into her cell as if it were the Presidential Suite at a five-star hotel, gliding into a spin and landing gracefully on her cot. The two soldiers who had escorted her nodded to the guard and took their leave.

“Frederick, I’d like dinner now. I’m starved.”

The guard made a face. “The meal was an hour ago. You missed it.”

Min tsked. “Come now, Frederick. I was directly assisting Commander Crane and General Paff today. I’d hate to have to explain to them that my ability to continue rendering such assistance has been hindered by poor treatment. And I do remember Commander Crane giving strict orders that I was to be treated as, I quote, ‘an honored guest.’”

Jessabelle came to the guard’s defense. “You are still a prisoner.”

The guard took his time locking Min’s cell, and rattled the door several times to make sure it was secure. To Jessabelle, he said, “Watch her until I get back,” and left the jail.

Arlan sighed. “So do you believe them, Min?”

Min shrugged, dropping her performance. “It won’t make a difference what I believe.”

“Believe what?” Jenny asked.

Min said, “About Taliel. After last night’s surprises, Arlan has doubts that he has been on the right side. I’ve been trying to convince him that it doesn’t matter which side we’re on. People like us don’t win wars, we just survive them. That’s easier if you are on the winning side.”

“Duty and honor mean nothing to you?” Arlan asked.

“They don’t mean much when your cause is lost and you aren’t anything more than plant food.”

Arlan shook his head. “I grew up hearing tales of the ancient Wardens. I considered joining them, because I could think of no greater cause than protecting ourselves against Hothlurian’s return. My uncle talked me out of it because he believed their role was only ceremonial and that the evil one was never coming back. I wanted to be someplace where I could make a difference, like you said. Now I learn I am numbered among the Wardens’ enemies.”

“I told you that,” Jenny said. Arlan cast his eyes down, and seemed deflated. She immediately regretted her comment, no matter how much he deserved it. “Look, I’m here because I think we can make a difference. I think I did. You did, too, Min. We can win.”

Min rolled her eyes. “Wow. I guess naiveté runs in your family. You, your… You and Jessabelle both.”

“Kiss my what, Min?” Jessabelle responded.

“Okay, let’s think this through,” Min said. “Let’s say you do win the battle. Big deal. If Taliel is the daughter of Hoth-who-you-may-call-him, all you’ve done is slow her down. And yes, Arlan, based on what I’ve seen and heard on both sides of the crossroads, I’m convinced she is. Sooner or later, she’s going to find the portal and get through. Then dear daddy Thadeus… your big evil bad guy here… is free to come and go as he pleases, and has all his power back. You’ve lost.”

“The Wardens shut the crossroads down before, so they can do it again,” Jessabelle said.

“Do they still know how? Besides, that new crossroads has been there for a long time. Thadeus has been growing it for generations. Why is he only going after it now? My guess is that he waited until it was too big and powerful for someone to seal it shut again. So really, they win if they score a single goal against you. How good is your defense?”

The guard returned, carrying a tin bowl with some kind of stew that didn’t smell half bad. Jenny said, “We’ll find a way to stop her. And stop him. Forever.”

Min snorted. “I’d love a miracle, too. I don’t think there’s a witch alive who can do that, but good luck staying alive while you try.”

The chapel of the tiny church showed its age under the glare of the harsh artificial lights mingled with the afternoon sun. The building might be a hundred years old, and it hadn’t undergone major renovation in decades. While clean and maintained as well as a paltry budget would allow, years of wear and tear on the pews and floors couldn’t be concealed when the building was empty. Somehow, the combined light also made it seem more intimate. Sean closed the main doors behind him, and walked along the aisle to take a seat in a middle pew.

He was alone. Thinking that the ghost would just be standing there, ready to answer his questions, had been a silly idea. At least according to Hattie, Esther showed up only when she wasn’t wanted.

“Esther?” Sean asked out loud, but not too loudly. He wanted to be respectful, after all. No one answered. He tried again, a little louder, and then once more. Perhaps the third time might usually be the charm, but the ghost who haunted the local church was having none of it. Not tonight.

His watch said it was only 5:00 p.m.. He still had several hours before dark, even here in the mountains. Would Avery attack him in a church? Was the home of the faithful any deterrent to the fallen preacher? He doubted it would be as much protection as the various charms and protections Hattie used on her house. And nowhere near the protection his amulet used to give him.

Why was he trying to contact another spirit, anyway? Hadn’t he had more than enough of them out in the graveyard last night? Esther wasn’t extra credit. He had no idea why his subconscious had hit upon the image of the church, but if it harbored any clues, he couldn’t see them. Perhaps it was only a dream, not his subconscious trying to tell him anything.

If Esther held any answers, she wasn’t bothering to share them with Sean. After a few minutes, he stood and walked around the chapel some more. Somehow he’d had a vision of churches being more grandiose. Perhaps those were the only ones shown on television. This was a humble country church, in all its glory… or lack thereof.

A door near the front of the chapel, on the right-hand wall, stood open. It led to a set of wooden stairs heading down into a basement. Sean followed the stairs down, ducking as they made a right-hand turn to avoid a beam set just below his height.

The stairs came to an end in a room below the chapel. Sean fumbled along the wall until he found the light switch. At the bottom of the stairs was an L-shaped room with carpeting over a concrete floor. To his right stood a plastic table and a stack of six very small chairs. On the other side, a window set high on the wall would let sunlight in during the mornings. Further in, a shelf against one wall held crayons, blank paper, and books with illustrated Bible stories. An open door led to a windowless room further in.

Sean crossed the room and through the doorway. While large enough to hold a dozen adults comfortably, the room served as storage, filled with folded metal chairs, stacks of posters, and cardboard boxes. In spite of the light filtering in from the children’s Sunday School room, it was hard to make out details in the gloom, especially as a sense of unease rose along his back. He pulled on the chain attached to the ceiling-mounted light socket. The bare incandescent bulb flickered like an old neon light before turning on and illuminating the room.

Sean turned to see a fully-bearded man in an old-fashioned suit standing by the door. At first, Sean took him to be some kind of cardboard decoration, like the posters: two-dimensional and faded. But part of the man was translucent, particularly around his middle and his eyes, like he had been painted on Plexiglas years ago with parts rubbed almost clean. Where his eyes, and the top half of his face, should have been, two faint violet pastel smears of color glimmered in the dusty light.

* * *

After Sean was able to breathe again, and noted that the old man made no threatening actions toward him, he asked, “Who are you?” His words came out as a gasp.

The figure looked slowly left and right. “Wie is aan het praten?”

Sean didn’t recognize the words, but they sounded vaguely German to his ears. “Do you speak English?” he asked more loudly this time.

“English? You speak?” The spectral figure leaned forward, his body drifting or elongating toward Sean. “We spreken samen in het Engels. Ja? We speak English? You? Me?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

It took the man several seconds to respond, as if he were waiting for Sean’s words to be translated. He spoke hesitantly, slowly, and his voice rose and fell in volume like someone talking over a bad phone connection. “I am called Leendert.”

“Do you live here?” Sean immediately regretted his phrasing. “I mean, is this where you… stay?”

“Stay? Yes. I stay here. Is quiet.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Long?”

“Yes. When did you come here?”

“I come here… sixteen years old.” His gaze passed over the room, as if seeing it for the first time. “We come here, I twenty-three. We come, six families. Settle. We remember old ways. We find the door.”

“The door? Was there a house already here?”

“No. Door to new land.”

The crossroads? “Is that why you settled here?”

“We settle first. Good land. Strong spirit. Then the devil came.”

“The devil?”

The man’s face gained more definition, the violet glimmer gaining more definition where his eyes should have been. He covered his face with a forearm, and muttered, “Laat me niet herinneren.” When he dropped his arm a moment later, he seemed completely opaque and three-dimensional. “A devil. Wears face of a man. Acts like friend, but he want the door. He tell us to leave. I know old ways, I think I make door go away. The devil, he gets so angry.”

“Thadeus. We call him the Man in the White Suit.”

The man wasn’t hearing Sean anymore. The violet glow blazed in his eyes as he recalled his story. It didn’t feel like a good thing. Sean backed away.

“Furious. That is word. Furious. The devil become furious. Say he brings doorway back. He… hurt us. Kill us. Every one. Women. Children. He kill everyone but me. He hurts me. He make me watch. He hurt me, and he trap us here. This land, it make us furious, just like him. All those hurt, all those dead. The land drinks them, traps them!”

“You made the door go away? How did you do that?”

“All for naught! The devil spared none!” Now the figure’s fingers blazed, and his arms stretched across the room towards Sean’s throat.

Remembering how Sophronia’s magic had felt, he tried to imitate that feeling. He pushed, willing the enraged ghost away. Willing himself protected as if by the amulet. Willing…

Whatever Sophronia had done, Sean couldn’t reproduce it. The thing grasped him around his throat, icy hands choking at him, clawing at him. Sean coughed, swinging pointlessly against the freakishly long arms, but he could feel little more than icy cold air as he windmilled and tried to escape. Gasping, feeling his neck freeze under Leendert’s grasp, Sean charged toward the ghost, toward the open doorway, his only chance for escape.

“The devil let none escape! This is hell! He make this hell!” Leendert howled as the icy fingers finally removed themselves. Sean stumbled up the stairs, hitting the top of his head on the low beam as he turned the corner. He saw flashes of sparks, and lost his balance for an instant, flattening his hand against the wall to give him some stability.

Beneath him, Leendert wailed, a horrible sound that shook the foundations of the church, and made the light fixtures rattle. Surely everyone for a mile around would hear the noise!

Sean stumbled out of the stairwell into the chapel, tripping over one pew in his haste to get out the door. Preacher Harris stood in the vestibule, his mouth open wide as Sean staggered down the aisle. Grasping Sean’s arm, he half-guided, half-pushed Sean out through the front doors into the evening’s daylight. Behind them, one more wail of anguish shook the windows, not quite as loud as before, but every bit as chilling.

A woman’s voice, faint and spectral, came from behind him. “You stupid cuss. Why did you go and wake him up? You done doomed us all!”

“What did you do to the church? Was there an explosion?” Harris demanded a few minutes later as he helped Sean sit down on a couch in the tiny living room.

Sean’s head still felt dizzy and useless. “Explosion? No. I just talked to the old man in the basement.”

“What old man? What are you talking about?”

“Leendert.”

“Why was there someone hiding in the church? Did he cause the explosion? It rattled my house’s windows!”

“There wasn’t an explosion. I tried talking to him. No matter what I said, he got more angry. He tried to strangle me.”

“In the church?”

“In the storage room.”

“What were you doing in the storage room? Never mind. The utility closet is back there, too. Were the furnace or hot water heater damaged?”

“Damaged how?”

“From the explosion.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “There wasn’t an explosion! I pissed off a ghost. That’s all.”

With a completely straight face, Harris asked, “Do you do that a lot?”

“It kind of looks that way. Maybe.” Sean found himself laughing in spite of his ebbing fear. Or perhaps because of it. Maybe he really was going insane. “Esther didn’t sound too happy with me either.”

Harris collapsed with a sigh on the threadbare love seat beside Sean’s chair. Shaking his head, he said, “I really don’t want to believe you, Sean. This is all uncharted territory for me, but I can’t dismiss it. Especially not in light of the things we’ve seen and experienced the last few weeks. Forgive me if it takes a little bit for me to get my head wrapped around everything.”

“That would be you and me both, sir.”

Harris nodded, and stood up. “Did you at least find what you were looking for?”

Sean shook his head, and stood up as well, hiding his unsteadiness. “No. I don’t think so. I think I just got more questions instead of answers.”

Someone knocked at the door. Harris answered it, opening the door to reveal Hattie. “Are you two okay?” she asked. “I heard the explosion.”

“It wasn’t an explosion,” Harris answered before Sean had to correct her.

“I figured that out on my way down here. I’m afraid we’ve got bigger problems than that.”

“Bigger than an explosion?” Sean asked.

“Yes. You need to come outside and see this.”

Sean and Harris stepped outside and followed her to the graveyard on the opposite side of the church from the gravel parking lot and the house. Six people stood in and around the graveyard, stock still with their arms straight at their sides, facing the setting sun. While no fashion expert, Sean could tell their clothing came from different eras. One man wore a suit with a tie that seemed comically wide. One woman wore a simple brown dress that reminded him of old black-and-white films.

It was their uniform posture and facing that creeped him out the most. Their faces were slack and expressionless as they stared at the mountainside without blinking, without breathing.

“I saw two more standing along the road on my way down,” Hattie said.

“Two more what?” Harris asked.

“People,” Sean answered.

Harris squinted, and took several steps towards the graveyard. “You aren’t pulling my leg, are you?”

“I wish we were,” Sean said.

The preacher stared. “You know, I could almost make out a figure there. It’s like dust. Is that what you are seeing?”

“Careful,” said Hattie. “You start seeing ‘em, it’s hard to stop.”

“There are six of them. Real as day,” Sean said, taking a step towards the figure the preacher was straining to see. The one the preacher was trying to perceive was a woman in her sixties, wearing a teal dress with white trim. She bore a silver lapel pin, that looked vaguely like a flower, but Sean didn’t want to get any closer to be certain of the details. He described what he saw to the others.

“That’d be Grace Alls,” Hattie said. “She was killed by the snallygaster just before you got here.”

“But why?” Harris said. “Why would she be standing here? This is not how this works. She has returned to the One who gave her life. Why would she still be here?”

Sean crossed his arms. “Sophronia said something last night. About a piece of them staying behind even after their soul had departed. She didn’t really think of herself as the real Sophronia, just the remnant left behind. Whatever they are, Leendert must have brought them out.”

Hattie walked a short distance uphill to face the ghosts, but they took no notice of her. “They are angry.”

“How do you know?” Sean asked. “They don’t look it.”

“I may not see ‘em as clearly as you, Sean, but I can feel their anger. And it ain’t just ‘cause they got rousted by that explos…”

“It wasn’t…!”

“By whatever it was. No. This backwoods community, everything from here to Branton and beyond, is filled with very angry souls. Lots of death, lots of lost people, both literally and figuratively. I reckon the Man in the White Suit is responsible for a good deal of it, but not all. Whatever these are, these ghosts, they just got raised up and they ain’t happy. We’ve got to figure out some way to get them to sleep again, before they get rowdy.”

“It’s worse than that, Hattie,” Sean said. “Last night, Avery trapped me in the graveyard to try and get at the spirits there. He meant to harvest them so he could have the strength to go through the crossroads, take down the seal from the other end, and kill your mother. And now there’s a buffet standing around in the open waiting for him. Waiting for nightfall, maybe.”

Hattie’s face resembled those of the ghost’s. “This is serious.”

The preacher shook his head. “I don’t understand half of what you just said. But how can I help?”

“If you can pray ‘em all back into the ground or wherever they were resting, that’d be grand,” Hattie said.

“I’ll do what I can. Is the church safe to go into now?”

Sean sighed. “I should go see.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No. But I’m not running a great track record on good ideas right now. I can go check.”

“I’ll come as backup,” Hattie said. “I don’t know much about ghosts, but maybe I can keep you from becoming one.”

While the preacher attended the graveyard, Sean and Hattie circled around the church to the front door, which stood wide open. Pausing to determine the entry way was clear, Sean stepped inside.

Esther knelt in front of the podium, face in her hands, her back quivering. Hattie followed as Sean moved into the chapel. Halfway down the aisle, Sean stopped, and whispered, “Esther?”

The woman lowered her hands, and glared at Sean over her shoulder. Her eyes blazed with violet light, and streaks of tears glistened along her cheeks. “You did this!” she half-whispered, seething. “You woke him up! He ain’t gonna let nobody rest now until he’s let his rage burn out!”

“Is he here?” Sean asked, scanning the chapel.

“He’s downstairs, like he always is. ‘Cept now he’s awake, and he’s going to keep us all awake. Can’t you hear him?”

“What can we do?”

“Ain’t you done enough? Leave. Don’t come back. Let the righteous come and sing hymns. Maybe that will put him to rest. Just leave us be.”

Hattie put her hand on Sean’s shoulder. “I think it’d be best to listen to her. Unless Grandma Sophronia taught you some trick last night that you haven’t told me about.”

Sean shook his head. “I’m sorry, Esther. I truly am.”

Esther turned away from him and wept as he followed Hattie out of the church.

* * *

In the graveyard, Harris stood as still as the ghosts, head bowed in prayer. Hattie commented, “I reckon faith manages.”

“How do you mean?” Sean asked.

“The ghosts are gone.”

Sean looked at Hattie, at the graveyard, and back to Hattie. “There are still six of them there.”

“Really?” She squinted in the preacher’s direction. “I s’pose you got much better Sight than me. That’s good and bad.”

“Bad because it attracted the attention of Avery?”

“Bad because of the Man in the White Suit. He doesn’t tolerate many people with that much of a foot in the world of the dead, even among his own people. Mama didn’t want us talking with ghosts any, or even looking too close, because you never knew if word might get back to him. Did you see ghosts before you met Debra Arnot?”

“I don’t know…” He felt his chest grow tense. “Do you think Leendert did anything to Debbie?”

“I am not the one to ask, Sean. There’s no telling where her spirit might be. You first ran into her at the university, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. She… she haunts the university.” But he’d last seen her here. His chest remained tense. He looked up the mountain. The sun stood higher than the tree-covered peak, but not by much. “Hattie, I’m going to go see Sophronia. Can I get some food and water to take with me?”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t have a better one. I don’t know anyone else who can explain what’s going on. This time I’ll plan to spend the night.”

“You don’t think it’ll still be guarded?”

“I don’t care.”

Hattie shook her head. “You say that now, when the sun is up and you’ve had a chance to sleep. When you get there, you may wish you thought twice.”

“I’ll get there before sunset.”

“You think that’ll make a difference?”

“I don’t know.”

Hattie stopped and touched him on the shoulder. “Sean. Stop. Think. This—” She waved with her other hand toward the church. “This isn’t your fault. But when you meddle in things beyond your ken, even when you think you know what you are doing, bad things can happen. And you really don’t know what you are doing.”

“Is that what you told Jenny?”

“That was different.”

“Because she was family?”

Her nostrils flared, and her eyes hardened. “Don’t you dare, Sean! Don’t you think I would have done everything to stop those kids if I’d known they were trying to hunt a snallygaster? I even stopped everything when Thadeus threatened Jessabelle. I did what I could. He took her anyway. Do you think for a second that I want to see you hurt any more than them?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You ought to be. Look, you are a very smart young man. The only person I’ve ever known with your level of drive was Jenny’s mother. That got her in trouble too. This stuff you are working with isn’t like a class at school, Sean. Smart as you are, you can’t just cram like you might for an exam.”

“I know that. But it’s not like we have much choice. We’re in trouble, Hattie. If Avery carries out his threat, your family—and maybe all of us—are in deadly trouble. The worst thing we can do right now is wait until we know what we are doing.”

Her glare softened, though her voice was still reluctant. “I s’pose not. Just hurry back at daylight, if you can.” She glanced up the mountain where her mother’s old house was hidden among the trees. “I’m not sure how many daylights we’re going to have left before all hell breaks loose. If it hasn’t already.”

The sun hadn’t risen yet when a woman woke Jenny and Jessabelle in their tent. “Miss Morgan, Miss Rose, you are needed at the southern gate immediately.” In less than two minutes, they were dressed and ready for action. Jenny felt rested enough, fortunately, and Jessabelle was back to what Jenny thought of as “normal.” The last things they both put on were the protective amulets Jenny had made. She used The Sight to verify that they remained charged. Then they stepped outside.

The woman who had awakened them looked to be no older than Jenny. She wore a plain brown pioneer dress, and carried a musket that was almost as long as she was tall. In the air only a few hundred yards away, something made a throaty roar, and a tight sputter of fire illuminated an object in the sky. Jenny peered nervously at the shadow against the pre-dawn sky, and made out the outline of a hot-air balloon in the light of the flare.

“What’s going on?” Jessabelle asked.

“The enemy came during the night. We’re anticipating an attack at any time.”

Jenny and Jessabelle looked at each other. “I reckon this is it, then,” Jessabelle said. “Ain’t like we didn’t know it was coming.”

They followed the soldier. Jenny asked, “So why are people up in a balloon if there’s about to be a battle?”

The girl turned and looked up in the air. “I ‘spect it’s an observation balloon.” She continued towards the wall. “Ain’t seen a balloon but once. It’d be fun to fly in one. ‘Cept I ‘spect they are a target. There are two of ‘em, and they started setting off flares a few minutes ago. I don’t know what the different colors mean.”

“What’s your name?” Jessabelle asked.

“Natalie Daniels, of the Tritonville Irregulars.”

“How long have you been a soldier?”

“All of three weeks. I ain’t married yet, and I’m a good shot, so I volunteered.”

Jenny said, “You were with the incoming soldiers I saw yesterday.”

“Yep. I was camped outside of Sanguine for a week and a half. We’d missed the fighting the first week. It was really quiet, like you didn’t know there was a war going on. Then one day, a whole ‘nother army showed up. It was a mess. They hit us hard in our flank, cut off support with a chunk of the front line. They killed both of our witches in the first two minutes.”

Jenny’s heart curled into the fetal position, and the rest of her body threatened to follow suit. Jessabelle took her by the arm. Natalie quickly added, “Oh, but I don’t mean… We’re ready for them this time. Y’all will be just fine.”

They arrived outside the city walls where Jenny had registered the arriving soldiers the day before. Further ahead, groups of soldiers positioned themselves behind earthworks and low wooden walls. The ditches in front of the ramparts were now lined with sharpened stakes. More soldiers marched past, grim-faced and ghost-gray in the half-light of pre-dawn. The only lights came from tiny, shielded fires near cannons and groups of archers. Natalie brought them to a stone building near the wall which had been fortified with sandbags and stones that angled in like the foot of a pyramid. Dim, flickering lamplight spilled out the open double doors, with an almost constant traffic of soldiers hustling in and out.

They followed Natalie inside, where Commander Crane was conferring with General Paff. Natalie stood quietly until Lisbet acknowledged her, whereupon Natalie flashed a sharp salute. “Misses Morgan and Crane, ma’am.”

Lisbet returned the salute. “Thank you. You can return to your unit now.”

They exchanged salutes once more, and Natalie paused on her way to the door to speak to Jenny and Jessabelle. “Y’all will be fine. I’ll see y’all after the battle, okay?” She flashed a bright, encouraging smile, which Jenny returned with a weak smile of her own, and then left.

Lisbet turned to them. “Our scouts and picket forces have encountered the enemy. It looks like they aren’t going to waste any time. That’s probably to our advantage, all things considered, but I wish I had time to train you both. I’m going to trust the stories I have heard are not exaggerations. Miss Morgan, I need you to do much what you did yesterday. I need you to observe the fighting from a safe distance, and keep me informed if you witness magic being used. We need to identify and eliminate enemy battle-witches.”

“What do I do if I see them?”

“With your permission, I’d like to cast a spell that will allow us to speak to each other remotely. You can have me look through your eyes as if I’m right beside you, and I can relay that information to others.”

“She’s basically a radio,” Jessabelle said.

It seemed to Jenny that it was a waste of a witch’s power to do something that technology made almost trivial back home. But then, here something like a smart phone would be just like magic, wouldn’t it? “I guess so,” Jenny answered.

“Okay. I’d like a little bit of your hair to establish the link.”

“What do you need me to do?” Jessabelle asked, as Jenny pulled one of her red hairs to give to Lisbet.

“Keep your cousin safe. I’ll try to get units to help if you get in trouble, but you will be responsible for keeping her out of harm’s way while she’s focused on the battle.”

Jessabelle snapped an awkward salute, which Lisbet returned in all seriousness.

“The enemy is moving,” someone called down from the floor above. “The balloon is reporting positions. Artillery is ready to fire.”

“Excellent,” Paff bellowed, heading to the stairs. “We’ll win this war in time for lunch.”

Lisbet strode briskly out the door. Jenny and her cousin followed. Before they’d gone fifty feet, cannons fired with deafening explosions that lit the morning like lightning.

* * *

Leon met them at an earthen rampart, carrying a modern semi-automatic rifle from Earth, taken from the Coven commandos. The low barriers had seemed formidable when Jenny had helped process incoming soldiers earlier, but this morning they seemed like tiny, useless speed-bumps in the field. He flashed a grin at the girls. “You should be safe here. I doubt the enemy will get this far, but if they do, they’ll be in for some rude surprises.”

Jenny glanced down at his rifle. He patted it and shook his head. “No, not this, although the locals have managed to do a passable job creating reloads. No, we’ve got some other tricks up our sleeves, courtesy of a little bit of hard-earned twenty-first century know-how. If they try and push through for a quick victory, we’ll hit them hard. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to retreat.”

She smiled and nodded as if she believed him. “So you were in the Army back home?”

“For ten years, yes ma’am.”

“So have you been in any battles like this?”

“No, ma’am, but I’ve been in my share of scrapes. So have you, from what I’ve heard. You two keep an eye on what’s going on, and keep watching out for each other, and you’ll be fine.”

In her head, she heard Lisbet’s voice. “If you detect a witch with The Sight, say ‘witch’ and look at them. I will hear you, and see through your eyes. Describe them or give me some other way to identify them.”

“Okay.” When this battle was over and Taliel defeated, Jenny made a note to ask Lisbet some questions about this power. Would it be possible to use it through the crossroads? It would be nice to see home again.

Cracks of gunfire from the smaller weapons echoed from the field ahead. The muskets and other old-style firearms hurled smoke into the air, further obscuring the dim morning. Jenny peered over the rampart, catching glimpses of men and women positioned at similar embankments, armed with guns, crossbows, bows, and sometimes just spears. General Paff sat on his horse, surrounded by other mounted officers at a position a little above and behind her, near the city wall. All of the officers looked at once both calm and focused. She couldn’t see the enemy, but the soldiers at the furthest sets of earthworks were shooting at something.

“Where’s Jack?” she asked out loud.

Jessabelle shrugged. “Probably with Delcina, wherever she is. For all their claims that they ain’t really engaged, they sure act…”

Without looking at them, Leon hissed. “Ladies, be quiet. We’re battling for our lives, so please do your job.”

Jenny immediately turned to face the darkened battlefield, trying to make out some forms against the darkness and clouds of smoke. Shouts and occasional screams filled the gaps between gunshots. Arrows pierced through the obscuring darkness, missing their intended targets to arc down into the dirt not far from their position. Two arrows struck the embankment Jenny sheltered behind, a reminder she was not entirely out of reach.

It seemed so random and surreal, especially with an enemy she couldn’t see in the gloom and smoke. Even a wild arrow shot could kill. This was real, the danger was real, but somehow it felt so indirect and strange.

Lisbet’s voice came to her again. “Observers are reporting a large shape approaching. It might be a giant.”

The fighting at the front hit a lull. The smoke thinned as the sky lightened by a fraction of a degree. For a few seconds, Jenny dared hope the attack had been repulsed, and that the battle was over. Based on the shouts and cries for reinforcement, the soldiers near the front didn’t believe so.

Bodies lay on the ground between the fortifications. Some still moved, crying for help. Figures rushed forward to pull them back to the city. The seconds crept by, every detail of the battlefield gaining color by the tick of the clock, burning the image into her mind. “I can help some of those people,” she said.

Leon shook his head. “I know. Not right now. We have to finish the fight.”

Jessabelle leaned on the earthworks. “I knew it was too much to hope that it was done already.”

“They were testing our defenses. We got the better of that exchange.”

“We don’t have enough people,” Jenny said.

“If we had as many as we need, they wouldn’t have attacked.”

Lisbet’s voice came to Jenny again, another broadcast. “We have possible forces on the move along the south. Lieutenant Allred, move reinforcements to the south. Ready cannons, and prepare for a charge.”

Shouts and gunshots rose along the foremost embankments, signaling the next phase of the battle. Archers and crossbowmen launched silent projectiles in earnest at the enemy Jenny still could not see.

“She said to prepare for an enemy charge,” Jenny said.

Jessabelle stared ahead, face grim. “Get ready to run.”

Leon nodded at them. “Be prepared, but we’re okay. We’re expecting this.”

The darkness and smoke made it impossible to tell exactly when it happened. One moment, the defenders at the furthest barriers fired on an unseen enemy. Then, in the space of a few heartbeats, men and women swarmed around and even over the fortifications. People wrestled and struck each other with weapons, or even hurled themselves bodily at each other. Many fell over and did not get back up again.

Jenny felt bile rise up inside her. It was only the unreality of what she was seeing that held her food down. Something in her brain refused to believe she was witnessing so many people dying who were, only seconds ago, alive.

“We’ve got to do something,” Jenny said as soon as she could form words.

“We are. We’ve got our jobs.”

“Even if there was a witch out there, I don’t know if I could spot her.”

Friendly forces pulled back from the outermost fortifications as the enemies surged through. A cannon somewhere behind Jenny roared, and between it and renewed gunfire, the surge faltered. At that point, heavy footfalls thudded closer, along with a cheer from the opposing force.

The largest giant Jenny had ever seen charged forward, clad in metal armor and wielding a club the size of a tall man. It leaped over a trench and onto one of the earthworks, whirling the club at the fleeing defenders. Behind him, the enemy rallied, renewing their attack as arrows and bullets bounced harmlessly off his armor.

“Fall back,” Leon said to the girls as he motioned for others to join him. “We’re in trouble now.”

As Jenny and her cousin ducked down and backed away toward the last embankment outside the city wall, Leon and several others charged ahead, shooting at the giant with their modern rifles and running diagonally across the battlefield. Leon’s magical protection flashed from a connecting bullet. Another man stumbled as an arrow pierced his thigh. Before he could regain his momentum, the giant brought its great club down on top of him.

Jenny stopped in mid-stride, lurching almost as much as her stomach. Jessabelle nearly ran into her from behind. Turning to her cousin, Jenny said, “The giant is going to kill them all.”

“Leon’s got a plan, I’m sure.”

“The plan didn’t…” Jenny let her voice trail off rather than finishing the sentence, “… didn’t help that soldier.” This was war, and in war, people died. She’d seen several die in just the last few minutes. However, she couldn’t shake the terrible image of the soldier, staggering from the arrow shot and desperately racing for his companions one moment, and gone in the next.

“Come on,” Jessabelle said, grabbing her arm.

Behind the giant, the enemy soldiers swarmed. They followed at a casual pace, letting the giant bear the brunt of the defenders’ attacks. Defending weapon fire struck harmlessly against his armor leaving no more than a discoloration against the thick metal plates.

“No. We have to help them.”

“That’s not our job.”

“Since when did we stop helping people because it wasn’t our job?” Jenny pulled her arm from Jessabelle’s grasp, ducked low, and trotted toward the giant. While still at a relatively safe distance but close enough to help, she began singing the spell of protection, focusing it on the soldier closest to Leon. The soldiers took quick shots as they circled around, leading the giant closer to the town walls. Jenny let the first protective spell fly, cloaking the soldier with an aura that might take the brunt of the attack or save him from a few arrow shots.

Commander Crane’s voice boomed in her head. “What are you doing? Get out of there, now! Best speed!”

“But the soldiers need…”

“Get out now, or you are dead!”

As if to punctuate Crane’s words, the air around Jenny flashed electric blue. Frustrated, she turned back toward the wall. She hadn’t made it ten more steps before her protective spell flashed blue again, and an arrow careened away in a ricochet. That was the second time she’d been hit by a lucky shot. Most soldiers wouldn’t be so lucky.

She glanced over her shoulder. More defenders pulled back, several angling to join her. They were losing ground. Within seconds, the soldiers fighting the giant would be wiped out, and the enemy would rush the relatively weak city wall.

Cannons—at least two, possibly more—thundered from their positions behind the wall. The giant’s chest armor bent and split like a crushed Styrofoam cup as the heavy steel sphere careened off in another direction. The giant staggered backward and then dropped to the ground, motionless but for a few last spasms. Dozens of soldiers behind the front line dropped as marble-sized pellets shotgunned through the ranks.

Leon and his soldiers, who had deftly maneuvered the giant into exactly the right position to be targeted by the cannon, now raced for the wall. Two more of the six men fell to crossbow bolts. Leon’s shield lit twice more, but it held.

For some reason, Jenny’s shield flickered regularly. She was much further back than Leon, but something kept hitting her shield. Jessabelle’s flashed twice as well. While it was probably nothing, Jenny recited the song again, reinforcing her protection.

Natalie Daniels was the first of the group of thirty soldiers that reached her position. “Just keep heading toward the gate,” she said with a smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. We’ll keep you safe.”

Jenny flashed a grin. “Sure. Let’s go.”

The enemy picked up speed in its advance, rather than being deterred by the death of their giant. Jenny quit trying to keep her head down and ran for the gate. Arrows rained down around her, punctuated by the occasional puff of dirt. Most of the surviving defenders had pulled back to the final set of embankments, and as Jenny neared them it seemed that everyone on the wall or at the embankments were firing everything they had at the numberless attackers.

How had she fallen so far behind? One moment, she’d been far from the front line, and in a matter of seconds had been all but a straggler. Things had changed more quickly than she could have imagined.

Over her shoulder, a woman gasped. Jenny turned in time to see Natalie stop running. Her face was pale, and the front of her shirt was stained with blood. “Keep going,” the girl said, dropping her gun. “I’m right behind you.”

Something struck her from behind, a bullet from one of the dozens of blossoms of smoke. Jenny’s shield flashed again, weakly. Natalie collapsed, joining a trail of bodies that had been part of their fleeing group, dropping one by one without Jenny even noticing.

Jessabelle grabbed Jenny and pulled her toward the gate before Jenny could move to Natalie’s side. “Let’s go!” Jessabelle yelled.

“I can help her!” Jenny cried.

“No, you can’t,” Jessabelle shouted, pulling hard. “We ain’t gonna die too. Run!”

Confused, feeling like she was betraying Natalie, Jenny turned back and ran for the gate. They passed the defender’s line at the same time as Leon’s remaining group. With a glance over his shoulder, Leon shouted, “Fire it off! Now, now, now!”

Moments later, as Jenny passed through the gate, the battlefield erupted into fire, screams, and explosions. Even from fifty yards away, the blast of heat seemed to move through her, propelling her the last few feet into the city. Friendly hands helped her regain her balance as she staggered through, and dozens of men with crossbows aimed at the wall of smoke and pain behind her. Jessabelle guided her away from the gateway as eight more survivors followed, including Leon.

“Are the rest at the fortifications?” Jenny asked.

Jessabelle stared past Jenny, her eyes not quite focusing. Her face was smudged with dirt, and something wet had matted the right side of her hair. “Rest?” she asked.

“The ones with Natalie.”

Jessabelle shook her head. “No. They didn’t make it.”

Jenny stumbled ahead and found a patch of dirt away from the running soldiers and fell to her knees, squeezing her eyes shut and fighting off the waves of nausea. Between the intermittent gunshots, she heard screams and moans floating over the wall. Leon whooped, muttered joyful profanity, and howled through the gate at the enemy, “And that is how you build the IED from hell! Surprise, bitches!”

Jessebelle knelt beside her and put her arm around her, lowered her head, and shook twice in silent sobs. Jenny wanted to cry, to feel anything more than just confusion and nausea. The earth shuddered as the cannon blast split the air. Time and space ceased to exist, and only noise remained.

Somewhere nearby, a female soldier said, “General Paff, the enemy is in retreat. Do we pursue?”

Jenny opened her eyes. General Paff sat regally upon his horse, shaking his head. “No. They are just regrouping. They still have us outnumbered, though not by as great a margin as they did a half-hour ago. Mister Poulson?”

Leon turned from the gateway and saluted the general. The general returned the salute and said, “Your plan worked as close to perfectly as could ever be expected. I must admit, when I was told you originally came as part of an enemy raiding group, I had many doubts about you. I am happy to be proven wrong.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Paff turned his head toward Jenny, but didn’t look at her. “However, these children do not belong on my battlefield. Get them out of my sight.”

Leon did not offer an argument. “Yes, sir.”

Jessabelle stood up immediately. Jenny managed to control the contents of her stomach before weakly getting back to her feet. When Leon drew close, Jessabelle made an ugly face. “Who does he think he is, saying that about us? We were doing our job.”

“Not now,” Leon said, putting his hand on Jessabelle’s shoulder. “Let’s head back to the jail.”

Jenny concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other without falling or breaking into tears. After they’d gone a short distance, Jessabelle rephrased her question. “So what’s Paff pissed off about?”

Leon sighed. “You were out there to spot battle-witches.”

Jenny lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see any.”

“No, it’s not that. You broke your cover to cast your protective spell.”

“Your people were in trouble! One man was killed by the giant. I had to help.”

Leon didn’t look at her. “Discipline is critical in a battle like this. Sometimes, taking initiative is the right thing. If it was just us out there, nobody making decisions and watching the big picture, that might have been the right thing to do. Just not today.”

“Why not?”

Leon stopped and fixed her in his stare. “Jenny, they had witch-spotters, too. You became their primary target. Paff feels we spent too many lives rescuing you.”

“What? That was a rescue?” Jenny’s vision swam. The chaos of the battlefield, her protection spell flashing blue and wavering from hits, Crane’s angry orders, and the defenders rushing to join her all had seemed so random at the time. Now they made a terrible sense. “My fault…”

“No, we shouldn’t have put you so close to the line. You aren’t trained. We knew better.”

Jenny shook her head. “My fault.” She sucked air between her teeth. “Natalie.”

Everything she’d eaten since the night before came back up onto the ground.

* * *

The tents were no longer in a secure area. The only place to hide from Paff’s sight was the jail. She startled the lone jailer, who asked, “Are you authorized to be here?”

“I don’t think I’m authorized to be anywhere else.”

“Did we win?”

She shot the old man a withering look. He raised his hands as if to fend off her glare. “Nobody tells me nothin’!”

From her cell nearby, Min offered, “She’s here, so I’d guess we won. By her expression, I’d say it came at a cost. Jenny, please tell me Jessabelle and Leon are okay.”

Jenny nodded. “They are both fine. Leon’s the hero of the day. Jessabelle has guilt by association with me, but she’s out taking stock of everything.”

“What about my uncle?” Arlan asked.

Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. I didn’t see him near the fighting.”

“So what happens now?” he asked.

Lisbet Crane’s voice came from the doorway. “We prepare for their next assault, and hope we receive reinforcements before they do.”

“Reinforcements from where?”

“I was hoping you might tell us that, Arlan.”

Arlan shook his head. “I do not know that, ma’am.”

“Would you tell us if you did?”

“It’s not that easy. I believe you, but revealing secret information would go against my oath.”

“Hogwash. It’s exactly that easy. If you believe us, your oath is to Delcina, not the monster who has usurped her. Everyone else has had to pick a side based on a gut feeling in a matter of moments. Your problem is that you have your personal honor and loyalty entangled with your fellow soldiers’, and you fear making a move without them, especially if it means you may end up fighting against them.”

Arlan stared at her. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, and then closed it again, frowning.

Lisbet continued. “And no, I’m not reading your mind. I can’t do that. I just know how I would feel in your situation, and I’m sorry. However, I am not here to interrogate or recruit you. I’m here to talk to Jenny.”

Jenny sighed. “So how much trouble am I in?”

“In? None. You aren’t part of the military structure, or whatever structure we’ve managed to cobble together here. I believe Leon calls you a ‘consultant.’ You were under my direct command, so you are my problem. I don’t have very long, but I think I owe you that much.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what was going on.”

“That is why you follow orders from those who do. But you aren’t a soldier. You aren’t trained. You saved my life, or at least my sanity, and you have the makings of a competent battle-witch.”

“How? I don’t think I did anything right.”

“I think I was younger than you when I joined the Wardens. I didn’t have much choice. As a child, I could talk to people in their minds, sometimes even see through their eyes. I could also sense the weather and influence it. My mother was a witch, and she fostered those abilities. But my country was at war—really just a protracted set of skirmishes—with a neighbor over a piece of ground you could cross in a half-hour. The army wanted me for my abilities. My mother protested, and the king intervened, only to say that I could be made into the kingdom’s weather-witch. Angered, my mother sought out the only other solution.”

“The Wardens?”

“Yes. By treaty, if they needed resources, the kings either had to comply, or convene a council to determine if the Wardens were overstepping their bounds. This had the potential to go poorly for our king, bringing more attention to the conflict and possibly gaining allies for our enemy. So they let the Wardens take me. My mother thought it would be safer than the military, and also a poke in the king’s eye.”

“So much for that idea, I guess.”

Lisbet raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Right. Four years later, escorting a wagon of supplies from the Citadel from Parthington Outpost, we were attacked by bandits. They surprised us and outnumbered us. We beat them, but half of us were dead, including our lieutenant. In that tiny combat, after four years of training, I didn’t do very well, either. I felt useless, and that I was personally responsible for those deaths in my unit.”

“But now you know better?”

“Not exactly. I still feel responsible, but I believe I did what I could at the time. I’ve come to accept it, and I’ve tried to learn from the experience. Sometimes, that’s the best we can do. However, for whatever it is worth, I do not agree with Paff’s assessment. I know it was unintentional, but you managed to bait the enemy into charging right through the middle of Leon’s kill zone.”

“But a lot of people died trying to protect me. Natalie kept telling me I’d be okay, but I should have worried about her.”

Lisbet nodded, her cold gray eyes thawing for a moment. “If you had, you both might be dead right now. Jessabelle too, as I doubt she’d have left you. War is full of guesses and speculations on what might have happened. I wish I could offer more comforting words, but I’m not very good at that. Get some rest while you can. I don’t care what Paff says, you are here now, and I intend to make use of you.”

Jenny lowered her gaze and said, “Thanks,” but Lisbet had already made her way out the door.

Min’s voice came to her. “Well, I’ve heard worse pep talks in my time.”

Jenny looked over her shoulder at Min. “Maybe next time you should be the witch-spotter.”

“Me? Are you kidding? No way. I have no interest whatsoever in getting shot at. I’m keeping my head down and sitting this one out.”

“You sound like my mom,” Jenny said, not even thinking about what she was saying until it was out of her mouth. For a brief moment, she’d forgotten that her mother was gone. She had briefly forgotten about Natalie, too, the perky young soldier who had been filling Jenny with confidence in one moment, and was gone in the next. Reality descended back on her shoulders like a suffocating blanket filled with lead.

“Huh, that’s weird,” Min said.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Hey, you look wiped out. You should follow Crane’s orders and get some sleep.”

“I don’t remember her giving that as an order, and I’m obviously not cut out to join the military.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that she’s right.”

Jenny shook her head. “Our tent is outside the wall, and there are soldiers everywhere. I don’t even know where I’d be able to rest.”

Min laughed. “It’s cool enough in my cell, and they’ve got an extra cot in here. Honestly, it’s probably the safest place in the whole town, and probably the most luxurious bed you can find.”

“In the cell?” Jenny looked to the guard. “Um… can I sleep in there?”

The guard shrugged. “I don’t care. My job is just keeping those two from leaving.”

The shadows grew long as the sun drew closer to the ridge. Sean’s fear gave him visions of dangle-eyed monstrosities emerging from the shadows and lurking behind every tree and bush, and Avery coming along behind him with his deadly knife. He shouldered the bundle Hattie had made him, a small meal, water, and some of her healing juice, packed inside an old blanket. If he was going to be there for several hours again, at least he wouldn’t go hungry or thirsty this time. He thought the sandwich was overkill, but she had insisted, along with a promise. “If you ain’t back by noon tomorrow, I’m going to get Bella and the two of us are going to storm the graveyard and come after you!”

The hill appeared through the trees. Even knowing where the old gravestones should be, he couldn’t make them out through the grass and weeds. He hastened his pace until he found the faint violet border of the graveyard.

He almost made it before something tripped him. He caught his fall, but as he tried to stand, his feet were held fast. The ground lurched. Or, more properly, something big rose out of the ground underneath him, lifting him into the air. Sean fought against unseen bonds around his ankles as a giant boar took form, hazy black smoke coalescing into the husk of a beast, full of holes and exposed ribs. Its eyes twisted in tentacle-like nerve bundles, one staring at him while the other looked ahead. With a snort, it surged ahead, turning away from the ghostly graveyard fence and up another slope deeper into the mountains.

“Help!” Sean yelled, even knowing it was useless. The plat-eye plunged into the thick woods, forcing Sean to lower his head and cover his eyes with one arm as brambles and weeds scratched and ripped into him.

As they burst into a clearing, Sean dared to look ahead, finding their headlong journey taking them near a tree with a low-hanging branch. With both feet secure by some means along the monster’s hind-quarters, Sean raised himself up, lunging for the branch as they passed by.

The impact jarred his wrist and rippled all down his body and into his feet, knocking him backwards so he rode at a crazy rodeo angle with his head hanging over the creature’s backside. His feet and ankles didn’t come loose from their invisible shackles, and the blow barely slowed his horrible mount. Bouncing and jostling, once again torn at by underbrush as they raced along, he couldn’t sit up, and could only glimpse what lay in their path. The boar continued at an impossible speed, its stubby legs barely touching the ground as it charged uphill. Sean tried desperately to find something to gain purchase against and pull himself back into a forward position, but there was nothing he could grab, and he hadn’t done the kind of stomach crunches that could power him back over since high school.

One leap was almost enough to help him sit up, but his upward swing intercepted a low-hanging branch. It wasn’t thick enough to crush his forehead, but the long finger of wood felt like a baseball bat cracking against his skull. He reflexively covered his head with his hands, blind and tossed like a rag doll as the monster continued its breakneck charge.

He tried to summon some kind of magical power like Sophronia had exhibited, but it was nothing more than a wish and hope. He’d felt the power course through him, but he couldn’t summon it. Once more, weakly, he cried for help. They were so deep into the mountains there was no hope of being heard, but he wasn’t sure what else to try.

The creature slowed to a stop. With the last of his strength, Sean righted himself, facing ahead. The trees were thick here, but the last rays of sunlight filled a huge, steep ravine. Any other moment, he would have thought it beautiful. As the creature charged down the short slope to the edge of the ravine, the sight brought nothing but terror. Even at its impossible velocity, the beast could not leap across the ravine. At best, its trajectory would take it half-way, and they would plummet to the bottom forty feet below.

Sean flailed, grasping at leaves and weeds, seeking anything to hold onto as the zombie boar vaulted into the air. The moment all four feet left the earth, the beast faded into nothingness. At that same moment, Sean’s injured hand found something, grasping on for dear life. His speed took him forward, and then he crashed down against the side of the ravine, knocking the wind out of him, but he never lost his grasp on the life-saving anchor above him.

After taking a breath, he scrambled, pushing with his feet against the dirt, ignoring the pain in his hand as he pulled himself up. He was halfway over the edge before he realized his lifeline was pulling him up as well. He kept scrambling until he was safely away from the edge, and then he let go and turned to face his savior.

She wore a green floral skirt and a white short-sleeved blouse. She kept her dark hair simple and straight, and it caught the last red rays of the sun as it sank below the ridge to their west. “Hello, Sean,” she said softly. “Are you okay?”

“Debbie…”

* * *

She pursed her lips and knelt beside him, touching his hair. Her eyes went to his forehead. “That’s good that you remember my name, Sean, but you ain’t answered my question yet. You look like you’ve been dragged through a knothole backwards. Are you okay?”

“Debbie, you are here. How…?”

She dropped her hand and shifted position to look at him from the side. “That concussion might be pretty bad.” She raised her index finger. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“You saved my life!”

She frowned at him.

“One finger!”

“Okay, you maybe ain’t seeing double. I’d say we need to get you to a doctor, but I got no clue where we are. How are you feeling? Can you walk?”

“I’m okay. I just…” At her frown, he told the truth. “I’m in a lot of pain, and it’s getting worse by the second.”

“The adrenaline is wearing off. You got pretty torn up. Why did you try to ride that thing, anyway?”

“I wasn’t my choice. It grabbed me! How did you get here?”

“Here in Blood Creek, or here on a mountaintop saving your neck?”

“Both.”

She stood, and walked to the edge of the ridge. “Someone called. Something woke me up, something dark and vengeful. And then I was here. I couldn’t go back to sleep if I wanted. As to why I am here with you right now…” She leaned over with what seemed a precarious balance. Sean turned and held her wrist with his less-injured hand.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “I heard you call for help, and then I saw that thing appear over yonder with you riding upside-down on it.” She looked back down the ravine. “Do you think I’d be hurt if I fell to the bottom? Or would I just fall asleep again, waking up at the next freshman party at the school? That’s coming up soon, ain’t it? I can feel it.”

“It’s at the end of the month.”

“I wonder if I’ll meet someone new this time. Some new boy who will walk me home, make me forget what I am for a couple of hours.”

“Is that what happens?”

She stepped away from the edge. “Sometimes. It’s all a muddle, Sean. Sometimes I can think clearly, sometimes I can’t. Then it’s like being in a dream you know you’ve had before, but you can’t change it. Will I still do this a hundred years from now? Will I even know how much time has passed? Will your grandson walk me home one night in Morgantown? Will I have forgotten all about you?” She looked into his eyes and said, “I think I should be crying, but I can’t even do that.”

“I’m sorry, Debbie,” Sean said. “What can I do?” Looking into her eyes, he saw no hint of the violet flame that he’d come to regard as the mark of a ghost. She was physical and real, just like the first two times he’d met her. None of this made sense.

“Look at me. You are the one who very nearly died, and I’m going off about myself. The first thing we need to do is get you down to safety, before it gets too dark. We just need to get our bearings.” Scanning the area, she pointed the way the plat-eye had taken. “That wild pig might have left us a trail big enough to follow as long as there’s light. How long were you riding that thing anyway?”

“I don’t know. It felt like forever, but it can’t have been more than a couple of minutes.”

She took his hand—the left one, which wasn’t aching from being slammed against a branch and nearly yanked off his arm when she’d saved him. “Then maybe we can make it. Can you walk?”

His back felt like he’d been repeatedly slammed against a wall. In effect, that was exactly what happened. But, he was able to move one foot in front of the other. If anything, the throbbing in his head was a bigger impediment. But he was with Debbie again, and somehow that made it all worthwhile.

“How are you this way? How are you physical?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t understand. It’s the world that usually seems hazy like a fog you can’t touch, except on some nights when I get riled up or something.”

“Riled up?”

“Halloween night, usually. I want to find the boys that did this to me and hurt them. I never do. I can’t even remember their faces. I wait and see if they come back, pretending to walk me home, but really…”

“Was that what you expected me to do that night? Attack you?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s like a dream I can’t stop or wake up from, full of emotion but not much sense to it all. It was different this last time. I think it was because I saw you again. I recognized you, and thought you really were a friend.”

“I’d been searching for you for weeks.”

“Then there was someone else. Someone who took our picture, maybe?”

“My roommate, yeah.”

“For a moment, I thought I was going to lose it all. He reminded me of them. Those boys. Not his face, I don’t think, but he was drunk and leering. It all came back to me, and for a moment I was swept back into it all, not thinking, only feeling. Riled up. But you said something and came to my defense, and I was myself again.” She pointed down the slope. “This way. My stars, he did drag you a long way, didn’t he?”

The monster had been charging with tremendous force, managing to maintain speed uphill with Sean on its back and had left an obvious trail of hoof-torn dirt and smashed underbrush that continued down the slope as far as Sean could see. Following the trail was much harder along the steep slope with his injuries. He managed, with Debbie’s help, but had trouble imagining having the will or ability on his own. Even if he’d survived the fall, how would he have been able to drag himself back if he’d gone into the ravine?

He focused his attention on Debbie. Somehow that lessened the pain. “So what got you got riled up this time?”

“The voice. A stranger, the one full of revenge and anger.”

“Leendert?”

“I don’t know who you are talking about. I didn’t even hear words, I just heard the anger in his voice, and…” Her voice trailed off.

“It made you angry, too.”

“Yes. It made me think of someone.”

“The Man in the White Suit?”

“Yes. Him. You know who he is, don’t you?”

“The last time we saw each other, we were fighting one of his witches.”

“My memory ain’t that great. I remember lamplight. Annie’s house. You were in trouble. And then you were hurt.”

“Yeah. That all happened. So you know the Man in the White Suit. You hate him too. Why?”

“I don’t remember,” she said too quickly.

Sean stumbled, and Debbie stepped in front of him, gripping his hand tightly and putting her other hand on his chest to stabilize him. In spite of the pain, he covered her hand with his injured one. “Whatever it is, we’re going to stop him. Destroy him, if we can. I don’t know how, but he has to be stopped.”

“Sean, stop. Stop talking.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about him.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. After that call, I was so full of rage and fury; I don’t want to think about it. I wasn’t myself. I just wanted to hurt the man who hurt me. But not just him. I wanted to tear this world apart until I had revenge…” She moved in and circled her arms around Sean. “Hold me.”

Confused but more than pleased at her request, Sean did so, but it didn’t feel right. Not like it had felt when he kissed her at school. She stood stock-still for several moments, like the ghosts in the church graveyard. She said nothing. As physical as she might be, mimicking life, for several seconds she didn’t breathe or blink. “Debbie? Debbie, are you okay?”

She blinked, let go of him and stepped back. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I just about lost it again. We need to hurry.”

Sean nodded. Somehow it was harder now. Each step was a small torture along his back, and each sharp breath was an additional stab into his aching head. He focused on Debbie, the warmth of her hand in his, and on the arduous task of putting one foot ahead of the other down the slopes.

“That boar could have killed me if it just kept running,” Sean said.

“Maybe it had somewhere to be,” Debbie suggested.

“That’s kind of terrifying, too.”

“How are you doing, anyway?”

Sean forced a smile. “I’ll be okay.”

“Your lyin’ ain’t going to impress me, Sean.”

“It’s not you I’m trying to convince,” he said with a grunt. “It’s funny. I never thought about ghosts until I met you, and I wouldn’t have believed they could kill until a few weeks ago.”

“I wouldn’t know much about that,” Debbie said. “I’m just me. But I’m not sure I’m always that, either. If that thing down in Blood Creek starts calling again, you’d be best off being nowhere near any ghosts, including me.”

Through the break in the trees, Sean spotted the hilltop in the twilight. Letting his eyes grow slack and lose focus for a moment, the faint violet glow still surrounded it. “There it is. That’s the best bet tonight. For both of us.”

“Where?”

“A place with a lot of ghosts.”

The pain hounded Sean constantly, but he pushed through as they approached the old graveyard. He’d regret it tomorrow. He’d have to give up another day of practicing archery. Maybe spend the day in bed. That is, assuming he had another day-unless Avery, the “harvester,” came calling.

What if Avery came after Debbie? In his extremely limited experience with spirits, she was the most vibrant, present, and for lack of a better term, the most alive. Certainly she would be a target. Sean’s elation at seeing her turned to apprehension as they neared their destination.

Avery wasn’t there. But another plat-eye was. Perhaps it was the same one. It coalesced in the form of a shadowy human, distorted and featureless but for one glowing eye, standing between them and the graveyard.

“Not again,” Sean groaned. “Every time…”

“It’s another of them bad spirits, ain’t it?”

“Yes. We need to get into that graveyard. We’ll be safe there.”

“But the spirit?”

“It can’t get us both. You go right, I’ll go left, okay? Just keep going until you are in the graveyard. Now, RUN!”

Did ghosts need to run? He didn’t know. He didn’t go left. He charged directly at the plat-eye, bent over to knock it down. His injuries flared and slowed him, but it didn’t seem to matter. He passed through the figure as if it were made of smoke. He had an instant to believe he was home free, until the smoke grabbed him. Between the pain and the grip, he made no headway, straining towards the faint violent fence only a few yards away.

“Let him go!” Debbie cried from somewhere behind him. The grip vanished, and Sean stumbled, losing his balance and collapsing on the dirt. Turning over, he saw the shadowy form engulfing Debbie, dagger-like claws appearing the ends of misshapen hands. As he watched in horror, it drove the claws into her. She shrieked as it tore at her.

“No!” Sean howled uselessly at the beast. He pulled himself onto his knees, pain wracking across his back and legs, and felt desperation and rage fill his soul. He had to save Debbie. Nothing else mattered. In spite of the weakness and agony in his limbs, he willed himself to tear this horrible thing apart himself, to drive his fist through its lone, glowing violet eye.

The eye shattered like exploding glass. A scream echoed along the glen, but it was not Debbie’s voice this time. As the bestial shriek faded in the twilight air like the smoky mass of darkness that had belonged to the eye, Sean lurched to where Debbie lay curled in the fetal position.

“Debbie, are you hurt? Are you okay?”

She gradually unfolded herself, staring into his eyes as her body shivered. He reached for her hand, finding it physical but unnaturally yielding, as if she were made of soft, wet clay. He simply held her hand, willing it to remain physical and not dissipate like the smoke of the creature that had mauled her.

After a moment, she quit shaking, and grew so still she didn’t even pretend to breathe. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

“Come on,” Sean said. “Let’s get into the graveyard. We’ll be safe there.”

In a blur, she stood, her hand no longer touching his. Sean struggled to stand. She watched him, as if unsure what to do, and he motioned for her to follow him up the low slope. They crossed through the violet barrier, and he pushed himself to nearly the center of the small graveyard before he lowered himself to the ground and rolled onto his back.

Debbie knelt beside him. “You rescued me,” she said. “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t let it hurt you.” Relief flowed through him in waves, easing his pain but weakening his limbs.

“It hurt me,” she commented distantly. “I… I know you. Your name is Sean. You are the boy I met at the dance!”

The words struck him worse than any monster attack. “You don’t remember?”

“I remember some. I’m supposed to know you. I feel… I feel like I can trust you. Of course! You saved me from something terrible.”

“You saved me first.” He relaxed a bit. The ground was almost comfortable this time. “Twice.”

“Right. You were trying to ride a giant hog. You…” Recognition came to her eyes. Her very human, very physical eyes. “Oh! Sean, you are hurt. I’m so sorry. I grew so scattered there for a moment.”

Tears blurred his vision, but he couldn’t tell if they were from pain, or Debbie’s memory loss. “It’s okay. We’re here. You are safe for now.” He tried to roll over to take her hand, to make sure she was still physical. A little spasm from his injuries made him think the better of it, and besides, he was so very tired. His arms and legs felt like they were made of lead. His vision swam, and the world around him became clouded. “I have healing juice in my pack,” he said.

“What pack?” Debbie asked. Sean forced himself to think. It must have fallen off when he’d been captured by the plat-eye.

“He shouldn’t have done that,” another voice came from somewhere past his head. He didn’t feel like tilting his head around from his comfortable spot to see who said it, but he recognized the voice. Sophronia. “Boy like to get himself kilt. I don’t even know what that was. It was like trying to choke a bear by jamming your hand down its throat.”

He found himself losing consciousness, and dreams merged with reality. He thought of his room at WVU, and then he was laying on his bed. Debbie knelt beside him, wearing a nurse’s uniform. Not a real, modern nurse outfit, but one of those older outfits with the white apron and little white cap. She must have gotten her degree in nursing after all!

“Congratulations,” he said.

“Why?” she asked. And he was, briefly, back in the graveyard again, semi-wakeful. He’d said that out loud, and it had made no sense.

“Sorry. I’m…” He found himself slipping into semi-consciousness again. He was in his room. Her costume had changed slightly to an all-white nurse’s uniform. “I’m just in love with you,” he finished, though he wasn’t sure what sentence he was finishing.

“What?” she seemed alarmed. What had he said? He regained only enough consciousness to realize he was half-dreaming, but couldn’t raise enough energy to care. Exhaustion consumed him.

Sophronia walked into the room. She was a professor at the university. “That explains a bunch. And it makes a big ol’ mess of things.”

If there was anything more, he didn’t remember it as he let unconsciousness take him.

* * *

He awoke to moonlight. Soreness from sleeping on the ground mingled with greater soreness from his muscles, especially along his legs and back, but at least he wasn’t feeling the sharp pain anymore. He groaned, stretched, and rolled forward into a sitting position. He checked his watch and found it was just before midnight. He’d slept for three hours.

“Sean, you are awake!” Debbie’s voice sent little electric currents through his body. She was still here!

“Yeah. Sorry. I can’t believe I crashed like that.”

“I was afraid.”

“Don’t be. You’re safe in here.”

“I was afraid for you.” Her voice was firm.

“Oh. Sorry. I guess the ride on the back of a monster took a lot out of me.”

“It was not just that.” The moon reflected in a pool on her hair. How? He could get a Master’s Degree in—what? Ghostology?—and never fully understand what they were. By definition, spirits were immaterial, what was left after their physical forms were gone, if they ever had one. Yet, they could kill. They could pull someone from a deadly plunge. They could kiss. And in spite of everything his brain told him right now, he could not convince himself that a real, living, breathing young woman wasn’t kneeling beside him.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. I’m okay. I am myself again, even more than usual. I can’t feel that rage anymore. It’s no longer calling me. I assume that’s the effect of the graveyard. Did you figure that out?”

Sean snorted. “I wish. I was actually looking for a place that might be safe from Avery and the plat-eyes.”

“Oh. Sophronia told me about him. Oh, she’s my best friend Annabelle’s great-grandmother. Or is it great-great? I think it’s just one great.”

“We met. I met Annabelle too, a few weeks ago.”

“You did?” Debbie drew closer to him, now, absently pushing her hair from her face. He eyes glistened. “Is she okay? She’s still alive, ain’t she?”

“Alive and looking pretty good for her age, yeah. She’s the one keeping the Man in the White Suit’s entire coven locked out of the crossroads right now. I don’t know how much of that you know about.”

“A little. Enough to follow along. You don’t need to go into detail. I’ll probably forget it all by morning, anyway.” She stuck out her lower lip. “Believe it or not, when I was—before the incident, I was pretty smart. Straight A’s in school, borrowed every book I could from the library, especially on medicine and biology. I wanted to be a doctor, but we couldn’t afford all that. I took such a lot of courses my first semester, but I didn’t get very far. Now, I have a problem with—what’s it called?—retention.”

“Do you remember that night we were together in Annie’s house?”

She looked offended. “Now, that surely don’t sound like me, Sean!”

Sean was confused until he realized what she was getting at. “No, no! Nothing like that! Evelyn came, made me fall asleep, and…”

“Oh, that. Yes. I kind of remember. Weren’t we talking about that earlier?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah. I had some questions. Not about that night, but about something else.”

“I don’t remember much about that night, anyway. I wanted to get help. I went looking for Annie. I found someone like her instead. A relative?”

“Yeah, something like that. So your memory doesn’t work very well?”

“Nothing works well. I’m dead. I even forget I’m dead most of the time. It’s being stuck reliving bad memories over and over again. You can’t ever escape.”

“I’m sorry.” He reached to take her hand, but she pulled it away. What was wrong? What happened? He was too afraid to ask. Besides, there was another uncomfortable question he wanted to ask. “I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but you said something back there. I mentioned the Man in the White Suit, and you said you wanted to hurt the man who hurt you. Do you remember who it was? You said earlier there was a group of boys…”

She folded her arms around herself, and bowed her head. “I don’t want to remember. Is it that important?”

“Maybe. Maybe as a way to find peace or something. So you can move on.”

“You want me to move on, Sean?”

“No. But yes. You should be free. You said yourself, it’s all a bad dream you can’t escape. I don’t know if this will help, but you asked your brother to help you find out what happened to you, but when he told you about the boys, you didn’t think it was right. Maybe there’s something you can remember and I can help you.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why? I don’t know. Because I should.”

“I remember something you said too. I’ll tell you what I remember if you explain what you said.”

“What did I say?”

“As you were falling asleep, you said you were in love with me.”

“Oh.”

“Did you mean that?”

Sean puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly in a doubly-awkward effort to stall. She waited for his answer. “I don’t suppose this is one of those things were you can answer my question first, and then I answer yours?”

If there had been any violet flame in her eyes like most ghosts, it would have scorched him. He held up his hands and said, “I… I don’t know. Or … maybe. I haven’t figured it out. Yes, I have feelings for you. I obsessed over you in college. I still am, I guess. How could I not? After we kissed that night… how was I supposed to feel?”

“I forget who I am on those nights. I’m just those memories. I’m a girl.”

“Right. And I went nuts over a girl. And she seemed to have something for me, too.”

“That ain’t me anymore. We both know what I am.”

“Sure. I’m not an idiot.” He sighed. “Not that much of one, anyway. I can’t help how I feel. But at least I can help you. I want you to be safe, or move on, or whatever it is ghosts do.”

Sophronia’s voice rose up beside him. “That there is part of the problem. She ain’t a ghost.”

Debbie and Sean snapped their heads toward the ephemeral source of the voice. “What?” they asked in the same stunned tone.

Jenny gradually became aware of a soft conversation taking place nearby. As she semi-consciously debated between returning to sleep or waking up, an unfamiliar voice said, “I must go to my post. Not that they are expecting me. Please express my gratitude.”

Jessabelle answered, “Sure thing. Thanks for dropping in. I’ll let her know!”

By the time Jenny’s curiosity roused her to full wakefulness, the stranger was gone. Jessabelle, leaning against a desk in the office beyond the cell, looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with Jenny. “Hey, you’re up!”

Jenny blinked. The room was sticky with heat, uncomfortable but not oppressive. Min sat on the opposite cot, her back against the stone wall and her eyes closed. Jenny couldn’t see Arlan around the stone wall that afforded the cells a token measure of privacy.

“How long was I asleep?” Jenny asked.

“More than enough to catch up on the sleep you missed. I think you must have cast your protective spell a lot more than you thought you had this morning. It wiped you out.”

Jenny rubbed her eyes. “I had no clue what was going on. I didn’t fully realize I was being shot at. The general is probably right to want me out of his sight.”

“You talked to Commander Crane? She says she mainly wants you out of the enemy sight, now that they know who you are.”

“Great. They didn’t attack again, did they?”

Jessabelle shook her head. “Nope. Leon says the explosions did more damage to their morale than their personnel, whatever that means.”

Arlan’s voice drifted from the other cell. “It means you gave them a bloody nose, and they were surprised. We were told that only a handful of traitors supported Delcina. The majority of the army supports the Council of Lords.”

Jenny squinted at Arlan’s cell. “Who is the Council of Lords? I thought you guys were serving Taliel?”

“Not directly. She’s just a symbol. The Council of Lords are officially in charge of locating and confirming the next person in the line of succession. As Queen Regent, Taliel’s a temporary member of the council, until an heir can be found. But the Council, at least those who haven’t left, is justifying the fight as a battle for justice. It is using her as a figurehead. Your forces are just supposed to be a tiny group of bandits, murderers, and traitors. Between getting a bloody nose, and spotting uniforms, or the flag of the Wardens, soldiers like me will be having second thoughts.”

“Because their enemy is stronger than they thought?” Jenny asked.

Arlan appeared and leaned on the bars of his cell. “If the Wardens have taken your side, it means ours is the wrong one.”

“You finally believe that?” Jessabelle asked.

Min spoke up. “I think you are greatly underestimating the will to survive. Maybe you are an idealistic exception, but I think your average grunt trying to survive is not going to think too hard about his choices. He’s going to keep his head down, follow orders, and try to live another day.”

Sheriff Hodson arrived, took a moment to survey the scene, and asked, “Did someone turn this building into some kind of social hall this morning? And why are these prisoners still here? We have an actual stockade for prisoners of war, now. We should set them free or reassign them. What is Jenny doing inside the cage?”

His assistant stood up. “I’ll take care of that right away!”

“No, don’t bother. I’m not going to be here long. Somehow, with all of this chaos and war, someone had time to commit a murder last night. Three murders. Poison, as far as I can tell. I need Owen’s help, but he’s dealing with casualties right now.”

Jessabelle said, “Speaking of which, I need to get back to help him.” She lingered by the door, however, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Do you need a healer?” Jenny asked.

Hodson shook his head. “These men are well beyond healing.”

“How do you know they weren’t just killed in the fighting?”

“They never made it to the fighting. They were poisoned last night, as far as I can tell. Do either of you witches know much about poisons?”

Jenny shrugged. “My grandmother has taught me a little, but not really.”

Min raised an eyebrow. “Some.”

“Were the murdered people—um, victims—with the group that arrived yesterday?” Jenny asked.

Hodson nodded. “I think so. That’s right, you checked the new arrivals in, didn’t you?”

“Except for the ones who went straight to the medical tent, yeah. If you need any help, I’m happy to lend a hand. They don’t want me fighting anymore.”

Hodson looked at Min. “Would you have anything to contribute?”

Min sat down on her cot across from Jenny, and said, “Me? No. I like this cell. It’s probably the safest place in town right now. I mean, I do have some training in herbs and chemicals with poisonous properties. And I processed almost half of the incoming soldiers yesterday. And I used to work the other side of this, covering up crime scenes so the local authorities wouldn’t have any clue what really happened.”

Jenny’s eyebrows shot up. “You covered up crime scenes?”

Min shrugged. “Covered up. Cleaned up. We caught or destroyed monsters, dear. Often the government would pay us to do the clean up to keep it quiet. I met Leon when we were on the team together. We sometimes called it ‘counter-forensics’.”

Hodson sighed. “Very well, I could certainly use the help, especially if we have a traitor in our midst. I’ll talk to someone on the council and get you released to help me. Both of you.”

Min shook her head. “You misunderstand. You can have Jenny. I’m not interested. There’s a war going on out there, and I’m better off staying put.”

Hodson frowned behind his huge mustache. “What? Why did you spend the last minute explaining your qualifications to me?”

Min grinned broadly. “I was letting you know what’s for sale.”

“For sale? There’s a war going on out there. You told us yourself that you are in danger from the other side.”

She nodded. “That’s exactly right. They forced my cooperation in the first place, and I’ve proven my worth several times. Yet you still keep me here as a prisoner. If you want me to discover your murderer and possible saboteur, then I want the whole enchilada this time.”

“Enchilada?”

“Freedom. Total. Delcina is supposed to be the heir to the throne, right? Then she should have the power to grant me a full pardon or amnesty or whatever. Get that, and we’ll catch your killer.”

Jenny sighed. “You’ve got terrible timing.”

“The timing is perfect. Look, Jenny, sometimes you just have to take the opportunities life hands you, and you might have to be a little bit of a bitch to get your due. Life doesn’t give you what you deserve; it gives you what you negotiate.”

“Where did you learn that? In an evil fortune cookie?”

“A book. But it’s also true, and a hard-won life lesson. Look, I honestly do want to help. But there is a shooting war happening right now, and I’m not going to wait any longer to see if I move up anybody’s ‘to do’ list.”

“What if the answer is no?”

Min shrugged. “Then I guess they don’t think my help is that valuable, and I’ll have to wait for another opportunity.”

Jenny turned to Hodson. “I’m helping regardless.”

From the doorway, Jessabelle said, “I still wouldn’t trust her.”

Hodson’s mustache quivered. Min folded her arms. “Faran,” Hodson said to his assistant, “Please see if Delcina is available, and convey my request for a pardon for the prisoner in exchange for her services in this affair.”

Faran stood and went for the door. “Right away, sir.”

Jessabelle shrugged. “Whatever,” she muttered and followed Faran out.

* * *

Faran returned twenty minutes later with Delcina. Jack followed at a polite distance, and a man in the colors of the Royal Guard stood outside the door. Her fine clothes were marred by soot and blood on one sleeve. In the hand missing a finger, she held an envelope. In spite of her less-than-pristine outfit, she managed to look regal. Jenny took notes as she watched the woman’s gaze sweep the room, focus on Min, and approach the cell.

“You entered our kingdom for the purpose of treachery, Min.”

Min nodded. “Under duress. And as I hear it, you have half the kingdom saying you and your followers are the ones guilty of treachery, your Highness.”

“True enough, for now. Leon speaks highly of you.”

“Leon was also working for the bad guys when he arrived. Under another kind of duress. He’s proven invaluable for you so far, hasn’t he?”

The corner of Delcina’s mouth raised. “I’ve already signed this letter of clemency, Min.”

Smiling, Min said, “Good. Waiting for a court date in the middle of a revolution might take a long time.”

Delcina handed the note through the bars to the witch. “This letter of clemency is contingent upon your cooperation. It also states that no tolerance will be given whatsoever for further actions against us. One misstep while hostilities continue, and you will be summarily executed. You will not be granted another chance. Do you understand this condition?”

Min stepped towards the bars, eyes locked on Delcina, and nodded. “I do. But you’ll have to take a number. I’m already out of chances with the Coven.”

“Very well. Hodson, set her free. She is no longer our prisoner.” She looked to Jenny. “I assume you are only in the cell to take advantage of the cot?”

Jenny nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Your Highness. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

Delcina’s laugh was light, perhaps forced, but welcome. “Good thinking. When this is all over, I hope you’ll be able to stay for a while. Besides owing you my gratitude, Jack has spoken highly of you. I’d like to get to know you better.”

Jenny nodded. “I’d like that. Let’s just get through this.”

“Exactly.” She turned and walked out of the station.

Jack hesitated before following her out. “Hey, Jenny,” he said. “You doing okay?”

Jenny shrugged. “You heard about what happened this morning?”

“I did. When Bachan heard, he said it sounded like exactly the kind of thing I’d do. I told him he was right. I’m just glad you are okay.”

“So far, so good.”

Jack nodded, and pointed his thumb at the door. “I have to get back. The enemy is setting up position to the south, but so far they aren’t looking like they are planning to be there for the long haul. We’re worried they have something up their sleeve.”

She half smiled and looked up at him. He was still Jack, her dear, headstrong friend. But in just a few weeks, he’d become something more. He’d grown up, but without losing the brash, adventurous kid inside him that made him Jack.

His eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“Huh? Nothing.”

“Do I have a booger sticking out of my nose or something?” He quickly brushed his nose with the back of his hand. “Man, that’s embarrassing!”

Jenny giggled and waved at the door. “No, nothing like that. You’re fine. You go help us win. I’ll see you later, Jack.”

He flashed a grin, and left.

As Hodson unlocked Min’s cell door, Jenny shook her head. “I thought Delcina was pretty cold. Summary execution?”

They stepped out of the cell, and Min stood beside Jenny. “That? No. That was negotiation. She’s dangerous. She may have had the same fortune cookie I did.” She grinned. “I think I like her.”

Arlan’s voice floated from his cell. “Do you need any more help?”

Min clucked with her tongue. “No, Arlan. If we need to track someone through the forest, we’ll let you know. But this wasn’t your moment.” To Hodson, she said, “Now, I believe you have the bag I was captured with? I may have some tools that will help us out.”

“I been trying to figure out what she is since y’all got here,” Sophronia said. “Ghosts are just pieces of a soul, maybe a few emotions or memories that get stirred up and start walking around. The real soul goes somewhere else. I like to think the rest of me made it to heaven, and not the other place.”

Sean heaved himself to his feet. His whole body felt sore, but the spasms of pain were gone. The spectral figure was so different from Debbie. Sophronia not only looked different, she felt different. “That’s what you told me before. But what does that mean?”

“We got ghosts aplenty here, young man. The devil in white, he made sure of that. It makes for a potent stew, all them emotions and sadness and memories in so much unrest. It makes a place wild. It attracts spirits like them plat-eyes.” Pointing a shadowy figure at Debbie, Sophronia said, “That girl ain’t one of the ghosts. She’s a whole soul, near as I can figure. She’s more like those plat-eyes than a ghost.”

Sean glanced at the girl beside him, and back to Sophronia. “You aren’t saying she’s one of those monsters!”

“No, of course I ain’t. She would never have gotten in here if she was one. No, she’s a girl alright, or she used to be. But something awful has happened to her, something that trapped her soul and prevented it from passing on.”

Sean blinked. “That’s possible?”

“Clearly.”

“But who could…?”

Debbie slumped her shoulders. “That’s the answer to your question. The Man in the White Suit.”

“How? What happened?”

Debbie turned away from them both, staring up at the moon. “I can only remember fragments. The one thing I recall plainly is how much I hate him. He tried to recruit Annie to join him in his little coven. She refused. Then he tried to kill her. Twice. That’s before she turned even turned twenty. Annie’s mama never explained him to either of us. She just said he was a powerful witch and to leave him alone. Mama Norton was terrified of him. For good reason, I reckon.”

More silhouette than personage, Sophronia’s form shuddered and blurred in the air. “I should have feared him more. I should have taught Collette to fear him more.”

Debbie glanced at Sophronia, and turned to the moon again. “We should have, too. When we were younger, Annie used to borrow these Nancy Drew stories from the school library and would read them to me aloud. I loved them. I think I learned to read because of those stories. I was a late bloomer, but I made up for lost time, and read everything I could. I wanted to study, go to college, become a doctor. We couldn’t afford that, even with Mama Norton’s help. But I did the next best thing and studied to be a nurse. I learned everything I could so I could graduate quick, before the money ran out. But I never forgot those books. Somehow, I thought that while I was doing all that studying and taking classes at the community college, I could also play girl detective. I thought I could find out what the Man in the White Suit was planning, and maybe catch him and his coven in some kind of crime, and report it to the police.”

“Ain’t nobody can just arrest him, even if they were so inclined. You should have known better.”

Debbie lowered her head. “We both should have. But Annie thought it was a great idea. We communicated with secret messages in our letters. It was silly. I just assumed that I was too unimportant for him to notice. In the end, I was no girl detective, and it was the first time I’d been more than a stone’s throw from Blood Creek. He wasn’t some art thief, leaving me clues. By the time I got to the university, I was too busy taking so many classes that I couldn’t do anything else. I could almost forget the Man in the White Suit and his witches. I didn’t have any social life, and I only went to two events the whole time I was there.”

Debbie turned to Sean. “I went to the freshman party, the weekend before classes started. And I went to the Halloween social. I didn’t have a costume, but my roommate gave me little fake cat ears to wear, and I drew whiskers on my face with eyeliner.”

The moonlight behind her shrouded her face in darkness, but the sadness in her voice felt like a hammer blow to Sean’s chest. This was old news, decades before his birth, but her voice quivered as she spoke as if she were living it all over again. Sean wanted to make it all better, but he didn’t know how. Trying to lighten the mood seemed almost irreverent, but he couldn’t come up with anything better to do. “You got the makeup on my face when we kissed,” he said. “From your nose.”

“Did I?” She made a noise somewhere between a choking laugh and a sob. “Forgive me, Sean. I wish I could remember that. I remember some things so clearly now, some things I don’t know if I’ve ever remembered. But others are still a blur. Things were different with you. I was so lonely there, with Annie back here in Blood Creek, and me so up to my neck in schoolwork. I remember wanting so desperately to meet someone I could talk to. Someone who could make me laugh.”

“Did you?”

“When I was alive, you mean? No. Not really. It’s funny how you can be in a room full of people and feel more lonely than ever. That was me. I left a little early. But then a boy came up to me who I’d caught looking my way a couple of times, and he asked to walk me home. I smelled the beer on his breath, but he seemed nice enough. I told you, I was desperate. So I said yes. He and his two friends grabbed me not three blocks from my house, threw me into a car, and drove off. One of ‘em held a knife to my throat, warned me to behave or they’d kill me. Oh, Sean, I knew they were going to do terrible things to me. But I thought at least they’d leave me alive.”

Sean shivered. “Debbie, I’m so sorry. I wish…” What did he wish? That none of it would have happened? What a stupid thing to say. Words were beyond inadequate. He just let his voice trail off. How could anyone hurt anyone as beautiful and as sad and as brilliant as this girl? The depths of depravity were beyond anything human.

“We drove for a while. I got more scared the farther we drove. They were going to dump my body somewhere far away, I just knew. But instead, they took me to a house, out in the middle of nowhere. The Man in the White Suit was there. He knew who I was. He’d always known. I’d never been beneath his notice. He hurt Annie through me. I don’t remember anything beyond that. I can’t remember how I died, if he murdered me personally, or let those boys handle it. I hardly remembered any of it until today, when I woke up to that voice calling me. I woke up in a rage, full of hate for that man in the white suit, with his soft words masking his murderous evil. I couldn’t think of much else except how much I hate him, until I heard you yelling for help. I remembered you. Not clearly, but I remembered your name. I remembered bits and pieces. And I remembered…”

Sean waited for her to continue her sentence, but she silently stared at the ground. Sophronia broke the silence with speculation. “Why did he do it? Did you remember anything he said to you? He has made plenty of ghosts around here in the past. I’m one of his victims. It’s like fertilizing a field for him. Trapping an intact soul is something else. Why would he want that? What would he accomplish?”

“Maybe he already did,” Sean suggested. “It’s been decades. Sophronia, are there any spells performed on an intact soul?”

“Either way, that’s necromancy. That’s frowned upon.”

“I really don’t think he cares who frowns on it.”

Debbie looked up. “Do you think he’s done something to me?” She raised her arms, observing them as she held them in the moonlight. “Maybe I’m not even me anymore!”

“You’re you,” Sean said. He reached forward to touch her arms, but she pulled away from him as if his palms burned. He stepped back and lowered his hands, but looked straight at her. “Look at me. Please, Debbie.” She looked up, but he couldn’t see her face clearly with the moon behind her. “As far as it is possible for me to tell, it is you. The girl I met at the freshman dance, and the girl I spent half a semester trying to find again. The girl I searched half the state for even after I knew what you’d become.”

“We can’t be together, Sean.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. And maybe I still have to get over that. But we still have something. Maybe it’s one of the weirdest friendships of all time, but it’s something.”

“When I can remember.”

“When you can’t, I’ll remember for us both.”

She sighed, a very human sigh. “You are an idiot, Sean. Cute, but an idiot.”

“At least I have my…”

The distant howl interrupted not only his words, but his thoughts. For a moment, he could feel only fear and anger, but he didn’t know where to direct either emotion. The violet barrier around the graveyard flared. Sophronia shimmered, and the air around her sparked with ghostly light. Debbie backed away, hugging herself.

As the sound faded and Sean regained control of his senses, he spun toward the source. “Was that Leendert?”

Debbie rushed beside him. “Back up! Back away!”

He turned again. Debbie stood between him and Sophronia, and a small army of phantoms behind her. Sophronia’s eyes blazed. “He’s got power,” she said. “He could help us. Together, we can destroy him.”

“How? How would we do that?”

The light faded from Sophronia’s eyes. The ghosts behind her turned away, wandering off to whatever patch of ground in the graveyard they claimed as their place. “What am I doing?” Sophronia scanned the graveyard and rubbed her hands together. “I ain’t thinking straight. What happened?”

Debbie relaxed. “Sean, I think we ought to go. I think this place ain’t safe for us after all.”

Sophronia stared into the darkness beyond the graveyard. “No, it ain’t. Ain’t safe for any of us. I ain’t strong enough to protect all of us. Not anymore. That thing got through the fence, and he’s calling us all to war against the devil in white.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“No. Not when we’ll be meat for the Harvester’s table. No, that fool Dutchman is acting like just another busybody, jumping in without knowing what he’s doing and making things worse.”

Sean stared into the violet pinpricks of light in Sophronia’s eyes. He still couldn’t tell exactly what she looked like, as it had always been dark and her appearance always hazy, but he had gotten to know those eyes. “Let me tell you about worse. Right now, the Man in the White Suit is very close to sending people Around the Bend to bring his daughter back. Your granddaughter. Do you know what will happen then?”

“I can’t say I do.”

“I don’t know either, but it’s not good. I do know it will make him even more dangerous, and we’ll have both of them to worry about. If he is free to work both here and Around the Bend, we’re pretty much screwed.”

“What does that word mean, ‘screwed’?”

Debbie made a snorting noise and covered her face, glancing back at Sean.

Sean ran his hand through his hair. “Umm… it means that right now, I’m not sure it’s possible to do worse than doing nothing. Two months ago we stopped Evelyn, and that delayed things for a while. Maybe we can delay it again. Maybe we can delay it for a few weeks, a few months, or even a century. I’m not going to sit on my butt and do nothing. You keep saying I’ve got power, and that I’m doing it wrong. Teach me what I’m doing wrong. Teach me how to do it right.”

“It’s not something you can learn in one night.”

“I know! You told me that before! I told you I’m a fast learner. Let’s get on with it.”

“You’re tired.”

“And if I go out without your help, I’ll probably be dead. So let me worry about tired.”

Sophronia bowed her head. “Alright. You are still gonna get yourself killed. But maybe it’s like you said, you can learn enough to delay things a little bit.”

“Teach me.” Sean sat down, still feeling dull aches all over his body. He had nothing to take notes, not even his cell phone, but in the darkness he couldn’t take good notes anyway. He’d commit it all to memory. He’d proven he was good at one thing since his mother’s death: being a student.

Sophronia started. “First of all, what you did to that plat-eye worked, but it’s all wrong. It’s like chopping off your own arm to beat it with. We’re going to start you with the old ways, the traditional spells. Have faith in them, and get a feel for how they work. It’s like learning to play the fiddle. You got to spend a lot of time learning where your fingers go and how to play simple songs before you can start improvising.”

“Did you play the fiddle?” he asked.

“Shush! That don’t matter, but yes. Didn’t you say you were in a hurry to learn?”

The bodies were in a separate cart from those who had fallen in battle that day. Even kept in the shade, the stink assaulted Jenny’s nose before they drew close enough to pull back the fly-covered tarp. When Hodson did, Jenny retched, and even Min covered her face with her arm and turned her head. Hodson backed away.

The bodies were in a far worse state than the one Jenny and Jack had found in the woods many weeks ago. Weeks of decomposition wouldn’t have left them in worse state. Shriveled flesh hung in rotting strips off bone, and nothing about them was recognizable but their hair color and clothes.

“Ugh!” Min cried when she regained her composure. “Have someone burn the bodies, Hodson! While they are at it, they should burn the cart, too. Just to be safe, try not to touch the bodies with bare hands.”

“Are they diseased?”

“Not exactly. If it’s what I think it is, it is like they are being digested from the inside out, and you wouldn’t want to get any residual acid on your skin. Even if it’s now been neutralized, it’s gross.”

“Do you know what killed them?”

“It was probably shadlocks.”

Hodson and Jenny stared at her. She shrugged. “In their true form, shadlocks look like frog-people. Even with the really long tongue, except their barbed tongues pump their victims full of venom that works its way through the blood stream and breaks down the cell membranes in animals. In the wild, they’ll eat the goo that’s left.”

Jenny closed her eyes and stepped back into the sunlight. “Okay, I think I am going to barf now. So we have one of those?”

“We have at least three. Something as big as a human takes all the venom they’ve got. It’ll take them days to build it back up again.”

Hodson gingerly moved the corner of the tarp back over the bodies. “Impossible. Are these things as big as people? Then we would have spotted them.”

“That’s the worst news. They are magical creatures. Close up, we see them as normal people. Mostly. It’s not even something they have to think about. Our brains process them as people, nothing out of the ordinary.”

Jenny snorted. “Okay, that’s crazy.”

“It’s true. Trust me, Jennifer, we’ve handled a few creatures even more bizarre than shadlocks. But not many.”

Also stepping into the sunlight, Hodson asked, “So how do you spot them?”

“Several ways. Back home, we use cameras and computers. Those aren’t fooled. If you can get a good look at them at a distance, like through a rifle scope, you can see them for what they are. Up close, without technology, the best option is to have two observers take notes separately on what they see. Because of the nature of the magic, everyone will see them differently.”

Somehow, the description of these creatures seemed more terrifying than anything she’d faced so far. Jenny’s heart simultaneously raced and tried to squeeze itself deeper into her chest. These things would be the next best thing to invisible. “What about the Sight? If they are magic, can’t a witch see what they are doing?”

With laughter that didn’t sound at all amused, Min answered, “That would have made things much easier. No. It messes up our magical sight as well as our physical vision. If you are close enough to see the magic, you are close enough for it to mess with you.”

“Then I think I know who they are. That last group of soldiers that came through last night, the ones from … where was it called? Pelmont? Pelview? Maybe that was it. There was something off with them. I thought I saw something strange, but then it was normal again.”

”You may be right,” Min said. “That being the case, I’ll bet you a week’s pay that the dead soldiers were either from their unit, or otherwise knew everyone in the unit and might recognize these things as impostors.”

* * *

The search for the impostors proved frustrating and went well into the night. Even talk of the three dead men had been forgotten in the excitement and terror of battle, and the anticipation of another conflict to come at any hour. As darkness came, those not assigned to duty quickly went to sleep, catching what rest they could. With some assistance from his deputy, Hodson and the women continued to interview whomever they could. Even a murder investigation took a low priority under the ever-present threat of renewed battle.

The Pellview Militia, they’d learned, had been all but wiped out in the Battle of Sanguine. Only one other member of the Pellview Militia had survived, and he had been found dead before the attack on Dane’s Point. The member of the Royal Guard who had been tasked with integrating four reduced-sized units into a single platoon had also been poisoned. The new sergeant in charge wasn’t even aware the Pellview Militia had been assigned to his platoon.

After the interview with the sergeant, Sheriff Hodson groaned. “This leaves us with four enemy agents of unknown description, who may or may not be together, who may or may not still be in town. Tell me, Min, how did you deal with this?”

Min shook her head. “I was in a different department. I only heard the stories. I know that many years ago, well before my time, we had a team hunting down an entire nest of these creatures hiding in a city of thousands. We took a lot of losses on that one, and our chief inquisitor—one of the most powerful witches in the Coven—killed some humans by mistake. It’s not easy.”

Jenny cast a sideways glance at Min. “I didn’t think the Coven cared much about killing people.”

“We’re not monsters, Jenny. Most of us aren’t, at least. We don’t want ‘collateral damage’. Besides, if it’s a government contract, it’s under scrutiny and looks terrible.”

Resisting the urge to ask if her parents were part of a government contract, Jenny let her frustration out in rhetorical questions. “This is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. Why are these things even here anyway? What do they want? Why are they bothering us?”

Hodson sighed. “Those are exactly the questions to ask. If we can determine their motives and their plan, we can find them.”

“Sabotage?”

“But how?” Hodson asked. “They could have done that this morning, during the battle.”

“Assassination?” Min suggested. “The third victim could have been their intended target.”

“Unlikely. Cornelius Howe was a druggist here in town. He volunteered to stay and help build the defenses and fight when his family evacuated.”

“Defenses?” Min asked. “Which defenses?”

“Building up the walls and the defensive fortifications.”

“Have you investigated his home?” Min asked.

“Have I?” He looked like he’d bitten into something sour. “While your back was turned, perhaps, Miss Min? We are performing the investigation now.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff. I made assumptions. Where was his body found, if not at home?”

“He was found near the northern wall at the beginning of hostilities this morning.”

The lateness of the hour wore on Jenny, but they had to find the spies before the next attack came. Taking a deep breath to recover her focus, she said, “What if Cornelius wasn’t a random target? I think we should check out his house. It’s not like I can think of anything else to do.”

Min nodded. “Why not? If it wasn’t a random attack, then we may find something.”

Hodson grunted. “My job in Dane’s Point was never like this before. Okay. Let’s take a look at Corny’s house.”

He led them through the darkened town to a stone house. In the lantern light, Jenny noted three large chimneys. “I guess Santa Clause had his pick of ways to enter this place.” When Hodson looked back at her in confusion, she said, “Never mind. Dumb joke. It’s just weird that they have three chimneys.”

Hodson shrugged. “The larger homes often have two fireplaces, one for each end of the house. It’s cleaner than burning coal or oil in the winter, and not much more expensive around these parts.”

“Were the Howes rich?”

“The family used to be. A little less now, but Corny always seemed to get by.”

“Hmm,” Min said. She didn’t elaborate.

Hodson tried the front door, but it was locked. “I should have checked the body for a key. Or we can try busting the door down. Unless you ladies have some witchcraft you can do on the door.”

Min smiled. “I might.” Reaching into the bag that Hodson had returned to her in the jail cell, she fished around until she produced what looked like a small pen case. From that, she produced two slim metal tools with plastic handles. She stuck those into the door lock and wiggled them until the lock made a clicking sound.

“What kind of witch are you, anyway?” Hodson asked.

Min shrugged and returned the lockpicks to their case. “A practical one.”

Upon entering the house, Hodson picked a taper from a wall sconce, and lit it with his lantern. Then he used it to light several other lamps throughout the house. The rooms were in pristine condition. There were no signs of trouble, and it seemed Cornelius Howe had been quite the neat freak in his family’s absence. One wall of the living room was dominated by a hearth and a generously sized fireplace. The next wall held two windows surrounded by family portraits in ornate metal frames. While the rooms seemed a little small and cramped by modern standards, it was easily the equal of Vanya’s house back in the village, and included a narrow staircase up to a second floor.

A quick exploration of the first floor revealed a kitchen, with a wide brick oven connected to the second chimney. The kitchen connected to the main house through a short passage with doors on either end, allowing it to be blocked off from the rest of the house. Circling through the rest of the house, Jenny announced, “There are only two chimneys. Maybe there’s a fireplace in the basement?”

“Basement?” Hodson asked.

“Cellar,” Min suggested.

“That would be odd. I don’t think he has an outside access to the cellar, so it would likely be in the kitchen.”

A short exploration revealed a section of the kitchen floor to be a trap door, half-covered by a rug, with wooden stairway narrow and steep enough to be used as a ladder. The cellar was small, with a ceiling only six feet high, sparsely filled with racks of jars, bottles, and a few small barrels and boxes. The cleanliness of the house extended to the cellar. While the containers were covered with a bit of dust and dirt from their underground storage, the rock floor only bore the lightest layer of grit. Behind a rock pillar supporting a metal beam, a five-foot high passage sloped down even further below the house.

Jenny went first, borrowing Hodson’s lantern and ducking down the passage. A short five-foot slope led them to a larger chamber, which resembled an extension of the cellar with several pillars and a large coal stove. The stove fed through a pipe under the lintel, but there were two other sections of ductwork also feeding into the system. Circular fans were mounted at flanges at the end of each duct, attached by belts to a crank operated by a large foot pedal, like the kind used to run old-fashioned sewing machines.

A workbench against the right wall was draped with a stained sheet of heavy-duty canvas. Several tools hung from a rack mounted on the wall above the workbench. Beside it sat a covered metal bin. A shelf along the wall held three peculiar glass vessels that looked like two test tubes linked together into one larger tube. The tube was corked at both ends, but one had a metal cap connected to a thin metal rod that pierced the cork and ran along the center of the tube to the middle where the tubes were joined.

One of the three vessels was cracked. Another had no corks or plunger, but dried wax around the lips of both tubes. Jenny grabbed the one in the most pristine condition. “Anyone know what this is?”

Hodson shook his head, but Min took the glass apparatus from Jenny and examined it. “Actually, yes, I do.”

“What is it?” Jenny and the Sheriff asked in unison.

“A kind of grenade.” Jenny took a step back, staring in horror at the tube in Min’s hand. Min rolled her eyes. “It’s empty, dummy. We called them knock-out bombs in the Coven. You’d hit the cap when you were ready to use them, which would drive the rod through the membrane between the two chemicals. Then you’d give it a good shake, like a glow stick. After that, you’d have several minutes before it lost potency. They weren’t super-effective unless you also had it enchanted by a witch. But then, even outdoors, they are a good non-lethal option to make people or monsters go beddy-bye. These look a little more primitive than ours, but the design is the same.”

“How is that even possible?” Jenny asked.

“Mister Paulson,” Hodson said. “Obviously, Cornelius must have been working with him.”

Min half-smiled. “Maybe this is something that would work against the Queen. Inhaled poisons tend to bypass most magical protections.”

Hodson stroked his mustache. “We should find Leon and ask about his relationship with Cornelius. Maybe he will have an idea why enemy agents wanted Cornelius dead.”

Wandering by the metal bin, Jenny raised the lid. It was filled with what she first took to be dirt. She reached in and touched it, moving her fingers through it. It was thinner than regular dirt, like a mixture of fine sawdust and something thicker and grainier.

“Was this part of those knock-out grenades?” Hodson asked, examining some of the supplies on the shelves in the light from the lamp Jenny held.

Shrugging, Min pulled a flashlight from her bag and turned it on. A brilliant circle of white LED light appeared on the shelves. Hodson stared at the flashlight. “What sort of device is that?”

“Another of those tools I told you about.”

“For witches?”

“For anybody, really. They are common where we come from.”

“Does it use electricity?”

“Of course.”

Hodson whistled. “I saw a demonstration of electricity about three years ago in the capital. Afterward, I listened to two educated men of science explaining how it was impractical for anything beyond parlor tricks. I think I’d like to visit your world sometime and see what else you’ve done with electricity.”

Min flashed him a grin. “I’d invite you, but I doubt we’ll ever be able to go back.”

Jenny closed the lid on the bin. “I plan to go back, as soon as we’ve defeated the Man in the White Suit and Great Aunty Evil.”

“I admire your optimism, Jenny,” Min said as she popped the lid of a gallon-sized jar of clear liquid and sniffed at it. “Yes, our boy Cornelius was something of a chemist. This isn’t water.”

Jenny raised the lantern higher and peered at the tools. There seemed nothing too unusual. The discolorations on the canvas weren’t the suspicious color of blood, and although she didn’t recognize all of the tools, they were clean, polished, and non-threatening. Everything seemed pretty mundane.

Her toe brushed something under the bench, concealed by the canvas. At the same time, she smelled something acrid, the smelly contents of another jar Min had opened.

Jenny raised one corner of the canvas, revealing a wooden box. She folded the corner of the canvas onto the workbench, and set the lantern on it to weight it down. She knelt, and pulled at the box. Light and nearly empty, it slid out easily.

“Jenny, stop!” Min ordered. Jenny froze, immediately trying to sense what sort of danger might have caused the fear in Min’s voice. The light from Min’s flashlight played across the canvas and the part of the box Jenny had exposed.

“Jenny, sweetie. Can you very carefully stand up, pick up the lantern, and step away from the box?”

Jenny stood slowly, still unsure of the threat. Had something fallen on her? Was there something in the shadows of her lantern where she couldn’t see? Was there something deadly in the box? “The box feels empty,” she said. “Why am I…”

“Just pick up the lantern and step back carefully, please.”

Jenny picked up the lantern, and the corner of the canvas slipped back down to drape over the edge of the box. She stepped back towards the doorway. “What’s going on?”

“Just stand there, okay?” Min moved to where Jenny had been, knelt down with her flashlight in one hand, and slid the box out with her free hand. The box had no cover, but from her angle all Jenny could see was what looked like curly wood shavings.

“What is it?”

Min lifted up what appeared to be a brick. She peeled back a corner, sniffed at it, and exhaled. “Something we don’t want to accidentally expose to open flame. This, Sheriff Hodson, is what we call, ‘dynamite.’ There are only three bricks in the box, but they would be more than enough to blow everything and every one of us in this room into the next world.”

The fatigue hit Sean in full force as the sun came up. “Maybe I’m becoming a bit of a ghost myself,” he said. “I’m starting to lose it.”

“Lose what?” Sophronia asked. While her image was still indistinct, she had lost none of her visibility during the course of the night. In the dawn light, what Sean had taken for a strange tilt of her hair proved to be small hat, almost like a fedora, somewhat lighter colored than her braided gray hair. Her white blouse contrasted with the dark skirt and jacket, and a bow around her collar was tied to resemble a rose. She looked to be about fifty, with stark dark-red lipstick that contrasted with her pale complexion. Or was it the pallid face of death on a ghost that had been dead far longer than she’d been alive? In spite of this, she retained some family features and a beauty distinctive of the Rose family.

“Losing focus, I guess,” Sean said. His back was starting to throb again. No matter what the distance, it was going to be a long walk home.

“You done way better than I’d have thought,” Sophronia said. “Ain’t much more I can teach you yet anyhow. You go and practice that.”

“There’s one more thing I need to know.” He stretched, rolling his shoulders and tried unsuccessfully to make himself more comfortable. He really did feel like he’d been used as a piñata yesterday. “You talked about ways to protect myself from a ghost. But how do I protect a ghost?”

Shaking her head sluggishly, Sophronia said, “That’s admirable, young man, but I don’t recollect any tradition for that. I guess the living ain’t too concerned about protecting the dead. In fact, I don’t even know how this graveyard was protected. Some preacher did that his own self, I reckon.”

Sean thought back at Preacher Harris praying at his graveyard, in front of the three ghosts, and the small effect it had on them. It would have taken a hundred preachers to build this graveyard. Even as old as it was, it couldn’t have been around in Leendert’s time. Someone had to know how to protect spirits. Avery, Leendert, and the plat-eyes were all serious threats. And once Debbie was out of range of Leendert’s rage-inducing call, would she just fade away again? Would she recognize him if he crashed the Freshman Party again at the University of West Virginia?

“Thank you, Sophronia, for all you’ve done. I’m going to find a way to stop Avery so you will be safe.”

“You be careful. Use what I told you in case you run into them plat-eyes!”

* * *

They left the protection of the graveyard as the first full rays of sunlight streamed over the mountains. Sean swiveled his head left and right, searching for any telltale signs of a plat-eye, but this time, the path seemed clear. Debbie followed behind him. In spite of the sunlight, she seemed perfectly solid. As they came through the trees to the road, Sean saw she wasn’t the only one. A man and a woman stood in the road, staring into the mountains in the direction of the crossroads. Sean drew closer to see their distorted, violet-tinged eyes to make certain they weren’t living people.

“Who are they?” Debbie asked.

“Dead people. Leendert woke them up with that call of his. The same one that brought you around.”

“They’re creepy.” She snorted. “Is that weird? I’m a ghost, and I spent the whole night hanging out in a graveyard with ghosts. I’m one of them, and they still creep me out.”

“You aren’t exactly one of them. You heard Sophronia.”

“I’m still dead. Whatever she was talking about, it’s a subtle distinction. Hey, you want some advice?”

“Sure.”

“Graveyards? Maybe you shouldn’t do that for a first date next time. Save that one for later.”

Sean laughed. “Really? I thought it was a poetic way to end an evening that began by being attacked by monsters.” Her comments still made his stomach go into knots. Of course, he had to move on and date other people. However, at this moment Debbie was as real as any flesh-and-blood girl, standing right beside him as they walked up the road.

“Where are we going?”

“Hattie’s. She’s got to be worried about me. And then we need to find someone else who can help us, probably down in Branton.”

“Can we visit someone else on the way there?”

Would an extra few minutes make a difference? Not likely. Sean followed her gaze to a row of older houses half-concealed by trees. He recognized one of the houses. He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure about this?”

“No. I really ain’t. But this might be my last chance.”

“Will he be able to see you?”

She shrugged. “If he ever will, it’ll be now.”

“Okay.”

Sean walked with Debbie up to the front porch of Caleb Arnot’s house. Even before he knocked on the outer door, the dogs started barking. When Caleb opened the door, shotgun in his hand, the dogs yelped and fled to the back of the house to hide.

“What the he…” the old man started. He’d not changed much in two months, but he didn’t look like he’d trimmed his facial hair in that time, either. He relaxed when he recognized Sean. “You again. Did you ever…” He stopped in mid-sentence again as his eyes fell on Debbie. “It ain’t possible!”

Sean said nothing. This was a family thing.

“It’s me, Caleb,” Debbie said. “You’ve changed a bit.”

“You ain’t.”

She smiled sadly. “I ain’t been allowed to.”

“I never finished doing what you asked. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t your fault. It’s all wrapped up in a bigger mystery than anyone can solve until the time is right.”

“Won’t you come in?” Caleb asked, opening the door wide, heedless of the whimpers of the dogs behind him.

Sean was about to follow Debbie inside when she turned to him. “Can you give us a few minutes? It’s family stuff, and unless Caleb has changed a lot, he’s not going to feel okay talking about it in front of strangers.”

Sean’s initial thought was to protest and say, “We’ve met!” In a surprising display of maturity he didn’t believe he had, he simply nodded, and said, “I’ll be right outside.” With a nod to Caleb, he let the screen door close behind them. Caleb closed the main door, and Sean tried one more time to get comfortable. Nothing worked. His body still ached. He stepped off the tiny porch and walked around, trying to restore his alertness and work the soreness out of his muscles while he waited.

He’d neglected Debbie most of the night, trying to extract any skill and knowledge he could get out of Sophronia. He felt bad about it, but it was something he’d had to do. This was something Debbie had to do, too. He wanted to just spend every moment he could with her, talking to her, and being with her, but why? For what end? Even if she was here, now, she was gone and would leave again. Leendert’s cry had brought her back prematurely, but this was simply a phantom, like a character in a movie played by a long-dead actress. Besides, after a while, she might completely forget this day ever happened. What was the point?

He rubbed his eyes. Maybe there didn’t have to be a point. Maybe she didn’t have to remember him. Maybe her fate was to haunt WVU for all of eternity, flitting from year to year, the faces of whatever boys she met on those two nights in the fall blurring together in her ethereal mind. The point was that today, this week, they helped each other. She saved his life, and he helped protect whatever was left of her. That was more than what most people did for each other, wasn’t it?

When this was over, maybe he wouldn’t go back to WVU to try to see her again. His obsession over the last year had brought him here, his life had changed, and he’d found what he’d sought for all those months. The mystery girl was still a mystery, but maybe what was left wasn’t something he needed to solve. Perhaps it was better if she did forget him, and while he’d never be able to forget her, it was time to move on.

Wasn’t that some kind of stage of grief? Was he done grieving for a girl who’d been dead his whole lifetime?

When Caleb opened the door and Debbie came out, Sean found his resolution wavering. There was nothing ghostly about her, and she really was beautiful. Caleb’s sad gaze, the watery streaks along his cheeks shining in the morning sunlight, proved that he felt the same way. It was a bizarre way to gain closure. Sean didn’t doubt he’d wear the same expression when it was his turn to say goodbye. Whether it was in a few hours or a few days, it would be too soon.

With one last glance at his sister, Caleb closed the door. Debbie’s eyes glistened, like memories of tears haunting her eyes. Her face brightened, at least politely, as she joined Sean. “Thank you for that.”

Sean offered an encouraging smile. “You had to do it.”

“While there’s still time, yeah. So we’re going to Hattie’s house now?”

“Yeah. That’s okay?”

Her nod was almost too quick and curt to notice. “Hattie was a toddler when I last saw her. And Caleb…”

“I think you saw Hattie two months ago. When you warned her and Jenny that Evelyn was coming.”

“Who is Evelyn?” She blinked as they walked. “I don’t remember. This is so frustrating. I can understand and remember some things so clearly. It feels like I’ve only been gone a few days. I don’t usually even realize what I am, those nights at the university. Now I do, but it’s easy to forget for a few minutes.”

“Is that a good thing?”

She hesitated before answering. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s both good and bad. I’m very happy to be here and to have some kind of control over myself. I feel almost alive again. I got to see you and Caleb. That’s all good. But then it hurts that it could all go away again, and I could forget it all and fade back to … whatever I am most of the time. I think I’d rather completely die, turned into nothing, than go back to that.”

Sean stopped, and gently held her arm. “Please don’t say that. Look, I’m going to do everything I can to help you. There’s someone we know down in Branton. Maybe she can help. Maybe she knows a way to keep you here, like this…”

“That would be even worse!” The almost-tears appeared again, working out of habit. “Stuck like this, half-alive, not truly being able to be here and be part of life? No.”

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“It sure sounded like it.”

She was right. He wasn’t thinking about it, but that’s what he’d had in the back of his mind. A selfish, subconscious wish? “We’re just going to find something to protect you.”

“I’m not the one who needs protecting. There’s no happy ending for me. But there could be one for you. That’s all I’m here for. That, and maybe a little bit of revenge against that rat bastard in a white suit.”

As they resumed their walk to Hattie’s, Sean said, “I wish I knew how to succeed in either of those. What could I do to stop Thadeus? The best I can hope for is staying away from Avery so he can’t use me to go through the crossroads.” He shook his head. “I can see ghosts. All that did was put me on Avery’s menu. That, and wake up Leendert, I guess.”

“Which woke me up, too. You say you aren’t important, but why then is Avery after you, and why was the plat-eye trying to kill you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if the plat-eye needed a reason.”

“Sophronia said you have power.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know how to use it. I’m not like Jenny. I can’t just sing a song and make everyone around me healthy and protected. I’m nobody.”

Debbie wrapped her arm around his as they walked. Perhaps it was his imagination, but she felt warm beside him. “Annabelle was my best friend growing up. There weren’t many friends to choose from around here, I guess, but in spite of our age difference, we were almost inseparable. I was practically adopted by her family. I saw what she could do. She was better than Mama Norton at almost everything by the time she was fifteen. I learned two things, though. First of all, I saw how witchcraft didn’t come easy. Maybe one or two things were easier than others, but Annie had to fight for everything else. She couldn’t complain to her mama, because I think Mama Norton was a little jealous of what she could do. They had some nasty knock-down drag-out arguments between the two of ‘em. Because she didn’t want to talk to her mama about what happened, and how much it hurt sometimes, she talked to me instead. Even after she got married and we didn’t spend as much time together, she talked to me about it.”

“You said two things. What was the second thing you learned?”

She grinned. “I learned that she was human, and that she needed me. That even though I couldn’t even imagine doing what she could do, she was just plain folks, like me. She was vulnerable. So, I reckon learned not to fear witches. I didn’t even fear the Man in the White Suit. Looking back, I s’pose I should have learned to fear him a bit more than I did. The point is, these witches might be magic, but they ain’t invincible. One little non-magical person like you or me—or I guess, just me—can do a lot.”

Sean smiled, and stopped. The church was now in sight down the road, and Hattie’s trailer just up the hill above it. He turned to Debbie and said, “Thanks. I probably needed to hear that.”

She smiled back at him, and they just looked at each other. She looked like she had that night almost a year ago, wearing the same clothes that she’d warn to the freshman party, when he’d had trouble keeping his eyes off her. When she caught him staring. When she’d written a number on his hand with a pen, and the ink had smeared by the time he’d entered it into his phone, causing him to search desperately for her for the next two months.

He wanted to kiss her. In his imagination, she looked like she anticipated it. His stupid emotions couldn’t understand that she was dead, gone, and nothing could happen between them. He turned looked back at the road, feeling himself grow hot with shame and anger, although he didn’t know what to be angry at except his own heart.

“We should get going.”

Debbie let go of him. “Right. Yeah.”

As they hastened out of the house, Jenny said, “Okay, so Cornelius was making explosives. Was that what Leon used this morning?”

Hodson shook his head. “No. That was Commander Crane’s doing, not Mr. Poulson’s. The Wardens make those devices, primarily to protect the Citadel. They enclose them in a metal case that breaks into pieces when it explodes.”

“Did they look like the bottom of a cast-iron skillet?” Jenny asked.

“I suppose.” Hodson’s answer was enough to satisfy Jenny. At least one mystery was now solved.

“Wow,” Min said. “So you guys don’t use electricity, but you have claymore mines. Okay, here’s a theory: Cornelius was secretly playing for the other side, placing those masked, unmarked bricks of explosives inside the defenses, ready to go off at the right time, maybe with a gunshot from a defender who knows where to aim, crippling our defenses in a surprise attack. He was showing the shadlocks where he’d hidden the explosives when he got cold feet, and realized he was working with some very scary people. They killed him before he could turn himself in.”

Hodson shook his head, still staring at the house. “That doesn’t make any sense, for two reasons. First of all, the best time to commit sabotage would have been during the battle this morning. Secondly, Cornelius has been a loyal citizen his whole life. His family, too.”

Jenny took a deep breath of the night air, and noted it was probably much closer to dawn than midnight. She stifled a yawn. “He probably thought he was being loyal. I doubt there are many people on the other side who believe they are aiding the daughter of their biggest bad guy. They think of Delcina as a rebel, don’t they?”

Hodson sighed. “Probably. I took a bit of convincing before I came around, too.”

Jenny said, “Okay, could he have just been smuggling explosives for the bad guys? Do only the Wardens have explosives?”

Shaking his head, Hodson said, “The Wardens know how to manufacture that particular weapon, and I think they need a witch to detonate it. However, we’ve used explosives for mining for a generation or two, and gunpowder for I don’t know how long.”

“Studying the parallels in development between our worlds could be worth a million doctoral theses,” Min said. “Any other ideas for why Cornelius was building explosives in his basement, or why the spies killed him?”

“I wish I did,” Hodson said. “Right now, I’m afraid of seeing walls explode during the next enemy attack. That’s a bigger concern than finding the spies. We should conduct a search to see if we can find any of the bricks. I know it’s late, but may I ask you two to get started?”

“Where are you going?” Jenny asked.

“To see the council. I’m taking one of those bricks with me. Regardless of what Corny was doing, there could be an entire box’s worth of explosives hidden somewhere, and we need it found. Quietly, without alerting the spies, if we can.”

Jenny shrugged. “Sure. We can look.” Min said nothing as Hodson jogged back to the center of town. Jenny turned to her and said, “So, um, do we start at the northwest corner and work our way east? That’s closest to the mountain and the forest. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Min answered. “I think I shouldn’t have accepted Delcina’s deal.”

* * *

The original walls around Dane’s Point had been erected years ago to defend against giants. Constructed of stone and heavy timbers at around ten feet in height, topped with metal spikes, they would have provided only a temporary inconvenience to the giants Jenny had encountered. Over the last weeks, the army had fortified them, bracing and repairing the wall in spots. Ramps at the bottom led to platforms three feet from the top that defenders could stand on to fire over the wall.

“Our best bet is to look underneath the platforms where they meet the wall and along areas of new construction,” Min said. Jenny walked underneath the platform and held up Hodson’s lantern. Min, a short distance away, pulled out her flashlight and searched where a thick log brace connected diagonally with the wall. A guard patrolling along the wall stopped and looked at them for several seconds before continuing his rounds.

“Are you sure that’s smart?” Jenny asked. “Showing modern technology around?”

Min shrugged. “I was dragged here by a bunch of assholes with modern rifles and body armor. If the other side doesn’t care, why should we?”

“Because it draws attention?”

Min hesitated before saying, “I’ve never minded being the center of attention. Most of the time, at least. Right now, it’s a good tool for the job, and these batteries won’t last forever, anyway.”

Jenny was about to say something about being the center of attention when two more guards approached. One carried a firearm that resembled a shotgun. The other held a weapon that looked like an axe set on the top of a short spear. “Who goes there?” the one with the gun demanded.

“I’m Min, this is Jenny. We’re here under Sheriff Hodson’s orders.” Min looked to Jenny and asked, “How are they armed?”

Jenny reported the gun and the axe-spear thing. “Halberd,” Min said, which Jenny took to mean the name of the weapon. “Facial hair?”

Jenny shook her head. “The one with the halberd, or whatever you called it, is looking a little scruffy.” Taking careful note herself, she asked, “What is their eye color?”

Min flashed her light over their eyes. The men protested, covering their eyes from the glare. “Both brown,” Min answered. “Footwear?”

“Both have boots. But halberd-guy’s boots have a big old hole on the end. I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“What’s going on here? What are you doing?” the guard with the shotgun demanded.

“Testing you. I think you passed,” Jenny said, trying to smile brightly for the man.

“You’re one of the witches,” the guard with the halberd said.

Min nodded at the young man, and motioned them away. “Yes, you know we are, and we’re rather busy inspecting this wall. You don’t want to interrupt us any further, right?”

Jenny sensed the faint glow of magic in the air. She held her tongue until the two men grudgingly continued their patrol and were out of earshot, then turned to accuse Min. “You just… did something. You Obi Wanned them or something.”

“Yes. I have a slight talent in that area.”

“That’s… immoral!”

“Is it? Jenny, nothing happened that wasn’t going to happen eventually. I simply ended the discussion more quickly so we can finish our job and save a whole lot of people’s lives. What’s immoral about that?”

It didn’t feel right, but Jenny didn’t feel like arguing about it. At least she hadn’t noticed any more magical glow, so Min hadn’t used magic to end their argument, too. As they continued to inspect the wall, Min asked, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Jenny avoided looking at her. “What kind of personal question?”

“Your mother was Amelia Rose, wasn’t she?”

Jenny lowered the lantern, and stared at Min. “Where did you hear that?”

“Hear it? I don’t wait to be told things, Jenny. If you go beyond a certain point in the Coven, it’s bad for your health. I know plenty about Jessabelle, and that you are her cousin. I know who Amelia was. Everyone knows who Amelia was.”

“Then why ask me?”

“That wasn’t my question. That was me trying and failing to be polite. I just wanted to know what she was like.”

“What she was like? She’s my mom. I love her. The Man in the White Suit, whatever name he goes by, murdered her.”

Lowering both the flashlight and her head, Min said, “I know. I understand if you don’t want to talk about her.”

“It’s not that. I do, but I’ll cry. I’ve had this talk with Grandma Annie, too.” Jenny took a deep breath against the tears she knew would come. “I never knew her real name. She was always Patricia Morgan, but Mom and Mommy to me. I never knew she was a witch, or part of the Coven, or anything like that. I knew she’d been born in West Virginia, and she’d let the names of Uncle George and Aunt Hattie slip a few times. She was just a working mom. I thought it was weird how they taught me not to get great grades in school, when everyone else’s parents were pushing them to get straight A’s. It only made sense… after. I miss her and my dad every day.”

“I understand. Kind of.”

“You never met her, did you?”

“Me? No. She was a little before my time.”

“You said everybody knew who she was.”

Min nodded. “Talking about her was not taboo, but it wasn’t something you did within earshot of others. As a witch, you can’t really avoid talking about what she did. So we politely pretended that we were talking about two people. Maybe we weren’t really pretending; she’d changed. The Inquisitor did so much to shape the Coven into what it is today, and Amelia Rose was the witch who escaped the Coven.”

“You mentioned that name when you told the sheriff about shadlocks. What does that mean?”

“Are you sure you want to hear about this?”

Jenny glared at her over the light from the lantern. “You started it! Were you just trying to mess with me, or were you really going to tell me something?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Inquisitor was a title they used through most of the twentieth century for the head witch of the Coven. Irony, I know. It was probably deliberate. We were growing in power, gaining a lot of influence thanks to Thadeus, and even starting to get government contracts to quietly eliminate certain threats. When the previous Inquisitor died, the boss appointed your mother as the next Inquisitor. In spite of only having been in the Coven for three years, she was easily the most capable witch in his service.”

“So she was the head of the Coven?”

“Technically, we serve the boss, but he’s not usually very hands-on. For all practical purposes, yes, she led the Coven. She grew it. Modernized it. She was the Inquisitor for four years before she betr… before she retired. After that, between becoming more legitimized and wanting to forget about her, we got rid of the title. She was the last Inquisitor.”

“Why did she leave?”

“Nobody knows for sure.”

“What do you think happened?”

“That is a much better question. The incident I mentioned with the shadlocks might have broken her. Some say she met a man—your father, presumably. He stole her heart, and led her astray. Some say that in all the effort to bring the Coven into the modern world, she uncovered something that her predecessor had done, and was furious. The rarest rumor of all, the one we are frightened to talk about, is that the boss tried to kill her because she refused an order, and he failed.”

“What do you believe?”

“I don’t know. Maybe all of them. I’ve wondered what it would take for someone to leave the Coven. You don’t just leave. Especially someone like the Inquisitor who had personally… who knew exactly how hard the Coven would fight to keep its own. Had she changed as a person, or did something push her too far? I thought about it too. Everyone does, I think. Everyone who has been there long enough to really understand what we do probably considers how they can get out. Hardly anyone tries, and nobody ever succeeds. Then Leon escaped.”

Jenny felt her stomach knot up as she prepared to ask the next question. Confrontation was never her thing. She wanted to know more about her mother’s secret life, every morsel of information that Min might have. But something more important bugged her. Min kept referring to the Coven as “we.” Was that a force of habit, or did that indicate her true loyalties?

“What about you?” Jenny asked. “What if the Coven appeared to you today and welcomed you back, no blame, no punishment? Would you go back?”

Min didn’t answer at first, but raised her flashlight to study the wall. Jenny politely did the same, taking the silence to be a yes. After a few seconds, Min said, “I really don’t know. A month ago, no question. But it’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated about it? They are the bad guys. You see that, don’t you?”

“Nothing is ever black and white, Jenny. For the last twenty years, they have been the only family I’ve known.”

Jenny scowled, and turned to face the wall. “Good for you. They murdered mine.”

Min didn’t try to respond. The two searched the wall in silence, until they neared the corner. Min saw it first, and had Jenny lower the lantern. The lamplight illuminated several dynamite charges at knee level packed into the wall, blended into the rest of the base with rocks and clay.

Jenny backed away, muttering, “Oh, crap!”

Min took a step backward as well. “You can say that again. I guess we have Hodson’s proof.”

The two patrolling guards returned moments later. “We should tell the guards what’s going on, have them bring Bachan and the others.”

Min nodded. “Yes. But we still have to be discrete. Once the bad guys know we have figured out what they are up to, they are likely to blow things up prematurely and make a break for it.”

“You think so?”

Min shrugged. “It’s what I would do. Yes, it would be less effective, but bad timing is better than no timing at all.” She turned to the guards. “Hey guys? Would you be dears and go to the council headquarters with a message from us? It’s very important.”

As Jenny waited for a response, she noticed the guards were using different weapons this time. Instead of the halberd and the shotgun, they had very nice rifles slung over their shoulders. They also held bottles and rags in their hands, like they were drinking. It took a moment for these details to register before she shouted a warning to Min. “It’s the shadlocks!”

Min’s eyes widened, and she looked over her shoulder, but there was nowhere to run thanks to the walls. They were literally cornered. The guards lunged at them, pushing them back into the wall and sweeping the chemically-scented cloth over their faces. The cloth muffled part of Jenny’s scream, but perhaps it would be enough for the real guards to hear and come running.

Struggling and kicking, she felt herself grow light-headed. Her protective spell didn’t work against this. The fake guard was strong, and she weakened by the moment. She struck at him with the lantern, but it dropped from her grasp and sputtered out.

Somewhere in the darkness behind the two thugs, someone’s voice rasped, “They know about the explosives. Shoot out the ones you can on the far side to create a distraction. We’ll escape this way.”

“Which of these is the witch that the queen wants?”

“How should I know? One or the other. We’ll take them both.”

Panicked and feeling her consciousness slip away, Jenny renewed her fight, swinging arms and legs at the figure that had her pinned, forcing the burning fumes into her nose and throat. She felt as though she were hitting a stone statue, now, and her attacks seemed to fly in slow-motion.

Her last thought before the darkness engulfed her was a hope that Min had done better.

Hattie’s look of joy when she saw Sean changed to suspicion as Debbie followed him into the house. “Oh. Hello there,” she said, eyes darting toward Sean’s for some clue. “You look familiar, but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Hattie Rose.”

Debbie stepped forward, eyes widening to match her smile. “Oh, heavens. You look so much like her! I’m a friend of your mama’s.”

Hattie tilted her head back. “That seems unlikely. My mama must have been gone since you were…” She squinted, and said. “Wait. Are you…?” She covered her mouth with her hand, as if physically stopping the words before she uttered the impossible.

“Debra Arnot. The last time I saw you, I think you were drinking from a sippy-cup.”

Hattie let her hand drop. “You aren’t… um… This is going to come out wrong. You don’t look like I expected.”

“I’m not sure what I expected, either.” Debbie held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you again, Hattie.”

Hesitantly, Hattie took her hand and shook it. “Physical manifestation. Sean told me about how you met, but I thought it was just—well, I didn’t think it was like this. I’m sorry. I’m so pleased to meet you. Again. My mama spoke of you often. She loved you like a sister. Can I…?” She stopped again. “Sorry.”

“About what? What were you going to ask?”

“I was going to ask if I could get you something to drink.”

“I don’t need anything, but Sean does. He hasn’t eaten since we ran into each other yesterday, and if you have any healing juice like your mama used to make, he could use that too. He got into a fight with a plat-eye. He won, but only just.”

“I was about to ask about your clothes, Sean. I don’t remember them being in that state.” She took a small Mason jar out of the refrigerator, and handed it to him. “Just take a few sips. More won’t help you any.”

Sean sipped the drink, and made a face. It tasted like hay, plus a little dirt. “Are you sure this is the right stuff?”

Hattie nodded. “Fresh batch, industrial strength. I made it last night because I was afraid you might show up looking, well, like you do now. Have one more sip, and then it might be best to wash it down with a glass of water. You may be a little dehydrated. Then I’ll fix you up some breakfast.”

Sean sat down in a chair, and Debbie sat in the one beside him. While Hattie made scrambled eggs and sausage, they recounted the experiences of the last day. Sean let Debbie retell the end when Hattie handed him a plate, while he ate enthusiastically. Finishing the last morsel of egg, he stood up to wash his plate, and his head started spinning. He lost his sense of orientation and balance, catching himself on the edge of a counter. Hattie took his plate before he dropped it, but his fork fell to the floor with a clang. Debbie held him by his shoulders as he swayed backward. He wasn’t about to fall, but he appreciated her help.

“That could be the healing juice,” Hattie said.

“Or just that he was up most of the night,” Debbie said.

“Or me standing up too fast,” Sean said with a half-hearted laugh. “Okay, sorry about that. I think I’m going to sit down on the couch for just a minute.”

“Uh-huh. You do that, kiddo,” Hattie said.

He was asleep less than a minute later.

* * *

He awoke in his bed, and it took him a minute to remember what happened. A look at the clock revealed that it was now late-morning, and that he’d slept over two hours. He got up, poked his head out through the door and looked down the hallway. In the living room, Debbie and Hattie were deep in discussion. Debbie looked up at him, smiled, and offered a tiny wave. Hattie nodded in his direction, and then turned back to her conversation.

He took the opportunity to shower, shave, and put on clean clothes. He no longer felt any pain from his insane ride up the mountain. Hattie’s juice had done the trick. What the nap, the juice, and the shower hadn’t done, the smell of coffee from the kitchen did.

“How do you like your coffee?” Debbie asked, pouring a cup.

“Um, black, of course. I’m a macho college student! Uh, former, I guess. Now that I’m just a bum, maybe I should start taking cream?”

“All out,” Hattie said. “But I got some milk I can put in there if you want.”

“I’ll stick with what I know. Thank you, Debbie.” He accepted the steaming cup. “I’m sorry I passed out on you both. I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

Debbie rolled her eyes. “I reckon I’m just a boring date. Almost every time I see him, he falls asleep.”

“I thought you didn’t remember…?”

“I remember that part. Or I think I do, after you and Hattie helped me put some pieces together.”

“We were discussing options,” Hattie said. “We thought maybe y’all should go visit Bella down in Branton. You can take my truck.”

Sean blew on the coffee. “I was thinking that, too. Did you talk to her?”

“No. She still isn’t answering her phone. I left her a message, though. I said it was important, but I didn’t give any details. Honestly, I think this will blow her mind.”

“Blowing people’s minds. Now that’s something I always aspired to do,” Debbie said with a slight snort.

Taking a sip of the coffee, still slightly too hot, Sean asked, “Are you coming with us, Hattie?”

“Not this time. Believe it or not, Everett Harris and I are working together to try and settle things down around the church. He’s afraid he’ll have to cancel his sermon on Sunday if there’s still a specter causing trouble in his basement. Apparently they never covered haunted churches when he went to Bible College or whatnot, so he’s having to wing it.”

“Wait a minute. He’s letting you help him?”

“Help him, yes. Not the other way around. He’s letting me be his eyes and ears, but that’s it. Otherwise, he’s handling everything by the book. The Good Book.”

When Sean finished the coffee, he borrowed Hattie’s keys to her truck. Debbie rode in the passenger seat. The alarm dinged softly when he turned on the car.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“You aren’t wearing your seat belt.”

“It can tell?” She fiddled with the belt until the alarm quit chiming. “These aren’t like the ones I remember.”

“Yeah, they’re mandatory these days. Probably a good idea. I haven’t really driven much lately. I didn’t want my father’s help getting a car.”

“Why not? Couldn’t he afford it?”

“Sure he could, but I didn’t want to feel obligated to him after I graduated.”

They made their way out of Maple Bend and on to the thin, weaving, poorly-maintained road down to Branton. “So what do you mean, not being obligated to your pa?”

“My grandpa on my mom’s side was pretty rich. He set up a trust fund for me in his will, for when I graduated from college. It’s not a ton, but it’s enough to be a really nice supplement while I’m getting myself set up. The thing is, my dad had ideas on what to do with it, too. He talked to lawyers and kept promising me that when I graduated, they could get at the entire fund all at once. Oh, and he had businesses opportunities I could invest in! I don’t know if he could legally do anything or not, but I didn’t want to deal with the pressure.”

“So you cut off contact with your pa just so you wouldn’t have to say no to him?”

“It makes me sound like a real jerk when you put it that way.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m just trying to understand.”

Sean jerked at the steering wheel to dodge a pothole as he rounded a turn. Debbie didn’t move, but sat primly in the seat as if the vehicle was stopped. Once he’d recovered and returned to the right side of the unmarked road, Sean said, “It wasn’t just about the money. It wasn’t easy growing up with him once Mom died. We didn’t get along much. My half-sister, from his first marriage, made life bearable for a while. But I knew she’d be out of there as quickly as she could, too. I finished High School in three years, and then finished college in only three, so I could get out of there.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?”

“Probably. He came to Branton to try to talk me into going back with him.”

“Don’t you think that it could mean he cares about you, too?”

Sean didn’t look at her. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

As they drew close to Branton, his phone announced a number of text messages. Debbie looked at the dashboard. “Is that me again? Because of the seat belt?”

Sean snorted. “No, that’s my phone.”

“Somebody’s calling you?”

“Somebody left me some messages. We don’t get any reception in Maple Bend, so they’ve piled up. That’s a lot for just three days though.”

“Who left you messages?”

“I don’t know. I can’t check when I’m driving. I’ll take a look once we get to Bella’s.”

“So it’s like a tape recorder?”

“Kind of, but it’s all electronic.” Glancing at her, he asked, “We’re a few miles from the church now. How are you feeling?”

“About as fine as I can be, I reckon. I ain’t sure, but I don’t think I’m any worse for being further away. At least not yet.”

“I can’t imagine Leendert could awaken every ghost in the world.”

“I’d reckon it was the end of the world if he did.”

The end of the world might not be that far off, he thought. Perhaps he’d helped usher it in. He narrowed his focus to his immediate task at hand: protecting Debbie. She was special, she was vulnerable, and no matter how doomed and useless it was, he had feelings for her. Then, maybe, he’d figure out a way to take down Avery, if it wasn’t too late. After that… well, he’d worry about that later.

Sean pulled into the dirt patch that served as Bella’s driveway. He turned off the car, opened the driver’s side door, and hesitated. It was nearly noon, and the still air festered like a moist soup. Bella’s air conditioner was silent, as was everything else around the house except for the tiny buzz and crackle of the power lines running along the road behind them.

Turning to Debbie, he said, “Maybe we ought to wait before I introduce you to Bella. She was a little jumpy about spirits the last time I was here. Can you hide? Go invisible or something?”

“Invisible? Sorry, I never read that chapter in the ghost handbook.”

“There’s a handbook?”

She rolled her eyes, but ducked down under the dashboard. “Is this okay?” she asked with a teasing glint in her eye, one eyebrow cocked at an angle he didn’t think would be possible on a physical body. He snorted and shrugged. “It should only take a couple of minutes for me to explain things.”

He exited the truck and closed the door, not looking back at Debbie. He approached the front door and knocked. The door creaked open a sliver from the force of his knuckles. It hadn’t been fully closed. “Hello? Bella?” he called. “Are you in there? It’s Sean. Hattie’s friend.”

He knocked again, and the door swung open a little more. “Anyone home?” After another half-minute, he poked his head in through the gap in the door. The rooms beyond were dark, but in the dim light through drawn shades and the open doorway, he noted the open boxes on the floor, half-filled with canned goods and clothing.

He closed the door, and returned to the truck. Debbie sat up as he opened the door. “Nobody home?”

Climbing into the driver’s seat, he said, “I think they took off in a hurry. She said a lot of other people were doing that, too. I can’t blame her for doing the same.” The fact that they’d left half-packed boxes on the floor bothered him. Perhaps they were coming back for another load later, or they’d left to get more boxes. There were dozens of perfectly reasonable explanations, and he really wanted to believe any of them. Something in the pit of his stomach didn’t believe any of them.

“Maybe she called you on your pocket-phone tape recorder?”

“Hmmm… maybe.” Sean pulled out his cell phone and glanced over the messages. There were text messages from his sister, several emails, and a record of three missed calls from his father. “It doesn’t look like it.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how that is supposed to work. I don’t recognize this world anymore.”

“It was a good idea. I’m so used to being in one of the few places that still doesn’t have reception that I forget about my phone now.”

“Do you know anybody who might know where she went?”

Sean snorted. “I really don’t know anyone in Branton. I haven’t been down here much.” He started the truck engine. “Maybe someone at the store would know.”

“There’s a store here? This place has grown into a major city in the last forty years.”

Sean exhaled as he pulled out of the dirt driveway. “And it’s turned into a ghost town in the last four days.”

The pain and jarring motion wouldn’t let Jenny sleep any longer. She wanted to keep sleeping and dreaming, to luxuriate in unconsciousness for just a few more minutes before…

Before what? The pain hammered into her repeatedly, and with each rhythmic shake, recent memories broke through the fog. They’d been attacked…

She awoke with the next impact, as a shoulder drove into her midsection and the rest of her smacked against the filthy back of the creature carrying her. Her hands, bound together by the wrists, flopped loosely below her head. She immediately kicked and pulled free but for one foot still held by her captor, slipping off his shoulder and face-planting onto the ground. As she rolled over, she discovered it was still dark, and that they were somewhere in the forest.

Three figures loomed over her. One of the figures carried Min’s limp form over its shoulder and ordered, “Gag her before she casts a spell!”

“Do you have another bottle of the sleep poison?”

The one holding Jenny’s leg grabbed her, forcing a dirty rag into her mouth and pulling it taut before she had the presence of mind to resist. “No, Krethan had the last one. Maybe he’s behind us.”

The third shadlock, gasping for breath worse than the two who had been carrying them, said, “We should wait for him, brothers.”

“No.” The one holding Min pointed somewhere deeper into the forest that surrounded them. “We are still too close to the rebels. Krethan knows where we were going. He’ll meet us if he still lives.”

The shadlock tied the gag even tighter, so Jenny felt sure it was going to split the corners of her mouth. Her protection spell must have worn off during the journey. How long had she been unconscious? Not long, as the sky wasn’t much lighter than it had been when they discovered the dynamite in the wall.

“We should go. Vakhan, can you keep up?”

The one breathing heavily said, “Don’t go too fast, and I will keep pace. I have survived worse than gunshots.” He turned and looked over his shoulder. Jenny took that to mean it was the direction of the town. “Why has the battle not started?”

“It is still dark. The battle was supposed to begin at sunset, whether we stole the witch or not. It is too early. The reinforcements haven’t arrived yet.”

“How did they learn about the explosives?”

“Because Krethan was an idiot and killed Howe.”

“Howe threatened to tell about the explosives!”

“Krethan was an idiot. If he is dead, he deserved it! Gorga, pick up your witch and go!”

Jenny struggled against the shadlock. In the faint half-light she could make out features that indeed belonged more on some sort of lizard or frog than a human. The shadlock, Gorga, pulled out a knife from a sheath at his side, and pointed it at her throat. “We need to bring you with your tongue intact and enough breath to use it. Nothing else. You squirm like that any more, and I’ll take off a limb to stop you. Got it?”

Jenny froze, and then nodded quickly. The creature was not bluffing. Of that much, she felt sure.

“Good. We go now.” With impressive strength, he tossed her over his shoulder like a sack, and the three captors took off deeper into the forest. Every step in their jogging gait hurt. Without muttering the words aloud, Jenny recited the song of protection in her mind. It took the edge off the pain, but did little else. She tried to see where they were going, to get some idea of landmarks in the pre-dawn half-light, but even in broad daylight it would have been difficult with her obscured, upside-down vantage point. If she could speak, she would have begged to be allowed to run on her own, not that it would have done any good. She couldn’t have kept pace in the dark.

At times, she’d catch a glimpse of Min on the back of the shadlock that seemed to be the leader of the three. She couldn’t see the woman well enough to see if she was unconscious or awake, or even if it really was Min.

The creatures seemed to run for hours, but the difference in the light meant that it couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen minutes. The pre-dawn light had grown just enough that between it and the remaining moonlight, the forest was now revealed around them, ghostly forms of trees in a black-and-white world.

Vakhan, who had been falling further behind, collapsed thirty feet behind them. Gorga stopped and turned, and without a word dropped Jenny onto the ground. The third shadlock dumped Min in a similar manner, and they returned to their fallen comrade.

“Vakhan, we are almost there, brother,” Gorga said.

Jenny could barely hear them.

Vakhan wheezed. “Gunshot worse than I thought.”

Shaking his head, the leader said, “All your juice is coming out, Vakhan.”

With a voice that sounded like he was choking on drink, Vakhan said, “Avenge me, brothers.”

“We will,” the leader said. “When we get victory, we will skin and eat all them humans what shot at us.”

Min slid her way beside Jenny, inching closer as the shadlocks talked. When she grew close enough, she untied the bonds around Jenny’s wrists and whispered into Jenny’s ear, “Can you run?”

Jenny nodded, terrified. She reached behind her head and tugged at the knot to loosen her gag. “Have you been pretending to be unconscious this whole time?”

There was barely enough light to illuminate Min’s sly grin. “It’s our best chance.” Min motioned downhill with her head as Jenny untied Min’s wrists. When the cords dropped to the ground, she said, “On three, okay?”

Jenny nodded. Before she could begin counting, distant sounds of gunfire echoed through the hills.

Gorga whooped. “You hear that, brother? The battle has started! They are going to kill all those rebels, burn them out of the town, and we will all feast on the survivors!”

Vakhan offered a low moan in response. Min glanced at Jenny, and said, “Forget the count. Now!” The two women rolled to their feet, and took off into the trees down the mountainside.

* * *

As they tore through the woods, Jenny knew they would fail. Their dangerous flight could be stopped in an instant by an unseen root or branch, and it wasn’t much faster than the jogging pace set by the laden shadlocks. Their route took them obliquely in the direction of the sound of battle, bringing them closer to both friends and enemies. It was unlikely they’d come into contact with either before the shadlocks caught them, but anything to throw a wrench in their captor’s plans sounded better than doing nothing at all. And there was always a slim chance they could shake their pursuers.

Min took the lead, although it didn’t take long before her endurance began to flag. Their route took them into a gully, which they followed for a minute before heading up the other side. Behind them, when they could hear anything over their own heavy breathing and crashing through underbrush, the sounds of pursuit followed.

Tree branches caught Jenny’s hair, tugging hard enough to slow her down. She pushed forward, snapping twigs and bringing tears to her eyes from the sudden pain. Focusing on the blur in front of her that was Min, she pushed ahead, ignoring the tears and her burning lungs.

Without warning, they emerged onto a road. The left side ran generally in the direction of the coming sunrise. Before Jenny could run too far in that direction, Min grabbed her arm. “We have to get off the road,” she gasped between breaths. “Quickly.”

They ran down the slope on the other side of the road, and Min took cover behind a tree. Jenny slid into position next to her and hid flat in the weeds. Her lungs were on fire, and she covered her mouth and tried to steady her breathing. The sound of each ragged breath seemed loud enough to alert the entire mountainside, but she gradually got it under control.

She could no longer hear their pursuers. She looked over at Min, who made tiny head movements and slowly raised her finger to her lips.

The distant sounds of battle roared in the distance. Had the shadlocks blown up parts of the walls, or had Hodson warned everyone in time? Were her friends dying in the renewed battle, or were they winning the day? Would she ever see them again?

The sky lightened by degrees, and in spite of the fighting, birds began to sing with the promise of dawn. A fly buzzed nearby. She looked at Min, whose face was clearly visible now in the light. Min looked back at her, and her face softened, the beginnings of a genuine smile taking root.

A gunshot split the morning. Birds flew off, and Jenny frantically searched. Less than thirty yards away, a cloud of white smoke drifted upwards and thinned out.

Min gasped, and her jeans darkened around a hole below her knee. She immediately covered the hole with her hands, squeezing to keep pressure on the wound. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Run! They only need one of us! Run and get back to the town and tell them what happened!”

“No!” Jenny said. “They’ll kill you!”

“They’ll keep me alive for a while! Just run! Quickly, before it’s too late.”

In response, Jenny closed her hands over the top of Min’s and recited the healing song. She lacked anything like Hattie’s healing juice, but just as she’d done back in the medical tent, she felt the spell flow through her into Min. It might not perfectly heal the wound, at least right away, but the most important thing was to stop the bleeding and start the healing. When she finished the song, she felt she’d accomplished that much.

She hadn’t even noticed the shadlock draw near. He stood off to her right, his rifle aimed at her head. Now that she knew what to expect, and there was enough light to make him out, she saw something that resembled his true form. His huge eyes were spaced too far apart to be human, and tracked independently of each other. His nose consisted of two nostrils below and between his eyes, and his obscenely wide mouth bore thin lips. While his skin was dark but somewhat flesh-toned, he still resembled a frog or a lizard as much as a human.

She waited, watching the barrel of the rifle out of the corner of her eye. She hadn’t seen him reload the weapon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have done so in the time it took for her to heal Min. There was no reason he couldn’t have.

The second shadlock appeared a minute later. “Good job, brother,” it said. “Let’s cut off their feet so they can’t run this time.”

“You got more cords to tie off ankles so they don’t bleed out and die first?”

The humanoid shook his head. “Nope. Maybe I go look for the ones they dropped?”

“No. We just take them to the meeting place.”

“They’ll be meeting us down the road, yes? We can just watch for them here.”

The first shadlock nodded slowly at the recommendation. “You keep watch for them. When they get here, we are done. We can go back to the town and see if our army leave us anyone to eat.”

Spittle formed at the side of the second shadlock’s mouth. He waved and said, “Yes, brother!” and practically skipped up the slope to take a hidden position to the side of the road.

Jenny glared at the shadlock holding the rifle. “What if our army is victorious? They’ll come looking for us.”

The creature shrugged. “Then Gorga warn of that, too. We kill you and run. Best for you if our side win. Now be quiet and do not move, or I pick which one of you I give over alive.”

It was the casualness in his voice that chilled Jenny. Min looked up, no longer in pain, but in spite of her forced nonchalance, fear was in her eyes. How much fear would it take for Min to betray her, Jenny wondered, but she dismissed the thought. A few minutes ago, Min had been willing to sacrifice herself so Jenny could escape. That meant something.

As they waited, the sounds of battle faded to nothing, with no indication of who had won. The first rays of direct sunlight peeked over the eastern ridgeline when Gorga announced himself to someone, and a group approached.

“I guess this is it,” Min said. “We gave it a good try.”

“It’s not over yet,” Jenny said.

Min sighed. “You know, I wish I could have known your mother.”

“My mom?”

“Yes. Not when she was the Inquisitor, though. I wish I could have known the woman you knew.”

“Don’t start talking like that, Min.”

Min stared straight ahead and said nothing more. The group came down the slope, many of them in armor. A woman walked among them, wearing a simple gray cape with a drawn hood. One of the witches?

The man wearing the most metal in his armor—who would undoubtedly be the one who would cook inside it in the heat of the day—glowered at the shadlock. “You were supposed to bring them a mile down the road!”

“We all here now, right?” the shadlock responded.

“Too close to the enemy, fool! We’re in danger here!”

“Not our problem. We bring you two witches. Pay us, and you take them a mile down the road if you want. We gonna go back to the battle.”

Two of the other men in the retinue rolled their eyes. The leader frowned. “If you think we’re going to pay you full price after you endangered…”

The woman placed a delicate hand on the man’s arm. “Just pay it, Saul.” There was something about her voice that seemed familiar, but Jenny couldn’t place it.

The man grimaced, but untied a pouch from his belt and handed it to the shadlock. The other one, Gorga, raced to its side as it eagerly opened the pouch and stared at its contents in the morning light. Without another word, the two slung their rifles over their shoulders and left.

The heavily-armored man glowered at Jenny and Min. “These two had better be worth it,” he muttered.

“Saul, Saul, Saul. Did Zainus teach you nothing?” She inclined her head in the direction the shadlocks had departed. “You must take good care of your tools.”

Saul lowered his head. “Yes, your highness.”

Jenny’s heart shot into her throat. “You’re the queen.”

“Yes. And you must be one of Jack’s little friends from the other side. A distant relative of mine, maybe? I’m so pleased to meet you. I am Queen Taliel. At least, that’s how everyone knows me.” She lowered her hood and smiled like a predator.

A moment earlier, Jenny couldn’t have thought it possible that her blood could chill any more, but it did. The woman’s hair was wrong. She had aged a couple of years, maybe, but it wasn’t enough to give Jenny more than a moment’s confusion before she recognized her. She’d seen a picture of this woman. She’d met this woman, at least someone who looked like her, twice.

“Debra Arnot,” Jenny said.

Sean pulled into the most remote corner of the empty parking lot at Dyl’s Super Stop. Debbie grinned. “Oh, I think I do know this place. Dylan Hopper used to have a little gas station here. It wasn’t this big, though.” After a glance around, she added, “I think we’re parked where his house used to be.”

“I’m going inside. It’d probably be safer if you kept hidden.”

“Safer? I’m already dead, remember. Maybe you should stay in the truck, and I’ll go in and ask why everyone is gone.”

“There are lots of things that can still hurt ghosts, Debbie.”

“Not nearly as many as can hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Why? ‘Cause you are a big, tough guy?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Oh. I get it.” She smirked. “You don’t want to be seen with me in public.”

She was teasing, but poked holes in his arguments. The image of her being torn apart by the plat-eye the night before was still fresh in his memory. There wouldn’t be anything he could do if someone like Avery attacked her, and the only thing he could think of was keeping her hidden.

“Fine,” he said. “We can go in together.”

“Will you open my door for me?”

“Um, sure.” He walked around to her side, opening the passenger-side door. “Sometimes the girls in college got angry if a guy opened a door for them for some reason.”

“I ‘preciate you being the gentleman,” she said. “Really, moving things around takes a lot out of me. It don’t feel right, neither.”

“Oh.”

She touched him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Sean. Not just for the door.”

The convenience store was empty. The television played a daytime talk show, where a guest was explaining simple household penny-pinching tricks to hosts who earnestly feigned interest. Debbie lurked near a rack of magazines and videos while Sean approached the counter and called, “Is anyone here?”

A bearded man in his late twenties emerged from the backroom, shoving his phone into his pocket. His name tag indicated his name was Ray and that he was an assistant manager. “Hey, sorry, didn’t hear you come in. Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, maybe. We’re from up the road, and we were just wondering…” Sean realized his question sounded stupid, but in months of trying to hunt down clues about Debbie’s origin, he’d grown comfortable with awkward questions. “Things seem really quiet around here. Did everyone go off on vacation?”

“No, it’s just really quiet around here lately.” He shrugged, looking out the windows out to the street.

“Why?”

Ray shuffled his feet. “Where you from?”

“I’ve been staying with a friend in Maple Bend all summer.”

Ray hunched over the counter, and said, “Okay, then you know all about them monsters they found up there, yeah?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah.”

“So you know they are real, right? Not like what the news is saying about it being a hoax.”

“Yeah. I know they are real.”

“Well, we got one here in Branton, too. Maybe it came from up the road, but folks think it’s living out by the old lumber mill.”

One giant got away, chasing Jessabelle in the fight against Evelyn on this side of the crossroads. “What kind of monster? How big?”

“Big, I reckon. Nobody knows.”

“Why haven’t people gone out after it and hunted it down?”

“They did. Twice. They ain’t never came back. Worse, there are some new folks in town who may be working with it.”

“Working with a giant?”

“A giant?”

Sean backpedaled. “Or whatever those things were. So what do you mean?”

Ray shrugged. “I don’t know. There have been trucks down there though, and it’s been closed five years.”

“How did two hunting parties disappear without it being on the news? Didn’t anyone call the cops?”

“There were cops in the second group, dude. I thought it would be all over the news by now, like those monster bodies they found up in Maple Bend. But nope, nothing. Now folks are scared and a bunch of ‘em are taking off until things settle down.”

“What about you?”

“No place to go. No place close, anyway. But I’m fine. I got myself plenty of guns and supplies. I don’t got to worry.” He patted his hip, and for the first time Sean recognized the bulge under the man’s shirt near his belt. “Three-fifty-seven. Reckon that would do some damage even to one of them monsters.”

“Maybe, if you shot it in the right place. Excuse me a minute.” Sean pulled out his cell phone, found his father’s number, and called. Ray watched the television from the counter, and Debbie was nowhere to be seen.

His father answered. “Sean? Where are you?”

“Dad? You aren’t still in Branton, are you?”

“Yes. I am. I told you I wasn’t leaving. I just want to talk…”

“Not now, Dad. Look, you have to leave town, as soon as you can. I can’t really explain, but you need to trust me on this.”

“I’m leaving. I just wanted to talk to you. I tried to go up and see you yesterday, but nobody knew where you could be found. Look, I’m sorry. I just want to see you for a few minutes, and then I’ll leave.”

“Okay. Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

“Not over the phone. I’d really rather see you. I promise it won’t take long, and then you can go back on doing what you are doing. After we spoke the other day, I felt terrible. I talked to your sister, and I spoke with some other people who helped me realize what I was doing. I’ve terminated my arrangement with the detective. I just want the chance to apologize face-to-face.”

“Dad, now is not a great time.”

“I know. And it never will be. Look, I’m not going to try and convince you into coming back with me. I promise. I just want to see you one more time. Next time, you choose when you want to visit, okay?”

“Fine. I’ll be at the Super Stop. Same place as last time.”

“Great. I’ll finish packing, and I’ll be there in about five to ten minutes. I love you, son.”

As he closed the connection, Sean’s first thought was that something had mind-controlled his father. Had someone like Evelyn put the whammy on him? Maybe that power could be used for good instead of evil. But then, why would someone do that on Sean’s behalf? No, something else must have happened. He doubted the argument the other day would have done the trick. So what had changed?

Sean checked the messages from his sister. She’d messaged him several times over the last two days. Without a response, it was a running monologue, with sentences often separated by hours of time.

“Just talked to Dad. He said he spoke with you, and is very upset. Not sure if he’s more upset with you or with himself. Hope things work out. Message me when you have a chance!”

“Spoke with Dad again for a long time. Maybe he’s coming to realize how stupid he is.”

“Dad called again tonight. Said he tried to find you again, but you were missing. I hope you are okay. Said he talked to some people about his attempted suit against your grandpa’s fund, and they convinced him to dismiss it. He also dismissed the detective. Maybe he’s serious?”

“In case you get this in time, Dad is planning on leaving West Virginia, but wants to see you. Your call. Drop me a line when you can. Love you!”

It sounded somewhat legitimate. Sean wandered back to the refrigerated section and found Debbie staring through the glass at the racks of drinks. “We never had a grocery store like this in Branton,” she said. “I don’t recognize most of these. Can’t say I recognize most of anything. I grew up near here, but this is a foreign country to me.”

Sean scratched his head. “Yeah, I guess energy drinks might be kind of new. They have a lot of caffeine and some other stuff.”

“It’s not the drinks. I don’t belong here. My time is gone. My brother is an old man. My best friend is gone.” She dropped her eyes.

Sean reached to touch her arm, but she flinched. He let the motion drop. “Annie’s not gone. She went Around the Bend. I’ve been there. I’ve met her. She was doing great. Better than great. She helped us fight giants and an evil witch named Evelyn.”

“A world away.”

“But not that far. Avery said something about a spirit being able to cross through the portal more easily than a person. Maybe you can go there. I can tell you how. If you could slip through, you could even warn Annie what’s going on…”

She shook her head. “You still don’t get it, do you? What you see ain’t me. Not anymore. This is that Leendert feller’s doing. I ain’t been like this since before that night. The rest of the time, I’m half-awake, at best. As far as I know, I’m going to be that way again in a few hours. Maybe in a few minutes. I’m going to lose it all, all drugged up with death. I don’t want that. Not again.”

“What are you saying?”

Ray appeared, staring at them along the shelves. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize there was someone else here. Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to ignore you.”

Debbie smiled. Even though Sean knew it was forced, it was beautiful. Dimples formed on either side of her smile, and her eyes lit up. “It’s okay. I get that a lot.”

Ray offered a two-finger salute, and wandered off toward the fountain drink machine. Sean turned back to Debbie, keeping his voice low now that he had been reminded that someone could overhear. “Look, maybe you won’t change back to the way it was. Maybe this is permanent.”

Her eyebrows raised in the middle, and her smile grew infinitely sad. “Oh, Sean. I know you meant to cheer me up. You don’t even realize how much worse that might be.”

It felt like a knife slipped between his ribs. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay. I do. Finally, I do. Remember, you don’t need to protect me.”

The door chimed, and Sean walked around the shelving to take a look, while Debbie faded back into a corner. Sean’s dad glanced around the store, caught sight of Sean, and shuffled forward. “Hey, Sean.”

“Hey, Dad. So, we’re here.”

“Yes.” He raised his arms, and Sean moved forward to give his father an awkward, brief hug. “I just wanted to see you again, Son. I wanted to apologize in person.”

Sean took an involuntary step back. “For what?”

“Oh, you know, for everything. I spoke with Lacy, and she not-so-gently reminded me what a jerk I’ve been since you decided not to come home after graduation.”

“Lacy convinced you of that?”

He moved his head from side to side with a wince. “Maybe I just needed to hear the truth one more time. You, Lacy, and my lawyer are all telling me I’m being an idiot, and I’m finally beginning to believe it. I just wanted you to know that I agree it is your life to live. You are welcome to come back whenever you are done with…” He waved his arms in the air. “Whatever this is.”

“What is this, Dad?”

“You tell me! I’m not the one wandering around West Virginia trying to find himself.”

“No, I mean what’s this.” Sean pointed to his father and to himself. “You and me. Here, in a convenience store. And you, suddenly giving in after years. What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to keep what’s left of our family talking to each other, Sean!” He clenched his fists and looked down at the floor. “That’s what it’s always been. Lacy said I was being controlling, but I was trying to keep what’s left of us together. It’s down to just you and me, now. Do I have to have an angle?”

“You always do. You’re the serial entrepreneur in search of the quick buck.” He regretted it as soon as it left his mouth.

The only sound in the store came from the television on the wall, blaring an ad for some kind of prescription medicine. “Side effects may include headaches, indigestion, respiratory problems, diarrhea, and vomiting,” the announcer spoke in soft staccato. “Consult your doctor…”

“I’m sorry,” his father said. “Maybe it was a mistake coming here after all.”

“Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

His father shrugged, the right corner of his mouth rising into a lopsided smile. “I think you did. And you aren’t wrong. I just…”

The figures moving outside through the windows didn’t register on Sean’s attention until the door chimed, and Thadeus stepped inside, flanked by two burley men in untucked button-down shirts.

Sean’s jaw dropped even lower when his father turned to the Man in the White Suit and asked, “Tad, what are you doing here?”

The queen tilted her head to one side. “Who?”

“A girl. From our side. It’s her body, isn’t it?”

Taliel pursed her lips together. “Amusing. Perhaps so, but you are too young to have known her. I’ve had this body for far longer than the previous resident. I never knew her name. I’ve done my best to keep this one preserved, young, and nearly indestructible, but I do not have to maintain it much longer. Soon, I’ll be back to my old self again, and I’ll be queen of much more than this insignificant, backwoods kingdom.”

Jenny glanced at her minions, who didn’t show a flicker of surprise. “So everyone knows who you are.”

“These do. And who is this?” The queen motioned to Min.

“Min Lee,” Min responded. “I used to work for your father.”

“Oh, is that supposed to earn my mercy? Especially when you use the past tense?”

Min shrugged. “If it will keep me alive a little longer, sure.”

The queen chortled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. So who is going to tell me how to find the crossroads back? I’ve waited too long to be reunited with my father.”

Jenny pursed her lips, and concentrated on the face of the girl whose body was stolen by this witch. She thought of her parents, murdered by the man this woman spoke so fondly of. She thought of Grandma Annie, forced into self-exile to stop this woman from ever coming through to heal her despicable father. She thought of Natalie Daniels of the Tritonville Irregulars, optimistic and reassuring, lying broken and lifeless in a cart minutes later because of this woman’s war. She hated Taliel, more than she’d ever hated anyone or anything in her entire life. Nothing would change that. This woman was her enemy.

Taliel clucked her tongue in admonition. “Are we throwing a tantrum? So sad. I’m not moved. Now, tell me, how do I get to the crossroads to pass back into your world?” Without a song, herbs, or anything like it, Taliel’s witchcraft surrounded her in Jenny’s Sight as if she were a halogen light.

“No. I’ll never tell you,” Jenny insisted.

“Of course you will. Tell me now.” The electric-blue of magic crashed over her like a tidal wave, smashing through any kind of magical resistance Jenny could picture. Some tiny, conscious part of her mind curled up in a fetal position deep inside, concentrating on the hatred that built by the second. But every other part of her defied her will and confessed everything to the queen. Detailed directions from the village to her grandma’s cabin, and from there up the stream to a clearing, with all the exacting details of where to stop and how to find the crossroads. Once they knew where to stop, it was easy. There would be a tree with a Mason jar hanging from it that formed the seal preventing the Coven from coming through the way Jenny and her friends had done. No doubt her father was nearby, waiting for her.

The queen politely asked questions, sometimes repeating questions from her men, and Jenny answered them freely. Tears of shame ran down her cheeks, spawned by that tiny part of her refusing to join in her body’s rebellion. None of it mattered. In the end, she detailed the route back into Maple Bend from the other side. Even the hateful, shamed part of her felt weakened, wondering why she struggled so hard and so vainly against this woman. These things were so much bigger than her, so why shouldn’t she cooperate?

Then it was over. The magic faded, and Jenny was herself again, or as much herself as she might ever be again. Violated, weeping, realizing she’d betrayed everyone. Her grandmother. Her friends. Hattie. Even the memory of her parents. In a few minutes, she’d done more damage to all of them than a thousand years of healing and protection spells would ever be able to make up for. It would have been infinitely better for all of them if she’d died under the goat-man’s axe.

Over her sobs, the queen asked Min, “Do you have anything to add, Min Lee?”

Min sighed. “I think she covered it. All I know is that the Coven is actively trying to open the crossroads on the other side. That’s your father’s organization. I imagine he’ll meet you within hours, if not minutes, of your arrival.”

“This information is useless to me,” Taliel said.

“I wasn’t high on the totem pole. Nobody told me much.”

“Too bad. I see no reason to spare you.” She turned to four of the men in the group. “The rest of us will be leaving for Hobbfield. Give us fifteen minutes to return to the encampment, then take these prisoners to our original meeting site. Dispose of them as the shadlocks would have. This means pieces of them, particularly some organs, should not be found with their bodies. Make it look like they were partly eaten and abandoned. This should be enough to alleviate any suspicions from the rebels that anything else happened. They will still believe they are winning this war when I return with an army beyond their imagination.”

“I can’t wait to see it, Your Highness!”

With that, the queen departed with the bulk of her retinue, leaving four men to guard Min and Jenny. Min looked defeated, but Jenny was beyond caring. She hoped they’d kill them quickly, painlessly, so all this could be over. She wouldn’t have to live long with her weakness and betrayal.

The men refused to look directly at them as they stood watch, counting down the minutes. The sobs kept coming to her, as well as the horrible memories of what she’d done. They replayed over and over in her mind. They sickened her. The queen knew exactly where to find Annie, and would likely murder her as she passed by, all because Jenny didn’t have the willpower to hold her tongue.

Most of the fifteen minutes had elapsed when Min sat up and put her arms around Jenny. Jenny didn’t want to be comforted, and tried to shrug Min’s arms off, but Min held firm, and moved her lips to brush against Jenny’s ear.

“I’m not snuggling you, dummy,” Min whispered. “If we work together, we can survive this.”

“What’s the point?” Jenny sobbed, certainly loud enough for the men to hear. “We’ve lost. You heard what I said!”

The men looked away and ignored the girls as well as each other. Guilt and the last vestiges of their humanity imposed voluntary blindness.

“That wasn’t you,” Min said. “One day, you’ll get over your guilt and realize the truth. Believe me, I’ve been there, in more ways than one. You had no more power against it than you’d have the strength to swim against the rip current. There’s nothing you can do about that now. Work with me, and maybe we can warn the others. And maybe even serve some payback.”

Jenny lowered her head, nearly touching it to the ground. “You could make me.”

“I could encourage you. I can’t make you. Not like that. But I need you with no doubts, with everything you’ve got. Just give me that for a few minutes, okay?”

Clenching her eyes shut, Jenny raised her head, and gave a quick nod. “Good,” Min whispered. “I need you to see what protections the men have.”

“Can’t you…?”

“Not as well as you. Tell me what you see.”

Jenny let herself go numb. The pain in her heart didn’t fade, but she managed to ignore it. She let her eyes go slightly unfocused, and looked over the four guards. Objects on their fingers radiated the familiar electric blue light, nowhere as strong as what the queen had done, but strong nonetheless. Stronger than anything Jenny could make. One of the men, the leader, pulled out a pocket watch and glanced at it. It also glowed, but only faintly.

“Rings,” Jenny whispered.

“Rings?”

“Two each. And that pocket watch. A little.”

The leader closed the pocket watch. “Four more minutes.”

One of the other guards asked, “Can’t we just go now and get this over with?”

The leader frowned. “Do you want to explain to the queen how we violated her orders because we were impatient? She said fifteen minutes.”

The other guard regained his professional bearing almost immediately, but still refrained from looking directly at the girls.

“I can’t steal a ring,” Min whispered. “Any ideas?”

Despair threatened to overflow the numbness she felt. Her thoughts were fuzzy, interrupted, unfocused. She forced herself to concentrate. One thing at a time. “Bite it off? Just like… No. One of them probably protects them from injury.”

“True. But I like the attitude. Can you tell which ring might do that?”

Jenny shook her head. “Can we do that?”

“Some of us can, or so I’ve been told.”

The leader glanced at his pocket watch again. “Okay, that’s enough whispering.”

Min glared at him with the purest expression of disgust Jenny had ever witnessed. “Or what? Are you going to slaughter us here? That will screw up the queen’s plans too, won’t it?”

“We can make your last few minutes really painful.”

Sneering, Min said, “Better not draw blood. We have some hella good trackers, and they’d realize something was up.”

The leader rolled his eyes. “Just stand up. We need to leave in a minute.”

They took their time standing up. Min exaggerated trouble standing from her gunshot injury, which probably didn’t take much of an acting job. Jenny helped her, and Min again brought her lips close to Jenny’s ear. “Unless those are specially made, rings won’t sustain their magic long. You need sympathetic materials.”

“And if they are specially made?”

“Then we’re screwed. More screwed. If you have anything subtle to throw at them, now would be the time.”

“I have nothing,” Jenny said. She almost amused herself with the double meaning.

“I might. But I won’t have much when we’re done.”

The leader scowled. “I said that’s enough!” He raised a pistol, one of those old-fashioned flintlock pistols from the 1700s, the kind that Revolutionary soldiers or the Three Musketeers might have used. “It’s time. Let’s move.”

Min moved slowly, with a pronounced limp. The leader seemed unimpressed. “Come on! Move!” He waved the muzzle of the pistol at her.

“Hey, I was shot not a half-hour ago. If I push it, I am going to reopen the wound and start bleeding like crazy. I’ll leave a trail of blood, and probably pass out halfway there, forcing you guys to carry me as a dead weight.”

“Just move!” he commanded. They first climbed the slope up to the road, Min making gasps of pain with every movement of her leg. Jenny doubted it was entirely pretend. Min looked at the guard nearest her, and said, “You are big and strong. How about you give a girl a shoulder to help me?”

The guard shook his head. “That’s not happening, girl.”

Min pouted and turned to another guard. “How about you? A little hand? I don’t mind getting there as slowly as possible, but your help would expedite it and make things less painful for me.”

Jenny caught the sight of the little sparks going from Min to the guard. Tiny, unfocused, but they were magic. The ring on the man’s left hand flared slightly with each one, defusing the suggestion. If it weakened, Jenny couldn’t immediately tell. She had to admire Min’s skill, however. While it lacked the overwhelming, horrifying power of Taliel or Evelyn, it flowed from her naturally. No herbs, no songs, just her egging someone on to do things her way.

In high school, several girls in Jenny’s grade had that talent, without magic. They were just stubborn and persuasive. Perhaps they were witches in their own way, but Jenny hadn’t known what to look for back then. Perhaps witches were far more common than Jenny had imagined. Maybe every woman had a tiny bit of witch in her. Except Taliel. She was all witch.

“Look, there are four of you,” Min continued, working on the leader this time. “Surely you can spare one of these men? We’re just two girls. Are we that dangerous?”

“Maybe,” he said. “You’re witches, after all.”

“If we were witches, wouldn’t we have threatened you by now? Or cast some kind of spell? Have we actually done anything? We’re just two girls, who you are about to murder. Certainly you can show some compassion.”

It was working. The ring on the leader’s left hand had clearly faded in glow under Min’s constant, subtle barrage.

Min switched to another target, continuing her litany of suggestions and requests. Sometimes she’d just ask them to talk, trying to get them to say something about themselves. As she made the rounds, the rings grew weaker. But so did Min. They’d walked only a quarter mile down the road when Min’s face grew paler with sweat from more than just physical exertion.

“Can we shoot her right here?” one guard asked. “We’re far enough; we can drag her to the clearing after that. At least then she’d shut up.”

“No.” The leader pointed at Jenny. “Help your friend out. And I want both of you to be silent.”

Jenny put her shoulder under Min’s arm. “Is it working?” Min asked. “It looked like it was working.” Jenny nodded and gave Min a reassuring smile. “Great,” Min said. “Now I just need time to rest. Or you can hit them with something powerful to make them sleep or turn them into frogs or something.”

The leader roared at them again, but Jenny ignored it as she considered. Her grandmother’s frustrated lessons on using magic to persuade others finally made sense, but it was too late to use those. She was much stronger now than the day she’d used her spell to scare the bandits’ horses in Hobbfield, and if she had the necessary ingredients handy, she might be able to scare one or two of these men. Not enough to make a difference. Jenny could heal, she could protect, and she could see things. Everything else was weak to nonexistent. Jenny was a poor witch, and Min remained their best bet. Probably their only bet.

“She’s in a lot of pain,” Jenny said to the men. “Let me heal her. I can’t do much, but I can ease her pain.”

“No,” the leader said. “We’ll drag her the rest of the way if we have to.”

They were going to be dead in a few minutes. Why let the queen get away with allaying suspicion? If they were going to die, they might as well die in the best way to warn the rebels what had happened.

Strangely, with this decision, Jenny discovered new resolve. She would give Min a fighting chance, if nothing else. Feeling new depths of power that she’d never known even when her life was in immediate threat, Jenny began the protective song her mother had taught her as a child. With everything she had, she channeled the words into an iron-clad protection around Min. It wasn’t healing, but it was something.

“Stop that!” the leader howled. Looking around briefly to the others, he pulled his flintlock pistol and pointed it at Jenny’s face. “Stop that or I’ll kill you right now.”

Pausing between spells, Jenny smirked. “Go right ahead. I’m sure the queen will forgive you.” She began the healing spell once more. She felt slightly dizzy, but felt no reason not to hit Min with everything she had. It would give her a chance to escape, protected from a gunshot or two, so she could warn the others.

The leader scowled in momentary indecision, his pistol lowering a few degrees. The other three men kept their guns drawn, but not aimed directly at her, watching their superior’s face. Then he said, “Under the circumstances, I think you are right. She will. I’m sorry.”

The gunshot rang out.

“Coffee, Mr. Williams.” Thadeus said in answer to the question. “I wanted a cup of coffee.” He turned. “How are you doing, Sean? It’s been a couple of months.”

Sean staggered back a step, and leaned on the front counter for support. “Dad, how long have you known…?”

“Mr. Farnsworth? Oh, just a couple of days. He told me you were working for him.”

Thadeus chuckled. “An unpaid internship. But as long as we’re here, I wanted to extend an offer to make the job permanent.” He grinned at Sean. “High pay, great benefits. I promise. Nothing less, after the fine job you’ve done up in Maple Bend. Your outside-the-box thinking may have accelerated our timetable by as much as a week. I would never have thought of enlisting that old Dutchman’s help. Actually, I couldn’t have, even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t think the Dutchman likes you very much.”

“Nope, he never did. Not like he can do anything about it. Ol’ Avery’s been having a field day up there. Tonight, he’s supposed to pay a visit to Sophronia, with the help of a couple of my people. Oh, yes, Sophronia and I go back a ways. I know all about her. I figured you do, too, as Avery told me you spent the night there.”

Sean’s father raised his eyebrows and looked at Sean. “Sophronia? Who is she?”

Sean didn’t take his eyes off the Man in the White Suit. “It’s not like that, Dad.” He really didn’t care what his father thought it was like. Avery going on a field day? Harvesting souls? The terrible dream came back to him, with Avery preparing to devour his mother and Debbie. Only now, he’d indirectly given Avery the feast, hadn’t he? No wonder Avery hadn’t had time to come after him. Avery didn’t even need him anymore.

Thadeus continued as if he hadn’t heard. “After that, he should be good and ready to head ‘Round the Bend before the night is over. How about that? So what I’m trying to say, Sean, is that my offer has some pretty short time limits. You know what’s at stake. You have some extraordinary potential and a chance to influence how this will all go down. Think about it.”

Sean reminded himself that this devil, in spite of his grandfatherly guise, was a vicious murderer. The clean-cut men behind him were likely brutal thugs, and the bulges under their loose shirts suggested they were more than ready to get deadly. The Man in the White Suit was more dangerous than both of them. Jessabelle had said he’d broken Evelyn’s neck in an instant, without even touching her.

Jessabelle. Had she escaped him? Or had she joined him, hoping to work from inside the organization? Or was she dead now? “First, tell me what happened to Jessabelle.”

The Man in the White Suit shrugged. “I wish I could. We don’t know exactly where she went, but she is no longer with us. And our organization is no longer interested in her. As long as she stays out of our way, she’ll be fine. I can’t say the same for some of your other friends.”

Sean’s father backed away from Thadeus, closer to Sean. “Mr. Farnsworth, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that sounded a little like a threat.”

“Then it’s a good thing you know better, Mr. Williams.”

Ray appeared just behind Sean. “Hey, there. Are these men bothering you?”

“It’s fine.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “I’ll bet. Look, gentlemen, I don’t want any trouble here. But I am going to have to ask you to leave.” His right hand strayed to his belt, his thumb tucked under his shirt just behind the holster.

“No trouble at all,” Thadeus said with a broad smile. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “Roger? Fix the problem.”

Before Sean’s mind could register what was taking place, one of the thugs whipped a pistol from its concealed bulge and fired three times at Ray, the shots going off so quickly it sounded like a single gunshot. With a surprised, terrified look, Ray yanked the revolver from his holster, heedless of the fact that he now had three holes in his chest. Before he could aim, the bodyguard fired three more shots.

Ray stumbled and fell onto his back, his revolver clattering onto the floor next to the front counter. Blood pooled on the floor as his face paled and his eyelids fluttered closed. Sean dropped to his knees at Ray’s side, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. As usual.

Thadeus began laughing. “Tell me if you see his ghost, Sean. The poor guy probably doesn’t even know he’s dead.”

Sean’s father sputtered, backpedaling until he bumped into the counter. “What… what have you done?”

Thadeus laughed again. “That ought to be pretty obvious, Mr. Williams. Now, Sean.” His mask fell, and his face reddened with anger. “My patience is at an end. I am through taking chances. You are going to help Avery this very afternoon, or you are going to lose people important to you on both sides of the crossroads, starting right now. I am getting my daughter back to heal me, pronto, and then I am going to take my rightful place in both worlds. There is nothing you can do to stop that, but you can be alive to see it all happen, and maybe even have a place in things. Or you can die, along with everyone you care about. It ain’t that tough of a choice, boy.”

Nearby, a hazy form coalesced, as Sean expected. Translucent and faint, Ray looked down at his body. He didn’t look sad, so much as disappointed. “I’m sorry, Ray,” Sean said out loud. “This shouldn’t have happened. None of this should have happened.”

Spirit Ray shrugged and offered a two-finger salute to Sean before fading from view.

Sean took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. As he wished he’d done with Evelyn, as he’d practiced, he willed himself to be calm, visualizing each step. He took Ray’s revolver from the floor, spotted with Ray’s blood, and with both hands pointed it at Thadeus. As he squeezed the trigger, his target’s scowl turned into surprise. The gun boomed and bucked in Sean’s hand, but he brought it back to the point at the string tie in the middle of the white suit and fired again, five more times until all six rounds were expended. It seemed impossible that he could miss at this range, but two rounds smashed into nearby shelves, and one shattered the window behind Thadeus. The two men had their pistols trained on Sean, but they didn’t shoot. Perhaps they had a standing order not to kill Sean until Thadeus gave the order. Three red, growing stains on the white suit would make it impossible for the order to be given.

Or so Sean thought.

Thadeus coughed, blood spraying from his mouth to soak into his facial hair. Voice rattling, he laughed, and coughed again. “I did not expect that. You’ve got bigger balls than I gave you credit for, boy.”

His henchmen glanced at him with wide eyes as Thadeus unhurriedly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the blood on his face. “Really stupid, though.” He folded the handkerchief, and let it drop to the floor. “This day keeps getting more interesting. It’ll make a good story to tell my daughter when she gets here.” His voice grew stronger with every word.

Sean let the revolver drop into the puddle of Ray’s blood.

Thadeus wheezed as he took a deep breath. “I take it nobody ever taught you back in college what ‘immortal’ means. It’s something I am, and something you ain’t.” Looking over his shoulder at his two thugs, he said, “We’re done here, boys. Kill them both, and let’s go.”

Debbie emerged from behind the shelves with almost casual grace, plucking a gun from one of the men’s grasp like pulling a dandelion from the lawn. The second thug turned to aim the gun at her. She grabbed it by the muzzle, and he struggled to point it as he fired. The bullet passed through her, perforating a can of fruit cocktail on the shelves. The slide, caught by her hand, didn’t fully cycle, causing the brass casing to jam halfway out of the port. The man squeezed the trigger again, but nothing happened. Debbie pulled the gun from his hands as well, and pointed the first gun at the group.

Thadeus roared with laughter, and started coughing again. “Do I know you, girl? Wait, I do, don’t I? You are the dead girl from Morgantown, ain’t you?”

“The one you murdered.”

Thadeus raised his eyebrows. “Oh. That’s what you think you remember, huh? Good enough. Roger, contact Arrogat, and send him to take care of these two. I’ll have someone wake up Avery and send him for the ghost-girl and whatever’s left of the men. We’ve wasted too much time here.” He turned and left, his two henchmen following him. One rushed ahead to open the glass door for Thadeus, and the push caused bits of glass to cascade from the bullet hole in the window beside it. The other spoke into a radio as they stepped outside.

A strangled gasp escaped Sean’s father. “What just happened?” His eyes darted around the store, lingering momentarily on Ray’s body, and then continuing in frantic motions, reliving what had just happened and trying to process it all. He raised his voice and repeated, “What the hell just happened?”

Sean didn’t answer. It would take too long, and if his father couldn’t believe his own eyes, he wouldn’t believe Sean, either.

Debbie let the guns drop to the floor. “Who is Arrogat?”

“Knowing Thadeus, I don’t think it’s the name of a puppy dog. Whoever or whatever it is, we don’t want to hang out long enough to find out. We need to get somewhere safe, though. Fast.”

Don Williams stared at them both in disbelief. “What are you talking about? There’s been a murder! We need to call the police and report this!”

“Even if they showed up, they couldn’t help,” Sean said. “I’m just wondering why Thadeus didn’t kill us both. He doesn’t need a gun to that.”

Debbie answered. “Maybe getting shot weakened him a bit. Plus, killing someone by magic ain’t something a normal witch would want to do if they wanted to stay conscious the rest of the day.” At Sean’s stare, she shrugged and raised her hands. “Hey, I grew up around witches. We talk about these things.”

Don frowned. “Witches? Look, we’ve got enough problems without talking nonsense.”

Debbie made a snorting noise. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell him about me just yet.”

Looking at the broken window, Sean said, “They could have a sniper or something waiting to take our heads off.”

Debbie smirked. “Then I can find out for you. I’d like to see them try to take my head off.” Moving to the door, she looked out into the parking lot through the glass. “I don’t see anyone. Not the Man in the White Suit. Not anyone.”

“We should get going, then.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Not here.”

Don followed his son to the door, dazed and blinking. “Were they the mafia? Organized crime? What have you gotten yourself involved in?”

“It’s a little hard to explain, Dad.”

“There’s a dead man on the floor, and you just tried to shoot a man. I deserve an explanation!”

“I didn’t try to shoot him. I shot him.”

“He must have been wearing a bulletproof vest or something.”

Debbie shrugged. “Mama Norton always said that the Man in the White Suit was immortal. I was never sure if that was true or not. Guess I know now. It was kind of funny seeing the look in his eye when you shot him.” She flashed a grin over her shoulder at Sean and pushed at the door. She stopped, shoulders slumping, and her grin disappeared.

Sean stepped beside her and opened the door. The cracked parking lot harbored no additional vehicles under the sun’s brilliant glare, and the chorus of insects and birds provided a background of white noise that masked anything unusual about the day. No sirens approached, no bystanders screamed or pointed, and aside from the broken glass, there was no sign that a man had just been shot to death inside the convenience store. In some ways, it felt more surreal that the universe was just continuing on normally, as if nothing had ever happened. The birds and bugs didn’t care that Thadeus was on the cusp of victory. It was none of their business.

As Sean opened the door to the truck, waves of heat poured out. Debbie hopped in on the driver’s side, heedless of the temperature. She slid across the median console and into the passenger seat. She didn’t bother with the seat belt.

Sean reached in and turned on the ignition without climbing in, and activated the air conditioner so the vehicle could cool down before he got in.

“Where are you going?” his father asked.

“I don’t know, yet, but you should go too, Dad. Get out of here, and Thadeus will probably ignore you.”

“Come with me. He can ignore us both. You can bring your girlfriend, too.”

“It wouldn’t work.” Or would it? Was he that high of a priority with the Man in the White Suit? Maybe not at the moment, but eventually he would be. After Thadeus had killed Sean’s friends and achieved his goals. From what little he understood, Thadeus was unlikely to forgive a little thing like defiance or shooting him in the chest. “I have to stay.”

“And do what?”

Great question. “I don’t know that, either.”

“Then why not…” A crack sounded in the distance, interrupting him. It sounded like a tree splitting. Then came the sound of footsteps. Very large, very heavy footsteps. Footsteps that haunted Sean’s nightmares.

“Get in the truck, now!” Sean ordered his father.

“And go where? Sean, you aren’t…”

“Get in! Now!” Sean slapped at the rear door, and leaped into the driver’s seat. Don opened the rear door and got into the back seat. Even before he’d closed the back door, Sean reversed out of the parking space. He pulled out of the parking lot just as the hulking form came around the curve on the road to their left, cutting off the escape to Maple Bend.

He’d last seen the creature giving chase to Jessabelle just outside the crossroads. The giant was different now. Still gargantuan at fourteen feet in height, and easily twice the weight of the truck, Arrogat wore an oversized electronic headset and something resembling a modern armored vest. In his hand, he carried what appeared to be a custom metal war club, streamlined along the edge with a broad flange at the end like a blunt axe-head.

Sean gunned the engine and took off down the road in the other direction, with the giant roaring in pursuit.

The smoke wafted around the shocked group in the middle of the road, but none seemed more surprised than Jenny and one of the soldiers. The leader lowered his unfired pistol and turned to the young man behind him.

“I’m sorry, sir!” the soldier cried. “It just went off! I didn’t mean to pull the trigger! I don’t know what happened.”

“If I hadn’t been shielded…”

“I know, sir! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Jenny sighed. If only she could have worn down their physical protections the way Min had weakened their magical ones. Could there be some way to reverse her protection spell, and take down an enemy’s shield? That would have been something wonderful to have practiced at her grandma’s house over the last month. If only. She vowed to test that possibility if by some miracle she actually survived this ordeal.

The leader snarled at the soldier. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.” He turned back to Jenny. “The plan has fallen apart. We kill them now, and head back to the camp.”

A voice in her head commanded, “Drop! Grab Min and drop to the ground now!”

Not sure what she’d heard, Jenny took hold of Min and pulled her to the ground. Three of the men loomed over them, guns raised, while the soldier who had accidentally shot his leader drew a sword from its sheath.

Gunfire erupted from a rise in the woods beside them. An arrow struck the leader in his neck, bouncing off like it had struck a stone wall. Blinding flashes of magic exploded like fireworks around the men as their rings protected them from the initial volley. They turned their guns toward the rise and the tell-tale plumes of smoke, searching for targets. Two more arrows flew toward the group, one striking the magical shield of its intended target. One of the men took aim and fired with his pistol at a target Jenny did not see. The man who had accidentally fired his gun stooped down and began reloading.

The guns on the rise remained silent as they reloaded, save for one. It fired three more shots at the leader, less than two seconds apart, impacting his protection with flashes that dimmed with each hit. The fourth shot struck the man through the shoulder, piercing his armor and causing him to stagger as much in surprise as from the impact.

The other men stared, mouths open, as another bullet struck their leader in his chest. He staggered backward, raised his pistol, and fired uselessly in the general direction of their attackers. Another shot hit him in the chest, and he collapsed onto the ground, dying.

A renewed volley came from the rise, and two of the men fled into the woods. The one kneeling on the ground appeared catatonic, no longer responding to the chaos around him. Figures emerged from the woods, silent and well-armed with bows and guns. A panther strode confidently among them, pausing only to sniff the air. As they drew close, Jenny recognized most of the group. Jack was the first to her side, followed by Jessabelle in her feline form.

Lisbet followed, her eyes locked on the remaining soldier, tendrils of her witchcraft tying her to the man and binding him as surely as rope. Sheriff Hodson followed with three young men, including Arlan, armed with a bow as Jenny had first seen him. One of the young men had a very handsome face, but half of it was marred by fresh scars. In light of the recent battles, Jenny saw them as badges of honor. She didn’t recognize the third young man either, but she didn’t care. At that moment, they could have had angel wings and it wouldn’t have felt like any more of a miracle.

Leon and a young woman brought up the rear, rifles at the ready. The woman’s weapon was a long-barreled black powder rifle, like the one Natalie had used. Leon carried a modern AR-15 rifle. They kept low, covering the other side of the road where the queen’s soldiers had fled. Hodson disarmed the soldier under Lisbet’s control, and Leon, holding the rifle one-handed, knelt down beside Min.

“Are you guys okay?” Jack asked.

Jenny started crying in spite of her relief. “Yes. They were going to butcher us. And the queen…”

“The queen was here?” Lisbet said. The soldier blinked, suddenly realizing where he was and that he’d been captured.

“Yes. She made me tell her everything! She is heading for the crossroads right now!”

Leon helped Min to her feet. “We need to head back quickly, anyway, before those two get ballsy. Or get reinforcements.”

“There’s more. The queen is Debbie Arnot.”

“Who?” Jack asked.

“Grandma Annie’s best friend. Sean’s ghost.”

“Oh. From the picture?”

“I guess, yes.”

“Dang it. I thought she looked familiar when I met her. If only I’d paid more attention to that picture Sean took from Annie’s house, I would have known something was up from the get-go!”

The group retreated back into the woods, making their way back to the city. Arlan and the woman with the long-barreled rifle took the lead. Min looked much better than she had a few minutes earlier. “Arnot, huh? That explains the name.”

“What name?”

Min glanced at Jessabelle, who naturally wasn’t speaking for herself. “It was what they called a place south of Morgantown. The Coven owns it, indirectly. Maybe it’s because that girl went through the crossroads there. Maybe Thadeus did something to her to make it so his daughter could transfer bodies.”

Lisbet frowned. “How? We have her watched every hour of the day.”

Min shrugged. “You, personally? Obviously, she must have had inside help from the Wardens.”

Jack spoke up. “And from an ugly magical asshole named Zainus.”

“Impossible,” Lisbet said. “No Warden could ever betray us like that.”

Min said, “Not to put salt on fresh wounds, but I think we just witnessed exactly how they might.” After an awkward silence, she said, “Anyway, is the town okay? We heard the battle.”

“Wasn’t much of a battle,” Leon said. “It was more of a diversion or probing attack. Thanks to the sheriff’s warning, we were able to react pretty quickly. We shot and killed the spy after he’d blown up only two sections of the wall, and soldiers managed to shoot one of the others. They didn’t shoot the other two because they were carrying you and Jenny. We took a risk on Arlan, because he really is a fantastic tracker. He even spotted Jenny’s hair on some broken twigs on the way down.”

To Jenny, Lisbet said, “I used that to see through your eyes the last few minutes. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know earlier, but I didn’t want to startle you into alarming your guards. That was how I nudged this one into firing his gun early. It was pointed away from you, and he had his finger on the trigger.”

Leon said, “The fact that he had the muzzle pointed at the other soldier was a bonus. Someone ought to teach these people about gun safety, but under the circumstances, I’m glad they didn’t. That was how we knew that he had magical protection, so we concentrated our fire while Lisbet kept this guy confused.”

As they crossed a ridge, Jenny glimpsed the town over the treetops. “So what do we do now? How can we stop the queen? As soon as she gets to the crossroads…”

Lisbet interrupted her. “The Wardens have stopped her before. We will stop her again.”

Leon shook his head. “There’s no time. If she gets to the crossroads, it’s Game Over. Our next fight will be against both her and her father. Worse, her father will be more powerful than ever. We will return to Dane’s Point only long enough to pick up supplies and volunteers.”

“The Wardens will come,” Lisbet said with finality.

“Agreed. This is what they’ve trained for. We don’t know how many people she is bringing with her, but if she’s anything like her father, our chances aren’t good.”

Min looked skyward and said with an irritated sigh, “In other words, you don’t know how to stop her, and anyone going after her is probably going to die. So why do it?”

Leon said nothing. Lisbet looked ready to protest, even to the point of opening her mouth. She had no good answer. After an awkward pause, Jenny surprised herself by answering out loud in an effort to convince herself. “Because we have to try. What else can we do?”

* * *

Fifteen minutes after they returned to the town, the assault from the queen’s forces began anew. Gunshots rang out, and the enemy brought their cannons to bear, splintering one of the sections of breastworks which had already received damaged. Defending cannons returned fire as soldiers rushed into position to protect the breach.

Only hours earlier, Jenny had jumped off Vanya’s cart in this very spot in order to help the war effort, not realizing that she’d end up betraying everyone. Now she watched the battle at a distance that still didn’t seem safe, but she didn’t care. If a stray bullet ended it all now, it would only be what she deserved.

General Paff observed the battle through a spyglass. “It’s another feint,” he said. “They have no intention of charging the breach, yet. They’ll exploit it if they are able.”

Leon nodded. “It’s a distraction. I’m sure it means Taliel is working her way around us.”

Paff lowered the spyglass. “I agree with your assessment. I don’t agree with your decision to go with the expedition. We could really use your expertise here.”

“I’m not an officer. I’m just a grunt.”

“A highly trained infantryman, with experience in unconventional tactics. You are far more valuable here. Leave this to the Wardens. It is what they are trained for.”

“Unless things go pear-shaped and we have to continue the fight on the other side of the crossroads. Then they’ll need me.”

“If things get to that point, it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late so long as we’re still breathing, General.”

Paff chuckled under his mustache. “Well said. I won’t order you otherwise. I do hope we shall meet again.”

“When we do, it will be with Taliel in irons.”

Paff glanced over his shoulder. “There’s the signal. It looks like the Wardens have been pulled off the lines and are ready to deploy. You should leave where the wall was breached by explosives this morning. That should obscure your exit, which should keep you safer, and hide the fact we’ve just pulled forty elite soldiers off our defenses. You two should go to them. We’ll keep the enemy occupied and off your back.”

“Thank you, General.” Leon stood straight and saluted Paff. The general saluted in return, hand held in a slightly different angle, but the differences were superficial. It was part of some strange code between men of war that crossed the boundaries between worlds.

Leon motioned to Jenny, and the two went to join the others—Jack, Lisbet, Jessabelle, Arlan, the guy with the injured face, and the woman who had helped rescue them.

Min and the sheriff opted to stay behind to help the town. Hodsen was already assisting in bolstering defenses against another attack. Min lingered next to Paff. “You guys are stupid for going after her. You know that, don’t you?”

Jenny opened her mouth to answer, but Jessabelle answered first. “It’s our grandma.”

“And the last chance to save the world,” Leon said. “Don’t forget that part.”

Min shrugged. “I didn’t say it wasn’t the right thing to do. I just said it was stupid. Watch out for each other.” With a small, sad smile directed at Leon, she turned and headed back into the town center.

Jenny adjusted the small satchel hanging from her shoulder which she carried like a purse. In it, she carried some herbs, one of Owen’s healing potions, and a tiny amount of food. Enough for a one-way trip, she thought grimly.

As they walked, Leon said, “You know that I used to be part of the Coven, right?”

Jenny shrugged. “So was my mom, I guess. An Inquisitor?”

Leon whistled. “Yeah. That. Anyway, the thing you need to know is that they are really good at screwing with your mind. Usually with a bit more subtlety, but they use deceit, guilt, threats, blackmail, and outright magic to control people. I’ve seen them do it. I’m sorry to say that I helped them do it.”

“Why are you telling me this? So I’d forgive you?”

“No. Just in case you are feeling guilty, I want you to forgive yourself. I know I’d be putting myself through hell right now, but none of this was your fault.”

“If I’d stayed with Vanya, Taliel wouldn’t know how to find the crossroads.”

“So? If you’d minded your own business to begin with, the Coven would have brought her through two months ago. If Jessabelle had followed my stupid, selfish advice, it would have happened a month ago, you and your grandma would probably be dead, and Taliel and her father would have taken over both worlds by now. This whole thing has been planned out for at least a hundred years, and all we’ve been doing is buying ourselves time. Sooner or later, one way or another, it would have come to this no matter what we did.”

“What can we do about it?”

“I don’t know. But the Wardens captured her once. They can do it again. The rest of us are here to help them however we can.”

Jenny stared at the ground as they walked. Leon might be correct, but her head still echoed with the sound of her own voice confessing everything to Taliel earlier that morning.

They reached the rest of the group. All-in-all, their expedition included fifty people, mostly Wardens. They marched off into the woods, paralleling the road to Hobbfield.

“Who… what… is that thing?” Don’s voice rose in pitch and volume as the creature slowed slightly to lower its head and clear telephone lines.

“Is that a giant?” Debbie asked. “I kind of remember seeing you with one. A dead one.”

“Yeah. I got a lucky shot on one.” Sean glanced into the rear-view mirror. The monster was losing ground, but not giving up the chase. It would probably tire before they’d gotten too far out of town, but they wouldn’t dare return. Not until Thadeus was done with his plans. “It looks like the Coven gave this one an upgrade.”

“This must be a dream,” Don said. “I just have to wake up.”

Up ahead, Sean spotted the long dirt road leading to Bella’s house. He had a stupid idea, and swore at himself even as he pulled off on the dirt road.

His father joined him in the swearing. “What are you doing?”

Debbie looked back at the dust cloud they left in their wake. “You got a plan?”

“A dumb one. I need your help, though.”

“I’ll try.”

Halfway up the dirt road, Sean pulled to the side, over grass and gravel to the pole holding criss-crossed buzzing power lines. “Dad, run and hide. Debbie, can you get on top of those transformers?”

“What’s a transformer?” she asked as Don lodged weak protests.

“The big gray canister-looking things. Power runs through them.”

“Ruthless move. I’ll try.” She bit her lip as she eyed the lines at the top of the pole.

Before they could take action, Arrogat emerged from the dust cloud, face split with a mirthless grin. “Y’all quit runnin’!” he said. “Good!”

In spite of himself, Sean backed away in terror, stopped by the tailgate of the pickup. He’d practiced countless hours over the last two months for a rematch with the bow. And here he stood, unarmed, while the giant wore modern body armor. This had been a stupid mistake. He should have fled town. He couldn’t do any good here, anyway, and at least they’d all still be alive. Two out of three, at least.

The giant pointed the club at him. “You! You kill my tribe-bruddah!”

At this point, Jack would have had something to say, either something smart-ass or something honest and infuriating. Sean could think of nothing clever to say and nothing to do but stare wide-eyed at the advancing monster. Arrogat’s grin widened. He knew he’d won. He advanced casually, taking practice swings at the air.

“Hey big guy! Up here!” Debbie shouted from the transformer on the power pole. “Your mother wears combat boots!”

The giant glanced at her, sneered, but refused to take the bait and returned his attention to Sean. He ducked as he approached the power lines, preventing his wild hair from contacting the wires. Debbie glowered at the giant for a moment, and then looked around as if searching for a weapon. She kicked at one of the insulators with a force that would have knocked her off the pole if she had been more than a spirit.

“I gonna eat you still wigglin’!” The giant raised his club over his head and hammered it down. Sean dove to the side, and the club head plowed halfway through the tailgate. The giant tugged at the club, pulling the truck back two feet before the weapon tore loose. Sean jumped to the side of the truck for cover, but the giant rolled the truck over. Sean lunged forward and away from the truck.

Arrogat’s foot struck too quickly for Sean to avoid it. The kick spun him over and onto his back. He felt for a moment like he couldn’t breathe, wondering if his ribs were crushed. He didn’t have long to worry, as Arrogat took a step back and raised his club high with both hands, grinning in final victory. Sean tried to roll, but his body was not responding fast enough.

Debbie leaped from her perch on the tower, a suicidal move if she’d been alive, and grabbed hold of the end of the giant’s weapon. The club tipped back to contact the smashed insulators and stripped wires, products of Debbie’s desperate ghostly assault against the physical world during the giant’s attack. The transformers on the side of the pole exploded like the fireworks.

Sean rolled to his feet as Arrogat collapsed against the power pole. Both the giant and the structure fell to the ground amid sparks and smoke. After twitching twice, the giant stopped moving, eyes frozen in an empty stare.

* * *

“Hattie’s going to need a new truck. Again,” Sean mumbled to no one in particular. His left shoulder and his back hurt worse than after his ride on the ghost-boar. In fact, the only time he remembered hurting more was as in a fight against another giant.

“Are you okay, Sean?” Don asked. Sean nodded and looked over his shoulder at his father. The man’s face was as white as a sheet, and he blinked constantly at the sight of the still-twitching giant, flinching at the irregular popping sounds exploding from the transformer.

“Yeah, you?”

Don nodded. “The girl? Where is she?”

Sean scanned the area. Nothing. “Debbie? Debra Arnot? Debbie, are you here? Where did you go?” He started to move toward the giant when his father grabbed him by the right shoulder—the one not in terrible pain. “Don’t. You get close you are going to get electrocuted, too.”

“But Debbie… She’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“I’m sorry, Son. Maybe she fell when the pole toppled. I can’t see her.” His father stumbled as he looked around, and then settled clumsily to sit on the ground. “That took more out of me than I expected.” He supported himself with his left hand, and rubbed his chest with his right.

Sean found Debbie in the middle of some weeds and brush beyond the cleared-out area surrounding the power line. She faced away from him, her green floral skirt standing out against the yellow of the grass. In the sunlight, her skin seemed translucent—radiant and ethereal. Sean blinked, and realized that it wasn’t just a trick of the light or his mind. She had less presence, less solidity. She no longer cast a shadow.

“Debbie, are you okay?” Sean asked, feeling silly asking the question. But she didn’t look okay to his eyes.

“I think I found the people you were looking for,” she said.

“What?” Sean stepped to Debbie’s side. Bella and her husband stood just up the slope a few feet, hidden in the shade of trees. Sean breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re still here! I thought you’d left.”

Clarence grinned brightly. “Y’all killed that giant.”

“It’s dead, I think, yeah,” Sean said.

Bella stepped toward Sean, smiling sadly. “It was enough. Now we can be here.”

“What do you m…” Sean stopped. There was a glimmer of violet in Bella’s eye. “No!”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

Clarence scratched at his head. “That giant done et us, I think!”

Bella rolled her eyes. “We were fed to him by the Man in the White Suit.”

“What? Fed?”

She shook her eyes. “It don’t matter no more. You killed it, and I reckon we’re back only because you did. We probably ain’t got much time. I promised you a couple of days back to teach you. The real me did, anyhow. I ain’t got nothing but a little bit of time and memories, but I reckon they should go to you. Stand still, and pay attention.”

Sean stood close. Bella touched his head, and then pushed her hand through his forehead. He felt the cold sensation of fingers pushing through his brain, but before the terror could rise to the surface, he felt words, sensations, and memories. A woman—Bella’s mother?—holding what seemed like a séance. And feelings. The touch of a ghost. The chill touch of a dark spirit. The voice in his head, as his hand wrapped around the slippery, loathsome form of a spirit. “You take it ‘n you shake it!” a woman’s voice called. “Take it ‘n shake it ‘n make it come apart!” The awful feeling of taking a piece of darkness into one’s own soul, but then watching its form unravel as he pulled. “Take it and shake it.”

Sean opened his eyes, realizing that they’d been closed. Bella was gone.

Clarence stepped up to him, still grinning. “’Fraid I ain’t even got that much to give you, neither. Just this. Bella always said there were a lot of ghosts around here. Too many. Even folks who can’t see ‘em know that. When I was a kid, we had stories about them. I don’t know if any of them were true, but we had a story about one of the oldest ghosts of them all, up in Blood Creek. It haunts a church.”

“Leendert. I sort of met him.”

“Maybe. We gave him other names. Anyway, I met the Man in the White Suit. He scared us, but we didn’t know he was going to hurt us. He asked Bella a lot of questions about this ghost. I think he was afraid of it. He got mad when Bella told him we don’t know anything about it.”

“Why would he be afraid of it? As far as I know, it’s accidentally helping him.”

“I don’t know. I just felt like I ought to tell you.” With that, Clarence vanished as well.

Debbie was no longer standing beside him. Sean turned and walked back to the smashed truck, and found Debbie kneeling next to his father. Don shrugged and answered a question Sean had missed. “Just a bit of shock. Figurative. I’m glad you are okay, too.”

“Are you dizzy?”

“Yeah, a little.” He rubbed at his chest.

Sean stood at her side, but she didn’t acknowledge him as she focused on his father. “Are you feeling pain around your chest?”

“No, not really. My muscles are just a little tight.”

“You are breathing shallow. I believe you are having a heart attack, sir.”

“What?”

Sean blinked, trying to make sure he’d heard her right. “Debbie, are you sure?”

“I can’t be sure, but it looks like it. This is pretty much what happened with my uncle.”

“What do we do?”

“Get him to a hospital as soon as possible.”

Sean looked at the wreckage of the truck. “It’ll take longer to get an ambulance out here than to go straight there. Dad, I need the keys to your car!”

* * *

Sean glanced at Debbie in the rear-view mirror. She stared out her window, motionless. As the GPS on Sean’s phone once again announced that it had lost the signal, her eyes widened and she looked around, searching for the source of the voice. Just like last time.

“We need to check her into the Emergency Room, too,” Don said. He still didn’t understand.

“Are we going to the hospital?” Debbie asked.

Sean nodded. “Yes. We should be there in just a few minutes.”

“Okay. Good. I think I’m sick. I know I should remember you, but I can’t think of your name. I feel like I’m forgetting a lot of things.”

She’d been getting progressively worse since they’d left Bella’s house. He wasn’t sure if she had just gotten worn out, or if the distance from Maple Bend—or Leendert—was weakening her. Perhaps both.

“Just stay with us, Debbie. It will be okay.”

She nodded. “I’m feeling really sleepy. I should last until we get to the hospital though.”

Pale and sweating, Don didn’t look much better. He put on a weak smile. “I think we can both use some rest.” He leaned around to look at her. “Where did she go?”

Sean slowed and looked over his shoulder at the back seat. Debbie stared forward through half-closed lids, mouth slightly open. “Debbie!”

“I’ll be okay…” she said.

Then she was gone.

He could slam on the brake, go into reverse. Bring her back. Anything to bring her back.

His father looked at him, eyes wide. “What’s going on?”

Tears welled up in Sean’s eyes. He blinked, forced himself to focus on the road. “You need to get checked into the hospital. That’s what matters.”

“What about the girl? Debbie?”

“She’s been gone a very long time, Dad.”

“You aren’t making sense.”

“Dad, you’ve seen a man who couldn’t be killed. You’ve been chased by a giant. And now, you have met a ghost.”

Settling back in his seat, Don closed his eyes. “I must be going crazy. Or dreaming.”

“I thought I was, too, after I learned what Debbie was. She’s the one I came here to find.”

Don was silent as the trees gave way to houses, and then to commercial buildings. As they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, he asked, “So you are going to go after her? Will you find her again?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“So what will you do?”

Sean found a parking spot close to the Emergency Room entrance, and pulled his father’s Subaru into the position. “I’m going to check you in. Then, I’m going back to Maple Bend.”

“Why?”

“I have to stop the Man in the White Suit.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s suicide.”

“I’m not going to face him directly again. But I do have an idea. Something Clarence told me…”

“Then tell someone else. Let someone else do it.”

“Nobody else can.” He opened the driver’s side door. “Now, stay here and I’ll see if I can borrow a wheelchair.”

Before Sean stepped out of the car, Don took hold of his arm. “Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“We never told you this, but your mom said she saw ghosts all the time. I never believed her. I… I thought she just had some kind of mental issue… even after I saw a ghost.”

He didn’t elaborate. After the space of several beeps of the “door open” alarm, Sean asked, “When did you see a ghost? Besides Debbie?”

“Right after your mom died, I had a dream. Or I thought it was a dream. She told me some things that I chalked up to my own worries about her. And you.”

“Me? What did she tell you?”

“She was in the bedroom with me. She looked as healthy as she’d been two years before. She told me that you had the same gift of seeing ghosts. She said if you ever told me you saw ghosts, I should believe you. At the time, it was easy to chalk up to a subconscious thing, because it didn’t make logical sense. After all, if I was really seeing her ghost, then seeing ghosts wasn’t really much of a special gift, was it? When I heard a rumor you were out looking for a ghost, I thought you had inherited your mother’s mental disorder. Then all the stuff with the news… it just looked bad.”

“So, do you believe me now?”

Glancing at the back seat, he said, “I don’t see that I have much choice. However, I still don’t want you to go. We both nearly died a little while ago. If you go back, I don’t think I’m ever going to see you again.”

“Dad…”

“Hold on. I wanted you to know that I don’t want you to go back, and why. However, I also know you aren’t going to listen, and you are going back anyway. That’s the way you’ve been for years, and I don’t think you are going to change now. I don’t want to argue with you. I just had to say it. Be careful, Sean. Please? I want the chance for things to be right with us.”

Sean paused, closing his eyes. “I’ll try, but I think the time for being careful is over. There’s something I have to do. First, let’s get you checked in.”

By mid-afternoon, Jenny felt ready to drop. Their team hadn’t slowed their pace, and neither had their quarry. The all-night investigation hadn’t helped. “I guess this is war,” she said to Trevor, her assigned bodyguard, the young man with the damaged face.

He shrugged. “I guess so. Lots of marching, lots of camping, and then a little bit of really terrible fighting.”

“Is that where you…” She reconsidered asking him too late. It was rude.

“My injury? Yes. You healed me back at the tent.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you!”

“How could you? My face was covered in bandages. This wasn’t the worst of my injuries. Owen told me later that they thought I had only a fifty-percent chance of surviving the night. Then you showed up. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. But thanks.”

They continued until early evening, and scouts returned having spotted the queen’s forces just ahead, just outside of Hobbfield. Lisbet halted the soldiers and prepared for the attack.

“We don’t know if the garrison at Hobbfield knows they are coming, and we don’t know if the enemy has noticed us. They outnumber us about two to one, including the garrison forces. Our best bet is to attack from behind while they are engaging the garrison. If the garrison can hold out long enough, and if Taliel’s forces haven’t detected us, it gives us the best chance of victory.”

“Any chance of warning the garrison?” Leon asked.

Lisbet shook her head. “I don’t have a connection with them, there isn’t time, and any attempt would risk detection. We just have to hope that the eight of them are watchful and have prepared decent defenses.”

“What about the three of us?” Jenny asked, motioning to her friends.

“You will have special tasks. Jessabelle, I need you to use your abilities to find Taliel in this mess, and relay the information back to me. Jenny, you are our magical defense. And Jack, I hate to ask you this, but…”

Jack grinned. “I draw her fire.”

“Exactly. Any questions?”

Jenny had several, but everyone else just mumbled agreement. She didn’t ask.

“Very well. From here on out, no conversations, whispered commands only, and go as quietly as we can until we hear the sound of fighting.”

Jessabelle gave Jenny a thumbs-up sign, and transformed into a panther. She sprang away, silently followed by the young woman who had been in the rescue party that morning. Jack, accompanied by Arlan, seemed pretty comfortable with what looked like a shotgun in his hands, and moved as quietly as everyone else. Everyone seemed competent except for Jenny. Trevor said nothing, but she knew she moved with the stealth and subtlety of a rhinoceros. She just hoped that it wouldn’t get anyone killed.

The last half-mile was, if anything, worse than the previous six combined. Even her renewed protective spell wasn’t preventing blisters on her feet, and she didn’t want to waste the healing potions she’d acquired from Owen. She hadn’t had time to make her own, but she could bolster a potion pretty well without it taking too much out of her. She really wanted to save it in case she needed it for someone else.

Lisbet made a motion, and everyone quietly moved off the road. They moved forward at a snail’s pace, so even Jenny’s less-than-stealthy efforts had little risk of alerting the enemy. After ten minutes, gunshots rang out ahead. The team charged, mostly taking cover in the woods. Jenny tried to follow, lost and completely uncertain where she or anyone else was, until she realized she could see Hobbfield through the trees ahead.

The Wardens’ forces attacked with arrows and rifles, and the enemy army turned and attacked them, ignoring the tiny walled guard tower they’d been attacking. In the chaos and smoke, people collapsed on both sides, but the enemy seemed to be taking the worst of it. From her vantage point behind the friendly troops, Jenny scanned the battlefield for Taliel.

In her head, she heard Lisbet’s voice. “Taliel and several soldiers have broken off. Jessabelle is pursuing them. They are probably heading toward the portal. Get Trevor and follow her. I’ll send whoever I can to join you. We just need you slow her down!”

Jenny peeked through the trees to Vanya’s house. Was Vanya okay? No gunfire came from the tower—did that mean the soldiers inside were all dead? Part of her wanted to stay here and make sure the enemy was defeated and the people of the village were okay. Every rational part of her mind told her that chasing after Taliel was as stupid as attacking an ogre empty-handed. But this was why she was here. Her grandmother was out there with no warning.

Staying within the woods and skirting the battle, Jenny and Trevor made their way toward the creek. Within two minutes they were joined by Arlan and Jack.

Arlan pointed to the trail. “People ran past this spot recently. I don’t know how much longer they can keep up that pace. They must be as tired as we are, or worse. Maybe Taliel isn’t, but the rest would be.”

“Can you tell if Jessabelle has already followed them?”

Arlan looked at Jack. “Uh… no.”

“Sorry, that was kind of a dumb question, huh?”

Arlan shook his head. “If I see any sign of her, I’ll let you know. But I assume she and Kira are ahead of us.”

Jenny frowned but said nothing. She still didn’t trust Arlan.

They’d only gone a few minutes before Arlan told everyone to stop, because people were approaching. He readied an arrow and hid behind a tree. Jenny dropped low behind a scrub bush, while Trevor and Jack took cover positions and aimed down the trail with their guns.

Figures below them took similar defensive positions. Jenny found herself tensing up in preparation for another fight, when a voice called out, “Jack? Is that you?”

Jack tipped his shotgun down. “Yes. Henry?”

A man stepped out from behind a tree, and approached with his rifle lowered. Four other Wardens followed suit, two with rifles, and two with bows. “Glad we didn’t shoot first,” Henry said with a thin smile.

Jenny realized she hadn’t been breathing. As she exhaled in relief, she noticed the dandelions growing wild around her. Several had turned white. She picked them, placing them in her satchel.

“What happened?”

“It looked like we were winning, when Crane and Poulson sent us to join up with you. We forced them to retreat, but there are still more of them than us, and they could be regrouping.”

“How many did we lose?”

“I’m not sure. Not too many.”

Jenny stood. “We need to move.”

The group nodded in agreement, and continued. Now that their group had doubled in size, Jenny felt a little safer. She still felt like the one slowing the group down. No one else complained, so she didn’t, either. It would all be over in a few hours, one way or another, she told herself.

After an hour, they heard gunfire up ahead. With what strength remained, they charged ahead. Kira, Jessabelle’s bodyguard, hid behind a tree, pinned down by enemy arrows and musket shots in equal measure. Jessabelle was nowhere to be seen, but three of the nine soldiers faced away from Kira, scanning the forest behind them. Four soldiers maintained fire on Kira’s position, while two others crept closer on either side of her.

Arlan was the first to take a shot, his arrow striking the flanking archer in the shoulder. Realizing they were under attack, the enemy soldiers opened fire on the Wardens. As Jenny dove for cover behind another tree, a bullet whizzed by her head, sounding like a caffeinated bumblebee. Even the soldiers guarding the rear turned their weapons on the newcomers. One of the friendly soldiers fell. Trevor grunted as he took cover, a red stain spreading over his right trouser-leg as he reloaded his rifle.

If he was her bodyguard, why didn’t he get a protection amulet? Why hadn’t she made sure he was protected! She half-stood to rush to his aid when an arrow flew directly between them. She stopped cold. They had to finish the fight before she could help anyone. She didn’t know how many hits her protective spell would take, but it wouldn’t last forever.

In the meantime, Taliel was nowhere to be seen. Had she left them behind to slow down pursuers? Probably. It was certainly working. The ammunition might not last forever, but when it was over, they’d be exhausted, injured, and likely fewer in number. Were these soldiers that she left to die even part of her inner circle? Did they have any idea who they were fighting for? Or were they like Arlan a few days ago, fighting for a lie?

Jenny had to stop Taliel. After what the sorceress had done to Jenny, with what she might do to Annie, there was no question about that. But what could she do?

Grandma Annie’s words came to her: “It’s all the same. It’s a tool. Used wisely, it can save lives.”

Leaning against the tree, she opened her small satchel and found the white dandelions and a jar of crushed bay leaves. They’d have to do. She poured a small amount of the dried fragments of bay leaves into the palm of her left hand. Next to her head, a bullet slammed into the side of the tree, exploding bark and dust. Some fragments landed in her open palm. She tried very hard not to think about what just happened, and instead imagined that the bark might have some additional properties to augment her spell. After all, she hadn’t been very good at it before, and could use all the help she could get. She scooped the tufted remains of the dandilions in her palm, closed her right hand over top of her left, and rubbed her hands together to mix it all.

She felt the power building up. Now she understood Annie’s explanation. The lives of not only her friends, but also her current enemies, depended on it. The magic was a tool. It was the act itself that was of critical importance. She couldn’t imagine a more just cause than this.

With all force of conviction and strength she had left, she modified and abbreviated the spell Annie had taught her. It would have to be good enough.

Love and respect, desire and fear

Heed you now the words you hear!

She stood and stepped out from behind the cover, blowing the contents of her hands out toward her enemies, and shouted, “Drop your weapons and surrender!”

Her allies were more surprised than her enemies, but all but two of the queen’s soldiers dropped their weapons and raised their hands. One woman shot her with her musket, and the ball ricocheted with a whine as it bounced off the protective field. An archer let an arrow loose, but it went wide. The archer lowered the bow, his mouth wide open. The musketeer’s eyes widened as she looked at her fellow soldiers.

The Wardens stepped out from cover, weapons trained on their enemies. The battle was over.

Sean couldn’t remember the last time he’d hugged his father. Maybe it had been at his high school graduation, an obligation in front of others. Maybe it hadn’t been since the funeral. But this time, as his father prepared for tests in the hospital room, it felt right. Twice more, his father asked him to stay. Sean’s answer the last time was, “Your car will be parked in the church parking lot in Maple Bend.”

Sean stood in the parking lot, staring at the church. He’d knocked on the preacher’s door, but there’d been no answer. As he approached the door to the church, the memory of Leendert’s fury the last time he’d been inside caused a ripple of shudder along his spine.

The door was unlocked. When he stepped inside, the chapel seemed curiously dark in spite of the bright sunlight outside, as if the windows had been coated with dirt. A woman sat on the front pew in the gloom.

“Hello, Esther,” Sean said softly as he walked up the aisle.

The woman stood up, and turned to him. “I’m not Esther. Hello, Sean.” Chrissy King smiled at him. She was dressed in a white Sunday dress that seemed more appropriate for a girl half her age. She seemed innocent and friendly, as if she hadn’t betrayed him and left him in deadly danger a few days earlier.

Sean froze. “What are you doing here?”

“I was told to stay here and make sure nobody goes into the basement. Especially you.”

“Why?”

“The boss doesn’t want the thing in the basement disturbed anymore. Maybe because it distracts Avery.”

“How?” Avery was able to murder—if that was the right word—any number of spirits because of Leendert’s howls. He was gaining power with each one. How was that a distraction? Unless he was content to attack ghosts rather than obey Thadeus.

Chrissy shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Who knows? That’s not my problem. I’m just in charge of this church.”

Sean narrowed his eyes on Chrissy. Her tattoo protected her from ghosts, which made her the perfect person to stand watch near the dangerous, newly-awakened spirit below. Did she know that? “So that’s your job, now? Guard dog for the Coven?”

Her nose twitched. “For today. They think that tonight’s going to be the night. Avery didn’t need your help after all, I guess.”

“So why are you doing this? Don’t you know what’s going to happen?”

“Sure I do! The Coven is going to make this place their new capitol, on account of it being so close to the gateway. Thadeus will be more powerful than ever when his daughter heals him up, and the two of ‘em are going to run both worlds. You keep picking the wrong side, Sean.”

“The wrong side? The Coven is murdering people, Chrissy.”

“I’m sure they deserved it.”

“No! Innocent people, Chrissy. Thadeus and his coven are evil. Don’t you care?”

She lowered her head. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll win. Once they take charge, things are going to get a whole lot better.” She raised her head up and stared into his eyes. “It’s going to be so cool.”

“How can you believe that?”

“You’ll see for yourself. Just don’t do anything stupid, and you’ll find out.”

Sean shook his head. “Too late.” He stepped forward.

She reached down into her purse. “Don’t make me do this.”

“Do what? Shoot me?”

She pulled a radio from her purse. “What? Don’t be silly. Nobody’s shooting anyone.”

That was that. Sean walked down a pew toward the wall with the stairs, and Chrissy keyed her radio. “Sean Williams is here, heading downstairs.”

A woman’s voice on the radio said, “We’ll be right there.”

He wouldn’t have much time. Sean descended the stairs. The lights had been left on, and the curtains pulled away from the high windows, but the gloom upstairs was even worse. At the corner of the first room, a figure sat with its back against the wall.

Slowly approaching the form, Sean knelt, and recognized Everett Harris. The preacher breathed slowly, his head slumped against his chest, but had no markings of physical injury. Sean remembered how he felt when Leendert attacked, and shuddered. The preacher must have come down here, either innocently or to confront whatever was down here, and met the furious ghost.

He shook Harris, called his name, and even lightly smacked the man’s cheek. Harris groaned, but didn’t awaken. Sean checked his watch. How long ago had Chrissy radioed in? Two minutes?

Striding with far more confidence then he felt, he entered the storage room and faced Leendert. The ghost still stood in repose, but seemed more solid than he had before. He seemed only half-asleep. Perhaps he could be reasoned with. Sean hadn’t had time to prepare a speech. He just hoped Leendert could be made to understand.

“Leendert, I need your help. The devil who wears the face of a man has found a new door. You are the only one who knows how to close it. We need to shut it forever.”

The old minister’s lidded eyes snapped open, dark and violet. “The devil. He killed us all!” He frowned, lowering his eyebrows over violet pinpoints of light that grew brighter by the moment.

“No! Not like that! Don’t howl again, or whatever it is you do! I’m your friend! Your ally! I know where the new door is. Come with me. Bring some of your—I don’t know, your followers, whatever—and we can stop the devil. It’s the best way to fight him now.”

“You help Leendert?”

“You and I will help each other. But let’s do it my way this time. Your way is helping his allies. Are you able to close another door?”

“I…” He didn’t continue.

“I can help. I can lend you strength. One lady even borrowed my body for a few minutes to work her old magic. I can do that for you. Anything to stop Thadeus. I mean, the devil.”

Leendert’s eyes reduced their intensity. “Maybe I understand. You take me to the door. You and I destroy it with the old ways. Correct?”

That was Sean’s entire plan in its simplicity. He’d trap his friends on the other side of the crossroads forever, and certainly be killed, just like Leendert had been. But this time, he’d set the Coven’s plans back by decades, maybe centuries. Hopefully, it would be enough time for people to come up with a more permanent solution. Sean didn’t like the plan, particularly the part about how fatal it was almost guaranteed to be, but anything else would be the end of everything he cared about.

Sean took a deep breath. “Yes. Correct. Now, there’s a problem. Th… our enemy has a bunch of allies up there at the door. They will likely kill me as soon as they see me. Maybe I can help you even after I’m dead, maybe not. I’ll do what I can. But the sooner we can shut it down, the more likely we are to succeed.”

Leendert nodded slowly. “We will not fight alone. It will not take long to destroy the door. Perhaps you shall live.” Turning to the dim sunlight coming through the squat window at the top of the wall. “It is still daylight.”

“It’ll be easier to find during the day.”

“It will be more difficult to work the old ways in daylight. The dead, we grow weak in daylight.”

Sean rubbed at his temples. “We need to leave soon. As quickly as possible. Maybe we can wait for sundown once we get there? Will that work?”

Leendert looked back at him with a mouth half-open and no real answer. Before Sean could repeat and clarify himself, he heard the sound of footsteps on the floorboards above. “Crap. The Coven is here.”

“Devil’s allies?”

“Yes.”

“I shall deal with them!”

“No! They may be ready to deal with you, too. We can’t risk it. We’ve got one shot at this. It sounds like they expect to break through the crossroads—the door—tonight. We don’t have much time. We can’t afford to have you disabled.”

“I see. But I hear a witch. I think she is working magic right now.”

“Magic against you?”

“No. Not against dead. Against living.”

“Oh, crap.”

Leendert looked up at the ceiling. “I am not only one necessary for this plan.”

Several sets of footsteps fled the building. Sean’s eyes widened. “They’ve gone. Leendert, what did you do?”

“I do nothing.”

The spell hit with the force of an irresistible ocean wave, slamming Sean to the floor. The more he fought, the more strength he lost, and the more his vision faded. The spell used his own body and energy against him, turning him as weak and as helpless as a baby.

Leendert’s eyes blazed, and he roared. This time, Sean wanted to join him. If only he had the strength.

Before the soldiers could try anything, the Wardens disarmed and bound them. Two of the enemy soldiers were dead, and two others seriously injured. The Wardens tended the prisoners’ wounds. Jenny administered the healing potion between the three seriously injured Wardens, including Trevor, reciting the healing spell to aid the healing process. They were no longer able to move with speed, so they took charge of the prisoners.

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you as I should have,” Trevor said, eyes cast down, as she completed the healing song.

“You did just fine.”

“I thought I’d failed you utterly when you stepped out in front of them all.”

Jenny shrugged. “I had an advantage. I had magic.”

“It wasn’t just magic that did that back there. I don’t think King Ferik himself could have been more intimidating just then. I thought you were crazy, but you were powerful-crazy, if that makes any sense.”

It didn’t, but it still made her smile. “I’m just glad we all lived through it. So far.”

“Be safe, Jenny.”

“You, too.”

There was no time for more goodbyes. Jessabelle still hadn’t reappeared, and every minute that went by took Taliel further away from them and closer to the crossroads. Jenny hadn’t spared any of the healing potion—or any time for a healing spell—for herself. Somehow it didn’t matter. She felt stronger and as she and the others resumed their trek up Blood Creek.

Her second wind didn’t last the entire journey, but she pushed herself to keep up with the rest of the group as the sun descended in their race against Taliel and darkness. Hours went by, and the sky turned a dark purple when Jenny found herself in familiar territory.

“This way,” she said, pointing up a path. Jack nodded in agreement.

Arlan asked, “That’s the way to the portal?”

“No, it’s the way to Annie’s house.”

One of the Wardens said, “There’s no time. Taliel may already be there.”

Jenny said, “Have Jack take you there. I have to check on Annie. If Taliel passed her by, then we can get her help. If not…”

“How detailed were your instructions to Taliel?” Jack asked.

“I’m not sure. She kept asking me, and I explained as best as I could, but the forest is the forest.”

Jack grunted in frustration. “All she has to do is find the bottle.”

The Warden asked, “Will we be able to take her on if we are split up?”

When Jack didn’t answer, Jenny responded. “I know our chances are better if we have Annie with us. Look, I think we know I don’t know much about warfare. But now we’re talking about protecting the crossroads, and that’s something my grandma and I know something about.” She looked at Jack. Would he back her up? He cared about Annie, too, didn’t he? “I should only be ten or fifteen minutes behind you.”

Jack nodded slowly. “She’s right. We could use Annie’s help. Jenny, go check on her. We’ll meet you at the head of the stream.”

Kira said, “I’ll go with Jenny.”

With that, they parted ways. Jenny tried to race up the trail to Grandma Annie’s, but her legs could literally go no faster. However, now that she was in familiar territory again, she moved with sure-footed purpose.

The door to the shack was open. In the gloom within, Annie sat with her back against her bed. Jenny rushed to her side. “Grandma? Grandma, are you okay?”

“Huh?” the woman’s voice responded, weak and old. “Amy?”

“No, it’s me. Jenny.”

“Oh. Right. I thought I was dreaming again. Can you help me into bed?”

This didn’t sound right. “Sure,” Jenny said, reaching down to help Annie up. Kira joined her. Jenny took her grandma by one hand, and then reached around her waist to help her up. Her hand touched wet clothes.

“Grandma! Are you bleeding?”

“Get me to the bed, please.”

They lifted Annie gingerly onto her bed. Annie groaned, and breathed heavily. After a few moments she said, “Don’t you fret. She got me good, but then left me for dead. She didn’t reckon on my supply of healing juice, or Jessabelle hiding in the shadows.” She inhaled deeply, gasped, and let her breath out slowly. “Don’t think I’ll do much gardening this week, but I should pull through.”

“Jessabelle’s here?”

“Not nearby. She said you and Jack were coming with soldiers, and I told her to follow that witch. That… creature… is wearing Debbie’s skin!”

“I know. Hold still.” Jenny began the healing song, but Annie reached toward her face. Her hand found Jenny’s cheek, and then she moved her finger over Jenny’s mouth. “Save it,” Annie said. “I’ll be alright, by ‘n by. You need to stop her.”

“I don’t know how. She made me tell her where the crossroads were!”

“I don’t reckon you gave her GPS coordinates.”

“Um, no.”

“She might be there still. She’ll have a tough time finding it.”

“All she needs to do is find the witch bottle.”

“Which one?” At Jenny’s confusion, Annie chuckled. “Vanya came up with a bunch of supplies. I made a bunch of fake witch-bottles, and strung them all over the clearing. Then I took silver pins and hid the real one, plus a couple of others. It doesn’t matter if she can see in the dark; unless she’s really lucky, she’ll take hours finding the crossroads. A lot can happen in a few hours.”

Jenny leaned over to give her grandma a careful hug. Annie patted her arms. “Ain’t much more I can do. I hit that witch with everything I could. I don’t care if she looks like my best friend, y’all got to kill her. Hit her with everything you got. She bleeds, and she can be hurt. Y’all finish the ass-whuppin’ I started on her.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I am sure I won’t be okay if y’all let her find the crossroads! Now git!”

* * *

The moon was just peeking over the jagged eastern horizon with its reflected light when Jessabelle met them, this time as a girl. She wore one of Annie’s belts around her waist, with what looked like a modern, large-size fanny pack hanging from it. “Jack sent me to guide you to where they are hidden. How is Grandma?”

“I don’t know. Hurt, but I don’t know how badly.”

“We’ll go straight back after we finish off Taliel.”

“She hasn’t found the crossroads yet?”

“Nope. She’s been breaking bottles though. She’d smashed three of them when I left. We’re waiting for you before we attack her.”

“Why wait for me?”

“Well, mainly for Kira. She’s a great shot.” Jessabelle snorted. “Come on. You’re one of the best witches ever, and Sean said you took down Evelyn with your kung fu.”

“Um, jiu jitsu.”

“Whatever.” Jessabelle sighed, and the teasing tone left her voice. “I… I watched her fight Annie. I wanted to jump in, but… I was scared. I was afraid she was going to turn me against grandma. Maybe I could have helped, but if she’s that strong… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were right. Under the circumstances, you were better off hiding and waiting for the moment when grandma really needed you.”

“I still feel like a coward.”

“Jessabelle, you are braver than I am. Braver than anyone I know, except maybe Jack, but sometimes Jack doesn’t have the sense to know when to quit.”

Jessabelle snorted. Then she unzipped the fanny pack and pulled out two bottles. Handing them to Jenny, and said, “Here. You should keep these. I don’t know if Grandma is as good at making healing juice as Owen, but we’ll probably need them.”

Jenny placed the bottles carefully in her satchel, placing a bundle of herbs between them so they wouldn’t clink together as they walked. She and Kira followed Jessabelle silently along the stream, then cut to one side of a natural embankment. The rest of the team was there, kneeling or prone, peering out into the clearing. Jenny knelt beside Jack. “How close?” she whispered.

Jack shook his head. “We might not know until she gets there. No sense in waiting.”

“Where is she?”

Jack pointed. Jenny squinted, but couldn’t make out Taliel in the moonlight. Jack fiddled with something at his belt, and then pushed something against her shoulder. She took it, discovering the hilt of a sheathed knife. Jack brought his lips to her ear and whispered, “Don’t take it out of its sheath unless you are ready to use it. It’s magically sharp, and cuts through just about anything. I reckon you ought to have something to defend yourself, if you got to.”

Jenny nodded. With the attached thongs, she tied the knife to the strap of her satchel.

Jessabelle took a protective amulet from her neck and handed it to Jenny. “Put this back on me when I’m the panther,” she whispered. “It’s one of Lisbet’s. Ain’t as good as the ones you make, but it ought to help some. I’ll hit her from behind and run. While she’s coming after me, y’all shoot her.”

“She doesn’t need to chase you,” Jenny said. “She just needs her magic.”

“I reckon she still needs to see me, right? I’ll be running faster’n any of y’all. While she’s distracted, y’all finish her off.”

Arlan shrugged. “I don’t like it, but unless anyone has any better ideas…”

Nobody answered. Jenny wanted to ask for more time. In ten more minutes, maybe she’d get a better idea. Annie had suggested that Taliel could be searching for the crossroads for hours. Surely that meant they had a little more time?

Before she could say anything to that effect, Jessabelle transformed. In a blur, she turned into a great hunting cat, sleek black fur glistening in the moonlight. With unsteady hands, Jenny slipped the amulet over Jessabelle’s head.

One of the Wardens rose from his hiding place and stood, dropping his bow onto the ground. Jack motioned for him to get down, but the soldier ignored him. For several seconds, he stood motionless, staring without focus into the darkness. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then his head twisted to one side and jerked back with a terrible crunching noise. He collapsed into a heap where he’d stood.

From the clearing, Taliel called. “I’m tired of doing this the hard way. I know you are there. One of you will show me exactly where in this clearing the portal is, or I will murder you one by one.”

The dimmed sunlight moved slowly through the window, the only proof that Sean had been trapped for minutes or hours instead of days. He hadn’t lost consciousness yet, which suggested that whatever spell he was under was different from the one that had afflicted Harris. He could breath, and even shift his weight to get more comfortable, but any time he gained the strength to take any significant action, it was stripped from him the moment he tried to rise. Sometimes even the moment he gathered enough will to take action. He couldn’t speak or cry out for help. Twice he managed to push himself forward with his toes some fraction of an inch, which left him completely exhausted.

After his howl, Leendert had seemed to settle back into his half-sleep. At some point, Sean felt himself doing the same, in spite of his panic. He dozed as the fatigue of the last several days took its toll, and the energy kept draining from his body. Fighting against it only left him more enervated.

Harris slumped to the floor nearby, somewhere he wasn’t facing. “Sean?” the preacher croaked.

Sean tried to answer. “Yeah,” was the best he could do, voicing a whisper.

Seconds ticked by. Harris finally gasped, “Bad.”

After several breaths, each of which Sean fully intended to use to answer, he gave up. If he could muster the will to speak, he could instead use it to wiggle closer to the stairs. Trying to not even think, he pushed himself forward. Much to his surprise, he pushed himself a good distance.

Something that had held him in its grasp broke, and suddenly he could pull himself to a stand. He walked over to Harris, who was also struggling to stand. Energy and strength flowed back into him by degrees. He helped Harris to his feet.

Harris pointed back toward the storage room. “There is something terrible back there!”

“No. Not terrible. Well, okay. Kind of. But he’s not our enemy.”

Raising an eyebrow, Harris said, “If you say so, Sean. But it wasn’t friendly to me when I came down here. Can you get rid of it?”

“Actually, I’m taking him with me. We have business up the creek…” At that moment, Sean heard the sound. A footstep at the top of the stairs. “Somebody’s here.”

Another footstep, as something descending the stairs unhurriedly. “I don’t hear anyone,” Harris said.

Sean’s shoulders slumped. “Then it’s another ghost.”

Could it be Avery, finally coming to claim Sean? Or maybe it was Debbie, returned one last time? He wasn’t ready for who he finally saw.

She stood in all her regal glory, mocha-skinned and dark-haired, wearing a red shirt and black jeans. She smirked as she spotted Sean, and her eyes flashed, betraying a violet glimmer within her pupils. “Hello, Sean.”

“Evelyn!”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? It’s also hard to believe that Cheryl has learned a little bit of subtlety lately. That candle upstairs would have been a real bitch if I’d been here in the flesh. It was easy enough to blow out in my current form. That was Cheryl who set the candle, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. It wasn’t you who called for help, was it?”

“No. That was the priest, Leendert. Another ghost.”

“Ah. It felt like he promised rage and a side of revenge. Very tempting, although I was able to ignore his first two calls. Well, I’m here, and I’m looking for revenge. Where do I sign up?”

Sean took a step back. “Revenge against who?”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Thadeus, of course. He’s the one who killed me, not you, but you were really cute about trying. Although, if I’d known you were down here, I doubt I would have blown out that candle.”

Harris pointed at Evelyn. “Is that… is that a ghost? Of that woman—the witch…?”

Sean looked over his shoulder. “Yes, sir. It’s her.”

“Sharp-witted as ever, Padre. So, what is the plan? Where’s this Lean-Dirt guy? What are we going to do?”

Harris glared, but his hands shook. “How do these spirits get into the church?”

“You never protected it,” Evelyn said. “It’s still a public house, with an open invitation to all. But protecting such places is a nearly lost art these days.”

“I wouldn’t trust this spirit, Sean.”

Sean nodded. “I don’t. She tried to kill me.”

With a snort, Evelyn said, “Hardly. I was trying to avoid killing you, but you made it difficult. Just as you are doing now. I didn’t have to come here, and I didn’t have to blow out the candle and ruin Cheryl’s spell. I suppose I can go back to sleep. Or, you can let me help. Just tell me what we’re going to do.”

In life, Evelyn had been a liar and a murderer. Or, at least an attempted murderer. She had been evil, manipulative, and extremely dangerous. Even if her ghost only represented a fraction of the woman Evelyn had been, she was dangerous. He still couldn’t trust her. But he could trust Debbie, and her description of being summoned by Leendert’s cry. It made sense that Leendert’s call had awoken the ghost of Evelyn seeking revenge, and he could trust that motivation. Taking a deep breath, Sean answered, “We’re going to shut down the crossroads. Permanently.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Bold. And yes, that will certainly hit Thadeus where it hurts. Can we do it?”

“Leendert did, once. I think with my help, he can do it again.”

“With your help? Wow. How long have I been gone? When did you turn into a super-hero?”

Sean didn’t answer, and it didn’t look like Evelyn expected him to. Sean looked over his shoulder, and Leendert nodded to him, motioning to the stairs.

As they exited the church, Sean grew aware of dozens of scattered figures standing amid the long, late-afternoon shadows. Gravel crunched as he reeled backward. Harris reached out to steady him. “What’s wrong?”

“We have company.”

Beside him, Evelyn peered out over the dirt road. “Where?”

“You don’t see them?”

Leendert pointed. “Spirits, seeking revenge, like you.”

Evelyn shook her head. “Looks like my Sight isn’t any better now than it was before. Thadeus didn’t trust witches with strong spirit Sight. If any of the Alphas or Betas had it, they learned to keep quiet about it.”

Harris slowly shook his head. “I don’t like any of this. Maybe I just don’t understand, but this feels wrong.”

“Then you understand it enough,” Sean said. “There’s really nothing to like. I finally know a way I can stop Thadeus, but we don’t have much time. If it doesn’t work, a lot of people are going to be hurt or killed.”

Leveling his gaze at Sean, Harris asked, “And if it does work? How many get hurt or killed then?”

Sean didn’t look at the preacher. “Hopefully a lot less.” The answer was as much for himself as for Harris, and it clicked. Sometimes there weren’t any easy solutions, were there? Sean had been looking at things as a number of bad decisions on his part, but what was the alternative? Could he have made any other decision that would have made all the difference and stopped Thadeus without further bloodshed or pain? Was doing nothing, to avoid hurting others, truly the right thing to do? He couldn’t believe that. Maybe this was another bad decision, but it was the right thing to do. “Maybe a whole lot less.”

Harris said nothing for a moment, then lowered his eyes. “Fair enough. Is there anything I can do?”

“Tell Hattie what happened, but not yet. She’d try to stop me. Also, tell her that Bella and Clarence are dead. Thadeus had them killed.”

The preacher’s eyebrows shot up. “I have met Clarence. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Also, if you could, please check in on my dad, Don Williams. He’s in the hospital in town getting tests.”

“I will. Are you certain there’s no other way?”

Sean took a deep breath. “I really wish there were.”

* * *

It was already getting dark in the mountains when they neared Annie’s old house. The path was far more obvious than he’d remembered. It made sense. He hadn’t been back since the night they’d fought Evelyn. The Coven had been coming and going for weeks.

Sean took cover behind a tree, sneaking peeks at the house. The treetops absorbed every ray of sun, leaving only black and dark gray. Soon there wouldn’t even be that. What he could see, as the early twilight settled around their path, was the dark shapes emerging from the forest behind him. The phantoms joined the procession without a noise or a word. While they followed him, their eyes remained fixed on a spot in the distance, at the end of their winding path.

“The ghosts all seem to know where the crossroads are,” Sean said. “Can you sense where it is?”

“No,” Evelyn answered. “But on some level, we can all feel the magic being used to open it.”

“Do the ghosts all have the Sight?”

“No. But this whole area, down past Maple Bend and Branton, flows with strong energy. It’s part of them. Part of me, too. Thadeus didn’t do much with ghosts—he was nearly as blind to them as I was—but he knew that leaving a trail of death and despair would work like…” She paused, trying to grasp the right comparison, and then laughed. “Like fertilizer, I guess. It builds ghosts out of emotions and memories. It strengthens witchcraft. And, over decades, it can even open a portal.”

“Builds ghosts?”

“Don’t ask me. It wasn’t my specialty. It feels strange to admit it, but this isn’t me. I’ve been trying to remember things I know I should know, like my phone number, or my next-door neighbor’s name. Nothing. But I remember everything about Thadeus. I know I hate him. I don’t remember ever hating him. I feared him. I strongly disliked him. I considered betraying him on any number of occasions, but I was too afraid. But I never hated him like I do now.”

While it felt strange to hope for something like hatred, it was his only hope that Evelyn and Leendert would remain on his side.

“Is Thadeus at the crossroads?” Sean asked Evelyn.

Leendert answered instead, the first time he’d spoken since the church. “No.”

Sean peered at the old house. It appeared abandoned and deserted, as always. But it was along the now well-traveled trail to the crossroads, and the perfect spot for guards to keep watch.

“Want me to scout ahead for you?” Evelyn asked.

Sean frowned. “Scout ahead, or warn them?”

Evelyn cast her violet-tinged eyes skyward. “You still don’t believe we’re on the same side? I could have warned them and been back by now. You know why I am here.”

“Sure. Sorry.”

As Evelyn vanished, Sean looked over the dark-eyed faces of the spirits behind him. He couldn’t guess why they were here. If Thadeus really didn’t keep people with much clairvoyance on his staff, then the ghosts wouldn’t even be a distraction. They’d be little more than an audience.

That, and a group to join when this was all over.

One of the ghosts was different from the others. Its eyes didn’t have the violet light, and when it turned its head to glance at him Sean felt his heart pounding. Had one of the Coven simply been following this whole time, camouflaged by the mob of ghosts? The impostor was a dark-haired woman, but at this distance, Sean couldn’t see much else. Only that, unlike the others, she hadn’t stared single-mindedly at her goal. It was that, more than a glint of violet he could have missed, that caught his attention.

Ducking low, Sean approached the impostor. She turned as he drew close, fixing him in her gaze. A sparkle of recognition appeared in her eyes, even as confusion filled her face. He felt the same confusion, mixed with a thousand other emotions. “Debbie?”

She looked at him as if drunk or drugged, and spoke softly. “Hi. I know you.”

“It’s me. Sean.”

“Sean.” She slowly wiggled her lips, as if tasting the word. “I’m sorry. I feel like a space case. I know I should remember you, but I can’t.”

Sean dropped his gaze. While a part of her remained behind, this wasn’t the Debbie he’d spent the last day with. That part had been lost on the road to the hospital, or in the fight against the giant. The spirit in front of him didn’t even remember him. It had all been erased. For all practical purposes, this was the original Debbie, after a factory reset. Was she less of a soul now?

“It’s okay. My mistake,” he said, trying to convince himself that it was all for the best. She’d wanted to forget, hadn’t she?

Evelyn appeared at his elbow. “We’re clear as far as I can tell. They don’t even have any cameras that I can find.”

Sean nodded, and turned back to Debbie. “Look, you have to run. Get far away from here. As far as you can. Okay?”

She half-smiled, and shook her head. “You are trying to protect me, aren’t you? I appreciate that, but I ain’t here to be safe. I’m here…” She looked around at the ghosts surrounding her. “I’m here for justice. I think maybe they are too. I’m with them.”

Sean turned. “Leendert?” He approached the phantom priest, who stared blankly with the rest of the ghosts. “Leendert, I need you to send these home. We don’t need them.”

The Dutchman didn’t respond. Sean reached forward to touch him on the shoulder. Leendert turned with a hiss, violet eyes blazing. Sean pulled his hand away. “Sorry! Sorry! Leendert, we need to send these ghosts away. They serve no purpose.”

“Bah. They are not here for you. You said do this. We do this. Let us go!” Leendert said nothing else, turning his face again in the direction of the crossroads.

Sean sighed. The old ghost was right. So was Debbie. Only minutes ago, Sean had chosen this course, and now they had chosen theirs. He had no right to deny them. When this was all over, perhaps he’d join the army of vengeful ghosts.

They marched. In spite of the trail being more worn down, it felt longer than it had been in June, the last time he’d come. The sky consumed the last bit of sunlight, and the last several minutes he followed the trail by the moonlight that leaked through the trees. At last, he spotted bits of illumination behind the trees. Drawing nearer still, the rumbling hum of generators met his ears. He slowed, trying to catch sight of any guards silhouetted by the artificial lights. Going off the trail would only make much more noise, so he trusted his luck, dropped his head down, and continued along the path until a short distance before the clearing, where he chanced dodging behind a thick-trunked tree.

The shallow pond had been dammed up with mud and sandbags, re-channeled well away from the crossroads. Trees had been removed and the clearing widened, and in the higher, flatter spots tents of all kinds had been erected. Three figures stood bathed in spotlight-like beams in front of the crossroads, hands held, focused. One on the right shook something like a maraca, while the one on the left held a leafy piece of a tree branch fanned it slowly in the direction of the crossroads. Other figures sat at the edges of the illumination. One man even sat in a lawn chair with a canned drink in his hand, watching the three standing in the light.

“There it is,” Sean said. “Leendert, can you…”

The shriek might have only been audible to those with the Sight, but it pierced the night as any human scream would. Sean spun around.

Evelyn’s figure stood transfixed upon a glowing violet blade, and then her figure blurred and collapsed into the knife, like the last few ounces of bathwater going down the drain. Avery inhaled deeply, a satisfied smirk on his face. “You weren’t protected by candles that time, witch!”

The shock of the sudden attack took seconds to register in Sean’s brain. His immediate instinct was to seek out Debbie and step between her and Avery. “Debbie, run! Get out of here!” he yelled.

She stepped back, but didn’t flee. Avery leered past Sean at her. “You like this one? I like it too. It’s awfully kind of you to bring me a feast. So nice, I may even forget to come back for you when I’m done taking care of dear Annabelle.” Avery’s figure took on a stronger, more physical aspect, and his eyes gleamed brightly. “Lucky for you, I ain’t got time to waste right now. The living take too much out of me to… what did that witch say?… Harvest. Yeah. I like that. Bringing in the sheaves.” He swung his knife like a sword before him, fixing his glowing eyes on Debbie.

Leendert howled. The ghosts turned their suddenly blazing eyes on Avery. In response, Avery whirled and stabbed his knife into Leendert. The old Dutch priest’s cry changed, and the ghosts around him simply stared.

Leendert reached for Sean, flailing with one arm. Sean tried to grab it, but felt little more than air. As his hand passed through Leendert’s, he heard a voice whisper, “Take my rage. Do not let him have it.”

“How?” Sean said out loud.

“Pull, not push. Take, not give.” For a moment, Sean thought of Bella’s last words to him. “Yank it and shake it!”

Leendert’s image shimmered in the air, distorting as Evelyn’s had done. Sean concentrated. Instead of thrusting himself upon the ghost to strike him as he’d done with the plat-eye, he pulled. He felt Leendert’s presence, diminishing by the moment. He grabbed hold of what he could, and pulled. He felt the tug-of-war against Avery’s knife, and the energy holding the spirit shredding and dissolving, but without destination. With a flash of violet light, Leendert was gone.

Avery stared at his blade and frowned, then turned his burning eyes to Sean. “Well. Looks like you may have learned a new trick, don’t it? You know, that devil can wait another day for me to go through his precious little doorway. I think I need to attend to some more important business. Bringing in the sheaves.” With a fierce grin, he raised his knife and lunged toward Sean.

Sean reeled, the knife edge missing him by an inch. Avery, not constrained by the physics of the living world, shifted position instantly, laughing as he appeared to Sean’s side, thrusting his knife.

It stopped short again, this time because Debbie held his arm. Avery whirled on her. “Well, little darling. I had no idea you were so anxious to be next in line. You got it.” In an eye blink, he’d plunged his blade through her chest. Debbie screamed, and her image wavered.

Sean dove forward, his hand grasping the air, his hand passing through Avery’s dark form. Again, Sean felt only air, but it was icy and painfully cold. He grabbed hold and pulled. His entire body went numb with the freezing blackness of the part of Avery he took into himself, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t dare stop.

Avery whirled again, striking with his knife. With his free hand, Sean grabbed the blade. This, at least, was physical—physical and terrible. Blood dripped onto the ground. The icy cold around his hand took on new levels, a frozen spear driving through his arm into his heart.

Sean stared into Avery’s dead eyes. “Sophronia taught me something else the other night. Want to know what it was?” Avery, for a change, had nothing left to say. No further taunts. Sean continued, even as the ice threatened to close his throat. “She taught me that the living have strength over the dead.”

With that he increased his grip on the blade, heedless of the pain, and pulled. “Take it and shake it,” Bella had said. He took. He shook.

Everything he had tugged at the essence that was Avery. The two were in check, as the knife drained Sean, and Sean reached towards the place where Avery’s heart would be, if he’d ever had one. The balance shifted, and Avery’s mouth opened wide to make an unearthly shriek. The violet glow of the blade faded, and the blade itself dissipated like smoke. The terrible cold disappeared along with it. A brilliant glow descended on them both.

Avery hurled himself back, but even over the distance, Sean kept pulling, draining whatever it was that held Avery together. As his form turned smoky, Avery cried, “This ain’t over, kid! You will need to sleep, and I will be your nightmare!” With that, the specter vanished.

Sean clenched his left hand, slippery with his blood, as feeling gradually returned to his limbs. It was then that he realized the glow that had settled on him came from one of the strong lights, augmented by three flashlights. More importantly, several of the people at the edge of the clearing aimed guns at him.

No words were spoken. None were needed. As one group, they attacked. Bullets and arrows streaked into Taliel, and it was only Jenny who saw the flash of blue-white energy as the rounds struck a magical barrier, with no appreciable drop in the brilliance of the armor. Even Jack’s thunderous shotgun blast had little effect.

Taliel strolled forward at a leisurely pace. Kira was the first to finish reloading her rifle, and she fired a second round that centered on the middle of Taliel’s forehead. Taliel made a squeezing motion with her fist as Kira prepared another shot. Kira coughed and made a gurgling noise, as blood ran from her eyes and flowed out of her mouth. Jenny rushed to Kira’s side, but Jessabelle’s bodyguard had already ceased moving, laying with bloody eyes staring sightlessly into the sky.

Their last rifleman fell, much as Kira had, taking aim at the witch. Blood steamed from his face, and he collapsed, his body landing over the stock of his weapon.

Lisbet’s voice came to Jenny. “Are you there? Can you hear me?”

“Yes!” Jenny said. She kept her voice low, knowing Lisbet could still hear her. “Where are you? We need help!”

“Still following the creek. If we’re in range for you to hear me, then we should be only fifteen minutes away.”

“We don’t have that long!”

Jessabelle charged in behind the witch, tearing at her ankles with her jaws, wearing away at the magical shield more than attempting any real damage. Taliel spoke words in a foreign tongue with a voice that boomed like thunder, striking at her tormentor, but Jessabelle sped away before it landed. Another volley of fire pounded into her. This time, the flashes had obviously dimmed.

“It’s working,” Jenny shouted. “Keep it up!”

However, they were running out of people to keep anything up. Arlan and another Warden kept up the barrage of arrows, and Jack let loose another blast from his shotgun. Whether he ran out of shots, or realized it was not working quickly enough, he drew his sword and charged Taliel. She moved to block his attack, but rather than strike with the sword, he smashed into her, knocking her over and landing on top of her. With his sword he bore down on her, the light flashing and ebbing under his attack. Jessabelle followed suit, tearing Taliel’s legs with her claws. It would have been horrifying if Taliel didn’t still maintain the upper hand.

Jenny moved to a dead Warden, and pried the rifle out from under him. She’d never fired a gun before, but how hard could it be? It was the reloading down the muzzle with the paper cartridges that confused her. But the Warden had been just about to take a shot.

Again, Taliel spoke in a foreign tongue with a voice that did not sound human. Magical energy coalesced around her, and she grabbed the sword by the blade, and yanked it from Jack’s grasp. With a tremendous push she sent him hurtling through the air as if he’d been struck by a car. She chanted again and kicked Jessabelle-the-panther, her blow causing a brilliant flash expending the protective magic of the amulet. Jessabelle flew sideways, striking a tree with a sickening thud unaccompanied by any sort of protective flash.

Taliel stood, taking Jack’s sword by the hilt. Arlan and the remaining Warden resumed their fire. The Warden’s arrow bounced off Taliel with the last glimmer of her protection. She glared at him as she strode forward, sword raised. Arlan’s shot struck her squarely through the rib cage, and she gasped in shock.

Jenny aimed down the rifle, but it was so difficult to hold it steady against a moving target. Taliel reached toward Arlan with one hand, and he rose off the ground. She clenched her fist, and his limbs wrenched into impossible angles, folding over themselves with the sound of snapping bones. She stabbed the Warden through the chest with Jack’s sword, driving it all the way to the hilt, and then released the blade to let it and the man fall at her feet.

Jenny fired, aiming for the witch’s heart, relying upon the close range for an easy hit. She struck Taliel’s right shoulder instead, causing a terrible bleeding wound. Taliel ripped the arrow from her chest and tossed it to the side. Jenny held the rifle steady, even knowing it was no longer any threat, and backpedaled as Taliel charged, chanting again in the alien magical language.

The witch grabbed the firearm by the barrel, and yanked it from Jenny’s grasp. With a tremendous one-handed swing, she struck Jenny across the side with the stock of the weapon shattering the wooden stock as it sent Jenny flying, her magical protection shielding her from most of the impact.

Jenny struggled to her feet as Taliel rushed her again. While the blood remained, Taliel’s shoulder had completely healed. Taliel reached for her throat, and Jenny fell back on her jiu jitsu training to defend and redirect the attack. She partly succeeded, keeping her throat free, but Taliel grabbed her by her hair and started dragging her across the clearing.

Jenny screamed, struggling against the witch who pulled with as much strength as a weightlifter three times her size. In her agony and desperation, Jenny noticed one thing: Taliel was growing short of breath. She was weakening. Too late, but she was weakening. Maybe the additional troops Lisbet promised would arrive in the nick of time?

With a final heave that lacked her former strength, Taliel dumped Jenny in the middle of the clearing. “I have worked very hard to keep this body ageless and without any injury. It’s a lot harder to heal than my real body. I want to make you hurt, too, for a very long time. You have no idea how long I’d force you to live, and how much pain I’d make you endure for this insult. Consider yourself very, very lucky I do not wish to waste my time doing that. Show me where the portal is.”

Jenny felt and saw the weighty magical energy behind Taliel’s words. It rushed toward her, flowed around her, stripping away the amulet’s protection. The queen frowned, grabbed Jenny by the hand, and squeezed. Jenny felt her protection shatter, and then felt the bones in her hand do the same. “Do you feel that?” Taliel asked. “With a few words, I can make myself as strong as a giant.”

Neither Jenny nor Taliel had seen the figure kneeling where Jenny had dropped her satchel. Neither noticed it approach, until the moment Jack stabbed Taliel from behind with the magical dagger. Taliel screamed, releasing Jenny, and whirling to backhand Jack. Jack reeled away, the flash of magical light flaring weakly but Taliel pursued him, striking him again. This time, hardly any magic remained to soften her blow. Jack staggered even as Jenny sang the protective spell to cover him again.

The queen grabbed Jack by the throat with one hand, and reached around with her other hand to remove the knife from the middle of her back, grimacing as she did. Holding the bloody knife to Jack’s belly, she said, “Shall we see how he looks from the inside? Do you think you can heal that, Jenny?” She pressed with the knife, and renewed protective light pulsed. Jack squirmed and shoved, but whatever witchcraft Taliel had used to give herself incredible strength held.

“Time is running out, Jenny. How long can you keep this up? Show me the portal, and I’ll be gone. Where is it?”

Jenny repeated the words of the protective spell, but the weight of Taliel’s magic distracted her. She resisted the urge to point with her broken hand, fighting through the pain and the exertion of her spell. But something inside her, either subconscious or responding to Taliel’s witchcraft, made her glance at the tree by the crossroads, where she knew the real witch-bottle sealed the path back. She lowered her eyes as soon as she realized what she was doing, but it was too late.

Taliel smiled. “Thank you.” She stabbed one last time at Jack’s belly, the knife turning away with one brilliant explosion of light, and hurled him down on top of Jenny. Jenny screamed in pain from the impact. Rolling away from Jenny, Jack gasped and reached down to his stomach. Something had gone through, and he was bleeding.

The terrible wound on Taliel’s back closed itself as she strode toward the crossroads. Feeling around the tree until she located the invisible witch-bottle, Taliel yanked it, snapping the cord. With a mighty swing, she shattered the bottle against the trunk of the tree, breaking the seal that blocked the Coven from entering Around the Bend.

Jenny’s hand throbbed. The more Jack struggled, the worse he made his wound. They both needed healing, but Jenny could tell she was reaching the end of her reserves. Taliel had been correct; she couldn’t keep it up forever. But she only needed a few more minutes, and Lisbet’s forces would be there to finish off Taliel. Just a few more minutes.

Taliel would be gone in seconds. They could re-seal the crossroads behind her, but it wouldn’t last long. How long before Taliel, the Coven, and Thadeus at full power smashed through? Hours? Days? Wasn’t there some way to protect the crossroads in a hurry, the same way she protected people?

In desperation, she began singing her mother’s protection song one more time. But this time, she focused not on herself or a friend, but on the crossroads. It was a strange way to use the spell, but it was something she was good at. Even as Taliel oriented herself and began laughing with glee as she discovered the glowing roadway, Jenny snapped the protective spell into place.

The queen screamed in frustration. It must have worked. Jenny felt weak and light-headed, but felt the tiniest bit of satisfaction at her temporary victory. She just had to keep this up for ten more minutes, right?

Jack’s cough snapped her back to reality. She tried to stand, but her legs were wobbly and didn’t want to move, and she felt the tiniest amount of vertigo. She crawled to the satchel using her forearms, but every movement of her right hand brought shooting pains and the wet grind of broken bone.

The queen pounded on the barrier, grunting at the strain of physical force as well as magical strikes that caused brilliant blue-white flares to explode. For now, the protection held. Perhaps the devil’s daughter was discovering the limits to her own power.

Jenny grabbed the strap of the satchel with her uninjured hand, and made the agonizing crawl back to Jack. He held his stomach, but his hands were covered with blood made black in the bright moonlight. Jenny opened the flap of the satchel, and felt how damp it was. “No! No no no no!” She said. She tilted the wet bag over, and soaked herbs and broken glass fell out.

Then the other bottle rolled out, still intact. She tried to open the potion, but with one hand wet and the other broken she couldn’t pull the stopper off. She dragged her finger across the candle-wax seal, but it wouldn’t come free.

“Jack! Jack, I need your help. I can’t get the bottle open.”

Jack turned his head to her. “Sure thing. Just a sec.” He pulled his hands away from the stomach wound, and wiped them on the less-soaked parts of his shirt. He reached for the bottle, but his hands shook. He took it from her and tried to open it. The bottle slipped from his hands and landed next to him. “Hands are still slippery,” he said, his voice weak. He coughed again. “Give me a sec to catch my breath.”

“No, there’s no time! Take the potion now, Jack. Whatever it takes.”

He patted the ground beside him until his fingers closed around the bottle. “There it is,” he said, his voice soft and slow. But he made no effort to lift it. His body seemed to relax.

Nearby, the sounds of Taliel’s strains took on a jubilant note, as the barrier weakened and dimmed.

“Lisbet, please hurry,” Jenny cried. Lifting herself on her elbows and squinting to clear the tears of frustration, Jenny pushed closer to Jack, placing her hand on his wet, heaving chest. Completely ignoring Owen’s advice, she poured everything she could into the song. In the darkness, she had no indication if it was working or not except for Jack’s eyes opening wide and his sudden cry of pain.

Her vision swam. She hoped it was enough.

Taliel laughed exultantly as a final strike caused the barrier to sputter. How much time had passed? Certainly not enough. Even if it killed her, Jenny was going to try one more spell, throwing everything left at it. She forced herself seated, ignored the spinning around her, and focused on the words of her mother’s song. “Angels surround it, angels protect it…”

Taliel reached out with one hand, and from several yards away, Jenny felt the force around her throat, stopping her words. The force contracted, crushing her windpipe and the blood vessels going to her head. Her vision darkened around the edges to a single tunnel.

The final crush never came. Her neck wasn’t snapped at the spine. She felt Taliel’s spell weaken. Just like Jenny, she’d discovered the end of her endurance. As quickly as it appeared, the crushing force vanished.

So did Taliel.

Jenny cried out, her voice rasping against her injured windpipe. She tried again to stand and run to the crossroads to follow, but stumbled and collapsed, landing partly on her broken hand. She screamed, but pushed herself to a kneeling position one more time. She’d crawl on her hands and knees if she had to. She’d face a dozen Coven witches on the other side. She couldn’t fail, not so close…

Lisbet’s voice came to her mind. “Jenny, stop. Do not pursue Taliel under any circumstances. We need you now more than ever.”

Jenny tried to yell, “screw you,” but it only came out as a hoarse croak. Lisbet was right. Jenny collapsed onto the dirt, and the last walls holding back her tears collapsed. So many people had died. They’d done everything, given everything to stop Taliel, and had come so close. Only minutes until victory. She’d not been strong enough. Now everything they knew would be lost, because Jenny couldn’t hold out for a few minutes longer.

“So close,” she choked out roughly through her sobs. “So close.”

Sean suddenly felt very tired as the voices shouted from the clearing.

“Is he alone?”

“Looks like.”

“No, idiot, use your Sight!”

“I still don’t see anything.”

“Did he kill our ghost?”

“I’m not sure.”

“The boss is going to be pissed.”

“Do we shoot him?”

A clear, commanding female voice rose among the others. “Everyone, shut up! Nobody shoots him until I give the word.” One of the figures drew closer, shining the flashlight directly in his face. “Are you Sean Williams?”

Surely they knew that already? Thadeus probably told them to kill him on sight. Still, there was no sense in denying it. If they killed him, maybe whatever was left would haunt the hell out of them. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“What did you do to Avery? That did not look like a banishment.”

In the reflected floodlight, he could make out a few details. She wore some kind of robe loosely fastened over her clothing, and her brown hair was cropped short. He couldn’t determine her age, but she sounded older—probably in her thirties or forties.

Sean shrugged. “I don’t really know what that means.”

“Can you bring him back?”

Sean hesitated. If he admitted he couldn’t, he would no longer be of any use to these people, and they’d probably kill him where he stood. He looked over his shoulder. In the gleam of the lights, he couldn’t see into the surrounding woods, but he glimpsed violet pinpricks of ghostly light staring his way. Was Debbie there, somewhere? Or had she faded for the last time under Avery’s attack?

“You’ve got about ten seconds to answer or we will blow your head off.”

Another voice whispered in his ear, with a heavy accent. “You have my rage. Use it.”

Sean answered the woman. “Um, maybe? Give me just a minute. Promise you won’t shoot me if I do.”

“If you succeed, we won’t kill you.” She put a tiny bit of emphasis on the word, ‘we’. Perhaps it was intended, or subconscious. Either way, it was clear. It didn’t matter. Sean couldn’t bring Avery back if he wanted to. If he could, it would be to finish the psycho false preacher once and for all.

The tiny voice of Leendert spoke again. “Feel my rage. It is my gift to you. They need to feel something.”

Sean wasn’t used to feeling hate or rage. He felt frustration with a simmering, long-standing argument with his father. Was that the same thing? He felt desperation, knowing he was likely to die. He felt pain from his throbbing hand. He didn’t hate these people. He didn’t know who they were. But they would kill his friends. They would kill him. They worked for the man who had murdered Debra Arnot.

The last one triggered something akin to fury. They, their boss, their organization had murdered Bella and her husband. They murdered poor Ray, who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. They had to be stopped. Now.

The voice said, “Is good enough. Now speak: ‘in de dood zullen we onze wraak hebben’.”

Sean bowed his head. “What does it mean?”

“In death, we have revenge. Does not matter. I understand. They will. Is my gift. In de dood zullen we onze wraak hebben. Hurry.”

Sean spoke the words clumsily. As they came out, a howl arose around him, in the combined voice of dozens of dead. The electrical lights shut off, and a hundred points of violet light blazed, and the howling phantoms charged out of the woods towards the people in the clearing.

Sean dodged behind a tree a moment before the guns fired, lighting the surrounding area with lightning-flashes of flame. He dropped prone and waited for the shot that would kill him, but it never came. The gunshots continued, but now they fired in all directions.

Then the screaming started.

He couldn’t see what was going on in the flashes of muzzle blasts and erratic, swinging flashlight beams. Shouts, screams, chanting, and gunfire all mixed together in a confused din that Sean found curiously satisfying. He clenched his fist even more tightly against the throbbing cuts, gritting through the pain and chaos.

The attack seemed to last for hours, but it could not have been more than five minutes. Voices and gunfire continued, receding into the distance as the Coven was driven off by the army of ghosts. Were they all gone? Some of the witches must have had the ability to protect themselves from spirits.

In spite of the lingering threat, Sean stood. He stumbled in the darkness to a flashlight which had fallen to the ground in the clearing. He picked it up and surveyed the damage.

One woman lay face-down on the ground, breathing but making no other movement. Several feet away, a man in a blood-covered shirt lay completely still. Perhaps he’d been mistaken for a ghost in all the gunfire.

The generators still chugged along, heedless of the insanity that had just taken place. Cables leading to the lights had been unplugged. Whoever had unplugged the cables might have saved his life from the initial volley of gunfire. Either he had an ally in the camp he hadn’t known about, or…

“Debbie?” He swung the flashlight around. He hadn’t seen her after she’d been stabbed. Could she have escaped and helped cause this chaos? “Debbie? Are you here? Are you okay?”

He saw nobody aside from the unconscious woman and the dead man. As far as he could tell, there was no human soul—corporeal or otherwise—within earshot anymore. The cries and gunfire were long gone. It was entirely likely that the Coven had regrouped and were now returning to the crossroads. He’d accomplished more than he’d thought possible. Avery was weakened, and the Coven’s efforts had been delayed, if only momentarily. As Leendert had said, maybe it was good enough.

He just wished he’d known what had happened to Debbie.

One last search, he told himself. He swept the flashlight around the clearing, lingering for a moment on where the maraca and a short tree-branch had been dropped. On a whim, he stomped on the maraca to crush it. Maybe the insignificant delays would add up.

He heard the sound of footsteps beside him. He whipped the flashlight around, and illuminated Debbie’s face. She squinted into the light, and held up her hand to shield her eyes. A sheen of sweat glistened along her forehead.

“You’re here!” Sean said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m well enough,” she said, her voice strange. “Who are you?”

This again. Would there ever come a time when he’d reintroduce himself to the ghost and she would never remember him? Not even come to like him? He sighed and reminded himself it didn’t matter. She was a ghost. A spirit. Her physical presence was an aberration. They had no future together. Just memories. Probably only his own memories. It would have to be enough.

“My name is Sean Williams. Don’t worry if you don’t remember me. Just know that I am a friend.”

“Finally. I was expecting friends.” Moving the light, Sean noted that she had a different appearance than he’d seen before. He’d mainly seen her as he met her at the Freshman Party at school just before classes started, but he’d also seen her dressed in her impromptu cat make-up for the Halloween party. This was different. Her hair was lighter in the stark brilliance of the flashlight. But her clothing seemed very out of place for a country girl. Her dress was practical yet elaborate with embroidered designs weaved with metallic thread. Near her left shoulder, the dress was dyed in a strange pattern that resembled blood in the harsh LED light.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Of course I do. Now take me to my father.”

He hesitated. This would be more difficult than he’d hoped. “I, uh, don’t know how to tell you this. It’s about your family. Or, you, rather. Look, we can talk on the way down.”

“I have no need of idle chatter. Brief me on whatever you were instructed, but then I prefer to be left alone with my thoughts. As you can imagine, I’ve had quite a long day getting here.”

This version of Debbie left him with creepy vibes. Perhaps something from Avery’s attack had infected her. Was it possible for a ghost to possess a ghost? In spite of his growing unease, Sean nodded. “Whatever you say. But we need to get going.”

“Are your people near here? You should instruct them that the portal is now open to the other side.”

“Is it? Since when?”

“Since five minutes ago. Also, since you haven’t met me yet, I’ll give you this piece of advice. Do not question me like that again. I find it annoying.”

Alarm bells rang in Sean’s head. This woman looked like Debbie, but she was acting very strange. Was the portal really open? If so, shouldn’t he cross over and warn Annabelle? “Right. Sorry. But I do have some questions…” Sean shrugged, waving the flashlight with the gesture. The beam fell on Debbie. A different Debbie. This one wore cat makeup and silly, cheap cat-ears from Halloween.

“Who are you?” Halloween Debbie demanded.

The Debbie in the dress rolled her eyes. “Is everyone on this side as stupid as the two of you? You were waiting for me, weren’t you? You won’t know my name, but I am your master’s daughter.”

“Wait a sec…” Sean started, understanding finally dawning on him.

Halloween Debbie scowled. “You have something of mine.”

Her counterpart arched an eyebrow. “By that you mean…?” Her eyes widened as the girl in the cat-ears pounced. She raised her arms to block the ghost, but Halloween Debbie passed through her hands, twisting in a mid-air leap. Then, at once, there was only one Debbie, shuddering as if in an epileptic fit. Sean stood with his flashlight on the girl, frozen in helplessness.

“This is mine!” Debbie shrieked.

Then, in a slightly different voice, “Fool! I have possessed it and cared for decades longer than you were alive!”

“Get out! Get out! Get out!”

“Never! No!”

She chanted in a strange language, and for a moment a faint, electric-blue nimbus of mist gathered around her, but it was weak and quickly vanished. She screamed, and stopped. In a blink, and there were two women again. Debbie stood, breathing heavily, hands on her knees. The other woman stood beside her, bearing less resemblance to Debbie than she did Jessabelle Rose and Jenny Morgan—and Sophronia. Her eyes were dark, black pits with a center of brilliant violet light. The new woman’s visage turned from fury to anguish as she spun to face Sean.

“Please! Help me!”

Sean shook his head. “Lady, you’ve totally got the wrong guy.”

Her image had already started to fade. She turned. “I have no anchor here! The portal! I must return. My father will come for me at the citadel.”

Spirits could enter the crossroads, couldn’t they? That had been Avery’s plan? In a split second, the ghost hurled herself at the crossroads.

Sean pulled, just as he had done with Leendert and Avery. He pulled the energy holding her together, against the will that propelled her into the crossroads. The spirit that had been the devil’s daughter shrieked and squirmed.

Sean took it and shook it, and it unraveled. The ghost’s image turned to smoke and dissipated in the air. Her final cry lingered for several seconds after she had vanished, so loud that it must have been heard all around the world. But then it, too, seemed to fade into the breeze. She was gone.

Would it remain that way? Would she now be like Debbie, bodiless, appearing to haunt the forests of Maple Bend on the anniversary of her death, not realizing she was dead?

At the moment, Sean didn’t care. He heard the distant shouts in the forest. The Coven had regrouped. They would be here soon.

Debbie staggered. “What’s going on? Where am I?”

“You are in Maple Bend. Or a couple miles from it, in the woods. Do you know who I am?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Actually, I think so. I don’t know who you are, exactly. But… I know I should. And I know I should trust you.”

Sean nodded, and extended his hand to her. “That’s good enough,” he said, echoing Leendert one more time. “We’ll have time for introductions later. Right now, we have to get out of here. Bad guys are coming.”

“Bad guys?” She looked at him suspiciously.

“The Coven.”

Her eyes widened, and she took his hand. “Yes. I’ve heard about them. They’re bad guys, for sure. But where do we go?”

Sean took a deep breath and pointed. “Around the Bend.”

Her mouth opened wide. “You’re serious? You know ‘bout that?”

“I’ve been there. Annabelle’s there now. And that’s the only place the Man in the White Suit can’t follow.”

Debbie snorted. “Okay, you talked me into it. ‘Round the Bend it is!”

Sean held Debbie’s hand… a real, physical hand, albeit one sticky with what he feared might be drying blood. With a few words of instruction, they stepped through. He felt terror rising that she’d slip through his grasp and end up stranded on the other side, as Jenny had been two months ago when they fled Evelyn. Debbie gripped his hand tightly, and neither let go as they passed through a brief transition of what felt like nothing and infinity at the same time, and then the world around them changed.

The encampment, lights, and generators were gone. The moon beamed down through a nearly cloudless sky. In the distance, he still heard shouts and people approaching, but they were not the Coven. And somewhere, a short distance away, a girl was sobbing hoarsely.

He stepped forward, sweeping the flashlight ahead. Debbie still held his hand in a fierce grip. The flashlight beam fell on a girl on the ground, who raised her head to blink into the light with puffy red eyes, tears streaking her cheeks, and snot glistening on her lip. She looked like she’d been through hell, and only had another trip to look forward through, but in spite of her lack of makeup, tangled hair, the dirt, and the tears, Sean remembered her.

“Jenny? Jenny, is that you?”

“Sean?”

“Yes! We made it through. I need to introduce you to Debbie.”

Jenny’s eyes widened as she peered at the other figure behind the flashlight beam. “No!” Jenny cried. “Sean, that’s not Debbie! Get away from her!”

“It is, though! Her body was possessed, but Debbie fought her and took it back!”

The sounds of people rushing through the forest grew closer. Much closer. Someone on his left cried out, “I see them! It’s Taliel!”

A woman’s voice shouted, “Kill her! Everyone, concentrate your fire on the queen!”

It didn’t take much to guess who Taliel had been. He pulled his hand away from Debbie’s, and stepped between her and the shouts. He waved his hands. “No! It’s not who you think it is! She only looks like her!”

Debbie touched Sean’s shoulder, “What’s going on? Who are these people?”

The woman’s voice in the darkness said, “Wait! Hold your fire…”

Guns went off before she finished her first word. Pain struck Sean’s chest and left leg. It felt as if someone sliced across his right cheek with a hot razor that whined like an angry hornet. He staggered back, stumbling into Debbie, and collapsed.

“What’s going on? No! Stop!” Debbie cried out, as she dropped to her knees and tried to cover him with her own body.

“Cease fire!” the woman in the darkness shouted. “Cease your blasted fire or I’ll personally shove your guns up your…”

“Please don’t hurt Debbie,” Sean called out, trying to cover her with his hands. His voice sounded strange. Definitely not loud enough to be heard over all the shouts and the gunfire. “Please don’t hurt Debbie…!”

The moon, and everything else, faded.

* * *

He awakened to the sound of more gunfire, still staring at the moon but from a different angle. His mouth tasted of blood and something even nastier. “No!” he said, his voice a croak. “Please don’t hurt Debbie!”

“I’m okay,” Debbie said, quietly, from somewhere above or behind him. “More or less.”

Jack’s voice was next. “Ain’t you glad I butterfingered the healing juice now, Jenny?”

Jenny only whispered. “Sean, are you okay?”

Sean raised his head, to look down at himself. He still couldn’t see well in the moonlight, but he didn’t see an arrow in his chest anymore. “Maybe I’m okay. My leg stings really bad though.”

Jessabelle’s voice was next. “Okay. Maybe Grandma’s healing potions are better than Owen’s, after all.”

Sean’s heart leapt. “Jessabelle, you’re here! How long have you been here? How did you get here?”

Silhouetted by the moon, Jessabelle patted his shoulder. “Yup. I been here about a month. But how that happened is a long story.”

Several other voices shouted in the darkness. A woman’s voice, the one who had called for both the attack and the cease fire, ordered the others. “Excellent. We have a prisoner. Keep him bound and gagged. Maybe we’ll finally find out what is happening on the other side of the portal.”

Sean asked, “What’s going on? How long have I been out?”

“Only a few minutes,” Jack said. “I reckon the Coven is sending some folks through the crossroads now that it’s been unsealed on this side. The cavalry showed up just in time.”

“A little late, if you ask me,” Jenny whispered.

Sean sat up, fighting off a moment of dizziness and nausea. His friends surrounded him, all but Jessabelle looking like they’d been on the wrong side of guns as well. Debbie sat with cords surrounding her, and two men in strange uniforms pointed old-fashioned guns at her head.

“What are you doing to Debbie? Let her go.”

A woman approached, cloaked but apparently weaponless. “I’m of half a mind to do that, but it’s not my call.”

Jessabelle released an exasperated sigh. “Lisbet, you are the highest-ranking Warden for a hundred miles, at least. There’s no one else with more authority. If Sean says it’s Debbie and not Taliel, I believe him.”

“Not until I hear his story.”

Debbie quietly added, “I’d like to hear it, too.”

Sean rubbed the area on his chest where he’d seen the arrow. It itched. “Debbie, what is the last thing you remember?”

“I was walking home earlier tonight from the Halloween party. Some drunk guys jumped me. I thought I was dead, or worse. And then… I’m not really sure. I feel like I got into a fight with someone, a woman. And then I escaped. Or was that before I escaped? Anyway, I found myself in Blood Creek, up by Annie’s house. I met this boy, Sean, who told me that Annie was ‘Round the Bend, and that the Man in the White Suit couldn’t get us here. For some reason, I felt like I could trust him. We came here, and before I could even figure out what was going on, people were shooting at us. They shot you, captured me, and asked me bizarre questions. I’ve had a really, really rough night, but I’m glad I lived through it.”

Sean and Jenny shared an awkward glance, and Sean hoped Debbie hadn’t noticed it in the darkness. Knowing her, she probably had.

“Maybe we can go through now,” Jenny said. “If we can get more soldiers on the other side we can take control of the crossroads ourselves.”

“Bad idea,” Sean said. “Thadeus pretty much owns Maple Bend and Branton. He’s killed or run off half the population of Branton, and the police can’t or won’t do anything about it anymore. I get the feeling he’s going to keep going with his plan, at least the half of it in our world, even without getting healed by his daughter.”

Jessabelle shifted position, and cringed. She was hurt. Why didn’t she just shift form and heal herself? “The Coven is a lot bigger than we thought, Jenny. According to Leon, the Man in the White Suit pretty much owns a bunch of government officials.”

“Oh!” Debbie spoke up, ignoring her predicament. “I did some research on that! They were buying up real estate, hiring lawyers, and a bunch of other things. They are really growing. The Man in the White Suit is filthy rich. But, he ain’t a man. Y’all already knew that, huh?”

Everyone nodded.

Lisbet spoke up. “It would be best if we sealed this side up again, and maintained a defensive force here, like we have to the north. Jenny, is that something you can do?”

“Not as well as Annie. And not right now. Not for a few hours. I’d be better off healing people.”

“I’ve already sent someone down to find your grandmother and bring her here as soon as she’s ready. The portals are my primary duty, as a Warden. The war is another matter. What happened to the queen has made things interesting, to say the least. People on both sides want blood.”

Jenny said, “But not Debbie’s! Can we start by letting her free and stop pointing guns at her? She’s not Taliel. I can vouch for that.”

“Nobody can vouch for her,” Lisbet said flatly. “She is the world’s single greatest threat since Hothlurian’s exile.”

“And she’s dead,” Sean said. “Debbie killed her. And then I unraveled what was left of her so she couldn’t come back through the portal.”

Debbie cocked her head to one side. “I did what now?”

“This is going to be hard to explain, Debbie.”

“Then you’d better lay it on me now. I grew up with a witch as a best friend, and I watched The Twilight Zone on my grandma’s TV. If I were to guess, I’d say that I got transported into the future where my best friend is now a grandmother. Except that coming ‘Round the Bend took us about a hundred years into the past. But not really. Oh, and this woman that I remember fighting was my look-alike from this world, and she was almost as powerful as the Man in the White Suit.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. Jack stood, and gingerly removed a very nice knife from its sheath. He walked in front of one of the soldiers, and sliced the ropes that held Debbie with one clean motion.

“Thank you,” Debbie said, rubbing her arms where she’d been bound. “So, am I right?”

Jessabelle whistled. “Not really, but that was surprisingly close.”

Sean shook his head. “Nothing surprising about it. Maybe she’s forgotten some parts, but she knew once. Maybe she can again. Debbie, we’ve got a lot to explain.”

Jenny said, “Let’s start by telling her the most important part.”

“What’s that?” Debbie asked.

“What part?” Sean asked at the same time.

Jenny sniffed and offered a weak smile. “Debbie, you just saved the world. At least for now.

Read on for an exclusive look at the thrilling sequel to Blood Creek Phantom.

Blood Creek Devil

By Jay Barnson

Blood Creek Devil - Chapter 1

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.”

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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!