We slowly made our way to the part of the hospital where they were holding Mildred. I worried that, at any moment, we would cross paths with someone on staff, but the place was deserted. My mind kept wandering back to the awful image of Nurse Caroline lying on the floor with a pool of blood by her head. Weatherton must have used her to power his spells. The symbols on the walls and floor had looked freshly painted. What kind of magic was it? What did the animal symbols mean? Why was he eating his victims' hearts?

The killer could be inside any of the patients or staffers. He could be looking for us right now, hunting us. I hoped Wendy was safe. Luke was with me, and the two of us together had a better chance of surviving an attack by a madman. Wendy was all alone. The quicker we got Mildred out, the better. I only hoped and prayed that Wendy would be outside, uninjured and waiting for us in the woods.

Did I just send Wendy off to her death by asking her to find a raven feather?

I shook the thought away. She was a reader. She said she could feel the echo of the killer. I had to believe that if the killer neared her, she'd know it.

"I think it's the one on the right." Luke said, interrupting my thoughts. He pointed to a door at the end of the hallway.

When we reached the door, I took Mildred's keys out of my pocket and put one in the lock. It didn't work. I tried several other keys before the lock turned. I opened the door and cautiously walked into the room, but before I could make it very far, something shoved against me, and I fell hard to the floor.

"Let me out of here you total piece of—"

"Mildred, it's us!" Luke reached down and grabbed me out from under the old woman.

Mildred's hair swung wildly around her as she struggled against a straitjacket. She looked up at us desperation.

"Mildred! It's me. It's Colina."

She must have thought I was one of the orderlies. I wondered what they had done to her while she was in here. There was a bruise on her left cheek, and her lip was bleeding.

"Stay away from me! I'm warning you! I'm more powerful than any of you realize!"

"Mildred!" Luke shouted.

Her head snapped around, and she stared at him. "You're the death dealer."

"That's right."

"Where's the girl?"

I moved so she could see me. "I'm right here."

"You've come for me. You'll set me free?"

"If you stop thrashing around, I'll get this thing off." I made my way behind her and pulled on the straps of the straitjacket.

"Thank the Goddess." She sobbed.

It took me a few minutes to get the contraption off, but when she was clear of it, Mildred bolted across the room. She stood, shivering against the wall.

"Are you alright?" She didn't look alright. She looked terrified.

She nodded, but her eyes were still too bright. "I will be. I will be. You came for me. You kept your promise. You didn't leave me behind."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to find you."

She looked over my shoulder, as if watching something. "Don't worry, I'll tell her. Stop pushing..."

She's not talking to Luke. I turned and saw nothing. There were no spirits. If there were, I'd have felt them. Whoever she was talking to was purely in her own mind.

I gently touched her shoulder. "Mildred."

She looked back at me and sang, "I saw Susie sitting in a shoeshine shop. Where she sits, she shines, and where she shines, she sits."

How could I get Mildred out of here if she had completely lost track of reality?

Mildred blinked, seeming to come out of her daze, then reached out and patted my arm. "You came. That's all that counts. Are we escaping tonight?" A gigantic grin spread across her face, and she did a little jig. "I wish they didn't take away my runes. I have no idea how this will all turn out. But it's all very exciting."

"No. We aren't leaving until tomorrow."

She sniffed the air. "Something bad happened. The murderer struck again, didn't he?"

"He did. He killed an orderly and Caroline."

"Two this time?" She looked surprised.

Luke answered, "A reader who's helping us says the killer has gone over the edge. He's losing control."

Mildred laughed. "Best we leave before he gets all of us."

"We can't, not until we do a spell," I said. "I want to call on Gloria Kincaid's spirit. I want to see if we can get some answers.,"

Mildred nodded at me. "You had a change of heart. I knew you would. I knew you were too good of a person to leave all these people in here defenseless against him."

I wish she were right. But my reasons for doing the spell were selfish. I had to know for sure if Weatherton's spirit was inside Dean. I didn't want the little voice of suspicion going off in my head all the time, making me wonder whether or not I could trust Luke. There was only one way to know for sure—to find out where the madman was actually hiding.

"We need to get going." Luke looked at the door. "The coast is clear, but we're running out of time."

"Where are we off to?" Mildred asked.

"Dr. Barton's office," Luke answered as he walked out the door.

"You've been through all his books. You should give it up, boy. You're never going to get that other one out of you." Despite her chiding, Mildred followed Luke.

I brought up the rear. "No, it's not a spell to get rid of Dean. It's a spell to bring forth a ghost."

Mildred said, "You're growing to like him—the quiet one. I can tell."

Luke's shoulders hunched at the comment.

I tried to look nonchalant. "We've become friends. He's helped me out a few times."

She gave me another wide grin. "Of course, he would, the way he feels about you. Anyone can see it on him."

I wished the old woman would shut up.

Luke tensed, but he didn't say anything. He picked up the pace, and we followed him down the hallway.

I matched my steps to Mildred's. "Did they feed you? Did they give you water while you were in there?"

"They forced food down my throat and made me choke on water, yes. Those orderlies are the worst. Which one died?"

"Larry," I answered with a whole-body shudder as the image of his dead body flashed against through my mind.

"It's karma. He was a bad man. I'm not surprised that bad things happened to him." She looked sad. "The nurse was nice. Very sweet girl. She didn't deserve to die. Is the reader who's helping you Andrew? Has he finally gotten brave and taken off his protection pouch? Now that would be a thing to behold."

"No, it's a girl I met the other day. Her name's Wendy."

Mildred stopped cold. "Wendy. Dark hair? Dark heart?"

Dark heart? "She has dark hair, but she's been very kind to me. She's been helping us out."

"The girl with the marks on her arms? Scars on her wrists?" Mildred hissed.

I nodded. "That's her. You know her?"

"Don't trust her. She's not what she seems."

"What do you mean?" I didn't know Wendy very well, but I had instinctively trusted her. Mildred stated matter-of-factly, "You aren't taking her with us. Not that one."

"I promised her that she could come," I said, ignoring her warnings. Mildred was not a reliable source for character references.

"She can't be trusted."

"Mildred, you're wrong. She's the one who helped us find you."

"Why would she do that? She has no love for me. It must have suited or helped her in some way," Mildred muttered, though I could tell she was talking to herself.

Luke was up the hall from us. I was tempted to catch up with him and tell him what Mildred had said about Wendy. Yet Mildred had also told me that the last time she'd been put in solitary, she'd nearly lost her mind. Had it happened again? She'd be completely lucid one moment and in the next talk like she'd come unhinged, saying things that didn't make sense.

Wendy was not violent. She'd never shown anything but fear and sadness. I just hoped that when we finally met up, Mildred wouldn't go ballistic again and start yelling at Wendy.

Mildred kept muttering to herself. I didn't say anything, not wanting to provoke her when she was so unsettled.

Our luck held out. We made it to Barton's office without running across anyone. Luke went inside and came out a few minutes later, a black leather-bound book in hand.

"Is that the one?" I asked.

Luke nodded and tucked the book alongside the Ouija board and candles. "Let's hope Wendy can find the feather."

"What spell are we doing?" Mildred asked, looking at the blue bag.

"A finding and binding spell," Luke answered.

Mildred didn't seem to like what she was hearing. She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently.

Luke explained, "We use a Ouija board to call a spirit to us—"

She held up her hand. "I know what a finding and binding spell is, boy, but we can't do it here."

"We have to," I said. "I've tried to get the spirits to talk to me, but they won't communicate. This might be our one shot at finding the answers we need."

She took a few steps back. "It's too dangerous. This place is too full of evil."

"We have protection—a medallion. Luke's done it before," I said.

Mildred threw back her head and laughed. "You really don't know what's going on. Can't you feel the darkness? It's coming out of the walls! It's oozing out of this place!"

I looked around. I did feel something. This place had always had an eerie quality that I'd never liked. But I needed this spell. "A place can't be evil," I said, trying to convince myself.

"Can't it?" She cackled. "Why can't it? You think evil only attaches itself to people?"

I'd stood before the great black abyss during the rituals. I'd felt the things calling out to me from the darkness. I'd heard the unnatural beings, and even worse, had direct contact with a demon. I knew evil existed, but I had never truly believed it could inhabit a building.

"Why would evil come to this place?"

She pointed at the ground. "The spot they built it on. Long ago, the ground below us was used for magic. Sacrifices were made, spells were uttered. And I don't mean spells of healing or white magic."

"Death dealer magic?" Luke asked.

"Something older. Something that took into account the ties between all things. Man, and animal. Something more primitive than what you practice." She gestured wildly. "Its magic fueled by hunger for power, magic fueled by blood. As you know, blood has a magic of its own." She grabbed my arm and traced her fingers across the blue veins barely visible under the surface of my skin. "Blood is your pure essence. It holds your energy. That's why it's used in so many spells. It gives them their power."

Luke put a hand on my shoulder. "That's why the killer writes the symbols in blood—to fuel his spells."

Mildred looked at Luke. "Yes, but this is a darker magic, an older magic than yours. Sure, you can talk to the dead and bind them to you. But can you call on the old ones?"

Luke frowned. "The old ones?"

"You think you've seen all this world has to offer. You've faced evil and demons, true, but there are creatures older than demons, even older than good or evil. There are beings that roam the ether sea, the place between our world and the ones beyond." She let go of me and gestured wildly around her. "They move like giant shadows and dust storms. They roam around, not really aware of you and me. We're like ants to them. We are insignificant, for they were here long before we were born, and they'll be here long after we all perish. They move across the surface of the earth, unaware of our mortal concerns."

"What do they do?"

She laughed without humor. "Would you ask the gods how they spent their time? Would an ant ask a man what he was up to? They exist. They live. They somehow play a part in the thread of all things. But they are unaware unless someone can pull enough power together and make a large enough splash in the pond. If the waves are large enough, maybe they notice."

"And if they notice?" I asked.

She shrugged.

"You think that's what the killer is doing? He's trying to get these older beings to notice him?" Luke frowned.

She shrugged again. "If they are his gods, maybe. Even if he's doing these things in their name, that doesn't mean they're aware of what he's doing." She paused then said, "Probably not aware. He's like an ant to them, but if the killer is trying to get their attention—if he's trying to create enough power on this land where evil has already drenched the ground, where blood has been spilt for more than a hundred years... If he's creating a pool of power and offering, it up to them...in hope of..." She looked off in the distance.

"In hope of what?" I asked.

When she turned back to me, the vagueness had gone from her eyes. She looked saner than I had ever seen her. "What can the gods do for mortal men? The killer isn't mortal anymore, but I'm sure his desires remain the same. The hope is always that the gods will bestow some of their secrets or some of their power."

Luke looked at me, probably trying to decide if I believed Mildred or was just humoring the old woman, but I didn't know if I should or could believe anything Mildred had to say. She'd been stuck in solitary, and just minutes ago she was ranting that Wendy wasn't to be trusted.

But I couldn't deny that something about what the old woman said made sense to me.

"Why would he eat their hearts?" I asked.

"You eat your enemies' hearts to gain their power. It's not unheard of in some tribes. Even some hunters, when they kill their first deer, will take a bite of the deer's heart."

"He's killing the people and letting their blood flow in hopes he'll get noticed by his gods." I looked over at Luke.

Luke shrugged. "It's as good a theory as any. The blood gives him power. Makes him stronger."

"But he's a spirit—" Mildred interrupted me. "And so is the man standing next to you. But if he finds the right spell and takes over the other's body once and for all, then he's not just a spirit anymore. He's solid flesh."

"Maybe the killer is trying to come back. Permanently," Luke said in a quiet voice.

"Or maybe this maniac is just a nut job on a killing spree." I wasn't sure what to believe.

Mildred turned to me. "Don't mock me. You'd best be careful. He started out like one of you—a death dealer." She pointed at me. "If you aren't careful, maybe you'll descend into madness and become like him."

"What? The killer is one of us?" Luke blurted, obviously horrified.

Mildred nodded. "A death dealer. I thought you knew. Did I forget to mention it?" She left us to walk down the hall.

Luke and I stood there looking after her, stunned.

I caught up with Mildred, leaving Luke, who remained frozen in shock. "You think the killer was a death dealer?"

"I know he was, child."

"But you never said anything about this before!"

Mildred could be frustrating, and I was never sure just how far I could trust the information she gave me.

"Didn't I? Maybe I didn't know before. But I know now. The spirits. They told me."

"The spirits talked to you?" Mildred never said she could talk to the dead. Was she a death dealer? Or was she something else entirely?

Her eyes went wide. "When I was in there. I remember thinking that I didn't know if I could make it through. I remember thinking that maybe this time I'd completely lose my mind. Then she came to me."

"Who?"

A sad expression crossed her face. "It was the little redheaded girl they think killed herself. The one who lived down the hall from you. She used to remind me quite a bit of my daughter."

"Sabrina came to you and told you the killer was a death dealer?"

"I think she did. Or maybe I dreamed it. I'm not sure." A confused look came into her eyes, followed by a look of panic.

I patted her arm, exhausted both by the deluge of information and also by Mildred's quickly shifting moods. "It's okay, Mildred. You're out now. Everything will be fine. We're heading out to the woods to meet up with—" I started to say Wendy's name but then changed my mind. I didn't want to hear another rant about how awful she was. "To meet up with a friend."

Mildred gave me a wild smile. "Oh, how nice. I do love walks in the woods at night. Especially when there's a full moon out. Is there a full moon out tonight?"

"I don't know. "I slowed my steps and let Mildred walk ahead of me. falling in with Luke, who trailed behind us. "She says the spirits told her about the killer. Is she a death dealer? Can she actually talk to spirits? She says she can."

"Do you believe her? I know other varieties of mage have some affinity for the spirit world, though their connections are not as strong as death dealers'."

"I'm not sure," I said. "It could just be her imagination. Or maybe they do talk to her." There was no way to know.

He held out the small book we'd found on the altar. "I've been flipping through it. I didn't recognize the symbols and spells in that room." He tapped the book's cover. "But this is my people's magic." He stopped, opened the book, and pointed down to a page. "You said he took out the victims' hearts?"

"I felt my heart being pulled out in my vision." And I heard heartbeats in the air.

"But everyone thought the murder victims were accidents or suicides. If their hearts had been taken, surely someone would have noticed."

Giant, gaping holes in their chests would be hard to miss.

"Unless there wasn't any evidence of removed hearts." He lifted the book. "This is a forbidden book. It's very dark magic that's not supposed to be practiced anymore. There's a spell in here that lets you take out someone's heart magically. You take the heart to gain power."

If the killer could do such a spell, then he had to be a powerful mage. As powerful in death as he was in life. "You think he's a death dealer? Do you think Mildred was right about the older powers, too?"

"I don't know, but if the killer is taking his victims' power, he's gaining more strength with each person he kills."

"How can we stop him?"

An expression of helplessness crossed Luke's face. "I have no idea. I've no magic of my own in this body."

"We're running out of time. Our only hope is for the spirits to tell us something useful. We need something that can help us figure out a way to stop him. Mildred?"

She stopped and waited for us. "Yes, my dear?"

"When Sabrina came to you, did she mention any weaknesses the killer possessed? Did she tell you how we might stop him?"

"You can stop him, child." She watched me with big eyes.

"Me?"

"Of course. You have the power in you." She cackled. "It's always the strongest ones that don't realize what they truly have."

* * *

We snuck out of the hospital and walked through the gardens toward the woods. If Mildred had hoped for a full moon, she was going to be disappointed. Clouds covered the sky. It wasn't storming now, but you could smell the rain in the air. It seemed likely the storm would restart at any minute.

Luke took the lead, swinging his light back and forth, and we followed closely behind. As he swung to the right, he illuminated the dull metal of the fence. I could feel the charge in the air that the wire gave off. The border of the fence made an easy path to follow through the darkness toward the stand of trees. I said a silent prayer under my breath that Wendy would be out there, safe and waiting for us.

As we came upon the woods, light glowed through the trees. I put my hand on Luke's shoulder. "There. Over to the right. The light—it has to be her."

He changed his path, and we followed him across the grass. As we got closer, the light in the woods suddenly went away.

"Wendy?" I called out.

"Thank the Goddess it's you," she answered, turning her flashlight back on. She held a white pouch up to us. "I got them. Three raven feathers. It wasn't easy. I had to ask a half-dozen people who weren't thrilled to be woken up in the wee hours—" She suddenly stopped speaking when she saw Mildred.

"We found her." I gave Mildred's arm a squeeze.

Wendy looked closed-off and cautious. "Great."

Mildred pushed my hand away and growled when she saw Wendy. "You."

Wendy's eyes narrowed. "I don't want any trouble, old woman."

"You were born to make trouble," Mildred threw back at her.

I stood in total amazement watching the two of them. Were they about to get into a brawl?

"There are more important things going on. What do you say to a truce?" Wendy held out her hand.

Mildred spit in the dirt.

Wendy pulled her hand back and glared. For a moment, I thought they might charge at each other.

Luke must have seen the same intent in their eyes, because he stepped in between them and raised his hands. "Ladies. I don't know what's between you two"—he looked from Mildred to Wendy— "but Wendy's right. There are more important things going on. If we're going to have any chance at all of stopping the madman killing people, it's going to take all of us working together."

Mildred and Wendy glared at each other.

Wendy unclenched her hands. "I won't cause any trouble if she leaves me alone."

Mildred muttered a loud, disapproving, "Umph."

What bad blood lingered between these two? I'd thought Mildred was just on some wild tangent, but seeing Wendy's reaction, I realized there had to be a lot more to the story.

The sky rumbled in the distance. If we were going to do this spell, we needed to get it done before the sky opened up.

"I had the vision over there." I pointed to a place a few feet away.

Luke nodded. "Let's get set up before it starts pouring."

* * *

The Ouija board sat on the ground. Three candles surrounded it.

"Before, you had a half dozen candles. Now we only have three," I said as I placed the last candle on the ground.

"It'll be enough." Luke gave me a reassuring smile.

Wendy handed Luke the raven feathers, and he placed them around the board and gestured toward my pocket. "You'll need the medallion."

I looked at him and realized he wanted me to do the spell. Of course—I was the one with magic.

He watched me closely, and a look of sadness entered his eyes.

I put my hand on his arm. "I'm sorry you don't have your powers."

"Don't worry, Colina, everything will be okay. I'll walk you through the ritual. The most crucial thing is that you concentrate."

Things had not gone well with this spell before. "What if something evil comes through?"

"Then you push it back and force it away." He caressed my cheek. "You can do this, Colina."

I looked down at the board and suddenly felt cold. A raw, powerful fear pounded through me as I remembered what had happened the last time, we performed the spell.

I hugged myself. "But I never finished the training."

"True but look at what you've been able to do on your own. You brought me back," Luke said.

"I had help. The old mage—Walter. He helped me."

"He gave you the tools you needed, but you did it on your own."

I leaned close and kissed him. When we finally parted, I looked over at Wendy and Mildred.

Wendy looked embarrassed, but Mildred had a big smile on her face. For a moment, I'd forgotten they were there.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the medallion. I grasped it tightly in my hand. "Let's do this thing." I lowered myself to the ground.

"You have to say the prayer first." Luke sat next to me, so close our shoulders touched. "Remember that when you force spirits to come to you this way, they can become angry and upset."

I took a deep breath and let it out. "Terrific."

"Spirits, they do have physical powers. They can possibly hurt you, scratch you, bite you, even move things," Luke said.

My hand went to my cheek. Luke's banshees had once scratched me so hard I had welts. The first time we did this, books had flown off a shelf, the table had jumped, and the Ouija board had flown across the room.

He squeezed my hand. "Don't worry. You can do this."

I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath.

He looked out into the night. "You're going to put out the call and beckon whatever spirit you're searching for to come to you."

"Gloria Kincaid," I whispered.

"You'll have to focus on her when you do the spell," he said. "Think of her name. Call out to her. The medallion still has some juice in it. It will help protect you if something else comes through."

It was the something else idea that was so unsettling.

The board was, as I remembered, wooden with a polished surface. In the top left corner was the word yes. In the top right corner was the word no. Below the two words were letters from the alphabet, the letters arranged in two rows, and each row arched in a way that created a half circle. Beneath the letters, the numbers one through nine sat. There was no number ten, only a zero to the right of the number nine. And below the numbers was the word good-bye.

The planchette sat on top of the board—a heart-shaped piece of plastic mounted on three felt-tipped legs. At the tip of the pointer, a transparent circle showed the selected letter or number beneath. I just had to put my fingertips on the pointer.

Thinking back to when we'd done this before, I remembered the sweet smell of something Luke had charred. "You burned something when we did this before."

"Rosemary, but we don't need it. We're doing a bare bones version of this spell." He smiled. "Only using what we have."

"Okay." I nodded and took another deep breath. I looked down at the candles. "Matches. I forgot matches."

Wendy spoke up. "I filched some from the orderlies' desk. Larry smokes—er, smoked. Figured you'd need them for lighting the candles." She handed them over to me. "Oh, and I checked in on Hank. He's still alive, but unconscious, in the janitor's closet. I guess the killer didn't think he was worth the effort."

As I lit the candles, I wondered what made someone a desirable murder victim.

Luke reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal fork he'd taken from the killer's altar. He put the point of the tongs against his wrist.

"What are you doing?" Wendy asked.

"You need blood to do the spell. Last time, we had a bowl with pig's blood, but since there's no butcher around..." Before I could say anything, he pressed down and raked the fork across his skin. Little beads of blood popped up. "Smear your fingers with the blood and then wipe them across the board."

Feeling ghoulish, I wet my fingers with his blood and wiped them as instructed. The blood felt warm and sticky on my fingertips. Four red streaks now covered the board.

"Good, and now the prayer. I'll say it, and you repeat it." He said each word slowly.

I repeated him. "Let the flames of the candle protect us. Let the candle flames bathe us in light and force out negative energy. Let the candle flames bathe the four corners of this room in light and force out negative energy. I invite spirits to come through who are helpful. Let those helpful spirits harm none."

He pointed to the board. "Now think of Gloria Kincaid and put your fingers on the planchette."

I put my fingertips down on the pointer and called out in my mind to the dead girl. Luke lowered his fingers onto the pointer as well. As soon as he touched it, it started to move.

A breeze blew across my arms. We are not alone. "Spirit, are you there?"

The pointer slowly slid across the board and stopped on yes.

Then it started to move again, slowly. It moved in a circle before forming a figure eight.

Panic roiled in the pit of my stomach. I remembered what happened when the planchette did figure eights the last time. Something evil had come through and thrown books from the wall and made the table jump. It had taken Luke a great deal of strength to force it back.

Was that same thing happening now? If something evil came through, would I be strong enough to send it back? The pointer started to move faster and faster. I lifted my fingers off, but it kept moving.

"That's bad, right?" I looked over at Luke.

He frowned. "It's bad."

The wind picked up and blew through the trees.

The candles went out. Wendy flicked on her flashlight. Her face was pale, her eyes wide. Mildred was sitting not far from her, her head cocked to one side as though she were listening to something.

The wind picked up until it started to howl like a freight train. My hair whipped across my face, blinding me.

"This is the part where I tell it to go away." I held the medallion out in front of me.

Luke stared off into the woods.

"I need to send it back, right?" I shouted at Luke.

Luke didn't answer.

Wendy yelled at me, but I couldn't hear her over the wind.

I had to do something. I raised my hand in the air and yelled, "Begone!"

As soon as the word left my mouth, Wendy's flashlight sputtered and died, throwing us into darkness.

As the darkness tookover, the world faded from my awareness, and the sound of heartbeats and long,agonizing screams of terror and pain were my only companions.

****