“B-but I sent the flavour of a sweet child, my Lord,” Endorathlil protested. “Not an heir, I grant you, but a nice morsel, offered up exactly as
The Book
prescribes.”
“You call this ânice'?” Vortigen mimicked. As he spoke a blot appeared in the space between them. It took the shape of a rat, its mangled fir matted with blood. Vortigen released it and the corpse dropped to the floor with a sickening thud.
“But Lord Vortigen!” she gasped. “That is not what
I
sent.”
“You have been deceived,” he scowled. “That much is plain, and woe to him who has tricked you. But being a fool does not exempt you from the punishment which Ancient Law permits . . . ”
“P-punishment?” she grovelled. “I only wanted to please your Lordship with a little token of things to come.”
He looked askance at her. “What things?”
Quickly, Endorathlil fetched her second offering from the shelf next to the door. She snapped the lid off the plastic canister, which contained Josh's blood, and held it up to Vortigen.
He retreated, as if the thing were poison.
“It's him,” she coaxed. “The one. I am sure of it.”
Vortigen frowned, then tilted his head inquisitively. Inching forward, he sniffed at the air around the canister. Sniffing again, his eyes widened in wonder.
“Who is this?” he demanded.
“The boy's name is Josh Dempster.”
“And do you have the other ingredients â hair and nails?”
“I do,” she cried, eager to please.
“Then perform the rite,” he commanded. “Perform it now.”
“In your presence, sire?”
“Now!” he repeated. “While the moon is full and my blood boils. Now, if you wish to redeem yourself utterly and take a place of honour in this world and the next. You may have found the youth I have been seeking down the millennia. Where Sirus Blackstone failed, you â his weakling descendant â may have succeeded.”
Hurriedly, her hands shaking, Endorathlil relit her pentagram of candles. She wiped clean her brass offertory bowl and placed Josh's blood and clippings into it, along with a fresh charge of powder. Then, crossing her legs, she settled into a deep trance, murmuring the Spell of Transmigration.
When she touched the flame to her offering, the smoke curled up into the stagnant air. Vortigen, hovering in the farthest corner of the room, inhaled deeply. For a moment Endorathlil thought the Lord of Syde would swoon, the offering drugged him so. He swayed precariously with each breath, absorbing as much of the scent has he could. When the last wisp of smoke had been inhaled, his eyes blinked open and he came as close as he ever would to smiling joyfully. His was a crooked perversion of a smile, though, for smiling is not natural to demons.
“Is he the one?” Endorathlil asked.
“You have chosen well.”
“But is he the one?”
“We shall learn more with the waning of the moon,” Vortigen answered. “Between now and then, he shall visit me. And when the last sliver of the moon is engulfed by night, he shall dwell with me in Syde. As citizen or heir, I cannot say.”
Then Vortigen faded, and Endorathlil was left alone in her darkened room, amazed at what she had just done.
I
an dabbed the corner of his mouth with his T-shirt. The cut on his lip had opened and his bruised ribs ached. He strode through the pre-dawn gloom, fighting back tears. No time for that. “Pull yourself together,” he muttered. If he focused on the job that needed doing, Adele stood a chance.
“Some friggin' meeting.”
He had to give Conky and the old bat credit, they'd laid a pretty good trap. Not that he could have avoided it, but to have thought even for a moment that they actually wanted to talk. He laughed bitterly. “What a rube.”
His head throbbed when he thought about it. Ian spat in the gutter â saliva and blood, the stuff the friggin'world was made of.
If the Dempster kid hadn't come along, none of this would have happened. He couldn't blame Josh, though, or Josh's friend Millie. They'd stumbled into a world they didn't understand. A part of him felt sorry for them, which didn't make what he had to do any easier.
“You get me the vial, and I'll give you these,” Endorathlil had bargained, holding up two plastic containers that held traces of Adele's blood and hair. “Don't retrieve the vial, and your dear sister goes to Syde. Ha-ha.”
He'd struggled to get at the witch, but Conky's minions had him pinned.
“Syde?” he wondered. Where the hell was that? Wherever it was, Adele would not be going there. Ever! “Try for the vial first,” he thought. “If that doesn't work, Endorathlil's scrawny neck won't take much strangling.”
He turned onto Tenth off Quebec Street. The Dempster house stood halfway up the block, set back like all the others on a berm. He cursed when he saw the house was illuminated by a street lamp. On one side, a large chestnut tree cast its shadow. Perhaps there would be an entry route there. Ian walked by, studying the terrain with quick glances: no lights, no sounds, darkness in the windows next door and in the space between. “That's the way in,” he decided, spotting a trellis nailed to the side of the house. He would climb onto the porch roof, across the roof to the little balcony where he'd seen Josh a couple of times, then get in through the balcony door.
No sense waiting. Crossing Tenth, he doubled back, slipping into the Dempster's side yard behind the cover of the chestnut tree. He moved like a panther, alert to every smell, every sound: the padding of his own sneakers on the grass, his controlled breathing. He tested the first rung, tugging hard. The structure was light, but strong. Ian hoisted himself up, scaling the trellis and swinging onto the roof.
Quick! Quick!
He darted across the open space, and ducked into the well of the balcony. Huddled bellow the rail, he peered through the panes of the door:more darkness, punctuated by the glowing numerals of a digital clock and some blinking lights on Josh's computer.
He tested the handle. The door opened smoothly and Ian crept in. He paused. Listened intently. Except for the sleep-breathing of the Dempster kid and the low hum of the computer â silence.
So far, so good
, Ian thought, switching on his penlight and sweeping the beam toward Josh's desk. It illuminated: a sketch pad, a precarious stack of papers, library books (one titled
The Origins of Occult
), coins, candy wrappers . . . but no vial. Carefully he opened one drawer, then another. He explored Josh's shelves. Looked on top of the bureau and under the bed â still no vial.
A faint, gray light seeped in from outside. “Not much time,” Ian breathed. He had to find the vial. He checked the pockets of a heap of clothes at the foot of the bed. Then looking up, he spotted what he was looking for and almost laughed out loud. How could he have missed it? The vial shone like a beacon on a narrow mantle above Josh's head â red, green, yellow, blue, a miniature version of the Northern Lights.
Funny, it had never glowed like that before. He'd always thought of it as a trinket, a bit of cut glass Endorathlil valued for her own peculiar reasons. Now he realized there
was
something strange about it.
Creeping close, he watched the vial's patterned light for a second, then reached over the sleeping boy . . .
Wham!
A fist in the gut sent him sprawling backward, the wind knocked out of him. Ian sprang to his feet, crouching, ready. The Dempster kid squared off, facing him beside the bed.
“You can't have it,” he growled.
“You stole it. Give it back.”
Josh shook his head slowly, and glared.
“She'll never let you keep it.”
“Then she can come and get it herself, and bring back what she took from me at the same time,” Josh said.
“You were warned not to go there, you idiot,” Ian scowled.
“You stole my things. I wanted them back.”
“You got back more than you bargained for, man. You got yourself into a whole lot of trouble by going to Lil's. And now other people are in trouble, too.”
He glanced over Josh's shoulder. He'd never make it out of the house if he rushed the kid. Besides, Ian couldn't do it. He just couldn't.
“Who is in trouble?” Josh asked.
“My sister.” Ian replied, his voice catching. “The only thing that matters to me in this whole friggin'world. That's who . . . ”
He stopped. Behind Josh the vial glowed red.
Seeing Ian's puzzlement, Josh looked at the vial too. “That means âno',” he explained.
“No?”
“The vial doesn't believe your sister is in trouble.”
“What are you talking about!”
“It's alive,” Josh said. “At least whatever's inside it is alive, and conscious of us. It knows things we can't possibly know. It can answer questions. Go ahead and ask it something.”
Ian grinned. “Is this kid an idiot?” he said, nodding toward Josh.
The vial blinked back and forth between green and red.
“Sometimes yes, sometimes no,” Josh interpreted. “But we haven't got time for stupid questions. Ask something intelligent.”
“Do you belong to Endorathlil?”
Green.
“Should I take you back to her?” Josh countered.
Red.
“How do you know my sister is not in danger?”
“It can only answer yes or no questions,” Josh said. “It can't talk.”
But somehow the vial was communicating. It told Ian that Adele was
not
in Endorathlil's power. He couldn't accept its assurances, though. He would save his sister by certain means
â his own stealth and wits and fists too, if it came to that. But the knowledge of the vial persisted and grew.
“Tell you what,” Ian said. “I'll make you a deal. Meet me later today with your friend Millie at Mount Pleasant School. Bring the vial. If everything's okay with Adele, we're even, you keep the vial; if I'm not satisfied my sister's safe, you hand it over.”
Josh smiled and stuck out his hand. “Ian Lytle, isn't it?” he said.
“Yup.” Ian confirmed.
“Mount Pleasant School, ten o'clock?”
“Okay.”
They stood, hands clasped, eyes locked. In that moment, it occurred to Ian that he and Josh Dempster had a way of communicating without words, too. More than anything that had been said, their exchanged glance sealed the bargain.
Suddenly, they were friends.
Sunshine winked between the houses and hedges. Five o'clock. Ian was dead tired. He'd sleep four hours, then head over to Mount Pleasant Elementary School. Conky and Endorathlil would be looking for him by noon. Before that he would drop Adele off at her aunt's.
He hurried upstairs, then down the hall to Adele's room, where he listened at the door. She was asleep, so he tiptoed in. Light poured through the window. Her face gleamed like an angel's against her pillow. Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead.
Instantly, her eyes popped open.
“Hey Bro,” she smiled.
“Hey Sis,” he returned. “You gonna go back to sleep?”
“Yes,” she yawned.
As she lay there half awake he inspected her arms. There were no signs of any punctures. He ran his fingers through her hair, looking for any telltale ragged patches. Again, nothing.
“Sis?” he said.
“Hmm?”
“Has anyone done anything, uh, strange to you in the last couple of days?”
“What do you mean?” Still groggy, she wasn't upset by the question.
“I mean, has anyone scratched you, or pulled your hair? Anything like that?”
“You mean a âdanger stranger'?”
“Something like that, yeah. Or maybe even someone you know.”
Adele shook her head emphatically. “I'd scream so loud their eardrums would burst,” she announced. “I'd kick 'em in the shins, I'd bite 'em on the nose, I'd . . . ”
“Okay! Okay!” Ian laughed. “Go back to sleep.”
She rolled on her side, slipping back into her dream.
He smiled. The vial had been right. Whatever Endorathlil had in her plastic canisters wasn't Adele's blood and hair, and Ian was going to make darn sure the witch and her accomplices didn't get anywhere near his little sister. Until he got her to his aunt's, she wouldn't be leaving his side. Not for a minute.
J
osh wished he had a little sister. He, Adele, and Millie galloped around the gravel field of Mount Pleasant Elementary, playing horses. Adele's whoops and peals of laughter echoed off the dour, old buildings.
Ian wouldn't join them. Instead, he watched from the covered play area, and kept an eye on the perimeter of the schoolyard. Ian Lytle was not in the mood for horseplay. He was jittery.
Still panting, Josh left the game and joined him. They sat cross-legged at the edge of a paved area.
“Adele and I have to leave,” Ian announced. “I'm taking her to her aunt's for a while.”
“When you come back, where will
you
go?”
“Don't know,” Ian said. “Into hiding. Conky and his crew will be looking for me by then.”
“Come to my place.”
“They'll look there, too,” Ian warned.
“We'll stick together,” Josh said, sounding braver than he felt.
Ian smiled ruefully.
“What are you going to do with the vial,” he asked. “You know you could turn down the heat by just giving it back.”
“No,” Josh said emphatically. “I won't do that.”
Ian looked puzzled.
“It's alive!” Josh protested. “Whatever's in there is has helped us. I can't hand it back to Endorathlil. No way.”
Breathless, Millie joined them. “What's up?” she wanted to know.
“We're trying to figure out what to do with the vial,” Josh said gloomily.
“Open it,” she suggested.