The Cabin Is Always Hungry

DEAD PACIFICA

Part 20

I teleported Margie Yates to the lich-king’s castle.

At first, I thought of putting her in the manor’s tower, but I didn’t think it was a smart idea to dump her in a house full of vampires who could easily rip apart an old woman in seconds. I trusted Duke Henry not to feed on her. His spawns, however…well, not so much.

Lord Zal had plenty of badass-looking towers to put her in, and he often joked that he and Henry should swap lairs because the castle looked like it belonged more to a Vampire Lord than a lich, but Henry politely told him that he didn’t care much about old “crumbling” abodes. Okay, well, Henry didn’t specifically say to Zal’s face that his house needed a contractor. Still, he preferred the amenities that the Last Resort provided for him, his spawns, and his familiar.

But I was irritated that it happened again.

Of all the days, it fucking happened again.

I gave the cult one simple task! One that I thought was very straightforward! And overachieving little shits that they were, they totally blew it out of proportion and made things a bit more complicated. I imagined Xavier would just drive up to the Krane residence, do a little stalking, and then kidnap his sister, but he knew she was too smart for that. With the coven’s help, she and Margie’s location were hidden from tracking spells. Now, these were powerful divination spells, even for humans, so it also took considerable power for Cassie to track their whereabouts.

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to the coven, Elaine used a crude (by Earth human standards) proximity spell. As long as the caster was within a set distance, the target of the spell was shielded from most divination magic, including most tracking spells. Cassie had a vague, general idea of where Vivian was, but Grandma Margie lived in a care home far away from Elaine Krane’s house on the outskirts of Seattle. The Mother Supreme’s influence couldn’t extend that far unless she exhausted herself 24/7, a weakness Cassie exploited. Within a couple of hours of searching, the sorceress found Margie Yates easily.

Okay, I had to be fair. Technically, they did what I asked. They successfully got the coven in a panic. I had done ninety-one sublime scenarios, and over that time I learned that panicking delvers were prone to making big, stupid mistakes to my benefit, and more often than not, their deaths. Vivian just found out her grandmother was missing, and she wanted the whole coven to march down south and get her back from her psychotic brother with or without them. It had become quite a dilemma whether the coven should follow. They were still debating even when Vivian had made up her mind.

But I didn’t want to give Vivian the idea that the manor was the only place I was keeping her grandmother, as Duke Henry did with Wendy. I wanted the coven to stay in the dungeon a lot longer than that so that I could finally reap the essence of a sorcerer again. It had been a long time since that happened, and the essence they would bring (besides being very delicious) would fast-track my trip to New York.

So, Zal’s castle made more sense. It was deep in my dungeon, and delvers usually had to travel a long while to reach it. One of Zal’s many complaints was that it was rare for a party to pick him during Selection. His Selection Door had a fresco of zombies and sword-carrying skeletons killing and eating a doomed medieval city in excruciating detail (his preference), and it was rare for any delving party to pick something that macabre.

Zal’s lair was nestled deep in the valley, just shy of a mile northwest of the abandoned amusement park, and much closer to the mountains. The castle itself was surrounded by a small medieval English village of about twenty-six houses, which hugged the southern side of the valley for the castle to perfectly and creepily loom over it. The whole area looked as if it had been plucked from a very expensive movie set and then left to rot for a decade. At first, the lair might look out of place in the middle of the Pacific Northwest, where the oldest standing building dates to the early 1800s. With [Rumor], the medieval village and the huge castle were a planned expansion of the amusement park that ultimately failed and was abandoned after the fake company I created went bankrupt. I even added a caveat that it had mold issues, but that didn’t stop urban explorers from recklessly seeking it out or me from feeding on them.

When I created this village, I thought of adding an archetype of evil, psychopathic villagers who would chase and scare the delvers around the dungeon, like in Midsommar, The Wicker Man, or countless Dracula movies. It was such a popular trope that even the Resident Evil games did it twice. Until I realized maintaining a population of more than twenty villagers (so it wouldn’t look like a freaking ghost town) would get super expensive real fast in crystals and essences.

Zal raised the idea of moving my cult there, but again, it would still cost me to turn them all into archetypes at the loss of my Pantheon. If they lived in the village, they were a bit too close for my comfort. I still had to be cautious around them since they were still mortal, and mortals had fickle minds that could easily change with the wind and time. They could worship me one day, and the next, they were bringing a hammer down on my Death Core to smash it into pieces! Archetypes were loyal to the bone, at least.

Through necromancy, Lord Zal populated the small village with passable humans that were technically zombified minions. There were plenty of death traps, too. I called this small village by the river Innsmouth—population: eighty killer zombies.

And temporarily, Margie Yates now lived here, too.

“I will see to it that she will be safe here, my lord,” Zal said happily. I really thought he was being genuine, probably because he didn’t have to hang out with zombies all the time.

However, I disappointed him when I said that Margie had to be sedated. “We have to be careful that she doesn’t trigger a scenario while she’s awake.”

Zal huffed. “I understand, my lord. But I grieve the chance to have a normal conversation with a mortal. I grew weary of the others’ slow intellect.”

I smiled. “Careful. Don’t say it too loud, or else Mother Gertrude will hear you.”

“I don’t think about her at all,” he said. Though he looked over his shoulder once or twice, just to be sure.

“Are you sure your zombies aren’t gonna like…eat her or something?” I asked.

Zal put a bony hand on his chest. “Why would you say that?”

“They’re zombies, Zal. They pretty much eat anything.”

“Well, well. Unlike Duke Henry, I have exemplary control of my minions, sire. I see and feel through their eyes, and if I do not like what they’re doing, I’ll command them to stop with just a flick of my index finger. If you are speaking to one of my zombies or skeleton guards, you are actually talking to me! Isn’t that superb? You and I are very much alike, with your many eyes.”

I frowned. “Ah, yeah. It feels like I’ll hardly miss you.”

“No, you won’t, sire. I’ll prevent you from missing me because I will always be right there! There are hundreds of me spread across all your domain! Give me a call, and I’ll always keep you company. Don’t you worry. A Dungeon Lord shall never be alone when danger abounds.”

My frown deepened. Sometimes, Lord Zal had the social intellect of a sloth. “Good to know, Zal. Good…to know.”

“May I ask what you intend to do with your followers?”

“The cult? I sent them home to sleep. I didn’t want them to make the situation worse. Xavcier wants to turn his grandma into something. I still can’t listen to his thoughts, but I knew he was frustrated.”

“Ah. That boy is a gifted killer but a wildcard.”

“Can your zombie dudes keep an eye on them? Xavier, in particular? There’s a limit to Oracle’s nanite cameras.”

“With pleasure, my lord. I’ll summon a thousand zombies to keep an eye on them.”

“Maybe not that many, Zal. Two or three would suffice.”

Lord Zal created a sleeping tonic I dubbed “Sleeping Beauty,” which would put grandma to a dreamless sleep. Only a nearby delver could rouse her from her deep slumber. A kiss on the cheek or a slap on the face should work. Who knows? She might join the delving party once her granddaughter reached her first.

Then the fun could really begin.

Ah. That reminded me. I wondered what Vivian was up to.

My many-eyes couldn’t reach that far north, so I had to rely on Oracle’s nanite cameras, which had been spying on the Krane residence since Vivian and Lauren moved in to start training in the craft.

It had only been two hours since the police contacted Vivian to say that her grandmother was missing from the care home facility. The CCTV footage showed Margie walking out the door on her own, avoiding the half-dozen nurses and nursing assistants, toward the exit adjacent to the cafeteria. The facility was crowded with visitors and patients, but no one noticed her leave as if she were invisible. From there, she walked through the parking lot, down the empty sidewalk, and out of the security camera’s view. It would take the whole staff two hours and thirty-three minutes to notice that Margie Yates was gone, and another twenty minutes before they finally called the police, once they realized she wasn’t anywhere near the facility.

After pouring through the CCTV footage, the cops noticed that a young woman had entered the facility to visit Margie about fifteen minutes before Margie disappeared. I immediately recognized Cassie, who had pretended to be Vivian at Xavier’s behest. She even signed Vivian’s name on the front desk. You would think the nurses by the station would recognize Margie’s own granddaughter, but as luck would have it, the nursing assistant at the front desk was a new hire a month prior and had only met Vivian once or twice. Cassie didn’t have to use magic at all to slip through the facility.

Unfortunately, there were no cameras inside the private rooms, so I had to dive into Cassie’s memories of what happened. Once inside, Cassie claimed to be Vivian’s good friend from work, pretending to drop by with a bag of fresh clothes that Vivian intended to give. Unfortunately, Vivian was called in to work and asked Cassie to do this as a favor since she lived nearby.

However, Margie Yates was too smart to fall for that. She almost pressed the button to call a nurse, but Cassie reacted faster. She pulled the cord out of her reach, seized the old woman’s wrist, and put her under a trance. Then, with physical contact secured to her target, Cassie cast a simple but powerful suggestion spell. The witch was barely in the room for five minutes before she slipped out of the facility once she was sure the spell had taken root.

I jumped into Margie’s memories next, where another nurse entered after Cassie left, completely unaware of what happened. Even when Margie was desperate to call for help, the words never escaped her lips. She took her medications quietly, waited a couple of minutes for the nurse to leave, then grabbed the reusable grocery bag Cassie had brought earlier and changed into the new clothes. She then walked out of the building as the CCTV cameras showed, but I saw more of what happened after it lost sight of her.

Past the CCTV’s blind spot, Xavier, Cassie, and Gordon were waiting in a white van. They shoved Margie inside, secured her with ropes, and sped south toward Oregon, dodging the traffic cams along the road and on the highway. I was slightly horrified by how simple and effective that kidnapping was, and Cassie didn’t even use any magic on the staff to ignore Margie Yates’s escape. That was just pure human negligence and obliviousness on their part. At the very least, that facility deserved a scathing review online.

But before they sped away from the facility, Cassie left Vivian a gift.

A postcard showing the beautiful Mount Selene and the famous Hell’s Peak covered in snow, surrounded by a lush green forest untouched by civilization. In the bottom-right corner, it read: “Greetings from Oregon. Visit McLaren Forest! Wish you were here!”

Vivian was holding that same postcard right now.

It was a message; she knew that quite well. Her brother didn’t even have to sign his name for it to be clear: come home.

Some of the edges had crumpled after she almost balled the postcard into a fist and thought of ripping it in half, but Vivian decided to keep it whole. A reminder of what her brother had done. It was still a shock how Xavier found them. She moved her grandmother twice and under fake names. Even the mother supreme cast a protection spell on both of them. A spell that many in the coven—even her—believed to be quite powerful. They could feel it in the Ways and in how Elaine harnessed it to power her incantations.

But why didn’t it work?

Elaine and Joanna, who had been learning the craft for so long, admitted that they had only just begun to grasp its intricacies. It had only been a year since The Ways had opened up like a raging river, and the magical abilities for the covens across Washington, hell, maybe even the whole world, had grown ten times more potent than they had been in their youth. Things that they were not able to do were now becoming possible. Vivian was learning all of these things alongside them as well, but their skill should not be an excuse for why the divination spell they placed on Margie didn’t work.

Vivian’s eyes were red from crying, and her voice was hoarse from screaming after she pleaded for the others to join her in rescuing her grandma. She wanted to blame Elaine for not casting a better spell, but she couldn’t bring herself to shout and scream at the woman who—even though she was strict and stern, and sometimes a pain in the ass—had accepted her into her own home without question. A woman who didn’t hesitate to teach her the craft when she asked for it.

No, it wasn’t her fault. Vivian blamed herself, and that only made her cry harder.

She couldn’t protect her grandmother. She couldn’t stop Xavier when she had the chance. She wished she had never brought her brother back, and that thought plunged her deeper into the sorrow, helpless to stop her emotions from tumbling out through snots, sobs, and tears.

There was a knock on the door. It was already unlocked, so Vivian didn’t get up to open it and instead turned away from it. After a few seconds, Lauren entered with a tray filled with a ham sandwich, vegetable soup, and a glass of orange juice. But Vivian just wanted to be left alone. They had already forbidden her from going back to Oregon since it was dangerous, so what was there to discuss? They could argue all night, and it wouldn’t change the fact that Vivian wanted to drive down there to save her. She had no time for Lauren or the others treating her like she was still a teenager. She was eighteen! Legally speaking, an adult. She could make the decisions on her own, but they didn’t seem to care about that! Instead, she was trapped in her room with all the windows locked so she couldn’t sneak out. The only way out was through her door, across the creaky floorboards, and down the stairs in perfect view of the living room and the kitchen where the others were.

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There was no way out.

It had been the third time that Lauren got up to Vivian’s room to check in on her, but the girl remained quiet.

“The police are on the case, Vivian. They’ll find her,” Lauren said as she sat on the bed. She lost count of how many times she had said it. “They even sent out an APB in Point Hope. For your brother, too.”

But Lauren could only hear Vivian sniffling. “I made a ham sandwich for you. I took out the crust, too, just the way you like them. I know it’s almost midnight, but you didn’t come down for dinner, and you need to eat. Joanna made the vegetable soup, and it’s very good.”

Still, Vivian didn’t react.

Lauren sighed. “Well, if you’re ever hungry, it’s here. We can call the police tomorrow morning for an update, okay?”

No answer.

Lauren got up and headed for the door. She heard the bed creak and looked over her shoulder to find Vivian, eyes still red, looking at her. “We both know the cops can’t do anything about it. Not with this. They don’t even know what they are up against.”

“Have some faith that they’ll find her, Viv. They’re professionals—”

“And yet we can’t even do that ourselves. He’s growing powerful, my brother. Somehow, he has access to magic that shielded us from seeing and tracking her. The only way is to go down there and stop him.”

“We can’t do that,” Lauren said, and she knew that was a stupid thing to say.

“Do you see anything in the future?” Vivian asked. “Have you tried?”

"Mother Elaine forbade me—”

“Before that, did you see anything?”

Lauren merely nodded. She told only Elaine about it and forbade her from glimpsing any more of it, fearing what it might attract, especially the entity that lived in the woods near Point Hope. While Lauren didn’t ask, she could sense that Mother Elaine, Joanna, and yes, even the others feared the entity Vivian faced that night.

“What did you see? Can you tell me that much? Is my grandmother gonna be okay?” Vivian asked.

But Lauren couldn’t answer that. What she saw…she didn’t want to do that again. “I’m so sorry,” was all she said.

Vivian burst into tears, which surprised her that she still had enough in her to cry.

Lauren left her bedroom. Perhaps it would be better to wait another hour or two before she could check on her. The others were still engaged in a heated discussion downstairs, and she was apprehensive about joining another round of arguments among Elaine, Joanna, and Adrian. It was clear they only had two options: stay or go before it was too late. Lauren couldn’t imagine what Xavier had planned or was already doing to Vivian’s grandmother.

After several minutes, Vivian’s stomach grumbled. She was hungry, but her stubborn self refused to acknowledge it. Her body won out in the end, reminding her with a mild migraine and chapped lips that she was thirsty and needed to fill her belly soon. She got out of bed and scarfed down the sandwich and the soup, determined not to give Lauren the satisfaction of being right. She felt guilty eating all of this food, knowing that her grandmother was still out there. Was Xavier feeding her well? She highly doubted it. She still didn’t fully understand why her sweet and loving brother could turn the way he was. How could he be so broken?

But that entity… she wished for her brother back, but instead it brought out a monster.

“Delve into the horrors, and all your wishes will come true,” she whispered to herself. “A gift.”

She scoffed. It wasn’t a gift at all if her old brother was gone. But then another thought occurred to her. If she came back and went through all of that again, could she wish for her real brother back? Was that possible? She remembered the vampire’s words when he visited her in the hospital. Anything she could wish for and anything she fancied under the breadth of His power. And that power seemed so limitless…and wicked.

“Open the window,” I said to Oracle.

A small swarm of nanites, barely perceptible to the naked eye, ate through the lock. The window slowly swung outward. A cool breeze entered, blowing past Vivian’s back. She shuddered and turned around, surprised to find the window open. For a moment, she held her gaze on it, shocked. Her legs suddenly moved on their own, and before she could think to stop, she was already looking outside, the cold night air biting against her cheeks, searching for anyone who could have done this. Only the darkness beckoned.

And then she looked down and saw her car parked further down the driveway.

Out of all the choices Vivian had made since the day she was born, this, I thought, was the most important. Even when she claimed she had no choice, she did. She chose to grab a backpack from the closet and shove a couple of shirts, pants, and underwear into it. She chose to grab her rain jacket, her wallet, her iPhone, and a small notebook that had been her spellbook. She chose to put on her hiking boots instead of her usual sneakers. She thought of writing a long letter for Lauren, Elaine, and the others that she would leave on the desk for them to find, but she chose to write a simpler one instead: “I’m sorry. Thanks for everything.” Then, she chose to swing her legs out over the windowsill, her bare toes finding the slippery wooden shingles of the lower porch roof, crawled on all fours across that roof, slid down the drainpipes, and then snuck toward the house.

Peering through the dining room window, she glimpsed Elaine, Lauren, Adrian, and Joanna by the kitchen counter, still arguing over whether to ask the other covens in Seattle for help.

“She’s an old woman who’s hurt! We can’t just leave her to die!” Joanna argued. They didn’t tell Margie Yates everything. She wasn’t even aware that her own granddaughter was practicing witchcraft.

“If we march into that forest, we will play right into his hands,” Elaine countered.

“We can handle one boy and his psycho friends,” Adrian reassured her. “We’ve dealt with worse.”

“I wasn’t talking about him, Adrian,” Elaine said. “I am talking about that thing. In all my years, I have never felt such power latched onto that poor girl. If the Crone gives us the grace and mercy of her blessing, we would have rid ourselves of that connection if we could.”

“I can’t keep telling the girl we’ll do nothing,” Lauren said softly.

“We are not doing nothing. We are being cautious. That’s doing something.”

“I’m sorry, Mother Elaine, but we both know that’s bullshit,” Lauren said. “We are letting a woman possibly go through the most traumatic experience of her life. I don’t think this is the time to be cautious. We have to take action before it’s too late! We can’t always be afraid of everything.”

At that moment, Lauren knew she had said the wrong thing, and Elaine scolded her for thinking such foolish thoughts. “Just because you are ready to jump into the maws of a lion doesn’t mean all of us want to jump in with you,” Elaine said. “We will wait and assess what the police have found tomorrow. Then, we can take action. At least we all know where the boy plans to take his grandmother. We shall take some comfort with that.”

“And the other covens?” Adrian asked.

“Tomorrow,” Elaine said with finality.

Hot tears threatened to spill once more, but Vivian wiped them off. Given what Elaine and Joanna told her before, witches didn’t have a centralized organization. Not some big happy family with a grand council of wizards who wrote laws to support all of magic-kind, or something like that. This wasn’t like Harry Potter. Think of the covens as islands themselves in a massive ocean, with their own rules, moral codes, and specialized practices of the Ways. What witches didn’t like above all else was outsiders intruding on their business. Asking several covens to work together was harder than actually teaching a novice a simple fire incantation.

But Adrian was adamant on bringing in the other covens, hopeful that they’d listen to him. After all, he had befriended half of the covens around the Greater Seattle Area, knew them by name and their families, and had been invited to several of their gatherings. His connections were a great asset for Elaine and for the coven. Vivian thought so, too. If there was one witch who could bring the others together, it was probably Adrian.

But he was only one man, and she was afraid it would already be too late. Something horrible was coming, and they didn’t have enough time to rally the other covens, if they would listen. They should have done this months ago, worked to build those connections, and Vivian hated herself for not insisting enough, for not doing enough, and for being distracted instead with learning as much magic as she could. She scolded herself for being so short-sighted. What good was having magic if you didn’t have an army who knew how to wield it? Given what she had seen, one witch was not enough to fight a god.

But Vivian had no choice but to be that witch.

They didn’t see her through the window. She had no idea where Karen and Chloe were, but their cars were still in the driveway. The latter was probably in her room. Before she could think about Karen, she spotted her on the back porch, smoking on the hammock, and staring out at the woods, unaware that Vivian was standing twenty feet away from her.

Vivian made sure to be extra careful as she snuck toward the front of the house. She breathed through her nose to stay quiet as she reached for the front door’s brass handle. To her relief, the door was unlocked. She turned the knob inch by inch, pulling the heavy wooden door inward just a tiny fraction. A sliver of the entry hall came into view. She could see the others’ shadows further into the kitchen, but at least they didn’t have a good vantage point on the key rack.

Walking in to grab them was not a good idea. Even though they were behind the wall, the kitchen archway was less than fifteen feet away; the moment her shadow crossed the hallway, and with the house having some of the oldest floorboards she’d walked on, someone would definitely spot her.

Vivian extended her right hand into the narrow gap. Her pulse roared in her ears as she closed her eyes, picturing the key rack and her car keys with Gary the Snail dangling on it. She then pictured her grandmother’s pale face, the terror she must be feeling right now, and channeled that unpleasant picture down through her arm and out through her fingertips.

Come on, she prayed. Please.

She opened her eyes and focused on the car keys.

A static tension snapped through the gap. On the wall, her car keys gave a tiny rattle, making her heart leap for a split second. Vivian clenched her jaw as she twitched her fingers just like she practiced, and then she pulled back with her mind.

Slowly, the keychain slid off the iron hook and lifted into the air.

Vivian smiled from ear to ear. She had done these types of levitation many times, but the only trouble she had was lifting anything bigger than a small square of hay bale. Car keys were nothing. It hovered in the foyer for a second before she willed the object toward her and snatched them out of the air. Relieved that the others still hadn’t noticed, she pulled the front door shut with the faintest click behind her, rushed down the porch steps as quietly as she could, and got to her car. She opened the rear door and tossed her backpack inside, then darted around to the driver’s side. Her heart battered against her ribcage as she raised the keys toward the ignition.

She froze.

If she turned the key now, the engine’s sudden roar would alert everyone inside the house, and the rest of the coven would come pouring out in seconds to stop her. No, she couldn’t let that happen. Swearing under her breath, Vivian pulled the stick into drive and climbed out of the car toward the rear bumper. She extended both palms toward the trunk and reached into the Ways just like Elaine had taught her, felt its churning swell through her bones, and fought to control a fraction of its power. The Mother Supreme had once told her that she could harness the strength of two, or maybe even three people to push things with her mind if she kept practicing, and Vivian liked to think she had improved upon her psychic abilities.

She had come far from that scared little girl who arrived at Elaine Krane’s doorstep, hoping that magic would save her brother from the clutches of a twisted and malevolent god.

Time to prove she could do that.

Move, she commanded.

The car groaned as the gradually increasing force pushed against it. Gravel crunched softly beneath the tires as the car began to roll forward, gliding smoothly down the incline of the driveway. Vivian walked after it, sweat beading on her forehead as she strained to keep the momentum steady without losing control of the vehicle. Once the car crossed the treeline, which was well out of sight of most windows from the Krane house, she released the magic and the car coasted to a soft stop. Vivian climbed back behind the wheel.

A sudden wave of panic washed over her. Was she completely out of her mind? Going up against Xavier and his psycho friends all by herself was practically a suicide mission. But then she imagined her grandmother bound and terrified in the dark, and the doubt evaporated from her face, replaced only by a surge of resolve. She slotted the key into the ignition, turned it, and the engine sputtered to life.

But before she could step on the gas pedal, the passenger door suddenly swung open.

Vivian gasped as a dark figure slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut behind them. In the dim glow of the dashboard, Karen Sanderson turned to face her with a sly grin. The back door also opened, and Chloe Foster hopped inside with her own backpack that she tossed next to Vivian’s.

“I don’t think they noticed,” Chloe said. It took Vivian a second to realize that Chloe was talking to Karen.

“Good, because I don’t really want to get scolded by Mother Elaine at all,” Karen laughed. “I didn’t take enough Xanax for that.”

“Guys, what are you doing?” Vivian managed to say.

“Coming with you, duh,” Chloe said.

“But Mother Elaine—”

“—Is in the house, still arguing with Aunt Joanna,” Chloe interrupted her. “Those two bicker like sisters. It’s gonna take them a while.”

“But…”

“Well, don’t just sit there, girl,” Karen hissed urgently. “Drive before the others realize we’re gone.”

“Uh…what?”

Karen sighed. “Do you need help with your grandma or not?”

“Um…I do, but…”

“Then, drive.”

Vivian wanted to ask her why they were helping her and were willing to go against Elaine’s orders. In the brief time she had known them, the coven rarely went against the Mother Supreme’s wishes.

Why come with her? Vivian wondered. Karen tolerated her presence, but Chloe barely spoke to her ever since she and Lauren arrived at the house. Vivian even believed Chloe hated her, which she was still trying to figure out why. But she gave the two girls a nod before pressing the accelerator, and then tore down the dark road, leaving the Krane house behind in the dust. She asked for help; she wouldn’t complain now that she had one, even if there were only two of them.

It would take the rest of the coven half an hour to realize that the three of them were gone.

“You asked for me, my lord?” Alan Sawyer asked me as he caught me staring at the lights of Point Hope over the horizon. From the mountain, the town looked quite peaceful, untouched by my foul influence.

“The witches are coming,” I said. “Dead Pacifica is gearing up to film early tomorrow morning, but the hunters are preparing to interrupt the delve. Everyone’s in place. Now, I need you to send a message to the cult and tell Xavier to perform the ritual as we discussed.”

Given how risky it was to communicate with my congregation directly, these rituals were not among the things they’d take out of proportion as they did with Margie, since they involved harnessing The System’s powers. Okay, I was ninety-nine percent sure they wouldn’t take the orders any differently. They didn’t have to kidnap members of Dead Pacifica or the future delvers of Scenario Ninety-Two to perform the ritual.

While Xavier and his lieutenants kidnapped Margie in Seattle, the others were busy collecting (more like stealing) several items that personally belonged to the delvers. A missing ring here. A missing toothbrush over there. It didn’t have to be all of them, but since the Dead Pacifica crew were staying at the hotel, they stole several of their things, which were now on display on an altar in the barn.

I also found it quite funny that they didn’t dare steal from the hunters. They probably didn’t want to get shot for breaking and entering.

Alan nodded. “There has also been a new development with the Gradys. We watched Leo argue with his brother for hours. Oracle has been tapping their phones, but it seems Leo has broken through Danny, and the latter is already driving out of town. Should we intercept?”

I thought about it for a second, but Leo should have gotten the message by now. I got what I wanted for having Leo’s brother here. Yes, it would be nice to have Danny Grady as collateral, just in case Leo became a problem, but I needed him to focus on saving and protecting Charlie Castle. I couldn’t have that if he had to think about his brother as well. I wanted Leo to know that if he went out of line, I could easily bring his brother to me and let him play the same horrible games. As much as Leo didn’t want to admit it even to himself, seeing Danny this close to the dungeon scared him shitless.

The message was clearly received.

“Let him go back to Portland,” I said. “I saved up ten thousand crystals to use the teleportation pedestal just in case we need Danny here if Leo becomes a nuisance.”

Alan looked disappointed, but nodded. “I will deliver the message.” He turned on his heel and transformed into a towering werewolf in seconds, shedding his skin behind him as he bounded for the woods.

I checked up on Danny just to be sure. I saw his car driving along the highway, one among a train of eight other vehicles moving north toward Portland. Teddy Swims was on the radio, but Danny’s thoughts were a million miles away, thinking about his brother and how he found it strange that he was adamant that he leave town.

Danny lowered the volume on the radio and dialed Katie’s number. The phone rang twice before she picked it up. Her voice boomed through the speakers.

“Okay, that was fast. You back in Portland already?” Katie asked.

“No, I’m still on the road,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to be on your phone while you’re driving, idiot.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Danny grinned. “Anyway, I’m just calling to ask you a favor.”

There was a pause. “A favor, eh?”

“Just a simple one.”

“Shoot. What is it?”

“Can you keep an eye on my brother?”

Another pause. “Why? Did he say something?”

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t explain it. I grew up with that asshole, so I know when he’s up to something idiotic. He wants me to leave, practically begged me to, and it gave me a bad feeling.”

“What do you think that is?”

“Fuck if I know. But I can tell you that I don’t like his new friends very much. Have you seen them? I think one of them carries a gun.”

“Dude, this is Point Hope. Everyone carries a gun around here. Jeez. Portland made you soft, huh?”

“I’m just worried about him, Katie. That’s all.”

“Well, do you think he’s working for Mercer again?”

Danny didn’t want to think that. No, he wished that wasn’t the case at all. He breathed through his nose. “God, I hope not. I’ll kill him if he does.”

“In that case, don’t forget to invite me. Sure, Danny. I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “This is not a story, Katie.”

“I don’t know, man. An ex-cartel with a bunch of dodgy people arrives in town? Is the cartel planning a play into Point Hope? What nefarious plans will they have for quiet, peaceful, innocent Point Hope? The horror! The tragedy!” Katie laughed. “Seriously, that shit will blow up around here. Do you know how many bored suburban moms and Rambo-wannabe dads are itching to hear a story like that? Fear sells, you know.”

“Not a story, Katie. Just keep an eye out for my brother. That’s all I ask.”

She groaned. “Fine. I’ll invite him for coffee, but I am not inviting his weird friends. Look, I gotta go. I have a chicken curry that’s not gonna cook by itself.”

She hung up.

Danny let out a heavy sigh. Even after calling Katie, he was still very worried for his brother. Still, he continued driving north and slowly distancing himself from my reach.

“Until we meet again, Danny,” I said as the lights of his car receded further from my many eyes.

For his sake, I hoped I’d never get to use the teleportation pedestals to bring him here, but a lot could happen in a delving night.