Billy’s visions sputtered to a halt soon after I left Burlington for the countryside. The last thing he showed me was a close-up view of a patch of moss growing in the crook of a tree branch, broken up into dozens of smaller pictures like a mosaic. I don’t know if this meant he was in trouble again or if the image was supposed to help me somehow. I hoped he was okay.
I had completely lost my urge to run. I don’t know what I had been thinking. Of course, I had to return to the lake. There were no two ways about it. I was the sole reason Urszula and Ellen were entangled in this mess. Until they were safe, I had an obligation. In fact, their safety was the only reason I had gone up to Burlington in the first place. I didn’t care about the cash that Wendell promised.
But with each mile closer to the cottage, my dread grew deeper. I had no reason to be scared. I had done exactly what Wendell had asked, so he had no absolutely reason to be displeased. But still my stomach churned at the prospect of meeting him face to face again.
I guess it was his utter mastery of spell craft, the sheer magnitude of his all-knowing, all-powerful abilities that intimidated me. He had the power to take instant retribution and that was terrifying. He could take a life with the ease that most people spout a cuss word. One little burst of anger or impatience and someone dies.
By the time I turned onto that dirt road encircling Lake Dunmore, my heart was pounding like a jackhammer. I parked on the side of the road just before the driveway. That shipping tube was rolling around in the back seat. I snagged it, popped the cap, took out the sword and shook off the swaddling.
With a deep breath I stepped out of the car and pointed my blade at a dandelion. Being riled up as I was, it didn’t take long to spin something loose. My elbow went numb. The tip of the sword quivered. The blossom shriveled and burst into flakes.
That made me feel a little bit better. Armed with a smidgeon of confidence didn’t have a minute ago, I stormed down the drive past that horrid gray Cadillac.
There were no lookouts posted on the porch. No one came to the door to intercept me. And the door was left unlocked. I doubted it was because I had caught Wendell off guard. He simply didn’t consider me a threat.
I flung the screen door open and stomped in. The three of them—Wendell, Ellen and the blonde girl—were sitting in the living room watching the local news. Wendell was wearing a slinky, taupe track suit with a pearly, almost metallic sheen. At first glance, it looked like Ellen was swaddled in a straightjacket, but it was actually her clothing, expanded and merged seamlessly with the fabric of the sofa. She had become one with the upholstery.
Ellen had been crying. Her face was damp and flushed. She sat there gawking at me, but I had a hard time looking her in the eye.
Both Wendell and the blonde girl had empty bowls and soup spoons perched in their laps. It seems they had both had a taste of Urszula’s borscht.
“There he is! There’s our guy, Meg! What did I tell you? I told you he’d come straight back.”
“Why is he shaking?” said the blonde girl. “His face … it’s so red.”
“You feeling alright, kid?” said Wendell, screwing up his eyes.
I pointed the sword right at his belly. “Cut her free!” I sputtered. “You fucking cut Ellen free and get the fuck out of here! And what’d you do with Urszula? Where the fuck is she?”
“Whoa! Calm down kid. Put down that freaking sword and have some soup. The stuff is great. Borscht, I think they call it.”
“I did exactly what you said. You free her right now! And tell me what you did with Urszula.”
