I twisted and turned, scanning the massive burned-in symbol that held me. It was a basic magic circle. Any asshole with a library card can learn how to make one, like a bomb from fertilizer or a nativity with Popsicle sticks. It was easy to obtain the info, but unlike those other items, a circle had to have a sequence of elements; the materials, the know-how, and the will to bring it to life. Any one of those things could be the key, but figuring out which is like guessing which wire to cut on a bomb. Snip the wrong one and the whole thing could blow up in your face.

Only with this hoodie-voodie bullshit, you could wind up taking the whole fucking planet with you by unleashing god-knows-what.

Mo’Lock came running back to the room. If he breathed, he would have been breathing hard. His deep sunken eyes were wide and wild. In his arms he had a rake, an ax, a hoe, and a Weed Whacker with the long orange cord dangling behind.

“Don’t break the circle,” I said, “Just place them down where you are.”

Mo’Lock placed the lawn tools down on the floor where I could reach them, then he looked up at me.

“He’s coming.”

I knew who he meant, but I asked anyway.

The ghoul nodded. “He’s walking down the street calm as can be, with police trailing right behind him,” he said. “And he’s big . . . very big.”

“Great.”

I looked at the tools and began to reach for the hoe, but then the Weed Whacker caught my eye. I grabbed it and chucked the cord to the ghoul. He plugged it in.

“Are you sure this is wise?” Mo’Lock said. “I suspect it will take more than that to stop this gentleman.”

I grinned. My face felt tight and bony. I was glad I couldn’t see myself.

“This isn’t for him,” I said.

By the looks of my hands holding the bright orange grass cutter, I could see I was little more than a skeleton with a thin layer of transparent veiny flesh holding me together. Even the lightweight tool felt heavy in my hands.

By now I could hear a ruckus outside. I heard sirens and voices speaking through bullhorns telling the suspect to stop. I could tell by the repeated order he wasn’t listening.

I revved up the Whacker and it sputtered. I yelled for the ghoul to clear the room and to stay out of the skinny man’s way. I wanted him to come after me. I wanted him to break the circle, and I was pretty sure when he saw my indoor gardening he’d do it.