Between the four corners of the room she placed four candles. In the little space left within the circle she paced, fanning the smoke from a burning bushel of herbs with a long, brown feather. Then, in a quiet voice that was much less impressive than the mighty shouts of the wizards in the movies, she said simply, “I consecrate this space, seeking only to do good within it.”

Max’s skeptical gaze met mine, and I pushed back a twinge of unease. This felt too much like a twee game, something a young hippie girl with a guitar would do to invoke a muse. She’s the only one who’s come up with a solution, I reminded myself sternly.

At each of the candles, she mumbled an incantation asking the spirits of each direction to lend their power to our “circle.” When the candles were lit and the circle consecrated, she handed a thick, white candle to Max and another to me.

“Hold his hand,” she instructed Max. Then she drew a single quartz point from her pocket and held it over her head. “Badb, Anubis, Hades, Lucifer, Kephas, and all the keepers of the underworld and afterlife in your many names, join us now in this circle.”

She brought her arm down in a fast arc, kneeling so the crystal connected with the ground. The candle flames flickered, throwing eerie shadows on the walls. It must have been a trick of the light, but I could have sworn I saw the shape of a jackal’s head grow into the shadows of the corner, a raven flicker across the ceiling. My throat went dry. While I’d been busy reassuring everyone I was up to the task at hand, I suppose I hadn’t really thought about how serious things were.

This is for Nathan, I reminded myself, looking away from the shadowy shapes that seemed to grow and multiply as we stood helplessly beneath them.

“Bella…” Max’s voice was a hoarse whisper in the silence of the room.

But it wasn’t silence. A strange, humming tension filled the air, dousing the circle with loud, soundless noise.