“But if Fin’s in the Otherworld, how could he have killed Colin’s parents?” I ask. “We both saw him in the motel room. He was definitely here.”

Gran sets her candle down on the nearest windowsill, and the house snuffs out the flame, rattling the window frame in an unusual display of annoyance at Gran. “I suspect that similar to a Jabberwocky, Mr. Varra isn’t able to stay in the human world long. When Mr. Pierce’s older brother wounded him so severely, he was forced to return to the Otherworld to recover while his wraiths remained here to bolster their ranks.”

“There’s more,” Rose says softly.

Nora looks from her to her mom. “What aren’t you saying?”

Gran’s face grows grim. “I’m sure Mr. Pierce would never intentionally harm us, but I fear his connection to Mr. Varra is what enabled his wraiths to track him and Anna to the costume shop where they were attacked, resulting in both their injuries.”

Nora shoots Aunt Elaine a sharp I told you so look, and Uncle Roy stares at Gran openmouthed.

Colin pales, but Gran doesn’t stop there. “There’s no telling how strong their connection is,” she says. “I fear…well, I fear Mr. Varra may be able to act through him.”

My first instinct is to tell her she’s out of her mind, but then I think about my nightmare, and about the Radharc, and how it only showed me Fin when I looked at Colin. And Gran—I’ve never seen her this way. Her face is so serious. She wouldn’t say this unless she was sure. No one knows more about magic than Gran.

“Is that really possible, Ma?” Uncle Roy asks, breaking the mounting silence. “I mean, wouldn’t Fin have possessed him already?”

“I believe he might have.” Gran’s gaze drops to Max, who at some point crept closer to the fire to curl up, and I realize with a sinking sensation what she means.

Members of the Ravenguard are strong enough to kill Jabberwockies.

Colin must realize it, too, because he’s shaking his head. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t!”

“You wouldn’t have had a choice, lad,” Gran says.

“He’s been with us all day!” I say.

Gran gives me a pitying look. “That Jabberwocky has been dead for more than a day. The possession probably occurred at night when you were all asleep, and then a wraith delivered the corpse to our doorstep.”

Colin leaps to his feet. I grab his hand, wanting to reassure him, but the spot goes icy cold. I have one terrible second to recognize the feeling of an oncoming vision before it envelops me.

I’m stalking through the woods, my footfalls soft in the underbrush. The blackened trees bend in welcome; the wind sings my name.