Rover sniffed the air … and instantly, the phantom hand disappeared. Amy fell to the floor in a heap. She hacked and coughed, gasping for air and putting her hands to her throat.

Katie tottered slowly into the room, the honey cake held out before her like she was giving Rover a bashful valentine. When she saw Rover’s terrible hot spots, she looked momentarily upset—but then her eyes locked with Amy’s, and she pulled her mouth into a thin line.

“You want some cake?” asked Katie. Rover stepped forward, but she turned away. “You gotta have it downstairs. Come on.” Katie walked out of the room, and to Amy’s surprise and relief, Rover followed hot on her heels.

Once Amy took a few more deep breaths and found her candle where it had rolled under the bed, she stood and went after them.

Chapter 25: Canine Teeth

She found them in the den, Katie kneeling down and offering Rover the wedge of honey cake. Rover had stopped, stiff and alert at the doorway, with his eyes pinned on Miss Dola. The older woman returned the dog’s gaze. Amy wondered if she’d get thrown up against the wall next … but instead, Rover walked almost reluctantly forward and took a bite of the cake on the floor. He chewed loudly with big, hacking bites. Amy knew the dense, sweet cake was probably hard to wolf down the way he was used to doing.

“It’s time,” said Miss Dola. She picked up the smoke cleanser and her lighter, then lit one end. Flame flickered on the herbs for a moment, and she blew it out so that thick, fragrant smoke wafted off them. She waved the cleanser around the room, trailing flickering wisps of white smoke that filled the den with a heavy, spicy smell.

The cloud settled over Rover … and the dog’s eyes half closed. His chewing slowed, and with a huff he lay down on the floor.

Amy felt hope flutter in her chest like a moth, small but fast. It was working.

Miss Dola lit Mom’s candle, and Amy and Dad lit theirs from hers. At Miss Dola’s gesturing, they surrounded Rover and held the candles out in front of themselves. Miss Dola picked up the book and read from in it a low, steady voice:

“Dark one, hear me,” she said. “Let this be your dismissal, and your reckoning.”

From the back of Rover’s throat, there came a hoarse scraping noise.

“Leave this place, and be satisfied,” she read. “Leave us, go in peace, and allow us to retire from your presence without terrible noise or bad odor. Pluto calls you home. Thanatos calls you home. Great living Tartarus calls you home. Enter into this pact, under the sign of three, and obey our command. Begone from here forever, and torment not she whom you have chosen as your own.”