The figure’s body creaked again and it raised one of its arms.

“I am the Guardian of the Ring which holds back those demons which are in no human shape. I am the Messenger of the Great Old One, the Chosen of Sadogowah. I am the Keeper of the Elder Seal, and the worker of wonders unknown in future times. My name is Quamis, known to the Wampanoag as Misquamacus. I have arrived for the day of the dark stars.”

The wooden man raised both arms and stretched out for Neil’s throat. Neil, with a high-pitched whine of fear, ducked sideways, and simultaneously struck at his match. It flared up, and caught at the crumpled sheet.

In the sudden leaping light of orange flames, Neil glimpsed a wooden face that was contorted with anger. Fierce eyes glistened above a hooked Indian nose and a mouth drawn back on wooden teeth. It was Misquamacus, the same face he had seen in Billy Ritchie’s photographs, only this time it was vengeful and twisted with rage.

The sheet flared up even more violently, burning Neil’s hand. With a sweep of his arm, he threw the fiery cloth over the wooden man’s head, so that the figure was enveloped in flames. Then he pushed his way toward the door, and struggled to open it.

“Susan!” he yelled. “Susan! Open this door! It’s jammed! Susan!”

He frantically looked behind him. The wooden figure of Misquamacus was standing beside Toby’s bed, and already its head and shoulders were starting to blaze. There was a rank odor of burned cotton and wood.

“Susan!” he shouted, rattling the door knob. “Susan, for God’s sake!”

He thought for a terrible moment that Toby might have done something to Susan, might even have killed her, but then he heard her calling, “I’m here! I called the police!”

“Push the door!” called Neil. “I can’t get out of here! Push the door!”

He turned around again, and to his terror, the fiery figure of Misquamacus was walking slowly toward him, arms outstretched to seize him. There were flames rippling up from the wonder-worker’s chest, and his head was a mass of fire, but he kept coming, and Neil could feel the heat from his burning body.

“You are as weak as the grass against me,” said the blazing lips. “I shall devour you if you try to cross me, and I shall offer you up to the most terrible of my gods.”

“Susan!” Neil screamed. He shook and tugged at the door, but it still wouldn’t budge.

“The door is fastened by my will alone,” said Misquamacus. “You will never open it in a hundred moons.”