He reached down the bed and adjusted the patchwork quilt so that it covered Susan’s bare feet. Then he glanced across at Toby to make sure that he was still asleep. Toby was less restless since they had moved him into their own bedroom, but he still mumbled as he slept, and had bouts of fierce tossing and turning.

Neil stiffened. Toby was sitting up in bed and was staring at him. His small face was white, white as the silvered light from the moon, and his eyes were intense and glittering. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t frowning. His expression was calm and controlled, and because of that, it was even more frightening. Eight-year-old boys grin, or cry, or show some feeling, thought Neil. Why is Toby just staring at me like that?

“Toby,” he said in a hesitant whisper.

Toby continued to stare.

“Toby, are you okay?”

Toby’s eyes sparkled with malevolence. His features seemed to shift and change in the moonlight, one layer of features superimposing another, until he looked liked someone else altogether. Someone older, someone infinitely older, and someone infinitely more evil.

“Toby,” insisted Neil.

Toby rose slowly from the bed, and seemed to glide toward him. He stood only a few feet away, and then he spoke in the voice of Misquamacus, in that hollow distant voice that sounded as if it was inside Neil’s own head, and yet which echoed with countless miles and eons of ancient time.

“You have spoken to the white magician Erskine,” said Misquamacus.

Neil edged one foot out of bed, and then swung his leg to the floor. His muscles were tensed, and he was ready to make a dive for Toby and bring him down. He didn’t have any idea what Misquamacus might try to do, or even how powerful he was, but he wanted to be ready for a fight.

Misquamacus said, “It is good that you have spoken. He will come, along with my treacherous blood brother, Singing Rock, and I shall show them that my manitou is indestructible, and that my vengeance spans fifty thousand moons.”

Neil said steadily, “You must let Toby go. I want you to get out of my son.”

Toby smiled, a slow, laconic smile. “You are powerless to prevent me from lodging here. I shall remain until I am ready. I am here at the direction of my white spirit guide, your ancestor, and because I am here by consent, no magic in the world can move me.”

“I’m going to take Toby away from here,” said Neil. “I’m going to take him to Europe. Anywhere. Just so long as he’s out of your reach.”

Toby shook his head, still smiling. “You cannot take the boy. If you attempt to interfere in the day of the dark stars, you will surely die more painfully than any other white man.”