“You need to listen to me,” came the reply. Whereas before they’d heard only a harsh whisper emanate from the stranger in the shadows, now it was the no-nonsense growl of someone who’s lived ten lifetimes in one. “That lady you’re following out there, you can’t believe a word she says. She’s the devil, and you’re nothing but demon guinea pigs to her.”

Isaac, from somewhere—maybe inspired by Sadina’s performance—grasped on to a spout of courage. “We’re supposed to believe you? The guy who was just bragging he’d kill every last one of us if we didn’t come in here?”

“I had to get you inside, somehow,” the man replied, a little too jauntily for Isaac’s liking. “Give me a break, boy. You know how many ways I could’ve killed you once you stepped through that door? The bare fact you’re alive and speaking is all the trust in me you’ll ever need.”

Sadina wasn’t having it. “We should leave. This conversation is getting stupider by the second.”

It was the phrase “guinea pigs” that kept Isaac still. It seemed so . . . certain, such a specifically chosen term. And the stranger had a point—why lure them in here just to talk gruffly and act spooky?

“Just tell us what’s going on,” Isaac said. “Who is Kletter, and if she really is the devil then why’re you bothering to warn us? Why do you care? Tell us why she killed those eight people on the boat.”

He didn’t respond.

Isaac turned to Sadina. “Just say it. Do you trust Kletter?”

“No. Yes. Well my mom trusts her and I trust my mom. So yes. Mostly.”

Isaac sighed.

“You don’t have a choice but to trust me,” the man growled.

“Step into the light,” Sadina added. “I’m sick of talking to a ghost.”

The shadow walked forward, with all the confidence in the world that he had nothing to be afraid of by revealing himself. With each step creaking on the floorboards, wafting up dust, Isaac watched as the light slowly maneuvered itself up the man’s body. Black boots, dirty denim pants, a rough-cut plaid shirt, then a face only a mother could love. He was a gigantic man, well over six feet tall, heavily built, and ugly as a mildewed stump. Scraggly beard; tilted nose; pockmarked skin, red and leathery; eyes that seemed hammered deep into his skull; long greasy hair that had gone beyond needing a wash, something only a sharp blade could defeat.

“That better?” the man asked. “Are you ready to listen?”

Isaac looked at Sadina but she didn’t take her eyes off the newly revealed stranger.

“What’s your name?” she asked.