He is winning, Daughter of the Night. You will fail!

No. No! I will not!

My bare feet give me no purchase, and the linen of my shift tears as I am hauled toward the outer rim. I try to recite further words from the Book of Divine Wisdom, to focus my will, to do anything that might make me stronger, but I am being pulled inexorably out of the safety of the circle. One of the witches tries to open the door, causing several others to cry out and two more to bar his way.

“It must not escape the chamber!” one yells.

As my skin is scraped raw against the rough stones I notice my challenger still standing by the altar, seemingly unaffected by the horror that is unfolding at his behest. He does not attempt to protect himself, nor to help me, as some of the other witches are now doing. But their efforts are ineffectual. They have no time to spellcast, no instruments of magic to hand, no circle of protection. All they can do is try to frighten and bully the demon into going backward. One even strikes it with his cane, but the wood breaks to splinters. The demon clutches at the Silver Thread with its free hand and yanks hard, reeling me in as if I were a floundering fish on dry land. It is too strong!

He is toying with you. You will be defeated, Lazarus child.

I ignore the cruel voice in my head. I know I have only seconds left before the situation becomes completely out of control. Seconds before all my father taught me, all I have worked for, perhaps even the existence of the coven itself, would be for nothing. How can I let it happen? How could I bring this terrible being into the world only for it to break out, unfettered and free, able to do whatever dreadful things its evil soul might crave? I cannot let this happen. I will not! I close my eyes and let myself go limp. I hear a wail from behind me and cries of despair.

“She has given up! Look! She is finished!” someone shouts.

The demon, too, seems to believe his tormentor is beaten. For just a moment it relaxes its grip on the rope and pauses in its efforts to haul me out of the circle. I use that moment. I consider asking the spirits for help. I could call on my guardians, my protectors, who have shielded me so many times when I have ventured into dangerous places looking for Freddie. My loyal Cavaliers, they would fight bravely for me. But no. It is I who am challenged. I must complete the task myself. In one fluid movement I spring to my feet, my eyes open, fixed on the demon.