Still blinded by the dark, Alex started screaming and lashing out wildly with his broom. He felt it connecting with a satisfyingly solid blow and heard a gasp of shock and pain. He kept swinging as his eyes adjusted to the faint light.

It was not the scene he had expected.

Before him on the rocky ground, groaning and holding a hand to his head, lay a young man of around nineteen, with long dark hair, a ratty mustache, and a startled expression. Sitting behind him were five other teens, three boys, two girls, similarly attired in T-shirts, jeans, greasy hair, and astonished looks. They held hands around a small fire and gawped at Alex in fearful silence, with the air of children caught doing something they shouldn’t. Empty beer cans and coiled climbing ropes lay around them. A cigarette dropped as one girl’s mouth fell open, scattering tiny embers.

As he stared back, utterly perplexed, Alex dimly realized he recognized some of the band names on their T-shirts. The noise in the air was a frenetic heavy metal guitar solo, screaming from a battered old boom box.

“Was habe ich getan? Verzeih mir,” the boy on the ground whispered. “Verzeih mir!”

They were on top of a flat, very high rock that jutted out like a balcony over a sea of black trees. The woods below spilled thickly away down a steep slope. Off to the right, beneath the full moon, the tiny lights of a little town twinkled against surrounding miles of darkness. In other circumstances, the view might have been enchanting. Alex stole a glance behind. He could just glimpse the gate’s quivering outline.

“Get away from here!” he yelled at the group, who still regarded him with dumbstruck awe. “Run!” He glanced around wildly. No sign of von Sudenfeld.

“You speak . . . English?” the boy on the ground said weakly. “Forgive me. Please. We were only . . . fooling. I did not mean to summon you . . . Do you all speak English?”

“What?” Alex thought he detected a faint tremor beneath his feet.

“Well . . . demons . . . imps. Whatever you are. Forgive me. We always heard the stories about this place. That the witches summoned you here. But we never believed, we were just joking about it. Please, you must forgive us.”

“Yes. Okay. Right. You’re all forgiven. But only if you get away from here right now. I’m very, eh, very upset at being . . . disturbed.” Alex wagged his fist at them and stomped a foot. As he did, the rock quaked under him again. This time, the others felt it, too. They exchanged fearful looks.