“The question is what is this creature?” Frank said, pushing Duncan forward. Adelaide recoiled, as if afraid to come into contact with Duncan. There wasn’t much Adelaide was afraid of.

Frank dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of powder that he threw in Duncan’s face. I smelled clary sage and bluebells, the same herbs I’d used in the unmasking spell, and another herb I couldn’t identify. Frank uttered a few words in what sounded like Gaelic. Duncan growled and wrenched his arms free of Frank and Bill. Both men fell back, thrown by a force I felt from several feet away. A great whirling maelstrom was pouring out of Duncan’s arms as he stretched them out to either side. A blazing gold light burst from him, blinding me. I closed my eyes against it. When I forced them open again, Duncan stood before me, only it wasn’t Duncan anymore. Giant wings had sprung from his back and were beating the air into a froth. His skin was golden, his eyes colorless ciphers. His hands had grown long, sharp claws. He raised one of the claws and I stepped back. He stepped with me and laid one claw beneath my jawbone.

“Is this what you wanted to see, Cailleach?” His voice had turned into something strangely musical, like harp strings plucked by steel claws.

“Stay away from her,” Frank and Bill shouted at the same time. They moved to stand on either side of Duncan and me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the blond twins, transformed now into winged monsters, move toward us, but the Stewarts stepped in front of them and raised their shields.

“Ye wee bastards!” growled Angus Stewart in a surprising reversion to a Scottish burr. “How dare ye show your faces in my town?”

“These are the creatures that are behind the Grove’s attempt to close the door,” Frank said in a loud voice so that those remaining in the glade could hear. “They are the ones who attacked the fishermen in the woods and made it look as if it was the work of an undine. Look at the scars on this one’s back.” Frank pointed to the marks that Duncan claimed had come from the bat-winged imp. “Those were made by nephilim claws. They’re liars and fiends who are able to get inside your dreams …” Frank looked at me and I recalled how Duncan had claimed it had been Lorelei who had tried to drown me in my dream, but it had been Duncan all along, “… and would enslave you all.” Frank began to recite a string of Gaelic words. Duncan flinched with pain. The spell was working, but then he recovered, flexed one wing and knocked Frank backward as lightly as if he were swatting a fly.

Duncan turned to me, smiling. “Yes, we are nephilim, the sons of angels …”