“Is he dead?” a voice asked from behind her.

Lizzie turned to see that Mattie had come back. She still held that teddy bear in her arms like a little kid would, but Lizzie wasn’t sure how much of a kid she really was. Her eyes were anything but a child’s—too old, too calculating. And from what Jilly had said, the teddy bear wasn’t exactly an innocent little toy either.

“Well, is he?”

Lizzie shrugged. “Who cares?”

“He will.”

Lizzie knew the girl meant Del, not this sorry excuse for a priest that lay at her feet. She looked across the field to the farmhouse, then turned her gaze back to the girl’s.

“Only if you tell him,” she said.

Mattie smirked. “You can’t stop me.”

“I guess that’s true.”

Because she’d seen the bear twitch in its mistress’ arms, Lizzie loaded her voice with discouragement, letting Mattie think she was beaten. It was still only a plush toy, threadbare and floppy, but seeing that twitch of movement made Lizzie believe Jilly’s description of how the toy could turn into a giant grizzly bear. She wasn’t going to give it a chance to transform.

She let her shoulders sag and cast her gaze down when Mattie started grinning. But she looked at the little girl through her lashes, chose her moment, then lunged forward.

Mattie cried out as Lizzie snatched the toy bear from her hands. Before she could recover, Lizzie started to twist off the teddy’s head.

“No!” Mattie screamed.

She charged forward. Lizzie stepped aside and gave the girl a boot in the rear to send her reeling off-balance as she went by. Mattie tripped over a root and went sprawling in the weeds. Lizzie returned her attention to the teddy bear. In her hands she could feel the toy swelling in size, changing. The plush sprouted coarse hairs. The sawdust stuffing took on a spongy feel, like flesh. Grimacing, she gave a final twist and the head came free, happily spraying sawdust rather than blood.

Whatever spell had begun to animate the teddy was gone and now it was simply a broken toy, head held in one hand, body in the other. Mattie sat in the weeds, staring in horror, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“No!” she cried. “No no no no . . .”

Lizzie pushed down the sympathy that rose up in her at the pitiable figure the little girl made.

“Now it’s down to just you and me,” she said. “Are you ready to bargain?”

Mattie stared daggers at her. She wiped at her cheeks with her sleeve, then blew her nose in the fabric.

“Why should I?” she asked, her voice gone flat and hard. “You’ve killed him.”

Lizzie shook her head. “Give me a needle and thread and I can have him back, ship-shape, in no time. But first you have to make me a promise.”