He nodded and turned away, carrying the lit candle up the stairs. I turned and walked across the street, where the three women waited for me on my front porch. Adelaide was shaking her head at me. “Why did you do that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It felt …” I looked back at Alpha House. Glass tiki candles lined the railing of the front porch, their glow a barrier against the dark. “… right,” I finished. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go check something in Wheelock. I’ll see you in the circle at midnight.”
In Wheelock’s section on teaching magic, I found what I was looking for. When I opened the footnote, I located the spell to become a doorway. It turned out I had already completed the first two steps: make a blood bond to the door you want to open, and empty yourself of all prejudgments. The third step was simply a spell I had to recite at the moment I wanted to open myself. I committed the spell to memory and changed into a long green skirt, body-hugging bodice, and white lace blouse, with a tartan shawl I’d had since childhood wrapped around my shoulders and pinned with the Luckenbooth brooch. A sprig of heather in my hair from the heap of them I found strewn over my bed and, voilà, I was Jennet Carter, off to the Greenwood to rescue Tam Lin. When my doorbell rang, I was ready with a bowl of miniature Kit Kats and Hershey bars.
I swung open the door, ready to greet my first tiny ghouls and goblins, and found a crew of slightly older trick-or-treaters—a rather large Scot in a kilt, with an assortment of fairies.
“Scott!” I said, hardly recognizing my student, with his hair neatly combed back in a ponytail and with a clean white shirt tucked into a plaid kilt. “What are you doing here?”
“Man, Prof, did you forget our folklore party?”
“No, it’s just that I thought …” I turned from Scott to the woman dressed as the Fairy Queen at his side. “Ruby? I thought you were going home?”
Nicky, wearing a Tinker Bell outfit and carrying two large reusable grocery bags, laughed and pushed past Ruby. “You know, we almost did go to New Jersey with Ruby, but then when we all met up at the bus station we realized we didn’t really want to go.”
“Yeah,” Flonia said, carrying more bags over the threshold. “We wanted to be here—you know, with friends.”
At the word friends, a crowd of my students came up the front path. “Is this where the party is?” asked a girl dressed as Alice in Wonderland.
“Yeah,” Scott called back, “this is it. We hope you don’t mind, Prof; we invited a bunch of your students we ran into at the bus station. When they heard there was a party at Professor McFay’s, they all said that sounded better than going home. Hey, cool jack-o’-lanterns, Prof, especially the way you’ve got them wired for sound.”
Scott edged past me to answer Ruby, who was calling him to come in and help, so I didn’t get to tell him I’d done nothing of the kind. Then I was too busy welcoming students to my house to figure out his meaning. I was touched to see how many of my students had come dressed as their favorite fairy tale characters.
“You inspired us,” Tania Lieberman, dressed as Snow White, told me. “We were all planning it, and then we almost forgot and went home. Can you believe that? But then I remembered how much I was looking forward to my first Halloween at college, and … wow, your house is, like, totally cool! It looks like something out of Paranormal Investigations.”
Stephanie Moss, a girl who never spoke in class, thanked me for the comments I’d written on her Beauty and the Beast paper. “I was feeling kind of homesick earlier today, but then I remembered what you said about how the heroines of fairy tales find their real homes in these stories, and that made me think … well, that Fairwick’s my new home. Anyway, I baked you some chocolate chip cookies from my mom’s favorite recipe.”
About twenty of my students had resisted my homesickness spell and stayed—or, rather, they hadn’t had to resist the spell, because they had found a new home with their friends here at college. As they filled my house with laughter and loud voices, the smells of apple cider and fresh-baked goodies, I realized they’d turned my house into a home, too. I didn’t want to leave it, but as it drew closer to midnight I knew I had to. I waited until they were all in the living room playing a game of fishbowl (a version of charades that allowed talking—or at the moment some kind of wolfish howling), and I slipped out the front door.
A chill wind bit into my skin as I left the warmth of the house. I wrapped my wool tartan shawl tighter around my shoulders and hurried down the steps before I could change my mind and turn back. The howling and laughter from inside already sounded far away and from a different world. I was alone in the cold and dark …
Or not quite alone.
Something squeaked at my feet. I knelt and picked up Ralph. Someone had tied an orange ribbon around his neck. “Thanks, little guy. But are you sure you don’t want to stay here and cadge some caramel apples?”
But as I looked up at the house, I saw that neither of us was going back. Three sentries stood on the front porch—an ancient stooped woman in a black dress, a tall redheaded man in patched jeans and a flannel shirt, and a black cat grown to the size of a panther—my jack-o’-lanterns kindled into life.
“You’ll watch over them?” I asked, worried about my unsuspecting students.
The witch, scarecrow, and cat inclined their heads in assent.
“All right, then,” I said, slipping Ralph into my skirt pocket.
I started to go, but the scarecrow stepped forward and handed me a lit lantern like the one Adelaide had held.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the light from his hand. Then I turned and headed into the woods.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The needfire lit my way through the woods, its glow carrying a little bit of the warmth I’d left behind in my home. And not just the warmth of my home but the combined goodwill of the community. Its glow split the darkness and sent the shadows skittering off the path into the woods. I knew that some of the creatures were the ones who had been trapped here when the door closed. They were most likely watching me to see if I’d be successful in opening the hallow door, waiting for a chance to slither through the door before they perished without Aelvesgold. I thought of the creatures Volkov said were lurking in the tunnels and in the woods. Mostly I hoped there weren’t nephilim—although the rustle of wings in the branches above me suggested otherwise.
The deeper I went into the woods, the lower the branches were. I was in the honeysuckle thicket, where the bare branches intertwined above my head like bony hands clasped together. The creaking they made as they rubbed against one another sounded like knuckles cracking—or like nephilim flexing their razor-barbed wings.
At each crack, I ducked my head, and I nearly dropped my lantern more than once. I didn’t like to think what would happen if my lantern went out … but of course I did think about it, imagining how quickly the nephilim would be on me, how their barbs would sink into my flesh and mind, how they would suck the marrow out of my bones and my hopes and memories out of my soul. Those monsters don’t just kill you, Frank had said. They make you wish you’d never been born.
I’d miss Frank in the circle, I thought. Moondance had said that Frank was one of the most powerful wizards she’d ever encountered. Would we be strong enough without him? Had Duncan attacked him to take out our most powerful member, so we’d be too weak to succeed without him?
A fluttering above my head made me flinch. I had the sensation that I was being herded down this path to my death—like cattle driven through a chute to slaughter. Once all the remaining witches of Fairwick were gathered in one place, the nephilim would be able to destroy us all …