"It is, but I still get vibes from people, from places that are strong enough to send them out. How about you?" She looked back at Gage. "We might stir up more in tandem. Are you up for that?"

Saying nothing, he held out a hand. She took it, rose to her feet. Together, they stared at that still, brown surface.

The water began to beat and froth. It began to spin, to spew up white-tipped waves. It roared like a sea mating with a wild and vicious storm.

And a hand shot out to claw at the ground.

Hester pulled herself out of that churning water-bone white skin, a mass of wet, tangled hair, dark, glassy eyes. The effort, or her madness, peeled her lips back from her teeth.

Cybil heard herself scream as Hester Deale's arms opened, as they locked around her and dragged her toward that swirling brown pool.

"Cyb! Cyb! Cybil!"

She came back struggling, and found herself locked not in Hester's arms, but Gage's. "What the hell was that?"

"You were going in."

She stayed where she was, feeling her heart hammer against his as Quinn gripped her shoulder. Cybil took another look at the still surface of the pool. "That would've been really unpleasant."

She was trembling, one hard jolt after the next, but Gage had to give her points for keeping her voice even.

"Did you get anything?" she asked him.

"Water kicked up; she came up. You started to tip."

"She grabbed me. She...embraced me. That's what I think, but I wasn't focused enough to feel or sense what she felt. Maybe if we tried it again-"

"We've got to get moving now," Cal interrupted.

"It only took a minute."

"Try nearly fifteen," Fox corrected.

"But..." Cybil eased back from Gage when she realized she was still in his arms. "Did it seem that long to you?"

"No. It was immediate."

"It wasn't." Layla held out another thermos lid of coffee. "We were arguing about whether we should pull you back, and how we should if we did. Quinn said to leave you be for another few minutes, that sometimes it took you a while to warm up."

"Well, it felt like a minute, no more than, for the whole deal. And it didn't feel like something from before." Again, Cybil looked at Gage.

"No, it didn't. So if I were you, I wouldn't think about taking a dip anytime soon."

"I prefer a nice blue pool, with a swim-up bar."

"Bikini margaritas." Quinn rubbed her hand up and down Cybil's arm.

"Spring break, two thousand." Cybil caught Quinn's hand, squeezed. "I'm fine, Q."

"I'll buy the first round of those margaritas when this is done. Ready to move on?" Cal asked.

He hitched up his pack, turned. Then shook his head. "This isn't right."

"We're leaving the haunted pool to walk through the demonic woods." Quinn worked up a smile. "What could be wrong?"

"That's not the path." He gestured toward the thawing track. "That's not the direction." He squinted up at the sun as he pulled his old Boy Scout compass out of his pocket.

"Ever thought about upgrading to a GPS?" Gage asked him.

"This does the job. See, we need to head west from here. That trail's leading north. That trail shouldn't even be there."

"It's not there." Fox's eyes narrowed, darkened. "There's no trail, just underbrush, a thicket of wild blackberries. It's not real." He shifted, angled himself. "It's that way." He gestured west. "It's hard to see, it's like looking through mud, but..."

Layla stepped forward, took his hand.

"Okay, yeah. That's better."

"You're pointing at a really big-ass tree," Cybil told him.

"That isn't there." Still holding Layla's hand, Fox walked forward. The image of the large oak broke apart as he walked through it.

"Nice trick." Quinn let out a breath. "So, Twisse doesn't want us to go to the clearing. I'll take point."

"I'll take point." Cal took her arm to tug her behind him. "I've got the compass." He had only to glance back at his friends to have them falling in line. Fox taking center, Gage the rear with the women between.

As soon as the track widened enough to allow it, Quinn moved up beside Cal. "This is the way it has to work." She glanced back to see the other women had followed her lead, and now walked abreast with their partners. "We're linked up this way, Cal. Two-by-two, trios, the group of six. Whatever the reasons are, that's the way it is."

"We're walking into something. I can't see what it is, but I'm walking you and the others right into it."

"We're all on our own two feet, Cal." She passed him the bottle of water she carried in her coat pocket. "I don't know if I love you because you're Mr. Responsibility or in spite of it."

"As long as you do. And since you do, maybe we should think about the idea of getting married."

"I like the idea," she said after a moment. "If you want my thoughts on it."

"I do." Stupid, he thought, stupid way to propose, and a ridiculous place for it, too. Then again, when they couldn't be sure what was around the bend, it made sense to grab what you did now, tight and quick. "As it happens, I agree with you. More thoughts on the idea would be that my mother, especially, will want the splash-big deal, big party, bells and whistles."

"I happen to agree with that, too. How is she with communication by phone and/or e-mail?"

"She's all about that."

"Great. I'll hook her up with my mother and they can go for it. How's your September schedule?"

"September?"

She studied the winter woods, watched a squirrel scamper up a tree and across a thick branch. "I bet the Hollow's beautiful in September. Still green, but with just a hint of the color to come."

"I was thinking sooner. Like April, or May." Before, Cal thought. Before July, and what might be the end of everything he knew and loved.