"Explain the dire need for secrecy, of course," Lucifer added with mock gravity, "and make it clear that great courage will be required, but that they will not be harmed." His smile returned. "What they don't know won't . . . Well, yes it will," he shrugged happily, "but that's all part of the fun, isn't it?"

Kallaystra was quite familiar with the spell he meant. "May I ask who these boys will be used to kill?" she asked.

Lucifer glanced toward the list of children she'd just given him, and said, "Why, all the nasty demon hosts in Taubolt, of course. Didn't I just explain that?"

Midnight found Joby staring up into the darkness once again, sorting through the hopeless web of anxieties his life had become. He'd found GB's plan appalling. How had the boy even imagined him capable of killing people-demon hosts or not? He wanted very badly to discuss all this with someone other than GB-Jake, the Council, especially his son-but GB was right about at least one thing. Joby had learned long ago that, in a tiny town like Taubolt, secrets known to more than two weren't likely to stay secrets long-especially such explosive ones. With GB's very life at stake, it wasn't Joby's right to divulge any of what he'd been told. That right was GB's alone.

Sleep had become such an infrequent visitor these past few weeks that Joby had trouble thinking even in broad daylight anymore. He closed his eyes again, trying to translate the fatigue that never left him now into the rest that never came, but the sudden crunch of running steps outside on his gravel drive had him halfway out of bed even before the pounding on his door began.

"Joby!" GB pleaded outside. "Joby, let me in!" Pound, pound, pound. "Wake up!"

Tying his robe, Joby hurried toward the door, flipping lights on as he went.

"What's happened?" Joby asked as GB tumbled from the darkness.

"They're gonna go after the Garden!" GB said, still breathing hard, as if he'd run here clear from town. "I don't know when exactly, but it's gonna be soon. Joby, you've got to decide! We gotta stop them now, or-"

"Wait a minute," Joby cut in. "Just . . . Here. Sit down," he said, closing the door and waving GB toward the couch. "How did you find out this now?" Joby asked wearily. "It's after midnight, GB. Couldn't you have waited until-"

"No!" GB exclaimed. "There's no time left, Joby. Don't you get it? They've got us rounded up like cattle here! Everybody thinks we can run up and hide out in the Garden if things get bad, but the demons have found out about it! I don't know how, but I saw! It's in all their heads!"

"Wait a minute," Joby said sharply, his sleep-deprived mind coming suddenly awake. "In whose heads? Don't tell me you've been-"

"I had to!" GB said defiantly. "You may be fine with sitting here and doing nothing, but it's a damn good thing I wasn't."

"Are you crazy?" Joby gasped. "What happened to all that fear of being killed? How many people's minds have you been gallivanting through now, for godsake?"

"I did it while they were sleeping," GB said sullenly. "I realized that most of them would never feel me there if they weren't awake, and just mistake me for a dream if they did. I wasn't caught, was I?" He frowned almost belligerently.

"I don't know!" Joby said angrily. "Were you? Do you know?"

"It doesn't matter!" GB protested. "If we don't do somethin' real soon, my dead ass'll just be one more on the pile here. They're gonna burn it, Joby! The Garden Coast!"

"What?" Joby gaped. "How do you-"

"Would you quit askin' that?" GB snapped. "How many times do I have to say it? I've been in their heads every night this week! I have the names of every demon host in town now. See?" He yanked a wad of paper from his back pocket, unfolding it as he held it out for Joby to look at.

Hamilton's and Donaldson's names were at the top, of course. Below these, at least thirty more were written in GB's neat printing. Other than a couple particularly obnoxious shop owners and two members of the school board, which Joby found as gratifying as it was unsurprising, there was not another name he recognized.

"I've never heard of most of these people," Joby said.

"Well, duh!" GB exclaimed. "Whadaya think, they're gonna stand out in front of Franklin's Hardware and wave at us? These are the people no one knows," he growled, folding up the list again and shoving it back into his pocket. "They're gonna set the woods on fire all around that Garden place, and burn it to the ground, along with anybody who's up there 'helping,' like Hawk," he finished pointedly.

"Oh, God," Joby breathed, not having thought of that yet. "When?" he asked, trying to remember when Hawk had said he'd be returning.

"I couldn't tell," said GB. "It seemed soon, but for obvious reasons, I've been gettin' in and out too quickly to look around for details. So are we gonna stop 'em, Joby, or just sit around and do nothin' like everyone you were complainin' about last week?"

All at once, Swami's urgent plea returned to Joby's mind. Something bad . . . I don't know what yet. But . . . will you help us save this? He'd seen all this coming, Joby realized with a shiver down the length of his whole body. They had told him Swami was a seer, but Joby had never . . .

"There won't be anywhere left for us to go," GB pleaded. "We'll be stranded here in Taubolt while they pick us off like hunters at a duck club."

"I can't kill people," Joby murmured in a daze. "I'm sorry," he said, as much to Swami as GB, "but I just can't do this."

"Bullshit!" GB shouted in frustration. "You're doing it right now! You're killing me and Hawk and every other person of the blood you know, Joby! You're killing us instead of a tiny handful of vicious haters. They're not even really people anymore. They're just food for what's inside them, hollow shells, burned out years ago by what their greedy, spiteful minds so eagerly invited once. I've been in their heads, remember? It's like pit toilets in there, Joby. Deep down, whatever's left of them is prob'ly beggin' for release. You'd be doin' 'em a favor, but no! You'd rather murder all your friends instead. Is that it?"

"Why don't you just do it then?" Joby snapped. "You've been doing magic all your life. If this decision is so simple, can't you just-"

"Weren't you listening when I told you last time?" GB cut in impatiently. "It's a very big spell! It's gonna take both of us and five channels!"

"Which will come from where?" Joby asked, hoping this necessity might buy him at least a bit more time to think.

"I've already found 'em," GB said. "There are some very brave and generous kids in this town, as you already know. And some of them are just as eager to get rid of Donaldson as we are."

"Those people on your list," Joby pleaded. "I don't even know them. How can I kill people I don't even know?"

"It's prob'ly better that way," GB said quietly. "You won't suffer as much later. Joby," he said, sounding almost tender suddenly. "I know this is a terrible decision. I hate them even more for forcing you to make it. I shouldn't have yelled that way, but you do know Hawk, don't you. Will it hurt less to let him die? You knew Rose. Imagine her death times hundreds. You have the power to stop that. All of it. How're you gonna feel, later, knowing that you didn't?" He stood up to come stand face-to-face with Joby and look sadly into his eyes. "A lot of people are about to die here, Joby," he said softly. "The demons haven't left you any choice about that. You only get to choose who." When Joby failed to find his voice, GB said, "Who's gonna die, Joby?"

"I need time to think about this," Joby said palely as the choice tore through him.

"How much time?" GB said, still quietly, but with clear frustration.

"I don't know," Joby murmured. "A day?"

"You told me once about your friend Ben," GB said sympathetically. "That fire was their doing too, you know. If you'd had the power to save him then, would you have sat around asking yourself all these moral questions first?"

The question hit Joby like a rockfall. If he'd had the power then . . . It had never even crossed his mind, until now. He'd healed Sky years before, just by wanting him healed, if Tom Connolly had been right. Joby felt dismay spread across his face as he stared into GB's questioning eyes. Why hadn't he healed Ben? Surely Joby had wanted that as badly as he'd ever wanted Sky's recovery . . . Or hadn't he? . . . Deep down . . . had he hesitated . . . not sure, perhaps, whether to want a rival gone?

"Oh God," Joby whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "Oh God." Was he a murderer already? Somewhere deeper in his heart than wherever all these self-ennobling moral qualms were coming from? Why hadn't his desire been enough to heal Ben?

"Take your day, then," GB said, breaking their gaze and heading for the door. "I just hope Hawk hasn't burned to death up there by the time you make up your mind."

Joby hardly heard him go. He was still seeing Ben's fire-ravaged face, the moment he had died . . . She's yours.

"Not anymore, Ben," Joby whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I failed her too. I've failed everyone I ever loved."

Hawk got back from his shift up on the Garden Coast just after eight, and stopped at Franklin's grocery to get some breakfast fixings. He'd felt pretty guilty about leaving his father at such a time, but he'd seen nothing he could do to help diminish what had happened, and two weeks of Joby's alternation between bleakness and rage had left Hawk desperate for enough distance to get some perspective and regroup. Cooking something really special for their breakfast now seemed like a good way to apologize.

As he left his car to cross the still-deserted street, Hawk was surprised to see one-of Taubolt's skater types up this early, loitering ahead of him outside the still-unopened bakery. He was even more surprised when the boy beckoned him furtively into an alcove between the two buildings.

"You're Joby's kid, aren't you?" said the boy as Hawk drew near.

"Yes," Hawk answered. "Do I know you?"

"Uh-uh," said the boy. "But we all know who you are." He looked around anxiously, then half-whispered, "The fairy lady told us what happened to you."

"What?" Hawk said.

"The demon who was in you," the boy whispered even more quietly.

"Who are you?" Hawk demanded.

"I'm Abe," the boy said, glancing nervously around again, then, even more quietly, "We're gonna make 'em pay-for you, and everybody they been hurtin'."

"Pay?" Hawk said. "Make who pay? What are you talking about?"

Abe suddenly looked frightened. "I just thought . . . We're on your side. We're helping Joby! Please, don't tell 'em I said anything." He began to back away. "I could get in trouble. I just thought you'd like to know." As Hawk gaped, Abe turned and ran away.

"Hey! Wait!" Hawk called after him. "What's this about my father?" But the boy had already disappeared around a corner without ever slowing down.

For a moment, Hawk considered chasing him, but turned and headed back to his car instead. We're helping Joby? What was up with that?

Ten minutes later, Hawk came through the door to find his father already up, looking pale, with eyes as red-rimmed as a B-movie vampire.

"Hawk!" Joby gasped, leaping up to embrace him as if he'd come back from the dead. "Thank God! I was so worried."

"Why?" Hawk said, alarmed and confused. "What's happened now?"

"Nothing," Joby said, leaning away, and seeming suddenly unable to look Hawk in the eye. "You're not going back there, are you?"

"To the Garden? No," Hawk said, wondering fearfully if Joby might have had a breakdown of some kind. "Why?"

"I just . . . need you here," said Joby, while avoiding Hawk's gaze.

"You look terrible," Hawk said. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," said his father. "I've just . . . I've been having trouble sleeping."

Yeah, right, Hawk thought. And Atlantis had a leaky basement. Hawk's own still too-clear memories of demon possession left him fearful something more than insomnia might be at work here. There were a lot of things about the morning Jake had saved him that Hawk still didn't get. Jake had explained enough to help Hawk understand what had happened to himself, but the ancient had been unapologetic about refusing to discuss the rest. When he'd asked Hawk just to trust him and to keep the little that he had learned to himself, Hawk had seen no reason to deny him anything, in light of all he'd done. But despite the ancient's discretion, Hawk had left that awful morning well aware that something more than he'd been told was going on in Taubolt, and that somehow, for God knew what reasons, he, himself, had gotten tangled up in it. If the demons plaguing Taubolt had come after him, why not his father?

"Joby, what's really going on? I have to know."

"I just told you," his father said crossly. "I'm not sleeping. Is that so hard to fathom given everything they've put me through?"

"Who's put you through?" Hawk asked, thinking of the boy in town.

"Who do you think?" his father snapped. "Are you the only one in Taubolt who hasn't heard I lost my job?"

Hawk found a chair to sit in, feeling cold and numb. This was definitely not his father talking, unless Joby really had gone crackers in the week that he'd been gone. He knew he ought to smile and nod and go straight to Jake about it now, but Hawk's need to know what was happening, to confront and fix it, was too urgent to suppress.

"I was just stopped by a kid in town who wanted me to know that he's helping my father make the demons pay for everything," Hawk said grimly.

"I have no idea what he meant," Joby said, but Hawk had seen him flinch.

"What is it that you're too afraid to tell even me?" Hawk asked fearfully.

"I don't like being called a liar by my own son!" Joby snapped.

"I don't like being lied to by my father," Hawk said levelly, terrified and angry all at once at what might be clinging to Joby's back right now. "If you won't tell me what that kid was talking about," Hawk said, already rising to head for the door, "I'm going straight to Jake and asking him if he knows."

"Stay out of it!" Joby exclaimed. "GB's life could be at stake!"

"GB?" Hawk said, whirling back even more angrily. "What's he got to do with-"

"I asked you to stay out of it," Joby said, trying belatedly to curb his temper.

"Just tell me what you're tangled up in!" Hawk demanded, no longer curbing his.

Joby raised his head at last and gazed hard at Hawk. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't want you involved."

Hawk found it suddenly harder to breath, terrified of all Joby's answer implied. "You're my father," he said fiercely. "That makes me involved."

"That's right," Joby said with sudden, steely calm. "And you're my son. I won't put you in harm's way."

"But it's supposed to be okay with me if you get hurt?" Hawk parried. "Dad, you've been trusting the wrong people."

"Who else should I have trusted?" Joby demanded.

"The Council, for one, Dad. Have you even tried to-"

"The Council?" Joby cut him off. "What have they ever done about anything?"

"What have they done?" Hawk said in disbelief. "They've worked day and night to defend this town! Ever since the night Jupiter and Sky died, they've done more than anyone else to protect the kids you care so much about-including me! Jake saved my friggin' life, Dad! How can you ask what they've done?"

"Like they protected Rose?" Joby pressed, clearly unswayed. "Have you forgotten her already?"

The question was so offensive that it might have sent Hawk from the house had he not schooled himself to remember that the person he was listening to was almost certainly not entirely his father, if it was his father at all. "Rose's death was an accident," he said painfully. "The Council had no-"

"An accident," Joby cut in derisively. "If that's what they told you, they lied! Demons killed her, son. Just like all the others."

"How do you know that?" Hawk protested. "Who told you that Rose was-" But he didn't need to finish the question. "GB," he said through gritted teeth. "Why are you so ready to trust him instead of me, Dad? I'm your son, remember? Who's GB?"

"He's the one who's been right again and again," said Joby sadly. "About my aptitude for magic, about the Council's lies . . . and about the kind of coward I've been."

"Okay," Hawk said, fighting tears, "so let GB tell you what to do, but can't you trust me enough to tell me what that is? Just tell me what you're going to do."

"I'm going to give them justice!" said Joby. "That's all I'll say about it. I'm sorry, but I won't . . . I can't just let us all keep dying, one by one."

"What kind of justice is GB peddling?" Hawk asked hopelessly. "I'd give up lots of justice to have you back the way you were . . . when we went hiking all the time. When we laughed, and ran, and fed the deer. When everybody didn't hate and fear and kill-for justice. . . . Can you remember? We had peace here once, and love and joy. We had beauty, Dad. That's the only kind of justice I want now."

"Things can never be the way they were," Joby said, looking despondently at Hawk. "Time doesn't work that way. It just moves forward."

Forward, Hawk thought dismally, toward some looming disaster that could not be stopped. What was he to do? Unable to think of any other way past Joby's defenses, Hawk played the last desperate card he possessed.

"I love you, Dad," Hawk said quietly. "I've loved you since way before I knew you were my father. But I know, in every cell of my body, that you're about to make a terrible mistake. I don't know what it is, but I can feel it coming to destroy you, and . . ." His eyes were swimming, and his throat had grown almost too tight to speak, but he had to get this out. "And I can't stay to watch that happen, 'cause watching will destroy me too. I'm sorry, but you've got to choose now: me, or this thing you're set on doing, whatever it is." He couldn't keep his tears in check. "I'll go now and give you time to think about it, but I'm coming back at ten tonight to get my stuff. Then I'm getting out of Taubolt. You can come with me, or you can stay and do . . . your thing. But if you let me go, I will not . . ." He turned and walked to the door, too torn up to stay another minute. "You've got to choose. That's all. No second chances," he said roughly, and walked out, terrified by what he'd done, and praying, Please choose me, Dad. Please choose me.

Joby stumbled, half-blind with grief, down a wooded trail toward the ocean, needing to move, perhaps just for the illusion of escape, and wishing that a sudden aneurysm would make all his choices for him. He'd thought the night before that there'd been no one left to fail, but he'd overlooked one after all. Now Hawk could not abide him either. Joby was nothing but a loathsome pitfall to everyone who tried to love him. He'd have to get a sign to wear: UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN! DON'T GET TOO NEAR!

After GB's departure, Joby had managed only one brief lapse of consciousness just long enough to afford him a nightmare like the ones he'd suffered after Ben's death. It seemed so obvious now what his guilty mind had been shouting at him for so many weeks back then. How had he failed to see it? And if he'd killed his best friend just to steal Laura, why pretend he couldn't do what needed doing for much better reasons now? This really was war after all. Soldiers had to kill people all the time, and that didn't make them murderers. Swami, wherever he was now, had begged Joby to help them on this day. Joby was out of excuses.