Then, when it was clear that her mother was going to lose the argument, Amber had thought about something stronger than her mother. The thing she thought about was stronger than both of her parents and Grandpap combined. It was the house—that would be strong enough to get rid of Grandpap for good. The only problem was that Amber had told the house that she didn’t want its help anymore. She had decided that the house was bad and she didn’t want it interfering.
“But you needed it then,” her father said from the flames. “You needed it then and you need it now.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Amber screamed.
The flames flared.
“What happened to Grandpap wasn’t my fault.”
“Let it help you, Amber. Let it help you with Prescott. You need it.”
Amber tore her eyes from the flames. She looked at Ricky—he was still entranced by the fire. George was speaking the last of his syllables towards the sky. The three of them were positioned at the place where the world was trying to tear itself apart and they had just opened a current to an endless stream of destruction. She didn’t know which force was more powerful or more deadly.
Then, she saw him.
Prescott was standing a couple of paces behind Ricky.
Amber screamed for Ricky to turn around and see the monster. Again, the words only came out in her own head. Ricky couldn’t hear her.
“Okay, okay, okay,” she said. “I need it. Make it help me.”
“You have to call to it,” her father’s voice said. “You know how.”
Amber wanted to argue with her father. It wouldn’t do any good. Her father wasn’t really in the flames. His voice had been something that she had invented so she could tell herself what she needed to hear. The whole thing was her own brain communicating to itself. All that stuff that she had locked away could only come back to her as an outside voice. She couldn’t betray her own trust like that.
Amber closed her eyes—partly so she wouldn’t have to look at Prescott anymore and partly because she needed to think.
“It’s the same trick as the incantation,” she said to herself. “I know how to call it. I just have to let myself do it.”
Amber opened her mouth and a noise came out. She could feel the sound in her vocal cords. This time, her voice was real, not just in her head. When she opened her eyes again, both brothers were staring at her.
Actually, she realized, that they were staring just above her. The demon—the thing she had thought was the embodiment of her house—was with her. It was hovering over her head. Amber looked beyond Ricky and saw that even Prescott could see it.
She could feel the thing hovering over her, feeding off her energy so it could become real again. They had banished it once but that was all forgiven now. Amber realized that the demon loved her in its own way. She decided that if it took out Prescott, she might find a way to love it too.
Forty-One: Ricky
Ricky saw something down in the flames as his brother’s voice rose. He expected the thing to be naked, half-formed flesh rising from the embers, but it wasn’t. It was a dark shape that he didn’t recognize at first. It swirled in the smoke and there was something familiar about its movement. As soon as it began to orbit Amber, Ricky understood. He had heard about the demon that haunted Amber, but he was seeing it clearly for the first time.
His mouth fell open as he watched it take a perch behind her head.
Ricky glanced at George. His brother finished the incantation and they both turned to Amber. The demon above her head had long arms made of smoke that wrapped around Amber protectively. They were expanding though—swirling out into the firelight and extending towards Ricky. The arms pulsed when he fire crackled. It appeared to be independent, but Ricky thought that the demon was still intertwined with the fire. That was the shape it had chosen for itself—or the shape that they had inadvertently chosen for it.
As fascinating as it was, Ricky remembered that Amber’s demon wasn’t the reason they were there. The ceremony was only supposed to be a distraction. His attention was supposed to be on Prescott, and Ricky realized that he couldn’t feel the presence of Prescott behind him anymore. Then, with growing horror, he figured out that he was wrong. He could feel Prescott, but the creature had moved so close to him that he almost hadn’t recognized that it was near enough to strike.
Ricky darted his eyes over to his brother.
George seemed to feel his stare and swung his eyes over to Ricky. As soon as Ricky saw confirmation in his brother’s eyes, he turned.
George spun too.
The brothers led with their spears. Ricky caught Prescott in the side and George thrust down to take the creature in the leg.
The ancient monster was wearing a man’s clothing, but that image was a lie. Ricky could tell from the smell that the creature was nothing more than rotted flesh bound together by centuries-old cloth and stitching. At the end of the spear, Prescott laughed. It was amused by their attempts to harm it, even as George drove his spear deeper into the thing’s leg.
Ricky wanted to pull his spear back and drive it into Prescott’s skull.
Instinct told him not to. As soon as he pulled back on the spear, he knew that Prescott would be on top of him. One scratch from the thing’s teeth and he would be infected. It might even be able to infect him with a touch of one of its fingers.
“Step out of the triangle,” Amber said.
“No,” George said. “The triangle contains the ceremony. We can’t step…”
“Do it,” she ordered.
Prescott was pinned with the two spears, but he was too strong to hold for long. Ricky did what Amber said—he took a step away from the fire, breaking their
