His voice is fond, bordering on sentimental. And he’s right. This was my decision. It all has been, right down to picking up the athame when I was fourteen.

“Colin wants to see you,” he says, and puts his hand on Thomas’s shoulder to indicate that it has to be alone. He’d probably put his other hand on Carmel’s shoulder too if he didn’t mind having it bitten off. Either way, he won’t leave them alone. So I guess I don’t have to worry, for now.

* * *

A woman leads me through the hallways and up the staircase to where Burke waits. She’s the first woman I’ve seen, and it’s sort of a relief to know that there are women, even if this one is slightly creepy. She’s about fifty, with a stylish ash-blond bob. When we met outside the room they gave me, she smiled and nodded with the practiced, disaffected politeness of a society matron. We pass rooms with wide, open double doors, and there’s a burning fireplace in every one. In one of them on my left, there’s a group of people sitting in a circle. As we pass, they all turn their heads to watch. And I mean they all do. Together, like at the same time.

“Uh, what are they doing?” I ask.

“Praying.” She smiles. I want to ask to what, but I’m scared that she’d say they were praying to the athame. It’s hard to think of Jestine being raised by these people. Every one of them is creepy. Even Dr. Clements, when he washed and wrapped my hand, he looked at the blood like it was the Holy Grail. He’ll probably burn the bandages in a brazier of sage or something.

“Here we are,” says my escort. Then she just stands there, beside the door, even though I make gestures to imply that she can leave. Freaks.

When I go into the room, Colin Burke is standing near yet another fireplace. He’s got his fingers pressed together at the tips in that most dishonest of gestures, and the flames flicker red-orange across his cheekbones. All at once I think of Faust.

“So, you’re Theseus Lowood,” he says, and smiles.

“So, you’re Colin Burke,” I say. Then I shrug. “Actually, I’ve never heard of you.”

“Well.” He walks away from the fire to stand beside a tall leather chair. “Some people keep their secrets better than others.”

Oh. So that’s how it is.

I put my thumb and forefinger to my chin thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that name before. Burke. An English serial killer, wasn’t he?” I turn my palm up. “Any relation?”

Behind the mild smile, he’s gnashing his teeth. Good. And yet, in the back of my head I’m thinking that I shouldn’t make an enemy of this guy. That I came here for his help. Then again, the front of my head is telling me that nothing I could do could make him more of an enemy.

Burke spreads his hands and smiles. It’s a disconcertingly disarming gesture. Warm, and just this close to genuine.

“We’re very pleased to have you here, Theseus Cassio Lowood,” he says. “We have desired your return for a long time.” He smiles again, even warmer. “The warrior returns home.”

All this faux flattery. It’s not enough to make me forget he’s a dick. Admittedly, though, he’s sort of a charismatic dick.

“Pleased?” I ask. “Then you must not know why I’m here.”

Burke looks down, almost regretfully, and his eyes flicker up, as gray as his hair. “You’ve had a hard day of travel. We can talk about that later. Over dinner perhaps. I’ve arranged a welcome meal, to give the other members a chance to meet you. They’re all curious.”

“Listen,” I say, “That’s—that’s really nice of you and everything. But I don’t have time—”

“I know why you’re here,” he says sharply. “Take my advice. Come to dinner. And let the others try to convince you not to die.”

There’s a whole lot of smart-ass piled up on my tongue. But I manage to keep it down.

“Whatever you say,” I smile. “You’re the host.”

* * *

Walking with Thomas, Carmel, and Gideon to the dining room, I keep my eyes on the walls. There really are heads on the walls, elk and bear and some kind of goat. They make me think of Gideon’s joke back at his place, about the eyes moving in the pictures around my house.

“Why are we doing this?” Carmel asks, staring at the goat head. “I don’t trust this place. And all these slaughtered animals are threatening to turn me vegan.”

Gideon smiles at that. “We’re doing this so that Colin can play the part of reasonable leader. He wants to kill you, Theseus.” The casual way he says it makes me sort of twitch. “He wants to kill you and reclaim the athame for Jestine. Melt it down and reforge it with her blood. In his mind, it’ll be purified.”