Alexandra had stayed away from Larkin Mills all summer. In Central Territory, she was a wanted fugitive, but her sister and brother-in-law had been left alone. So far, the Confederation had avoided acting openly around Muggles. Alexandra had heard rumors, even in Dinétah, that that might not last.

If Regiments were on the move, and showing up in the Indian Territories, Alexandra feared that the wizard war her father had warned her about had truly begun. How long would the Confederation continue to observe the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and its own laws against interfering with the non-magical world, if that were the case?

When she first arrived in Dinétah, only intending to collect Nigel from Henry Tsotsie, she'd told him that she wanted to protect her friends and family. Henry had convinced her that returning to Larkin Mills wouldn't do that.

Now, she didn't know what to do. She couldn't leave Claudia unprotected. She doubted fear of the Enemy would be enough to protect Abraham Thorn's daughters once the war began. Alexandra herself had few other places to go. The Ozarks were a possibility. The New England home of Lucilla and Drucilla White was another. Roanoke Territory was standing with the Confederation, despite the revelation of the Deathly Regiment, which meant going to Croatoa, where Julia King and her mother lived, would only endanger them. She and Julia had exchanged a few owls over the summer, and Julia claimed that so far, things were quiet on Croatoa and in New Roanoke.

Most of Alexandra's friends were about to return to Charmbridge Academy. Despite the Deathly Regiment, despite a brewing civil war, some institutions persisted. As conflicted as she felt about her aunt, Lilith Grimm, she believed Dean Grimm would protect the students at Charmbridge as best she could.

That left only her oldest sisters, Claudia and Livia, who were both still living in the Muggle world. Livia, in Wisconsin, had made it clear she did not want Alexandra to visit her. Supposedly for Alexandra's own protection, but Alexandra suspected Livia just didn't want her near her family. She couldn't blame her.

So she returned to the small town where she'd grown up, where she had become a witch, and from which she'd fled months ago.

In her Seven-League Boots, the journey from Dinétah to Larkin Mills was just a short walk. Alexandra arrived just after sunset, setting foot in the marshy ground around Old Larkin Pond, just outside town. Nowadays, there were sometimes people here, as the town was trying to turn the surrounding fields into a golf course, but after dark, it was usually empty.

Not this evening. A group of teenagers were sitting in the tall grass, smoking and drinking.

"Look, it's the witch of Old Larkin Pond!"

Alexandra stared at the girl who'd spoken. She remembered her, vaguely—she'd been hanging out with Billy Boggleston and his friends a couple of years ago. The girl and the three boys with her made some more sniggering comments Alexandra couldn't hear.

Had they seen her appear out of nowhere? Alexandra looked around with her Witch's Sight for wards, Age Lines, traps, any magic that might have been cast around the pond. She saw nothing.

She turned back to the older teenagers.

"Leave," she said.

The teens stopped laughing. One of them inhaled deeply and blew a cloud of smoke in her direction.

Alexandra recognized him. His name was Davan MacLeod; she'd once spent a miserable summer in Vacation Bible School listening to him brag about scoring and shooting animals.

"You really do think you're the witch of Old Larkin Pond, don't you?" he said. "C'mon, have a hit." He patted the ground next to him. One of the other boys held up an open bottle of liquor.

"No thanks," Alexandra said.

"Billy says you really are a witch," said the girl.

Alexandra raised an eyebrow. "Does he?"

"Someone said you look like the girl in that viral video," one of the boys giggled. They were all giggling too much. "With the dragon in Times Square."

"You don't say. So, if I really were a witch, wouldn't it be kind of stupid to piss me off?"

The boy laughed. "Everyone knows that shit is fake."

Davan's voice rose mockingly. "Show us some witchy powers!"

Their cigarettes all burst into flames. Davan, who'd been about to put his to his lips, cursed and threw it on the ground.

"That's a terrible habit," Alexandra said. "You should quit." They all gaped at her, as her eyes flashed with green sparks in the darkness.

"Oh my God!" The girl gasped, and pointed at the pond. Even with only moonlight overhead, they could see the water turning dark red, and smell a thick, coppery scent.

"You wanted witchy powers?" Alexandra said. "What do you think?"

Davan stood up. He tried to take a step toward Alexandra. He stared down at his feet in a sudden panic.

"I can't move!" he exclaimed. "My feet are stuck!"

The other teens stood up and backed away from him and Alexandra.

Alexandra smiled at him. "Would you like to leave?"

"Yes!" Davan said.

He staggered as his feet were suddenly freed. All four kids stared at her in horror.

"Leave," she repeated.

They turned and ran across the field.

Alexandra waved her wand, and the water rippled and turned clear again. She cast a Vanishing Spell on the cigarettes and liquor bottles the teenagers had left behind. Then she walked all the way around Old Larkin Pond, casting spells as she went. She spent over an hour, not just placing wards and alarms and Muggle-Repelling Charms, but also preparing the ground around the pond and on the trails leading to it, making it ready to obey her. She'd been apprehended here more than once by Diana Grimm, and she wouldn't be surprised again. There was something she needed to do that could only be done at Old Larkin Pond; Alexandra wanted to make sure her aunt wouldn't find it so easy to take her next time.

After this, she prepared the first part of the ritual she had spent months researching. There was no way to experiment or practice. There would only be a single attempt. It would work or it would fail. Alexandra walked three times widdershins around the pond, noting the feel of the magical seam beneath the pond that ran all the way through Larkin Mills, a magical crack in the world that only she could open.

From her backpack, she withdraw a flask of Essential Water and poured it into the pond. It was only the first part, but she would leave it to do its work, primed by the spells she'd cast.

Finally, she set out across the field in the direction the teenagers had fled, toward what had once been her home, on Sweetmaple Avenue.

No one else was outside as she walked down the street she'd grown up on. There were lights on in most houses, but this had always been a quiet neighborhood. People rarely gathered on lawns or sat on porches after dark.

Cars lined the street and sat in driveways. Alexandra came to a halt in front of her former home. The driveway at 207 Sweetmaple Avenue was empty, and the house was dark. Alexandra supposed that meant Claudia and Archie were both working night shifts. Now that she no longer lived with them, she knew they tried to match their schedules, as they'd rarely been able to do while she was growing up.

There was a black van parked at the curb, which she thought was odd, but something else caught her attention. Down the street, in front of the Seaburys' home, there was a For Sale sign.

Alexandra stared at the sign, and the light filtering through their drawn curtains. She almost didn't hear the sound of the van's back doors opening, and when she turned with her wand in her hand, three people were already advancing on her, a tall woman and two men, all wearing dark cloaks.

Alexandra raised her wand, but the woman's wand was already pointed at her. She flicked it, and Alexandra involuntarily gasped. The gasp continued as all the air rushed out of her lungs, and still she couldn't stop. She dropped her wand and pressed her hands over her mouth, already light-headed as she fell. The two men caught her, and she was lifted and thrown into the van. The doors slammed shut while she struggled for breath helplessly.

She gasped again, violently, as air suddenly flowed back into her lungs. The two men forced her to a sitting position. One began wrapping chains around her upper body, pinning her arms to her sides, while the other wrapped chains around her legs. They moved with practiced efficiency, and Alexandra was immobilized in the time it took her to realize what was happening.

She took a deep breath, and a familiar voice said, "Don't scream, Quick. I'd have to gag you or knock you out. Neither of us would like that. Those chains are adamantine, so forget about attempting wandless magic."

The speaker was a shadow in the back of the van. Someone flicked on the overhead light, and Alexandra found herself sitting on bare boards looking up at two wizards who had shed their black cloaks to reveal Regimental Officer Corps uniforms. The witch who'd spoken was also in an ROC uniform. Alexandra blinked at the light shining in her face, then said, in disbelief, "Ms. Shirtliffe?"

"That's Witch-Colonel Shirtliffe," said the tall, unhandsome woman.

Ms. Shirtliffe was one of the first teachers Alexandra had met when she went to Charmbridge Academy as a sixth grader. The stern, gray-haired instructor of Magical Self Defense and Magical Theory, and the commander of Charmbridge's Junior Regimental Officer Corps, was one of the few members of Charmbridge's staff—indeed, one of the few adults in the wizarding world—whom Alexandra respected.

Now Alexandra stared at her former teacher in fury and disbelief. "What are you doing?"

"Apprehending an Enemy of the Confederation," Shirtliffe said. "I'm sorry, Quick. I wish I could have changed the course of your life. I tried to steer you in a different direction, but you were so stubborn. Still, I really thought I could prevent you from following your father. I was wrong."

"You're still working for the Confederation?" Alexandra demanded. "Don't you know what they've done?"

"Of course I do. You broadcast it to the entire world. You and Archibald Mudd. Everyone knows. About the Deathly Regiment, all of it." Shirtliffe's expression was unreadable.

"And you're okay with that?" Alexandra shook her head, not wanting to believe it. "You know they sacrifice children, and you're still loyal to them?" She struggled against the chains, but they were tight and unbreakable.

Shirtliffe and her two subordinates exchanged a look. "I am not okay with it," she said. "Most of the Corps is not okay with it. The time will come to address the rot at the heart of the Confederation, but that will be after we've crushed the Thorn Circle and the Dark Convention."

"My father wants to destroy the rot at the heart of the Confederation. What's your plan?"

"My plan is to destroy the forces that the Dark Convention have sent to capture you and destroy this town." Witch-Colonel Shirtliffe smiled humorlessly. "You thought you could just return to your hometown and no one would notice? It didn't occur to you that your home might be watched, that more people than just the Office of Special Inquisitions might be waiting for you to return? You little fool. Have you paid any attention to the news since your stunt in New Amsterdam? The Dark Convention isn't yet strong enough to act in the open, but little towns like this? More than one has been wiped off the map. And the people who died are the lucky ones. You have no idea the horrors that Muggles have been subjected to, now that more and more Dark creatures are coming out of hiding while the Confederation is fracturing. That's what you and your father have unleashed, Quick. And you brought the Dark Convention here, to Larkin Mills. They're gathering as we speak. So enjoy that high horse you're riding on, while me and my Regiment save this miserable town from the peril you brought to it."

Alexandra blinked rapidly, stunned, horrified, and still infuriated. "You rationalize almost as well as my father. After you save Larkin Mills, maybe you should consider saving the child who's going to be sent to the Lands Beyond tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day—"

"You know what? Gag her." Shirtliffe opened the back door of the van and stepped out. The wizard next to her pointed his wand, and thick ribbons shot out of it and wrapped around Alexandra's head. A long length of material snaked between her teeth despite her attempt to close her mouth. She squirmed and fought against her chains, and only succeeded in rolling around on the floor and bruising herself. The other wizard also got out of the van, and slammed the door.

Alone in the back of the van, Alexandra closed her eyes, and listened.

"All compass points warded?" Shirtliffe asked.

"Yes, ma'am. If they don't see the ambush, we'll bottleneck them at the pond."

Shirtliffe gave some more orders in a low voice, and then with two soft pops, they Apparated away.

Shirtliffe had taken her black hickory wand, but Alexandra had her mother's yew wand magically tucked down the front of her shirt. Wizards never thought anyone would carry a second wand.

She closed her eyes and focused, trying to draw on the magic of the yew wand. She could feel it, snarling, eager to be unleashed, but it was not hers to command. A piece of the terrible creature that had died to make it still lived in its core, and Alexandra struggled to master it and compel its cooperation.

She failed.

She'd heard of adamantine, a magical metal that was immune to spells. It was so rare that some said wizards had lost the secret of forging it. Alexandra supposed she should be flattered that she'd graduated to Enemy of the Confederation.

She didn't feel flattered. She felt uncomfortable and helpless. Gagged, she couldn't even attempt doggerel verse, and her wand, beneath the adamantine chains, resisted all her efforts to call up magic to free herself or to Apparate away.

She closed her eyes, feeling defeated. All the distance she'd traveled, all the obstacles and foes she'd overcome, and she'd been ambushed like an idiot right in front of her own house—what used to be her own house. And a trusted mentor turned out to be one of the bad guys. Who was also saving her town.

She felt tears threatening, and the only thing that stopped her from surrendering to them was the sound of voices outside the van.

The first voice was gruff and male. "Go away, ma'am."

The other voice was that of an elderly woman. "You're a very suspicious-looking young man, lurking out here on the street. Whose van is that?"

"None of your business. Go away!"

"Don't tell me to go away! I'm a member of the Neighborhood Watch! I'll call the police!" The lady went on and on, her voice getting closer.

"Go inside and call the police then, old bat."

"Old bat? Who are you calling an old bat, you rude little twit?"

Alexandra finally recognized the voice. It was Mrs. Wilborough, the old lady who lived across the street. She was a busybody who'd babysat Alexandra on occasion when she was little.

Go away, Mrs. Wilborough, before you get hurt, Alexandra thought.

There was a strange crackling noise, followed by a strangled sound and a thump. A moment later, the back doors of the van opened.

"Well," said Mrs. Wilborough, "a fine mess you've gotten yourself into." With an effort, she climbed up into the van.

Alexandra lifted her head to stare at the old woman in disbelief. Mrs. Wilborough was wearing a nightrobe over a blouse and pajama bottoms, and holding a pistol-like device in one hand. She grunted and set down the device. "Let's see if I can get these chains off you. I'm going to need your help lifting that oaf into the van."

Alexandra made loud muffled sounds through her gag.

"Oh, very well." Mrs. Wilborough knelt next to Alexandra and began unfastening the gag. "You always were a mouthy child, you know. And not exactly well-behaved either. I suppose that's to be expected." It took her a minute to free the gag and pull it out of Alexandra's mouth.

"Mrs. Wilborough," Alexandra gasped, when she could speak again. "Go call Claudia—I mean, my mother—and Archie. Hurry—all of you have to get out of here."

"Before I unchain you? That seems rather silly."

"Yes, yes, unchain me first!" Alexandra's entire body shook.

"Well, make up your mind, girl." Mrs. Wilborough began working at the chains wrapped around her.

"What did you do to… to that man?" Alexandra asked.

Mrs. Wilborough laughed, and gestured at the object she'd set down. "Haven't you ever seen a taser? Works even on wizards."

Alexandra's eyes and mouth both opened wide. "How—how—?"

"How did I know he's a wizard? Same way I know you're a witch. Daughter of the great and terrible Abraham Thorn. And we both know Claudia isn't your mother, don't we?"

"I don't understand." Alexandra saw lights at the end of the street. A car was turning the corner and coming their way, just as the chains fell away from her.

Mrs. Wilborough turned to look at the approaching car. "Oh dear. We're never going to get our friend into the van in time. Hopefully that's not the G-men."

Alexandra leaped out of the van and drew her yew wand. The ROC wizard lay unconscious in the street, once more covered by black robes, which Alexandra thought were actually pretty stupid to be wearing while supposedly going incognito among Muggles. Of course he'd looked suspicious and out of place!

She pointed her wand. "Levicorpus!" The wizard's body floated off the ground, and with a gesture, Alexandra sent him flying into the back of the van. He almost flipped head over heels, and slid along the floor until he hit the interior wall with a thud. Alexandra jumped into the van and pulled the doors shut just as the light from the approaching car's headlights reached them.

"They didn't take your wand? That's surprising," Mrs. Wilborough said. Outside, they heard the car go past.

"They did. I had another one." Alexandra stared at the old woman, who had recovered her taser. "Mrs. Wilborough, how long have you known? And what did you mean, G-men?"

Mrs. Wilborough pushed her glasses farther back on her nose. "I believe our friends intended to hand you over to the government—that is to say, the Muggle government. Those chains were for the benefit of whoever's coming to pick you up. I'll bet this fellow doesn't even know how to drive." She picked up her taser and poked the unconscious wizard with it. "As for your first question, I've known since the moment you moved in." She returned Alexandra's stare impassively. "For twelve years, I've been watching Abraham's daughters, waiting for this moment." She held up the taser and pressed the trigger. Lightning and something else that glowed in Alexandra's Witch's Sight arced between its conduits, illuminating the interior of the van, and Mrs. Wilborough laughed unpleasantly. "Well, not this moment exactly. But it did feel good sticking it to a wizard like that." She looked down at the unconscious man and laughed again.

She obviously wasn't working for the Confederation or the Dark Convention. Which left only—"My father?"

Mrs. Wilborough nodded. "Putting it all together, are you? He says you're smart, though I have to admit, it's never been that evident to me. Of course I don't see you much, nowadays."

"All this time, you just sat in your house across the street from us and pretended to be a Muggle?" Alexandra looked her up and down, and then realization struck her. "You're not a witch, are you? You're… you're like Claudia."

Mrs. Wilborough gave her the thinnest of smiles. "Squib, dear. The word is Squib."

"But you work for my father."

"Your father is a very broad-minded fellow. He was willing to accept allies wherever he could find them, and he even hired Squibs to work in his office when he was a Congressman. Some of them were very enthusiastic about his efforts to repeal the Squib Laws, though I was always skeptical. But when he realized the entire Confederation is rotten and declared himself its Enemy, ah, I knew he meant business. That's when I joined his cause. And here we are."

"You're one of the Thorn Circle," Alexandra said, astonished.

"Since you're the Secret Keeper, you would know, wouldn't you? Except of course you didn't really. Clever trick, that."

At their feet, the wizard Mrs. Wilborough had tased groaned.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Wilborough said. "Well, since you have a wand, can you do something about him?"

Alexandra grimaced. "Let's get out of the van."

Mrs. Wilborough shrugged and pushed open the back doors. She was able to step down to the street without assistance, though she moved more slowly than Alexandra would have liked. Alexandra jumped down after her, then turned and pointed her wand back into the van and conjured a vaporous cloud. It filled the van and billowed outwards as she slammed the doors shut.

"Poison?" Mrs. Wilborough asked. "A dead body will cause problems when it's found."

"No! It's sleeping gas. I wouldn't just kill someone like that!"

The old woman smiled wryly. "The war has begun. You might have to."

"Yeah, about that." Alexandra looked down the street, in the direction of Old Larkin. "Ms. Shirtliffe—I mean, Witch-Colonel Shirtliffe—said that the Dark Convention is about to attack Larkin Mills."

"Well. That sounds bad."

"There are ROC wizards here to fight them."

"I'm not sure that's better."

"Me neither. But I have to join the fight."

"You have to do what, now?" Mrs. Wilborough stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "No, what you have to do is get out of here before Aurors or feds show up."

"Witch-Colonel Shirtliffe has my other wand."

"Not that I would know about these things, being a Squib, but it looks to me like you have a wand." Mrs. Wilborough gestured at the yew wand in Alexandra's hand. "If that Witch-Colonel took your spare, consider it a fair trade for escaping."

"No." Alexandra shook her head. She didn't want to tell Mrs. Wilborough that she couldn't understand about having your wand taken from you, or the connection she had with the wand that Granny Pritchard had crafted for her. "They also took my backpack, which has pretty much everything I own in it, including all my magical gear, books, potions…"

"Listen, you little fool, if you go running back to them you'll just be captured again. Same if you stay here. I don't think I'll get away with tasering G-men."

"Thank you for your help, Mrs. Wilborough. I'm sorry if I wasn't always nice to you when I was a kid. But I have to do this." Alexandra looked wistfully at the house where Claudia and Archie lived, then down the street. Headlights came around the corner again, and this time, there was something about their arrangement, and the speed of the approaching vehicle, that made her immediately apprehensive.

"Go," Mrs. Wilborough said.

"What about you?" There was no way the old woman could run back inside without being seen.

"I'll be fine. I'm just an old woman out for an evening stroll. For Merlin's sake, get out of here! Apparate or fly or something!"

Alexandra took a seven-block step and disappeared from Sweetmaple Avenue. Then she circled around and ran back the way she'd come, through Old Larkin to the underpass leading to Old Larkin Pond and the fields around it.

Two wizards in Regimental Officer Corps uniforms stood positioned at the concrete underpass: one on the near side, and one a shadow on the far side. The nearer officer started when Alexandra stepped into view, and pointed his wand at her. Alexandra took another step in her Seven-League Boots that carried her through the tunnel in a blur and landed her at the very edge of Old Larkin Pond.

The sky was black, blacker than night. Something obscured the moon and the stars and had plunged the entire area into pitch darkness. Alexandra couldn't see her own hands. The only visible light was a red glow at the far edge of the field.

She heard an inhuman baying sound, and her first thought was werewolves. But the red glow resolved itself into a fiery line of bouncing flames. The flames came from the mouths of enormous black dogs who breathed fire as they charged through the tall grass, driven forward with yips and snarls by a line of cowled figures behind them.

Lightning crackled and split the sky, making Alexandra jump, and the entire tableau was visible in a flash.

Flying above the dogs and warlocks was a swarm of witches and wizards, all draped in black astride brooms of various models; some slick and modern, others ancient, warped and knotted branches with frayed clusters of straw tied to the end. Alexandra saw two flying carpets carrying several people each. All of the flyers floated slowly through the air, letting the baying, fire-breathing dogs run ahead. Here and there little tongues of flame ignited the summer grass, but mostly the field was too wet and green to catch fire.

Behind Alexandra, formed into three circles that loosely defined a diamond with Old Larkin Pond at its fourth point, were a hundred wizards of the Regimental Officer Corps. The nearest circle was only yards from where she stood, close enough for Alexandra to glimpse their expressions in the brief flash of lightning overhead.

Then the lightning winked out, and as darkness fell over the pond and the field, a thunderclap split the air, followed by screams. Alexandra had just enough time to realize that she had stepped right between the two forces before more lightning forked across the sky, while at the same time green and red and purple bursts of light erupted from dozens of wands on either side of her. The unnatural black night was illuminated in unearthly colors from lightning bolts striking the ground, the snarling, fire-breathing dogs, and spells from the black-robed warlocks. The thunder following the lightning was deafening and almost knocked Alexandra off her feet.

One circle of uniformed wizards volleyed spells at the approaching warlocks of the Dark Convention, while another hurled curses at the onrushing hellhounds. The latter sizzled through the air past Alexandra. No one had yet targeted her, but she was standing in the middle of the battle.

A witch riding an ancient broom—barely a stick—descended toward Alexandra, brandishing her wand and cackling like something out of a children's cartoon. The curse she cast was not cartoonish; it was a deadly thing of crackling black and purple violence that Alexandra barely managed to deflect. Before she could cast a counterhex, a silver half-moon cut through the black night, literally, slicing through the air itself and leaving a black and empty void in its wake. It sliced through the witch also, and she tumbled bloodlessly to the ground in two pieces.

Now curses came flying at her, and Alexandra ran between the closing fronts, faster than the fireballs that chased her. She didn't know which side had thrown them at her. Everything was chaos, and she knew only that standing out in the open was stupid. She had hoped to locate Ms. Shirtliffe before everything started, but she realized in retrospect that Mrs. Wilborough might have had a point; just how was she going to get her wand and backpack back, even if the Regiment drove away the Dark Convention?

From atop a slight rise in the grassy field where she and Brian had played as children, she could see hundreds of wizards doing battle over the pond that had once been little more than a muddy hole where her imagination had conjured up magical creatures and childhood adventures. Now it was surrounded by screaming people and snarling monsters. The hellhounds had reached the nearest line of Regimental wizards and while half their number had been cut down by spells, the other half charged fearlessly into the circle, flaming jaws gaping wide.

Some of the Dark Convention warlocks had been blasted off their brooms. One of the flying carpets was spinning to the ground in flames, its riders hurled off. Alexandra couldn't see if any of them had managed to save themselves with Falling Charms. Men and women in the Regimental formations had fallen as well, struck by the curses of the Dark Convention, but it seemed as if the ROC formations were holding, onslaught of hellhounds notwithstanding, and the Dark Convention's raggedy mob of witches and warlocks was falling apart. Besides the flames of hellhound breath, there was so much lightning and bursts of magic that the battleground was lit up with garish infernal illumination. The thunderous booms, the shrieks, the hiss and crackle of spells, the twisted falling bodies, all these things seared Alexandra's senses.

A large, looming shape strode rapidly through the grass towards her, with a loping, uneven gait. Alexandra looked for a wand and didn't see one. The figure was almost within arm's length when Alexandra saw the large, misshapen nose and greenish skin reflected in a flash from another lightning bolt that struck a tree twenty yards away.

A hag.

Alexandra was half-deaf already, and the boom of the lightning strike would have drowned out anything she might have said to the hag. She just pointed her wand. Her incantation was inaudible even to herself, but it worked: a green sphere of light shot out of her wand and knocked the hag off her feet. Inconveniently, the uncooperative yew wand lashed back at her as well, and Alexandra tumbled backward and hit the ground almost as hard as the hag.

She rolled quickly to her feet, and was not surprised to see the hag rising with equal speed. Hags were faster than they looked, and hitting it with a charm she'd learned dueling other kids at Charmbridge was not going to keep it down.

The hag came rushing at her again, and Alexandra said, "Barak!"

The lightning from her wand curled around both her and the hag. The hag shrieked loudly enough to be heard over the thunderclap, while Alexandra fell to the ground again and twitched and convulsed, mentally cursing the yew wand for choosing now, in the middle of a battle, to be so obstreperous. She tasted ozone and her teeth hurt, but as soon as her muscles would obey her again, she forced herself back to her feet, groaning.

The hag, too, was rising. Smoke curled around her head, and the big floppy hat she'd worn was gone, revealing black close-cropped hair around an enormous skull. Alexandra smelled burned flesh.

She raised her wand. It took all her willpower to hold her arm still. Her entire body wanted to shake. There was a momentary lull in the din around them, and in the space between thunderclaps from the bigger battle, Alexandra said, "Run."

The hag's eyes glowed red in the darkness, silently measuring the distance between the two of them. Calculating her odds of closing the distance before Alexandra could cast another spell. Alexandra knew she shouldn't give her a chance, she should just strike now.

The hag turned and lumbered away. She seemed ponderous and without agility, yet in moments she was out of sight.

Alexandra was no military tactician, her two years in the Junior Regimental Officer Corps notwithstanding, but she could see that the ROC's formations had served some arcane purpose as well as a tactical one. While some of the uniformed officers had fallen, they had mostly swept the Dark Convention out of the sky, and the snarling hellhounds were dying all around them. The Dark Convention had probably expected to find Larkin Mills undefended. Alexandra remembered Shirtliffe's words about the horrors that the Dark Convention was inflicting on Muggles, and thought about all these creatures charging into Larkin Mills, unhindered by wards or protective charms or the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

Shirtliffe had also said the Dark Convention was here because of her. They wanted to capture her. Alexandra wasn't sure why that would be—her father was supposedly allied with the Dark Convention, though she also knew that any such alliance was fractious. "The Dark Convention" was a label for everyone who opposed the Confederation, not the banner of a unified resistance movement. Had she really brought this threat to Larkin Mills by returning here?

While fretting about this, Alexandra continued to watch the battle. It seemed as if the Regiment was winning, yet the darkness blanketing them bothered her. What spell had blacked out the sky? She couldn't even see as far as the Interstate. She wondered if drivers on the highway saw the fires and flashes of light.

A cold and terrible malaise came over her all at once. She felt inexplicably hopeless and tired; the despair that swept over her was so powerful that she felt like throwing down her wand and surrendering to it.

A wizard in an ROC uniform, facing a hellhound on the other side of the pond, dropped his arm in the very act of casting a spell. He hardly seemed to put up a struggle at all when the hellhound leapt for his throat.

Alexandra choked back a sob, trying to understand the cause of her sudden despair. It was as if she were feeling everything bad that had ever happened to her at once—learning that Claudia was not her mother, the moment that Anna had betrayed her, realizing Brian had been Obliviated, reading his sister Bonnie's name in the Deathly Regiment, seeing Maximilian disappear into the dark void, falling into the Lands Beyond.

Shrouded figures were descending from the sky. Shadowy and wraithlike, but with more substance than ghosts, they floated out of the pitch black that blotted out the night sky and drifted toward the ground in an evil miasma. One approached Alexandra, and her despair intensified as she stared at its blank, gray face. Its presence mocked everything good and worthwhile in the world; it was the death of all hope and happiness.

She had felt this once before, when she had realized that Maximilian was gone forever, that she could never bring him back, and that she'd nearly destroyed all her friendships trying. Then, Anna had been there. Anna had held her as she cried, and forgiven her for all her foolishness and the damage she'd done. It was her friends who had always brought her back from the brink, no matter how mad her schemes.

And, she realized, this feeling was not unlike that caused by another sort of being. Chindi—malevolent spirits, so unlike wizard ghosts who were, if not always friendly, at least people you could talk to. These things were like the dreadful spirits in the Lands Beyond who hated all life and wanted to drain every spark of it from any living beings they encountered.

The creature before her was not a chindi, but it was, she thought, something similar. And she knew how to fight chindi, though with her hopes crushed and her will to fight all but gone, it took her last effort of will to raise her wand and force the words out.

"Expecto Patronum," she whispered.

She'd never tried to cast this spell with her yew wand. It channeled her anger more easily than happiness. Her incantation produced a weak spray of silver mist that was just enough to make the gloomy creature before her draw back a little. The suffocating dread receded, just a bit.

It was almost impossible to imagine that she had stood on the peak of White Shell Mountain this morning. Facing the dawn, she had summoned her happiest memories. Now, less than a day later, she faced the embodiment of her worst memories, and they seemed so much stronger.

"Max," she said. "Anna. David. Constance. Forbearance." She blinked away tears. "Brian. Bonnie. Claudia." Her voice quavered, then gained strength. She clenched her wand tighter. The cowled creature before her hesitated, then came closer, and Alexandra felt her resolve weakening.

"Julia!" she said. "Archie. Yes, you too. Innocence. Livia. Burton, you big fat jerk. Charlie, oh, Charlie!" She forced her mouth into a smile. She was retreating before the creature, but at least she was able to move her feet.

"You are my mother's wand," she whispered. "Do this for me. For everyone I care about." She raised her voice. "For Ms. King, and Lucilla, and Drucilla, and Valeria, even if you never forgive me. For Angelique, and Sonja, you dingbat, and God help me, for Larry, even though I kind of never want to see you again… and for Henry Tsotsie. I wish you were here, Henry."

She took a deep breath. "And Father. Damn you."

The inhumanly tall creature was almost upon her. She pointed the yew wand and said, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver stormcrow exploded from her wand in a blaze of light and flew straight through the cowled figure. It made no sound, but Alexandra felt something like an intake of breath that tried to suck the warmth out of the world around it, and then the thing shuddered, collapsed, and shrank to nothing.

Her Patronus flew out over the field, and more of the cowled creatures shrank away from it. Alexandra could see now that they had descended amidst the wizards of the Regimental Officer Corps, and many of the ROC officers had collapsed. The gaunt creatures were bending over some of the fallen, while those who had not fallen mostly cast ineffectual spells at them. Only a few were also casting Patronus Charms, and most only produced silver mist, though this at least drove back the creatures near them.

Alexandra saw only two other corporeal Patronuses besides hers: a silver bear, and a fish. The bear was clawing its way through the remaining shadow-creatures that tried to converge on the ROC, and where its glowing paws touched them, they fell away with soundless shrieks. At least Alexandra imagined them shrieking, the way they collapsed as if mortally wounded.

The fish flew through the air like Alexandra's stormcrow, sometimes darting through one of the creatures, sometimes flashing by one that was coming too close to another wizard. Whichever wizard had cast it was using it both offensively and defensively. The corporeal Patronuses were powerful, but two had not been enough against the swarm of hope-stealing spirits, whatever they were. Alexandra's Patronus joining the battle seemed to turn the tide. Between three silver Patronuses and the mist from weaker Patronus Charms flowing around the knots of Regimental wizards, the things began retreating. The wizards who hadn't been incapacitated renewed their attacks on the remnants of the Dark Convention. The hags and hellhounds didn't seem affected by the things that came down from the black sky, but the warlocks of the Dark Convention had also retreated from them; evidently being aligned with the Dark was no protection from their power.

Alexandra didn't even think about protecting herself from the ROC; she just kept directing her Patronus at every cowled wraith she saw, until finally Old Larkin Pond was clear of them. The battle felt like it had taken hours, but it couldn't have been very long at all. She looked up and saw the blackness fading, giving way to the normal starry darkness of the night sky.

She was very tired and still felt the after-effects of the terrible creatures. Summoning her happiest memories and the love of her friends had warded off the despair and depression while her Patronus was near, but it still gnawed at her, like a sickness gone only partly into remission.

Witch-Colonel Shirtliffe approached her. She waved her wand, and the silver bear came running to her side.

Alexandra stood her ground, but brought her stormcrow Patronus to her, where it hovered above her head.

Shirtliffe eyed the stormcrow. "You can cast a corporeal Patronus. That's very impressive. You are so talented, Quick." Her voice held no trace of irony or sarcasm.

"What were those things?" Alexandra asked.

"Dementors."

Alexandra nodded. She'd heard of them. Supposedly the Confederation had once used them as executioners for the very worst criminals.

Behind Shirtliffe stood about a hundred wizards of the Regimental Officer Corps. Some of them were badly hurt, maybe dead. She supposed she might still be able to Apparate away, or step out of range with her Seven-League Boots, but she'd come for her wand and her backpack. It seemed silly to run now, and she was still weak from confronting the Dementors.

"What did you do to Guy?" Shirtliffe asked.

Alexandra assumed that was the wizard who'd been left guarding her. "He underestimated me." And he underestimated non-magical people. "He's in the van, probably with a massive headache."

Shirtliffe nodded, as if this were no more than what she expected. "You have an extra wand. Should've figured. So why didn't you just run away?"

"You said I brought this to Larkin Mills." Alexandra gestured at the field, now littered with bodies from both sides. "I don't understand why the Dark Convention would go to all this trouble just to get me. But then, I don't understand why the Confederation would go to so much trouble just to get me. Were you really going to turn me over to Muggle authorities?"

"Believe it or not, I was doing you a favor. The Governor-General's deputy wanted you delivered to him. The feds would treat you better."

"Chained up?"

"There are worse things than chains, Quick." Shirtliffe's face was grim. "You should have run while you had the chance. What am I going to do with you?"

"Give me back my wand and my backpack, and let me go?"

"Can't do that. You're an Enemy of the Confederation."

"I guess you'll have to kill me then." Alexandra raised her yew wand. She allowed her Patronus to fade. "Since you have no problem letting the Confederation kill a kid every day, I guess one more won't make a difference to you."

"Damn you, Quick. You just saw what happened here. How many men, women, and children would have died if we hadn't been here?"

"You could fight the Dark Convention without serving the Confederation."

"Without the Confederation, there will be no one to fight them." Shirtliffe made an angry, curt gesture. "I'm not going to argue with you."

"Then bring it on," Alexandra said. "You and all your officers." It wasn't bravado. Perhaps it was still the lingering effects of the Dementors, but she couldn't bring herself to care that she was making a suicidal last stand.

Shirtliffe gave her a long look, and turned to look back at her troops. She hadn't raised her wand yet, and the other officers seemed to be waiting for her orders.

She turned back to Alexandra. "No," she said. "Just me." She raised her voice. "Code Duello!"

There was some murmuring in the ranks, but they all remained where they were, except for the ones who were trying to help the fallen.

"So if I win, you'll let me have my stuff and go?" Alexandra asked.

"You're not going to win, Quick. Remember when I told you that it would be a long time before you were a match for me? That time is still a long way off. But you've earned this courtesy, at least."

"Thanks," Alexandra said, half-sarcastically.

"Give your word that you will surrender to me when you lose. Assuming you survive. You will hand over your wand, and any other tricks you have up your sleeves, make no further attempts to escape, and submit to whatever fate and the Wizard Justice Department have in store for you."

Alexandra swallowed. "Agreed. On my honor as a witch."

"That goes without saying." And Shirtliffe blew Alexandra off her feet with a curse she didn't even see coming. She hadn't heard an incantation or seen a gesture, but she was on her back and sucking wind, barely able to breathe. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but she didn't look down to see how badly she was hurt. She Apparated next to Old Larkin Pond, just as she heard a thump where she'd been lying.

She was still on her back. She said, "Protego!" without sitting up. Something flashed against her Shield Charm, but at least her yew wand had protected her this time. She Apparated again, still in a prone position, this time to the tall grass she'd walked through to get to the pond. She immediately hissed in pain from a stabbing sensation in her gut. She was pretty sure she'd splinched herself, probably in some unpleasant way.

"There's no dishonor in yielding, Quick," said Shirtliffe, from only a few yards away. She must have heard her and Apparated after her.

Alexandra channeled her rage and pain into a Conflagration Spell that roared through the tall grass, setting it ablaze in seconds. Where Shirtliffe had stood was a blazing inferno, but she was gone. Alexandra rolled over just in time to see a hex coming at her. She deflected it, but this time her yew wand punished her by numbing her arm. She was barely able to maintain her grip on it as she forced herself to her feet. She found herself staring at the Witch-Colonel as they both stood on the little trail leading back to the freeway underpass.

She tasted blood, and the pain in her stomach made it impossible to stand up straight.

"You're hurt." Shirtliffe sounded sympathetic. "And that wand isn't a good match for you. Just surrender, Alexandra. You're not good enough to win, but you're too good to go down easy, and that just means making this worse than it has to be."

"You," Alexandra said. Her words came out with difficulty. "You were never nice, but you were fair. You took me seriously. I stayed in the JROC partly because… because I admired you. I wanted you to respect me. The teachers at Charmbridge may be some of the best in the Confederation, but you know how most of them treated me. Including my aunt. If they weren't afraid of me, or prejudiced against me, they were patronizing or spiteful. But you, I always felt like you actually cared. You really wanted me to do well."

Shirtliffe's face was hard to see in the moonlight, but she nodded slightly.

"I am so disappointed in you, Ms. Shirtliffe." Alexandra made a complicated gesture with her wand. Behind her own Shield Spell, Shirtliffe stood almost at ease, confident in her ability to counter whatever charm Alexandra was preparing to throw.

Without warning, the ground swallowed her up. Before she could Apparate or cast a counter-hex, the older witch was dragged beneath the surface and gone.

You never even used your Witch's Sight, Alexandra thought.

She fell to her knees and clutched her stomach. Behind her, some of Shirtliffe's subordinates came running through the grass, crying out in alarm, but they obeyed the Code Duello, and no one interfered.

Alexandra rocked back and forth. Her eyes were blurred with tears, but she forced back the pain and tried to clear her head.

It wasn't only mercy, but the realization that Shirtliffe probably had her black hickory wand, that made Alexandra hold out one shaky hand and try to undo the spell she had cast. The ground exploded, but there was no Shirtliffe.

"Dammit." Alexandra gritted her teeth and tried again.

The second time, the ground shook as if from an earthquake, and Shirtliffe's body tumbled out of the mud and sod that erupted in the middle of the trail.

Alexandra was afraid the other witch was dead. "Healer!" she cried. A uniformed wizard ran over to the Witch-Colonel. Alexandra fell to the ground and blacked out.