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Bella pressed against my side, and I felt her body tremble. “Careful, girl,” I whispered. “We're right on the edge of the trail.”

From where I stood, I looked down, way down into the valley, which was awash with moonlight. One misstep, and you'd be over the side of the hill, falling, falling, falling to certain death on the rocks below.

Staying as far away from the edge as possible, I forced myself to keep climbing. Finally we reached the top. The hollow lay in shadows, darker than anywhere else, as black as an underground cavern.

Suddenly Bella stiffened and moved forward, ears erect, body tense, growling softly. Something moved in the hollow below us.

Bella's growl turned to a whine, and she pressed against me as if she were frightened.

For a second, I hoped I'd found Erica, but instead Selene stepped out of the cabin's shadow, more woebegone than ever.

Bella whined and looked up at me. “It's okay,” I whispered to the dog.

Selene stayed where she was. “Will that dog bite me?”

I shook my head. “She's a good dog. Her name's Bella.”

As Selene came closer, Bella made no effort to greet her. If anything, she pressed closer to me. She was still trembling.

Selene looked at the dog. “She don't like me,” she said sadly.

I wasn't interested in how Bella felt about Selene. All I wanted was to find my sister. “You said the cabin would look like it did when you lived here.”

“It does,” Selene said. “Can't you see the light in the window?”

I peered into the blackness. “There's nothing there,” I said.

She pointed. “Right there. And smoke's coming from the chimney. Your sister's in there. I seen her through the window, but I can't get in.”

I stared into the darkness until my eyeballs ached, but I couldn't see anything. “Are you telling the truth or play-acting?”

“I'm telling you the honest-to-God truth. She's setting by the fire, stirring the pot like I used to. Only she's not doing it right, and Auntie will give her a walloping when she comes home.”

“She'll beat my sister?”

“That's what she does if you don't do things right—she wallops you. I used to get bruises all over me till I learned.”

Nobody was going to hurt my sister. If she was in that cabin, I'd break the door down and rescue her. With Bella and Selene behind me, I plunged downhill into the hollow, scrambling and slipping on loose stones. But all I saw were the same ruins I'd always seen.

Bella hung back, as if she knew something was in the ruins, but Selene ran to one of the few standing walls and looked through a broken window.

“There she be, your sister, just like I said. I don't see my auntie, though. She must be out in the woods.”

I watched Selene struggle to open the sagging door. “Let me in, girl!” She pounded on the wood with her fists. “Let me in!”

I pulled her away. “There's nothing here. You're imagining it.”

Bella whined and danced around me, but I was too busy with Selene to pay any attention to the dog. Finally the dog grabbed my parka. Frantic with fear, she tugged and growled through her clenched teeth and did her best to drag me away from the cabin's ruins.

In the struggle, I lost my grip on Selene, and she ran into the woods, calling for Auntie.

Even with the girl gone, Bella wouldn't let go of my parka. She continued to whine and growl and pull me toward the trail.

Freeing myself from Bella, I chased Selene. The dog darted in front of me and blocked my way. I dodged and shouted Selene's name until I was hoarse. She was gone. I'd lost her, just as I'd lost Erica.

At least that's what I thought, until Bella cowered beside me. The woods were very still. The wind stopped. The moon hid behind the clouds.

Coming toward us was Selene. An old woman walked beside her. She leaned on a staff and carried a bundle. Her long skirt was the color of the winter sky on a starless night, her shawl as black as midnight. Long strands of white hair blew about her head. Shadows hid her face.

I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. Neither could Bella. We were frozen, paralyzed, under a spell. We could do nothing but watch the two of them approach. Old Auntie shoved Selene toward me. “I brung her back. She ain't mine no more. Take her home and keep her there, boy. She's your sister now. The girl in the cabin is my girl. Look for her in fifty years if you want her back.”

“No, Auntie,” Selene cried. “Ain't I worked hard all my life for you? Give her back and let me stay with you. I'll work hard, I'll do better, I promise you.”

Selene tried to embrace Old Auntie, but the old woman pushed her away. The girl sprawled on the ground at my feet. Bella sniffed her and whimpered.

“Now, you go on and get out of here,” Old Auntie told her. “Don't let me see you no more. Don't come looking for me. Stay away from my cabin. You hear me?”

Selene lay on the ground, a pathetic little creature. Her body shook with sobs.

“If you come begging at my door again, I'll send my boy after you.” Old Auntie spit on the ground. “You know what he can do, Girl. He'll make you sorry. And that's the truth.”

Selene shuddered and peered into the darkness. “Is he close by?” she whispered.

“Bloody Bones can be here or he can be far, but I reckon he's close enough to come if I whistle.” She leaned down to peer into Selene's face. “You want me to fetch him?”

“No, no, Auntie, don't whistle for him,” Selene begged. “I'll go away and I won't come back no more.” While she spoke, she stared about wild-eyed, searching the darkest shadows, as if Bloody Bones might be hiding behind a tree or a bush or a rock.

The moon came out then and shone full on Auntie's face. Her eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, her skin stretched tight across her skull. A few yellow teeth sat crooked in her lipless mouth and her nose was no more than sharp bone. She looked like she should be in her grave, not here in the woods.

She screeched with laughter and stuck her face so close to mine that I could smell her breath, rotten with decay. “Why, boy, I believe you ain't never seen the likes of me afore.”

I backed away, stumbled over Bella, and fell flat. The dog whined and cowered beside me. Behind the old conjure woman, I saw something move in the woods, snapping branches under its feet, snuffling, rooting in the dead leaves.

Auntie laughed again, a wild whoop this time that echoed from tree to tree and bounced off rocks. “He's here,” she hissed to Selene. “Old Bloody Bones hisself. Get yourselves away from here afore I send him after you both—and the dog, too.”

In a swirl of skirt and shawl, Auntie turned her back and strode away. The wind picked up, the woods stirred. She was gone.

But instead of following her, Bloody Bones stepped out of the woods and into the moonlight. His head was a hog's skull, the rest of him bones. Taller than my father, he walked toward us on two feet. His ragged overalls fluttered about him as he raised his arms to show us the bear claws. Then he grinned to show us the panther's teeth. As he moved slowly toward us, a whistle sounded in the trees. His head swung toward the sound, and he snorted.

“Come to me, dear boy,” Old Auntie called from somewhere in the woods. “Let them go for now, but if they come back, eat them.”

With a grunt of disappointment, Bloody Bones turned away and lumbered into the dark.

Bella threw back her head and howled, the eeriest sound I'd ever heard a dog make. Turning to Selene, who still lay on the ground sobbing, the dog sniffed her cautiously, going over every inch of her, as if reading the fine print in a contract. Then, looking up at me, she licked the girl's cheek.

My heart pounded and my knees shook with fear, but I leaned over Selene. “You heard what she said,” I told her. “We have to get out of here.”

With Bella leading the way, Selene stumbled silently beside me, keeping a tight grip on the doll. When we got to the hollow, she looked at me. “I can't see the cabin no more,” she said. “The lights are out and the chimney smoke's gone.”

She ran to the broken window and peered inside. She seemed to see what I saw—a ruined cabin rotting away in the woods, full of shadows, dark and abandoned.

“Come on.” I held out my hand. “There's nothing here for you or me now.”

The old woman comes into the cabin and slams the door behind her. Her shadow rises up and rolls across the room before her. She's so angry, she slaps the girl across the face, hard enough to knock her out of the chair where she's been sleeping.

The girl cringes on the floor, covering her face with her hands. “Don't hit me no more, Auntie,” she begs. “I ain't been sleeping long.”

But the old woman picks up her stick and whacks the girl on the back. “Look there—you done let the fire go out! Cain't I trust you to do nothing right?”

The girl scrambles to her feet and tries to light the fire, but she's fumble-fingered with fear. Any minute Auntie will hit her again.

“Get out of my way.” The old woman shoves the girl aside and squats to light the fire. She hears Selene crying outside, hears the boy dragging her away.

“Your brother come here to get you,” she tells the girl. “But me and my dear boy chased him off. Don't make no difference. He's got hisself another sister now.”

The girl stares at her, blank eyed. She doesn't have a brother. She's Auntie's girl. She's been here all her life. Just her and Auntie. Nobody else. Nobody except—except—her eyes go to the window. The pale face of Auntie's dear boy peers in at her. He grins and shows her his sharp teeth. But he's not her brother. Or is he? She doesn't know. She doesn't know anything.

The old woman sinks into her rocking chair and laughs at the girl's mystified face. “You ain't got no idea what I'm talking about, do you?” She feels like hitting her again. Or kicking her. Or throwing something at her. But she's tired from walking in the woods.

She leans toward the girl, baring her yellow teeth in a smile as hideous as the dear boy's wicked grin. “Your brother won't be back,” she says. “My dear boy has scairt him off. But if 'n he does come back, you won't go with him 'cause you love your old auntie and you know she loves you.”

She reaches out and pinches the girl's cheek. “Say you love me. Tell me, let me hear you.”

Tears of pain fill the girl's eyes. “I love you so much, Auntie, more than anything.” She wants to pull away from those fingers and their sharp nails, but if she does, Auntie will pinch harder.

“Tell me I'm good to you. Tell me I give you what you deserve.”

“You're good to me, Auntie,” she whispers. “You give me what I deserve.”

The old woman releases her grip on the girl's cheek and settles back in her rocking chair. The fire flickers and casts dancing shadows on the walls and across the ceiling.

The girl crouches by the hearth. Over her head, three bats hang upside down, sleeping the winter away. Bundles of dry herbs dangle from the rafters. The girl hates their smell. The whole cabin reeks of deadly nightshade, henbane, hemlock, and foxglove—poisons, every one of them. Auntie makes potions from them, things that harm and hurt and sometimes kill.

She tells the girl about them and cackles. “I got me a bunch of names on a list, both the living and the dead. One by one I gets my revenge on them who done wrong to me.”

In dark corners, black widows and other poisonous spiders lurk. The girl is afraid to sweep away their webs. She's also afraid of the scuttling noises the rats make. Sometimes she glimpses them darting across the floor from one corner to another. They're bigger than cats, and their teeth are long and sharp.

But most of all she's afraid of Bloody Bones. If she dared, she'd give him one of those little bottles of poison and kill him dead. That's how much she hates Auntie's dear boy.

But she doesn't hate Auntie. Oh, no. She loves Auntie. Auntie is all she has to keep her safe from Bloody Bones.

Bella led us eagerly down the path, never faltering, steering us deftly around rocks and roots and fallen branches. I'd lost the flashlight in the confusion and was grateful for the dog's sure footing.

All the way down Brewster's Hill, neither Selene nor I said one word. We didn't look behind us, for fear of what might be following us. Every noise made my heart pound. I thought I heard Bloody Bones snuffle, heard his hooves on the stones, smelled his hot, bloody breath, thought he was getting closer, closer. Soon he'd have us both, and Bella, too.

But when we came out of the woods at the bottom of Brewster's Hill, Bloody Bones was not behind us after all. Or if he had been, he wasn't there then. I paused and took a deep breath. Here on the edge of the field, with the house in sight, I felt almost safe. Bella licked my hand and wagged her tail. I watched her trot off toward Brody's house, sad to see her leave.

Selene's cold hand touched mine. She'd been crying silently. “I got no one now,” she whispered. Her voice was like a song you hear in the dark just before you fall asleep.

I squeezed her hand and felt its tiny bones shift in my grip. People were so fragile, so easily broken, so hard to put back together. “Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill will take care of you,” I told her.

Selene said nothing, but she let me lead her across the field toward the farmhouse.

The back porch light lit the yard like a spotlight. Before I opened the door, Dad threw it wide. “Where have you been?” he shouted. “Aren't we worried enough without your going off somewhere without a word to anybody?”

His eyes lit on Selene. “Is this the girl your mother was talking about?”

I nodded and squeezed Selene's cold hand. “She ran away, and I went to find her.”

Mom came into the kitchen, followed by the O'Neills. Looking at Selene with hostility, Mom said, “She took the doll with her. And she's wearing your clothes, Daniel.”