We left the barn and walked down the country road in silence. Eventually we left the dirt road, crossed a pasture, and then went over a small hill. On the other side of the hill sat a white farmhouse. Luke pointed at it. "There. It's not far. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. About what you said...the last ritual." I swallowed thickly. Take a life. I'd heard the words, but my mind refused to fully comprehend what he'd said. As a healer, my path had always been one of helping others. Luke said that his kind no longer performed human sacrifices, that those kinds of things were no longer allowed and hadn't been for centuries. "You aren't seriously saying you want me to kill someone?"

"I want you to help someone pass over to the other side. Someone who's sick and in pain," he answered.

I froze at his words. "But I'm a healer."

He stopped walking and turned towards me. "You were a healer. Now you're a death dealer."

I shook my head insistently. "I can't do it."

"You have to," he said quietly.

"I can't kill someone," I whispered.

"Colina." He moved closer, grabbing my arm.

When I tried to pull away, his fingers tightened. "It has to be done. You aren't killing them. You're helping them move from this plane to the next."

I couldn't do that—I couldn't help someone die, not when everything in me would be screaming for them to live.

He was watching me closely. "I found someone who needs our services. The family called yesterday."

"When we were at Pagan's someone called?"

"There aren't a lot of death dealers. Those who know about us can find us if they need help to end the suffering of a family member who's sick and in pain." His grip on me relaxed, and his voice turned persuasive. "They ask for help for those who no longer have hope, whose existence is filled with suffering."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This was something his guild did on a regular basis? "Have you ever done it? Helped someone to the other side?"

His expression was solemn. "Yes. We all have to. It's part of the ritual."

"You can't ask me to do this!" My voice was louder this time, a bit more hysterical.

"Colina, you're stronger than you know. You survived the first two rituals. This is the last one—the last bridge that has to be crossed for you to be initiated as a death dealer."

"But I can communicate with the dead already. I can talk to them now whether I want to or not."

"Yes, you can communicate with spirits, but you can't control them. Not in the way you need to in order to—"

I interrupted him. "—bind them to me?" I pulled my arm out of his grasp. "And by murdering someone I'll gain this power?"

Luke was getting angry; I could see it in his eyes. "It's not murder. Death dealers assist those who need to cross over. We do not kill to gain power, we do not murder people to steal their souls. I told you that kind of behavior has been condemned for centuries. This is the kind of bigotry is what makes it impossible for my people to walk the streets safely."

"Tell that to the men holding your sister," I shouted.

His anger boiled over this time and his voice came out in a low growl. "The mages involved in this have crossed the line. They've gone down a path of forbidden magic. Macaven will be brought to justice for what he's done."

If there was any true justice in this world, I would see them dead. "You want to see them imprisoned and punished for their crimes? They murdered people. They are still out there killing people even as we stand here."

"My people won't let Macaven get away with the things he's done. I promise you, Colina, there'll be a reckoning."

But how many more would die before this justice came about? His people weren't around. There was no one to stop this madman but the two of us.

He was watching me. "This last ritual won't be easy, but I know you can do it. You have to remember that the family requested our help. They're asking, begging for our help."

I didn't know what else to say, so I stayed silent.

Luke started walking again. What choice did I have but to follow?

We made our way down to the farmhouse, and Luke pounded on the front door. After a while it opened, and in the entrance stood a good-looking guy about our age with dark, disheveled black hair cut short and spiky, and wearing a shirt that was only partially tucked in. He was a bit taller than I was, blocky and muscular, and built like a football player. When he saw us, a huge grin spread across his face.

"I heard you were back." He swung the door open wide and waved us in.

Luke stepped inside, and I followed close behind him.

"Freddy, this is Colina."

Freddy took in my outfit and then Luke's. "You show up at my house at the break of dawn, what's up? You staying at Pagan's place? Have car problems or something?"

"We're in trouble," Luke answered.

Freddy's expression turned serious. "Okay. Fill me in, but can you do it while I make some coffee? You know how I am before I have my first cup of java." Freddy started heading out of the room, Luke on his heels, but he stopped abruptly and turned back toward me. He gestured to the couch. "Sit down. I'll turn up the heat. You look cold. Make yourself comfortable."

I looked around the room. I'd never been in a farmhouse before, but it looked like I'd imagined one might. The furniture was mostly older and worn, but clean and comfortable. Antiques were scattered around. Overstuffed cushions on the blue couch beckoned me to relax into the security and warmth of the old house. I gave in, sank into the cushions, and curled up on the couch, wondering if it was possible for me to ever feel truly safe and relaxed again.

I don't know how much time passed as I stared out the window, lost in my thoughts. It took me a minute to notice Freddy standing in front of me. He handed me a cup of coffee and put a pair of gray sweatpants next to me on the couch.

"Luke filled me in."

I wrapped my fingers around the hot cup and took a sip. The heat felt good against my cold fingers.

"Where is he?"

Freddy sat in an old armchair across from me. "He took the car. Said he had to get some things."

I felt my anger rise out of nowhere. I couldn't believe Luke left me alone with a complete stranger. Then I felt a rush of anxiety—Luke was out there alone. Are they still looking for us? What if they spot him? The alarm I felt must have shown on my face.

"Don't worry. He told me to tell you that he won't be long. Do you want something to eat? I have cereal."

I forced a smile. "Cereal sounds fantastic."

Freddy pointed at the closest doorway. "The kitchen's through there. Come in whenever you're ready."

"Thanks," I said.

Freddy got up and left the room.

I took my time finishing the coffee. When I held up the sweatpants, I found they were far too large. I stepped into them anyway and pulled the string as tight as it would go. They still weren't tight enough; on my first step forward, they started to fall down. I grabbed one side of the pants with my left hand and made my way into the kitchen.

Someone liked the color yellow. It was everywhere, from the walls to the utensils and even on a kettle on the stove.

Freddy was rummaging through the fridge.

"Cheerful kitchen."

"Thanks." He pulled out a jug of milk.

There was a box of cereal, a bowl, and a spoon already set on the table. I made my way over and sat down.

"Sounds like the two of you had quite a night." He placed the milk on the table in front of me.

"I'm just happy to have survived it."

Flopping down, he sat across from me. "So you're becoming a death dealer."

"I am." I poured cereal into the bowl, avoiding his stare.

I seemed to have Freddy's full attention.

"Something you're doing by choice?" he asked.

"It is." I chose this path—this crazy, twisted path that was now heading in directions I'd never imagined. But now that I was on it, I didn't have any choice but to follow it to the end.

He leaned back in his chair. "It's just that you don't hear of many people choosing to go into something like that. Usually you're born into it."

Freddy seemed nice enough, but I wasn't about to pour out my soul to someone I'd just met. I wondered how many questions he had. I guess I'm about to find out. He didn't look like he planned to leave the kitchen anytime soon.

I poured milk over my cereal and didn't say anything, but my silence didn't seem to deter him.

"Luke said you used to be a healer." He leaned forward, and a frown formed on his brow. "I've never heard of a healer becoming a death dealer."

"Neither have I," I answered honestly.

Whether possible or not, the rules against it were clear—my clan would either shun me completely or lock me away for even trying to gain dark magic. It occurred to me that it had to have been tried at some dim point in the past and gone badly enough that a rule became necessary. Will I turn into something more hateful to my clan than death dealers?

The thought unsettled me, but I tried to keep the alarm off my face—apparently without much success. Freddy had a questioning look in his eyes, and I explained. "If my clan finds out what I'm trying to do, they would at the very least shun me. Going home is not really an option for me anymore."

"You don't have to worry. Your secret is safe with me. Luke and I've been friends since we could walk. Our parents have known each other for years."

My surprise must have shown on my face because he continued. "I know his kind usually stick to themselves, but our fathers grew up together. They aren't related by blood, but they were raised together like brothers." Freddy's expression changed, he looked angry. "Luke says someone has Darla. Someone's holding her hostage. I told him I want to come with you guys and help."

We could use all the help we could get, but it wasn't my call to make. "What did Luke say?"

"That I'm not mage born, but that doesn't mean I can't be useful. When he comes back, will you help me persuade him to let me come along? I can't just sit by and do nothing while Darla's in danger."

Luke made it pretty clear he didn't want Freddy coming with us. I doubted anything I said would change his mind. I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll try."

Freddy nodded and got up from the table. "Help yourself to as much cereal as you want. There's orange juice in the fridge."

"Did Luke say when he'll be back?"

"Nope." Freddy gave me a smile. "Luke's always been a bit mysterious." His eyes filled with amusement. "Don't worry. Our boy will be back soon, safe and sound."

I took a spoonful of cereal and tried not to worry, but my thoughts kept going back to the last ritual. Every time I heard Luke's say "take a life" I couldn't help but shudder. If I do this awful last ritual, what does that make me?

A murderer?