Ritual Magic

have killed strangers instead of . . . I’m really very sorry about the clan, but we have no choice. The stakes, however, are obscene. I would never bind my beautiful Dafydd.”
    She needed to keep the woman talking. “Tell me about Dafydd.”
    Miriam’s face lit. “You’ll see,” she said eagerly. “Very soon now, you’ll see. He’s so beautiful, so much
more
than anyone or anything else. And he’s been so alone, so terribly lonely. He found me in my dreams. Or I found him. He . . .”
    Miriam liked talking about the god she called Dafydd. Lily listened with half an ear as she babbled on about how wonderful he was. Was it time?
    Pete was close, which wasn’t good, but he was watching his men. A pair of them carried Rule into the circle while another man held the charm to Isen’s chest. The fourth man waited beside Isen; Carl still had charm duty there. They were the only ones other than Pete who were close enough to be a problem. Miriam stood right in front of the French doors, about ten feet away—farther than Lily liked, but this might be the only chance she got. If she didn’t try to jump Miriam, but instead—
    Around the side of the house, a husky baritone voice started singing: “‘We shall overcome . . .’” A second later, his voice was joined by others—a child’s high voice, and Cynna’s? Could that be Cynna singing? And a voice Lily knew intimately. Her mother’s soprano came in strongly.
    Miriam jolted as if someone had shot her. “What’s that?” she cried. “What’s that singing?”
    “I’ll find out.” And Pete set off at a lope.
    Pete was gone, Miriam distracted. This was her chance. She’d arranged two signals with Cory for when it was time for him to release her—one spoken, one nonverbal. But she didn’t just want him to release her. She wanted him to throw her at Miriam. “Cory—”
    Drummond popped into sight in front of her, more see-through than usual. And frantic. He was waving his arms, shaking his head, saying with every motion
Stop! Danger! Don’t move!
His mouth moved, too, but Lily couldn’t hear a thing.
    Why?
she wanted to scream. Every muscle was tight with the need to move, to act—but Drummond knew things she didn’t. He’d helped more than once, and he kept being right. She panted with conflicting needs and made herself stand there, just stand there, even as her mind screamed that this was nuts. She was losing her best chance.
    Drummond faded out with his arms still waving
.
    Lily tried to look behind her, but Cory was in the way. He shifted and she could see the steps up to the path. She heard Pete’s voice faintly, and someone responding to him, and the singers continued to come closer. She waited, her body taut, wanting to act, to do—and then it was too late. Pete leaped down the four steps to the deck and ran up to Miriam to report.
    “It’s Cynna, Toby, Lily’s mother, Li Qin, and that homeless guy who was staying with Isen,” he said. “They approached the house. When Dave and Mitchell stopped them, they said they wanted to see you. Orders are to bring anyone suspicious to me, and they thought it was suspicious for them to ask to see you. How did they even know you were here? They’ve been searched. No weapons.”
    “What homeless man? Who’s Li Qin?” Miriam was baffled, tense, distressed. “No, never mind. Why are they singing?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “They need to stop. I can’t hear him. I can’t hear my lord. They’re singing too loudly.”
    They weren’t that loud. Not loud enough to drown out a voice you heard with your ears, but maybe . . . maybe the singing was happening someplace else, too. A place that Drummond was aware of and Lily wasn’t. A place that a saint might know about.
    Without thinking, she started humming along. A moment later Cory started humming, too. And others. All around them, lupi joined in, humming the old civil rights anthem:
We shall overcome . . . we shall overcome someday . . .
    And Miriam did nothing. Her face was as pale as the white powder she’d used to lay her circle and she swayed as if tranced or about to faint. But her lips were moving. She made no sound, but her lips moved:
Deep in my heart, I do believe . . .
    The singers came down the steps to the deck as calmly as if they’d been in a processional at church. Hardy held Toby’s hand; behind them Cynna and Julia walked hand in hand, too. Li Qin brought up the rear—and behind her were two