Liza found the house with little problem, right where Maggie said it would be. She hadn’t realized how nervous she was until she was pulling into the driveway. She considered turning around, but then the front door of the modest house opened and Tobias stepped out onto the small porch.

The old man’s eyes were shaded by bushy eyebrows, but Liza knew they were looking straight at her. She could almost imagine his disapproval from where she sat.

Liza took in the house and yard. So far, each of the three houses belonging to Old Ones had been completely different from one another. Tobias’s house was by far the simplest—single story, white paint, pull-down blinds on the windows inside with shutters on the outside. The yard was a combination of grass and dirt with four chickens milling about, pecking the ground.

Tobias wore his customary white shirt and black pants. His long beard covered most of his chest. He stood with his hands buried deep in his pockets.

Finally, Liza got out of the car and took a few hesitant steps toward the old man.

“I was wondering when you’d show up here,” he said. His voice was neither welcoming nor condemning.

“I don’t really know why I came,” Liza said. “I guess I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You could go back home.”

Liza nodded but said, “No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I tried. I really did.” She held the old man’s gaze with her own. “I don’t know why I was brought to this town or what my role in all of this is, but I do have a role.” She pulled the pendant over her head and held it out where he could see it. “Do you know what this is?”

He squinted in the fading light. “Come closer, girl. Bring it where I can see it.”

Liza approached Tobias, still holding the pendant out before her. He took a hand from his pocket and palmed the pendant.

“Glory be, that’s the talisman of the Prince himself.”

“The Prince? The Prince that Conall was talking about?”

“Where did you get this?”

“My mom threw it in the trash the night I was conceived. Her gardener pulled it out and kept it. He gave it to me before I left to come here. He said he’d always thought it belonged to my real father.”

“What do you know about your father?”

Liza shrugged. “Nothing. My mom says that night was like a dream she can barely remember.”

Tobias released the pendant. “Put that back on. Keep it on. Don’t let it go for any reason.”

“Why? What is it?”

Tobias started to speak, but he grew still, his eyes searching the shadows. “Get in the house, girl—now!”

The urgency in his voice chilled Liza, and she let him lead her inside. Tobias closed the door and locked it.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something out there. I could feel it, like it was stalking us.”

The image of the dead Old One came to Liza. What if Conall wasn’t the killer?

“What do we do?”

“Hush. Let me think.”

Liza scanned the shadows of the house. No lights were on. She wasn’t even sure if the Amish used electricity. Tobias took her arm and led her through near darkness. They stopped as he opened a door. “In here. Mind your step on the stairs.”

Tobias’s strong hand guided Liza through the door. She felt the floor drop from under her foot and stepped down. Again, the image of the dead Old One invaded her mind. “I don’t want to go down there,” she whispered.

He must have known what she was thinking. “We’ll not meet the same fate as poor Thomas.”

He guided her down a couple more steps, and then she heard the door close and a click as a light came on below. He rushed her the rest of the way down to a rough basement. The room was nothing but concrete walls and floor and wood beams supporting the house above.

Liza felt the pendant grow cold. The same feeling of dread from back in Los Angeles and the hotel in Kansas City overcame her. “Something’s out there.”

The old man turned to her. “How do you know?”

“How do you?”

“I can feel it. It’s in my blood to feel these things.”

Liza nodded. “I feel it, too. I can feel it out there. It knows we’re here, knows I’m here.”

Tobias looked at her, one bushy eyebrow raised. “You can feel it, can you? Just what is it you feel?”

Liza thought about it a moment. “Like I’m being hunted. Like something hates me and wants to harm me. It isn’t a feeling like something I’m thinking. It’s more physical. Like the closer it gets, the more my physical-self responds.”

“Responds in fear?”

“Yes.”

“And that talisman you wear around your neck? What’s its reaction?”

Liza noticed that he did not ask if there was a reaction, but what that reaction was. “It’s cold. It gets so cold it burns whenever something like this happens.”

Tobias opened his mouth to say something more, but a sound from above quieted him. He put a finger to his lips. Liza nodded, and the two of them stood in silence. Upstairs, something moved. The movement was quiet, but Liza didn’t think it cared about caution. It was stealthy by design.

Tobias leaned close and whispered in Liza’s ear. “Take out that talisman. Keep your hand on it. Don’t let go for anything.”

Liza’s sweaty palm closed around the small piece of metal. It burned into her palm, but it wasn’t so bad as the first time. She could hold it, though that didn’t calm her growing fear as whatever was upstairs drew closer. She looked over at Tobias. His lips moved silently, and his hard eyes were locked on the stairs.

The doorknob at the top of the steps rattled. A bead of sweat dripped down Liza’s back, though the basement was cool compared to the outside air. Her breath sounded loud in her ears, and she fought to quiet it.

The knob jiggled again, and there was a click as the latch opened. She thought she heard the door open, but there was no squeak of hinges or light spilling through it—only a light breath of air that carried a trace of putridness. Next came the sound of a footstep on the top stair. Again, the sound was soft, more like the step of a cat than a person. Another step, and a foot appeared at the top of the stairs. It was in no hurry.

Liza watched as the feet descended into the basement. As the being came into view, she realized that it was hard to distinguish the form as that of a human. She saw a person, a man, but at the same time, she saw something else, as if he were covered with another form—a form that was not entirely there.

It reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward them. Its eyes glowed red, sending fresh waves of fear and dread through her. She suddenly knew that this was the same man who had been in the back corner of the Roundup the night Jacob had been beat up. Hatred radiated from the figure. In the dim light of the basement, it was difficult to focus on him as the darkness encasing him shifted and blended with the shadows surrounding it.

“Glory be,” Tobias said.

“Were you expecting me, old man? You should have been.” The voice seemed to come from all around them. It was low yet loud, like an amplified whisper.

“I thought you dead,” Tobias said.

The thing—Liza had stopped thinking of it as a man—chuckled. “Can I be killed, Old One? Even I don’t know the answer to that. You can, however. Three of your brethren have proven that true.”

“What is it?” Liza heard herself say. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“It is a Rakshasa. To my knowledge, the only one left on this side of Tír na nÓg. We did not think there were any left.”

“You know so little, Princess,” the Rakshasa said. “You have much to learn of your people.”

“My people? What are you talking about?”

“You leave her be,” Tobias said. He stepped in front of Liza. His voice was strong now, the shakiness having fled as courage or resignation took over.

“You can’t stop me, Old One. Your powers have become so weak in this modern age. Weak and soft. This whole world is weak and soft. The fae will gorge themselves on the human race, and your kind will come willingly. Once the Prince and his Princess are united, nothing will stop us.”

The Rakshasa held out one hand. In it lay a huge knife. The blade began as a single shaft that divided into three as it extended from the pommel. It glowed with a green light that shone no further than the blade itself. Liza’s gaze was drawn toward it. The light was familiar, almost comforting. Tobias moved to one side, blocking her view. As soon as her vision was clear of it, the evil it radiated hit her like a slap.

What is that thing?

Tobias muttered some words too soft for Liza to understand. He held his arms out to the sides, and his head tipped back as the words came faster. Stars of white light danced at his fingertips, growing brighter as they multiplied and covered his strong hands. The thing of darkness shrunk back as the light intensified, but it did not retreat. Tobias lowered his head until he once again faced his foe. “My Lord protects me. I do not fear you.”

“Then you are as foolish as the others.” The Rakshasa lunged with the knife. Showing incredible strength and speed for one so old, Tobias caught its wrist in one hand and grabbed it by the throat with the other. Liza found herself scurrying out of the way to avoid being struck by the combatants. Tobias growled as he pitted his own strength against that of the Rakshasa, the sound a mixture of strain and fury. The Rakshasa made no sound at all, not even breathing that Liza could hear.

The combatants stumbled around the basement, each seeking some advantage over the other. Liza could not help but remember that this thing had killed three other Old Ones. What chance did Tobias Yoder have against it? She could see sweat dripping from Tobias’s face as the exertion of the fight took its toll on him.

“You cannot win, Old One. The time for you and your kind is over. A new world is on the cusp of birth.”

“’Tisn’t the first time I’ve heard that,” Tobias rasped. He stumbled and lost his grip on the Rakshasa. It took advantage and grabbed Tobias’s throat. It slammed the Old One against the concrete wall so hard that Liza felt the blow must have broken Tobias’s back. Still, the Old One held back the knife that now hovered only inches from his chest.

Liza felt a sharp pain against her palm. She’d been so focused on the battle that she’d forgotten about the pendant. It pulsed in her hand, the white light still shining from between her fingers. She pulled the chain over her head.

Liza heard a scream and turned to see the glowing blade touch Tobias’s chest. Without thought, she ran the three steps to where he fought for his life and rammed her shoulder into the Rakshasa. It was like hitting a brick wall. She found herself on the floor, the breath knocked from her. She pulled herself to her knees. Tobias had managed to push the knife away from his flesh, but it was obvious he had little energy left. The talisman still pulsed in her hand. She held it before her face and opened her fingers. It looked different, almost alive.

My strength is all you need.

Liza was certain the words came from the talisman, that it was somehow communicating with her. She didn’t know what it meant, but she followed her instinct. She held out her hand toward the Rakshasa. It uttered a surprised sound and turned its attention on her. She sensed waves of fear, but the feelings could not penetrate the light that shone from the talisman.

She crawled closer to the Rakshasa, one hand supporting her on the floor, the other holding the talisman high. At the last moment, she lunged and touched the talisman to the Rakshasa. The scream that emitted from it penetrated mind and soul. She fought to keep her hand outstretched. The thing jerked and spasmed beneath her hand, as though caught in an electric shock from which it could not tear itself free.

The thing’s screams hit a crescendo that Liza thought would crack her head open, and then a silent explosion tossed her across the room. Overhead, the lightbulb popped, showering sparks that blended with those that danced across her vision as she slammed against the wall. The white-hot glow of the talisman filled her view and then faded as she slipped into darkness.