Panic strangled my soul—it was like something burst inside me, spilling waves of dread into my lungs, drowning me in terror. Wolf frowned, his lips moving, forming words I couldn’t hear over the rush of blood flooding my ears. Somehow, I managed to swim to the surface and shake the terrible feeling. Wolf put his arm around my shoulders, guiding me away from Sassy’s house. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of our feet as we hurried down the path and past the front gate. Behind us the spirit bottles clinked and chimed louder and louder in the wind like miniature alarm bells.

Chilly night air fanned over us as we reached the end of the trail. Wolf’s truck loomed ahead. He kept a hand on my back as he opened the door and helped me in. I reached for my seatbelt, and then paused, letting my hand return to my lap. Why bother—why not just let go? I was doomed anyway. What good would a seatbelt do to stop something that was unstoppable?

Wolf and I rode in silence, my mind swimming with horrible thoughts. What would happen to Benny? Would he ever know how much I had loved him?

“We’ll need flashlights, shovels and maybe some rope.” Wolf glanced at his watch then back at the road. “We have a few hours before dawn, but it’s going to be slow searching in the dark.” He jerked a thumb at the dash. “Check the glove box and see if I have an extra flashlight in there.”

Still numb from shock, I opened the dash, my fingers grazing cold steel and pulled the light out.

“I hope the batteries are still good,” Wolf said. “It’s a spare and I don’t use it that much.”

I clicked it on, gave it a good shake and a bright beam cut across the dark cab.

“I’ve got two shovels in the bed of the truck. I’m going to try to drive to the riverbank near the shacks. It’s boggy down there, so we’re gonna have to be careful. No wonder the general gave that land to Sabine. It’s almost useless—except for the area where they built the slave quarters.”

Anger seared up my spine at the mention of her name, sending waves of heat into my cheeks—I couldn’t let Sabine win and I couldn’t let myself give up, no matter how sick or tired or frustrated I was. No matter what, I was determined to find the mirror and break the spell forever.

Wolf drove between the front gates of the mansion, weaving through brush and trees, getting as close as we could get to the shacks. Within minutes, the headlights fell upon the crude slave shacks.

Outside the gloomy night carried a wet chill like a damp sponge. A lonesome wind whooshed through a stand of cypress and oak trees, leaves rustled beneath our feet. We trudged through patches of thick briars prickling our skin and grass heavy with moisture. Cold, moist air brushed across my neck like a phantom’s breath. I tugged at the knot that held my hair in a bun, letting it loose to cascade down my back. Still, I shivered as we followed faint streams of moonlight.

A thin layer of wispy clouds crept across the sky, darkening the path. The tip of my foot struck something solid. I pitched forward, sprawling to the ground. I scrambled to my feet, palms covered in moss and dirt. I shined the flashlight onto the object.

A tombstone!

The light illuminated more stones. They leaned together, as if conspiring. Some were granite, cracked and covered with moss. Others were plain fieldstones with only a first name etched across the surface, sinking into the vine-covered soil. The wind died down as if holding its breath. Death surrounded us.

“I almost forgot about this place,” Wolf said. “It’s the old slave cemetery. Sure is a shame how no one takes care of it. He motioned me to follow with a wave of his hand. “Come on, the cabins are over here.” Dodging the headstones, we threaded through thick stands of thistles, wild rose bushes and pools of mud.

Wolf pointed his flashlight at the dilapidated cabins, crouching like predators in the dark, moldering into the soggy ground. Some were mere piles of boards and weeds while others had partially collapsed onto themselves. Only a few remained intact. The air was heavy with the decay of old, rotting wood. I cringed, imagining hairy spiders hiding in every crack and corner of the logs, feasting on the shrouded husks of their victims.

“We can cover more ground if we split up,” Wolf said. “You take the ones on your left, they look more stable, and I’ll search the ruined ones. Yell if you need me.”

I clutched my sore throat. “Not sure if yelling is something I can do.”

Wolf winched. “Sorry, I forgot about that. Just try to be as careful as you can. I’ll hurry and meet up with you soon.”

Wolf dashed off and entered a cabin to our right. I crept to the first cabin in the opposite direction. The wind picked up again, blowing at my back as if trying to force me inside. Just as I reached for the wooden door handle, a shutter flew open, banging against the side of the shack. A scream stuck in my throat. Heart pounding, I wrenched the door open. It fell, useless, from its old hinges and crashed to the ground. The flashlight cast a dim light inside, revealing old push mowers, hedge clippers and a rusty stove with weeds poking out of its wood-fed burners. Mounds of rusty-red farm machinery lurked in the rear.

If the mirror was in there, it’d take years to find it with all the junk piled inside. I studied the small building. The logs were rough hewn with huge gaps between them. Even the ravages of time couldn’t disguise the poorly made structure—definitely not the type of cabin Sabine would have had.

I hustled to the next cabin and peered inside a window. It was empty, except for a broken three-legged table lying on its side, growing into the ground. I scanned the area ahead and spotted a single cabin, sitting off by itself. The structure was much larger than the others, straddling a small hill, overlooking the area. It appeared standoffish, perhaps like Sabine herself—left alone to rot into the marshy earth.

I hobbled over the rough ground to the cabin, with the flashlight bobbing back and forth. Tree roots along the path tangled around my ankles like knotted fingers trying to stop me. I ran the light across the massive hardwood door and fancy brass doorknob, just like the doors in the main house. In the center, something was carved deep into the wood. I waved the light over it to get a better look. Crosses and other religious figures were etched across the face of the door. Maybe the other slaves etched these into the door like some kind of hex, hoping to stop her spirit from returning after her death. I saw something that looked like a giant S. My heart skipped.

This was it.

It had to be.