Except, for some reason, this house was not in his territory. That was the impression I’d gotten from his exchanges with Mr. Tom, at any rate. It was like this house was a sovereign nation, an island within the rest of the town.

The cops would help. They didn’t have to know about the magical stuff to respond to a prowler.

Right?

I pulled the covers away from my feet.

It was probably wise to check for a prowler before calling anyone. It wasn’t likely the police would believe me if I said I felt a prowler out there somewhere. They’d think I was cracked. And if they knew what house I was calling from, they’d be sure of it.

My fingertips tingling with fear, I edged over to the windows and looked out across the grounds. Branches lightly swayed in the breeze, their leaves moving like little bells. Moonlight sprinkled the ground.

If there was an intruder, he or she wasn’t visible from my window.

I closed my eyes and concentrated, imagining the magic was real, and I could use it to sense the location of the intruder. Almost immediately my sixth sense grew, pointing me to the side of the house, coming around the front.

“God, I hope I’m cracking up,” I said, my heart lodging in my throat, nearly choking me with fear. “I really hope I’m having a nightmare. Why did I want to head out on an adventure, anyway? I should’ve just gotten a few cats and stayed put. If someone breaks in here, I wonder if Mr. Tom can use that third story trap door and fly me out of here.”

An ah-ha! light flashed in my brain. That must’ve been the purpose for the trap door. An escape route for fliers.

Heart rampaging in my chest and limbs shaking, I hastily put on athletic sweats and stuffed my phone into my zippered pocket. I lightly jogged out the door and down the hall. My muscles screamed in protest, the soreness from my run a couple days ago stiffening my legs.

My knees cracked as I ran up the stairs to the third floor heading to the attic. Stupid old joints. That was one thing I would like to fix with a fountain of youth.

In the attic, I grabbed a crossbow and some arrows. While there, I picked up a spear just in case. I had no idea how to use a crossbow, but I did know how to jab someone with a long stick. It would do in a bind.

Heading back down the stairs, my ankles now crackling like pop rocks, I started compiling a checklist for the fountain of youth. By the time I reached the top of the stairwell leading down to the first floor, the presence felt like it was nearing the front door, its fast pace now slowing. Its goal was clearly the front stoop.

Why would a burglar come around to the front? And if the intruder wasn’t a burglar, what were they here for?

Last night flashed through my mind.

“You are able to sense the greater—”

I jumped, started to scream, and clamped a hand over my mouth to stop the sound from escaping. The crossbow thunked against the ground.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, miss,” Mr. Tom said from right behind me. He bent to grab the crossbow. “I thought maybe you would’ve felt me coming. Obviously you couldn’t have heard me, what with all your thumping around. You sound like a stampede of giraffes going up and down the stairs.”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Tom,” I said dryly, peeking around the corner and down at the front door.

“You can feel the greater surroundings, now, hmm?” he said, leaning over me to peek as well.

I elbowed him to get him off my back, but I was thankful he was there. It was less terrifying to go through a burglar situation with someone else, especially someone who named his weapons.

“I guess. There’s someone on the front porch—” I pulled back around the corner as a shadow loomed through the glass at the side of the door. My heart kickstarted, beating frantically. “You locked the front door, right?”

“Yes, but we have nothing to fear. There is just one of them, and Edgar is monitoring him or her. They don’t seem to want to do damage of any kind. Not yet.”

“What do you mean not yet?”

“If we’re living for the present, we have nothing to fear. If we are worrying about the future, this could be a bad omen.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know who we are dealing with, I know what we are dealing with, and if you mix all the ingredients together, it’s a recipe for disaster. But rest assured, right this moment we’ll be just fine.”

I looked over my shoulder, wondering if he could make out my expression that hopefully said what the hell is wrong with you?

“Cats. I should’ve chosen cats,” I said, peeking around the corner again.

“But then you would’ve had to clean litter boxes. What a drag.”

The shadow clipped the edge of the window before moving into the frame, directly behind the white, mostly see-through curtain. Its hand came up, as though shielding a glare, and its shape loomed larger, moving closer.

A thump sounded upstairs, directly above us.

I jumped, pulled back, and nearly wet myself. “What was that?” I asked, clutching Mr. Tom.

He looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I’m afraid to go look.”

“What do you mean you’re afraid to go look?” I whispered urgently. “You can shift to a bigger magical form, you have a weapon, and you can fly. I’d say you are well-equipped to check it out.”

“Yes, but whatever that was might have a better arsenal than old bones, weak wings, and a crossbow with the wrong kind of arrows.”

He gulped, and fear doused me. I hadn’t expected him to be afraid. He’d been so calm a moment ago. A fact I reminded him of.

“We were fine at the moment. That moment has passed,” he replied.

Pounding sounded above me, the thump-thumps of someone or something enormous heading toward the stairs.

“Whatever that is, it is in this house.” He yanked me back the way we’d come. “Let’s get into the walls. The closest entrance is this way.”

Which would take us toward the sounds.

“I am not running toward whatever that thing is for any reason. This way!”

I ripped out of his grip, dashed across the open space of the foyer, wondering if the shadow at the window could see me, and darted into the first room on the left. Mr. Tom was right behind me, his breath harried.

“How did they get into the house?” he asked, panic lacing his words. “I can’t even feel it in here. That shouldn’t be possible.”

“Can it get into the walls?” I ran across the room, fear quickening my feet. Loud thumping sounded somewhere outside the space, like someone crashing down the stairs.

“It’s louder than you are,” Mr. Tom said, pushing me out of the way and fitting his thumb into the side of the fireplace. “That means it is going for speed over stealth. It’s trying to catch us.”

The edge of the stone popped open. He reached in, turned the hidden handle I’d discovered the previous day, and yanked the small door open. He shoved me in first and shuffled in after me.

As he turned to close the door, I glimpsed a massive human-like shape filling the entryway to the room. The thing had to duck to enter. Its torso was covered in shimmering, deep gray metal, the armor etched with muscles and nipples like Batman’s costume. Long gray hair, like strings, hung over its absolutely massive shoulders.

Its roar filled the room to bursting. I flattened against the wall, dread drowning me, the click of the door not doing anything to block out the sound. I grabbed a suddenly frozen Mr. Tom and ran.

“Go, go, go, go, go!” I said, seeing the map I’d drawn in my mind’s eye. I’d done that so I could find my way through the secret tunnels. I always remembered better when I put new info onto paper. Thank God, because now I took the turns at breakneck speed, hearing a loud thump behind us.

That thing was trying to crash through the wall. I said as much.

Mr. Tom broke free from my grasp, getting his senses back online. “It can’t. These walls are structurally and magically fortified. It won’t be able to break through them.”

“It got in the house.”

“That’s because it’s a shadow wraith with some sort of magical armor that makes it corporeal. It opened a window.”

When we reached the first viewing area, Mr. Tom pulled ahead of me.

“What is a shadow wraith?” I asked. Another thud echoed down the passageway. “It sounds strong.”

“It does sound strong,” Mr. Tom said, hooking both of his hands through a little hole in the wall I hadn’t noticed before. “Sorry, Ivy House, but this is dire. I can’t let that thing get its hands on her.” A hidden door swung open—huh, a secret passage within a secret passage—and he ducked into the opening and grabbed an iron banister attached to a circular iron staircase, leading straight up. He hurried up the stairs. “A shadow wraith is a ghostlike creature that drains the souls of the living.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered. My stomach flipped in horror.

“That one has some sort of armor that gives it a corporeal body. Apparently it can still float, because that’s how it must’ve gotten in here. They don’t float as fast as I can fly, though, and they don’t fight well in the skies. The sky is our only hope.”

He slowed halfway up, and I realized his stamina was giving out. His age was showing.

Somewhere deep within me, I felt a pulse. Strong, solid, and sure, it filled me with assurance.

That pulse soaked into the walls. Buzzed through the iron of the staircase. Reverberated through the air.

That pulse was Ivy House, I knew, and the beacon that had drawn me in when I was young was calling me back.

I could fix Mr. Tom, I knew. I could turn back the years for him, curing his flagging stamina. Turning his sagging skin and bowing back into muscle and might, like in the days of old. I could boost my own stamina, too. Up my strength, claim the freedom of flight for myself—

The needle skidded off of the record, the first indication my thoughts were not completely my own.

“If I got that magic, I’d be able to fly?” I asked, winded.