Annie looked into Lewis’s eyes, deep wells of inhumanity. “No, Jenny,” she said. “It’s not just a myth.” Then she echoed Meloux. “How many?”

“You’ll never know.” And to Annie’s amazement, his grin widened even more, so that it became like a broad doorway into the hell of his soul.

Meloux beckoned Waaboo to him and put his arm around the little boy. “There is truth in our stories of monsters. And there is truth in our stories of heroes. The Creator does not allow one without offering the other to balance. You have the heart of a hero, Little Rabbit. Never forget that.”

“What do we do with him?” Prophet nodded toward the grinning monster in Meloux’s cabin.

Annie’s heart, hard as stone at the moment, had an answer. “Send him on the path to hell.”

Meloux had a different one. “We give him to those who see to the law.”

Prophet gave a nod. “But I’d rather not have to explain this and myself to the sheriff’s people. I’ll call the tribal police.”

LuJean Desjardins arrived in a tribal police Tahoe, accompanied by Officer Anthony “Zippy” Zuppardo. He was in his midtwenties, and although his skin was dark, it was the result of a summer tan. He had no Native blood in him at all. Still, Annie had heard from Daniel that he was a good officer and conducted himself well on the rez.

“I called Monte. Then I radioed the Tamarack sheriff’s office,” LuJean told them. “Deputies will meet us in Allouette and take custody of this scumbag.”

“We’ll need statements from everybody,” Zuppardo said.

“Except you, Prophet,” Desjardins said. “We’ll keep you out of this.”

“Miigwech,” Prophet said. “Here’s the rifle he used.”

“Same one used to shoot at Waaboo this morning, you think?” Desjardins asked.

Prophet said, “No, but he could have another rifle somewhere.”

“We’ll get it out of him,” Zuppardo said confidently.

“Oh, Zippy,” Desjardins said, shaking her head. “You still have so much to learn.” She cuffed Lewis, recited his rights, and said to her partner, “Put him in the back. I’ll be right there.”

When the young officer had gone with his prisoner, Desjardins said to Meloux, “If that man knows Waaboo is here, others may know, too.”

“We have Prophet,” Meloux replied.

“I’m not afraid,” Waaboo said.

Jenny laid a hand on her son’s shoulder and closed her eyes as if in prayer.

It was Maria who spoke a truth that made them all nod.

“The O’Connors are Wolf Clan, I am told. They stand together as a pack. In this, I am Wolf Clan, too. I think we all are, yes?”

Meloux smiled, adding wrinkles to his face, which was already webbed from a century of creasing. He looked at Annie and said, “The Creator has gifted you with a warrior.”

“I’ve known that forever, Henry,” Annie replied.

“You didn’t get your exorcism,” Maria said as they walked the trail back to the double-trunk birch. It was late afternoon by then, the heat of the day still oppressive. “I can feel your anger.”

“There was a moment when, if I’d had Henry’s rifle in my hands, I would have shot that man. He’s pure evil and his hatred of women is obvious. When I asked him if there were others he’s killed, he just grinned at me like a viper.”

They walked for a long time in a heavy silence. Then Maria said, “Alfonso Garcia.”

“What?”

“Long before you joined me in the barrio, I helped a woman give birth to her son. She named him Alfonso. He was a beautiful little baby. I watched him grow, a happy child for a while. Then his mother was killed, murdered. Alfonso was taken in by an uncle, a wretched man, cruel. He used that child in unspeakable ways, until he was himself killed in gang violence. Then Alfonso became a part of that gang. One night, a pounding at my door. There was Alfonso, covered in his own blood. He wanted me to help him, but there was nothing I could do. He died in my arms.”

“What’s your point?”

“No child comes into this life evil. Our world shapes us. Some of us are lucky. Others not.”

“You’re telling me that devil back there was once a pure spirit?”

“That is my own belief.”

“Then he must have had some hell of a childhood.”

“Yes.”

They were almost to the double-trunk birch. Annie stopped walking. She closed her eyes and felt the cool of the forest shade. She breathed in the evergreen-scented air. She listened to the singing of the birds, so many different melodies. It took her a while, but slowly she began to relax. When she opened her eyes, she said, “Forgiveness is a hard thing to offer to a spirit so lost in darkness.”

“But it is possible.”

Annie finally smiled. “You should have been a nun.”

“We are what we were always meant to be.” She held out her hand. “And that is together.”

With their fingers gently laced, they walked out of the woods and into the sunlight of that day.

CHAPTER 33

They were on their way back to Aurora from Sizemore School when a call to Monte Bonhomme’s cell phone rang through the audio of his Tahoe. It was LuJean DesJardins. He, Agent Shirley, and Daniel listened as she explained what had occurred on Crow Point.

“Let the Tamarack County Sheriff’s Department know,” Monte said. “Then bring him into our office in Allouette, and we’ll meet you there. We’re about an hour out.” He ended the call.

Daniel was flooded with an overwhelming sense of relief, but along with it came a significant feeling of guilt for not having been there to help. “Thank God they’re all okay,” he said. “And thank God for Prophet.”

“Prophet?” Agent Shirley asked.

“A friend of Meloux,” Monte said. “And you heard that LuJean and Zippy are on their way out to get Lewis and bring him in.”

“She didn’t say if they’d let Cork and Dross know,” Daniel pointed out.

“Let’s try to meet up with them in Allouette and sort things out,” Monte suggested.

“I’ll call Cork.” Daniel punched in the number.

“You guys get something?” Cork asked when he picked up the call.