She took a deep breath and then did it, turning to face the open, darkened closet. Her breathing was slow, but not steady. She was smart enough to be scared.

“Remember what I said,” I told her quietly. “When you feel it on you, close that circle and think of your children.”

She nodded tightly.

“I’m right here,” I told her. “It gets bad, I’ll step in. You can do this.”

“Right,” she said, in a very thin voice.

I nodded to her, trying to look calm and confident. She needed that. Then I stepped back out into the hallway. Yardly came with me, and closed the door behind him, leaving Megan and her children in the dark.

“I don’t get it,” he said in a low, quiet voice. “How’s it supposed to help the kids if they’re asleep?”

I gave him a look. “By destroying the creature that’s attacking them?”

His lips twisted sourly. “It’s a prophylactic effect thing, right?”

“Placebo effect,” I sighed. “And no, it isn’t.”

“Because there’s a real monster,” he said.

I nodded. “Sure.”

He eyed me for a while. “You’re serious. You believe it.”

“Yep.”

Yardly looked like he wanted to sidle a few more feet away from me. He didn’t.

“How’s this supposed to work?” he asked.

“The kids’ hair is going to substitute for them,” I said. “As far as the boogeyman is concerned, the hairs are the children. Like using a set of clothes you’ve worn to leave a false scent trail for something following your scent.”

Yardly frowned. “Okay.”

“Your sister’s hair is bound around them,” I said. “Binding her to the kids. She’s close to them, obviously loves them. That’s got a kind of power in it. She’s going to be indistinguishable from the children, to the boogeyman.”

“She’s a decoy?”

“She’s a damned land mine,” I said. “Boogeymen go after children because they’re weak. Too weak to stand up to an adult mind and will. So once this thing gets into the circle, she closes it and tears it to shreds.”