“Perhaps,” I mumbled.

“Please. I’d really like to see it.”

She seemed sincere. But my guess felt near-perfect.

Sufficient time had passed for that strange body-shifting spirit, which had dogged my trail in many forms, to have located a new host and then to have zeroed in on me again and be insinuating itself into my good graces once more. Coral was perfect for the role, her arrival appropriately timed, her concern for my physical welfare manifest, her reflexes fast. I’d have liked to keep her around for questioning, but I knew that she would simply lie to me in the absence of proof or an emergency situation. And I did not trust her. So I reviewed the spell I had prepared and hung on my way home from Arbor House, a spell I had designed to expel a possessing entity from its host. I hesitated a moment, though. My feelings toward her were ambivalent. Even if she were the entity, I might be willing to put up with her if I just knew her motive.

So, “What is it that you want?” I asked.

“Just to see it. Honestly,” she answered.

“No, I mean that if you are what I think you really are, I’m asking the big question: Why?”

Frakir began to pulse upon my wrist.

Coral was silent for the space of an audible deep breath, then, “How could you tell?”

“You betrayed yourself in small ways discernible only to one who has recently become paranoid,” I responded.

“Magic,” she said. “Is that it?”

“It’s about to be,” I replied. “I could almost miss you, but I can’t trust you.”

I spoke the guide words to the spell, letting them draw my hands smoothly through the appropriate gestures. There followed two horrible shrieks, and then a third.