Gage looked at the knife, then into Cal ’s face. “Blood brothers.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Already committed, Fox held out his hand.

“At midnight,” Cal said. “We should do it at midnight, and we should have some words to say.”

“We’ll swear an oath,” Gage said. “That we mix our blood, um, three into one? Something like that. In loyalty.”

“That’s good. Write it down, Cal.”

Cal dug pencil and paper out of his pack. “We’ll write words down, and say them together. Then we’ll do the cut and put our wrists together. I’ve got Band-Aids for after if we need them.”

Cal wrote the words with his Number Two pencil on the blue lined paper, crossing out when they changed their minds.

Fox added more wood to the fire so that the flames crackled as they stood by the Pagan Stone.

At moments to midnight, they stood, three young boys with faces lit by fire and starlight. At Gage’s nod, they spoke together in voices solemn and achingly young.

“We were born ten years ago, on the same night, at the same time, in the same year. We are brothers. At the Pagan Stone we swear an oath of loyalty and truth and brotherhood. We mix our blood.”

Cal sucked in a breath and geared up the courage to run the knife across his wrist first. “Ouch.”

“We mix our blood.” Fox gritted his teeth as Cal cut his wrist.

“We mix our blood.” And Gage stood unflinching as the knife drew over his flesh.

“Three into one, and one for the three.”

Cal held his arm out. Fox, then Gage pressed their scored wrists down to his. “Brothers in spirit, in mind. Brothers in blood for all time.”

As they stood, clouds shivered over the fat moon, misted over the bright stars. Their mixed blood dripped and fell onto the burnt ground.

The wind exploded with a voice like a raging scream. The little campfire spewed up flame in a spearing tower. The three of them were lifted off their feet as if a hand gripped them, tossed them. Light burst as if the stars had shattered.