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Prologue

Then, during the War of Northern Aggression

S t Augustine, in northern Florida, was beautiful, especially by night It was the iraceful and lovely in the Deep South and, when seen by the gentle glow of the ht ever hope to see Spanish entle lace blanket, and a low ground fog swirled in a faint breeze that seemed to carry with it the whisper of a moan The silver mist curled around thethe cheeks of stone angels and cherubs standing atop newly dug graves, as well as those that had been there for centuries

Theday The low over the earth, turning the ce guardians and majestic display of ht

Tomen ca her way around the gravestones and funerary art

"This way," Martha Tyler said, lifting her lantern higher

"How much farther?" Susan Madison asked nervously as the moon slipped behind a cloud and the shadows deepened

Martha paused to stare back at her, conteo any farther at all"

Well, of course, I’ed to shout She hadn’t been afraid before; it had all seeht now, and maybe Martha did have so better

But now she was afraid The beauty was gone froht

Only death see in a shadowy graveyard by night, hearing nothing but the rustle of the leaves and the moan of the wind in the branches, and she was a fool ever to have thought that this would be an adventure

She had convinced herself that she had to play this gae of social and moral insanity The news in her life was always terrible, all about the war, death, advancing aruarantee that Thomas Smithfield would be alive in aleft of his hoht well be useless

"We’re here now, anyway," Martha said

"We’re here? Where is here?" Susan de around They had passed the MacTavish hteenth-century entrance to the section containing the graves of children, and even the oldest and most chipped and broken stones in the ce by a s through the stones of the dead, and the round The earth itself didn’t seeed in any place created by man at all It was ht here," Martha said, pointing Her voice dropped to a whisper, so soft that Susan could barely hear it "We’re outside hallowed ground here This wall--or what’s left of it--ents and the…the unhallowed"

Susan felt a sudden chill It was su here in the humid lowlands, with only the occasional breeze off the ocean to alleviate the wet heat But tonight she was suddenly cold with a bone-deep sensation that came from far more than just the temperature

Of course she was cold, she told herself Martha was frightening her That whisper she was using, the celow of shi

"You still have it? You didn’t drop the sacrifice?"

Susan told herself that the ominous tone was all part of Martha’s act, but even so, she shuddered as she reassured herself that she still had the little vial of blood, wrapped so tightly in her hand that she had practically forgotten she was carrying it

"Yes"

"You killed the creature yourself?" Martha asked

"Yes"

Martha approved her ansith a solemn nod as she took the vial of blood from her "Now the black drink"

Martha held up a small bottle filled with an inky liquid

Susan stared at her