As Lavinia jogged confidently up the path, she said playfully, “Say, you know what I’d like to do to you next time I have you naked?”

Sally listened half-heartedly to her erotic patter; the hearty cheer was too disconnected from the attacks that kept happening.

Through the tunnel they went once more. “And when the candle is burned to half length but still nice and long, see, I’ll blow it out and spread those cute little perky butt cheeks….” Lavinia went on and on. Sally realized that she was keeping up her own courage.

They emerged into the courtyard and Lavinia’s flow of speech stopped. “Keep talking to me,” Sally commanded.

The silence stretched too long. Sally braced for another attack. Lavinia faced the dim glimmer of the white cross above the doorway and didn’t move.

Sally stepped closer, close enough to strike. She pictured herself taking that tiny action. A quick thrust. Or a short burst of words: I revoke your invitation. The dreadful deed would be done.

She circled around and shone the flashlight on Lavinia’ face.

It was tight and scrunched but it still held reason, though with anguish of spirit as if she resisted a powerful call.

Lavinia’s hands lifted to hip level; Sally tensed. They spread slightly: what do you want from me? Her body tensed and her brow toughened.

“You’re Lavinia,” Sally started, but Lavinia shook her head, annoyed. Hurt, Sally stopped and watched, ready for anything.

Lavinia touched the raven emblem, the “magic” which had helped her before. Sally nodded, heart softening again as she watched Lavinia resist.

Her hand lifted to the opening of the pocket which the raven guarded. She reached inside.

When Lavinia’s hand came out, Sally couldn’t have been more surprised.

For a moment, she thought Lavinia had stolen the Mogen David that she had kissed in Rainbow’s shop. But this one was smaller and had a tiny menorah in the center of the six blue triangles. The menorah had only 6 holders, not the 8 Sally thought it was supposed to have. The star had a small ring on one point for a necklace chain to go through. It was the most un-Lavinia-like thing Sally could have dreamed of.

Lavinia held it out at that cross, that church building.

That dreadful familiar scream which only Sally could hear built until it rang in her ears and hurt her head. The chill of the night mist intensified.

Lavinia stepped forward, jaw set. Sally followed, still ready for anything.

The scream became laughter, despairing and insane. What did it mean? What had Lavinia done so wrong that the scream which had marked every breakthrough turned into laughter?

Lavinia reached the threshold, crouched low and stepped in, still pushing her way but moving resolutely. Sally cautiously followed.

Lavinia’s eyes gleamed at her in the flashlight glare. The sloping walls with their stone shelves danced with eerie shadows. Lavinia stood with hands on hips, looking around defiantly.

The crazy laughter echoed for another moment, then switched off.

Lavinia stretched like a cat and said, “I’m good. I’ve mastered this place. We can stay here.”