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“I’m relieved we are rid of them.”
    “But it wasn’t their fault,” Stevie Rae said abruptly.
    “Pardon me?” The nun looked more than a little confused at Stevie Rae’s defensive tone.
    “They didn’t ask to be born like they were—all mixed up because of rape and evil. They really were victims.”
    “I don’t feel sorry for them,” I said, wondering why Stevie Rae sounded like she was standing up for the nasty Raven Mockers.
    Damien shivered. “Do we have to talk about them?”
    “Nope, we sure don’t,” Stevie Rae said quickly.
    “Good, and anyway, the reason I brought Zoey down here was to show her the tunnel you made, Stevie Rae. I have to tell you—I think it’s astonishing.”
    “Thanks, Damien! It was seriously cool when I figured out I could actually do it.” Stevie Rae took a few steps past me and into the mouth of the tunnel, where she was instantly surrounded by the total darkness that stretched behind her like the insides of a huge ebony snake. She raised her arms so that her palms pressed against the dirt walls of the tunnel. Suddenly she reminded me of a scene from
Samson and Delilah,
an old movie I’d watched with Damien a month or so ago. The image that flashed through my memory was when Delilah had led the blind Samson to stand between massive pillars that held up the stadium filled with awful people taunting him. He’d gotten his magical strength back and ended up pushing the pillars apart and destroying himself and . . .
    “Isn’t that right, Zoey?”
    “Huh?” I blinked, disturbed by the sad, destructive scene I’d been reliving in my mind.
    “I said, Mary didn’t move the earth for me when I made the tunnel; the power Nyx gave me did. Jeesh, you’re not payin’ attention to me at all,” Stevie Rae said. She’d taken her hands from the side of the tunnel and was giving me her
what’s going on inside your head now?
look.
    “Sorry, what were you saying about Nyx?”
    “Just that I really don’t think Nyx and the dang Virgin Mary have anything to do with each other; Jesus’ mama definitely didn’t help me move the earth to make this tunnel.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings or nothin’ like that, Sister, but that’s what I think.”
    “You’re entitled to your own opinion, Stevie Rae,” said the nun,looking as calm as usual. “But you should know that saying you don’t believe in something doesn’t make it any less possible that it exists.”
    “Well, I’ve been giving this some thought, and personally I don’t find it such an odd hypothesis,” Damien said. “You should remember that in your
Fledgling Handbook 101
, Mary is illustrated as one of the many faces of Nyx.”
    “Huh,” I said. “Really?”
    Damien gave me a stern look that clearly said
you really should be a better student
before he nodded, and in his best schoolteacher voice continued, “Yes. It is well documented that during the influx of Christianity into Europe, shrines to Gaea, as well as Nyx, were converted to shrines for Mary long before people converted to the new . . .”
    Damien’s droning on and on was a soothing background as I peered into the tunnel. The darkness was deep and thick. Just inches behind Stevie Rae I could see nothing. Absolutely nothing. I stared, imagining forms hiding there. Someone or some
thing
could be lurking mere feet from us and we’d never know it, not if they didn’t want to be seen. And that scared me.
    Okay, but that’s ridiculous!
I told myself.
It’s just a tunnel.
Still, my irrational fear pushed at me. Which, sadly, pissed me off and made me want to push back. So, like every moronic blond extra in a horror movie, I took one step into the darkness. And then another.
    The dark swallowed me.
    My mind knew I was only a couple of feet from the root cellar and my friends. I could hear Damien blabbing about religion and the Goddess. But my mind wasn’t what was beating in terror against my chest. My heart,