"Maybe. Can you hear the spirits of those who are alive?"

He shook his head. "My father said I was destined to become a shaman but that my connection to the spirits was so strong, I went mad. They decided to teach my brother in the ways of a shaman instead of me."

"That makes sense." For a moment, I let myself overlook the fact he'd killed somewhere in the neighborhood of ten people and buried them in his home because he was lonely. "If I had heard the spirits when I was young, I would be crazy, too."

We ate our stew in silence. Soon after, a chill touched the back of my neck, and I twisted to see the sky outside was growing lighter. My nerves were close to shot, and I was starting to feel overwhelmed by the whispers and knowledge that I was surrounded by death.

"I have to go, Fighting Badger," I whispered, praying he let me leave.

"Not until it is full light. You will get lost."

I almost wept at the words. He really wasn't going to add me to his collection. Facing him again, I stretched my legs and wrapped my coat around me more tightly to keep the chill of dawn from reaching me. It didn't make sense that the twin most likely to do something on the day Carter had identified had no intention of leaving his cave. With dread in my stomach, I realized I'd have to make good on my promise to return, at least once.

"Can I come see you on September twenty fourth?" I asked.

"When is this?"

"Nine days from now."

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He considered. "It is a long time," he said. "You will come sooner."

"How about I come back in five days and then again in nine? That time I told you about, when something bad happens, is in nine days. I want to come by and make sure you are safe that day."

He nodded. "That will do."

"What do you want me to bring you from town?" I asked. "Grilled corn?"

His eyes lit up. "Yes. And some for the spirits."

"I can do that."

"I will make us stew."

"You do make a good stew," I agreed.

"Fighting Badger? Josie?" someone asked from the entrance.

I twisted, startled to see the sheriff framed against the lightening sky. Relief trickled through me, followed by unease. He was alarmed, tense, his gaze on Fighting Badger.

"What're you doing here, Josie?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Talks to Spirits," Fighting Badger corrected him.

"That's right," I seconded, not wanting the serial killer at the back of the cave to get upset. "I have a new name."




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