Billy feels about it. If he doesn't want you in there, then ethically you're

on

pretty shaky ground. In that case, if you want to be really moral about it, I

suppose you'll have to vacate. But that doesn't seem like a very practical

solution, does it?"

"Not really, no," said Merlin. He blinked rapidly several times. Then he took

a

deep breath and moaned.

"What is it?" Wyrdrune said.

"The kid's starting to come out of it," said Merlin. "I have to give him

credit-—he's a tough little lad. A real fighter. It infuriates him, having to

relinquish control to me. He keeps resisting."

"Can you blame him?" Makepeace said.

"No, I suppose I can't," said Merlin. "He's a good lad. He doesn't really

mind

my being along for the ride, he just hates to let me drive. I suppose I'll

have

to work things out with him as best I can. Anyway, the important thing is

that

you're all here. I could certainly use your help."

He turned to Wyrdrune. "You were drawn here by the runestones, weren't you?

You

sensed the Dark Ones' presence?"

"Well, not exactly," Wyrdrune said.

"What do you mean, not exactly? What brought you here?"

"Modred's been taken," Kira said.

"Taken?" Merlin started to sit up, but Billy's body was still too weak, and

he

collapsed back down on the coach. "What do you mean, taken! How?"

Briefly Wyrdrune related to him the story of their shared dreams and what

they

had discovered since they had arrived in London.

"I have a strong feeling that these Ripper killings are related to Modred's

disappearance," he finished. "I think the Dark Ones are here, in London. Or

at

least one of them is."

"I believe you're right," said Merlin. "The Ripper killings are tied into it.

What's more, they're only the beginning. Necromancy. The gathering of

thaumaturgic energy through death. I can sense it. I've been trying to get

Chief

Inspector Blood here to work with me, but he simply refuses to believe me,

and

Billy doesn't make things any easier. He keeps insisting on taking over at

the

most inopportune moments, addressing Blood in that flippant manner of his. To

say that the boy is socially awkward would be the understatement of the year.

One simply doesn't refer to an Irish policeman as 'Mick,' even if his first