knows Darkhallow

"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Preparing," I said. "I found out about the Darkhallow."
Butters blinked. "You did? How?"
I grunted. "Magic."
"Okay," he said. "What did you learn?"
"That this isn't a rite. It's a big spell," I said. "It all depends on drawing together a ton of dark spiritual energy."
"Like what?" he asked.
"Like a lot of things. The necromantic energy around animated corpses and manifested shades. The predatory spirits of ancient hunters. All the fear that's been growing since last night. Plus, the past several years have seen some serious magical turbulence around Chicago. Kemmler's disciples can put that turbulence to work for them, too."
"Then what?"
"They gather it together and get it going in a big circle. It creates a kind of vortex, which then funnels down into whoever is trying to consume the energy. Poof. Insta-god."
He frowned. "I'm not very clued in on this magic stuff, but that sounds kind of dangerous."
"Hell, yeah," I said, and crossed the room to a rack of riding equipment. "It's like trying to inhale a tornado."
"Holy crap," Butters said. "But how does that help us?"
"First of all, I found out that the vortex itself is deadly. It's going to draw off the life of every living thing around it."
Butters gulped. "It will kill everything?"
"Not at first. But when the wizard at the vortex draws down the power, it's going to create a kind of vacuum where all that power used to be. The vacuum will rip away the life energy of everything within a mile."
"Dear God. That will kill thousands of people."
"Only if they finish the spell," I said. "Until then, the farther back you are from it, the less it will do," I said. "But to get near the vortex, the only way to survive it is to surround yourself with necromantic energy of your own."
"Only those with ghosts or zombies need apply?" he asked.
"Exactly." I lifted a saddle from the rack. Then I got a second one. I hung both over opposite ends of my staff, and picked it up like a plowman's yoke, the saddles hanging. I started walking down the stairs.
"But wait," Butters said. "What are you going to do?"
"Get to the center of the vortex," I said. "The effort it will take to work this spell is incredible. I don't care how good Cowl is. If I hit him as he tries to draw down the vortex, it's going to shake his concentration. The spell will be ruined. The backlash will kill him."
"And everyone will be all right?" he asked.
"That's the plan."
He nodded and then stopped abruptly in his tracks. I felt his stare burning into my back.
"But, Harry. To get there you'll have to call up the dead yourself."
I stopped and looked over my shoulder at him.
Comprehension dawned in his eyes. "And you need a drummer."


Dead Beat Chapter 38, Page 347-348