the salt. As the crystals left his hand, the wind which had been swirling around them changed direction, blowing toward John, carrying the salt unerringly into the spirit’s face.

The body which had once been John recoiled, raising a hand to his face, but not quickly enough to prevent Jim from seeing weeping red sores appear where the salt had struck.

Rachiel spoke through him, strength many times what Jim could summon on his own, infused in the familiar words.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the

paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.”

John’s forward motion halted, as if he had hit a wall....

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