I could have left it at that and run. I needed to hammer home my victory and critically break these two apart. For the longer Grace and Bram spent apart, the more their already treacherous hearts would turn against one another.

  I might not have the power to take them both on at the same time, but they certainly had the power to tear one another down.

  Slamming my hands down on the crackling dirt, I lifted it up like one might a newborn child. It healed the gap in the floor, locking Grace down below. She shrieked, but it was soon cut short.

  If I had thought that meant I was out of the woods, good luck, for Bram rose behind me like the vestige of the darkest ghost.

  He plunged a hand into his pocket. Why, of course. That was his go-to move. He did not fight you with his strength. He fought you with all of the things he’d stolen.

  I would not give him the chance.

  “Move through the floor and run. You have the curse with you. There is nothing to hold your body off from moving through matter now,” I heard King Li’s call. His head popped out through the wall many meters behind me.

  I was not stupid enough to waste the time to turn and stare. But his words penetrated, nonetheless.

  Bram yanked a potion out of his pocket then threw it on the ground. The first and only thing I noted that mattered was it was a very peculiar crimson red. This was not blood. It was… the crushed remains of a soul crystal. I had never known that you could carve them up into dust. I would never have tried. It would’ve felt like sacrilege. But if there was one man good at bending and rewriting every rule of decency, it was Bram Stone.

  He threw the dust onto himself, mostly onto his fist, and the conclusion soon became clear that he would thrust it into my face to knock me out for good. He jolted forward, showing his strength and training as a military man. He was so quick, I almost couldn’t track him. But I was agile myself, and a lifetime of dealing with ghost requests had given me the skills to fight.

  I spun to the side. I experimentally tried to force my foot through the floor. A very distracting thing indeed when I had to keep my wits about me.

  He hissed, got close, and his punch sliced just by my ear. I almost felt it connect. His knuckles were so close, if I’d moved even a micron to the left, they would have struck me. The blow they’d rendered might’ve only been glancing, but trust me, with the crimson soul crystal dust, it would’ve felled me, anyway.

  That dust was… so very unnatural. I could hear it calling out to me. It wanted to return to what it had been, and if it could not, it wished to descend into the earth to be recycled.

  And it was not the only one crying out for that. I did not know what was happening to my senses, but I could feel them far more keenly than I ever had before. Blame it on the curse opening energy channels in my body or something else entirely, but it felt as if my dead practitioner powers were growing by the second.

  Wait, it was no feeling. That vortex of Ley lines still remained above me. Startlingly, so very shockingly, they started to grow. Just as I had seen those red Ley lines branching off from one another and proliferating previously, I now witnessed the same thing above me. But my Ley lines were white – this crystalline, clear hue as if they did not need color. They were there to transport and transform what was already around them.

  Those crimson Ley lines, on the other hand, were there to steal power but never make it.

  “Come here,” Bram roared.

  His voice was so very primed for dangerous threats. I wondered if he had ever smiled naturally in all of his life? I knew the answer. No.

  How could a man like Bram be created? How could somebody lose all human decency and trade it for power?

  Perhaps the kingdom had done it for him. Perhaps he’d only ever had the poorest of examples growing up.

  And perhaps I did not need to know that to defeat him.

  He went to punch me one last time. I needed to escape now. Lord knows what was happening to the rest of the palace, but unless I got out there, everything would worsen. I believed, even from here, I could hear the wolf.

  We were deep underground, but that was quite irrelevant. Its heinous cry still echoed out loud. And it would still be destroying every single ghost it came across. Enough.

  I’d never had love lost for ghosts because I’d never truly understood my role. But now my role was in my hands, and I would not let go of it for the world.

  Just as Bram punched me, I reached out, and I held onto that punch. I did it, not with my body and not with my mind, but with the very center of my magic. But here’s the thing. I failed to hold the punch. Because it sailed right through my hand. I, in the most startling moment of my life, got to decide what could hold me and what could not.

  You should have seen Bram’s eyes. Never had a man looked more surprised nor more frightened as to what could happen next.

  “Impossible,” he began.

  I would not fight with words when actions were far more suitable.

  Again, I got to decide what I could interact with and what could not interact with me. I leapt up, jumping with quite some agility – then I forced my foot out. I kicked him. It was such a solid move, he did not have a chance. Nor could he call on the power of his crimson crystal dust to fight me.

  He was thrust back. He fell face-first against the upturned dirt, just above where Grace had disappeared. I could thrust him down through the floor and trap them together, but I’d already told you I needed to keep them separate. For dark hearts will only grow darker toward one another when they are not present.

  He roared. He stretched a hand out to me. But it was far too late.

  I elbowed him and pushed him into the wall to the left. It took but a moment to grasp hold of his hand and force him through the dirt. I practiced my ghost magic but also my earth magic. And there was nothing he could do to fight off against such a tremendously strong show.

  He hissed darkly. His eyes opened wide with regret. But he could do nothing more. I thrust him through the wall, and it closed off behind him. While I certainly knew he had the power to break the stone, I did not give him that option. As I placed a trembling hand on it, I resorted the molecules. And yes, you heard that correctly. I strengthened their bonds, drawing magic and force from wherever I could to ensure that nothing short of the strongest practitioner in the land could break them.

  And then, why, when it was over, I took my first breath. Edgy, somewhat confused, but rather powerful nonetheless, I could’ve pretended it meant I had won. But it was not over. It had barely begun.

  King Li appeared through the wall to my side. He was still so very insubstantial. I had damaged him. I doubted he would ever heal. It wasn’t as if ghosts, once they were dead, could ever find more energy.

  “King Li,” I began, a tear welling in my eye.

  He lifted one hand. It was so very insubstantial, it was more accurate to say he lifted one wisp.

  He looked at me strictly, gaze cutting back and forth across my face until he hissed, “With you, we have a chance. The only chance we will ever have. Go. Save Winchester. Stop their wolf. Move now.”

  I went to move, but I froze. “Save Winchester from what?”

  “The king.”

  I could’ve questioned. I did not need to. My lips froze with terror as the rest of my brain finally caught up with them. Of course. I’d been questioning who Bram and Grace’s master was. I should never have bothered. It was the master of all. For who could wield enough power over enough people to do as much damage but the king?

  “But he’s dead inside. They controlled him with a spell—” I tried to reason through this confusing thought.

  “Go. The truth awaits. As does Winchester. You’ll be his final hope. Rise to the challenge, or he will slip beneath for good.”

  With that horrifying promise, the king disappeared. I did not think he had died, but he was surely close. And far more frighteningly, Winchester was close, too. I took another step then grasped my indenture mark. I knew that I could not feel him through it. To think I could was nothing more than wishful thinking. But I still grasped it as a single tear streaked down my face, fell off my chin, and splashed against my torn collar. “Winchester, wherever you are, you must hold on. Do you hear me? You must hold on, for if you don’t, I’ll break this indenturing for good, and you will lose me. You’ll… lose me.”

  The cold words could go nowhere. But they could at least do one thing. They fixed my focus forward. And I ran. I did not care what would get in my way. I would blast right through it.

  Chapter Six

  Lisbeth McQuarrie

  I could have escaped the basements. It was simpler to race through them. Quite possibly safer, too. I could hear the wolf, just as I could hear people screaming in terror. But both were becoming dimmer. Either the wolf was going further afield, or it no longer needed to be as fearsome, for it had eaten what it needed.

  The Ley lines still converged above me, but I must admit they were weak. They had this pendulous feeling to them, too, like they were about to drop. If you’d ever asked me, I wouldn’t have told you that Ley lines were like flowers, the petals of some beautiful rose. They’d always seemed stronger than that. But now I could see the similarity. For right above me, shockingly, one suddenly simply withered and died. I gasped and locked a hand over my mouth, but tell me this, what good could it possibly do? It did not bring the Ley line back. Nothing could.

  I longed to have King Li by my side to explain this, but I knew he was too hurt. And I knew, fundamentally, I had the ability to understand on my own.

  For so many years, I hadn’t questioned what it was to be a dead practitioner. I’d done my duty begrudgingly without understanding the sacred force within me. And the sacred duty that came with it. For it is one thing to act as we ought. It is another to understand the natural world to figure out what can ultimately be done.

  The curse still throbbed within me, its angry cry only getting louder the further I went from Grace and Bram. It recognized that without them there to control me, I might have a chance. I promise you I had more.

  The curse wasn’t exactly intelligent. But it did have something. Something I could clutch hold of as I secured a hand on the center of my brow and growled. “You won’t win in the end. You’re starting to realize that, aren’t you? It doesn’t matter what you think you can do or who will come to your aid – I will destroy the king, release his control of this kingdom, and exorcise you for good. Because you’re partially alive, aren’t you? That’s how I shall get rid of you.”

  You might think it would be smarter for me to have this conversation silently in my head. I ought to keep my plans to myself. That way the curse would never know what had struck it until finally I had rendered the last blow. But it was like any ordinary enemy. Leave it to its own devices, and it would continue to plan against you. If you instead distracted it with hard talk, it would not have the chance to do much but shiver with fear.

  I heard it hissing far more darkly now. Let it hiss as much as it wanted.

  I rose up another level in the basements. Such a complicated place. If a witch had ever been in control of them, she would’ve torn them down and started anew. For energy, when it’s taught to live as wildly as this, will change those who live above it.

  I could not blame the current king’s utter depravity on the energies of his palace. I could, however, actually plan to fight him properly.

  A part of me wished to run to Winchester’s side, especially considering I was most certain the indenturing mark was begging me to do so, but I needed some kind of edge.

  And perhaps I was about to find it.

  I was well aware of the fact that this palace possessed multiple treasures. I’d heard Winchester mutter about one once. Full of soul stones, he’d said. He’d promised me, if I ever got powerful enough, I would have to raid it for him.

  I was still infected by a curse, but I was certainly more powerful than I had ever been before.

  More powerful, in fact, than a sudden secret spell I saw winding through the dirt beneath me. It was my singular power over dirt that enabled me to detect it.

  I was quite used to finding security spells. It came with the territory of helping ghosts. Not all ghosts I’d helped had been simple folk. A lot had been practitioners. And some had been criminals. While I of course had never assisted them with their crimes, I had assisted them to make up for their mistakes once they had left. And I told you all of this now because, upon detecting that security spell beneath me, I identified just how powerful it was.

  Now quite capable of doing so, considering my newfound skills, I actually grasped it through the dirt. There was nothing to stop my fingers from sailing through each fine particle and every stone. And nothing at all to stop me from grasping up the spell and holding it in my hand tightly.

  I caged it with my own magic, and I started to pull it. I’d heard such a thing was possible for strong practitioners, but I had never imagined I could do something similar. Now, as I gave a very mighty tug, I heard something cracking ahead.

  I raced over to find a roughly hewn wall. It didn’t quite match. This part of the tunnel was carved stone.

  The wall was there to hide something. But the wall would not hide it for long.

  I lifted up my foot and went to kick through it, then shook my head. Of course. Why not simply walk through it?

  I strode right through the dirt, and it was a discombobulating experience indeed, but it was one I needed to grow accustomed to. When it came time to fight the king, I would require every advantage I could get.

  Once I reached the other side, why, I clapped eyes on perhaps the most beautiful treasury I had ever seen. The decorations and fine murals weren’t what mattered. It was what it stocked. Well-carved wooden shells were packed with crimson soul stones. Better than that, right in the corner was a garden that presumably created them. There were also glass vials and some strange device that, upon inspection, seemed to be the thing that crushed the crystals into dust. And the vials were full of such dust.

  It was extraordinary but extraordinarily ugly at the same time. For the vibe in here was so very oppressive, should you find yourself trapped, I imagined you’d have an hour or two before you blacked out for good.

  I had less than an hour or two and no intention to waste a single second. I longed to get these crystals straight to Wintersmith. I quickly assumed it was impossible then paused. Bram, an underpowered but intelligent man, could create gates. Winchester could, too, but he had skills beyond me. Why couldn’t I? With my current level of power, surely I could do the impossible?

  I turned. I wondered how long I would have?

  As if to answer that question, I heard something quite fearsome caught on the wind. It was a cry, but it did not come from the lips of a man. Oh no. It came from something far, far colder, without a single drop of blood and with nothing but a skeleton to keep it company.

  The piercing cry shook through the basements, filtering in even though there was no door for the noise to push through.

  “A skeleton guard?” I stammered. I had been unfortunate enough to come in contact with several during my lifetime. I had always run.

  Now I shook with fear at the promise of what they would do when they got to me.

  If they got to me. And they certainly would not get to this bounty.

  I grasped a crimson soul stone.

  “This ought to work,” I stammered. Then I crushed it.

  Its power arced up around me, joining with the power I’d already unleashed. The vortex of Ley lines above me became even more beautiful and dense. It looked as if a tree were about to grow above my head. Not one made of wood and leaves, but one made of the true force of nature.

  And yet the power soon ebbed. It disappeared into the Ley lines and certainly made them more numerous, but it did not give me the strength to create a portal.

  “Dammit,” I spat, a single tear leaking from my eye. There had to be a way.

  I crushed another soul crystal and another. I let their power escape, but I could not create a transport portal, and I was running out of time.

  Those skeleton cries grew more numerous. And far more worryingly, they came closer. I could not guess precisely where they were, but they could only be a level or two away. I did not know if they were attracted to me but, based on the number of their cries, I imagined they could statistically find me anyway. It was as if there were hundreds of them.

  I shivered at the promise of what that could mean to this already broken city. Then once more, I reached out and grasped a crimson soul stone. I closed my eyes. “Please work,” I fruitlessly begged.

  I did not know how many times I had done that over the course of this fearsome adventure. I could promise you this – and I imagined you didn’t need the lesson. One cannot simply ask for what they want. Especially not when civilization is falling down around their ears. There comes a point when you can pray all you can, but unless you can rise up and grasp what it is you need, you will still fall.

  So I rose. I had been down on my knees, but I shot to my feet and I squeezed both hands around the crystal. I went to crush it but stopped. Something held my fingers in place. I looked up at the Ley lines. They had gotten me this far. And I remembered some of the notes I had read from Winchester’s journal. He had questioned if, in part, the Ley lines were intelligent. Or, if not intelligent in the way that he was, intelligent in their own way.

  Witches are quite comfortable with such a concept, even though wizards aren’t. Nature has its own form of smarts. It is not just people who can analyze and who are self-aware.

  In fact, the ability to see sentience in others was one of the greatest gifts a witch could have.

  And perhaps it was the last ingredient in my growing power.

  Rather than crush the soul crystal, I turned my head up and asked of the Ley lines, “What do I do? How do I open a transport gate? I simply have no clue. Help me.”

  Perhaps this was just a variation of a prayer. But I pushed my full force into that plea. And I stared attentively at the Ley lines.