It had to be more than an appearance, for further off into the city, I heard the bang and crash of the wolf sowing more mayhem. “There’ll be nothing left of this kingdom when they’re done with it. The king is a fool.”

  “I imagine the king thinks that when he has all of this power, he can simply turn around and take on neighboring kingdoms. Irrelevant. The curse already rises,” Winchester said.

  He looked beneath his feet.

  All I had to do was look within me to feel the curse. For it was still there – this forever-cold lump in my chest, this point behind my brows. This invitation to give up and give in. For it could see everything I was doing, and it had already concluded there was no way for me to win. But every time we take another step, regardless of our enemy’s worst estimations of us, we win in a certain unique way.

  For even if you do not claim total victory, every moment of resistance will count in the end.

  But I was not the kind of witch to have only a partial victory.

  As I ran past the crumpled remains of the gate and heard more mayhem from further afield, I grasped up Winchester’s hand harder and tried to desperately think of a way out of this.

  If only I had taken the crushed-up soul stones. I could go back to the armory and unbury them. But the mere thought made me shudder hard enough to lose my shoulders. No. I would not descend to the level of my enemy. I would keep my head above the moral iniquity or drown beneath it. I would never swim in their refuse.

  “Lisbeth, what are you thinking of? You’ve gone quite silent, and it’s worrying.”

  “The wolf is a fell beast. I worry we don’t have the power to take him on.”

  “Perhaps—” he began.

  We’d only made it a block away from the palace. From the constant screams and howls, the wolf was nowhere near us. But as we ran around the corner, we found the next best thing. Or the next worst thing, rather.

  Bram. He’d found a cloak from somewhere, and though it did not cover his face, that was irrelevant. He was down on his knees, and he was, oh how ghastly, he was stripping the soul from that poor dockworker ghost I’d seen at the cemetery. The man writhed. Magic pinned him, and there didn’t appear to be anything he could do to break it.

  I reacted long before I could think it through. I raced over. I was still in my mist cloaks. I should really have paused to give some to Winchester, but we hadn’t thought of that yet.

  I reached Bram and shouldered him out of the way in a strong move. My elbow connected to his arm, and there was a satisfying crack. I disrupted him during an important part of the spell, and as he was flung sideways, Winchester reached the pinned ghost.

  Without presumably knowing what this dark spell was, Winchester threw all caution to the wind and simply grasped hold of the ghost and wrenched him free of his prison. Dark dead energies certainly played around Winchester’s hands, and I could smell that they singed his flesh somewhat, but that was irrelevant. He quickly threw the ghost through an open door to his side. “Descend as far as you can. And run back to the cemetery if it’s possible. We’ve got this.”

  Bram picked himself up. “Who’s this we, Brother?” he spat as his hood slid from his face and revealed his clenched teeth. True violent rage played in his gaze. Why, it was so tremendously strong, I thought it would burn a hole through anyone he stared at.

  But there was never a man stronger than Winchester Stone. Nor was there a man with more to prove.

  “How did you slip the king’s clutches? Oh well. I suppose I’ll deal with you myself. It’s only appropriate, isn’t it, Brother? Only appropriate that you finally fall to me.”

  Bram did not want to turn to me. Wait… he hadn’t seen me. He’d assumed the attack that had thrown him to the ground had come from Winchester. I had an advantage with my mist cloaks, but would it count?

  Bram lifted a hand, and there I saw the signet ring. It was a pair for the one the king wore, albeit one made out of wood curiously and not metal. I supposed that was to keep a hierarchy of privilege in place. Only the king had gold. His workers could have wood or rusted iron for all he cared. Not my point. For as Bram clutched at the ring, there was a sudden roar from behind us.

  I had paid attention to the wolf – I honestly had. The last I had heard it – only a second before – it had sounded as if it was many blocks away. But somehow I suddenly heard it from above. I jerked my head up in terror to see it looming over the pub above us. Its face came into view – then it roared once. It bounded down, landing by Bram’s side.

  The wind of the move was so strong, it lifted my cloaks and threw them back.

  Bram saw me. “You deal with her. I promised her to you, after all. Do not kill her, but bring her close. As for you, Brother,” Bram growled as he squared off in front of Winchester, “it’s time to end this.”

  “Lisbeth,” Winchester roared.

  “I’ve got this,” I lied. I had something, all right, but I was most certain it would be defeat and not victory.

  For as the wolf chucked its head back and roared, I could see all of the dead energies playing within its massive gullet. Oh… oh, how terrible. How many ghosts had it absorbed? I’d spent so long helping the dead, exorcising them by going through with their last requests, that I felt this loss greater than others might.

  Perhaps they would think that ghosts were not alive and thus were quite irrelevant. But I felt the shock, horror, and violence.

  I felt it, and I did not have a chance to react, for the wolf leapt forward with anger, viciousness, and a predatory drive I could not begin to match. Just before it could swipe at me with its left paw, it changed direction. Its tail raced over its shoulder. Crackling with fire, it was easily one of the most dangerous things I’d ever seen. But while I could see it, I could not move from its path fast enough. It slashed down into my shoulder. I was thrown back.

  My ears rang tremendously. But far worse than that, I heard Winchester grunting and knew he distracted himself with me at the wrong moment. “Lisbeth—” he began to cry, but the air was knocked from his lungs.

  I could tell it was the most violent move possible, for as I managed to weakly open one eye, I saw Winchester fly over the other side of the street. He smashed headfirst into a thick brick wall then fell back. But his brother wasn’t about to let him go yet.

  Bram waded over, chuckling viciously as if he was having the greatest moment of his life. How… how could somebody descend that far? How could somebody enjoy this? The rest of the city was full of screams. Even if the wolf was now attending to us, that was quite irrelevant. I was most certain I could hear the skeleton guards proliferating through the streets. And I was also certain that the king would be creating more dead practitioners.

  Who could enjoy this? And who could be foolish enough to think that when it was all over, their life would be better? Did Bram not understand that one required stability to rise to the top? Did he not appreciate that when you knocked the knees out from underneath civilization, you did not stand upon it, but you crumpled beside it? For no man can stand on their own. But proving that to Bram might be impossible.

  I also had my own trouble. Just as I tried to rise to my feet, the wolf bounded over. All it took was a single move. It was so very big and so very powerful, I think I could run for half an hour, but it would only take several steps to catch up. That meant there was no way to defeat it, didn’t it? And thoughts like that can be very dangerous things during breakneck fights like this. For they will take away the one thing you need more than anything. The blind belief you can win.

  The wolf reached me. It pinned me with one of its giant paws, and it was not kind. Nor did it apparently understand the importance of the human chest.

  I felt several of my ribs breaking underneath its weight. The cracks were horrendous, the pain that shot through my torso even worse.

  I became woozy. My magic begged me to give up. But I couldn’t even begin to try, for Winchester was doing no better. I could tell that he wanted to fight his brother, but somehow Bram was calling on more power. And, Bram, being Bram, would not leave it at that. I was most certain that a contingent of skeleton guards was on its way. If our situation seemed dire now, very soon, it would be utterly impossible.

  All… all I wanted to do as that woozy sensation gathered in my skull more was turn over and stare at Winchester. I might not be able to reach him, but that was momentarily irrelevant. All I wanted to do was gaze at him and remind myself that, however briefly, we had been together. However briefly, I, perhaps the loneliest woman in all of the kingdom, had found someone to understand me. And more than that, someone to love.

  If you had asked me previously, I would’ve told you love was a waste of time.

  Now I understood its worth. It is not necessarily the act of being loved that is cleansing, but the act of loving.

  And for a heart that had previously been as cold and detached from reality as mine, it had grounded me in a way I had never thought possible. It had pulled my head from the world of the dead into this, the world of the living.

  Very soon, I would lose it, for Bram suddenly rose up, punched his wooden signet ring high, and commanded something. It was only all of those years I had put into the understanding of my craft that helped me see the Ley lines converging over his ring.

  The wolf was not done with me, and it suddenly picked me up in its tail. I was quite limp and incapable of fighting it, but at least I could see what Bram was up to.

  Ley lines converged on his ring. Then, in a blast of power, it created them.

  I did not think it was Bram creating them. It was his connection to the signet ring.

  Perhaps it had some small permanent magical portal that connected it to the king’s signet ring?

  That was not the point. I saw the Ley lines being created, and, in my captive position in the wolf’s tail, I felt how abhorrent this was to Nature.

  For it was Nature itself that rejected them. The air wanted to crush them. The ground wanted to rise up and bury them. Every tool at Nature’s disposal wanted to get rid of them, for it understood they were anathema to life.

  But nothing could.

  “Brother, you have no idea what you’re doing,” Winchester began, but Bram roared.

  He threw his hand out. The signet ring gathered yet more power to itself. Then Bram squeezed his fingers in. Why, you should’ve seen the look in his eyes as he did. Or perhaps you shouldn’t have. Perhaps it would have ruined you as it ruined me. For it threatened to take the last of my hope, burn it up, and throw it into Bram’s ring to power it further.

  But didn’t I need to care about the wolf? It certainly cared about me. As it lifted me high into the air, it cracked its tail from left to right, and the discombobulating effects threatened to break me for good.

  As it squeezed its fiery tail harder around my stomach I… I swore I blacked out a thousand times over.

  My brain broke. My soul broke with it. But somehow, regardless of all of that, a fragment of my attention held on. It tried to push through the distance between me and Winchester and grasp hold of his hand. My left finger even pathetically moved out toward him, but it could do nothing.

  “I’m the greater dead practitioner, Brother,” Bram spat. “You might’ve been born with magic, but that’s irrelevant. I studied. I learned. I strove more than you ever would.”

  “Bram,” Winchester said as he coughed, a little blood leaking out of his lips and splattering over his chin, “how can you say you have studied when you still can’t see? How can you say you have striven when you are still so far away from the ultimate goal? I don’t care what the king has promised you. You must know that he won’t deliver it. You must be able to hear that wolf’s uncontrollable cries. You must be able to understand the dark intention of the skeletons hunting us. You must know that they will not work for you. They serve chaos, and in the end, when you let chaos rise, it will destroy you first.”

  “And yet I’m still the only one standing,” Bram cried. It was quite clear he’d had enough of discussing things. He had gotten one up on his brother. In the most ultimate way possible. And now he would destroy Winchester for good.

  It didn’t matter if he didn’t kill us completely. I was quite certain he would leave us broken enough that the curse would be able to take its toll.

  And I was… quite certain… quite certain I couldn’t let that happen.

  But to prevent something from happening, you must have the power to do so. And power, why it felt so far away from me, it was like a mere thought. You cannot grasp thoughts, can you? You cannot hold them. You cannot fashion them into weapons or shields. And you certainly can’t take them into battle.

  But I needed something. For the wolf turned its angry cry on me again. I saw at least 50 skeleton guards rushing in from behind it, filling the street. I think I even heard people still in their houses. The screams of the elderly and children too.

  So many people were set to lose.

  And it was not fair.

  It had never been fair.

  I don’t know what had ultimately happened to the forbidden grimoire my power had opened. I could tell you this, however. The physical book was irrelevant. Its power had descended into me, for it was the seat the curse sat upon.

  And now, as desperation rose all around me, the curse only clamored louder, believing this was it. It would soon have the power to blast through my defenses. And how violently eager it was.

  My eyes tried to close. I heard Winchester give a rather final gasp. I think I even heard the sound of buildings crumbling throughout the city.

  I imagined if I had been able to connect to the cemetery, perhaps I would’ve heard it crumbling, too. For it seemed certain the end had been reached. But let me tell you this. The end isn’t real. There’s no such thing as a giant full stop on reality. There is only continuity. There is only transformation. And there is only the transition from one state to another.

  My finger twitched.

  I had helped the dead my entire life. I had done it begrudgingly, true. But I had still taken my responsibilities seriously. I could’ve run off into the distance and become a hermit somewhere. Far away from cities, I would’ve been far away from ghosts. No one would ever have called on me. No dead maids would’ve begged me to move their bodies. No ghosts would’ve given me laundry lists of missions.

  But I hadn’t chosen that path.

  And when we choose the path that helps the most, help will never be far from us.

  I heard… I heard someone scream. It was the ghost that Winchester had saved.

  He suddenly burst out of the open door to our left.

  “Fool,” Winchester choked on his words. “You’ve got to flee—”

  “We won’t be running from this city. We didn’t run in life, and we won’t be running in death,” the man promised. He whisked his cap off his head, threw it behind him, and cried out like he was leading an army.

  But there was no like; there was only fact.

  I felt dead energies rushing up from underneath me. From the cracks in the ground, from the pipes in the street, from the very roots of the trees that lined this road.

  Ghosts.

  Ghosts all coming to our aid.

  The wolf was the first to feel it, because it was a vile creature. It fed on ghosts’ souls. Its senses would be going wild, telling it a feast was on its way.

  But as any human knows, a little of a good thing is great. Too much can kill you.

  The first ghost roared up out of a crack in the pavement. And it was none other than Wintersmith himself. He’d somehow changed his clothes. He wore a ceremonial silver robe. Over his shoulder, he held a staff. And behind him, like the most beautiful daisies, ghosts rose. I saw Sarah-Anne and so many I knew.

  Soon, they covered the street.

  “What the devil?” Bram spat. Then he laughed. For he assumed there was nothing the ghosts could do to defend themselves. He was about to learn the truth.

  “After it. Don’t let it go. We’ll tame this wild beast.” Wintersmith threw himself forward. He soon leapt high into the air, so quick on his feet, I was quite certain even a sophisticated magical spell would not be able to track him.

  He cracked his staff against the wolf’s skull. I thought it would be a devastating blow that would render the beast unconscious in a single strike. It was not. But it bamboozled it slightly, distracting it from the fact that more and more ghosts rose through the street.

  “The cemetery,” I choked over my weak words.

  “There ain’t no point protecting the cemetery when the rest of the city is already going to fall. We’ve gathered our army. We’ve got our goal, and we’re going to protect this city, no matter what. Now stop being a weak-willed witch, Lisbeth McQuarrie. Break out of that wolf’s tail. We’ve got a skeleton army to fight.”

  “But you said you’d fight the wolf,” I had the breath to stammer.

  Wintersmith didn’t even pause to look at me. He smoothly turned around on his foot and threw himself away. He actually ran. I knew he had the strength to break this wolf in half, and yet he left it up to me.

  “Impossible. Idiots,” Bram began. But Bram didn’t get the chance to finish.

  Winchester rose to his own defense. And trust me, the important word here was rise.

  He’d been down on his knees, battling Bram’s force. But something snapped in Winchester, something that had been holding him back all of these years. I wondered if he had subconsciously controlled his power, diminishing its force over the decades and reducing its efficacy because he had known he had to keep it hidden. But there is only so long you can stifle true force.

  As Winchester lifted himself to his feet now, real energy broke off him in waves. Perhaps it was at the prospect that the ghosts had come to our assistance. Maybe it was at the fact that I was in dire straits. Or perhaps I didn’t need any of those reasons. All I needed to do was see Winchester in his element. And it called to my own strengths.

  While on paper, there ought to be no way to fight this hellish fiend, I had a history of rewriting rules.