Promises to Keep

lamenting the loss of his usual weapon.

“Once we get to Midnight proper,” Brina said as she led the way up the old road, “there is another path, traveling nearly due east, that should take us into Shantel land. Then it is simply a matter of—”

Blackness.

Pain.

Jay opened his eyes to find himself sprawled in the snow, with Brina kneeling next to him. Xeke looked concerned, but Rikai’s face simply held contempt.

Flames, like the fires of hell. Flesh scalding—

“Guard your mind,” Rikai suggested belatedly.

Jay turned his head, trying to see the mind he could feel so clearly. Brina gripped his hand, crushing his fingers, and he knew she saw it too: a semitransparent shape, almost humanoid, but—

“Ghosts, nothing more,” Rikai said. “Unless you invite them into your brain, they are harmless.”

What most people called ghosts were just impressions left behind by strong emotions. Jay had encountered them before, but never this powerfully. The pain this ghost was radiating was beyond Jay’s comprehension. It made his bones ache as he forced himself to stand and keep moving.

The farther they traveled up the road, the thicker the impressions became.

When Jay was a boy, his history lessons had included stories of Midnight. As for its fall, that had been described in simple terms: on September 22, 1804, Midnight burned to the ground. No one knew who was responsible, though everyone had celebrated the destruction, which had been so complete that the slave trainers had not been able to gather their power fast enough to re-subjugate the witches and shapeshifters before they could raise arms to defend themselves.

Those lessons were made real in the early twilight as the forest spat them onto the carcass of what had once been an empire’s terrible heart.

Nature should have taken over in the last two centuries, but it hadn’t been allowed. Magic had salted the ground in this clearing, leaving it a dead zone inhabited by nothing more than what might have once been stone— now twisted and melted as if torn from a volcano—and the ghostly impressions of those who had once lived in this place. Sheets of ice, gritty and black from ash, ringed the area, but the ruins themselves glowed hot like coals under the darkening sky.

Jay could hear the memories wail in fury, and pain, and helplessness, and—more than anything else— confusion. Why? they asked.

Rikai crept close, even though that meant crawling on the ice, until she could hold her hands above the glistening coals and say in a voice that sounded half hypnotized, “They say every major power in the world was involved in bringing Midnight down. They poured their magic into this spot. I can feel them.…”

“Jay, I do not wish to camp here for the night,” Brina said, her voice seeming oh-so-distant as Jay struggled not to hear the screams of the dead.

“Agreed,” Xeke said.

Lynx hissed, and Jay realized that he couldn’t hear his longtime companion over all the other voices pressing against him. Brina reached down and stroked Lynx between the ears, while looking up at Jay with concern.

“East, you said?” he asked her. Was he shouting?

She nodded, and caught his shoulders to physically turn him until his back was to the setting sun. They all wanted to get as far away as possible.

Almost all.

“Rikai?”

“Come here!” Rikai called, her voice breathy. “This is incredible. I think—”

Jay heard Xeke trying to reason with the Triste, but he didn’t wait for her response. He needed to get away from this place. The others would have to catch up.

CHAPTER 23

THE MEMORY OF blood and fire pressed in around Brina as she ran from Midnight and every gruesome recollection the sight had brought to mind. She followed Jay, who led them at a frantic pace well past sunset, until clouds obscured any hint of stars or the nearly full moon and it was too dark to see one foot in front of the other.

Preparing food and setting up their camp in the inky black was challenging, as was trying to find enough privacy to take care of awkward human bodily functions without becoming totally lost. She was grateful that Lynx stayed near, sweetly compassionate in the way he called to her in the darkness when she strayed the wrong way.

Though they made camp late, they started early the next morning. Brina struggled to keep up with Jay’s pace, refusing to be the weak member of their party. Exequias and Rikai lumbered behind her, and she kept her eyes firmly on the wide-eyed witch. Eventually, it was Lynx who set teeth into Jay’s calf with a snarl.

Jay jerked his head up as if from a trance, and looked around at his exhausted companions. “Sorry,” he said. “I keep feeling …” He trailed off, and shivered. “I think it’s the same magic that tried to hide the road from me.”

“I’m no expert at magic,” Exequias said, “but doesn’t it take power to maintain something like this? What kind of spell is still this strong two hundred years later?”

“The kind of spells Midnight would buy,” Rikai answered, shouldering past them at a slower but no less inexorable pace. The rest of them fell in line behind her, Jay’s steps tense, as if he were still fighting the instinct to run. “They were first crafted through sacrifice. When Midnight was attacked, the spells were fed with slaughter, and enough magic to leave stone smoldering for centuries.”

“You mean the spells got stronger after the attack?” Brina asked. She had no magical expertise personally, but she knew some of the witches who had supported Midnight. Black was not a dark enough word to describe some of their rituals.

“More than that,” Rikai answered. “I think it’s no coincidence that the civilizations who lent their power to this attack have all fallen into decline since. Before that attack, even Midnight feared the Shantel, the Azteka, and the shm’Ahnmik. They were worth fearing. Now they’re so insignificant that many consider them myths. The wreckage their actions left behind has been like an open wound that any parasite could use. I doubt Midnight’s defense spells were the only opportunistic leeches who noticed.” With a glance back and an unsettling smile, she added, “I know that I certainly intend to return, once other matters are—”

She broke off, going still. Brina moved up beside her and realized what had made the witch stop: the road was gone.

Looking back revealed more of the same. Without warning, they were in the middle of pristine wilderness.

“How did we lose the path?” Jay asked, looking around.

“We must have crossed into Shantel territory,” Brina replied. “There are no paths here.” She had never traveled through Shantel land, but she had heard stories from others who had. Once within the forest’s magical snare, no compass or map could save you.

“But we were just on a path,” Jay protested.

“And now we’re not,” Rikai snapped. “The Shantel were masters of illusion. Jay, what do you sense?”

Jay closed his eyes. “Power,” he answered. “It has a feline flavor. I can’t sense where it’s coming from.”

“Let me see if I can pierce a hole in this veil,” Rikai said, and she folded her legs to sit cross-legged on the ground. From her pack, she pulled what looked like a long silver chain. As she made a circle in the snow around her, the metal glowed so white-hot that Brina had to look away from its glare.

Brina paced a little, and opened a water bottle to take a few careful sips. Her throat was sore from panting as she’d struggled to keep up with Jay’s near-run, and her legs felt stiff and tingly. If she sat down, she doubted