We didn't make it far before Kaelen collapsed again.
His legs gave out as we reached the edge of the Wyrd Caves, and he hit the earth with a sound that didn't belong to the living. I dropped beside him, heart pounding, eyes scanning the treeline for threats wolves, coven spies, Malric.
But the forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
"Kaelen, stay with me," I whispered, cupping his face. His skin was ice. His pulse fluttered weakly beneath my fingertips.
I cursed under my breath and drew the last of my protection powder from my satchel, tracing a rune onto his chest. It glowed briefly, but the light was dimmer than before.
We were running out of time.
Again.
I couldn't carry him anymore. Not like this. Not alone.
So I did the one thing I promised myself I wouldn't do.
I called for help.
Not to the coven.
Not to the pack.
To the in-between.
The spirits of the Wyrd were ancient, older than witches, older than wolves. We were told to never summon them, never speak their names.
But desperation dulls rules.
I sliced my palm open with a silver-edged dagger and let my blood drip into the earth. "Daughters of Dust, Fathers of Shadow, hear me. I come in need, not pride."
The wind answered first.
Then the earth trembled.
And then a whisper, barely a voice, but sharp enough to slice thought.
"What price will you pay for his life?"
I didn't hesitate. "Mine."
The air went still.
Then laughter. Cold. Cruel. Endless.
"Not enough," the voice hissed. "But we will take it... in pieces."
Kaelen gasped.
His eyes flew open. For a second, they glowed brilliant silver, like a full moon made flesh. Then he screamed.
His back arched. The rune on his chest burst with blinding light.
And something left him.
I watched it dark and fast and shapeless shoot into the trees, disappearing before I could move.
He collapsed back, unconscious.
The whisper returned.
"The bond weakens. The price is claimed. Seek the ghost in Ashvale."
Ashvale.
That name tasted like rust.
A ghost town. Burned during the witch trials. No one had returned since. They said it was cursed by both the moon and the flame. That anyone who entered never left the same.
That's where the path led?
Of course it was.
It took two days to reach the outskirts of Ashvale.
I bartered for a cart in the nearest trading village and rode with Kaelen hidden beneath layers of furs and shadow wards. Every mile closer made the air colder, the sky darker, as if the land itself was remembering pain.
By the time we reached the first burnt husk of a home, night had fallen.
Ashvale was exactly as the legends said haunted by silence.
The houses were charred bones. Trees grew through crumbled stone. The ground reeked of ash and something else regret.
I stopped the cart in the town square. What remained of it.
Kaelen stirred as I lowered him down.
"Where... are we?" he croaked.
"Ashvale."
He blinked slowly. "Sounds... cheery."
I almost laughed. Almost.
Instead, I helped him to his feet. "We're looking for a ghost."
"Of course we are."
He leaned on me as we walked past the well, the broken church, the blackened trees. And then
I saw her.
Or rather, felt her.
A presence. Watching. Just beyond the veil of what was real.
The ghost.
"Show yourself," I called, letting power crackle through my voice. "We seek truth."
Silence.
Then
A girl stepped from the shadows.
She looked no older than seventeen, with silver eyes and hair like starlight. She wore a dress scorched at the hem, and her feet left no prints.
"You're not the first to seek me," she said. "But you may be the last."
"Are you the Half-Born?" I asked.
She tilted her head. "Names are dangerous. Truths even more so."
"We don't have time for riddles," Kaelen rasped. "The curse is killing me."
She looked at him then. Really looked. And something passed over her face.
"I know that curse," she whispered. "It killed my father. Tried to kill me."
"Then help us," I said. "Please."
She stepped closer. Her form shimmered. "I'm not whole. Not yet. My spirit is bound to this place. To free me... to get what you need..."
"What?"
"You'll have to die here, Seraphina. Just for a moment."
The words struck like thunder. Kaelen stiffened, trying to rise, but stumbled.
"No. Absolutely not," he growled. "There has to be another way."
The ghost's eyes softened. "There isn't. The veil between life and death is the only place where the curse can be severed. But only if someone steps fully into it... and returns."
My hands trembled. The thought of dying even for a moment was terrifying. Not just for me. For him. For what I might leave behind if I couldn't come back.
"I can guide you," the ghost said. "But the path must be taken willingly."
I looked at Kaelen. His jaw was clenched, eyes glassy with pain.
"I won't let you," he rasped.
"You don't get to let me," I whispered.
"I just found you."
"And you won't lose me," I said. "Not like this. Not when we're this close."
The ghost extended a hand. "Decide quickly. The moon wanes, and with it, your time."
I reached for her.
Her fingers were cold mist.
The last thing I heard was Kaelen shouting my name.
Then the world fell away.