The stew was every bit as delicious as I remembered, and after savoring the first bite, I downed an entire bowl in a matter of minutes. Lira sat across from me. The bowl in front of her remained untouched, and I pointed my spoon in her direction.

"Are you not hungry?"

She shrugged, and the bowl squealed as she pushed it across the wooden table. "I think I may have done too much sampling while I was preparing the dish. You should eat it."

A surge of apprehension washed over me, but I hid it with a weak smile as I dipped my spoon into the bowl. Lira's tufted ears flattened against her head. She picked up her utensil, dipped it into the savory brown liquid, and popped the heaping scoop into her mouth.

"Yep. I'm too full for more than that, but it may be my best batch yet."

Sheepishly, I dug into my second helping. If Yoko was here, she would be furious that I hadn't considered the food might be drugged, but honestly, I was more heartbroken that I even had to think about such a thing in my homeland.

Eager to break the suddenly tense silence, I said, "You said your father helped pave this road. Where is he?"

Lira's shoulders drooped. "He died almost twelve moon cycles ago."

"Oh."

Empathy flooded me. I knew what it was like to lose a parent. Both of them. And from the looks of things, Lira had lost both of hers. She was all alone in this world.

"I'm so sorry."

I closed my hand over hers. The bench beneath her scraped over the dirt floor as she pushed it back to stand. She picked up the bowl and took it to a makeshift sink on the counter, keeping her back to me while she pumped water into the bucket.

"You have nothing to apologize for since you didn't know. Some would say it was his fault."

The low elf peered out the window in front of her. The warped glass distorted her reflection, so I could not see her expression, but I could imagine the sorrow that would be there.

"Why would anyone say that?" I exclaimed.

"Because he wandered too close to the Grim. Our crops failed because we had no rain, and the rivers dried up. Everyone knows that the lakes in the Grim stay full no matter the weather because the Kelpies make it so. We were desperate."

"Lira..."

I went to her and reached out a hand. She jerked away, keeping her head down. Poor thing. Was she crying? It looked like it the way her shoulders shook.

"Perhaps I should go now. I'm very thankful for the meal."

"No!"

The girl spun around. Her hand covered her mouth, and her lashes fluttered. Had her eyes always been so dark?

She dragged in a sharp breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted like that. It's just...I've been alone for so long, but I understand. You have friends waiting for you."

Apprehension returned. It was a nagging sense that something wasn't quite right. Perhaps if I had listened to my instincts before, instead of being so filled with self importance, I might have realized the danger we were in when Mafta appeared, but this girl was nothing like the shifter. Sure, she was a little odd, but I might go a little mad myself if I had spent the last twelve moon cycles in this cabin all by myself.

Keeping my hands at my side, I asked, "Have you considered going to Radia? Surely it would be better for you to live there than out here all alone?"

Her ears stood up straight, and she tilted her head to the side. Something, somewhere, hissed. "Is that where your friends are going? To Radia?"

"Yes."

"Has it been a while since you visited the city?"

"Quite a while. I was a child."

"Things have changed much since then."

A shiver went down my spine as her voice changed. No longer girlish, it was reedy and rasping. My inner voice, sounding a lot like Yoko, began shouting at me to leave, but just as I turned toward the door, thunder rumbled. Wind howled and rain pelted the windows and danced along the tin roof.

"Oh dear. You certainly can't travel in this weather."

"No, no, no," I muttered, wrenching open the door and peering into the darkness.

Silver fog slithered over the ground, obscuring the road running in front of the house and ending any hope I had of leaving. A little rain didn't frighten me, nor did lightning. But it was too easy to be lost in a fog like that. Too easy to end up in the Grim.

"You're letting in the cold," Lira said, pushing the door shut. "Come now. I find the best thing to do in such weather is to sleep. You can have my room, and I'll sleep in my father's bed."

Without any other option, I followed her up the set of narrow, rickety wooden steps in the back of the kitchen. Her lantern created more shadows than light, and my eyes tracked them warily as we reached the small loft.

The rooms she referred to hardly qualified as such. The open space was separated by a single sheet hanging from the ceiling. It was odd that she would keep it up when she was the only one here, but perhaps she found comfort in its familiar presence? Maybe, while laying in her bed at night, she could look at it and convince herself, even if just for a moment, that her father was alive and well beyond the material.

"There you go. The bedding is fresh. Is there anything else you need?"

"No. This is more than generous. I cannot thank you enough."

Lira's eyes and teeth gleamed in the shine of lamplight as she smiled. It was not a pleasant thing. "Of course. It's quite nice, really. To have company again. I grow so tired all alone. I have to go downstairs to douse the fire, but I'll go to bed after. Sleep well, Yoko."

She let the sheet fall between us. I could see her moving on the other side, and a few moments later, her footsteps grew fainter as she went back down the stairs. Not at all tired, I paced around the small space, careful to step lightly so as not to alert her below.

Now that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I could make out the simple furnishings without the lantern's light. There was nothing that suggested a young girl lived here, but this far from the city and without a way to earn a living, Lira wouldn't be able to spend money on such frivolous things as trinkets and pretty bedding.

Still, I would have expected to at least see a trunk or two for storage and maybe even a childhood doll. She would likely hold on to something like that to pass down to a child of her own one day. But after a couple loops around the room, I saw nothing beyond the wooden cot and washing stand.

I paused and turned an ear toward the stairs. Beyond the storm's fury, I picked up the clinking of dishes and sloshing of water. It meant I had at least a little time to snoop.

Flicking back the sheet, I stepped into the other side of the room. It was almost identical, except for the stack of boxes under a window and a green wardrobe. The boxes drew my attention first, but it would take longer to look through them.

Fingers curling around the edge of the wardrobe's door, I eased it open. A pungent odor hit me, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Thick fur coats hung on hangers. They were poorly made and without lining–little more than pelts sewn together. My fingers caught on the scratchy inner hide. Just another example of how function was more important than fashion. These were likely the source of the smell.

I raised one to my nose and sniffed. Then frowned. There was hardly any smell on the coat. I pushed it aside and dug further into the wardrobe. It was deeper than it looked. At last, I reached the back. There was something there, but it was too dark to make out.

With a quick glance at the door, I stretched my arm inside and allowed my light to rise to the surface. Just a pinprick glow. But it was enough.

Shrieking, I leapt backward. A large skeleton hung from the last hanger. Likely an older male from the size and shape. Bits of flesh clung to the skull, and a spider had woven a web in the ribs.

"Such a rude guest," Lira hissed behind me, her lips brushing the outer shell of my ear as her fingers clamped down on my arm.

She sank her teeth into the back of my neck, and I screamed, releasing the full power of starlight in my skin. Flesh tore as Lira stumbled back, howling in pain as she tried to spit out my blood.

"This foul magic!" The skin on her chin blistered where my blood dripped down. "It should not be here."

"No wraith," I declared, spinning on my heel and holding up my hands, light pooling in my palms. "You should not be here. How are you beyond the borders of the Grim?"

The wraith squirmed inside of Lira, causing her body to expand until bones snapped. "The borders grow weak. We are free. You cannot contain us again. We will not allow—"

The silver beam of light burned through the wraith's chest, and Lira's body dropped to the floor in a sizzling heap. Gagging on the stench of burning flesh, I stepped over her and ran down the stairs and out the front door.

The fog was gone, and overhead, stars twinkled between the dispersing clouds. Determined, I broke into a run. If one wraith had escaped, others certainly had, and I had to find my friends before they did.