As soon as Charlotte emerged from the crypt, Jonathan was there to greet her, a concerned look in his eyes after she'd run off into the dark with a knife.

"It was an oath," she said. "Just as I suspected."

Jonathan peered past her into the crypt's stairwell.

"And the little ghost girl?"

Charlotte nodded. "She's at peace now. The Endless One—"

She paused and her hand slid into her pocket, fingers toying with the broken bits of stone. She knew his name.

Did she dare to say it? No one spoke it for a reason. It would grant him an increment of power and the thought of giving him even more of an edge was not a favorable one. The odds were already stacked against her.

"The Endless One used the girl's grave to seal his oath, leeching from her like a parasite. She couldn't pass on until the oath was severed."

"Did you break it?" Jonathan said.

Charlotte nodded. "Into a dozen tiny pieces. There won't be any way to put it back together again."

"What I don't understand is Alexander's role in all this. Did he have relatives in Šuná back then?"

Charlotte shook her head. "If he did, his bloodline wouldn't be infected with the curse. He would have been protected, not possessed."

She sighed and rubbed at her temple. Her head still ached and she was starving.

"We'll think it about it on the road," Jonathan said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "For now, let's find an inn where we can spend the rest of the night. We could both use a hot meal and some dry, warm clothes."

Charlotte hesitated, surveying the surrounding forest. Her magic wasn't anywhere near the strength she would like it to be in order to face The Endless One again. But it could take months, even years before that happened and she couldn't wait that long. With every passing minute, he was taking more souls, leaving a trail of empty bodies in his wake.

"No," she said. "Not yet."

"But—"

"He's mortal, Papa," Charlotte said. "All it would take is a stab to the heart and he's done for."

"How can you be certain of that? Before the fire, you said he removed himself from Alexander's body."

"Well, yes, he did. In effect."

"What's stopping him from doing that again? Returning to the basic form of his curse to survive?"

"He doesn't have that freedom anymore," Charlotte said. "Now that the oath doesn't protect him, he can't change hosts. He has only one body at his disposal."

Her voice hitched. It was Alexander's body he owned. Alexander had surrendered to him, welcomed him in.

I don't want to fight it any longer.

How much of Alexander's consciousness was left? Did he feel any pain or remorse? Was he awake when The Endless One used Alexander's body to consume the souls of the living?

Another thought lurked in the back of her mind, whispering, waiting for her acknowledge it. But she refused to and shoved it away.

"When the body he owns," Charlotte pressed on, "is finished, he won't have anywhere else to go."

Jonathan studied her for a moment. "What are you not telling me, Charlotte?"

"I'm not—"

Jonathan raised his eyebrows and she stopped. She fiddled with the sleeves of his coat, plucking at a frayed thread as an excuse to avoid his gaze.

"It's Alexander," she mumbled.

"Do you think he's still alive?"

Charlotte closed her eyes and rubbed at her forehead.

"I don't know," she said. "He might be. But he welcomed The Endless One in. And now...now there may not be a way to separate them."

Jonathan nodded and didn't say anything for several seconds.

"You're saying that when The Endless One takes a soul, so does Alexander?"

"It's possible." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And when I kill The Endless One..."

I'll be killing Alexander, she thought but couldn't say.

Jonathan shifted to face her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"There's no way to know that for sure," he said.

That wasn't true. There was a way. When the deed was already done.

But Charlotte didn't point that out. Her throat was too tight to speak. She didn't trust that her voice wouldn't crack, wouldn't give away how hard she struggled to stay composed.

After coming so far, she couldn't back down. She had known all along this might be the only solution.

"How do we find The Endless One?" Jonathan said, pulling Charlotte's focus back to the task at hand.

"Šuná," she replied. "He'll start there. Elisabeta mentioned an illness that had affected her whole family. But after the oath was forged, no one else became sick. The rest of the village probably benefited from the protection of the oath as well. One night, one soul, and no disease ever again."

"It concerns me how you made that sound logical. But why would The Endless One attack the village that had provided for him for the past few hundred years? Wouldn't he leave them alone?"

"It's his revenge. The people didn't worship him; they were terrified of him. The oath was a necessary evil. But it controlled him. And now that The Endless One has his freedom, he doesn't need Šuná anymore. As a consequence of their lack of devotion to him, he will wipe the entire village out of existence."

"And if he isn't there?" Jonathan said. "What if he moved on already? The world is a massive place, Charlotte. It would be easy for him to disappear."

"He doesn't want to disappear. He wants to be known, to be admired. He has an ego that has been neglected for far too long. If he's not in Šuná, then we can track him."

"How do you propose we do that? I certainly don't have that kind of knowledge."

"He'll leave a trail of empty bodies in his wake."

***

By the time Charlotte and Jonathan reached Šuná, dawn had awakened the sky to a flushed pink, sending shadows scuttling into haven of darkness lingering among the trees.

Less than two dozen squat little cottages were bundled together against the harsh mountain winds and icy winter. The snowy road had been trampled to a pit of half-frozen mud.

And there were bodies. Everywhere.

Men, women, and children, old and young alike, drifted between the cottages, listless and glassy-eyed. None of them wore anything heavier than the wispy thin nightclothes they slept in. The Endless One had taken them by surprise in the night. They didn't even have time to run, not that it would have made a bit of difference in the end.

Jonathan dismounted and took a young girl by the hand. Her bare feet had turned purple from the cold. He coaxed her inside the nearest cottage for a brief respite from the cold.

But as soon as he turned away to fetch another victim from freezing to death, the girl wandered out of the cottage again.

"We can't do anything for them, Papa," Charlotte said.

"The cold—"

"You can spend hours gathering them up, starting a fire to keep them warm, but it won't matter. We have to find The Endless One. He might return their souls."

If it's not too late, she thought.

Reluctantly, Jonathan climbed up onto his horse again.

"It feels wrong to leave them like this," he mumbled.

"I know," Charlotte said.

She trained her gaze on the road and didn't look at any of the faces she passed. Yulia would most likely be among them. It had been hard enough to meet Zevvi's blank stare that day at Laeves Keep. To see so many blank stares at once made her heart twist in her chest.

Then, as one, every person in the village raised their heads and turned to face north.

Charlotte pulled her horse to a stop in surprise.

"What are they doing?" Jonathan said.

A whisper began, bubbling low through the village. It swirled around them, nearly inaudible with the wind rushing through the pines overhead.

But it grew. It grew and grew, picked up by voice after voice until every person in Šuná was speaking it. Two words. Over and over. Soft with horror.

He's here.

Ribbons of shadows burst through the trees, writhing and clawing. More shadows snaked in and out of the cottages, threading between the people of Šuná, never touching them, never swallowing them up.

Charlotte flung her arm out towards Jonathan but it was too late.

The darkness washed over him. He leaned so far back that he nearly fell off of his horse, his eyes wide and unblinking. His throat worked as if swallowing repeatedly.

Charlotte knew what was coming, what was about to happen. But nothing could prepare her for the sight itself.

Jonathan's soul tore out of his mouth in the form of a pale blue moth. Its wings beat at a frantic, desperate rate, struggling against the shadows that ensnared it.

From the ocean of black pooling around Charlotte, came a voice.

"I should have known you wouldn't burn."