The saddles had burned in the fire, but Jonathan managed to find a few bridles that were miraculously intact.

Charlotte tugged her skirts down over her knees as she settled on her horse bareback. When she was younger, she used to ride astride all the time, hair flying loose behind her as she galloped along the roads at breakneck speeds. But her magic had warmed her then. She didn't have quite so much of it now and the chilled air on her skin was an unwelcome sensation that sent her curling in on herself.

Although it did feel good to revisit her younger habits, remembering a time when life was simpler and magic was merely a few threads of jinxes and hexes for sport.

Charlotte and Jonathan had barely been riding for an hour before the snow began. Only a few wispy flakes at first, sifting through the thick pine boughs like confectioner's sugar.

Then the snow came down harder in fat, wet clumps that clung to Charlotte's clothes, face, and hair. Though her magic had returned, it was barely there, beating like a fragile mouse's heart, fluttering and tiny. It provided a small bit of warmth but not nearly enough to stave off the frigid wind.

At least it was more than Jonathan had. Charlotte fought down a surge of guilt at the sight of her father riding alongside her, the collar of his shirt hitched up around his ears.

"Papa, take your coat back," Charlotte said, already wriggling out of it. "You'll catch your death in this weather."

Jonathan shook his head. "You need it more than I do."

"I have my magic."

"Hardly."

Charlotte sighed and pulled his coat on again. It was a waste of breath to argue. She had seen the look of unbridled fear on his face when he handed over the wraithstone. She could let him have this small peace of mind, for what it was worth.

Charlotte continually closed her hand over the wraithstone, clutching it tight to remind herself it was still there. She dared to carve away a sliver of witchcraft to serve as a warning and sent it skittering out to the far corners of the earth.

Her sister witches deserved to know what was happening, wherever they were in this wide world. She couldn't provide a detailed explanation—there wasn't enough magic to build a strong connection and communicate with them.

But they knew now that something was amiss. They had targets on their backs. More so than usual. The Endless One would come for them to eliminate any threats that might entrap him as Charlotte had.

"Did you think I would use it for myself?" Jonathan said.

He didn't look at her when he spoke, his head turned away as he scanned the surrounding trees. She couldn't read his expression. The mildness of his tone was all she had to judge his mood.

"Use what?" Charlotte replied, though she had a good idea already what he was talking about.

"Your magic."

She didn't say anything. The snow had piled deep by now and the horses were forced to take a slower pace. She couldn't study him as she wanted to. She couldn't look him in the eye and see if he was serious or not.

"I'm aware of the dangers," Jonathan continued. "After the past few days, I believe my consideration is justified."

Charlotte sighed, fingers plucking at the dark hair of her horse's mane.

"At any other time," she said. "I would explain why that decision could be disastrous."

"But you're not going to?"

"No. You are desperate to protect me, the last remnants of your family. I felt the same way and that gives me no room to correct you. Clearly, the consequences aren't favorable though."

Charlotte shuddered. She had promised herself as she rode into the forest and away from Laeves Keep that she wouldn't look back at the remnants. But she could feel it behind her, a disintegrating, crumbling thing.

"I've often overheard you and your mother discussing the intricacies of witchcraft, especially spellwork," Jonathan said. "I doubt I could manage it. If that makes you feel any better."

Some humans fell under the enchantment of magic long before ever coming in contact with it or deciding to steal it. Jonathan was doing his best to ease her concerns that this wasn't such a case.

"As much as I wish I could take this burden from you," Jonathan said softly. "I know I can't."

"Ever since I was little," Charlotte said. "It seemed I had two options. If my magic controlled me, I would know darkness, pain, grief, destruction. I would bring ruin upon everything I touched.

But when I learned to control my magic instead, I was capable of so much more good in this world than ruin. I could heal. I could protect. I could ease the suffering of those spirits that wandered, restless and uneasy without the peace they required to pass on. It's not a burden, Papa. This is what I've been meant to do all along. If I don't, then...why should I be granted magic at all?"

Jonathan rubbed at his forehead. "When you talk like that, I swear I hear Nivian's voice."

"Is that so bad?"

He smiled. "No. It's not."

Neither of them said anything more until they found themselves on the road. A few days ago, it had been churned to mud, peppered with pine needles, laced with ice crystals. Now it lay beneath a layer of pristine snow.

When Charlotte dismounted, she sank up to her knees in it.

"What do you hope to find?" Jonathan said.

She fiddled with the reins in her hands, searching the untouched snow, the swaying pines. What was she looking for anyway? The Endless One had been trapped here, with a carriage to take him to Suna. Nowhere else. Only this road, and that little village.

"Yulia mentioned an arrangement of some kind with The Endless One," Charlotte said. "He never strayed from his allotted night either."

"Are you thinking a witch did this? Cast some spell over him to prevent him from going anywhere else?"

Charlotte shook her head. "If it was a spell, I would have been able to break it easily. What bound him was strong—a covenant perhaps. Or an oath. Oaths are one of the hardest contracts to sever."

"What does it matter? The agreement is no longer binding."

"Yes. But if we find the origin, we can break the connection he carries to the mortal world. The Endless One still resides in a body that is not his own. And when..."

Charlotte faltered. She dipped her chin, swallowed, and plowed on.

"When Alexander's body decomposes, The Endless One will move on to take William. For all we know, he might not even bother with the Prescott line anymore. As long as that agreement still stands—wherever it might be hidden—The Endless One must borrow a human body to steal the souls he needs to stay alive."

Jonathan nodded. "All right. Dare I ask what an oath looks like?"

Charlotte approached the nearest tree trunk and traced her fingers over the rough bark, sticky with sap, dusted with snowflakes.

"It can take many forms but it must be recorded on something that can last a long time—decades, centuries even. And through any weather, any abuse it might suffer should it be discovered. Check the trees. They're old. They've been here a while. Look for...markings. Paint. Oil. Strange stones. Anything that seems out of the ordinary."

Jonathan took the stretch of trees on the right side of the road while Charlotte examined the trees across from him.

Hour blended into hour until the daylight turned to gray twilight. Snow slithered down the collar of Charlotte's dress, melted against the heat of her skin, and snaked along the length of her spine. Her fingers grew numb and her toes ached from the cold.

How far away from the road should she search? What if it wasn't an oath but something else? She was a spirit witch, taught to communicate with spirits. Not gods. Had The Endless One formed a different sort of agreement that couldn't be traced?

"Charlotte!" Jonathan called.

She turned to see Jonathan far down the road, nearly swallowed by a snow drift. He waved an arm over his head and gestured deeper into the forest.

Charlotte forged her way through the snow, panting hard by the time she reached him.

"There," Jonathan said, pointing through the thick tree trunks. "Do you see it?"

Charlotte squinted. The snowfall had tapered off but not by much and the horizon was mostly whited out. The light was fading, too, and soon they would be in complete darkness.

Then...

The faint outline of a gravestone, tall and gray, was barely visible in the distance.

"A cemetery," Charlotte said.

"Might an oath be housed there? Or...whatever it is we're looking for?"

"It's possible. Some graves are tended for years and kept in good condition. And if the arrangement is small enough, it could go unnoticed."

Jonathan took the bridle of Charlotte's horse and waited as she climbed up. She hesitated as she gathered the reins into her hands and looked down at him. She had doubted herself before during all this but the doubts she felt now threatened to seize her lungs and never let her take another breath again.

"I don't know what to expect if we find this arrangement," she said. "I've broken curses and oaths before but those belonged to spirits. Gods are...different creatures."

Jonathan put a hand on her forearm.

"I hope you're not telling me to stay behind," he said.

"Not exactly," she hedged. "Just informing you that it might be rocky from here on out."

"As if it hasn't been rocky before?"

Charlotte blew out a breath. "Point taken."