A fresh trickle of doubt dripped in the back of my mind. If Linus was his vessel, wouldn’t he know that too? The way he seemed to know everything else about me?
The dybbuk crossed to us and placed his hands against the invisible boundary that protected Oscar, and gave it a shove. “Impressive.”
“Glad you like it.” Now that I’d bought us a few seconds, I pulled ink and a brush from my pack and knelt at Oscar’s feet. For some applications, you couldn’t beat traditional. I dusted the area beneath him as clean as it was going to get then went old school on the circular ward I painted over the warped boards. “Walk away now, and I’ll ask my friend to make you one too.”
For the span of a blink, he looked tempted, but then it was gone. “I’m afraid I must decline.”
“Stay put,” I warned Oscar. “No matter what happens, don’t move from that circle.”
“All right.” His wide eyes tightened at the corners. “I can do this.”
“Yeah, you can.” I stood and faced Ambrose, who appeared too preoccupied with the problem of the ghost in a warding circle to pay much attention to me. Good thing too, as my current plan involved sprinting from the room, down the stairs, and across the docks until I caught the attention of the Elite.
I waited until his back was facing me, his absorption in Oscar complete, and then I ran.
Wild laughter trailed me, and footsteps pounded behind me. Ambrose was fast. But I was desperate.
I hit the first deck, leapt a roll of carpet and dodged a stack of boards. I made a beeline for the gangway, took that first step over water, then wiry arms closed around my middle and snatched me off my feet.
Fiddlesticks.
“Forgot about the water, did we?” He chuckled in my ear. “You are so forgetful, aren’t you? It’s rather charming, actually.”
“Bite me.”
“I’m not that flavor of undead.” He shook his head, the heat from his hair singeing the peach fuzz on my cheek. “How is it you’re allowed to wander about without a keeper?” He hauled me back onto the boat. “Ah, that’s right. Your wraith. Not much good all the way over there, is it?”
The dybbuk had a point. “What are you going to do with me?”
“That depends on you.” He shackled my wrists and started frog-marching me back up the stairs. “First, you’re going to convince your friend Oscar to step outside his wards, and then you’re going to rub off the sigils you painted on his hand.”
“I won’t help you,” I snarled, thrashing in his hold. “He’s just a kid. Let him go.”
“He’s just a source of nourishment.” We reached the landing, and he paused there, out of Oscar’s sight. “Either you convince him to sacrifice himself, or I bleed you until he offers himself to save you. No matter how this night ends, Oscar ends with it. You have about five steps to make your decision before I make it for you.”
We took the five steps. My answer didn’t change. Neither did his mind.
Ambrose curved his fingers around my throat, and each one bit into my skin with the eagerness of a honed blade. Warm blood slid down my neck to saturate my top. Struggle would have sawed off my head, so I held still, barely daring to breathe, and prayed Oscar held tight to his self-preservation streak.
“Surrender, Oscar, and I won’t hurt her.” Ambrose forced me into the room ahead of him. “Grier is your friend, isn’t she?”
Oscar’s knees gave out, and he dropped onto the floor. “D-don’t hurt her.”
“You can stop this at any time,” Ambrose soothed. “Come to me, and I let her go. A life for a life.”
“No,” I managed before his hand tightened, and fresh warmth eased down my chest.
“I told you,” Oscar said, a lost boy who had lost hope. “I told you he was coming for me.”
The black streaks raining down his cheeks broke something in me, and I used the only move Taz had taught me that might help in this situation. I brought up my knee and stomped his insole with everything in me. When he hissed and loosened his grip, I broke free, skin tearing, and ran to Oscar.
“Stay.” More words wanted to come out, but my throat wasn’t working right anymore. “Stay.”
Boaz would come. He must have seen me. The Elite had been staking out the Cora Ann for days. All I had to do was hold on a little longer, and then— I screamed as one of Ambrose’s elongated fingers pierced my side, skewering me on his curving nail.
“I swore I wouldn’t do this, but here I am, forced to break my vow.” Ambrose yanked me closer, ripping open the tender skin above my hip. “My vessel will not be pleased, let me tell you. You’re making both our lives far more difficult than they have to be. This is one child. Let him go.”
“You…won’t…stop,” I gasped as his finger twisted clockwise. “You’ll never…stop.”
Vicious mirth unspooled in his laughter. “How well you know me. It’s almost like we’re friends.”
I was out of words and out of time. Out of air and blood too if the spinning room was any indication.
A radiant blast of searing agony spooked my hindbrain into retreating down the warren I had created during my time in Atramentous. I was safe there, apart from my body, separate from the pain, curled up in the back corner of my mind where no one could find me. I was in the process of slamming the door shut on my heels when a shout echoed across the distance. I hesitated, hands on the locks, and listened.
“Grier.”
The voice sounded so familiar, but it came from too far away to be sure.
“Wake up. Grier. Wake up.”
The name it called rang a bell. Grier. I had no name here but…
“Please, Grier,” he begged, and it was a man’s voice. “Wake up.”
I lingered in the doorway, torn between safety and reality, uncertain which way to turn.
“I can’t do this without you,” he said. “Help me, or Oscar will die. You’ll die.”
Oscar. The boy. The ghost aboard the Cora Ann. Oh, no. Oscar.
I slammed back into my body so hard I seized in Linus’s arms.
“Shh.” He cradled me gently until the worst of the shakes passed. “You’re all right. I’ve got you.”
“Linus,” I rasped. “I thought…”
“I know what you thought.” His fingers traced a cool line across my cheek, probing for injuries. “I should have told you the truth, but I wanted to see if…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. You must help me contain the dybbuk.”
Pain hammered at me until my bones felt poised to shatter. “My side…”
“You were out for a solid minute.” He eased me upright. “I’ve staunched the bleeding in your throat and side, but you must help me. I set a containment ward. Ambrose tripped it when he got too close to Oscar. You have to help me reinforce it. This magic requires two casters.”
Focus was impossible when it felt like my head was hula hooping. “What?”
Linus cradled my face between his palms, the cold like diving into icy waters. “Help me.”
“Okay.” I shut my eyes and tested what hurt most. “I can do this.”
“How dare you,” Ambrose thundered. “I was summoned.”
“Where is my ink?” I winced as Linus braced his shoulder under my arm and guided me to my feet. Together, we limped to the wards set into the floor precious inches from Oscar, where Linus lowered me onto my knees. “Brush?”
“Here.” He pressed my brush and ink bottle into my hand. “Copy my sigils exactly. One mistake, and he’ll shatter the ward.”
“No pressure,” I panted, getting into position.
“Your wards won’t hold me, Eidolon.” Ambrose paced, a caged tiger, his cruel fingers clashing against air as he hacked at the wards. “Release me now, or feel my wrath.”
“Eidolon,” I echoed. “Which of us is he name-calling?”
“Me, I’m afraid.” He forced his gaze from me with visible effort and began. “There’s a stigma to bonding with wraiths, even among shades. Perhaps especially among them since they must barter for their hosts while wraiths are free to bond as they will.”