The angry ghost dived at the empty body. Its form vanished inside his flesh. The body twitched, then shook. Finally it sat up, each eye blinking separately as it looked around.
Lefevre’s spirit shivered in the air. He shrieked. I could feel his rage at the ghost child who’d stolen his body. I pressed myself closer to Les. He gripped my hand.
Lefevre’s body rose to its feet and staggered around. It would never find coordination. It would never find speech or emotion or anything that had once made it human. It was nothing more than a shadow puppet. The ghost could not regain the life it once had, no matter how many bodies it stole from the living.
Lefevre flew at his body, trying to pull the ghost out, but he wasn’t as strong as the child. It pushed him away, sending him floating toward us. His eyes widened in rage.
“You’ve done this to me!” he screamed, his voice an echo in the quiet night. Les twitched beside me. Soon Lefevre would lose all ability to speak.
I shook my head. “No. You’ve brought this on yourself.”
He roared. I held my sword before me, sure he would come for us, would try to steal our bodies as the ghost child had done to him.
To the east, a shaft of light crept over the roof of a building, illuminating the dark street. The sun had risen.
Ghost Lefevre vanished, leaving us safe once more.
Les breathed heavily beside me. My heart beat rapidly.
We pushed away from the wall, regaining our composure. The fake Lefevre stumbled around the street as it tried to gain balance, Lefevre’s body shielding the ghost child from the sunlight. Undiscovered, it would stumble around like this for a few days until it would abandon Lefevre’s body in search of a new one. But we were in the city. Authorities would find Lefevre’s inhabited body and burn it outside the walls of the city, releasing the ghost to the dead plains.
“What should we do about that?” Les pointed at it.
I remembered the ghost child’s face before it had attacked, how sad it had seemed. How unfair for one so young to spend eternity raging at the world. Surely it deserved a chance at peace, at a new life.
I walked over to Lefevre’s body.
“What are you doing?” Les asked.
“Following a hunch.” I pulled a Saldana coin from my pouch. I thought of Safraella in the fog of that dead place and Her kiss on my forehead—the pain and incredible heat. I remembered the coin burning in my mouth when Safraella had brought me back, remembered slipping it into Les’s mouth and the breath that returned to him. The ghosts were wayward children, She’d said. Only those in Her favor could send them on their way.
The coin began to warm in my hand.
I reached false Lefevre and he faced me. His head sagged on his shoulders as he tried to control his neck. I touched his shoulder. He stilled, his eyes widening as he watched me.
“Be at peace,” I said to false Lefevre. I pushed the coin into his mouth.
The ghost was ejected from the flesh. It reached out a hand, then dissipated in an explosion of mist.
Lefevre’s body fell to the street.
“Did you clip it?” Les asked quietly.
“Yes.” It would no longer be an angry ghost. I had sent it to meet Safraella in Her boneyard, to face Her judgment and be given a new life.
Les eyed me. I knew he was coming to terms with something. “Your conversation with Safraella must have gone much differently than mine.”
I sheathed my sword and squatted beside Lefevre’s body, searching through his pockets.
“Is this really a good time to rob the dead?” Les asked.
“I’m not robbing him.” I pulled out the Saldana stamped coin he’d taken from the dead boy’s body all those nights ago. “I’m taking back what’s mine. Now let’s get out of here before the decent lawmen stumble upon us with his body.”
We climbed to the roofs and made our way to my safe house to prepare for the journey to Lovero.
thirty-six
ANARCHY GREETED US AT THE SOUTH GATE. CLOAKS hid our leathers, packs, and satchels stuffed with all the supplies we could carry, including the makings for the firebomb that we’d assemble later. Our masks were tucked away safely until we reached the dead plains. We’d expected to buy some horses and simply ride out of the city—now that the Da Vias had taken Marcello and fled home under the assumption they’d killed Les and me—but the gate was blocked with people milling around and lawmen interrogating the crowd. I stepped into a shadow, and Les followed.
“What’s going on?” I searched the crowd for any clue to the uproar. People seemed to be gathered in groups, gossiping.
Les shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
An old man shuffled past, and I placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned his rheumy eyes to me.
“Excuse me, grandfather. What is the trouble? What is happening?”
He smiled a gap-toothed grin, pleased to be addressed. “Someone left the gates open, that’s what!” he exclaimed. “Ghosts just walked into the city. Lots of people met their ends last night at their hands.”