Sail

Past the edge of the marketplace, my boots crunched over snow on a wooded path that would lead me toward my dorm and safety two miles away. If I could get there, I could figure out what to do next. Whatever I decided to do, it would have to be quick since I’d left a crowd of witnesses back there. Too many eyes would see if I cut through the rest of the marketplace and took the public train to the dorm. The fewer people who saw me, the better.

The crash of adrenaline through my blood and my pounding footsteps drowned out all other sound as I sprinted through the snow.

Which was why I didn’t sense someone following me.

My head wrenched backward with an ugly tearing sound, yanking me to a stop and spinning me around. Pain ripped through my scalp.

The guy in the neighboring booth, not the vendor I’d stolen from, stood behind me, holding a handful of my chains and hair he’d torn clean from my scalp. It swung with the gusting wind, and one end dripped blood in a spray of red in the snow.

Warmth slid down the side of my face and gathered in the cleft of my collar bone. Nausea kicked into my stomach at the bursts of agony all over the top of my head. He must’ve torn out at least twenty chains along with chunks of hair.

His eyes morphed from muddy brown to a vibrant green, turning me into petrified stone. A low growl rumbled. It could’ve been an approaching lightning storm. Or it could’ve come from him.

Sticky wetness streamed down the side of my breast and into my corset. I flicked my gaze between the bleeding chains in his hand and his bright eyes, suddenly unsure if I was trapped in some kind of nightmare.

The pain in my head and heart sharpened my senses. I needed to move. Ellison needed me. I felt those truths slither deep into my bones with every shiver that racked through my body.

“He can have his fucking washers back,” I said and threw the box at him. But the man holding my chains continued eyeing me like he wanted to devour my flesh sans napkin. The box lay at his feet surrounded by my blood.

I took a couple slow steps back, but he matched me move for move. Over his shoulder and behind the marketplace, a bolt of lightning stretched thorny fingers to the ground, eliciting a collective gasp and a scramble for cover from the people still there. Even if I shouted for help, no one would hear me above the howling wind.

The hair along my arms lifted, and I became hyper-aware that I was covered in metal during a lightning snow storm. The man blocked my way back into the marketplace, but I couldn’t stand there and bleed all over the place while waiting for him to kill me either.

“I gave them back. What else do you want from me?” I yelled.

In another flash of light, the man’s face glowed pale. He tucked his chin into his chest so his forehead hooded his bright green gaze, and he widened his stance like he was about to charge. Thick cords of drool trailed from both sides of his mouth.

My stomach lurched. I had no idea what was wrong with this guy, but I needed to move. Now. I sprinted across the snowy path that led to the wooded area. Footsteps pounded after me.

“They weren’t even in your vendor booth,” I screamed, but the wind and cutting snow stole my breath.

Almost to the cover of the trees. His footsteps thudded right behind me. The smell of ozone thickened, and the air sizzled with electricity between the heavy snowflakes. Something cracked loudly behind me as I lunged into the woods.

Branches tugged at my chains and arms. I tried to jump out of their way, but they leaped out of the dark and through the blanket of falling snow. One dragged across my cheek with a harsh sting, and blood trickled out over the caked mess from my ripped chains.

The man behind me snarled so loud, it quivered my insides to jelly. I pressed my fingers to the growing pain in my side and darted through the trees first to the right then cut to the left. All those hours of sitting while studying weren’t helping me now.

Rumbling clouds blocked the moon, and the only thing that lit my way was the bright white snow. It crunched under my feet, and even if I did somehow lose him, my loud, hurried footsteps would lead him back to me.

My breaths came too fast. The cold drained all my energy with every burning inhale. I had to do something. Think.

Lightning zigzagged over the tops of the trees, spotlighting a rapier fir directly in front of me with sharp, thin branches jutting from its trunk. A vague idea quickly outlined itself in my head, and I faked like I was going to run right into the tree, but at the last second, I skirted to the side. The toe of my shoe snagged on a root. I wind milled my arms to catch my balance but crashed to the ground anyway.

The little amount of air left in my lungs whooshed out. I pulled in a deep breath then struggled to my feet, but something squeezed around my ankle.

“No!” I tried to kick but my ankle twisted. Pain shot up my leg, and I cried out. Icy cold bit into my fingers as I curled them into the snow to drag myself across the ground as far as I could. But the rush of my heartbeat was the only sound. The heavy pursuit of footsteps had stopped. Swallowing hard, I dared a glance over my shoulder.

The man stood perfectly still in front of the tree, except his hands which twitched at his sides. One of the thin branches had caught him through the eye. Another pierced through his stomach and out his back. Blood gushed from his wounds, streaking his face, striping his tunic a darker brown, and over his shoes to soak puddles into the snow.

I shrank back with a gasp. The rapier fir was notorious for killing unsuspecting campers who ran into its sharply pointed branches. I’d just never seen it happen before.

His hands stilled. Was he dead? If I hadn’t lunged to the side of the tree, he’d still be chasing me, and who knew what he would’ve done if he’d caught me? I had to escape him somehow, didn’t I? Even though I knew it was true, guilt still gnawed a hole through my chest. Why had he been chasing me anyway?

I tore my gaze away from him and worked at setting myself free. My foot had lodged under a curved root, so I shifted around so my back faced the man, trying to find a good angle to pull my leg out. It wouldn’t budge. If anything, I seemed to be making it worse. Cold seeped into the butt of my pants and spread iced tendrils down to my toes. I shivered.

Something crashed behind me, and I whirled around. The man lay on his back. Long, black fog-like fingers reached out of his mouth.

I moaned. Terror burst through my body. I’d never seen it happen before. Please Feozva, I couldn’t see it happen. I yanked at my foot as hard as I could and risked another glance.

The fingers curled over his lips and opened his mouth wider.

A scream welled in my throat. I pulled harder. Please, Feozva, please. I couldn’t. I couldn’t see it.

Yet I couldn’t look away from the nightmare either. The fingers stretched upwards, and behind them, a human form rolled up from the man’s mouth in smoky wisps to full height, a warped replica of the man who lay dead. It pinned me under inky black eyes and the angry twist of its lips. Its dreadful, piercing scream swept goose bumps all over my body. Deep trembles shook through me so hard, I choked down the iron in my mouth.

Without it, the ghost would kill me. The iron had to stay perched on my tongue or the ghost would try to force its way inside me. Move. I scrambled for my pockets with shaking hands. Two of Pop’s nails spilled out onto the snow. I shoved both into my mouth and forced my whimpers back down my throat.

It was right behind me. I felt it in the familiar prickle of my scalp, the tingling between my shoulder blades. The man’s ghost was stuck here. Now the only way to the other side was through the nearest ghost magnet.

Me.