“Fight back, Jerry, just don’t kill us all,” I yelled, clamping down harder on Thane’s spirit box.

“You brought a Berserker up here?” Jerry asked in disbelief over the din, his booming voice seeming small in comparison.

A magical red whip elongated from Thane’s hand.

“Get back. Everyone get back!” I pushed Donovan behind me as I backed up. The others filed out onto the ledge.

“Lost another cadaver,” Donovan said.

I ignored him. Animated cadavers wouldn’t do a damn thing against Thane.

“Calm down, Thane,” I yelled as he picked up a rock and smashed it against another.

“Should I loose the rest of the rocks?” Jerry yelled.

“No. I can handle this.” I ripped into Thane’s chest as he picked up another rock. This time he did aim, although luckily not at me. “Incoming, Jerry!”

Thane threw it with such speed that Jerry could barely catch it with his magic. The rock stopped inches from his face, and even from a distance, I could see his eyes grow as big as saucers. Thane roared again and turned, his whip cracking out, his manic, red-eyed stare fixed on me.

“Donovan,” I yelled, stabbing into Thane’s chest with my magic, ripping and tearing, trying to bring him to heal. “Keep that whip off me.”

I pushed forward so Donovan could step in. The magical whip buzzed as it flew out, cracking right by my head.

“Keep it off me!” I screamed.

Terror eating me alive, I reached into Thane’s chest and grabbed one of the prongs that docked his soul in place. With effort, I applied spirit and then power before crumbling it into dust.

The roar that shook my bones held equal parts pain and fear, an animal giving in to basic, primal injuries. I struck harder now. Faster.

His whip slashed out.

I didn’t react, trusting Donovan to protect me, knowing that if I relented in my attack, I’d have to start all over, seconds and minutes I didn’t have.

The whip stopped inches from my face. Donovan grunted behind me with the strain of holding it back.

Thane took a grudging step forward, against my battering him from the inside.

“Kill him,” Jerry yelled. A rock the size of a sink slammed into Thane’s back. Thane didn’t turn around, clearly recognizing I was the real threat.

“I will not kill him.” I reached in and crumbled another prong. If I destroyed any more of them, his soul might come loose during his transformation back into his normal form. “He will come back from this. Come on, Thane. Fight your way back to the surface. Regain control.”

The whip cracked out. The tip sliced my arm before Donovan could push it away. I gritted my teeth against the pain, still working.

Bria darted in around me. The whip cracked again, but she dodged it, lithe and graceful. She slid under Thane’s leg, popped up, and stabbed down.

“Metal doesn’t pierce this form,” I said, having learned that from our first encounter.

“It isn’t metal; it’s a slab of rock with a wicked point.” Bria ducked a swing aimed at her head, Thane turning around clumsily in the small (for him) space. She crawled through his legs, barely dodging a kick, and used both hands to stab his humungous calf.

I wasted no time, knowing she was doing this solely as a distraction. Doubling down on my efforts, I applied pressure on another prong while repeatedly slicing through his soul box with as much power as I could muster. Over and over I kept at it, ignoring Thane’s tortured roars and the flying rocks, propelled not by Donovan or Jerry, who was huddled in the corner, but by the Berserker himself. He was smashing and slamming and kicking anything within reach. One sped toward my chest, big enough and fast enough to crush my ribs. Donovan grunted and the rock stopped, inches from me. I couldn’t help but flinch.

“Hurry, Lexi,” Donovan said, his voice pained. “I’m running out of steam.”

5

Alexis

By the time Thane dropped down to a knee, sweat was pouring off me, my limbs trembling from the effort. He shook his mangy head and groaned as his form reduced, slowly at first and then all at once. He lay down in human form, dirty from smashed rock dust, bloody from stab wounds and boulder battering, and clearly spent.

“Why couldn’t you have just chatted like a normal guy, Jerry?” Thane said, using Bria’s accusatory tone from earlier, looking up at the sky. His chest heaved.

“Yeah, Jerry, why do you always have to make things difficult?” Donovan added, leaning his forearm against the cracked wall in the small tunnel. “I’m going to be really put out if, after all this, we still die on this godforsaken mountain.”

I made my way through the rocks, catching a glimpse of all the spirits sitting with Harding up on the first shelf. The woman in the purple dress sat next to him, and they were holding hands, but I doubted Jerry would want to know about that.

“Show’s over, Jerry,” I said as he straightened slowly with wide eyes. “Time to chat. Do you have water or anything? I’m parched.”

He curled his fingers around the hilt of the knife in his shoulder and, without flinching, yanked it out. No blood gushed down his front—it only left a splotch around the actual wound. The knife clattered across the ground as he turned, jerking his head to indicate we should follow him into his cave.

A while later, we all sat in the main sitting room of what looked to be a collection of giant-made caves. The walls and ceilings had the same polished-looking surfaces as the tunnels and Death Alley, and at the end of the living room was a little forked hallway leading to two other areas we hadn’t entered.

The condition of the place proved John and I had very different definitions of “homey.” Sparse and dirty, the living room didn’t have much to offer beyond a single decrepit armchair on a grime-filled rug. The main attraction was staring out into Death Alley. The seat barely even had a view, with the small opening on the other side blocking most of the grandeur of the valley floor below.

Jerry sat in his chair with the rest of us on the ground, fanned out around him like children. We were too tired to care. I could feel Kieran winding ever closer, probably out of his skin with fear and worry. Without any cell phone coverage up here, the only thing I could do was pump soothing feelings through our connection.

The spirit of Jerry’s fiancée stood next to his chair, her eyes rooted to him. It was clear she really missed him, and that they’d had a great love. It was such a shame they’d been torn apart so brutally.

“You really can see her,” Jerry started, leaning forward so he could stare me in the face.

“Yes. I’m a Spirit Walker. That’s my jam.”

“She said that to me all the time when we were together. ‘Wait, my knight. We must not haste today, for we’ll have nothing to occupy us tomorrow.’” His smile was sad. A sheen came over his eyes. “She had plant magic. A Chloromane. She had a talent for creating these fantastic natural scenes. Each little corner had something different. Something for every mood. She helped me take life slower. Enjoy myself more. Quell the rage that springs up out of nowhere. She was my light in a dark world. I lost all sanity when she was taken from me.”