He shrugged. “The glamour stone I was wearing when I died fused with my essence. At least, that’s what my friend Alvud thinks.”

“Alvud Kruge?”

Robyn cocked his head. “Yeah, did you know him?”

I shook my head. “Never met him. I wish I had, though.”

Robyn pulled the hood up again. “He’s cool. He didn’t want to come through the veil on Samhain. He said the living have enough trouble without the Dead haunting them.”

“Is that why you haven’t told Shay you’re here?”

He wrapped his scarf around his face. “I wanted to know he was okay. I didn’t know I’d get stuck here. If the veil lifts, I don’t want to hurt him again by leaving. I came to ask you not to say anything.”

“I won’t, but he feels bad that you were angry with each other when you died. You might think about that.”

His face was unreadable behind the scarf. “I will.” He walked away, his green cloak fluttering in the wind, and faded from view as the snow fell around him.

People failed. It was what people did best. We tried and tried and tried to do the right thing, even when it was the wrong thing to do. I failed. I thought of Vize, and a knot of anger formed in my chest. He believed he was doing the right thing. What he failed to see was that anarchy wasn’t the solution to Maeve or even Donor. The world was a bigger place than the squabbles of two decaying monarchies. Something new had to happen. Maybe that was what Eorla was trying to accomplish. Or maybe she would end up creating another mess. But whether it was Vize or Eorla, or Maeve or Donor, the Wheel of the World would keep turning as It willed.

All of it was one as far as I was concerned.