"You fools!" someone shrieked.

The unexpected cry startled both of them and each missed their blow. Even through the smoke and fire, Magiere clearly saw a horrible visage that disrupted her bloodlust.

Floating over Teesha's head was the ghost of a nearly beheaded man, his long yellow hair hanging from his tilted head. Magiere had thought nothing could shock her anymore, but even in her rage the bright hues of his open throat pulled her attention, flames flickering through his transparent body.

"You fools!" he repeated. His face exuded all the rage and venom she'd expected in Rashed's.

"Get away, Edwan," Rashed shouted over the fire. "Vengeance is beyond you."

"Vengeance?" the ghost answered in disbelief. "You murdered her. You and your pride. Can't either of you see what's happening? Did either of you want this?" He drifted down to kneel near Teesha's severed head, his face weeping, but without tears. "You slew my Teesha."

Magiere stumbled once. Nothing made sense. No action seemed correct. The heat inside her began to fade and, instead, she felt the bright flames around searing her flesh. Her leather armor smoldered in several places.

When she looked back to Rashed, she saw the tavern stairs behind him and realized they had maneuvered completely around each other. Her back was now to the opening in the front wall where he'd crashed through moments earlier.

Magiere backed up hesitantly.

"No!" Rashed shouted, flames reflecting off his hard crystal eyes.

An ear-splitting crack sounded overhead. Magiere's gaze turned up briefly. The upper floor began.to give way. The desire to survive won out.

She turned and dove through the jagged opening in the wall, shielding her face with one arm. Fresh air from the open street flooded inside her as she rolled once across the ground and came up to look back into the flames.

A heavy beam wider than his chest pinned Rashed to the floor, and he lay completely engulfed in flames, fighting to get up. His thrashing limbs were like waving branches of fire. Over the blaze's roar, she couldn't hear anything, and wondered if he was screaming.

The beheaded figure flitted about the room, in and out of the flames devouring Rashed. The ghost appeared to be laughing.

Magiere staggered back a few paces more and sank to the ground. She watched Rashed's writhing, burning form until he stopped moving. Then the entire upstairs floor caved in. Sparks flew like a thousand fireflies into the night air.

Aside from all the methods she had learned from villagers' folklore and legends, she thought burning an undead's body completely to ash was as good as any other way to destroy it.

Where was her earthen jar to trap his spirit now? Where were the peasants to sigh in relief? How brave, how very brave she was to have leaped away and watched her enemy become trapped under a flaming crossbeam. The topaz amulet around her neck glowed steadily.

A light brighter than the flames flashed beside her and the horrible visage of the beheaded man appeared close to her face. She cried out and fell backward.

"Over, over, over," the thing sang while floating in the air above her, its severed head close enough for her to see every minute detail. "Over, over, over, over…"

The light of him began to dim, and he faded until only the night and the flames of the tavern remained. Magiere half lay on the ground, numb inside as she watched the burning building for any sign of Rashed.

There was nothing but fire and smoke in the dark.

Chapter Twenty-one

"The first return of emotion fluttered inside Magiere when she saw Leesil open his eyes. He lay on the ground beside her, out in the street. There were fresh teeth marks on his left arm below the ones she'd given him two nights before. His face was pale, but he was breathing without too much discomfort that she could see. He blinked twice from the light of a torch stuck in the ground nearby.

"Is it morning?" he rasped.

"Almost," she answered. "Soon."

Leesil scowled, and that brought Magiere more comfort. Irritation and a foul mood meant he would probably be all right.

"Are we alive?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good… nobody should feel this bad if they're dead."

Magiere sighed, releasing all the anxiety and tension she'd not even been aware was locked inside her. She sat gazing at what had been The Sea Lion. Separated as it was from the buildings nearby, the fire had not spread beyond the tavern.

As Leesil gained some awareness, he lifted his head enough to see the smoldering remains of their home, groaned, and then raised his hands slightly in resignation. When his hands flopped back down, his face winced from pain, and then he tried cradling his injured arm.

"Don't move," she said. "I got you out of the stable, but after that, I thought it best to keep you still."

He half rocked on his back and tried to pull off the wool cloak she'd covered him with, but he only managed to rumple it to one side. She pulled the cloak back up into place again.

Streaks of light now stretched out over the trees to the east, gilding a few white clouds high in the sky. Around them, people still tended the injured or helped them off the streets. Karlin's voice rose occasionally above the general noise as he suggested how to best treat an injury or who might need to be carried. Some members of their little army who hadn't been seriously injured conversed in low voices and patted each other on the shoulder.

Magiere had her own injured to care for, but there wasn't much she could offer Leesil, besides time and rest. Once she'd gotten him out of the stable, she laid him flat and kept him warm. Karlin had told her they were setting up the bakery as a hospice. Although, like Caleb, he didn't think much of Miiska's current healers, he had several people trying to locate one.

"Where'd you find me?" Leesil asked. "The last thing I remember is killing a wolf."

"Apparently, the children dragged you down into their hiding place. Chap was still sitting on the trapdoor, keeping guard when I arrived." She paused. "They're good children. Resourceful. These people are worth trying to save."

"Where's Chap now?"

"Geoffry took Rose to the bakery. I sent Chap with them."

"Is Rashed-"

"Gone." Her tone became flat and empty. "I watched him burn."

She couldn't muster any joy, but Leesil didn't seem to notice. Just when she thought he'd be able to rest and heal, something new managed to beat him down yet again. But not anymore.

That thought brought some comfort again. At least this spiral of success and failure was truly over.

"Nothing happened like I thought it would," she said.

Leesil was about to answer when Karlin walked over to check on him. Though duty and exhausted, the baker appeared unhurt. "Ah, you're awake. I'm so glad. We'll get you somewhere more comfortable as soon as possible."

"What about the rest?" Leesil asked with effort.

"Only five deaths," Karlin replied. Despite the phrase, his tone held enough sorrow for ten times as many. "I'm already trying to arrange visitation ceremonies before burial… when people are ready to face it."

"Brenden's body burned with the tavern," Leesil realized. Then he seemed unable to continue with the thought. "I never planned on fighting wolves."

"No one did. It's not your fault." Karlin's brows knitted. "The moment the tavern collapsed, they all fled back into the forest, as if Rashed lost his hold on them."

"He did," Magiere confirmed quietly.

Leesil lay back and stared up at the sky. "Well, we're homeless… again. All that fighting, and we lost the main thing we'd been fighting for."

"Did we?" Magiere asked.

Again, Karlin frowned, his round cheeks wrinkling slightly. "Heal up and rebuild."