It took them until well past nightfall to find a bluehole that brought them to anything that remotely resembled civilization. They emerged from a small, impossibly deep pond in the middle of a dead silent village. Haode took one look around and recognized where they were with a jolt. Howl Hollow. He had an urge to laugh. What cruel coincidence was this?

  He dismounted and pulled Channei down with him. She looked unconcerned, even amused, by her situation. Haode grabbed her by the collar of her coat and yelled at her. “What’s got you so smug?”

  “You know I can leave whenever the hell I want,” said Channei. “All I have to do is change shape and make a break for it.”

  Ido came up beside them, leading his horse. “Why haven’t you, then?”

  Channei looked up. “Hm. A few reasons. For one, I’m finding this terribly amusing. Another reason is that I’m excited to see just how much of my comrades’ wrath you’ll have rained down on you.”

  Haode’s head throbbed with rage. “Rather telling that no one has come to save you yet, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah.” Channei clasped her bound hands together. “It’s almost like they trust me to take care of myself.” She smiled. “Anyway, my back hurts. Can we take a break?”

  Haode ignored her. “Dakko, keep up.”

  Dakko limped over, barely able to hold onto his horse’s lead. Haode scowled. The boy had ice in his joints again, no doubt. It was a problem that came up all too often. Ido looked at his brother. “Everything all right?”

  Haode glared daggers at Dakko. “Stay on your feet.”

  Dakko let out a breath of icy mist. “I’m trying, boss.”

  Haode yanked his horse’s lead. “That house over there has a paddock. We’ll put our mounts there and take shelter.”

  “Hm.” Channei kicked the snow. “Rather convenient when the entire village is dead, right?”

  Haode handed his horse off to Ido, then went ahead with their captive. He threw the door open and let a gust of wind into the cabin. Dust stirred up from every surface. He coughed. “This place has seen better days.”

  The shapeshifter chuckled. “You’ve seen better days too, I’m sure.” Then her tone shifted. “I haven’t been with you that long, but it doesn’t take a healer to see that you’re horribly sick.”

  Haode yanked her into the house with him and slammed the door shut. “What’s it matter to you?” Part of him wanted to tell her. To tell someone. To plead with absolutely anyone for help. But he couldn’t let that dark future become real, no matter what.

  Channei plopped down on the floor and stretched. “Do I need a reason to be concerned when I see someone in pain?”

  “We captured you,” he reminded her.

  “No, I let you capture me.” She raised her tied wrists and pointed a finger at him. “Important distinction. Anyhow, the Masters might be angry with you, but I have no idea what’s going on with you, so I have no reason to feel the same. Not yet.”

  He heard Dakko whimper outside, then Ido trying to console him.

  “What’s wrong with Dakko, anyway?” Channei cocked her head. “That’s his name, right?”

  “Dakko and Ido.” Haode nodded. “Dakko has ice powers and a problem with ice crystals forming in his flesh. It’s extremely painful for him when his joints freeze up.”

  Channei chuckled.

  Haode glared at her. “Is that funny?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Channei, “but I can’t think of any ability in this world less useful than ice powers. Just look outside.”

  No, Haode thought. There was a worse power than ice, and it was his own future vision. He kept that thought to himself and instead scolded his captive. “Show some respect.”

  “Oh, because that’s what you do?” Channei shook her head. “You are easily the cruelest man I have ever seen when it comes to how you treat those who depend on you.”

  “And how’s it any worse than what Xigon and Qila do to you?” Haode came over and yanked Channei’s sleeve up to reveal rows of burn scars.

  “Oh, those?” Channei shrugged. “You know what they’re for, right? We brand our arms to mark how many we’ve killed.” She ran her finger over the scars and sneered a little. “If you think this is a lot, you should see Master Xigon’s arms.”

  The door opened behind them and Haode jolted. Panic sparked through his nerves until he realized it was only the boys. He took a deep breath. “Get in here, and close that door. It’s cold.”

  Dakko crawled in on all fours. His knees made a strange crackling sound whenever they bent. He looked up. “Won’t the horses get cold out there?”

  “Have you seen how thick their coats are?” Haode shook his head. “They’ll be fine. Ido, I said to close the door.”

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  Ido hurried to slam the door shut, then bent down to pick his brother up.

  Haode turned back to their captive. “I’d think Xigon and Qila are worse masters than I could ever be. Even if they don’t hurt you directly, there’s something insidious in the way they convince their attack dogs to hurt themselves.”

  “An attack dog? Is that what I am? That’s a new one.” Channei flashed an ugly smile. Patches of fur appeared on her skin. “Damn it, I haven’t seen a dog in too long.”

  “Speaking of dogs,” said Ido. “Dakko and I saw a dog out there. Big shepherd-looking dog. You’re sure no one lives here?”

  “Probably a stray,” said Channei. “This whole village died, but someone could’ve left their dog behind.”

  Haode’s eyebrows rose for a second.

  Ido noticed. “Something wrong, boss?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Haode let his eyes illuminate. He sat down on the floor in a pool of red light and extended a hand to play with his shadow. “Not unless either of you start to feel inexplicably happy or have thoughts that aren’t yours.” He bent each of his fingers and watched his hand’s silhouette crawl like a massive spider.

  Dakko and Ido looked at each other. Then Ido hauled his brother to his feet. “Boss, can we sleep in that closet there?” He pointed to a half-open door along the back wall that had some old clothes and blankets spilling out.

  “Go on.” Haode didn’t look up. The boys retreated and closed the door.

  Channei sat down across from Haode. “They’re hiding from you, you know.” She stretched her arms. “They don’t feel safe around you. Doesn’t seem productive if you ask me.”

  “It’s for the best.” Haode traced his finger in circles along the dusty floor. “The more afraid they are, the slower they are to trust, the safer they are.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  He sighed, then coughed. His fear struck for a split second. His body jerked and then he felt heavy, like his bones had turned to lead. Nothing was wrong, he told himself, but couldn’t believe it. His baseless panic faded into a profound depression. Haode’s head sank. His shoulders sagged.

  Channei broke the pause. “You never did tell me what’s wrong with you.”

  “It’s none of your concern,” he grumbled.

  She leaned in closer to him. “Is that so? Suffer in silence, then.”

  He shivered. “Fine. I’ll say it.” Haode’s hands clenched. “I used to be able to see possible futures. Now I can only see death. Death, agony, destruction, and occasionally that girl with white hair.”

  Channei huffed. “Let me guess. You think Kolo’s going to save you somehow?”

  “I know it.” Sudden fervor filled his voice. “I’m not going to die. I won’t surrender.”

  She looked at him with a strange expression. Amusement? Pity? “We all die, Haode. There’s no avoiding it. You at least get the luxury of knowing when and how, I’d assume.”

  “No,” he corrected. “I don’t know when or how.” That was a large part of what terrified him. Death could come at any second, from anything or anyone, no matter where he went. As far as he knew, he was never safe.

  “Find out, then.” Channei lay down on her back and closed her eyes.

  Haode glowered down at her. “What are you doing?”

  “Unlike Master Xigon, I need to sleep more than just a few minutes every couple of days.” She sighed. “His nights must be pretty boring.”

Haode stiffened. “Your master had better pray that he and I never meet.” The tremor in his voice betrayed his fear. He swallowed hard. “Xigon’s no god. We can kill him like anyone else.”

Channei opened one eye. “Sure. I’ll let you believe that.” She took a deep breath and dozed off.

Haode knew he needed sleep too, but he didn’t want to leave his captive unwatched. He considered waking the boys up but decided against it. There was no way in hell that he would be able to sleep anyway. He might as well make himself somewhat useful.

He swept his hand over the dusty floor and gathered a small pile of grit. The walls creaked with the gusts of wind outside. Channei was right about one thing. This place had most certainly seen better days. He had seen better days too.

A morbid curiosity gnawed at him. If he looked ahead, would he see his angel? Would he find respite from his misery? It was worth a try, he decided. Haode closed his eyes and let his mind go forward on whatever path it would.

For a moment, there she was. Kolo’s white hair blew back in a warm wind. Her head was down, and her arms were raised. Haode smiled. He reached toward her. “It’s you.” He took a step closer. “You’re really…”

A tall figure appeared in front of him and blocked his view of Kolo. The world spun around and Haode’s mind raced through every possible way his life could end. He screamed and made no sound.

His eyes snapped open. He still sat next to his sleeping captive. She didn’t stir. Haode fought to catch his breath. He wiped sweat off his forehead and clutched his face in trembling hands. All he wanted was to live and to live without agony. Was that really too much to ask for? At the very least, if he couldn’t live, why could he not know how it would end?

His head sank. He couldn’t die, but he couldn’t live like this either. Why could he not be what he once was? Long ago, he had been strong. He had been confident. He’d had the luxury of being kind. He’d saved Dakko and Ido from an abusive father who blamed them for their mother dying in childbirth. He’d raised them into…into what? He knew how they feared him. He also knew how they hoped beyond reason for his recovery.

Hope was the only demon worse than fear, Haode thought. The empty promise of a better tomorrow was what kept everyone suffering. In that sense, he too was a puppet. He moved at that demon’s whims and little else. The thought made him feel heavy.

Then, out of nowhere, a smile tugged at his lips. He chuckled. His nerves flashed between freezing and scalding. His chuckle escalated to full-on laughter that made his stomach cramp up. Then he nearly vomited.

Outside, some creature scratched its claws on the door. Haode stood up. His heart hammered. Was this it? Was this how he would finally die? Here? Now?

The door snapped off its rusty hinges. A cold wind swept through the cabin. Haode shivered. His captive rolled over in her sleep. A dark shape trotted in. The click-clack of its overgrown claws made him tense up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was a dog. A big shepherd-looking dog, just as the boys had described earlier.

His relief vanished the instant it looked up at him. It bared its teeth not in a snarl but a smile. The dog’s ratty tail wagged, and its ears pricked up. Something about the smile seemed terribly human. Haode took a deep breath. “So it was you. I thought so. You killed this whole village, didn’t you, Linn?”

The ghost inside the dog responded. Linn’s thoughts were like crackling static in his mind. Mine mine mine MINE! The dog yawned and flashed its sharp yellow fangs. My girl my god’s heart my goal my prey my PREY!

“You know about Kolo?” Haode jumped to the conclusion. “You didn’t touch her, did you?”

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The dog took a step closer to him. Haode backed up. “Get away. Go! NOW!”

His yell woke Channei. She sat up and immediately recoiled. “Is that…?”

Linn’s grin widened. His jaw fell open and a sickly pale tongue lolled out. Waiting waiting hurry up. The thought flew at Haode like a spark. Linn turned and went back outside. Mine mine MY PREY…

Haode looked at his captive. “Channei.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Does Kolo have a hole in her memory?”