“Do not cry,” said a familiar voice. “Dorian cannot keep you safe. But I will.”

Corvo opened his eyes.

He saw nothing in the dark. There was no light at all, except at the far end of the crawlspace, where the sky’s red glowed dimly atop the road.

Yet then, at his level, flush against the ground as he was, hung two red eyes.

Corvo shook his head. Dorian was dead, and now he was trapped, alone, without Mother, with the Shadow Man—and he had no way to escape. He was in one of his nightmares. Surrounded by monsters. Certain to die.

He tried to scramble away, but an icy hand grabbed his wrist. It held him firmly. He could not escape. He kicked and fought but the hand did not loosen or let go.

“I will not harm you. I love you.”

Corvo screamed. “Go away!” he sobbed. “Let me go!”

The grip tightened. Yet it did not hurt. He hit his head on the top of the crawlspace and fell painfully back to the floor, and as the Shadow Man held him, he realized that it was not the grip of a monster at all.

It was reassuring. A gesture like one from Mother, or Aletheia.

He closed his eyes again and cried loudly.

“Do you want to return to your mother?” the Shadow Man said.

Corvo did not answer. He sobbed. But after a long time, as his tears began to dry, as he shivered in such fear that he could not even cry, he nodded.

“I want mama,” he whispered.

“I see her. I see everything that happens in the dark. She is alive.”

Corvo’s chest caught at the zenith of a quiver. He gasped, holding his breath, and he looked for the red eyes again.

“She is?” he whispered

“Yes. They are all safe. Trito slew one of the white elves. Eris and Aletheia slew another. Yet they are injured. They cannot come so far to find you. But we can go to them, my little crow.”

Dorian was dead. The worst had already come to pass. Yet in that moment Corvo felt bright relief flood his chest, as he realized that his imagination was still nothing more than dread and doubt. He believed the Shadow Man. He knew, suddenly, that Mother was alive, and so he could be with her again soon.

But he could not think clearly. It was all far too terrifying. He wanted nothing but to follow an adult, who might know what to do when he did not.

And the Shadow Man was the closest thing to an adult he could find.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Okay. Wait here. I will return soon.”

The eyes vanished, and Corvo waited. He covered his face and did nothing, until, some minutes later, he heard the Shadow Man’s voice calling him out of the crawlspace and back to the road.

He followed it. He crawled painfully beneath the building toward the light, until finally, cut and aching and tired, he emerged before two solid shadowy legs.

It was dark enough between the towers for the Shadow Man to appear as a physical thing. And he did, eight feet tall, looming over Corvo; and in his hands was the body of Dorian.

“Dorian!” Corvo said.

He jumped up and ran to him, and the Shadow Man showed him.

Corvo grabbed Dorian’s dangling arm.

He was cold.

His own blade remained through his sternum. Blood caked his neck, but he bled no longer. His gambeson was soaked red.

He was dead,

“He is not your true friend. Not like me. He will harm you, if he remembers that he wants to. But I will rescue him anyway.”

Corvo did not understand what the Shadow Man meant. Did he think Dorian could be saved? Was that why he carried him all this way? But maybe Corvo was wrong, and maybe Dorian could be saved after all, and the Shadow Man was right; he did not know, except that he wanted everyone to survive. To him, death was only an idea, a thing that existed to take his fathers away. It never happened to the people he really knew. How could it?

But he knew that it could, no matter how little sense it made, and he did not want that for anyone. Not even Dorian.

“Come,” said the Shadow Man. “I will take you to your mother.”

The Shadow Man lumbered off into the road with Dorian still in his hands. And he knew the darkness, and this time he knew precisely which way to go. He chose one alley and another and a road and a ruined building with no clear reason, but no matter where he led Corvo, when they emerged somewhere with a clear view of the Obelisk, it was closer.

He stopped once in a road, before a building he had begun to enter.

“There are goblins within. Come this way.”

Then, again, in an alley:

“Spiders have woven a web. Not here.”

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Down another alley. Corvo stepped into a deep puddle and twisted his ankle. He whimpered, but Mother always told him not to complain, so he said nothing. He followed wordlessly after the Shadow Man.

They turned a corner.

An orc sat beneath a light on the side of the building. It was a spot of stone that radiated white, casting it like a lamp down on the ground. The orc had her back against the wall. Her eyes were closed, she looked to be asleep, but when Corvo stepped in another puddle, the splash echoed against the huge towers around them.

She woke up.

Her hair was wispy and white. Her skin was gray and sunken, and her eyes were blacker than the Shadow Man.

She wore rags and had no weapon. When her gaze found Corvo and the Shadow Man, she frowned quizzically.

Corvo stepped backward. His ankle stung, and he fell.

The orc stood.

The Shadow Man stepped up to her.

She looked to his eyes. She said something in a horrible language, the uttering of which was like being subsumed in bass, and she reached out to his arm. Then Corvo recognized only one word: a word in Regal, the word for demon.

Her eyes flashed with white fire. Her mouth opened. Black streaks appeared along her cheek, and she cast a spell.

But nothing happened. She looked up at him, then down to Corvo, and hissed. She bore twisted black fangs, and she clawed at him.

Yet her hands passed through him harmlessly.

“You may not hurt Dorian. You will not hurt Corvo,” said the Shadow Man.

The orc hissed. She turned suddenly and fled, passing beneath the spot of light, but the Shadow Man set Dorian down and vanished.

He reappeared at the end of the alleyway. He blocked her path, and she screamed in surprise as he materialized before her.

He took her by the neck. And it was easy—effortless—for him to heave her into the air, until her feet dangled above the ground.

Corvo remembered the troll. He remembered the Shadow Man’s anger, and how he had torn the troll to pieces before his eyes. Yet this time he seemed calm. More calculated. More controlled.

He twisted his fingers, and the orc’s neck snapped.

She turned to dust in his grasp. Slowly, from the head to her feet, she sprinkled into ash, and she formed a pile at his feet.

The Shadow Man vanished and appeared again at Corvo’s side. He heaved him back to his feet.

“I am sorry I had to hurt her. But she would tell the others. You understand, don’t you?”

Corvo nodded.

“Do you understand? Are you still sleeping?” He said this to Dorian as he picked him back up. “I know you would. You are a bad man. I would have avoided her. I wanted to avoid her. But I could not see her, in the light.”

A demon streaked overhead. It was green and serpentine, like the other, and they both craned their heads to watch it pass.

“It is still not safe,” the Shadow Man said. “I know where it is safe, in the comfort of the dark. Will you still come with me?”

Corvo did not need to be asked. He was already leading the Shadow Man to the end of the alley.

When they emerged they were very close to the Obelisk, as close as they had been before being teleported away. The Shadow Man led Corvo up to the second story of the last tower on the road to the Obelisk, and there, at a wall, he set Dorian down.

“She is coming. Wait here, my little crow. You will be safe soon.”

Corvo collapsed by Dorian’s body. He was starved and dehydrated and ready to pass out. Yet when he looked up again, he saw the Shadow Man kneeling before him, the red eyes at his level.

“Would you like to play?”

Corvo shook his head. He was too afraid to play. Instead he pulled his legs to his chest, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t even cry. He was too tired for that. He did nothing but rest.

But a moment later, he felt something icy rubbing up against his leg.

He opened his eyes, and he saw a puppy. A puppy of pure darkness, with floppy ears and a wagging tail, and it rubbed itself against him, squirming up to his armpit, reaching out with a black tongue to lick his cheek.

The same puppy he had seen on the first day he met the Shadow Man, in the Tower of Keraz, in the library.

Its fur was hard and freezing. But he pet it anyway, bringing it into his lap with a smile forming on his lip. He couldn’t stop himself.

Then he heard echoing up the nearby stairs. He turned, and the puppy disappeared.

Mother stood in the doorway.

“Get away from him!” she shrieked. A flash of light burned across the whole of the dark room, and the Shadow Man disappeared.

She ran to Corvo on the ground. She embraced him, sobbing, and buried her head against his shoulder.

She smelled like blood. She had a large gash across her forehead, and her armor was speckled with gore. Behind her followed Aletheia and Dorian. Aletheia’s arm was cut badly, and Trito’s mail was splintered at the gut; he had been stabbed in the stomach.

“Mama!” Corvo shouted. “No! He saved me!”

She said nothing at first. She simply held him, crying, when at last she looked to his eyes.

Then she looked to Dorian, dead on the ground. Suddenly she let Corvo go. She tugged him to his feet, away from the body.

“What happened?” she asked.

“There was the demon!” Corvo said. “And Dorian stayed behind, and I was lost, and then the Shadow Man came and led me here, and Dorian—he brought Dorian with us! He saved me!”

The light from the staff ceased. Mother looked straight ahead.

The Shadow Man reappeared. His head scraped the ceiling.

“He stayed behind so Corvo could escape,” buzzed the Shadow Man’s voice. “But I brought him with us. So he can be healed.”

Mother held an arm on Corvo to block the Shadow Man from him. She raised her staff toward him, like a shield to keep him away. But she did not use a spell of light.

“He cannot be healed,” she said seriously. “He is dead.”

“Dead?”

“Look at him! He is—he is dead and gone, creature! There is no saving him! He has left this world! He is still and silent and will never breathe again! He has abandoned us, just like your mother abandoned you!”

The Shadow Man cocked his head. And he regarded Dorian.

“He is dead,” his voice echoed.

“As you shall soon be, too,” Mother sneered.

“Mama!” Corvo said. “He saved me!”

“I led him back to you. So he would be safe. He was not safe without Dorian awake.”

Mother hesitated. She shook her head, stepping backward. “Why?” she said quickly, like she was terrified. “This—you cannot redeem yourself now. We have—we have come too far. You are our enemy.”

“I know. But I did not want anything to happen to my little crow.”

Aletheia went to Dorian’s side. She checked his pulse, looking him over, seeing if he was still alive. But when she cast a small light in her hand, she saw the sword in his chest. Her look darkened, and she shook her head at Mother.

“It’s his own sword,” she said softly. “It’s through his heart.”

“The demon took it!” Corvo said. “And he used it on him!”

“He died for your son,” Trito said. “An ironic ending. And fitting.”

Mother shook her head again. And she looked to the Shadow Man, and back to Dorian, and she whispered, “You thought he was still alive?”

The Shadow Man nodded. “I did not think he deserved to be saved. But I wanted to show you that I did not mean you harm. So you knew I did not hurt him.”

“Yet you would have, with the chance,” Mother said.

“I never hurt Dorian. There were many chances. But I never hurt him.”

“We can take him with us,” Trito said. “He can be buried in Katharos, and his soul put to rest. He has earned that much.”

“We will do nothing of the sort,” Mother said.

“Eris,” Aletheia said, “he died for Corvo. Because of your spell.”

Mother fell silent again. Her breathing hastened. A light began to emanate from her hand. But then it disappeared, suddenly, and she sighed.

“You idiot man,” she whispered. “It did not have to be this way.” Then she looked to the Shadow Man. “I will not forget this. You have saved my son’s life. But you know that I cannot let you live.”

With that she turned.

“We will not spend another moment in this cursed city,” she said as she dragged Corvo down the stairs. “Take him with us if you will. But I do not believe in burials.”

Corvo saw over his shoulder as Trito did exactly that. He and Aletheia picked Dorian up, and they followed Mother out into the streets. Behind them, the Shadow Man disappeared.

Then they were at the Obelisk’s entrance. It would all be over soon.