I was going to the summit.

It hadn’t been my first, second, or third choice, but the same reasoning that made me attend the social applied here.

While we were at the social, George’s Pack had come around and trashed my place again.

It was obvious that they weren't about to leave me alone. I guess I really hurt the prick's pride.

I sighed and rubbed my face. Jack jumped onto my kitchen counter and nudged my arm.

“Demanding your due, huh?” Jack purred as I scratched his head.

Laurel glanced up from her phone. “He is a demanding landlord.”

I scoffed. “Landlord? I’m his landlord.”

The werewolf shook her head. “He’s a cat. That automatically makes this his turf. At least in cat logic.”

“You’re a werewolf expert on cats, huh?”

She nodded primly. “Yes. I love cats!” She looked at Jack and sighed. “Though most cats don’t return the feeling.”

Satisfied with my scratches, Jack hopped off the counter and slinked to Laurel.

She scooped him up and cooed at him. “You do, though, you little sweetie.”

The cat purred.

I laughed, the warm feeling a pleasant distraction from what was coming.

I glanced at my clock. It was almost 4:00. The summit was at 6:00.

Shit, so much for a distraction.

I walked over to my armchair and plopped down. Simon set down the book he was reading. He’d probably finished it. The man was a machine when it came to reading. He’d finished like five books in the time I’d known him.

He started to get up, but Laurel had stretched her legs across the whole couch.

Simon sighed and lifted her legs out of the way. He was more patient than Bobby. He’d just thrown Laurel off the couch.

Simon grabbed another book from my shelf after carefully slotting the previous one in its place like a properly polite guest.

My bookshelf didn’t have any kind of alphabetical sorting, much to Blair’s dismay, but all the series were grouped together. I wasn’t an animal.

I rubbed my face. Thoughts of bookshelf organizing pushed aside by monsters and politics.

“You okay?” Simon asked.

“No.”

He nodded and ran a finger over the book's cover. “Fair. I don’t think I would be either.”

I leaned back, letting a fading sunbeam hit my head. Jack took that as a summons and jumped onto my lap. I stroked his fur, relaxing as he let out a steady purr. “Why can’t you all just beat the hell out of George?”

Laurel shifted, pulling her legs back so Simon could sit. “Politics.”

“That’s a nasty word.”

“Indeed. George isn’t much on his own, but his daddy is an old and powerful Alpha with significant sway in the northwest states. So if we just wacked George, it would create a political shit storm.”

I scowled. “But if George wacks me, it’s fine?”

Laurel’s smile dropped. “Before we took an active role in protecting you?”

I shook my head. “I know the factions wouldn’t care if they killed me before you guys took an interest. I’m just a random local.”

Laurel looked like she’d bit a lemon but nodded. “Yes. Most wouldn’t care at all. But now that we’re involved, it would be a slight against us. Problem is Iron Tooth would publicly reprimand George and say he moved without his blessing, then just help his son in secret.”

Simon spoke up, setting down his second book. “Plus, I’m sure George is betting that we can’t spare that much attention for him while all this madness is going on.”

I nodded. “Which is true enough, I suppose. You all have better things to worry about than avenging one local.”

Both of them frowned at me. Laurel straightened and met my eyes with a hard stare. “Make no mistake, Alder. If George killed you, we would kill him. Even if he ran and hid, we would track him down.” She scowled. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised you thought we would just take that lying down after a week of knowing us.”

Simon nodded. “Especially Blair. Can you really see her responding to your death with anything less?”

I paused, the force in their words taking me off guard.

“Aw shucks, you’re making me feel all warm and fuzzy while discussing murder. I’m not sure if that’s healthy or not.”

Despite my joking tone, their words really did fill me with warmth.

~<>~<>~

The moon mobile was more packed than usual, its spacious interior filled with ghosts.

Blair was driving like usual, with Bobby riding shotgun. Ben lounged next to me, his hands laced behind his head, while Laurel sat to his right. In the very back, Simon sat between Rodgers and Agatha.

More ghosts flew outside the van, trailing us to the summit.

The van bumped and bounced along the north road, its suspension struggling under the assault.

I stared out into the forest, a queasy sort of calm settling over me.

I’d already gone through several rounds of panic attacks, which had left me feeling drained and numb. I knew, intellectually, that I was less likely to be noticed at the summit than I’d been at the social. But sitting in a room with the Pact leaders? With the mages?

I fought off a shudder.

Ben noticed but didn’t say anything.

We hit a particularly large pothole as we left the north road, and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

“We need to patch this road when we get a chance,” Blair muttered.

I chuckled. “Now that would be a blessing. Though it’s a tricky process.”

Laurel frowned. “Why hasn’t it been done alrea- oh.”

“Yeah, monsters and whatnot.” I shrugged. “Most crews don’t want to step foot anywhere near Grumpy’s domain. And he’s hardly the only strange thing on the Northside.”

Simon chuckled from the back. “I still can’t believe you call it that.”

Agatha snorted. “He used to come up with the most outrageous names. Like that feral werebear, you named Jo. Or Cheryl?”

“Hey!” I snapped. “Cheryl wasn’t me! That was that jackass, Trenton.”

“Cheryl?” Blair asked.

“A giant nightmare octopus, don’t worry about it.”

“That sounds pretty worrying.”

“She got torn apart by giant crabs, so that’s taken care of.”

They turned and gave me a look.

I waved my hand at their stares. “We’re getting off track. The reason the road isn’t fixed is a mixture of government incompetence and monsters. There, see? At no point did we need to bring up my perfectly valid and normal naming habits, Agatha!”

The old hag cackled, then completely ignored me. “There was this one time-“

We continued to banter and argue all the way to the Dome.

It was enough of a distraction that my nervousness faded as we drove. That was until the Dome actually came into view.

My nerves crashed back into place as we stopped. From the worried looks the werewolves gave, they could tell. Or, well, smell.

The Pact, the Clans. Their leaders- well, actually not many leaders. Blair’s mother was one of the only faction leaders coming.

Most of the others had gone to fake summits, though I wasn’t sure why they had put so much effort into hiding the summit. Was the Barrow King really so powerful that he could threaten all the leaders at once?

Why don’t you ask the people around you who know far more about this situation?

Feeling stupid, I turned to Laurel as we climbed out.

“Why is the Pact bothering with fake summits and whatnot? Is the Barrow King really that big of a threat?”

She shook her head, braid bouncing with the motion. “The secretiveness of this one is a little unusual, but only having a few faction leaders attending is normal. It’s standard practice after the Pact was almost wiped out around a thousand years ago.”

Rodgers spoke as he floated out of the van. “It was an insane mage getting ahold of a magical super-weapon, specifically. We attribute the blast site to a meteor strike today, but it was just one madman with a grudge.”

Laurel raised her brows. “Huh, I didn’t know that, just that the Pact was almost destroyed.”

She shook her head again.

“Point being, if they need to meet, they either do it in a few heavily defended locations or just send a few leaders and have the others send delegates so they can’t be wiped out in one fell swoop. The heavily defended spots weren’t an option right now; I don’t know why, so…”

I nodded. “Thanks. I had been wondering why all this caution for one vampire.”

Blair cut in. “He is dangerous on his own, but he isn’t just one vampire. He has his house behind him and several other minor houses that aren’t affiliated with the Pact. And he’s been rapidly gathering other allies.”

Blair paused. “Not to mention his magic. His ability to command the undead is dangerous, but the spirits are the real problem. The Pact doesn’t have a truly powerful spirit mage. It’s a vulnerability the Barrow King is almost uniquely suited to take advantage of.”

Blair’s mother, whose name I had never bothered to learn, stepped out of her own van and started walking.

“Follow.”

It wasn’t a request, but not quite an order either. She said it in the same tone of voice you used when saying ‘sky’ or ‘cold.’ You weren’t debating or commanding—just…stating a fact.

We fell into line behind her.

I pulled at my collar as we approached the door—stupid suit. I glanced at Blair. The woman was wearing her own suit, and she was better at it than me—the bastard.

Blair eyed me and raised a brow. I shook my head.

“It’s strange to see her again.” I glanced at Rodgers. No one else had reacted to his words, so he must not have made them audible to the living.

Who the hell was he talking about? Apparently, he could read the thought on my face.

“Adela.”

I blinked.

Rodgers sighed. “Did you really never learn her name? Blair’s mother.”

Ahh, so that was her name.

The old ghost snorted. “I swear, sometimes, Alder…” He shook his head.

“I was in my thirties when I met the Northwoods. It's been decades since I last saw her. I don’t think she’s realized I’m here.” He rubbed his beard and grinned.

“I might get her attention when the summit starts. Throw her for a loop when she really needs to keep composure. I did tell her that humans would annoy her beyond the grave.”

Well, I never need to wonder where I got my petty streak from.

We reached the door, but there was no announcer this time. The first room wasn’t party central anymore either. No fancy mage lights or five-star meals, just a bare stone floor.

That threw me for a loop until I realized we were heading for the sports field. The factions had gathered at a large table in the middle of it.

By the look of the table, we weren’t the first or last to arrive. I glanced around. There wasn’t enough room at the table for everyone, so… ah. The bleachers were filled with the faction members while their leaders or delegates sat at the table.

Blair’s moth—Adela, went straight for the table while Blair led us to an empty section of bleacher.

I followed Blair like a duckling, my attention locked on the table.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

There was Adela, then Cornelius, and another mage I didn’t know sitting on her right. Next to them was Oriana and two more mages I didn’t know.

To Adela’s left was a group of burly men and women I assumed were different Were-Kin. To their left were three pale-skinned and strikingly beautiful people in dark suits and dresses. Vampires, if I had to guess.

And seated next to them was a middle-aged man in a pale suit holding a glowing box.

Oh.

I skipped over the next seat, not wanting to draw the grey-skinned woman’s attention. I didn’t have the faintest clue what the hell she was, but I wanted nothing to do with her.

Next was a seemingly ordinary man in a dark green tracksuit. His choice of clothes made him stand out like a sore thumb, but aside from that, I couldn’t see anything odd about him.

…except he was casually chatting with the grey-skinned woman like it was nothing.

Very not normal then.

There were a few more people I didn’t recognize, and I skimmed past them. Seeing so many new faces at once was causing them to blur together.

My eyes settled on the woman at the head of the table.

She was odd, to say the least. Old, probably in her mid-sixties, with snowy hair bundled up in a red bandanna, a workman’s coat that was several times too large, and a wide, mischievous grin that was out of place in this tense atmosphere.

Her appearance, her position at the table, and the way some of the others were casting her respectful and fearful looks made me sit up and take notice.

A few more groups wandered in, and I slowly settled back on the bench.

I just needed to sit and not draw attention to myself. That should be pretty damn easy, considering the present company. I was downright subtle compared to the leaders of the Pact.

Once everyone had gathered, the old woman at the head stood and cleared her throat. The sound echoed through the room. I didn't see any speakers. Probably magic then.

"Welcome, everyone!" Her voice was strong, and just those two words were filled with dry humor.

"Normally, we would have some formalities to slog through, but one of the upsides of a crisis is that I get to skip some of the boring shit."

I blinked. I had been expecting... Well, I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting, but it wasn't this.

"Let's cut to the chase." She waved at the bleachers. "Vouchers, stand, please."

People climbed to their feet around me, and I paid attention to the bleachers for the first time. I recognized a fair number of faces.

Of course you do, dolt. If they're vouchers, then they're locals.

There was Sally, a hedge mage. A few feet over was Kyle, a Were-Kin of some kind.

There weren't that many, which wasn't that surprising. Many locals would have told the factions to pound sand, regardless of who did the asking.

Rodgers and a few other ghosts stood and made themselves visible. They were only a fraction of the ghosts present.

A lot of people had wanted to witness the summit and had no intention of revealing themselves. Hell, I didn't know all of them that well, and I was pretty sure a few weren't even from town.

The leaders scanned the bleachers, and I saw Adela's eyes widen for a breath as she saw Rodgers. He grinned.

"Y'all can sit now. We already know who you're backing, but I can't skip all the formalities." The old woman, who had never said her name, also sat.

"Five factions have vouchers, but we'll get to the town-specific votes later. I want to get down to the matter at hand."

Her casual tone vanished, and while nothing about her appearance changed, the old woman no longer seemed out of place sitting with these monsters.

"Are we going to war with the Barrow King or not?"

Damn, she really was getting right to it.

I had a feeling there were usually more steps to this, and going off some of the uncomfortable looks I saw around the table and bleachers, not everyone was happy with her skipping steps.

I certainly wasn't one of them, though. More power to her. The faster this was over, the better.

The grey-skinned woman spoke first, her voice deep and uncomfortably loud. "I have missed your directness, Adjudicator," she laughed. "I vote yes!"

Adela was next. She said nothing, simply raising her hand in favor. More quickly followed suit. The guy in a tracksuit tipped the balance into a majority yes.

He raised his hand and shrugged. "It'll be fun. We haven't had a good war in forever."

Just like that, the Pact declared war.

Some of its members were being far too casual about this, but at least it was done.

A man stood from the bleachers and slowly made his way down towards the field.

Blair turned towards him and sniffed. "He's slathered in cologne. Too much cologne."

"Maybe he's just bad at measuring it?"

Blair frowned.

The man stopped once he reached the field and turned to the table. He pulled something from his coat, and I tensed.

The table's occupants had noticed him and turned to face the man. None of them looked very concerned, which was understandable, considering the people gathered there.

He tossed a small wooden box in front of him, and I saw several auras tense around the table, ready to react at a moment's notice.

But no blast of hostile magic came from the box. Instead, sparks of eldritch green light started floating from Its top.

They quickly gathered into a shape, and I felt something from the box. Something familiar.

Spirit magic.

The green motes formed a man. I couldn't distinguish too many details from where I sat, but the image was around average height, with long hair spilling over the shoulders of its fancy suit.

That was about all I could tell from looking at their back.

I was a little taken aback by the magic hologram, but the Pacts response was far more extreme.

Adela stood so quickly her chair exploded into splinters, and many of the others rose alongside her.

The hologram spoke, and I realized it was a live feed.

"No need to be so hasty. I'm not the danger." The man's voice was smooth, and faintly accented, though I couldn't place where it was from.

"How did you find this place?" One of the Were-Kin delegates. I wasn't sure how I knew he was a delegate and not the leader himself. I guess he just lacked that it factor that Adela had.

The hologram ignored the man, turning his head back and forth over the table.

"You all have voted for war against me."

My eyes widened. I'd already guessed who this was, but hearing him confirm it made it real. He was the reason for this stupid mess.

The Barrow King.

I'd fallen into a kind of nervous trance, all of my focus bent on not attracting attention. That trance ended with the revelation.

I squashed a wave of panic. This was almost certainly about to devolve into violence of some kind. And while that was panic-inducing as well, I knew how to deal with that type of panic.

"A not unexpected outcome. But, it's still a shame it played out this way."

He sounded...sincere. I actually believed that he didn't want this. Which was odd since, from what I had been told, he had attacked another House out of the blue.

The old woman, or the Adjudicator, I guess, waved at the image. "Hello, Solomon. I don't suppose you've come to surrender?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Yeah, I assumed as much from the sending instead of coming in person. But it never hurts to check."

The Barrow King laughed. "No, that's not why I'm here. I'm here to convey a bit of information."

Adela growled, and I'll admit, it was an intimidating sound.

The Barrow King spoke over her. "Firstly, I intend no disrespect, Elders, but I can’t have your sendings stay."

I tried to guess where he was looking, and my eyes fell on the grey woman and the tracksuit guy.

The woman smiled, showing off her sharp teeth.

The guy shrugged. "Eh, I get it. No hard feelings. Though I am still going to war on you."

These were the leaders of the Pact?

The Barrow King laughed. "I appreciate your understanding."

The hologram flexed its hand, and a surge of magic flooded the room.

It pressed against my senses, feeling old and icy, like a grave in the dead of winter.

The white-suited man flinched as the glowing box he was holding guttered out.

The grey woman and tracksuit guy vanished.

The room was silent for several long seconds.

"Now, then," the Barrow King shook out his hands. "I said I was here to convey some information. Let's get to that."

What the hell was that? Had he just teleported them or- no, no. He had mentioned spirit sending. I didn't know what that was exactly, but I could take a good guess.

I was looking at a magic hologram.

Those two must have been more advanced sendings, and he'd cut off their feed.

The Barrow King's next words made me forget all about magic holograms.

"The hoard will arrive in a half hour. I suspect your scouts are detecting them right now. Goodbye."

His image vanished, then another wave of magic crashed over the room. Except this time, it triggered something.

All across the Dome, more points of magic bloomed. I could feel them all around us.

Wait, why could I feel them all around us?

Some of the points of magic were far outside my normal range while veiled. So why-

My gut clenched as what I was feeling clicked. I could feel them because they were spirit magic.

They were under the ground, buried several feet deep, and scattered at key points around us. Half a dozen were under the table, more were under the bleachers, and I could feel a few at each exit.

The Barrow King had trapped the Dome.

Trapped it with what?

Everyone had stood at this point, and the roar of overlapping voices filled the room.

"Stay close!" Blair.

"What's happening?" Laurel.

"Wha-"

The trap sprung.

All across the room, hundreds of shades burst from the ground.

My world slowed.

I'd felt adrenaline speed up my perception before, but this was something else. The world moved at a crawl around me, and I felt like I could spend all day examining the scene before me.

Shades weren't ghosts. They didn't have a soul. They weren't people: just a memory, an echo someone's death left in the ambient magic.

But that didn't mean they weren't dangerous.

The shades around us had been stuffed with an absurd amount of power. They were glowing in my senses like red hot metal, and I didn't doubt for a second that they had enough juice to interact with the living.

They boiled up from the ground, crawling over themselves in a mad scramble, their spectral hands reaching.

The Barrow King must have visited old battlefields since most of the shades wore military uniforms, though they were from wildly different eras. I saw some in the red and white of the Revolutionary War crammed next to knights in full plate.

The spirits charged forward with swords and knives and grasping hands, wailing madly.

In that frozen moment, understanding settled in like a cold weight.

This was only going one of two ways.

The shades were everywhere. The truly durable spooks like Adela would make it out, but the mages? None of them had a spirit shift up, and assuming they could even do one, they wouldn't get it up before the shades reached them.

And more importantly, Blair, Simon, Bobby, and Laurel.

The shades didn’t have silver, but with the amount of power rolling off them they would have the strength to rip a person limb from limb.

Werewolves were strong, but they couldn’t hurt the shades, and while they could run from a few, they had no chance against hundreds.

They would be torn apart by hundreds of spectral hands and knives.

Blair was the only one who might make it out. And that was only if she focused on herself and abandoned the others. She'd die first.

I could make it out, though.

If I lifted my veil just a bit and kept my aura up against my body, the mages wouldn't notice, not in this chaos. I could push through any of the shades in my way and make a beeline for the exit.

All I'd have to do was leave the others behind.

Or...

I closed my eyes. I had never been under the illusion that I would live forever. I'd seen death since I was a child and lost count of how many times I'd almost met the reaper.

I had spent plenty of time stewing over how I'd go. I assumed it would be a mad ghost that finally did me in, or maybe a passing monster that caught a whiff of Telss.

This wasn't such a bad way to go, all things considered. At least it would mean something.

I opened my eyes. Blair was staring at me, her irises slowly filling with red as her lips moved in slow motion.

I only had one real option.

I tore off my veil.

Time rushed back in as power poured out of me. People screamed, the shades wailed, and I held nothing back.

"Caspers retreat!" At that signal, every ghost flew straight up. The few who didn’t know the playbook ushered along by the others.

I wouldn't have to worry about hitting them.

Gathering my aura like I had only a few times before, I brought out every bit of magic I had, every scrap, then I pushed.

~<>~<>~

Blunder knew she'd been had.

She felt the pulse of magic tear through the room but hadn't sensed the soul-cages until it was too late.

Solomon had probably used null bark boxes to hide their signature.

How he'd known where they were holding the summit was another matter entirely. They had a mole. Unfortunately, Blunder might not live long enough to sniff them out.

The shades exploded up from beneath the table, and Blunder slowed the world down. After so many centuries, speeding up her perception of time wasn't even that draining.

She wasn't sure if that was going to matter, though.

She couldn't pull up a spirit shift, even in slowed time, it would take her too long. It was the most demanding shift for her, and she'd need to drop her splits and have at least a half-hour of meditation just to start the process.

She could speed up her perception by a lot, but turning the two seconds it would take the shades to reach them into half an hour was beyond her.

She gathered her aura and focused on her earth split. This would be tricky. She could fling them all into the air, but moving them fast enough to escape the shades without killing herself and the other mages from the acceleration was a delicate balance.

Once they were away, one of the others could keep them moving while she tried for a spirit shift. It would leave them hopelessly out of position when the hoard arrived, but it was better than getting torn apart by shades.

She shoved her aura into the turf and prepared to drag the ground into the sky.

Power erupted from the bleachers, slamming against her senses like a cold sun.

Slowly, her body moving like a snail compared to her mind, her eyes settled on the bleachers.

The Telss. He was here, and he was much stronger than she'd thought.

A wave of green and purple surged from the man, flowing and shifting like the northern lights.

He was moving so much magic that the display would leak into the physical world, even those without the Sight would see it.

Blunder felt pity for the Telss.

He'd just thrown his life away.

Moving quickly even in slowed time, the wave reached the first of the shades and flowing pillars of green and purple crashed over them.

The spirits came apart like sand in a current.

His aura pushed against hers with a shocking amount of force as it slammed against the following line of shades. They didn't hold out any longer than the first.

It reached the main mass of shades and paused for a breath, straining against the wall of spirits.

The shade's magic pushed back, cold and dark and furious.

The Telss kept pushing, as inexorable as the crashing tide.

The two magics clashed, both cold and dark. But one was harsh and hungry, like the dead of winter, while the other was a soothing wave. It was a balm on a fresh burn, shade from the hot sun, a long journey's peaceful end.

The shades broke.

The Telss’s power pushed to every corner of the Dome, and everywhere it swept, the shades were wiped away.

In less than two seconds, she had gone from expecting to die to looking at a clear room.

There was no evidence of the clash. The Telss's magic had annihilated every speck of the shades.

Blunder dropped slowed time and took a deep breath.

Every eye in the room was turned to the Telss, some shocked, some grateful, and some hungry.

Blunder cracked her neck and readied her aura. She would do what she could for the Telss, and that started with taking some attention off him.

Which shouldn’t be too hard, since they all had something more urgent to worry about right now, namely, the approaching hoard of undead.