Averil's body was pinned to the bed, blood everywhere, as if she had died twice.

Silvanus lay on the floor, arm chopped clean and burned on the end. He had grabbed Jonathan's robe and whispered, "She did not do this on purpose. It was an accident."

Jonathan had fled that room to Tereza's arms, only to find her burning with fever. He had left her side not knowing if she even knew he had been there. The wound had gone septic. But after what he had seen in the next room, he was glad Tereza had refused Elaine's healing.

He had led them to Ashe's house through the gathering dusk, determined to end this tonight. There had been no time to seek Elaine, and Jonathan wasn't even sure he wanted to. His worst fears had been confirmed in that small room.

"I think Elaine and I can work together," Ashe said. "Our combined powers should be able to raise the dead in truth."

"Elaine will never help you," Konrad said.

"Oh, I don't know. Lock her in a room to watch her brother's body rot, and she might."

"You're more a monster than any of the dead," Konrad said. He stalked forward, but Thordin grabbed his arm.

"Not yet," he said.

Thordin released Konrad's arm and palmed a small clay jar with a waxed stopper. Jonathan and Gersalius lifted stoppered pitchers from sacks at their belts. They pulled the tops from them. Konrad threw the jar at Ashe, and as the clay shattered, oil splattered over his clothes. Ashe yelled, and the creature leapt.

Thordin fell to the floor with the creature atop him. He dropped his sword-the fighting was too close for that-and scrambled for his belt knife.

Konrad sunk his axe in the thing's back. The spine crunched under his blade. The creature screamed, rearing, and Thordin speared it through the belly with his knife. It screamed again but did not die. Thordin doubled his feet under it and kicked it backward. It landed at Ashe's feet, but scrambled to turn and fight.

The undertaker laughed. "Let's see how you do against more."

The coffin lids slammed back, and the dead crawled out.

Jonathan splashed oil on the dead and the coffins. He heard more liquid spatter behind him and knew Gersalius was doing the same.

Konrad yelled, "Wait! Where's Elaine?"

Jonathan shook his head. He couldn't think of it. He struck fire with flint and steel. Flame sputtered to life.

The creature circled Thordin and Konrad. Ashe turned and ran. Konrad bolted past the creature, leaving Thordin on his own, and gave chase.

Jonathan called, "Konrad, don't." But he was gone, and the oil went up in a whooshing rush. They were suddenly surrounded by flame.

Thordin had pinned the first zombie to the floor. He smashed a jar of oil on it, and the flames crawled over its skin. The thing rolled and screamed as if it hurt. The dead didn't hurt, did they?

The other zombies fell back into the coffins and burned. No screams, no struggles; they died like good zombies should.

Flames ate the rich carpet and licked at the walls. The far doorway was a wall of dancing fire. A backwash of heat chased them toward the shattered door.

"Jonathan," the voice brought him whirling around. Tereza stood just outside the door. The flames showed blood on her face. The varnished panels must have been flammable because they went up in that moment with an intense flame that drove the three of them outside.

Jonathan stepped from the shattered door to his wife, taking her arms. "You're hurt."

She smiled. "It's not my blood."

"You shouldn't have come. We can fight this evil without you."

She glanced at the flames. The room was almost engulfed. Gersalius and Thordin stood to either side. They all looked at the blaze and up to the untouched upper story. Elaine and Konrad were up there, somewhere.

Tereza leaned into her husband's chest, arms wrapping round him. She didn't know. She had fought her way through the streets to find them, and she didn't know Elaine was upstairs.

"We have to do something," Thordin said.

Tereza hugged Jonathan tight. Both arms hugged him. He tried to move her back a step to see her face. Her skin was cool, the fever broken. She nestled against him, arms pressing into his ribs.

"Tereza?" he said it softly.

She spoke with her lips against his neck, cheek nestled in his beard. "Jonathan, I'm so hungry."

Teeth cut into his neck. He screamed and tried to push her away. She clung to him, mouth fastened to his neck, lapping up the blood, digging for flesh.

Thordin pulled her head back by the hair. Gersalius helped peel her off Jonathan. Thordin flung her into the snow-covered street. Tereza stood there, looking just like herself except for the blood on her face.

Gersalius splashed oil on her. She screamed, "Jonathan."

"No!" He took a step forward. Thordin grabbed him.

Gersalius snapped off a flame spell. It arched through the air like a tiny star, then hit the oil with a loud blue rush of heat.

Tereza shrieked, and what she screamed was his name. "Jonathan!"

He collapsed. Only Thordin's arms kept him from falling. The big man lowered him to the ground and sat, cradling him.

She burned. The skin that he had caressed so many times peeled and blackened. The hair went up in a shower of sparks. Through it all, she screamed his name. At the end, Jonathan screamed hers.

She fell forward into the snow, one burning hand still reaching for him.

THIRTY-TWO

Harkon Lukas stood in the shadows of the room, last door to the right. Ashe had come running, with Konrad behind him. It had worked better than Harkon had hoped. Only Konrad had followed. He waited in the shadows, expecting the others.

"Where's Elaine?" Konrad stalked into the room, axe held ready.

"I don't think I'll tell you," Ashe said.

"Tell me where she is, and I won't kill you."

"I don't think you'll kill me at all." He backed away toward where Harkon was hiding. "I think you will be the one who dies." He swept the drapes aside, revealing Harkon.

Lukas had to smile. He did so love a dramatic gesture.

"The bard. What are you doing here?" Konrad said. He stood in a crouch, axe at the ready. He was surprised but still sure what to do. Kill it if it threatens you, no matter who it is.

Ashe was smiling out at Konrad, eager for the show to begin. Harkon stabbed the narrow undertaker through the back. He fell to his knees, a startled expression on his face. His hands groped at the sword point coming out of his chest, then he fell slowly forward, sliding off the sword on his own.

Harkon stepped away from the wall. "We don't have much time. I'll take you to Elaine."

"What were you doing here with the undertaker?"

Oh, he was nicely suspicious. "From the smell of things, we don't have much time. She's locked in. She'll be burned alive."

Doubt passed over Konrad's face.

"I suspected Ashe, but needed proof. When he ran in here, I hid. I was certainly glad to see you."

Konrad lowered his axe but did not put it away. Harkon sheathed his own sword. "We must hurry. Without our help, she'll never escape."

Harkon walked toward him, hands loose at his sides, showing himself unarmed without being obvious about it. "She's just across the hall in the next room." He pointed out the open door.

Konrad turned to look, and Harkon slid a hidden dagger into the man's heart. Konrad gave a wordless cry, and his axe dropped from suddenly nerveless hands.

Harkon lowered the dying man to the floor, holding him close. He grabbed the amulet and tossed it over Konrad's neck.

"Sleep. Sleep forever, my suspicious friend."

Something hit him in the chest, like a club. Harkon stared down to find a knife in his chest. Konrad's hand slipped away from it, and he fell backward, collapsing to the floor.