Author's note: Greetings everyone! So sorry that my updates are sporadic. I keep attempting a schedule but there's a lot of things going on in my life right now. At the moment I'm just going to be updating when I have the content to do so with at least a week in between them in the hopes of building some kind of buffer. Thank you so much for all your patience! If you haven't already, you need to read Tricked Out by Aria of Light, and if you've already read that, you should check out Between Tricks, which is an anthology Aria is working on as a continuation of Tricked Out. Also, don't forget to join the discord server! You'll be able to chat with Aria and me and we're both better able to keep readers appraised about updates, delays, and what's going on in our lives. You can also discuss the chapters lol. Just paste this code at the end of the usual discord invite link: nPkEbyDts3

See you there!

(note: I'm publishing this from my phone and I think some of the important italics were lost. I will fix them as soon as I'm back at my computer today and remove this note when I update the changes.)

Chapter 53

Lantern

Anna followed Chakis for a while without saying a word.

But the woods were getting darker. Her eyesight was better attuned to low light. If she was human, she wondered just how dark it would be. Light was coming through the branches, barely, but it was disappearing. Was the sun setting?

It would be useless to ask where the Reaper was taking her…

But why not teleport her there? (Wherever 'there' was.) Why were they walking?

The silence was suffocating. "I met Arachne," she said to Chakis' back, leaning to the side to glimpse the Reaper's expression past the shoulder.

"I know," Chakis said. She wasn't condescending. The statement might have even been a little lighthearted. Maybe.

Anna took a couple more followed paces. "I've met Mary Shelley's Creature. Dracula. Fairly sure, I'm on a first-name-basis with a Wendigo. Ghouls. Ghosts. Samara. She said she's from a movie that hasn't even come out yet. How's that possible?"

"Her story. The creator has already thought about her and her story up in their mind with a great deal of care. Putting the story in a consumable medium is secondary if the creators put their soul into the story early in the conception process and either loves the story enough or shares it with human souls who do." It was an unusually straightforward and informative answer from the entity, even if it begged more questions. "And she is not 'from' that film. When next you see her, ask her about her other name. Sadako. She has several identities to sort in her mind."

Anna stared, curious. "So Citizens maintain the different versions of their stories in their heads? Doesn't that get… confusing?"

"Depend on who you would ask. That is a question better asked of your new contemporaries or your grandfather."

Anna halted her steps a moment and frowned at the "angel," but Chakis did not care about the silenced footsteps.

Anna kept walking, her torn lips curling a little. "I don't want to ask Jack anything."

"I know."

Anna didn't want to talk after that. Instead, her thoughts went back to the bizarre situation Chakis had pulled her out of.

A Changeling. There was a changeling living with her ancestors. Can Fae have kids? Did she have distant cousins out there who…

Anna shook her head. She had other concerns at the moment, like what the hell she got herself trapped in.

She owed some random Fae a favor.

That was dangerous, she knew. She had read enough interesting retellings of some of the classic Grimm's fairytales in the Halloween Town Library. Even the town library in Yomen told her not to trust the Hollywood versions of fairytales. The original tales were dark. She knew that.

Halloween kept scattered records of other run-ins with fairies. A few were entertaining until Annalise remembered where she was and realized they were more history than imagination now. Then the stories were worrying.

There was one such story, handwritten in a half-completed leather-bound book. The ink was faded and the protagonist's name especially was unreadable, overly so. It was like someone had erased just the name in some parts, like the ink were pencil marks.

But someone wrote it in English so that was a plus, even if some of the spelling was unfamiliar.

Based on what she could gather, the protagonist liked to play music at the edge of the forest near their village. Anna wasn't sure what the instrument was. Eventually the person, who Anna thought might have been a young girl, noticed that some animals would stick around while she was playing. It sounded like the beginning of a Disney movie…

Except it turns out that when the girl payed a little more attention to them one day, the things she thought were deer were not deer and maybe never were. The protagonist stopped playing her instrument in the woods after that and had nightmares for several weeks. Then the young man betrothed to her got very sick, or maybe injured. Thinking she could save him, the girl returned to the forest and played her music until she could tell she was being watched. She expressed she wished for help. That she would bring offerings of music if whoever was there would help her. Something approached and sat next to her and asked what she wanted. She asked if they were a demon and they said no. They specifically said they were a Fae that lived in woods the girl used to visit so often and that they were in love with her and her music.

The girl told about her lover dying and asked if the Fae could heal him. The Fae agreed, but instead of wanting the girl's music like she assumed, they wanted her firstborn child.

At this point Anna had to wince while she was reading.

In the present, she must have gotten lost in her thoughts and the memory because she was only distantly aware of a crisp wet crunch under her feet and Chakis looking behind to glance at her. She barely payed attention to her surroundings, only really aware of Chakis' presence and feeling some misplaced safety in it.

But Chakis never drew Anna out of her thoughts, and Annalise didn't notice the surrounding snowfall.

In the story, the betrothed was healed.

Anna had kept reading the book, thinking it was a Rumpelstiltskin type of story.

Instead, the tale she read took a much worse turn. Anna didn't want to think about the details, but whoever wrote the story did. It seemed like they had to think about them and get those unfortunate moments down on paper and out of their head. Instead of letting the girl live her life and marry her love, the Fae stole the girl away to the fairy courts. The girl literally "gave" the Fae whom she made a trade with her firstborn child, unwillingly. There wasn't a very PG way to put it while being respectful to the bluntness of the story Anna had read.

The skeleton teen hadn't been expecting how dark the tale turned and nearly put the book down. But she had to finish, the rock riddled ceiling of the lower Library almost feeling like it was crushing her with its stalactite teeth by the candlelight.

The fairies forced the protagonist to sing and play her music. They only allowed the young mother to take her half-human-half-fae child outside when they could see the moon during the day, but they had to stay in the shadows of the trees. One day, some hunters who saw the child playing caught them. There weren't many details about the kid, but the writer called them a "beautiful child" but the hunters had "blinded mortal eyes." So perhaps the kid didn't appear completely human. That was a death sentence for them and their mother.

She told her child to run. The hunters murdered the protagonist, and she died without knowing what really happened to her little kid. She "woke up" a ghost in that same forest where she spent her childhood, was kidnapped, had her baby, lived, and died—always appearing in the shadows of the trees when the moon was visible during the day. She haunted those woods, attacking men and even occasional Fae that crossed her path when she manifested. Occasionally she stole away children, mistaking them for her child, but she always returned them with stories of the "nice lady."

Local stories grabbed her. Stories of a weeping lady haunted the woods. They kept getting the story wrong. She even tried to tell the living that she ran into what really happened and asked them for help to find her child. Sometimes the details she wanted would stick for a while. Eventually, people added more inaccurate twists to her story. Even descriptions of her changed, twisting from a pretty girl to something else entirely. A witch. A demon. Something horrid.

Over the years she changed, her own memories muddling with the tales. She became frustrated, lashing out at poor souls that came across her, and this ate away at her more. The girl wasn't a human soul anymore. She considered if she ever was, since she didn't go to Heaven after possibly being tainted by Fae, and she never reached Hell. Not that it mattered. She was in her own hell. Then…

That's how the story ended.

Then

Just that word. No punctuation. Nothing following except an empty page with ink that was faded beyond recognition.

Anna had tried for hours to make out the faintest words but she couldn't find anything and it was so frustrating to have an ending, an answer, right there in front of her but still out of reach. Even the beginning of the story had been hard to piece together, but at least she found what she did.

All the story really told her was that the world and humans were cruel, and Fae were not to be trusted.

Why didn't she think of that story in the stress of that moment, bartering for Muirgen? Why the ever loving fuck did she ever bother thinking, "what would Jack do?" Jack was a fucking short-sighted idiot whose tricks only aided himself!

She tried to trick them. That backfired, and now she had yet another unknown fate hanging over her. Penance for her idiocy.

Back in the Library, Lily had been the one that interrupted her strained perusing of the unfinished book, complaining about her wet fur.

Anna huffed at the memory.

Ah, the blissful earlier hours where her only concerns were Jack and demons; not Jack, demons, Halloween citizenship, and fairies. Oh, and whatever Chakis wanted from her. And her cat's wellbeing.

Lily hadn't even followed her to Arachne's house, too comfortable in the slightly warm sun spot she had found in Harlequin's shop. It was for the best. Anna didn't know if Chakis would bring Lily "here" but she would prefer they didn't find out.

"There was a story I was reading earlier," Annalise said, focusing on Chakis again. "Some words were faded, others weren't."

"Yes," Chakis said.

"Was that a Citizen's story?"

"It is, and it was."

"What?"

"You'll see," Chakis said. She stopped walking and turned sideways to look at the girl.

Anna shifted under the silent gaze.

"Remember, your thoughts are your own."

"Okay…"

"I don't experience time the same way you do and while I know your thoughts, I do not influence them or your choices."

Anna picked at a bit of her loosely sloughing skin, perplexed. "Alright…"

Chakis stared at her for a moment with that ageless unreadable expression only something preternatural could manage, the context of a million human lifetimes behind those eyes. She stepped further from the path.

"Keep walking, Light," Chakis said. "I will meet you further along."

"I hate when you…" Anna huffed when Chakis disappeared between one blink and the next. "… do this."

With the Reaper gone, Anna abruptly noticed how much tunnel vision she had built up buried in her thoughts.

Where did all the snow come from?

It was the middle of the night and she was standing in the blue-gray depths of some forgotten forest up to her goddamn knees in thick sheets of snow, seemingly in the stillness long after a snowstorm. Nothing felt wet or cold.

The moment Anna was aware of the strangeness, she felt a chill.

"Ugh." She shuddered, crossing her arms. The bitter cold sunk in and froze her previously boiling blood.

I'm not supposed to feel cold, she irritably thought, resolving to ignore what she could only imagine was her brain pulling a trick on her.

Her feet didn't feel wet either. She was a ghost, passing through the snow.

What the hell decides whether or not I'm solid?! If the snow is just going to pass through me, so should the cold!

When she thought that, some of the chill equalized. She was still cold, but it was closer to nothingness and that ever-present pain from before.

"Would be great if someone explained ghost physics to me eventually," she muttered, stomping her way out of a snowdrift without leaving a mark. She welcomed shallower ground. "What is it? I have to expect to touch or pass through something? What about being seen?"

James and Mira could see me pretty easily. I think some villagers could too.

"It's really a matter of perspective, Spirit."

She screamed. Embarrassing, but her feelings on the matter were moot.

Spinning around and falling backwards into the snow, Anna found herself face to face with the personification of the ever-present confusing bitterness she had in her mouth.

Jack blankly stared at her from where she had been standing a moment before. Had he come up behind her, then followed when she walked those few feet? He looked different. A little cleaner, but no less ragged. The rags were different, and he carried a walking stick in one hand and something round and familiar in the other, tucked against his side.

Anna stared at the light coming from the round object. The smiling glow of an old turnip grinned at her, mockingly almost.

"The Lantern Bearer," the wind had called him.

She jumped at a stick waving in her face.

Jack waited patiently while he offered the end of his walking stick to help her up. Snow dusted his shoulders.

She took it, half unsure how solid the stick was.

"I was just thinking how overdue I was for a haunting," Jack said. "From thou, Spirit."

Anna stared at him and she gingerly dusted herself off.

"Are thou alright?" he asked.

Anna stiffened. "What do you want?"

"Pardon?"

"You're nicer."

Jack frowned. "And ye are not. Tell me, when did ye last see me?"

Anna's sockets narrowed, noticing his switch of words, even if she was still fairly sure his speech was being translated for her. Did he mean future-him or this him?

Her hesitation was enough of an answer, apparently.

Jack shifted, adjusting the funny little lantern in his arms, like it were suddenly heavy.

"Ye don't appear to torment me chronologically nor with apparent pattern. It's been a near 50 years since I last saw ye, but ye hold yourself in such a way that I suspect the visit is in thy future."

"… great. Time travel wasn't complicated enough."

Jack's lips pursed so tightly they almost disappeared.

Neither said anything for an awkward moment.

"So uh… trade any more grandchildren lately?" Anna blurted, scratching icing blood off her forehead.

Jack flinched, and Anna felt a twinge of guilt.

"Far from it. If anything, I may be passing my eternity away with penance," he said, shifting the lantern closer to his chest and drawing Anna's attention to it.

"Hmm," Anna hummed, eyes landing on the thing that kept pulling her gaze. "That… turnip… You got the fire inside it from Hell, didn't you?"

"I did…" Jack said, hesitantly.

Anna wondered if he was concerned how she knew that.

"It's a weird-looking lantern, Jack," she said.

"It is indeed."

"You didn't have it with you the last time I saw you."

"I used to hide it away. I found it has… properties… that I don't wish other creatures to use," Jack said, "And I didn't need it back then." He spoke slowly, carefully, choosing his words.

Anna's eyes lifted in confusion. "Properties? Magic properties? Like what?"

"I don't believe I should tell ye." Jack turned to peer around the area quickly, even while Anna opened her mouth to voice her complaints and demand answers. "WELL, this certainly isn't a suitable place to make camp. Shall we move off the road a way, Spirit?"

"Now wait a sec, you can't just—"

"After all, humans can't usually see us, but I would rather not risk a drunkard or someone with good perceptions seeing through the Veil. Come along then." Jack then grabbed her arm and led her away from the snow covered road she had been walking with Chakis.

"You're being a jerk on purpose, aren't you?" Anna spat, "I was just asking—"

"Shh," Jack interrupted her sharply and lowered his voice. "Not here. Trees listen, Spirit."

That shut her up. It was a frightening change in tone from Jack.

He let go of her arm, and she halted. He glanced at her before he kept walking.

It took her a few of his paces before she followed. He nearly disappeared into the thicker trees.

"The last time I saw you…" Anna began eying the trees in passing. "This you… I… I watched you."

Anna saw his shoulder tense, but he didn't look back.

"You sold me, Jack."

"I did not." His voice was softer, but he still didn't look at her. "I traded ye. A life for a life. I did not disrespect your value with fame or fortune or any other worldly thing."

"Except time," Anna said, bristling. Like his "respect" meant anything. "Time I should spend with my family. You didn't trade my life for a baby's. You traded my family for yours. And that's worse." She jogged in front of him, and the two stopped in their tracks, staring at each other. His eyes tired—hers burning.

"You destroyed my family to save yours. Children die. It sucks but something tells me Death doesn't play favorites. The problem here is that you played God."

"I did." Jack held up a hand to stop her from speaking, but his eyes looked away in pain. His palm folded into a fist and he shifted his walking stick back into that hand from under his arm. "Ye are tired of my apologies. At least the last version of you I met was. Ye and I have hart many an encounter over the years. Your behavior has not always been consistent. But here ye are in pain that is fresh and searing and I cannot fault any word you say and I know nothing I say can appease thy torment. So all I ask is that ye let silence be our companion until we find a spot to rest."

Anna glared at him. And when she said nothing else, Jack went around her and kept walking.

Eventually he stopped in a space beside a large fallen tree, far from the road or any game trail. The brush was thick. They hid in a spot no human with an inkling of any wilderness survival knowledge would think of resting, far from any road and dead branches hanging like guillotines above them. He set his walking stick down, but not the lantern, and walked around the site, collecting wet sticks and small logs with one hand, without a word to Annalise. He left his footprints, while Anna remained ghost-like and traceless.

She sat down in the snow, leaning against the fallen tree while watching him. She didn't move to help, feeling a little petty.

He didn't ask for her help.

She noticed when he suddenly paused, frozen in his steps.

Anna tensed, wondering if there was danger around; however, Jack's actions just made her more confused than usual.

He removed the turnip lantern from tucked against his side and looked into its roughly carved eyes, the firewood tucked under his other arm.

The light inside flickered and Jack spoke to it, his voice low and unheard over the short distance and rustle of branches in a winter breeze.

What the hell is he doing? Anna thought. There had to be a limit to her confusion, right?

Jack walked over, dumping the wood in the center of the clearing on his way. He held out the lantern, but there was a hesitancy in his bones.

She stared at him dubiously. "Weren't you being all possessive of this thing and its secrets a bit ago?"

Jack gestured for her to take the turnip. "She wants to know who you are. I don't think I'm knowledgeable enough to answer her questions."

"What?"

Jack sighed, but instead of explaining, he took her hand before she could pull away and put the vegetable into it. "Look in the eyes." He then turned and went back to building a small fire before "Spirit" could argue with him.

"What are you—?"

"Greetings."

Anna halted her thoughts and complaints and looked down in shock as a black squirming smoke flickered out the eyes and mouth of the lantern, brushing against her hands, before retreating into the fire within again.

"Hi?"

The inky thing's confidence seemed to grow and Anna watched as the blackness enveloped the lantern until Anna was holding a compressed shadow with two glows at its center. She could see the fire that came from the lantern wrapped protectively around another light, a silvery light orange-green that seemed weak. Her fingers still felt the solid turnip, but she couldn't see it anymore. She didn't drag her eyes away to see Jack's reaction, too sucked into the strangeness of what she could sense was a soul. A being.

The voice was soft and somewhat young, but not a child. It was female, probably. Anna needed to hear it speak more, to know for sure.

"Who are you?" The voice asked. "I've never seen you in these woods."

"I'm… not from here," Anna said. "Who are you?"

"I can't remember my name," the voice said bitterly. It was definitely a female voice. "Did you die recently or are you Fae or a devil?" There was a clear suspicion in her tone.

"None of those," Anna said cautiously, finally glancing up at Jack who was ignoring her, not looking at the smoky mass in her arms at all. "I'm dead, but… it's complicated. I'm from the future. The far future."

It was quiet for a moment and Anna could imagine she heard the barest whisperings of the soul's thoughts, although she couldn't make anything out.

"How can you travel so… far? I've never been able to step out from the trees for… as long as I've been. The man who recognizes you was the first hope of freedom I've ever had. How are you and him able to walk so freely?"

Anna didn't answer immediately. "What do you mean 'free'?"

The voice seemed offended. "You can wander. I've been trapped in this forest for years. When I was a child, I never considered that spirits could never leave wherever they died. And yet you can. How?"

"It's complicated," Annalise said. "I'm not sure how best to explain it. We're spirits… tied to ourselves. Or someplace else that lets us go beyond… territories."

Monsters from Halloween really had an interesting amount of freedom. If they weren't her and didn't have a demonic hit out on them. They were tied to Halloween by the Citizenship thing Jack had dropped on her, or even just existing as part of the holiday being Rogues, supposedly. They could visit other places in the human world relatively easily, as far as she knew. Normal ghosts couldn't do that, right?

"I don't think you get tied to where you die," she said. "It's where or what you have the most emotional connection to, positive or negative I think."

"Hmph," the voice said, but didn't argue against the correction. "I still don't know who you are."

Anna glanced up from the mass to look at Jack. She watched as he struck a piece of iron against a small rock, then cursed when the spark didn't catch on the tinder.

"I'm not really sure either…" Anna mumbled. She nodded to Jack, unsure if the soul could see her. "I'm his… uh… descendant."

There was silence for another beat, and Anna heard the whisperings of thoughts again.

"… What a strange creature to come across my path. Tell me, Spirit, does he keep his promises?"

Anna opened her mouth with ridicule on her tongue, ready to scoff, but she stopped. Had Jack broken any promise? Did she know of any? He made mistakes, practically killed her, and avoided her when he shouldn't have, but had he actually promised her anything?

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "What promises?"

"You should ask him. See how he responds to such an inquisition. Liars and oath breakers are not one and the same always. A man can break an oath by accident because of circumstances beyond his control. But liars mean their malice, making and breaking oaths with intention from the beginning. So is Jack a liar or an oath breaker? Tell me, grandchild of his. What do your histories say of your ancestor? Surely you know if you come from the future to torment him."

"Am I tormenting him?" Anna asked, rolling her eyes.

"I could sense his stress when he saw you."

Jack glanced at her when she made a small snort. He stared for a moment before looking back at the sad pile of wood in disdain. He gave up with the flint and steel and with a quick breath grabbed a stick. Nothing happened for a moment before there was a crack and pop. Black and orange flames burst from the stick before settling into orange as Jack hurriedly built the logs around the burning stick until the other sticks caught. He shook his hand. Did that burn him?

The minor explosion seemed a little uncontrolled. It reminded Anna of her earlier attempts at controlling her fire abilities. She exploded one of Helgamine's favorite candles.

"He's a trickster," Anna whispered, hoping Jack wasn't listening but figuring he probably could hear her easily. "A liar when it suits him, I think. But he…" She shifted. "He cares. I think he means well, but he's selfish. He cared about his family at least, but it cost me my life. That angers me. I don't want to call him a good or bad man."

Jack was definitely listening. His movements slowed as she spoke.

"What did he promise you?" Anna asked.

"A home. Not Heaven or Hell, because he says he's unsure about me, but a place. A community for lost souls like myself, eeking through their days on the backs of human fear. He said it is not an easy existence and the ruler of the place is an, in his words, 'a dangerous, childish, and unlikable mockery of a fool," but that a good number of the citizens of this place care for their brethren. It's a better life than one of emptiness and loneliness and no purpose and I wonder if I agree."

Anna was back to staring at the soul in the lantern as the words clicked through. "Jack brings souls to Halloween?!" she blurted aloud before thinking.

Jack turned, blatant with his staring now and looking very confused.

"That's an unfamiliar word."

Jack came over now. "The place I'm taking ye to has no name, not anymore." He glanced away from a moment, and Anna wondered what he was remembering. "What is Halloween?"

Anna looked up at him, noting just how tall he was standing over her with his curious but reserved gaze. "A holiday," she answered, shocked Chakis hadn't locked the words away behind her teeth.

Jack was silent, but his eyes went distant and he raised his hand to his chin in thought. "No one's seen fit to name the place as such… however…" He mumbled something.

"What is he saying?"

"What are you saying?" Anna asked.

Jack looked back at them before crouching down and gazing at the lantern. "I said that you would be relatively free to travel between this world and that when you become part of that place. However, the most freedom occurs during the nights of the Samhain festival. Doorways open then. Many of them."

"A pagan festival."

Jack somehow looked both apologetic and irritated at once. "Miss, you are certainly not in a position to judge 'us pagans'."

"I grant you that," the voice said. "This ability to travel between worlds. Is there a limit to where I might go?"

"You've asked me this before, and I will provide the same answer. Some. I can explain what I can when we arrive."

"Therein lies the rub," the voice said irritably. "I must know if this is worth it. Spirit, have you words to offer?"

"Me?" Anna asked. "I'm not sure. I mean… there are Gateways. I know monsters… uh… beings use them to travel, but they kinda have to know where they're going. They need an anchor of some sort."

Jack gestured for the lantern back and Anna obliged with a quick "sorry" to the voice as hostility built in the emotions Anna could sense.

"How'd she get in…." Anna gestured at the turnip as the voice faded from her mind when she was no longer touching the turnip. "In there."

"I put her there," Jack said, sitting across the small clearing with the fire between them. "It's the only way I can bring a soul with me." His sockets were cautious as he explained. "It can trap souls. Sever them from whatever ties they have to a place or a person. Or their body." His voice dipped. "Tell no one of this, Spirit."

Anna crossed her arms and leaned against the felled tree. "You trust me?"

"I trust ye not to tell anyone. The later version of ye I've met before knew not to reveal the secret, and I appreciate the trust. Ye art not her yet, but I've taken risks before."

Anna didn't have a response to that. She nodded slowly while Jack didn't break "eye" contact until she did.

He nodded back.

"Why did you make a fire anyway," Anna asked, eyeing the glow and reflection on the white snow but eerily not feeling a lot of warmth.

"Less dreary."

"… hm." Anna watched as Jack dug around in a small satchel. "That soul. Do you know her name?"

Jack pulled out a rough-looking pipe and a small leather pouch. "Maybe, but I encourage her to choose a name for herself or decide whether to take on the stories she carries."

"You know her story?"

"I do. It's how I found her, overhearing the legends whispered by mothers warning their babes to not wander off into the woods—lest they be snatched away and eaten by a crying woman."

Familiarity itched.

"Did she… did she tell you some of the rest of her story?"

"Some. Her memories are addled by years and pain." He lit the pipe with a small stick from the fire instead of using his powers. He relaxed a little as smoke puffed out through his sockets. It looked ridiculous.

Anna saw for the first time how tense he really was.

His gaze never left her and when they did, he was glancing around the woods, between gaps in the trees.

Anna nodded at him. "Does smoking even work?" She never saw him smoke in Halloween and there had never been a scent of tobacco in the manor in the times she visited.

Jack chuckled around the pipe. "No. I pretend it does." He took it out and offered it with a questioning look, sitting up.

I'm dead already, Anna shrugged. She came around the fire and took the pipe, inhaling once.

Jack looked like he was stifling his laughs as she immediately started coughing. His eyes flicked to the fire as it jumped at her convulsions.

"I don't even… have lungs," she coughed, smacking her lips at the taste and shoving the pipe back at Jack who chuckled as she scooted further away again. "Working lungs." She rubbed her chest uncomfortably, feeling skin peel a little under the sparse fabric she had.

Jack let me smoke. I wonder if I can mess with him about this. Blackmail?

"What…" Anna coughed again. "What is her story?"

Jack frowned. "I'll let her tell ye. When she's a little calmer." He peered at the lantern. "I upset her. I can't give her clear hope."

"Hope?"

"I can't promise her the land I'm taking her to will help her goals. And I've told her this. But I can't make promises I'm not sure I can keep. She's welcome to leave my care any time she wishes. However, she's remained with me for several days."

"What's her goal?"

"She may tell you."

Anna huffed and stood up to move back toward the fallen tree, leaning against it.

"Please, rest," Jack said.

"Why do we need to sleep? We're dead."

Jack sighed and Anna watched something in him snap. "Cease your chatter and angry questions and leave me in peace for at least an hour, Spirit. My head aches and a quiet mind does wonders. Ye should try as such sometime."

Anna, shocked by the bluntness, didn't answer. She stared at the fired and sunk into the snow, mesmerized by the flames while trying to sort her thoughts and questions.

The lantern flickered as the two skeletons drifted to sleep in the snow, and a dark shadow darted between the trees.