Page 25 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

But she blinks at Chloe, her face pale, before jerking at her arm again, tugging her up.

Chloe scrambles up, tossing a glance over her shoulder at the jeep, but both the other magicians are approaching it, weapons out.

The small Wight—Stella?—tugs her arm again, so Chloe inhales, then follows, her footsteps faltering, as they plunge deeper into the forest, deep between the trees, in the places so full of roots and moss Chloe never fully explored.

But the child’s path is sure, like she’s crawled over the trees many times in her life, and her grip on Chloe’s wrist remains.

“Where—” Chloe begins with a whisper, but in the dim light she gets a glimpse of Stella lifting a finger to her lips.

And…and Chloe had helped save the child, back in Toronto, so now…now she has to trust her? Trust that she’s taking her somewhere safe? Trust that she won’t drop Chloe off in a hole in the middle of the forest, leave her behind for more people to find, lead her right to the demon…

Though if the demon has her research, it might not be the worst.

Behind them, even though the cabin has been removed from her view, the jeep wails again, and the two magicians yell, unintelligible, before between one step and the next, an older woman with wiry gray hair appears, giving Chloe an appraising glance in the low light.

Chloe almost stumbles again at the sudden appearance.

“They won’t follow us now,” the woman says, and her appearance wriggles under Chloe’s recognition. “Though you should pick up your speed.”

She gives a kind nod to Stella, like she’s affirming something, and the tilt of her chin is similar to the child’s.

Oh.

Chloe had only seen her face once before, back in the cabin when they had first discovered what Delina was, and only for a few seconds. She’s another Wight, the one native to the forest around the cabin, and the only reason why they were able to make it out of Toronto at all.

“Hi,” Chloe says, lame.

7

They lead her past the ruined tatters of Chloe’s old demon circle to a rock outcropping, then duck down in between two boulders, leading her to a crevasse before a set of stairs in the stones, then deeper into a proper cave.

It’s clean, tidy, with a threadbare couch and a table just barely big enough for two. A single twin bed is crammed into a corner, and down a meager hall is another.

The floor is swept, the room is well lit from a sconce on the wall that’s absolutely not connected to any electricity, and a stove with an actual spot for a wood fire is tucked against a wall.

And the floors are hewn precisely from the same stone, with a beauty that suggests time and power and care.

Stella gives one glance to Chloe, then disappears, reappearing next to the cupboard in the kitchen.

“Uh,” Chloe begins, once the older Wight makes no more attempts to talk. “Thanks?”

“Why did a demon teleport in our territory?” she says, and Stella throws a glance back at her, like she’s gauging the response.

“You know, your guess is as good as mine,” Chloe says, then rubs her face. “He knocked me out, stole my research, and…left me here. I was in northern Canada one moment, then back…back in my bed.”

Her bed—the one she hadn’t slept in for well over a month and missed dearly.

The Wight gave her an unimpressed look, and Chloe is immediately reminded about how Ambra really doesn’t like dealing with the Wights, complaining about them being annoying and completely stuck in themselves.

“We don’t want him in our territory,” the Wight says, but milder this time. “You see him again, tell him to stay out.”

“Uh,” Chloe starts. “Sure, do you have a phone?”

Again, another unimpressed look.

“He stole mine,” she says, and this time, the Wight’s brows raise. “And I bet my friends are worried.”

“I can get a message to Zoel,” the Wight says, neutral. “And he can inform Ambra.”

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