The Ghost’s blood poured hot over his hand. Her lips parted and her eyes widened, and she stumbled a little, held up by his hand on her throat and his knife piercing her lung under her ribs.

Her expression changed from shock to rage. Her white brows furrowed. Her lips curled back in a grimace and she bared her teeth. “You will regret this, witch hunter,” she rasped, steadily holding his gaze.

And he pushed her through the jagged hole in the collapsed roof, sending her crashing over rafters and rubble. She sent up a plume of dust as she fell.

Wil stepped forward to peer down at her. The Ghost’s body lay crumpled amidst the debris, her front dark and wet with blood that dripped over the crumbled roof tiles and broken wooden beams. She wasn’t moving.

He peered down at the Solis in his hand. It was small in his broad palm, its jagged edges glowing pale gold. It was warm, seeming to buzz with energy. Wil’s heart drummed in his chest.

He shook his head, ignoring the strange tug he felt from the Solis, and stuffed it into his pocket. He wiped his dirk clean on the sleeve of his jacket and sheathed it at his hip, and collected his sword from the rooftop.

Wil tugged his hood up over his head and turned away toward the palace, leaving the Ghost’s lifeblood to leak over the broken rubble.

The king and queen were waiting for Wil in the study, having heard of his success against the Ghost. Lysander turned as Wil opened the door and stepped inside.

“You did it?”

Wil nodded. Took me a little while to find her, but yes.

“What of the witch?” Natalia asked.

She’s dead.

Lysander smiled. His eyes glittered as he stepped forward and embraced Wil.

He stiffened under his father's touch for a moment as his arms encircled him, but Wil relaxed into the embrace, returning it by winding his arms around Lysander’s shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time Lysander hugged him. Tears prickled at his eyes and he blinked them back.

Natalia smiled warmly. “This is wonderful news, dear,” she said.

Lysander pulled away, keeping his hands on Wil’s shoulders. “And the Solis? Do you have it?” he asked earnestly.

Wil nodded and withdrew it from his pocket. He ignored the hum-buzz in the stone as he handed it over to the king.

“Finally,” he breathed. Something hungry glinted in his eyes, and Wil’s gut fluttered with nerves.

The queen touched a hand to Lysander’s shoulder. “We should celebrate,” she said. She looked to Wil. “Join us for dinner tomorrow night.”

Wil smiled, his nervousness forgotten with his mother’s smile. I will.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Wil. When she pulled away, she said, “We’re so proud of you.”

Wil grinned as pride swelled in his chest. He had done it. The Ghost was gone. She was no longer his problem, and the Artifacts were safe from the witches.

Wil was still buoyed on his success when he entered the Grinning Fox. He found Dixon at their usual table, already with a pair of ales. Wil smiled as he sat across from Dixon.

Thank you again, Wil signed. I couldn’t have done this without you.

Dixon shook his head. “Dinnae fash,” he said. “What kinda Whisper would I be if I didnae help my Edge as much as possible?”

Wil smiled. I hope you’re paying your birds well.

“Aye,” Dixon laughed. “They’ll be fat and happy for weeks.”

Wil chuckled and raised his ale to tap it against his friend’s. They drank heartily.

“So,” Dixon began. “How did ye do it?”

Do what?

“What do ye think? Kill the Ghost.”

I followed the trail you found. She was in the slums, like you said. Wil recounted a summary of the fight, describing what happened.

“And the stone?” Dixon asked. “What was it like?”

Wil raised a brow. What do you mean?

“To hold the Solis in yer hand. That kinda power… what did it feel like?”

Wil shrugged. Weird.

Dixon sighed. “I’ve always wanted to know what magic feels like.”

Magic is inhuman, you know that. I’m perfectly happy being human.

“Half human.”

Stop.

Dixon’s mouth quirked. “Ye cannae tell me ye weren’t tempted by it. The Artifacts are powerful things,” he said. “Ye mean to tell me it didnae make ye feel… good? Alive?”

Wil narrowed his eyes. Where’s all this coming from?

“Curiosity, is all.”

Wil breathed a sigh. It was… like waking up in the morning. The stone felt like it was alive somehow, and it buzzed with energy. When I held it in my hand, it felt like it was reaching for something inside of me, drawing energy to the surface of my skin. I thought I knew what being alive felt like, but this was… different. More.

Dixon’s eyes were wide with awe. “That’s incredible,” he said. His face broke into a grin. “I didnae ken ye were a poet, mate. Will ye recite me a ballad?”

Wil laughed soundlessly and flipped Dixon his middle finger as he raised his ale to his mouth.