“Eww,” Jacob says, shaking out his fingers. “So gross.”

Lara and I only laugh as the Axeman fades and disappears. It feels good, getting back to normal. Or at least, our version of it.

We cross back through the Veil, a brief moment of cold, quickly replaced by summer sun.

Jacob looks down at himself and sighs, clearly disappointed by his transparency.

“Translucency,” he mutters as we make our way back across the square.

But when Café du Monde comes into sight, I slow down.

“Lara,” I say, afraid to ask, “we killed the Emissary, right?”

I mean, it went over the side of the bridge. We saw it fall. There was no place below, nothing but mist. And yet, I’m not surprised when Lara shakes his head.

“I don’t think you can kill something like that,” she says. “I don’t think they can die.”

I bite my lip. “But it’s gone, right? I mean, it’s not still coming after us.”

“Yes,” she says, “according to Renée, that one should be gone.”

“That one,” I echo.

She sighs, turning toward me. “I don’t think it’s a one-time thing, Cassidy. Eventually, another Emissary will notice you. Or me. Eventually, it will come back and try again. That’s what Death does.” I sag a little at the thought, feeling hopeless. But Lara doesn’t seem discouraged, only determined. “That’s what it means to be alive. Every day, whether you’re a regular person or an in-betweener. You run as long as you can, but Death always catches up.”

Jacob shivers. “Great pep talk.”

But Lara shakes her head. “I’ve never met anyone who outran Death forever. And I’ve never met anyone who truly wanted to.” She takes me by the shoulders. “So yes, Death will come for us again, one way or another. We can’t live in fear of it. That’s no way to live at all.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When we get back to the café, the plates have been cleared, the bill paid. Everyone is packing up, as if ready to go. Jenna and Adan are the first to leave. Adan ruffles my hair and offers a rare smile. Jenna unhooks one of the many chains around her neck and offers it to me. The charm on the end is a tiny silver skull.

“Something to remember New Orleans by,” she says, as if I could possibly forget.

They wave, and wish us luck, and then the pair drift away across the square.

Philippa looks around cheerfully.

“Any plans for the day?” she asks. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Lara clears her throat. “Aunt Philly,” she says. “I have a flight to catch, remember?”

“Oh yes, that …” Philippa looks at her wrist, even though she’s not wearing a watch. “Your parents, the plane, of course. We should be going?” The sentence ticks up at the end, into a question.