Kant wasn’t alone. Andrew jogged behind him, and farther back, two more bodies moved close together, their own lights flitting left and right as they traced the dark shapes clinging to the mist. Nora and Ray.

Kant raised his hand as Margot neared him, his voice hoarse as he called, “Okay?”

“Fine,” she replied, even though she was anything but. “I dropped my phone, that’s all.”

Kant’s light ran over Margot. She could barely make out his features, except that his eyes seemed a shade darker than before. His eyebrows lowered, his jaw twitching.

“The hell,” Andrew muttered from just behind Kant.

Margot looked down at herself, and at the way her body had been painted in red. Blood dripped from her hand. Her hair was a wild mane, matted with the crimson liquid and dirt and cobwebs. She had to look like she’d crawled out of a nightmare. That didn’t feel too far from the truth.

Then Kant said, “Come on,” and extended a hand to encourage her forward. “Back to the path. Night’s almost over.”

She staggered forward, and Andrew took Marsh from her. Nora and Ray hung just behind, their backs rigid, pressed close to each other. A glint of metal hung at Ray’s side, and it took her a second to recognize it. He was carrying a rifle. They’d never experienced the hill at night when the curse was active, Margot realized. They hadn’t yet gotten used to it like Kant had.

In the erratic movements of the flashlight, she saw they were at the driveway. Kant had come within an inch of the edge but refused to step past.

“You don’t like leaving the driveway, do you?” Margot mumbled. Now that she’d become aware of it, she realized the only time she’d seen him step off the track was when he accompanied Witchety on her first blessing.

“Mm.” He placed a careful hand at her back, silently offering her support as she limped. “Soft dirt is dangerous for me. How I lost my leg. Cheated death once, which means now I always have to watch my back.”

“Oh.” Margot squinted, one hand held to the stitch in her side. She felt like she’d been given an explanation, and yet understood nothing.

It could wait. Everything could. She was tired down to her very bones. Her body hurt. Her emotions had been stretched and strained and beaten until she couldn’t feel much at all, just a numb, heavy kind of weariness.

Her experiences from that night would catch up to her later, and she’d have to figure out how to process them. But not yet. She needed warmth first. Rest.