“I cheated death once,” he said, and his hand rested on the knee connected to the prosthetic leg. “Dug where I shouldn’t have, late at night, when I shouldn’t have. I disturbed something. The arms came out and tried to drag me in. I stabbed them with the shovel and got away, but lost the leg for it. And they’ve never forgotten.”

“Which is why you don’t leave the driveway,” she murmured.

“They got a taste of me when they took my leg and now they’re waiting to finish the job, whether the curse is active or not. They can’t reach through compacted soil. Only the soft parts.” His broad shoulders rose in a slight shrug. “It’s usually safe during the day too, but I don’t take chances. I’m not as young as I was back then.”

“Will they do that to anyone else? Should I stay on the drive too?”

“No. You’re fine to walk on soft ground. This is something different from the curse we’re all under. I provoked them, and they put a mark on me for it. That happens sometimes. You’ll know if it does.”

Margot let her eyes close as she bent forward and rubbed the stiff muscles at the back of her neck. At that moment, the exhaustion felt like it would never abate.

Something pressed against her hand, and Margot flinched, her eyes snapping open. It was Marsh. He’d come out from his nap under the table and nudged his muzzle into her hand. She ran her fingers through his fur. It was flecked with mud and decaying leaves, but he’d made it through the night unscathed—something she was overwhelmingly grateful for.

The door creaked as it opened. Andrew had brought three hot cups, balanced precariously, and passed them out. Kant murmured gratefully as he took his. Margot accepted her own mug of coffee and stared into her distorted, fractured reflection.

“Last night was the worst I’ve seen it,” Kant said. “It will get better. Easier. Most of the time, you can forget the curse even exists.”

They kept promising her that, as though it was supposed to give her hope. Margot smiled, even though she felt like she was going to cry.

“Witchety’s coming later to pick up Marsh,” Andrew said. “I asked her for another blessing. For all the good it did last night, it’s still the best help we have.”

“Good.” Margot lifted the coffee to her mouth. It scorched on the way down, but she welcomed the heat. Not even the sun had been able to abate the chill that had settled into her core.

Kant thinks it will have spent itself last night. I truly can’t imagine how it would get worse.