The renewal of her terror told me who—what—it must be. Raising Valor’s saber, I whirled on my enemy, but only just in time to allow his gloved hand to close over Valor’s mask.

THIRTY-NINE

Stephanie

“Erik!” I shrieked, darting forward to latch on to the attacking arm of the crimson-clad figure from my sister’s drawing. In the same motion in which he ripped Erik’s mask free, though, he, Zedok, flung me off.

The force of the throw sent me reeling. I met the floor hands-first, my hair falling forward to obscure my view.

Even in the darkness, though, I had seen a portion of his face. Erik’s.

Just the sliver of a glimpse was all I’d caught. A blur of grayish-yellow. Parchment-colored skin stretched over a jutting cheekbone.

It was true, then. The story. The legend of Erik’s walking corpse.

A shadow fell over me, its edges encompassing the place where I half lay, half knelt on the beautiful carpet. The merest glance upward showed me that the shadow possessed antlers.

Fumbling to my feet, I lunged for the front door but cried out when a hand stopped me, taking hold of my upper arm. It spun me easily, and that silver skull mask floated nearer, visible through the screen of my tousled curls, its grinning face coming within an inch of mine.

“Did you see?” he demanded, his distorted voice a scarcely contained rattle of rage. “Did you see us?”

Us?

“Let go of me!” I twisted in his grip, hating how small and weak I sounded.

“No? But you wanted to see, did you not?” Zedok asked, cocking his head at me.

I shrieked in protest as he hauled me in front of him. Hooking an arm around my upper body, he forced me to face the hallway and the cloaked figure now kneeling within it.

Erik, his back to us, hood still up, held one hand to his face. The other searched in vain for the mask that did not lie anywhere in the path of his searching fingers.

Because it lay on the floor behind him—between us.

The skull-masked figure moved us forward. I dug my heels into the carpet and skidded, being edged against my will toward the hunched figure.

“Look,” rumbled the voice at my back.

As we drew closer, my gaze fell to the blue-and-gold mask, which stared sightlessly—soullessly—upward.

Though I wasn’t sure how, I was certain that when he got close enough, Zedok would destroy the mask. Crush it underfoot.

“Take a good look at your Erik!” Zedok growled again, his deep and shredded voice curdling my blood.

“Close your eyes, Stephanie,” warned Erik, who kept his back turned to us. “You mustn’t do as he says, or he will have us both.”

I ignored them, keeping my focus on the mask.

“Turn around, Erik,” I called to him.

Erik stiffened at my command, and Zedok laughed, buying me the time I needed.