“A slash from these will weaken a wraith considerably. A knife to the heart will kill it, but too many smaller wounds will just expel it.” Elaine flips the knife back to her palm and holds both up. “Hit them together”—she does, and a pure, melodic sound rings out—“and any wraith nearby will cringe like a dog to a whistle. Weaker ones can be expelled by sound alone.”

“Show-off,” Uncle Roy mutters.

Aunt Elaine glares at him as she hands Colin the blades. “Let’s see what you can do,” she says. She disappears into the kitchen and returns a moment later rolling the kitchen table in front of her.

“It’s my table!” she yells to the house’s groans of complaint.

They turn the table on its side, presenting a large round target. Colin’s throws aren’t terrible, but they aren’t great, and Aunt Elaine has to break it down for him a lot more than Uncle Roy did with his hand-to-hand combat instructions. But eventually, he gets the knives to stick point-first into the table.

I let out a congratulatory whistle, and he grins. “Liam only ever taught me to fight with them,” he says, pulling the knives free of the table. “Throwing is much harder.”

Uncle Roy wipes the sweat from his forehead. “I think that’s enough for today. It’s getting late. We’ll start again first thing tomorrow morning, though.”

Colin marvels at the knives in his hands. “One last thing. Do I just knock them together to make them sing?”

Before anyone answers, he slams the blades together, releasing a booming call. The sound sends shivers down my spine, and Max’s back arches.

Then Colin collapses.

Chapter 13: Colin

Voices echo around me. There’s the sound of clanging swords and the pounding of heavy feet.

“For the king!” rings one voice high above the rest. The language isn’t English, but I still understand it.

I catch glimpses of green and silver, of people wielding long spears and wooden shields. One person in particular stands out, draped in a forest-green cloak with a swirling symbol and leather armor hemmed in gold autumn leaves. He stops, his sword coated in red, and turns to look at me. His eyes are an unnatural emerald green.

When he sees me, his pupils begin spreading, covering the whites of his eyes and leaving nothing but darkness.

Then it all vanishes, and the real world comes flooding back to me. I gasp; my lungs feel like they’re on fire. I try to sit up, but a strong hand pushes me into something soft. I let it, too weak to fight.

My entire body burns, and I feel as if every ounce of energy has been sucked out of me. I just lie there as the colors around me solidify into faces.