He takes another step in my direction, and I make a small noise at the back of my throat. Bram’s hand tightens around my shoulder. “Saskia, look at me. He can’t reach you.”

I start to turn toward Bram, when Latham pulls a knife from a sheath at his waist. It looks exactly like the weapon he used to stab my mother. My ears fill with a roaring sound. He spins the knife in the air, catches the handle deftly in his palm. Throws it again.

“How would you like to do this, my dear?” Latham asks. “Any thoughts?”

My mouth goes dry. “How would I like to do what?”

He rolls his eyes, as if I’ve taxed his patience by asking a silly question. “How would you like to die? I could kill each of your friends one by one in front of you. Or I could kill you first so they have the horror of watching you die slowly. Which would be worse for you, I wonder?”

“Bram,” I say softly, “take the others and run.”

I hear movement behind me, but I can’t make myself look away from Latham, who is nearly close enough to touch. I hope they listened to me. I hope they’re getting as far from here as possible.

Latham strides forward and lifts my chin with the tip of the knife. “I heard you visited Avalina,” he says. “A clever idea, but ultimately useless. You can’t run, Saskia. And you’ll never be able to hide well enough that I can’t find you.”

He presses the blade against my throat. I feel a trickle of blood drip toward my collarbone, and tears gather in my eyes. I wanted so badly to get Gran’s and my mother’s bones back. To stop Latham. To make him pay for everything he’s done.

But I failed.

It’s the last thought I have before Latham’s knife slices into my neck and the world goes dark.

Chapter Eighteen

“Saskia, can you hear me?”

The voice sounds faraway. My mind is slow and heavy, as if it’s wrapped in a thick layer of gauze.

A warm palm rests on my cheek. I turn my head and lean closer.

“Saskia?”

My eyes flutter open. Bram’s face hovers above mine, his brows drawn together.

“I’m not dead,” I say.

He gives a tense laugh. “No, you’re not dead.”

“But Latham … he was here. He was about to kill me.”

Bram shakes his head. “It was only an illusion.”

I pull myself into a sitting position. “No, this was different. I didn’t get sucked into a vision. I knew where I was. Latham was here. I’m sure of it.” My voice trembles.

“It only felt real,” Bram says. “Think about it. If he was here, where did he go? He couldn’t have just disappeared.”