By the time I reach the corner, my breath is spent, but that’s not why I stop.

I stop because my ears are ringing with the sound of a hundred calls as Ghosts fill the street, pouring from corners and doorways like gray rats.

The man has loosened his grip on Ettie, who is taking great drags of air and clutching at his arm to keep herself upright. He looks around wildly, not sure whether to push forward or turn another way, but the Ghosts are everywhere now.

They walk with the deliberate shuffle of those who never have to run anywhere. They’re not afraid for Ettie. They don’t have to be. There’s no way the man can escape them. They’re too many, and they know it.

The man’s eyes are bulging like those of a maddened animal. He turns this way and that, finding himself surrounded. Leading the Ghosts is Loup, like a terrible vengeance, fearlessly staring down this man three times his size, because he knows what happens next.

“Au secours!” the man yells in a panic. “Au secours!”

Anyone near enough to hear, and who is not a child of the Miracle Court, turns away. Young boys carrying giant buckets of wash disappear down alleys. Windows that open onto the street close. The City knows when to shut its eyes.

“Quelqu’un! Aidez-moi!” the man cries piteously.

“Let her go,” I say, lunging toward him.

He drops Ettie. She lands in a heap and I rush to her, taking her by the arm and pulling her away; she doesn’t need to see what will happen. The Ghosts part for me, flowing back into place like water once we’ve passed.

“Please!” The man’s eyes are white and wild with fear, his hands raised to fend them off. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

There was once a war between the Guilds. And among those who wrought death and destruction, it was the Ghosts that were the most feared. For theirs is the most populous of all the Guilds, and carries with it a burning belief in the Law. Once roused, their wrath is more terrible than that of all of the other Guilds put together. The stories of how they claimed their victims forever haunt the minds of every child of the Miracle Court.

Loup smiles a wicked smile, and a shiver runs down my spine. “Take him.”

16

The Dead Trial

The Ghosts tumble over themselves to lift the nearest grate in the street, and they descend into the darkness and stink of the city’s sewers. With reluctant hearts, Ettie and I follow.

The city’s great stone-walled sewers are darkness and rot, stained with layers of waste. I breathe in deeply. Most Thieves have had to hide in these slime-covered corridors on bad nights when a burglary went wrong. I’ve learned it’s easier to let the smell burn your throat and bring tears to your eyes than to try to shut it out.

My eyes adjust quickly to the darkness. Eventually we come to a platform of sorts, and spilling off every part of it are the Ghosts. They’re packed into the tunnel, some knee-deep in the stinking waters, waiting.