“Of course it isn’t,” the girl addressed as Eliza replied with a nod. “He’s Toledo. One of us. And few of us are left.”

“Wanted to talk to a stiff,” declared a dwarf with buck teeth, appearing out of nowhere. He was as plump as a pumpkin, his bare belly shining beneath a short, frayed waistcoat.

“Wanted to talk to a stiff,” he repeated. “With his brother, what’s buried here. Wanted answers to his questions. But he didn’t get any.”

“Then it behoves us to help,” said Eliza.

“It does,” said the skeleton.

“Sure,” croaked the frog.

Lightning flashed; thunder boomed. A wind sprang up, whispered in the dried stalks, whipping and spinning clouds of dry leaves. Without hesitation, Eliza crossed the salt and shoved Reynevan hard in the chest. He fell over onto the grave, banging the back of his head on the cross. He saw stars, then everything went dark, then saw flashes again, but this time from the lightning. The earth beneath him trembled and whirled around. Two rings of shadowy, dancing shapes cavorted, spinning in opposite directions around Peterlin’s grave.

“Barbelo, Hekate, Holda!”

“Magna Mater!”

“Eia!”

The ground beneath him rocked and tipped so steeply that Reynevan had to spread out his arms to stop himself from sliding as his feet scrabbled vainly for purchase. But he didn’t fall. Sounds and singing filled his ears. Apparitions filled his eyes.

“Veni, veni, venias,”

ne me mori, ne me mori facias!

Hyrca! Hyrce! Nazaza!

Trillirivos! Trillirivos! Trillirivos!

Adsumus, says Percival, kneeling before the Holy Grail. Adsumus, repeats Moses, stooped beneath the weight of the stone tablets brought down from Sinai. Adsumus, says Jesus, falling beneath the weight of the cross. Adsumus, repeat the knights gathered around the table with one voice. Adsumus! Adsumus! We are here, O Lord, gathered in Your name.

An echo runs through the castle like booming thunder, like the sound of a distant battle, like the thudding of a battering ram against a castle gate. And slowly vanishes among the dark corridors.

“Viator, the Wanderer, will come,” says a young girl with a vulpine face and dark circles under her eyes, adorned in a garland of verbena and clover. “Someone departs, someone comes. Apage! Flumen immundissimum, draco maleficus… Ask not after my name, it is secret. Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness. And who is to blame? The one who will tell the truth.