Soon they came to a wide, frozen river that cut through the Dead City like a scar, and this they crossed along a grand bridge that had tumbled down to the waterline. Ships had lain at anchor when the river froze through, and Bluma couldn’t help but think that the masts, fixed at an unnatural cant, looked like fingers reaching up through the ice. They were halfway up the winding switchbacks of the high hill at the center of the city when Bluma looked behind—just to see the masts once more, just to convince herself that they were still inert and wooden—and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Something had skittered across the road behind them.

“It’s all right,” said Mammon softly. “It’s only a goblin.”

“Only a goblin?” whispered Bluma.

Mammon smiled cruelly. “I can think of many things you would less prefer to stalk you through the Dead City than a little goblin, girl.”

This was not reassuring.

“Perhaps we ought to move a bit faster,” said Bluma, her hand straying to the cold metal in her apron pocket—just for the comfort of knowing it was there.

The structure at the top of the hill seemed by far the oldest portion of the Dead City. There were no houses here, no shops or apartments—only ruins of old, tawny stone.

With difficulty, Yehuda Leib managed to rumble the pram up the huge, crumbling stairs that led into the courtyard, eerie and silent beneath its wide blanket of snow.

“Yes,” said Mammon, “nearly there.” And with a knobbly finger, he pointed at a monumental heap of rubble at the center of the courtyard.

“Inside,” he said.

“Are you sure?” said Yehuda Leib, breathing hard. There didn’t seem to be much room to maneuver.

“Positive,” said Mammon. “In!”

It should’ve been dark as the grave within the fallen structure, but somehow—and for the first time anywhere in the Dead City—warm, jumping candlelight seemed to illuminate the rocky chamber. But there was no candle here, no lantern, no hearth. All there was within the little sanctum was an empty doorway—battered posts and a lintel—that framed Nothing at All.

Only the rocky wall was visible behind it.

“What is this?” said Yehuda Leib.

“This,” said Mammon, “is the way in.”

“What are you talking about?” said Yehuda Leib. “There’s nothing here!”

He was beginning to fear that this whole misadventure had been a malicious distraction, a wild-goose chase—or, worse, a method of entrapping them with no defenses.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” said Mammon. “Whatever happened to those keen eyes of yours?”

Yehuda Leib shook his head. “I don’t see anything.”

“Would you like a hint?” said Mammon.

Yehuda Leib looked as if he might strangle Mammon, but a cooler head prevailed:

“Please,” said Bluma.

“Around the back,” said Mammon.