“Yes,” said her alte-bubbe. “I fear that you’re already two-thirds inside Death’s house.”

“Is there no way of getting them back?”

Her alte-bubbe shrugged. “Perhaps. But this I know for certain: you’re going to have to face Death one way or another, whether to reclaim what you’ve given away, or to give away your final third. You can hide for a time, I suppose, but…”

“There’s no running fast enough?” said the Nameless Girl.

“No,” said her alte-bubbe. “There’s no running fast enough.”

“And if I choose to hide, then I do so by giving up who I am.”

“Yes.”

The Nameless Girl gave a deep sigh.

“Then in order to live…”

Her alte-bubbe smiled sadly. “You have to stop trying not to die.”

The Nameless Girl turned to the window. She didn’t want to think about what she had to do.

“Ah, look,” said her alte-bubbe, sidling up next to her. “Lilith’s given up waiting.”

The Nameless Girl peered down through the snow. It was true: the white tigress was gone.

“Very well,” said the Nameless Girl’s alte-bubbe. “Shall we go, then? Together?”

—

“Move aside.”

Yehuda Leib’s eyes snapped open.

A voice had spoken in the corridor.

With a fluttering snap, the flap of the holding cell was lifted. A scrawny, rat-faced demon in uniform stood outside, flanked by two thick guards.

“Oh, for the love of—pick him up!”

The soldiers who had remained to guard Yehuda Leib stood him shakily on his feet. The rat-faced demon made an ostentatious show of brushing the dust from Yehuda Leib’s coat.

“This hardly seems necessary,” the rat-faced demon said, and with a sickly sweet smile, he removed the wad of cloth from Yehuda Leib’s mouth.

Yehuda Leib worked his jaw, trying to comfort the dry ache within.

“You’re not foolish enough to try and run, are you?”

Yehuda Leib shook his head lightly, jostling the tightness in his neck. “No.”

“Good,” said the rat-faced demon. “Then I think we can dispense with all this nonsense.” And, gesturing to the soldiers, he bid them cut Yehuda Leib’s arms free. Yehuda Leib rolled his shoulders and wrists, the sensation slowly returning to his numb limbs.

“There,” said the rat-faced demon, “that’s better,” and, beckoning, he said, “Come with me.”

Yehuda Leib followed him out into the corridor, soldiers and bodyguards falling in behind them.

“I apologize for all that.” Despite his short stature, the rat-faced demon moved at a swift clip, and Yehuda Leib had to trot to keep up. “This is the central castrum of the Army of the Dead. You are here because Lord High General Dumah wishes to speak with you. In just a few moments, I shall present you to the lord high general, and there are a few things you may wish to know before you meet him.”

“I’m sorry,” said Yehuda Leib. “Who are you?”