“It’s not that bad,” he soothes. He starts moving forward but stops short when I hold up a hand to push him away. “Not that different from the compass, and you survived that. Just until the magic can be undone.”

The pain behind my eyes sharpens. This can’t be happening. There’s still the lack of treasure, still Isolde’s broken ankle, still my own magic and Raze’s aunt and the missing Destiny and—

“So it can be undone?” I’m shocked at how calm my voice sounds. I must be more overwhelmed than I thought.

“It shouldn’t take long to figure out a way,” Gossamer says. This time, when he takes a cautious step forward, I let him. I wonder, if I reached out, would my hand pass straight through him? He’s not really here. I might as well be imagining him. “But you were looking for treasure first, weren’t you? I could take you to it. Books talk, and I’ve been in this library a long time. I know lots of things.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before sweeping past me. It’s weird, watching him pass without feeling the movement.

I hurry to follow.

Following Gossamer is like following the enchantment that brought me to the room with the statue. I’m breathless and light-headed, dashing to keep up, chasing the disappearing wisps of white around corners and down long hallways. His steps don’t make a sound—of course they don’t—but mine all run together, like rain.

He stops so suddenly that I run into him. At least, I would if he had any substance. As it is, I run straight through him and gasp so hard I choke. I wrap my arms around myself against the cold, turning over my shoulder. “Why—?”

Gossamer holds up a finger to stop me. His head is tilted, looking alert into the distance. Listening.

I listen, too. It’s as quiet and still as the rest of the library. Even the stirring of the wind seems to have died out.

Then I hear a sob.

I look around wildly, forgetting everything else. We’re standing in the space between the high, arched openings to several rooms, and in one of them, someone is crying.

“Raze?” I don’t dare to raise my voice.

No response.

My skin crawls. It seems impossible that there could be another person here, but I know what I heard. Something is wrong here, very wrong. Still, I can’t just ignore it.

I turn my back on Gossamer, running to the sound of sobbing.

I follow the sound into the darkest room. The windows are covered, shrouding the whole area in gray. I run to the shadows, not knowing why or what I’m going to find.

What I see when my eyes adjust makes me stop so suddenly I fall to my knees. The dark room is full of people—at least, it had been, once.

They’re all dead now.

Draped half-standing at awkward angles over tables, sprawled in puddles of blood on the floor, slumped in chairs. I scan the faces for Raze, for a flash of red hair, but I see none. At least I think he was spared.