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“You idiot Skullstalker,” she whispered.

She turned to address the waiting crowd. First, she would talk to her old town. Then she would return to the void.

Hervoid. If she was lucky.

Twenty

Slate stared down at his forest nest, his fists clenched.

His claws dug into his skin. He ignored them. What was a little more blood? He would clean himself up later, but for now, he wanted…

Hewanted…

Slate growled, stalking around his nest angrily. Hewantedhis witch. But failing that, he wanted to collapse into his nest and sleep for a hundred years. He could even do that without risking Ruby dying while he slept, now that she was a god.

Half-god. Whatever Ruby was, she would last more than a puny eighty years. And she would have a wonderful time in that squalid little town, where the people finally treated her like she deserved.

He reared his fist back, about to punch through a tree.

Then he paused.

Something had changed since he had appeared in his realm. He had been so busy grinding his fangs about Ruby that he hadn’t noticed what it was. Now it was finally setting in.

“Would you look at that,” came a familiar voice. “It’s dark! I thought it would be evening for the next century, at least.”

“It was dark before,” Slate replied. He turned grudgingly to see Paimon, or at least, the simplified shadow of him, sitting on a nearby rock.

The dog spirit jumped down, tail wagging lazily. “It wasalmostdark. Now it isproperlydark. Night has fallen in the Bygone void once again.”

“I don’t even know where that stupid name came from,” Slate said bitterly.

The dog spirit let out a knowing rumble. “You slept for many generations. Mortals make up all sorts of stories.”

He leaped up on Slate’s nest, ignoring his glare.

“I must say,” the dog spirit continued, pawing at the shredded fur lining the nest. “That worked out better than I intended. Now if you don’t mind, I will go back to simply being a dog spirit now.”

Slate thought about arguing. But he had never been able to talk Paimon out of anything. If the old goat’s mind was made up, that was the end of that.

“Do whatever you wish,” he said quietly.

The dog spirit laid his head on his paws. “Goodbye, old friend. I had such fun.”

Between one blink and the next, something crucial sparked out of its eyes. The dog spirit snuggled further into the nest, utterly content.

Slate watched the spirit angrily. He wanted to howl, to run through the woods until he couldn’t feel his legs. He wanted to talk to his friend, but everyone was gone from him now.

He sat down resentfully in the nest next to the snoring dog spirit. Then he curled up, thinking of the dress Ruby had left behind.

He would find it for his nest. He needed something to remember her by, even if it would inevitably lose her scent.

Slate looked up at the never-ending forest. He had been alone for a long time, but he had never been so lonely until that moment.

A loud rip made him startle. His claws shot out and he rose, only to stare as he watched a familiar shadow-clad leg appear through a glowing portal.

“Still not as easy as it should be,” Ruby Waterstone announced as she emerged into his void.

The dog spirit stood, shaking its head in annoyance at the loud noise.