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Alice shifted her position. She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “No, what?”

“The wedding ring. The destroyed ring. Not because of Elizabeth, but because of you. You saved me from turning into one of those ghouls. The knowledge of you, and you alone, coming to save me. It was you . . . only you. The entire time, I held onto the hope you were coming.”

He moved closer to Alice.

“You were the light in my darkness. My hope in the face of despair. It’s because of you that I’m standing here today.”

He wiped a tear from Alice’s face.

“I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat,” Alice said. “My only thought was getting you back. The only one who loved me for me. The only one I would have given everything to save.”

Hugo chuckled. “The witch and the vampire. Forever.”

“Always,” Alice said.

They embraced once more, a love renewed and eternal. Forever.

Stave Five

THE END OF IT FOR NOW

Trapped

Madeline Sinclair tapped the bronze death mask against her fingertips. Her eyes focused on the open cave before her. Waiting. Hoping. Yet, nothing appeared. There were no signs of the rider. No signs of Hugo or the ferryman, only the brackish water crashing against the sheer rock cliff.

The thunder roared overhead. The storm clouds roiled, more violent and twisted than before. There were no more knocks. The wails of the ghouls were drowned out by the crashing of light littering the landscape. The land, once covered in eternal dusk, was now lit up in a brilliant bluish white light.

Madeline Sinclair focused on the mouth of the cave. Waiting. Hoping.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She glanced down at the bronze visage she held in her hands. The twisted, agonizing face captured perfectly in bronze. The long-forgotten soul offered up to a dark magick which drained them of their essence . . . their being. Her fingers traced the frozen face, committing every ridge to memory. The open mouth screamed for mercy. The frozen eyes pleaded for salvation. She tapped it once more.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Is there enough?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There isn’t enough.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It’ll have to do.

Tap . . . Tap . . .Tap.

A chilly breeze picked up. It ruffled the skirt of her black Edwardian mourning gown, the very dress she had worn every day since she lost her betrothed—a victim of the famous Sinclair curse. She had tried to defeat it. She and her father both did. They tried so desperately to defeat the curse on their family. They scoured every part of the earth searching for anything to help lift the curse.

They thought they had it solved. It seemed so simple. After acquiring a copy of The Book of the Dead, she could use it to her advantage. She would seal away her betrothed where the curse wouldn’t find him. Then she would retrieve him, bring him back. Exactly like what had transpired here moments before.

After being banished to the land of the lost souls, her betrothed could return, and the curse would be broken.

Things weren’t as simple as they seemed. The Oaken King banished her here to suffer the same fate. His trickery offered no bounds. Another reminder of a cruel and uncaring world. She offered her soul, yet she had no gold to buy it back.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

When she arrived, she had faced the ultimate humiliation. Instead of being reunited with her beloved, the land was devoid and empty, except for those few lost souls banished here. The one she sought was nowhere to be found. The ultimate twist of fate. All her work was for naught. He was somewhere else. Banished to another realm, or perhaps worse . . . banished to oblivion.