THE FIRST TONGUE

where the air itself seemed to rot. The land had no name anymore. Villagers from the nearest se

as q

qu

as trailed slightly behind, studying the old, brittle map they'd recovered from Maro's satchel-ink faded, edges frayed, but the

ut he knew this: what stirred beneath the

rom the muck, its inscription mostly worn smooth by wind and rain. But Clara bru

g inward. The sym

," Elias said

y always leave sig

didn't

press

-

e the trees around them, their branches black and gnarled like skeletal fi

they

hap

awl into its own grave. Ivy curled around the spire. The bell tower lea

hispered. "But some

d-hung half open. Scrape mar

d once. "We

ent

-

hapel was dar

were scorched-scenes of saints and martyrs burned beyond recognition. Only one figure rema

ed here?" Ta

, a voice echoe

. M

Father, for I

hree

tatters, soaked in dried blood. His back was covered in script-carved

s dead," he whispered. "But

rward cautiously

an tu

ith thread the color of rust. B

," he said. "Now I

his sword.

. "For the mouth is op

sed hi

had been repla

t alive. They wriggl

a ga

ar

" Emric w

th

es began

wo

un

chant that filled t

. The very walls began to vibrate. The old wood cr

tar cr

ed in the s

ice-cold, carrying whispers t

op the chant!"

driving his sword t

aughed, blood bubb

ice," he gasped.

s continue

ing made of shifting shadows, bone and ash, with a face that kep

. "We can't kill the ves

she s

ed the map.

Tongue-the language before Babel

free from Emric, who c

we speak bac

ol into the chapel floor-a binding ward he'd seen once in an apocryphal text. Th

ect was

ind s

en fell limp. The being rising from the altar let out a howl of pure ha

the chapel, and th

kne

lln

-

ck into the night, t

e. "That thing... was o

mly. "A Watcher'

ing stronger,

agreed. "An

the chapel. Smoke

be more pl

angerous th

ser to t

-

d): The F

olet, as though something unnatural now throbbed behind the veil of sta

il

m b

ainst his shoulder, silently. Her fingers trembled slightly as s

he muttered. "We're not eq

to him. "Neit

owned.

eir faith for answers. Or power. Or survival. But they aren't pr

now looked less like a place of wors

their language. Their names. They're try

Through us. Thr

Well, we're the right pe

growing sideways over a creek. No fire. No singing. Just silence, and

e road. She'd taken it from Maro's belongings-a con

said, quietly. "Trying to

e replied with

ef until only desperation is left. That's what they feed on. Th

irred. "

sper," she said. "Some

-

ht, Elia

at the thatched rooftops. Annalise stood in the chapel door

er, the shad

dark, its face stitched shut, h

a

is Maro h

th, and a voice c

's r

me hands-dozens-grabbing his legs, drag

pered so

e was in the

s unders

g, sweat freez

arby, watchi

eamed,"

ded. "I h

ask who. She

their language," he sa

a replied. "They won

og, thinking. "Then we

ake. "To what's left of the Churc

s st

l rewrite

-

ght. A mark shifted closer inland-toward the ruins of Ashholt Abbey, once a

he reco

ey were back on the road-mud caking th

d never left. Elias looked back once, toward the broken chapel, an

wat

f

e

hun

-

he trees g

The left trail descended into shadowed woods. The

ot

not

. Heav

l made those?

and brushed asi

he clawprints wa

ma

erlapping. The t

seal,"

his eyes. "We'r

th

be

w. Ringing f

idn't h

t's

-

until the forest fell away, r

olt

ts arched windows shattered like broken eyes. The bell tower still stood, though

s lined the path-old monks and saints, th

age, p

war

cense and mildew. Rats skittered

t-beneath the a

rie

s pulled out. And pinned to hi

nfes

en in

ught they were angels.

led the p

t beside

aid. "Ritual suicide. He

is here. Somewhere below. They al

o under,"

he broken staircas

wn the