They fought back just as viciously, now ignoring Dagon’s order not to kill me. They even used the same method I had and tore bones off their dead companions for weapons. I was slashed, stabbed and sliced countless times, then healed only to have it happen again. Adrenaline, determination, and fury numbed most of the pain. The rest made me stagger as I tried to force them back far enough so I could fly away. Above all, I protected my eyes. Everything else, I could heal or come back from. I still didn’t want to test the theory that I couldn’t come back from that.

The demons around me were suddenly flung aside so hard, many landed on their asses. My brief exultation vanished when I saw why. Two filmy forms streaked toward me. Icy power burst from them with such tremendous force, it cleared everything in their path. Oh, fuuuuck! was my single thought. Then the wraiths made from Fenkir and Rani’s bones ripped into me.

Time evaporated. So did distinct sensations. I didn’t have separate body parts like two arms, two legs, a torso and a head anymore. Instead, I was one exposed nerve that was being endlessly shredded, scorched with icy fire and shredded again.

Then that unbelievable agony vanished. I came to, gasping—gasping!—while healing from wounds that had left no marks. Almost tentatively, a black-haired demon stepped out from the group that had gathered a few meters away, watching me. Then a shrill scream yanked everyone’s attention upward.

Ian floated near the top of the wooden roller coaster. His arms were raised above his head and blood poured from his mouth and eyes. But he wasn’t the one screaming. It was Dagon, because the two wraiths were now tearing into him.

Holy and unholy gods, Ian had actually done it! I hadn’t known wraiths could be redirected from the person who murdered them to someone else. Now, I was seeing it with my own eyes. The demons seemed transfixed by it, too. They watched as the wraiths stabbed their bodies through Dagon in endless loops that had the demon convulsing so hard, his arms and legs broke.

So that’s what they’d been doing to me, I thought numbly, almost pitying Dagon the horrifying pain. Almost.

Then Ian’s hands moved, the gestures too fast to track. The wraiths began carrying Dagon toward the roller coaster. As if that broke the trance, the dark-haired demon resumed his path toward me, but he kept glancing up. Clearly, he’d rather keep staring at what was happening to Dagon than try to kill me, but he kept coming for me nonetheless.

I attempted to fly away, cursing when I couldn’t. The wraiths’ attack must’ve taken too much out of me. It took all my effort to scrounge around for more demon bone. I must have lost mine when the wraiths ripped through me. If I didn’t find some, I’d be in trouble. Soon, more demons would get back to trying to kill me, once they stopped watching the wraiths and Dagon.

I’d grabbed a handful of what looked like half-crushed shin bones before throwing them away when they folded, too broken to be lethal. Then, incredibly, I saw my demon-bone knife a few meters away, the gleam from its steel-reinforced back practically winking at me in the moonlight. One of the demons must have torn it free from my pocket while fighting me. Instead of picking it up, he had left the knife on the ground.

I lunged for it right as the black-haired demon coming after me saw it, too. Both of us scrambled to grab the knife. It skidded out of our grasp as our struggles knocked it away.

“Now!” Ian’s shout jerked my head up. “Detonate, detonate!”

I shoved the demon off me to grab the bulky object in the pocket of my cargo pants. Another demon jumped on my back, tearing into me with something that burned as if I was being splashed with acid. I didn’t defend myself, keeping my focus on pressing every part of the detonator within my pocket. It felt broken from the various fights. I wasn’t sure if it still worked, but I had to try. After a few frantic seconds, I felt a dip in the metal and pushed inward, hard.

Explosions rocked the roller coaster as our salt bombs went off. There were so many, they turned the air white. We’d also spelled them to increase their distance and velocity. Dagon’s new shriek when salt blasted into him was sweet music. More salt bombs near the roller coaster’s base shot out far enough to strafe the demons surrounding me. Their screams soon drowned out Dagon’s. I took advantage of their writhing to force myself free and grab my bone knife. I still couldn’t fly, but I managed several jumps as the wooden skeleton of the roller coaster toppled over, the base crumbling with the detonation.

“Bone knife!” Ian shouted. “Now!”

I had one, but how was I going to get it to him? I still couldn’t fly! But even scalded all over with salt while being strafed with wraiths, Dagon had started to struggle. I had no idea how he managed it. He must be far, far stronger than I’d realized. Ian had clearly used everything he had to wield the grave magic enough to do the unthinkable and force the wraiths off me and onto Dagon. Now, he looked as if he couldn’t hold himself aloft in the sky much longer.

“Hold on!” I shouted back. “I’m coming!”

I pulled extra energy from the only water source I could find: a left-over sewer tank buried beneath the park. It didn’t have much in it, but I took everything. Then I flung myself into the air without knowing if I’d rise or splat to the ground.

I rose. Ian let out a roar when he saw it. Then he managed to fly over to Dagon and get so close, the wraiths’ carnage tore into him, too. Right as I reached them, he flipped Dagon over so the demon was facing me.

Dagon’s screams were white noise. All I was focused on was his eyes. I hit one at full force, my momentum driving the bone knife deep into his skull. His shriek ruptured my eardrums, causing instant deafness. I ripped the knife out and rammed it into Dagon’s other eye without hearing his new scream. Smoke burst from that, too, and I saw rather than heard Ian’s shout.

Then Ian’s arms fell away, and he dropped from the air. Dagon dropped, too, both eyes still smoking as he hit the ground very near to Ian. Both men hit hard and didn’t move. Then light burst from Dagon, and the wraiths disappeared. His body also began shrinking into itself, proving he was finally, truly dead.

I couldn’t celebrate. I was too worried about Ian. I flew down, landing hard enough to crack the ground next to him. Then I touched Ian’s back. He wasn’t moving. I was struck with fear over what I’d find when I turned him over. He’d landed on his stomach, his arm flung over the part of his face that wasn’t pressed into the concrete. He felt cold, gods, so cold! What if Dagon had done something as a final, cruel taunt? What if he’d spelled himself so that if he died, Ian died, too?

“Ian.” I ran my hand along his back, gulping when he didn’t move or speak. “Ian, wake up!”

He rolled over and my heart jumped as if struck with a thousand volts. Then he sat up, his forearm still pressed against his forehead. “Remind me never to attempt grave magic again,” he moaned. “That hurt too much even for me to enjoy.”

I grasped his free hand and pressed it to my chest. I would’ve hugged him, but I was afraid that would cause him more pain. “You’re really okay?”

What a stupid question. He’d just said he wasn’t. But I needed to hear his voice again, even if it was only to answer my ridiculous query. What I should be doing is finishing off the rest of the demons before they ceased being incapacitated from the salt bombs. Not sitting here clutching Ian’s hand while unable to look away from his face.