My lungs burn as we sprint through Wolf's Landing, the ghost floating beside us, humming a distorted version of "Row Your Boat" while Eleanor struggles to keep pace. Snow crunches underfoot, but I barely hear it over my pounding heartbeat.
"Is the hospital far?" Eleanor pants behind me, clutching her journal to her chest like a shield.
"It's right there." I don't slow down, but I do feel bad for the girl.
Still—my mind's focused on Lucas and all the injuries from their fight. Vester didn't give many details, but if they're in the hospital, it can't be good.
The ghost drifts ahead, twirling like a deranged ballerina. "Ring around the roses, pockets full of posies, ashes, ashes, they all fall DOWN!"
He screams the last word, swooping low over two wolves carrying supplies, who flinch despite themselves. They can't touch him, but they sure as hell can see him.
The flying didn't start until we entered Wolf's Landing. He was walking before.
