Chapter 46
The path twisted through dead woods and broken stone.
Edgar led the way, boots crunching over frost-cracked earth, eyes fixed on the faint marks Sebastian had left behind — a scuffed footprint here, a smear of blood along a branch there, the faintest pulse of magic in the air.
He could feel it.
Like a thread tied to his heart, pulling him forward.
“Still think you’re chasing a ghost?” Seraphine asked, walking beside Magnet Man, pistols holstered but hands never far from them.
Magnet Man grunted.
“Ghost or not, something’s drawing us west.”
The Professor, hunched under his cloak, murmured faint incantations, fingers glowing with light.
“There’s a presence following these paths,” he said softly. “Older than the Fang. Older than the Deep One.”
Edgar didn’t look back.
“We keep moving.”
By nightfall, they reached the village.
Or what was left of it.