Liza charged at the wraiths with the rage of the sun. Duffy saw the effects of her magic before he realised she was there, crackles of lightning and fire swarming around the wraith he danced around. As Leopold and Wainwright pushed one wraith back, the other began to dissipate beneath the onslaught of a woman scorned.

“Flame’s brand burns bright, send the day into the night, crush the ancient and the wicked!” She skidded to a halt, arms waving in a pattern that controlled the prangs of flame and spiralling them around the creature. Each rotation sent the bolts piercing through its body, deep purple and effervescent sparks shot out with each wound.

“Duffy get down!”

Wainwright raced to push the bard out of harm’s way. Leopold’s final two bullets tore the wraith’s skull apart, but the creature, in its death throes, lurched at Duffy with its claws outstretched. Wainwright leapt and crashed into the youth’s shoulder and took both cadre of talons to the chest. As the wraith faded, the leading man’s life force was drained into the aether and a lifeless, pallid corpse crashed backwards and rolled over facedown.

“No…” Liza whispered hoarsely. She shed the magic in her fingers and froze. The cold night air pricked her skin into goose bumps.

“Wainwright!” Leopold appeared by his side and he hesitated. “Wainwright, can you hear me?” He leant slowly and patted his brother on the shoulder. The body was ice cold and frigid. “Oh…shit.”

Liza and Duffy appeared on the opposite side and together, they rolled Wainwright onto his back. The moment they saw his face, blue lips and vacant eyes their worst fears came true. The trio fell onto their behinds and stared. Liza shed a tear first, and soon became hysterical. Duffy hugged her and tried to hold her back.

“Wainwright!” She screamed.

“Liza, I’m so sorry…he’s gone.” Leopold closed Wainwright’s eyes and rested his arms folded across his chest. “He did what he always does.”

“Protect us, no matter the cost.” Duffy finished Leopold’s thoughts, and when Liza started to compose herself he let her go and inched away. “What should we do?”

Liza stared blankly into empty space.

“Liza. Liza, can you hear me?” The bard waved his hand in front of her face. “Liza!” He shouted.

She turned to him and sighed. She wiped the tears from her eyes and as much of her make up as she could on the hem of her sleeve.

“We take him home.” The emotion in her voice sent a shiver down Duffy’s spine. “We take him home, then we find whoever did this and cut out his heart.” Malice sparked on her tongue, passion and grief riling her heart and threatening to make her lose control. Duffy nodded sympathetically and made to pick him up. Leopold assisted.

“Let us say the words.”

They heaved and carried him, stretcher like between them. Leopold took the legs and Duffy the shoulders. Liza approached his side and rested both palms on Wainwright’s chest. Arden padded into view, his dull emotions showing no signs of life. He circled them and rested his hands atop Liza’s. They spoke in harmony and bound themselves with blood and the Tongues.

“To home, through fold and failure, to sanctuary, through the deep between dark. To home, through fold and failure, to sanctuary, through hatred and heart.”

With a flicker and a flash, the troupe disappeared and left the ruins of market square aflame, crushed, and as a stark reminder of the price of fear run rampant in the minds of those they had, until now, trusted and idolised.