WHITE SPECTERS LOOMED AROUND US. Winged angels, weeping angels, angels in triumph, and angels overwhelmed with sadness.
I peered into the snowy gloom and saw Frankengoon. He reached out, as though his arm might stretch over a hundred graves and grab me. I caught Jerod's eye. For a second, our minds locked and we pulled down more snow from the sky, a sudden howling blast. Then a force from the darkness fought back and made the winds quiet again.
"Jerod!" I shouted. I looked around frantically for him. But he'd fled, driven off by Frankengoon's far greater power. So it was just him against me, young water against ancient air. If anyone had been watching, all they would've seen was a kid cranked down inside herself and a huge hulking old man. He was grabbing at the sky like he could command the winds to do his will. I was hunched over, drawing up the water of the earth.
Up and down, it didn't make any difference now. A river seemed to flow in the sky. Snow and sleet seemed to rise from the ground. God or girl? Man or monster? Fever cooked my brain, set my blood simmering. Icy wind and burning breath—I couldn't tell the difference.
Knacke emerged from the blowing darkness. Both his hands were full of flame. And his eyes too, like two tiny suns. He yelled at us, only it wasn't words. The sound came out as a fiery viper's tongue. Snowflakes pelted the tongue, hissing into dots of steam.
I went toward Knacke, ready to fight even if it meant dying. "Zee!" Relly yelled. "Back off!" He was himself again, calling up a last flicker of inner flame to protect me.
Knacke met him, old fire struggling against new. The last battle of the burning gods. It was beautiful, like the dance of two creatures made of rushing flame. And at the same time, it was awful to see, each one fighting to draw the life, the light, the heart's fire, out of the other.
Where they fought, the snow ran away in dark streams.
"Water plus earth," I whispered. Then louder, to Butt. "Water plus earth equals mud." I grabbed him, yelling, "Do it. Now!"
He understood. We'd done it before. Now together we melted the side of the hill. I mean it got soft, oozy, unstable. A sick groaning came from below us, as though the hill itself was in pain. Trees started to tilt over. Gravestones tipped and slid. Great slabs and shoulders of mud began to collapse downward. Shouts and curses. Fire and smoke. Rivers of mud like the blood of the earth poured out. A huge grave marker leaned, then fell and took a few trees with it.
Now coffins were poking out of their holes. Dripping webs of tree roots grabbed at the empty air. A chunk of iron picket fence slid down the muddy hill like a sled with no rider.
Falling, I grabbed for Butt. Only he was already gone, pulled into the muck. Knacke and Relly, Scratch and Frankengoon, too. I was the last one standing.
Right below me, a coffin slid from its ancient hiding place. The lid caught on a huge root and was thrown aside. I saw a pale gray dress, like something woven out of spider thread. I saw a bony white face and long hair.
Then I lost my footing and was gone, like the others. Down, down, down.