Book Seven: Chapter 79

“Damn,” he muttered. “Night Marchers, they’re spirits, right? Ghosts?”

Francois shrugged, sweat pouring down his forehead. “Essentially.”

“Is there any way to chase them off?”

Leilani shook her head. “No. They usually ignore humans if you bow before them and avoid eye contact. Not true for my people, though. The Night Marchers are warriors from a different time, and are unaware that we are no longer enemies. If you’re traveling with me, they will show you no mercy, you have to get away!”

“Francois? That sword of yours work on spirits?”

The Captain scoffed. “Of course not. And even if it did, there--”

The man danced to the side as a spear shot toward him, clattering hard against a nearby rock. He scowled in frustration at a dark shadow below that disappeared into the woods.

“There are too many,” he replied.

“Go.” Leilani fixed both of them with a stare, then reached for the trident she carried on her back. “My fate is mine alone.”