Free Ghost of Doors (City of Doors) by Jennifer Paetsch Page A

where their exiles decayed? If there was a Hell, this was it, as far removed as possible from the love of anything that could even remotely be considered holy.
    "Can you hear the voices too?"
    Marie's slender lips thinned even more. "So you can hear them? I didn't think you could."
    Wolfgang nodded. "What are they saying?"
    Her eyes widened. "You don't recognize them? They're our voices, Wolfgang." This trip was turning out to be harder on Marie than on him. Even as stoic as she was, it was hard for her to keep the stress from showing. This place was designed to destroy the fae even more than the humans. Perhaps the creator figured that the humans were so fragile that they wouldn't last one second here and designed it to take out something tougher.
    "On second thought," he said, "don't tell me what they're saying. It's better if I don't know."
    Marie turned around in the dimness as if looking for an escape from the wood or from the voices. She took a few steps in one direction and Wolfgang followed, not wanting to lose sight of her. Pilgrim stayed close behind. If they got split up now, they would never find each other again. Out of the corner of his eye a figure stepped toward them. Wolfgang spun back around, to see who or what it was. A little troll of a man whose head was just high enough to stand above the mist approached them. His head floated over the mist eerily as if he had no body, a balloon for a skull. He had a long nose and a pleading look, a haggard garden gnome on the loose. His tired eyes were yellow even in the weak light. "Have you any bread?" he asked pitifully. "There's nothing to eat out here. Nothing! And I've been lost for so long."
    "Go away," Wolfgang warned him, and drew Vogelfang to flash in what little light was left. It glowed white hot in his hand after a moment. The little man began to speak but the sudden light interrupted him. Even that did little to stave off the darkness. "I know what you are!" Wolfgang shouted. "The only thing you want from me is blood." Wolfgang didn't know exactly what he was, but if he was not human and not welcome in Doors, then he was incredibly dangerous.
    "No," the little man said. "No, it's the truth. This place is a maze. You'll get lost here, too, you'll see. Lost forever."
    Wolfgang didn't want to take his eyes off the little man, but an unexpected worry about his silent friends broke his concentration like a stone thrown as a distraction. He turned to look at them, and the little man, yellowed eyes gleaming, made his move.
    "Sweetbread will do," he muttered, and then cackled. The forest echoed his laughter as if they were in a cave. Springing up as easily upon Wolfgang's back as a jockey mounts a horse, the little man somehow slipped upon and then into Wolfgang's body. Marie rushed to Wolfgang's side and gripped him tightly, one shoulder in each hand. She shook him hard, maybe thinking she could shake the little man loose. Wolfgang felt her and the No Man's Land somehow moving further and further away from his consciousness. His head began to ache as if someone was inside trying to pull it apart. He could see Marie, but it was as if he was looking at her through a tunnel. His arms and legs began to grow numb. He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt for the iron talisman. Stroking his finger across its surface, he called to mind the symbol upon it that had been worn away with time and friction and his own sweat and flesh. "You can't force me out of my own head," Wolfgang told whatever it was inside of him. "Better minds than you have tried."
    His face felt wet, his mouth and chin warm and sticky. He weakly brushed a hand against the wetness and looked down to see that hand with darkness smeared across it: His nose had begun to bleed. Blacking out for the moment, Wolfgang came to and caught himself just as his legs began to give way. He could hear Marie and the buzzing voices but it all blended together into a cacophony that only served to ruin his