what I think. But I don't care. I'm hungry enough to dine among bodies."
They dismounted, led their horse to the tavern stables, and found no stableboy or horses. They tethered their horse, fed it hay, then stepped toward the tavern.
Gloriae drew her sword, Kyrie drew his dagger, and they stepped inside.
Kyrie grunted.
"I knew it," he said.
Bodies lay slumped against the tables and bar. They were not dead, merely soulless, but that didn't stop two rats from gnawing on one's face. The man had only a bit of cheek and forehead left. The rats screeched, teeth bloody, and fled. Kyrie covered his mouth, nauseous.
"Lovely," Gloriae said, looking a little green. She gestured with her sword to a doorway. "The kitchen would be back there. Let's eat."
Kyrie hesitated. "It's almost night. Do you think the nightshades will return?"
Gloriae shrugged. "They might. But I'd rather face them here, with a burning fireplace and food in my belly."
Kyrie wanted to argue, but he could smell beef stew and bread, and that overcame all other thoughts. They stepped into the kitchen to find a cook slumped on the ground. They propped him up against a wall, found a pot of simmering stew and bowls, and returned to the common room to eat. They filled mugs from a casket of ale at the bar. As they ate, Kyrie kept looking outside the windows. It was getting darker. Soon night fell.
"Let's add some logs to the fire," he said.
Gloriae nodded. Soon the fireplace blazed. They found oil and lit the tin lamps around the common room. Wind rattled the shutters, and the lamps swung on their chains, swirling shadows like demons.
"It's still not very bright in here," Kyrie said. He clutched his dagger, as if that could stop the nightshades. As if anything could stop them, he thought.
"No," Gloriae whispered. She was pale. The firelight danced against her face.
They returned to their table and sat silently, weapons drawn.
"At least we had one good, last meal, huh?" Kyrie said.
Gloriae regarded him with eyes that were clearly not amused.
A log in the fireplace crackled.
Lamps swung.
Outside, nightshades shrieked.
Gloriae stiffened, and her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword. Kyrie bit his lip and struggled not to shiver. It was a horrible sound, so high pitched it raised his hackles. Even the bodies on the floor and tables shivered, as if they could still hear.
"Glor—" Kyrie began.
"Shh!" she hushed him. Her face was a mask of pain and rage.
The nightshades kept shrieking, and soon Kyrie could see them out the windows. They swirled around the inn, rustling the trees, creaking the walls. Please, Draco stars, send them away, Kyrie prayed. Let them leave this place.
Had nightshades found Agnus Dei too? What about Lacrimosa? Kyrie clenched his jaw. Would they all die this night?
A window smashed open in the kitchen.
A nightshade shrieked, its shadow spilling into the common room.
Gloriae slumped onto the tabletop, her arms sprawled at her sides.
No! Kyrie thought. The nightshades got her.
"Gloriae," he whispered and clutched her.
She glared at him. "Down, you idiot!" she whispered. "Play dead."
Kyrie slumped across the table too, closing his eyes to slits. Just then the nightshade burst from the kitchen into the common room. It was a huge thing, twenty feet long, maybe thirty. It snaked around the room, sniffing at the bodies. When it neared the fireplace, it shrieked so loudly, the casket of ale rattled and shattered. Ale spilled across the floors.
Kyrie wanted to shift. He wanted to blow fire. He wanted to flee. But a thousand nightshades filled the forest outside. He knew that if they attacked too, he would die. He kept lying against the tabletop, not moving, peeking beneath his eyelids. Gloriae was slumped against him, her hair once more tickling his face, her hand under his.
The nightshade moved from body to body, sniffing. It cackled, a sound like the fireplace. It then moved its great, wispy head of smoke to Kyrie and Gloriae.
The head hovered over them. Kyrie had never seen one so close. He had often thought them made of smoke, but he saw that was false. They were made of black, inky material that swirled. Stars seemed to shine inside them. Their eyes were glittering stars, so bright they burned him.
Go away, he prayed. Leave this place.
The nightshade sniffed him and Gloriae and seemed to be considering. It had passed over the other bodies quickly, but it paused over them.
It knows we're alive, Kyrie thought. Stars, it knows.
The sound of hooves sounded outside.
"Back, demons!" cried