Breathless, she turned in circles. There were dozens of corridors now, and each seemed to stretch for miles like some mad dream.

He was changing the story, she realized. Adding his own flourishes to confuse her. And doing a damn good job.

“Choose. His voice whispered inside her head. Choose unwisely, you might tumble off the edge of the world, or rush toward a pit of fire. But stand, only stand and yield, and all this will be no more than a dream.”

“You lie.”

“Run and risk your life. Surrender and save it.” “Choose,” he said again, and she felt the hot silk of the scarf wrap around her throat.

Horrified, she clawed at it, raked her own skin with the frantic swipes of her nails. She was choking, fighting the illusion of the strangling cloth as the blood roared in her head like the sea.

Then suddenly she was free, and there was only the single corridor leading to the last staircase.

Tears leaked from her eyes as she ran for it, dragging herself up by the banister as her injured knee gave out under her.

She threw herself at the door, yanked at the knob with slippery hands. Her breath sobbed out of her burning lungs, scored her abused throat when she stumbled out into the silver light of the moon.

She was at the top of the Watch, high above the valley, where light glowed against the dark. People, she thought, were tucked away in those houses. Safe and warm. She knew them, and they her. Friends, family, a lover.

All so far away now, beyond her reach. Beyond her world.

She was alone, and there was no place left to run.

She slammed the door closed, scanned the stone parapet for something to brace against the door. If she could keep the killer on the other side until day broke…

No, not the killer. Kane. It was Kane.

She was Dana, Dana Steele, and what chased her was worse than a killer.

She pressed her back against the door, using her weight as a wedge. Then she saw shed been wrong. She wasnt alone.

The cloaked figure walked in the shower of moonlight, one hand, with its glitter of rings, skimming along the low stone wall. Her cloak streamed out in a wind that made no sound.

The phantom of the Watch, she thought, and closed her eyes for a moment of peace. The ghost. Jordans ghost.

“Hes coming.” She was amazed how calm she sounded with a vengeful god or mad killer behind her, and a spirit of the dead in front. “To kill me, or stop me, or take my soul. It all comes to the same thing in the end. I need help.”

But the figure didnt turn. She only stood, looking down at the forest where two hundred years before, love had killed her.

“Youre Jordans. Youre Jordans creation, not Kanes. In the book you helped, and the act set you free. Dont you want to be free?”

But the phantom said nothing.

“Kates dialogue,” Dana murmured. “I need Kates words. What are they?”

As she dug for them, the door burst open, throwing her forward onto the stone.

“She cant help you.” Kane ran the scarf through his hands as he stepped out. “Shes only a prop.”

“Its all props.” She scrambled backward like a crab. “Its all lies.”

“Yet you bleed.” He gestured toward her arm, her throat. “Is the pain a lie? Is your fear?” His smile spread as he came closer. “Youve been a challenging opponent. You have a clever mind and a strong will. Clever enough, strong enough to have changed some small pieces of my picture. Imagining the stairs and the door to this place took considerable strength. Bringing her here”—he gestured toward the cloaked figure—“even more. I commend you.”

Her mouth trembled open, then she shut it again. Had she imagined it, the route, the door? Had she willed the ghost into being?

No, no she didnt believe she had. Shed been circling in confusion.

Jordan. It was Jordans book. And he was a man with a clever mind and a strong will. Somehow he was trying to help her. Damned if she was going to let him fail.

She was Dana, she reminded herself. And she was Kate—Jordans Kate. Neither one of them would cower at the end.

“Maybe Ill just imagine you jumping off that wall to your bloody, messy death.”

“Still hissing. A cornered cat. Perhaps Ill simply leave you here, deep inside a book. You should thank me, as books are one of your pleasures.”

He inclined his head as she got to her feet, as he saw her wince of pain. “Or perhaps Ill step back and let the killer come onstage. It would be interesting to see you battle him, though in my version you may not triumph. Either way, it would be entertaining. Yes, I believe Id enjoy the theater of it.”

The white scarf vanished from his hands. “Do you remember how she hears him shambling up the steps, what she feels run through her when she understands that shes trapped?”

Danas breath began to hitch once more as she heard the slow, oncoming footsteps.

He couldnt force her to do anything, she remembered. He could only trick her mind. “How the fear clutched in her belly as she understood that she had run exactly where hed wanted her to run? And below, her lover sees her standing in the light of the moon, sees the

phantom beyond her, and the killer as he steps out onto the stone.

“And he calls her name, in terror and despair, as he knows he can never reach her in time.”

“Sure he can. All it takes is a rewrite.”

Kane whirled as Jordan leaped out of the doorway.

The force of the attack knocked Kane back against the wall.

“You have no place here!”

“This is my place.” Putting all his rage into it, Jordan rammed his fist into Kanes face. It burned as if hed shoved his hand into fire. Still, he reared back to do it again. And was lifted off his feet and flung backward.

“Die here, then.”

A sword shot up from the hand Kane raised. Dana sprang to her feet, and charged him, sprang onto his back to fight with teeth and nails and spitting fury. She heard someone howling, and realized as her throat opened again, that the sound came from her.

Kane knocked her away with a vicious backhand that sent her slamming hard against Jordan. She saw blood on his face, from wounds that both she and Jordan had inflicted.

And her heart danced.

“You will know pain,” she shot out at him.

His eyes gleamed black as he raised the sword. “And you, worse. Your blood will seal you here.”

But as he swung down to strike, his hand was empty.

“Lets see if gods fly,” Jordan said. Both he and Dana rushed forward.

Dana felt her shoving hands connect, then they passed through him as he vanished.

There was a swirl of smoke, a flash of dull blue light. Then nothing but the moon and shadows.

“Did I do that?” She had to wheeze out the words. “Or did you?”

“I dont know.” He caught her when her legs gave way, and lowered them both to the stone floor. “I dont care. Jesus, youre bruised and bleeding. But Ive got you.” He wrapped her tight in his arms. “Ive got you.”

“Ditto.” Undone, she buried her face against his chest. “How did you get here? He didnt bring you. He wasnt expecting you.”

“Hes not the only god in the Valley these days.” Lifting her head, he pressed his lips to her cheek, her temple. “Weve got to find our way back, Dana. I dont mind being sucked into a story, but this is a little much.”

“Im open to suggestions.” Hold on, she ordered herself. Hold on until its finished. “This is just about the end of the story. Heroine grapples with bad guy, and with a little help from the ghost— who was no help at all, by the way—fights him off, sends him over the wall just as the hero bursts out to save her. Kiss, kiss, frantic explanations and declarations of love. Then they watch the. phantom of the watch fade away, freed by her final act of humanity.”

“You remembered that pretty well for somebody who read it six years ago.” He helped her to her feet, then looked toward the end of the parapet. The cloaked figure stood, looking out at the forest.

“Shes not fading.”

“Maybe she needs a little more time.” When she put weight on her knee, the pain brought tears to her eyes. “Ouch! Damn. Maybe you could write in an ice pack for this knee.”

“Wait.” Fascinated, he stepped forward. “Rowena.”

“Her name wasnt Rowena. It was… I cant quite remember, but it wasnt—” She broke off, her eyes widening as the cloaked woman turned and smiled at her. “Except it is Rowena.”

“I couldnt send you alone. We wouldnt let him take your lives here. Will you finish your quest?” she asked Dana.

“I havent come this far to toss it in now. I was about to—” She cut herself off again. “Its not in the book, not anymore. Not on the white page with the black words. Its here now. In the story, like we are.”

“Ive already done more than Im permitted to do. I can only ask you: Will you finish your quest?”

“Yes, Ill finish it.”

She vanished, not with smoke and light as Kane had, but as if shed never been.

“What the hell do we do now?” Jordan asked. “Go back-somehow—to the beginning of the book and start looking? The lines you remembered were from the prologue.”

“No, we dont have to go back, I need a minute first.” She stepped to the wall, breathed deep. “Autumn smoke in the air,” she chanted. “The way the moon, a perfect ball, is carved into the sky. Everything—the trees, the valley… look, you can just see the river, the way the moonlight glints off the water at the bend of it. Its all here, every detail.”

“Yeah, nice view. Lets finish up and go look at it in our world.”

“I like your book, Jordan. I dont want to live here, but its a fascinating place to visit. Its exactly the way I pictured it. You write a hell of a story.”