I was suffocating to death.

  ‘Hold on. Help is coming.’ Hwari whispered.

  There was a crack. Wol landed across from me, sliding against the ground. The green bojagi he wore was singed black. He leapt right up and hissed, whites of his teeth showing.

  I felt bad. For the ghosts I’d summoned. They died instantly. My familiars too. I summoned them at the end of my ropes, without a plan, and without a way to escape this thing. I thought they were some magic items that could pull off a miracle. For a second, it seemed that way.

  But I’d been too weak. Too drained. Using my blood constantly did more than blood loss. I could feel the weakness seeping into everywhere else.

  These guys had known my mom. And it looked like they liked her too. I mean, they accepted someone like me for god’s sake, just because she said.

  They probably knew from the start this was impossible.

  …They were nice. How long had it been since I felt that?

  I know. It’s weird. I knew them for about ten minutes.

  But I didn’t like them getting hurt. Hwari getting burnt. Wol getting kicked around like that.

  It pissed the fuck out of me.

  “...ic…” I hiccuped, vision closing.

  I didn’t need words for Hwari to understand. I got that now. She picked up on things like emotions and intent.

  She brushed against my hands, cold and murky. Even without my eyes, I could sense the circle she drew.

  “Caller, no.” Wol hissed, somewhere between alarm and shock. “Don’t!”

  Of course. He was logic and thought. He saw possibilities. What only option I had.

  I didn’t care. I touched my bloodied hand to the circle and called.

  And something answered back.

  I instinctively reached towards it, feeding it everything that I was feeling. Desperation. Panic. Dread. Growing horror at the realization that I might die. I kept it going; the anticipation of nothingness, the crushing weight realization that I had no idea what waited for me after death.

  My hate for this damned fire.

  “Jain!” Wol sounded further and further away. “Hwari, stop!”

  She was chanting in my stead. A chant I hadn't told her about. A chant I didn't know existed.

  ‘By the Hallow Name, I beseech ancient powers to stir;’ Hwari’s upbeat tone had been replaced by a monotonous void, ‘Ruin, Terror, Evil, Winter, Sickness, Life and Death blurs–’

  A terrible cold began to spread through my body.

  It wasn’t a ghost. It wasn’t anything like that. I saw nothing yet my Third Eye could see. I saw great mountains full of people, huddled around fires for warmth and heavy fur pelts as clothing. They spoke in no language I knew, one forgotten to the modern empires. They pointed up at the peaks, shuddering in fear.

  Winter.

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  Sickness.

  Payment.

  The mountains wanted to know what I could give it.

  This wasn't the being I had been trying to summon. I'd been trying to summon another ghost, a powerful one. But I wasn't spoiled for choice at the moment.

  Answers rose to my lips, making the pledge. It was no thought process. It was my soul, tracing the grooves left in my family history –one I’d heard too much in the last day or so.

  Left arm. For ten seconds of your power. That was the only thing I could think of.

  The Cold Sickness laughed as I offered it pennies. Less than that. Worthless.

  ‘Say my name five times throughout your life span, and I shall answer.’

  And he told me his name.

  Cold spread everywhere.

  I managed to open one eye, down at the circle that Hwari drew.

  The circle had expanded, layers upon layers. Decagons, Hexagons, Triangles layered on top of each other and runic writing covering the damned thing –everything made of snow crystals. Icy shells and frost crusted around Hwari’s body.

  “What are you doing?!” The practitioner locked eyes with me and I realized he was barely old enough to be out of college.

  “...You hurt my cat.” I muttered then began the summoning. "Azag."

  The name was said and I became aware of the Cold Sickness, and he in turn of me. He gained a small foothold just then to exert influence.

  The ceiling pillars screamed in protest as frost expanded, killing the flames. Spiderwebs of ice spread from my ritual circle, a crystalline shell freezing Hwari and locking her in place.

  Wol screamed in pain as splintering headaches pounded at my head.

  "Winter's Cold and Winter's Sickness. The Wind of Disease that knows no walls or fires." I chanted.

  Blood poured freely down my nose and I started coughing.

  A horrible cough that wracked my entire body, bending me in half. This wasn’t smoke nor was it water. It was sickness taking root in my body. A hollow empty cough that left me spitting and drained.

  I laughed while doing so. The other practitioner was coughing too, while his familiar reeled from the pain.

  “Az–” I started.

  Abigail exploded out of the door behind me and snaked her hand around my mouth. Her body blurred with a speed no mortal being could possess. She hooked her other arm under my armpit and began to drag me down the hallway.

  “Mmmph!” I kicked but she was behind me. The goth was no dainty flower. She was built like one of those track and field athletes, with strength to spare.

  Hwari’s golden flecks appeared on the walls, trailing me from beneath the shadowy surface. The ice couldn't keep her, not with my concentration broken like this. Wol leapt towards us.

  ‘She will help.’ Hwari thought-spoke at me.

  “Brace yourself, Jain Shin Hallow.” Abigail said next to my ears, her breath of honey and poison.

  Then she heaved and suddenly I was plummeting.

  The empty night sky greeted me and my stomach dropped in free fall for a terror-inducing few seconds that seemed to last a lifetime.

  I fell onto snow and everything hurt.

  Abigail landed right after me, throwing up a powder of snow.

  “Well done, Nucai.” Assad’s languid voice, “Oh my. Wol? Hwari?” There was genuine joy, “The boy’s extremely talented. Conjuring familiars without guidance, contracting with them on the first try while being hunted nonetheless… and was that what I think it was?”

  “Still alive, Paris?” Wol said sarcastically. Unlike the rest of us, he was walking on top of the three-feet deep powdery snow.

  ‘He is hurt.’

  “Please. Take my car.” Assad offered. "What a horrible host I've been."

  Wol snapped. “Get away from us.”

  ‘Wol.’ Hwari whispered.

  Their voices were fading. I couldn’t see anymore.

  So tired.

  “Oh, no need to worry. I won’t be going with you. Someone needs to clean up this mess.” Then he ordered, “Abigail? Put the boy in the car.”

  Shortly after, I felt strong arms carry me inside and lay me down. “He’s getting hypothermia.”

  I fell on something soft and it was warm. Not hot, not cold, just comfortable.

  Wol’s body nestled on top of my chest. I didn’t need to see to know it was him. Hwari’s cold presence could be felt too –not physically, but on a deeper level.

  Everything else melted away as I let sleep consume me.