The rain fell on the cobblestones like a thousand small drums.

"You're late, Thomas."

I did not answer. I stood by the gate, holding the lantern. The glass was cracked. The light inside was yellow and weak. It shook in my hand. My hand was steady. I was always steady. That was the job.

Eleanor looked at me from the porch. She wore the blue dress. The one I had bought in the market three days ago. It was tight at the shoulders. She looked like a statue made of water.

"I am here," I said. My voice was rough.

"Come in."

I stepped over the threshold. The house smelled of lavender and old wood. It smelled of her. It was a smell that could kill a man. It had killed me once, yesterday. I had come back. That was the rule. If you die for love, you come back. If you die for duty, you stay gone.

I was a Warden of the Veil. I wore the grey coat. The coat had a high collar. It covered my neck. It covered the mark. The mark was a circle of black ash on my skin. It pulsed when the spirits were near.

Tonight, they were not near. Tonight, it was only us.

"You look tired," she said.

"I am alive," I said.

She smiled. It was a small smile. It did not reach her eyes. Her eyes were dark. They were deep wells. I could drown in them.

I sat down. The chair creaked. It was an old chair. My father’s chair. He had been a Warden too. He had died in the cellar. The spirits had taken him. He had screamed for three days. I had held his hand. I had not let go.

"Do you remember the cellar?" I asked.

Eleanor looked away. She picked up a cup of tea. The steam rose in a white spiral.

"I remember," she said. "I remember the sound."

"The sound was bad," I said.

"It was the worst thing I have ever heard," she said.

I nodded. I drank the tea. It was cold.

We sat in silence. The clock on the wall ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. Each tick was a nail in a coffin.

Then, the door opened.

It opened by itself.

The wind came in. It was a cold wind. It smelled of mud and iron.

Thomas, the boy, stood in the doorway. He was young. He was new. He wore a white shirt. It was clean. It was too clean.

"Sir," he said. "The Gate is open."

I looked at Eleanor. She had stopped breathing.

"The Gate?" I asked.

"Yes. The spirits are coming through. They are... they are many."

My hand went to the coat. The coat was not there. I had left it on the hook. I had taken it off. I had felt free.

Now, I was naked.

I stood up. My legs felt heavy.

"Stay here," I said to Eleanor.

"No," she said. Her voice was thin. "I am coming."

"You must stay."

"I will not be left behind. I will not be like your father."

The words hit me. They were like stones.

I looked at the boy. "Go. Seal the street. Do not let them in."

The boy ran. His shoes slapped the wet stone.

Eleanor stood up. She walked to me. She put her hands on my face. Her hands were cold.

"Thomas," she said.

"What?"

"I saw you in the cellar. I saw you hold his hand. I saw you weep. I saw you break."

I looked into her eyes. I did not blink.

"I did not break," I said. "I held on."

"You held on," she agreed. "But you did not let go. You never let go."

The wind howled. The lantern on the table fell. It shattered. The light died.

The room went dark.

In the dark, I could see her. Not with my eyes. I could see her soul. It was a bright thing. It was a fire. It burned in my chest.

She was the fire. I was the fuel.

"Thomas," she whispered. "Let it go."

"I cannot."

"You must. The Gate is open. The spirits take the ones who hold on. They eat the attachment. They eat the love."

My heart stopped.

I looked at the door. I could hear them. They were like rats in the walls. They were like whispers in the ear. They were hungry.

If I held on to her, they would eat me.

If I let go, they would eat her.

No.

If I let go of her, I would be free. I would be empty. I would be a shell.

But the spirits did not want shells. They wanted the heat. They wanted the fire.

They wanted the love.

I realized it then. The rule was wrong.

The Wards had taught us that love was a weakness. That it was a chain. That it made us vulnerable.

They were wrong.

Love was the only wall.

But it was also the only door.

I looked at Eleanor. She was trembling.

"Thomas," she said. "Kill me."

The words hung in the air.

"What?"

"Kill me. End it. If I am dead, they cannot take me. If I am gone, you are free."

I shook my head. "I will not."

"You must. It is the only way. The Gate is wide. They are at the street. The boy cannot stop them."

I could hear the boy screaming outside.

I looked at my hands. They were steady.

I thought of my father. I thought of the cellar. I thought of the scream.

I thought of the grey coat.

I reached for the coat.

Eleanor grabbed my wrist.

"Thomas," she said. "Do not put it on."

I pulled my hand away. I walked to the hook. I took the coat.

I put it on.

The collar rose. It covered my neck. It covered the mark.

The mark burned.

I felt the power come back. It was cold. It was iron. It was the law.

I turned to Eleanor.

"I will not kill you," I said. "I will save you."

"You cannot save everyone," she said. "You cannot save yourself."

"I can save you."

I closed my eyes.

I reached into the darkness. I reached into the void. I pulled the thread of her life. I held it tight.

The spirits came.

They came through the walls. They came through the floor. They were like smoke. They were like black water.

They touched me.

I felt them. They were cold. They were hungry.

They touched her.

She screamed.

I screamed.

I pushed back. I used the coat. I used the power. I used the fire.

I pushed them out.

I pushed them into the street.

I sealed the door.

I sealed the house.

I sealed my heart.

The room was quiet.

The rain stopped.

Eleanor was on the floor. She was pale. She was still.

I ran to her. I knelt down.

"Eleanor," I said.

She opened her eyes.

"I am here," I said.

She looked at me. She looked at my coat.

"You put it on," she said.

"Yes."

"You are the Warden now," she said. "You are the mask."

I nodded.

"The fire is out," she said.

I looked at my hands. They were empty.

"The fire is in you," I said. "You keep it."

She smiled. It was a sad smile.

"I am tired, Thomas," she said.

"I know."

"Let me go."

I did not move.

"I will not let you go."

"You must. The duty is done. The night is over. You are the Warden. I am just a woman."

I stood up. I buttoned the coat.

"I will stay," I said.

"You cannot stay," she said. "The Veil is thin. The spirits are waiting. They are patient. They will wait for you to sleep. They will wait for you to love. And when you do, they will take it."

I looked at the door. I could hear them. They were still there.

I looked at Eleanor.

"I will not sleep," I said. "I will not love."

"Then you will die," she said. "You will die alone. You will die a Warden. And they will take your ashes."

I did not care.

I sat down in the chair. My father’s chair.

Eleanor looked at me. She looked at the wall.

"Thomas," she said. "I forgive you."

I did not answer.

"Goodbye," she said.

She closed her eyes.

Her breath stopped.

I did not cry.

I stood up.

I walked to the door.

I opened it.

The street was empty.

The rain had stopped.

The sky was clear.

I looked up.

The stars were out.

They were cold.

They were bright.

I put on the hat.

I walked into the night.

I did not look back.

I knew it was wrong.

I knew it was a sacrifice.

I knew it was a lie.

But I walked.

I walked until the city was behind me.

I walked until the road ended.

I walked until I could not walk anymore.

I sat down by the river.

The water was dark.

I looked at my reflection.

I saw a man.

He was old.

He was tired.

He was empty.

I saw the coat.

It was grey.

It was heavy.

It was mine.

I took it off.

I folded it.

I placed it on the bank.

I stood up.

I was naked.

I was free.

I walked into the river.

The water was cold.

It was so cold.

It burned.

I closed my eyes.

I let go.

I let go of the coat.

I let go of the duty.

I let go of the fear.

I let go of her.

I was gone.

The water rose.

It covered my head.

It covered my soul.

It was dark.

It was quiet.

I was with her.

I was with the fire.

I was home.