The body that had been split in two crashed heavily into the snow, but thick black sludge flowed from the enormous wound, rejoining the two halves. Even so, Stone Osenfott had not died, though he was now completely unable to move.
The sound of Shade approaching, breathing heavily, reached the ears of the man lying in the snow. His eyes on either side looked toward the night sky, turned crimson by the great fire. He heard the rhythmic crunch of boots crushing the snow, then felt several sheets of paper fall beside him.
"I've learned everything about your story with Madam Haila Osenfott. I'd really like to know whether you ever considered solving this another way."
Holding a longsword, Shade looked down at him from above:
"Perhaps this tragedy could have been resolved from the very beginning."
"You won. You can kill me, but you cannot mock me."
Unable to move, Osenfott could only grit his teeth and steady his voice while enduring boundless pain. He still did not look at Shade, instead watching the falling snowflakes:
"Aren't you very busy? Why waste words on me?"
"I'm not mocking you, nor am I wasting time. Do you remember? The wedding we attended together—the Enriques Couple's wedding, when the ghost of the bride's lover from her student days came looking for her."
Shade asked.
"Of course I remember."
"Do you know how that marriage ended? Where would a marriage that began with betrayal lead?"
Shade asked again.
Osenfott said nothing, while Shade controlled the letters Mr. Enriques had written to his wife and let them drift before his eyes:
"But I do know. After that shameful betrayal, Mr. Enriques and Mrs. Enriques still deeply loved one another. Perhaps it sounds ridiculous, but after repeated torment and reflection, Mr. Enriques decided to