Then even that was gone, and the demon was clawing its way back to its feet, snarling in fury.

Nest, momentarily transfixed by the struggle taking place before her, wheeled to flee once more. But she had lost her sense of direction entirely, forgetting the bend in the trail and the low rail fence at her back. She took one quick stride and toppled right over the fence. She was up again instantly, thrashing at the heavy brush, trying to escape its clinging embrace. Then the ground disappeared beneath her feet, and she was falling head over heels down a rain-slicked slope. She groped futilely for something to hang on to, skidding and sliding along slick bare earth and through long grass, careening off bushes and exposed tree roots, the darkness whirling about her in a kaleidoscope of distant lights and falling rain. Her stomach lurched with each sudden change of direction, and she tucked in her arms and legs and covered her head with her hands, waiting for something to slow her.

When she hit the base of the precipice, the breath was knocked from her lungs and her head was left spinning. She lay where she was for an instant, listening to the sound of the rain. Then she was back on her feet and running, dazed and battered, but otherwise unhurt. A wide, grassy embankment stretched along the base of the cliffs, fronting the dark, choppy waters of Puget Sound, and a concrete path paralleled the water’s edge. She wheeled left down the path, heading for the lights of the residences that lay closest.

Already she could hear the sounds of the demon’s pursuit. It was coming down the cliff face after her, scrambling through the brush and grasses, branches and roots snapping as it tore through them. She gritted her teeth against her fear and rage. Feeders ran at her side, an unshakable presence. Her windbreaker was muddied and torn, pieces of it flapping wildly against her body. If she could reach the houses outside the park, she would have a chance. Her lungs burned as she forced herself to run faster. Again she thought to turn and face the thing that chased her, to summon up the magic that had protected her so often before. But she had no way of knowing if she still had the use of it, and no time to find out.

Her feet splashed loudly through the rain that puddled on the concrete, spraying surface water everywhere. Her clothing was soaked through, and her curly hair was plastered to her head. She could no longer see or hear the demon, but she knew it was back there. She thought of Ariel, and tears filled her eyes. Dead because of her. All of them—Boot, Audrey, and Ariel—dead because of her. She ran faster, sweeping past grassy picnic areas with tables and iron cookers, swing sets and benches, and a small pavilion with a wooden roof and a concrete floor. To her right, the sound lapped against the shoreline, driven by the wind. The world about her was a vast, empty, rain-swept void.