I sprint. In four strides, my lungs are burning. I’m running faster than the fluorescents can keep up, tearing down the hallway into darkness, leaving sputtering lights in a trail behind me. I can’t see anything.

“The ward’s coming up! Faster!”

“I’m—”

“You can go faster. You’re running into pitch-black and you can’t see, so your brain is fighting you. Fight back. It’s a straight line. I promise you won’t hit a wall. Run faster. Trust me!”

I grit my teeth and trust. My legs pump faster, arms swinging for momentum. The Merlins behind me can see in the dark. If they enter the tunnel before I get out, they’ll be on me in seconds.

The thought of actually hitting a brick wall—exactly what the ward will feel like if I barrel headfirst into it at this speed—pushes me even faster, so fast I could trip.

“The wards—” I pant.

I can feel it in the air, aether crackling above me. The dome reshaping, spreading.

“Go!”

The pressure builds, the magic bearing down on me, like the ceiling is getting lower.

“Almost, almost, keep going, every step matters—”

They’re right.

One heel strike, and the ward ripples down my spine.

The next, it snaps down to the floor only a step behind.

I can’t help but glance back. The shining blue barrier illuminates the rest of the hall, clashing with the red emergency lights. I push forward again—and see an exit door.

I hit the crash bar. The exterior alarm rips into my ears, blaring overhead as I stumble out onto a concrete pad facing a service road.

“Come on!”

A familiar voice.

My heart stops.

I twist toward the voice, a small dark-haired figure hanging halfway out the door of a black Jeep idling to my right. A face I’d never expect to see here, never want to see here.

My heart starts again—and leaps toward her.

Alice.

19

I DON’T REMEMBER getting to the Jeep.

One minute, I’m staring slack-jawed at my best friend dressed in head-to-toe black tactical gear. The next, I’m being strapped into a seat as the vehicle peels out of the backlot with an ear-splitting screech. Inside my chest, my heart still thunders from that sprint and my lungs are burning. Outside the windows, security lights and trees blur by in a dizzying streak.

“Bree, oh my God, oh my God.” Alice kneels in front of me, double-checks my seatbelt, then engulfs me in a hug as our getaway vehicle tears down the dark service road.

“Alice?!” My voice is muffled into her shoulder, lost beneath the engine. I cling to her arms, grounding myself. Willing my breathing to slow down. “How—how are you—”