“Isn’t it?” Katie said, and made a twisting gesture with her hand.

All at once, the color bled out of the world. The ticking of the clock became like thunder, and the hairs on the back of Eleanor’s neck stood on end.

“The error my siblings made was in giving you warning. I ensured you had none. You are in my crossroads, and when the totality of the eclipse is over, you will be mine for good.” She wasn’t smiling or gloating, the way her siblings would have. She sounded matter-of-fact.

Eleanor wheeled toward the edge of the path. If they could escape the crossroads, maybe that would be enough to get free of Katie’s grasp.

“I wouldn’t,” Katie said mildly as Eleanor sprinted for the woods.

She’d barely gotten a toe over the edge when something slammed into her, throwing her back to the ground. Otto yelped and hurried to help her back to her feet. Pip launched herself toward another spot at the edge of the road—and then she was being lifted off her feet and tossed back by some unseen force. At least Pip landed nimbly on her feet, scowling. Eleanor stared at the empty air—and suddenly it wasn’t so empty. For a split second, the air shimmered with a strange light.

But she didn’t just see it. She felt it. She felt the roads, the only real thing in this place. She could sense them stretching out, away from the crossroads. They seemed to call to her. They seemed to be waiting for her to answer.

“We have to try to get away from the crossroads,” Otto suggested under his breath.

“You cannot run faster than my hounds,” Katie said. She whistled an eerie two-tone note. Rag-a-bone and Shatterblack slinked out from behind her, as if they had been hidden in her silhouette. They paced a wide circle around the trio, moving in opposite directions until each of them blocked the way down one of the roads, Katie herself barring the third path.

Eleanor looked around wildly in the gloom—and then her eyes fixed on the horizon. At first she thought there was something huge and solid hurtling toward them, and then she realized what she was seeing was pure darkness. The darkness of the total eclipse, moving like a wave over the woods.

Instinctive terror swept through her. She gave a cry and reached for her friends. They caught her hands just as the moon slid over the last sliver of the sun.

Only the candlewick eyes of the umbral hounds broke through the solid dark that fell across them then. Eleanor shivered. The night was so thick she could feel it against her skin.

It felt so strange. She felt strange.

Eleanor’s breath came raggedly. The Story—the world-walker. Is that what she felt, seeping into her skin, making the dark feel alive?