Evan is running, and so am I. I swing at the first imp I reach, hacking off its long, pointed tail. Its screech is a railroad spike driving deep into my brain, but it flies back over the ravine, away from us. Fitz manages to drive his blade into the body of another imp. A squelching, wet sound, and the silver tip of it pops out of its back, shining and covered in black blood. When the imp falls, it almost takes Fitz’s glowing sword with him.

One of the imps flies over Fitz’s head and makes a beeline for me. I swipe high, just slicing into the soft pocket of flesh under its arm. It screeches and wings upward.

Inside my skull, my grandmother screams.

Her wail sends me to my hands and knees—right at the edge of the path. I freeze, my head and shoulders just stopping before tipping me over into the chasm.

I gasp and scramble away until my back hits the wall.

‘Protect my grandchild, Lord, oh please…’

I think Not right now! at her as loud as I can, because the imp I injured is still circling the ravine. It loops back around and flies right toward me. It’s the first time I’ve seen one straight on. It has long, curved horns like a mountain goat and green glowing eyes. I drop into a loose stance. Wait for it. Wait for it.

‘The Lord is my shepherd…’

“Not now, Grandma!” I scream out loud, and slash downward with all of my strength, slicing the imp in two from shoulder to hip. Both sides of it fall back into the ravine.

I shove Grandmother Charles into an empty room in my mental house and imagine locking the door tight so I can focus, then turn back to Fitz.

The last imp has sunk its claws deep into Fitz’s shoulders and hovers behind him where his sword can’t reach. He drops the blade and, face and chest bloody with gouges, reaches back behind his head to try and grab its ankles. It’s futile. Before I can take another step to help him, the imp laughs—a sound like nails on a board—and takes off, pulling Fitz up with him.

I watch, horrified, as Fitz’s feet leave the ground. The imp leans to the left, dragging Fitz’s weight toward the ravine. I run, only to end up standing right where he’d stood. Just in time to see the terror on his face when the imp extracts one foot.

“Fitz!” Evan screams, but it’s no use.

Fitz shouts. The imp lets go.

He falls.

There’s a heartbeat of silence, then a heavy, wet piercing sound—and silence again.

My brain has shut down.

It tries to process what it’s seeing in the ravine, but it can’t.