“What . . . what is even happening?” Winston stuttered. “The shadows . . . they’re trying to eat Principal Ollie.”

“We’ve been telling you all along this isn’t a game,” I shouted at him. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on Winston, but this wasn’t the time for him to be just figuring out the basics.

Principal Ollie’s light began to pulse until it pushed back the shadows, which hissed and shrieked as they retreated. “This is the only way to slow him down,” Principal Ollie said, voice weak. “Tell Yemoja that it’s too late.”

Him—him. H-I-M. There was only one him. The creepy stuff of nightmares that made boogeymen look like cream puffs. A man who was dead set on destroying everyone and everything in the human world. Not a man. A celestial with unthinkable power. The Lord of Shadows.

“Is he here?” I asked desperately. “Is the Lord of Shadows here?”

But Principal Ollie had fallen eerily still, leaving my question unanswered. They became pure light, bright and beautiful.

“I think they’re in some kind of stasis,” Frankie suggested. “The mermaids said that the celestials were using their powers to keep the wound from spreading. There’s nothing we can do.”

“What about Ogun and Shangó?” Zeran said. “Should we look for them?”

Before anyone could answer, a burst of familiar cackling came from behind us. Four pairs of glowing yellow eyes stared at us from the shadows. Frankie and I looked at each other in horror, remembering the night we’d gotten cornered in an alley. “Werehyenas,” we said at the same time.

Zeran frowned. “Were . . . what?”

“You have to be kidding me,” Winston said as the werehyenas stepped into the light. Standing on their hind legs, they were nearly seven feet tall, their ears sticking up. Their lips were pulled back, revealing very sharp teeth.

“I wonder how they got into the library,” Frankie said, shrinking back.

I grimaced as we faced the werehyenas, who looked mighty hungry. “I think that’s beside the point.”

Winston shot flames at the lead werehyena, but they turned into puffs of smoke as soon as they hit the alpha’s spotted fur. “Oh, snap!”

I was beginning to think that his solution to every problem was to attempt to set it on fire.

“We’ve stumbled upon a tasty snack,” snarled the alpha. He was bigger and meaner looking than the other three. “A morsel for each of us.”

The werehyenas pounced and we scattered, dodging the attack. The alpha bounced off an invisible shield around Principal Ollie, did a backflip, and landed on its feet. Under any other circumstances, that might have been impressive, but not when four massive furballs were trying to eat you. They stalked toward us, drool dripping from their mouths.

“Time to die, little morsels,” snarled the alpha. “I’ve always wanted to eat a godling and taste their magic.”