The voice was close, coming from the other side of the roof. It sounded as if the speaker were talking through a vat of goo, the words all thick and phlegmy.

Stones crunched and grass rustled as the large beast moved across the ground on the other side of the fallen roof, coming closer. Evin’s chest seized in fear and—strangely—excitement.

Again he put his finger to his lips, then gestured with his head for both Jorick and Betilivatis to follow him. All three pressed their backs against the stone roof, and as quietly as they could, sidled in the opposite direction of the creature’s voice.

They reached the edge of the roof just as the shadow of the monster’s giant head came into view. Then they rushed around the edge and flattened themselves against a wall covered with fading carvings.

Evin peered around the edge of the wall toward the roof. Betilivatis did the same.

The creature was there, so terrifyingly close, and seemed even bigger than before. It ran the pudgy fingers of its two left hands against the fallen roof as muscles in its lower body tensed and relaxed, moving the monster’s bulging body forward. Its twin red eyes, set on either side of its face like a fish’s, darted back and forth.

It hadn’t seen them.

Evin almost let out a sigh of relief—but then, he saw the food sack still lying where Jorick had left it.

The creature moved over the sack. Then it stopped abruptly. Tilting its head, it bent over the entire top half of its bulging body and picked up the sack with two of its stubby arms.

The beast lifted the sack up to its face and sniffed. The dark liquid of the now crushed jars of preserves dripped down its belly. The creature sniffed once, twice, then tossed the sack aside.

It looked straight forward, directly at what little of Evin’s face he’d dare show around the edge of the roof.

Evin pulled back. The sounds of the creature’s movements became louder, quicker.

It called out in its phlegmy voice, “I seeing you! Come here!”

No one had to say anything. Evin, Jorick, and Betilivatis tiptoed past the carved wall and out into the open. Evin’s eyes darted back and forth. He pointed at a fallen, cracked brass bell on the other side of the river.

The three kids clambered over the slippery, fallen column Evin had hidden behind earlier. Pieces of the column crumbled at their touch, falling and plunking into the surging water. But the river wasn’t wide and they made it across quickly, then ran to dive behind the bell—just as the beast came past the wall. Evin peered again at the creature. It was coming right for them.

“Come on,” he whispered to his friends, his tone urgent. “Stay low to the ground and try not to make any noise.”