“It?” Morgan clenches his jaw. “That’s my little sister.” He staggers through the snow in pursuit of Aoife.

It’s not hard to keep up with him in his weakened state.

“You two, stay together,” Toivo says, then curses in Finnish before racing ahead, calling after Aoife who’s a smudge of blue jacket and green scarf in the distance.

The laughter continues and a blur of red and brown flies toward me from the left. I reach out, trying to grab the whirling ball of color, but it’s too strong, too fast, and it whirls away, leaving me with strands of saliva and clumps of coarse brown hair sticking to my fingers. My whole body is itching and tingling as if an army of fire ants is waging war under my skin.

“Oh, that’s gross.” I wipe my hand on my leg, and when I look up, all the eyeballs in the forest have closed.

“Morgan, do you—” Morgan isn’t beside me anymore. “Morgan! Where are you?” I scream through the gnarled and twisted trees before jogging up the path, searching for signs of Toivo or Aoife.

I’m alone, the wind scrubbing away our footprints. In a few moments it’s as if I’ve always been here alone, all traces of the others erased.

I will not panic.

You’re panicking, the little voice provides a helpful rebuttal.

I’ll be fine.

You are not fine.

I’ll find them.

What if you don’t? You’ll be stuck here and you’ll die and everyone will be glad Taika the Talentless is gone, gone, gone.

Tears blur my vision, but I search the shadows between the branches for any sign of the others. I listen, too, straining my ears to hear beyond the blood thumping through my veins.

To my left, someone screams. I dive into the trees, not caring about the thorns tearing at my clothes and skin. Blue fire erupts all around me, and the trees screech as they burn. The eyeballs melt off the trees, dripping from the branches to form jellied puddles. I swallow down the rising sick. Halloween decorations, that’s all they are, I try to convince myself as I tiptoe my way through the steaming globs.

I follow the path the blue fire has charred It smells more like burnt plastic than burning pine. It doesn’t take long for me to find the others.

Toivo and Morgan are engaged in battle with what might be mistaken for a human child, if not for the horns protruding from the creature’s head and the flash of fangs. Aoife kneels in the snow, blood seeping from a wound in her shoulder where she’s been slashed by claws. But the wound doesn’t stop her from using her power. Pillars of earth erupt from the ground to shield Toivo and Morgan from attack.