I ran straight into it.

The locusts swallowed my arms, their sharp legs scratching my fingers, wrists, chest, face. Blind, I fell through the creature and out, beyond the limits of the vision. Locusts clung to me, but I slapped them off, then dropped to the ground and rolled, crushing those that remained. My legs streamed with blood from hundreds of bites.

“Deal with your own nightmares,” I snarled.

I staggered to my feet and when I raised my head, I saw the temple for the first time.

The building looked like it had grown right out of the rockface—the yellow walls curved and melded to the cliff at its back, and the roof rose high and peaked. Empty rings marked where there had once been stained-glass windows. At the temple’s base, the river coursed like a living creature, hissing and wild, the old bridge long since washed away. Smaller buildings clustered at the water’s edge, all of them overgrown with vines and trees, their foundations obscured by sheets of long grass.

The path of grace ended a hundred feet from the river, red soil crumbling into earth and grass. My stomach sank. The distance was too far; the path’s protection would not shelter me all the way. In this last stretch, I would be exposed.

With a fervent, wordless prayer, I broke into a sprint.

My world narrowed to just the temple, to just the shining, sunlit curve of the arched entrance, and my lungs emptied. I had no thoughts, no fear, no pain. I moved like light.

Declan Lars caught me.

I never heard him. He slammed into me from the side, taking us both down. With a crack, I felt one of my ribs break. I gasped and thrashed, but he was twice my size and far stronger; we tangled and he wrapped his hand around my neck. His touch was cold enough to burn me.

With a growl of victory, he sank his teeth into my shoulder.

I screamed. Lars’s face contorted in ecstasy, golden eyes shining, his pupils small as pinpricks. The agony increased; my vision went white. I tried to weave a net, but my tainted power was slick and slid away as I reached for it. Blood bubbled up in my mouth.

Lars’s teeth drew free from my shoulder. I struggled to rise, and he grinned, rows of unnaturally long teeth glistening. He clamped his hand down on my forehead, holding me still so that he could rip my throat out.

“Please,” I choked. “Please don’t.”

Just as I had been taken by surprise by his attack, Lars failed to see Finn until it was too late. His teeth grazed my skin and then he was thrown off me, slamming into the ground.

Finn had changed. His spine was bent and the skin on his face had turned colourless. He jerked me to my feet and pushed me toward the temple.

“I’ll deal with him,” he said, his voice like sandpaper, tongue struggling to form words. “Go.”