“Get up, quick!” he yells. “There’s a burnt-out barn back there.” He hauls me to my feet and points straight ahead. “C’mon! Go! GO!”

He runs. I follow. We explode through the plants into a wide firebreak, long and straight between two rows of wind-hammered stalks. Ahead, I see the charred hulk. The wreck of a hay-stacking barn, maybe. Its slate roof shattered, ash-black beams naked to the sky.

I feel a stitch in my side, like a broken rib. It’s screaming at me to stop running. I steal a look back over my shoulder and I see it.

Panic slices through me.

The Reaper wheels—and, oh god, it comes.

“MALIK!” I yell.

“Go! Go! GO!” Malik shouts over his shoulder.

We sprint along the firebreak towards the burnt-out barn. Malik streaks ahead. He runs lightly, on his toes. I’m losing ground, falling back. I know the Reaper’s gaining on me. Then I feel a pull, a weight tugging me backward, into oblivion.

There’s a putrid smell. A stench of rot.

It descends. I feel it.

And I know—I know—I’m not going to make it.

Malik must sense it too, because he stops running and turns, wide-eyed.

My fingers reach for the hilt of Ra, but it’s too late. It feels like a ton of bricks slams into me, and I face-plant.

I can’t move. I’m pinned to the ground, squashed under a massive weight. My face is mashed into the ice and dirt. Stones cut into my cheeks and I taste coppery blood in my mouth. Lightning pain shoots down my back. Something burning-sharp pierces skin and muscle.

So, this is it then. This is how I die.

My body slumps. I’m numb. In shock.

The world begins to spin and blur. I hear a voice far away, down a tunnel.

“Let her go!”

I’m plucked off the ground and jerked into the air—a savage pull.

I try to block out the pain and narrow my focus to one thing: getting rid of the Reaper on me. I force myself to breathe.

Stay calm, Ana.

Think!

Heat pumps round my body. An energy surges through me, fingertips to toes. I clench my fists and, at the top of my voice, I scream. Then I twist my shoulders around. The Reaper screeches and I feel its hooks ripping out my skin.

I fight through waves of agony, and I feel the last hook tear out of my flesh.

Then I drop.

But something clamps around my ankle and I jerk and swing.

The Reaper’s claw. Like a vice.

Ana, the SWORD! Use your sword.

I’m upside down in the air, dangling, arms hanging.

The sky is above.