We leapt into a sprint without hesitation. I pushed my legs to move faster, praying I wasn’t walking off the path because I wasn’t looking down. I kept my eyes on Bentley in front of me and my grip on Tegan’s arm. A cool gust of wind brushed over my back and swept through my hair like someone was running their fingers through it. But there was no one there. Ice-cold hands made of smoke grabbed me by the arms just like last time, but this time Tegan wasn’t playing it safe. She sliced her hands through the air and the hands on me vanished. But I refused to let her be the only defense here, so I threw my hands out and shot my magic. Blue and pink flames spread like a wildfire around us.

A soft, faint humming sound whispered through the trees. It sounded like a softer version of a church’s organ. I felt the rumble of the tone in my bones. My gaze locked on the blue flame in front of us. It flickered and swayed in the opposite direction, like it was urging us on, like it knew something we didn’t.

“Not that noise again,” I grumbled. “How far, Bentley?”

“Not close enough!” he shouted back.

My breaths were short and tight. And then the drums started. Butterflies danced in my stomach. The hairs on my arms stood tall. Each beat sent vibrations up my legs and into my bones. The ground rumbled. Every muscle in my body tensed. The drums pounded feverishly, and my pulse mimicked. My fingers tingled and I felt myself grow weaker. The branches hanging low over the trail dropped to the ground and landed on four legs. My stomach rolled. I wanted to scream. These things had haunted my sleep. They didn’t have hands or feet. Their arms and legs were made of solid white and tapered down to points. Their backs were curved like a humpback’s but had sharp spikes along the spine. These creatures had tiny round heads with big, gaping black holes where eyes should have been.

Red lightning pierced the creatures’ heads, pulling their attention away from us.

The others gasped. We all stopped short.

“Deacon?” someone shouted.

But no, that couldn’t have been Deacon. He was clinging to life back in Eden.

Red lightning streaked through the trees in every direction, followed by a low, feminine laughter. A girl with bright, shining silver eyes and pale-brown hair braided on one side stepped out from behind a tree with red lightning shooting from her fingertips. “Well, well, well, look what walked itself into a trap.”

“Libby,” Cooper whispered in a broken voice.

“And without Tenn? Tsk, tsk, tsk . . .” She shook her head, then a wide grin spread across her pretty yet wicked face. “What a silly thing to do . . . Tegan.”

“Libby . . .”