The bridge is coming up now. I grab hold of any decorations I can reach as we streak past, flinging them in the path of our pursuers. A lantern smashes, spreading fire up a strand of banners, and a faerie appears on the eaves of one of the houses, giddily playing a small flute that makes the flames dance and leap. That isn’t exactly my fault, but it helps, too. One of the guards has to stop to deal with the fire, waving the others on to follow us.

I catch a sideways grin on Isolde’s face as she looks back at the chaos. Confused and outraged shouts trail us with every step. Each heavy breath stabs my ribs with pain, and my limbs are starting to ache. But I can’t stop. I can’t allow myself to feel it.

“Stop those girls!” one of the remaining guards shouts.

My heart takes a break from pounding painfully to twist, but I don’t have time to worry. We’re crossing back into Market Square now, and everyone is too busy with their own merrymaking to worry about a few petty thieves. We squeeze right into the thickest part of the press of bodies and slow, but I still can’t catch my breath as we shove and elbow people out of our way.

A wall of people cuts in front of us. The music on this side of the bridge is still going strong, pounding in my head. I turn in place, trying to fight my way through.

“Got you!”

Suddenly, I’m hauled back by the collar. My hand slips, and before I know what’s happening, Isolde is lost in the crowd. I choke as the hand squeezes the back of my dress, pulling me into the arms of the city guard. My hands flail uselessly, and my feet kick as I try to free myself, but he doesn’t let go. He’s taller than me and at least twice my weight; there’s no question about which of us is stronger.

The guard’s head tilts in confusion, taking in for the first time that my face is identical to Isolde’s. “Wait...”

“LET—ME—GO!” I choke out, trying desperately to kick his knees. My head thrashes as I try to find Isolde in the crowd. She’ll come back. She’ll find me. We’re still going to get out of this.

The guard lets out a heavy sigh. “Look, it’s Revelnox. Don’t you think I have enough to do without—”

And then he really does look confused and surprised. I half expect blood to start leaking through his shirt, to see the tip of Isolde’s knife and her sharp, focused eyes. But she’s not here, and he hasn’t been stabbed. Instead...

It all happens so fast.

A pained cry escapes his lips as his teeth grow, gums stretching aside with a wet, disgusting noise. The cartilage of his nose cracks and bends as his skull reshapes itself, stretching horrifically out of proportion around wide eyes being swallowed by the dark brown of his irises. Short, gray hairs poke from every pore like eager seedlings, covering his face within the space of a heartbeat.