Suddenly, deep in the Woods behind him, there came a howl.
Barclay scrambled to his feet. To his right, the trees shuddered. Then, to his left, footsteps scurried through the shade. A figure rushed by so fast, it was merely a blur.
“Barclayyyyyyyy,” Selby moaned from the top of the hill.
Barclay waved at him to hush. Behind him, Barclay heard the sound of something breathing. There was a low, guttural growl.
His heart pounded, and he desperately clutched his Beast-warding charm. It usually calmed him in dangerous situations, even ones without Beasts. It helped him clear his head enough to think his way out of trouble.
But then a pair of glowing eyes appeared through the trees.
He couldn’t think his way out of this.
The girl jumped down beside him. “Once Gravaldor walks closer to the jars,” she whispered, “the Lore will trap him here. Then I can bond—”
“I don’t think that’s—” Barclay started.
There was another growl, and she hushed him. But Barclay knew he was right. Gravaldor was massive and impossible to hide. And the mushroom she’d used wasn’t a Mourningtide Morel.
But it didn’t matter. Even if this wasn’t Gravaldor, she’d summoned something, and now they were all going to die.
The girl held her arms out, as though whatever Beast stalked around them could be tamed like a puppy. “Mitzi, help me.”
The baby dragon gave a low huff.
“Mitzi, we’ve talked about this!” the girl hissed. “If I’m going to be Grand Keeper one day, you can’t be my only Beast.” When Mitzi still did not comply, she added, “But you’ll still be my favorite!”
At this, Mitzi seemed to relax. She crouched low on the girl’s shoulder, prepared to attack whatever monster circled them. The girl glanced down at Barclay. “Now, don’t make any sounds. No sudden movements. We don’t want to alarm—”
“Barclayyyyyyy,” Selby cried again.
Everything next seemed to happen at once.
Something tore out from the trees, claws raised straight at them.
A light burst out of Mitzi’s mouth, so bright that Barclay had to close his eyes.
But even without his sight, he knew the growl he’d heard before. It was low-pitched and dangerous, the sort of sound a bully might make if they had backed Barclay into a dead-end alley. It was the sound of victory. It meant the predator had found its prey.
A breath blew hot against Barclay’s neck.
He ran. He ran as fast as he could.
He knew better than to flee. Many wild animals only attacked once the chase began. Barclay was basically asking the Beast to eat him. But as smart as Barclay might have been, he was too terrified to stop himself.
He heard the sound of footsteps pounding after him. He ignored them and quickened his pace. He was running faster than he ever had in his life. The gray trees blurred past him like a smear in the corner of his eyes, and the air that usually whipped at his face and knotted his hair had gone eerily still. It seemed impossible, but he swore he was going faster than the wind.
And the pair of eyes, he realized, weren’t behind him. They were beside him.
The Beast wasn’t running after him. It was runningwithhim.
The thought startled him so much, he tripped and fell facedown. When he groaned and rolled over, the last thing he saw was a mouthful of black teeth.
THREE
Barclay woke up covered in leaves, Selby and the girl panting over him.
“He’s dead!” Selby wailed.
