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Lori spreads her arms on each side of her and summons her shadow daggers to life. The weapons emit a tiny hissing sound at the direct contact with the sun rays, struggling to take shape. They blink in and out of existence as Lori presses her lips together in a grim line.

A second and a third spider creep inside the building, and her arms fall limply at her sides. “Run, Nell!”

Acting purely on instinct, we dash out of the library and bolt the golden-plated doors shut behind us, sealing the monsters in—at least for a moment.

“What are they? I’ve never seen nightmares like these before, and for them to attack in broad daylight—” Lori starts.

“They’re dreamcatcher spiders. One killed one back in New York,” I explain quickly.

We’re near the entrance of the tunnels, but before we take cover under the breezeway, a man’s voice blares through the vegetation. “Help!”

I can’t identify the voice because the cry is too distorted and faint. Lori and I search the gardens for the source of the scream and follow the sound toward the gym. I snatch a crossbow from the wall and load it with a silver bolt before strapping the quiver to my belt.

The sliding door at the back of the humongous room hangs open, and we hurry over to it, but I slow down near the start of the running trail.

Blood peppers the path I’ve passed through about four times a day since I first came to Faerie. Way too much blood.

“What are you doing? Leave them alone! Help! Help!”

Lori’s daggers burn like black fire on each side of her, and she dashes forward.

James sits in a giant pool of red in the middle of the path, surrounded by death. A hint of frost ices the blood, and I catch a glimpse of a white specter fleeing the scene.

The sight of my fellow seed drenches me in cold sweat, and I run toward him. “James! Are you alright?”

“The spiders came from nowhere. I couldn’t help them,” he says in a state of absolute shock. A pulse of blood oozes from his mangled neck. “I couldn’t fight, so I played dead, and this—this thing came for them.”

“A reaper…” Lori trails off, white as a sheet.

Next to James, Fiona’s and Mitchell’s bodies sag over the earth, their limbs crooked at unnatural angles. Nasty burns riddle what’s left of their skin. Lori bends over them to check their pulses in turn, but there’s no question that they’re already dead. Both were half-eaten by the same type of spider One killed that dreadful night in New York, and my frazzled heartbeats pound at my temples.

No nononono.

“We were heading towards the tunnels. Jo was supposed to go to the bibliotheca to warn you guys,” James croaks.

Lori and I exchange a terrified glance. “Can you stand? We have to find Jo.”

James wraps an arm around both our shoulders, but he can’t hold his own weight, and he’s way too heavy for Lori and I to carry.

“Give me a second. I’ll heal him.” I press both my hands to his wound and push my magic forward. The healing comes quick, with an ease I’ve never known, and my brows furrow.

James squeezes my upper arm, his breath still ragged but coming in easier than before. “Thanks, Nell.”

“Let’s go!” Lori pushes us forward, and the shadow huntress watches our rear until we turn the corner.

I clench my hand tight around the stock of the crossbow as we make our way around the hedges to the clearing in front of the trainee’s balcony.

“Jo! We’re here!” Lori shouts as loudly as she can, and James and I follow suit.

Jo erupts from the library, a long black scimitar in his hand. “You’re alright?”

“Yes. Let’s get inside the tunnels.”

A dark blotch of movement darts out of the bushes, and Jo lets out a guttural scream. The spider runs past him and crawls across the Hawthorn’s trunk. Its claws carve deep white scars in the bark of the Shadow Court’s sacred tree, and my stomach cramps.

Jo holds pressure to the lash in his injured arm. The spider must have sampled him for dinner as it ran by.

Another spider tiptoes out of the same bushes, and Jo goes on the offensive as Lori dashes forward to kill the one desecrating the Hawthorn. I sit James down on a flat rock. The man is still fighting for breath. He must have lost a ton of blood.