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The pressure vanished.

Drag, slap. Drag, slap.

It was moving away. The shadow’s hand withdrew from the door, and in my fog of fear and wonder, I had the thought that I should thank it—but its fingers trailed against my arm, and they were cold and sharp and the furthest thing from friendly.

“Ssssskin,” the shadow whispered into my ear.“Ssskin and bonesss and blood. But doesss it have a name?”

“Helen,” I whispered. “My name is Helen Vaughan.”

“Vaughan. Ah-ah-ahn. Name and blood and bonesss and ssskin,” it sang to itself, and drew away, the cold presence receding. I spun at last, but I only caught the fleeting edge of a shadow darting along the wall, and then it vanished in the gloom. I ripped open the door and plunged back into the hallway, desperate to get away from that thing.

That was a mistake.

The folded-up thing hadn’t left. It was still there, but it had unfolded itself. It was like someone had made a doll and gotten every joint wrong. It stood on turned-in feet, one knee knocked inward, the other leg bending once and then again, an extra joint at the center of its thigh. Its neck was long and twisted to and fro as it searched the hall—and then it saw me.

It moved in a rolling, rocking, jerking way, too fast for arandom collection of limbs. I screamed and bolted, sprinting down the hall. Not fast enough. Fingers tangled in my hair and yanked me back. My arms pinwheeled. I toppled against an emaciated ribcage, and the thing folded itself around me. I screamed as withered arms ratcheted tight around my chest, squeezing the breath out of me. Dull, square teeth tested my shoulder, and its breath smelled of dust.

“Go still,” someone said urgently. One gnarled hand splayed across my face. All I could make out beyond it was an indistinct figure, and in my panic, I couldn’t place the voice. I struggled against the creature’s grip. “Staystill,” they said again, and now I recognized Simon’s voice. “Helen, you have to listen to me. Don’t move. Not a muscle.”

Simon? What was Simon doing here? I swallowed. Forced myself to obey. Still. Still as stone. Still as old bones.

“Help is coming,” Simon said. “Just stay still, Scout. Don’t make a sound.”

Dry lips pressed against my shoulder and parted, teeth scraping over my skin. The thing moaned, and something clicked at the back of its throat, but I didn’t move, didn’t even breathe—

Help me. Please help me, I thought, but I didn’t dare speak, even a whisper.

“Be ready to run,” Simon said.

I couldn’t give any sign that I’d understood. Even the beating of my heart seemed too loud and too violent, and I willed it to slow.

“Look,” a voice whispered behind me. The creature twisted, its teeth leaving my skin. “Look what I have.” Eli.

The thing’s teeth chattered eagerly.

“You can have it. Go ahead.”

It spidered over me, moving quickly now on all fours. I spun as it released me. Eli stood in the hallway, half crouched, and between him and the creature was something pale and slender, set on the ground like bait.

A bone. A rib. The creature snatched it up and hunched over it, huffing in pleasure.

My eyes fixed on the bone. My skin prickled, and suddenly I felt as if time were moving in slow motion. I could feel the beat of my heart. Feel Eli’s heartbeat, hear his blood slushing through his veins. The creature had no heart. It was dead leaves and fungal flesh wrapped around those misconceived bones.

Its head twisted around to look at me again. “More,” it said, a wet and fleshy sound.

“Run!” Simon called. I bolted. Simon ran with me, ducking left. I followed. We raced through twisting hallways, and as the familiar pressure of Harrow’s relentless pattern grew behind my eyes, the creature stumbled and retched, slamming against the walls as if dizzy. “Don’t stop,” Simon urged. “Whatever happens, don’t stop.”

An exterior door stood at the end of the hall. I threw myself toward it. The knob stuck—I threw the deadbolt—I flung it open and leaped out, but a hand closed around my wrist, and flat teeth clamped over the meat of my palm with crushing force.

My hand went cold—not autumn’s chill, but the cold of a void glittering with black stars.

I screamed and twisted, slamming the door shut on thecreature’s head and shoulders as hard as I could, then again, and at last it released me. I raced out into the night alone. Simon was gone. Had the creature grabbed him?

Something rammed against the door. I couldn’t stop to see what it was. Simon would be okay. He had to be.

A light glowed among the trees, golden and soft. I plunged toward it. Branches lashed my face and arms, and pain stabbed through my bare feet. I raced into the edge of the circle of light and stumbled to a halt. Bryony and I stared at each other, me panting and bloodied, her in her gray dress with her flickering lantern held at her side.

“There’s—” I started to say. She pressed a finger against her lips, and then pointed.