When the lights came on, they blinded me. The blurry room pulsed, and I couldn’t focus on a solid thing.
Someone shrieked. “What’s happening?”
Ocean grabbed my elbow and helped me onto my feet.
“My head is on fire,” I seethed, stumbling to the side to search for support. When my hand touched the wall, I braced my spine against it, folding my body in half to keep away from the light. “Make it stop!”
“Everyone, give him some space,” Ocean commanded.
When nothing worked, I slammed my head against the wall, denting the wood. “Ocean!” and then another jarring burn scratched my brain. I stumbled toward the door, sweat sliding off me as if the fire had started in my head and was pumping heat from the inside out. “Ocean, what’s happening to me?” I shouted through the agony.
I wanted the snow. I wanted to be cold. I wanted to feel numb again.
“What’s happening to him?” Kioni asked, demanding an answer. Her voice was panicked as she held her fingers close to her mouth. “Someone do something!”
“It’s the Heathens,” Eleanor whispered. Squinting to see her, another wave of torture swept over me as a horrid expression appeared on her face. “Go, Stone! Run!”
My shoulders slammed into the walls as I stumbled out of the cottage.
Once the door was flung open, frigid winds crashed into my heated flesh and took my breath. It was still night with the quarter moon fastened high in the starless sky. I sucked in a breath, braving the pain, and staggered down the pathway to the gate.
I didn’t know where I was heading. All I knew to do was run.
I bolted barefoot into the woods until the canopies swallowed up the moonlight, and a blanket of snow hid every feature in the Norse Woods. Only a few yards later, overgrown roots and ruts tore apart my feet with their teeth. I could hardly feel it because I was numb up to my ankles, but I saw the trail of blood in my wake like crimson crumbs. Agony flashed through me again, and I grabbed my head as though I could take the pain into my hands and throw it into the sky.
Shrewd winds ripped past me, carrying a flock of defiantca-cawsscreaming out of sync. I looked up, squinting through the dark. There were ravens. Hundreds of them painted the white birch trees black, crowing with their wings flapping with a fierceness as though their heads were being smashed by rock, too.
From behind, a cluster of bats cut through the air, swooping low and charging at the back of my head. I ducked to avoid them, and my ankle gave out, my foot catching on a root.
In my effort to catch my fall, I flew forward and collided with a tree, its trunk somber white, its bark scarred black. My heartbeat was in my ears, and cotton was in my throat. Each time I took a breath, it wasn’t full but filtered. I looked up, catching the bats rising into the canopy and disappearing into darkness.
I rested my forehead against the tree to take a stable breath, and a handful of ghostly white moths sprang from the bark and flitted into my face.
Their wings spun me around as I jumped backward, swiping them away. They then took off in the same direction as the bats.
They were guiding.
The creatures of the night wanted me to follow them.
Another hammering throb beat against my temples, and I suffered through it, squeezing my eyes closed and grinding my jaw before taking off into another run. My head was pounding, making the woods seem to be shrinking into a tunnel. Below, snakes slithered across the snow, leaving behind drag marks. On both sides of me, spiders skittered from tree to tree, their webs like frozen lace draping in between.
I didn’t stop until my feet touched pavement.
Tires screeched in the distance, and to my left, two beams from a moving vehicle lit up a brick building as it reversed. Then two red taillights as the car drove off.
I pressed against my side, imploring my lungs to calm as I walked toward the building.
With each step closer, the fire in my temples slowly faded.
As my vision blurred, I squinted until the next thing I knew, I was standing in an empty parking lot and staring at a sign reading Voodoos Bar.
Both doors were thrown open, and music spilled out into the night. Drums, guitars, and a sad, lonely voice. Each time an icy wind swept through the lot, it muffled the song’s cries and swung the doors slightly from side to side.
All the lights inside were out. Except for one.
I inched toward the opened doors, dread pooling in my gut. A pendant light barely swayed above the bar. Its light was the color of vintage yellow and bounced off broken glass. With misery trapped in every reflection, the room was smashed sorrow.
Chairs had been knocked over, tables flipped on their sides, and a stench of alcohol and death loomed in the air. I walked around them, squinting through my migraine, expecting a horrific scene on the other side of the bar.
