I froze, crushed petals fluttering from my fingertips like drops of blood.
“No.” The word scraped from my throat as the warmth drained from my bones.
I’d cried out to Hathor, and something else had answered.
“Sera?” His grip tightened. “What is it?”
“It’s them,” I whispered. “They’re coming.”
Chapter Nineteen
SERAFINA
“Mount up.”Thorne gripped my waist and tossed me into the saddle. My ass slapped the leather, and I cursed. In a flash, he untied our leads and mounted his own horse.
Reins clenched in my hands, I tried to guide my mare’s head, but she fought me, straining against the bit.
“Move, damn you.” Thorne drove his heels into his horse’s flanks. The beast screamed, side-stepping his efforts to move forward.
“What’s happening?” I shouted.
My horse reared, forelegs flailing. I shrieked as the world tilted, and I hit the ground. Air punched from my lungs, pain stabbing my hip.
“Sera! Watch out,” Thorne’s boots struck the dirt beside me.
Strong arms clamped around my body, yanking me away from stomping hooves. My vision cleared, and I uttered a curse. Churning soil encased the horse’s legs. They whinnied and thrashed, every struggle sinking them deeper.
Another sinkhole. Just like in Nefarr. The monsters were attacking from underground.
“Here.” Thorne thrust the knapsack of herbs into my arms. “We need to get to higher ground. Somewhere the wendigos can’t drag you under.”
We set off, racing into the village square. Everywhere I looked, people ran for their lives, shouting. My feet tangled with Thorne’s, and we fell together, a twisted pile of limbs.
I panted, shoving hair from my face and glancing back at what had knocked us down. From the mound of erupting soil, a head and torso jutted.
“But it’s still daylight,” I gasped. “I thought the wendigos only came out at night.” How dare they break the rules now.
“That’s not a wendigo.” Thorne’s tone was grave.
The creature clawed its way out of the ground with spindly arms. Ragged clothes hung from its emaciated frame. Where its eyes should be were two blackened orbs.
“Wh-what is that thing?”
Whereas the wendigos were skeletal with leathery flesh, this nightmare resembled the mortals. Only soulless, sucked dry, and long deceased.
Screams rang out. All around the square, the strange creatures crawled out of their holes.
“Flark me,” Thorne groaned. “It’s ghouls.”
“What the hell is a ghoul?”
“When the wendigos infect their victims instead of consuming them, they become ghouls. Whatever you do, don’t let them bite you.”
There was something oddly familiar about the ghoul who lumbered in our direction. Lank curls clung to her scalp. Knotted around the creature’s waist was a stained, ruffled apron.
“It’s Cookie,” I gasped.
“It’s a what?”
