Page 120 of Veil of Night & Flames

Since it’s bad form to blow off people who grade your tests, I reply that I’d be happy to meet her, then shift my trajectory toward the Science Center. I pick up my pace, too, because her class should be letting out right about now.

And, sure enough, she steps through the south doors right as I’m approaching the building. I catch the moment when she sees me, and I wave.

“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice,” she calls out as I head toward her, and I’m about to tell her it’s no problem when I see movement over her shoulder. And then, as I watch with horror, a woman comes out of nowhere to stand right behind Valdez. Tall and cloaked with a hood thrown forward so I can’t see her face.

Kali?

And then there’s a blade. And then there’s blood. And then I’m screaming and then Professor Valdez is nothing more than a rag doll, motionless on the sidewalk, and all I hear is the sound of my own lingering scream, and the hard, horrible pounding of my heart.

I only realize I’ve fallen to my knees when a guy on his cell with 911 helps me to my feet. I turn in a circle, my face wet with tears, but the woman is gone—and Valdez is dead, her throat slashed wide open.

Then I’m running and trying to call Chase, but it’s too much, and I collapse in the faculty lot against a silver Toyota, and idly wonder if maybe it belonged to her.

Oh, God. What is going on?

I hit the speed dial button again, then glower at my phone. “Dammit, Chase, pick up, pick up, pick up⁠—”

Voicemail.

The second it beeps, I blurt out everything, though I have to start over twice because my throat is too clogged with tears.

“I’m heading to Griff’s now,” I finally manage to say. “Meet me there.” And then I hang up and go back to running.

My route from the Science Center to the Griffin’s Nest will take me through the quad and past the Widow Maker, and I keep my eyes open for mares crossing over, but I don’t see any.

A random attack on Valdez? Why?

I don’t know, and I’m too winded to delve deep. By the time I’m approaching the cordoned-off Widow Maker, I’m gasping, but it’s worth it, because I see Tia and Mr. Griffin across the quad, probably coming from the Griffins’ Nest, and warm relief courses through me.

I try to call out, but I’m too winded, and so I racewalk toward them. I’m about to try another shout when Griffin reaches into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out something small. I can’t see what, but he presses it into Tia’s hand, folds her fingers around it, then says something I can’t hear but clearly causes a teary-eyed Tia to capture him in one long hug.

Then Mr. Griffin starts heading in my direction, so I reach up, frantically waving him over, and I clock the exact moment that he notices me. At first the corners of his eyes crinkle with his growing smile, but then that smile turns flat—he must have noticed what a mess I am.

Then he’s running toward me, and I try to take a step toward him, only to realize I can’t because something warm and wet is wrapped around my ankle, and Mr. Griffin is screaming my name.

A cold shiver cuts through me, and I yank my leg forward. Or I try to. I can’t. And when I look down, panic spreads through me as I see why—the dead growth that’s been spreading has not only begun to rot, but that rot is alive. And now it’s wrapped around my leg and squeezing like a python.

It’s cold and hot at the same time, and though I try to pull my leg free, I can’t.

I try again, and it tugs harder, knocking me down and then dragging me toward the dark gaps formed by the Widow Maker’s twisted roots, and I scream and scream and scream.

“Cora!” Tia’s answering cry seems to set the air on fire, but not enough to burn away the rot.

Then another coil snaps around my waist, and I’m on my knees, and I’m being dragged toward the maw.

I grab at the grass. I try to get a purchase on the dirt. I try to just leave and send myself to another realm. Any realm.

But I can’t. All I can do is twist and wriggle and fight—but it’s useless. I’m trapped, and I know it, and I don’t have a clue what to do next.

And then—as if that horrible feeling of helplessness wasn’t enough—I see it.

The breach at the Widow Maker has grown from a sliver to a gaping maw, deep and black and oddly glowing. Except it’s not the maw that’s glowing—it’s what’s coming through it.

Creatures.

All sorts of creatures.

So many moving so fast that I can’t make them out, but this is where the Threnir crossed, so I’m not too keen on meeting what’s barreling toward me.