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“I think you better run now,” Ares adds.

Clay takes a few steps toward me, and I turn and run, but there is no way this is ending the way they think.

The alley is loud and full of people as I race through it, but no one looks my way. Apparently, a woman running at full speed is nothing they haven’t seen before.

I pass the gift shop and a man in a doctor’s mask turns to watch me. I don’t slow down, ducking beneath a string of lights hanging between two posts, and coming out the other side.

The circus tent is lit up, and I dash toward it, pushing through the entrance flap. The music in here is deafening, and there is a man in the center of the ring wearing a devil mask. He tips his head back and breathes out fire. I wish I could stop and watch, but I keep moving, running past Karo on his platform, where a woman is strapped to his spinning board. She is laughing, and Karo has blades in his hands. He releases one, and it lands beside her head.

I find the rear entrance and race back outside.

The cornfield looms ahead, and I move toward it, coming to a stop when I reach the edge. Vero warned me about coming here, and I saw the genuine fear in his eyes when he told me.

Fuck it—I take a step inside.

The corn is so tall it swallows me, and the sound it makes as I move forward has my heart thumping. But fuck them; I would rather face the Scarecrow than let them catch me. I don’t bother running, as from what I’ve been told, he will already know I’ve entered his domain and he will be watching.

I see him when I get to the center of the field. If you didn’t know, you would think he was a fake scarecrow put here to scare away the crows, but I know differently. I pause. He is eerily still—maybe he didn’t hear me. His head is bowed, and his arms hang at his sides.

Then his head whips up.

I don’t make any sudden movements as he drops from his post and lands on bare feet. He straightens and circles me.

I turn with him, not wanting to take my eyes off him. He finally stops, and he is so tall I have to strain my neck to stare at his face. His amber eyes look as if they are almost glowing, and he has dark and messy hair that sticks out from under a floppy hat. His clothes are old and torn, with straw poking out of his shoulders and collar, and there’s rope around his neck. Damn, he has really nailed his costume.

“Most people run when the noise gets too loud. But I am what stays. I am what sits on the floor with you when you cannot get up. I am rarer than love, and most people never truly find me.”

His voice is strange, sounding as if it originates further away than his mouth. I stare at him, and he tilts his head.

“Answer the riddle wrong and you will get lost in here,” he says slowly. “Right answer means I won’t follow you out, and one day you will repay the favor.”

“A friend,” I say without overthinking my answer.

He goes completely still as I hold his gaze. I don’t look away, because it feels like if I do, I might get lost either way. He tilts his head at a weird angle as he looks at me and narrows his eyes.

“No one ever answers right,” he says.

“Then you need a better riddle.”

He stares at me for a minute and steps back. “You have my protection. I won’t let them find you.”

He turns and walks into the cornstalks, and I watch until I can no longer see him. In the distance, I hear Vero yell “this way,” and I move faster, heading toward their house. Though I don’t know what I plan to do when I get there. Vero calls my name, but I keep walking, the rows seeming to go on forever.

When I come out on the other side, it’s not where I was planning. I’m at the cemetery.

“Nobody move,” Brawley says, and then Vero screams.

I laugh; it serves them right.

“Why is he not blinking? What is wrong with him? Someone tell me what’s wrong with him. Oh shit, oh shit, I’m going to pass out. BRAWLEY! He just touched me—he just reached out and touched my face. Someone help me! Stop laughing—this isn’t funny. Oh fuck. Fuck! What is he going to do with that? What even is that? Is that a sword made out of corn? Can you make a sword out of corn? Is that a real thing? Can you die by corn sword? I don’t want to die by corn sword—that is not how I go out. Nobody put death by corn sword on my grave, or I will come back and haunt you. BRAWLEY, IF YOU ARE LAUGHING, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU! Why is he still not blinking?” Vero’s words during the karmic justice have me stifling a cackle.

Hoping to use the distraction to slip away, I turn, but bump into a solid body. A hand tangles in my hair, forcing me to look up and meet Clay’s eyes.

“You should have kept running.”

“I should have,” I sass, and he grips my hair tighter and pulls me into his body. “But I plan to make this difficult for you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he replies, and my body betrays me. I may want this, but I still won’t make this easy on them. They don’t deserve that.