to watch me go.
Finally, I reached the entry hall. The sorcerer was nowhere to be seen, but
I still obeyed his will.
I unlocked the five latches on the front door one at a time. Then I swung
it wide and stepped out onto the porch. Six more agonizing steps took me
down to the sidewalk and another dozen took me to the curb.
Then my body stopped with an unsteady jolt.
“Remember to look both ways,” the sorcerer’s distant voice echoed in my
mind—an intrusive, violating feeling—unlike the familiar snarl that echoed
back in response.
But despite my rage, my head turned left. Then right. I was truly alone.
My foot lifted off the still warm pavement and stepped onto the dry, dusty
asphalt of the street.
I stopped short when I reached the middle. Every part of my soul
screamed in agony, but I couldn’t move a muscle more. I just stood, petrified,
beneath the deep yellow glow of the streetlights.
Then a shadow swept over me, and my already pounding heart
accelerated to a breakneck pace.
With an ominous shudder, the street shook as something landed behind
me.
I couldn’t turn my head or even tilt my eyes, but I still could sense the
overwhelming power of the thing. The signature of its magic smelled of deep,
sickly pungent flowers and tasted of overripe fruit. It sounded like the
deafening buzz of millions of cicadas and felt like sap creeping over my skin.
As I stood there, unable to move, an enormous, blurry shape methodically
moved into the corner of my transfixed gaze. Something of unimaginable size
and horror.
Step by shuddering step, it shifted into view, blocking the light from the
streetlamps.
A shudder quaked through me.