Other strategies come and go as well. All equally bad. And then it’s too late, because the whistle is blowing, and Nuri is throwing the comet straight at me.

I catch it and start to run—there’s not much else for me to do at the moment—then realize, not for the first time, that while my gargoyle form does a whole lot for me, one thing it doesn’t do is give me speed and maneuverability. So I switch to human on the fly, and just as Cole and Marc close in on me, teeth bared in their werewolf forms, I dive into a portal.

I’m prepared for the stretching feeling, tell myself to just breathe through it. But this portal doesn’t feel like that at all. Instead of stretching me out, it feels like I’m being poked with hundreds of thousands of pins all over my body at the same time. Each individual pin doesn’t hurt much, but when put altogether, it’s excruciating.

Even worse, the ball is getting warmer and warmer in my hands and this portal seems to be taking forever.

I tell myself it’s not any longer than the other ones, that I won’t go over the thirty seconds, which is the longest I’ve ever been able to hold the comet, but it’s hard to think through the pain of being jabbed a million different times.

Then again, the pain is nothing compared to losing Jaxon and losing my parents, nothing compared to the guilt I feel over Xavier’s death or not believing Hudson sooner about his father.

It’s nothing, I remind myself, even as every inch of my skin stings. Nothing that matters and nothing that I can’t handle. I just need to hold on and breathe.

Finally—finally—I start to experience the weird surfacing-through-water feeling that comes with the beginning and end of a portal, and I brace myself to be emptied onto the field.

I manage to land on my feet this time, but I’m still disoriented, because in the small amount of time I was in the portal, the arena has gone dark. Like really, really dark.

The stands are so dark, I can barely see the audience, which makes their shouts and cheers and gasps feel completely disembodied. Even the lights on either end of the field seem to be darker than they were just a few minutes ago.

I tell myself I’m imagining things, but when I look around, I can no longer see all of the field. I can only see the portion around me—at least in my human form—which can only mean Cyrus did this on purpose.

Of course he did.

It’s a huge advantage for my opponents, because the wolves, dragons, and vampires can see perfectly in the dark, while I’m stuck squinting and trying to figure out which way I’m supposed to go.

The portal let me out about twenty yards from my goal line, so now I’ve got one hundred thirty left to go to get across theirs. The stone is burning red-hot in my hands, though, so I do the only thing I can do—I throw the ball as high into the air as I can, then shift on the run and launch myself into the air after it.

The wolves and witches can’t get me up here, and the dragons are all the way down the field, blocking their goal line, so it works. I snatch the ball out of the air and start to fly as fast as I can toward the goal, thankful that my gargoyle eyes work slightly better than my human ones do.

I know I’ll have to go low eventually—the dragons are racing straight at me as fast as they can, and while their magic doesn’t work on me, they can still knock me right out of the sky. They’re massive, and the fall is a lot from up here—I’ll end up shattered, in human or gargoyle form, for sure.

But as they get closer, I realize one is going low—they obviously learned from the trick I pulled during the Ludares tournament—and the avenue of escape I had planned is cut off from me. The clock on the side of the field says I’ve got fifteen more seconds before the ball starts to become untouchable again, which means I have to figure this out now.

I think about voluntarily turning the ball over to one of them—desperate times and all that—but I can’t bring myself to do it. So at the last minute, just when they start a pincher movement to squeeze me in, I shoot straight up, up, up into the air.

The dragons come chasing after me and I let them, bringing them in closer and closer the higher we get. I’m counting on the fact that Joaquin and Delphina have much bigger wings than I do—and are much heavier than I am—which means I should be able to turn around faster than they can. Or, here’s hoping, anyway…

Which is why, just as they’re about to get me—and just as the ball starts to turn superhot and vibrate—I drop it.

And then, as the crowd gasps and murmurs in surprise, I roll straight into a half somersault and go full-on diving after the ball.

The dragons bellow in rage, and blasts of fire and ice come shooting down after me. But I’m in my gargoyle form, so I barely notice as I race for the ball.

On the ground below me, one of the witches, Violet, tries to cast down the ball, but I get there before she manages to pull it to her. I swoop through her spell, causing her to shout—whether in rage or pain, I don’t know—and I scoop the ball up right out of the air again. Then I’m racing, racing, racing for the goal line with the dragons coming up fast behind me.

They’re closing in really fast, and though I’m immune to their powers, that doesn’t mean I can’t feel the brush of warmth as Joaquin’s fire sweeps past my leg. Much closer and they won’t have to use magic. They’ll be able to grab on to one of my feet and send me careening across the sky.

I’m not about to let that happen—not the grabbing on to me and definitely not the “sending me flying” thing. But a superfast glance over my shoulder shows me that pretty soon, I’m not going to have a choice. So I do the only thing I can think of—dart into one of the few midair portals.

As I do, I pray it’s not like the last one I entered. A girl can only take so many things going to shit around her at any given time, and I pretty much feel like I’m at my quota right now. Just saying.

Turns out it’s not at all like the last one I entered—it’s so much worse that I kind of want to cry.

I don’t even know what to think about this one, except to say that whoever thought it up was pure evil. Brilliant, yes, but also completely evil.

Something about the gravity is all messed up, and I end up freefalling through the portal while also spinning head over heels. With each spin, the top of my head and the back of my heels scrape against the walls of the portal and I get an electric shock every single time. It’s really, really not fun.

Even worse, from the scream I hear not too far behind me, at least one of the dragons chose to follow me into the portal and whoever it is is pissed. Then again, they’re so big, they must be scraping against the sides of the portal the whole time. I’m having trouble feeling sorry for them, but I wouldn’t wish that kind of shock/electrocution on anyone.

I try to take a guess at where we’re going to come out—and how I’m going to gain control enough to keep flying when we do—all while holding on to a ball that’s starting to vibrate hard again. And can I just say, it’s beginning to feel like overkill… Bad enough that I’ve got eight homicidal paranormals on my ass. I need to also have a ball that’s sole purpose seems to be to break me apart? I know Flint and Jaxon love Ludares, but I’m pretty sure it might be the worst. Game. Ever.

The portal finally ends, throwing me out into the near pitch black…and, I realize with horror, on top of someone.

What the hell? Afraid I landed on one of the werewolves, I start to push away, but then I realize I’m hearing human screams. And not one or two but several of them…all up close and personal.

Which means… I look around desperately, trying to get my bearings and find the goal at the same time, only to realize that I’m not even on the field anymore. This freaking defective portal dropped me off directly in the middle of the audience. Which means… Oh shit.

We’re about to get squashed.

“You need to move!” I shout. “Move now!”

Then I take off, flying right over my classmates’ heads even as I hope that they listen, that they manage to get out before… All kinds of screams ensue as Joaquin slides out of the portal and right into—and on top of—the crowd.

A glance behind me shows that Delphina follows right after him, belching ice, and the two of them manage to take out a whole section of arena seats—and the people sitting in them. Cyrus yells for order, and several teachers and Circle members race for the area, hoping to sort out the melee.

I make sure no one is seriously injured then take advantage of the ensuing chaos to toss the ball high enough in the air to reset it, then catch it again as I race back down toward the field. I’m in my gargoyle form, so despite the darkness, I can see well enough to figure out that I’m not that far from their goal line. I lay on the speed, heading toward that damn red line with every ounce of energy I can muster. I’ve got thirty seconds to get close to my goal and maybe, just maybe, figure out one more way to reset the ball without chancing losing it when I’m this close to the end. Now if everyone else on the field would also cooperate, I would really appreciate it.

But the upper balcony seats jut out over the field in this section, so I have to fly low in order to clear them. I do my best, dipping down and bringing my wings in low and close to my body as I make a beeline for the end. As long as the dragons remain tangled up with the spectators, I have a real chance.

I end up hitting the field about twenty feet from the goal line with the most intense tunnel vision of my life. I know things are going on behind me and around me, but I don’t care right now. If they were seriously injured, or about to be, the magic of the game would pull them out anyway. All I care about is getting to that damn goal line before the dragons—or anything else—catches me.

And if I could do it before my hands literally shake off my body from the ball vibrating so intensely, that would be great, too. But I’m low to the ground now, too low, so I start to climb up again as fast as possible.

I don’t make it. Quinn comes out of nowhere, in werewolf form, slamming into me so hard that he sends me careering into the ground.