Prologue

  A pair of panting figures stood across from each other amidst the clearing of a darkened forest. The night storm whipped a frenzy of rain-filled wind. It howled through the bowing, shivering, clattering evergreens and whistled through the meadow. Atop a slight crest stood a breathless witch.

  The wind tore at her tattered black robes. She held her arm up to shield her face; her black boots slopped in the mud as she braced herself against the storm. In her other hand, she held out a long, thin wand. The witch scanned the area, her arm quivering expectantly. Thunder rumbled above her.

  A blinding flash of lightning revealed a figure on the opposite edge of the clearing for only a moment. Her vision darkened as the lightning bolt receded. Through the blackness, the witch could still see the even blacker outline of the figure’s fiendishly curved horns and outstretched, bat-like wings protruding from its back. Parts of the bone were stuck in unnatural positions, and holes filled the thin, veiny membrane.

  “This is your last chance, witch!” The devil bellowed from the pitch darkness. He, too, was panting. “Give him to me, and I’ll spare you! A devil never goes back on their deals!” It almost seemed like he was pleading.

  “No!” The witch roared, her voice raw with desperation. She could never give Thomas up. She ignored the blood that trickled from her forehead and mixed with the rain that slapped against her skin. She took another gasping breath and shouted, “This is your last chance to abandon your futile quest!” The exhausted witch was mostly bluffing. Her shoulders heaved with every desperate breath, and she didn’t know how much longer she could go on. She needed to end it. With a shaky hand, she raised her wand skyward and began to mutter an incantation.

  “Impudent witch!” The devil cried. He pounded through the mud toward her and dove forward with outstretched claws.

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  The witch swiftly ripped her wand downwards.

  KATHOOM!

  A flash of white erupted and enveloped the clearing. The rumble of thunder shook the witch to her bones and drowned out her screams as her electrified body hurtled backward through the air. Her stomach churned as the feeling of weightlessness overtook her, and her limbs grew limp. Her vision was black except for the scrambled fray of purple, blue, and black lightning bolts swimming in her eyes. She tumbled into the mud, then slid to a stop. Her muscles spasmed and jerked as she struggled to her hands and knees. Her vision and hearing slowly, painfully returned.

  The familiar comfort of her wand was gone. Panic enveloped the witch. She scrambled in the dark for her wand until another white flash of lightning revealed it embedded in the mud, broken in two, and smoldering. Beyond it lay the devil's body atop the scorched hilltop where the witch had summoned the lightning. The blackened fiend groaned and began to rouse.

  Determined fury enveloped the breathless witch as she struggled to her feet. She huffed as she slipped and stumbled over to him. The devil lay on his back, dazed. She stepped over his torso, dropped herself onto his chest, and wrung his neck with both of her burnt hands. The red-skinned devil struggled lamely until he suddenly became alert, then thrashed and grasped at the witch. He tore at her with his black claws, shredding her robe and skin. The witch screamed in pain. Yet still, she held tight. She resisted every buck and pushed harder onto the devil’s neck, slipping her legs around his torso. His eyes began to bulge, and panic spread across his face. His scrabbling turned into a frenzy of clawing limbs until he sank his claws deep into the sides of the witch’s torso, shattering her ribs and piercing her lungs. The witch cried out but still did not relinquish his neck.

  Cold rain slapped against her bloody, tattered skin. Her head grew light. She knew the end was nigh. Calmness seeped over her as she accepted her fate; adrenaline numbed her rapidly deteriorating injuries. But she refused to give up and let the devil walk away with only bruises.

  With the last dregs of her quickly fading energy and awareness, the witch inched one hand up the devil’s ridged face and plunged her thumb deep into his eye. The devil screamed and bucked and scrambled as the witch dug deeper into his head, exploring with her thumb and destroying anything soft until all feeling slowly began to fall away. The wailing devil flung the limp witch off him. She tumbled in the mud and settled on her back, staring at the cloudy night sky as the trees billowed in the windswept rain that battered her body. But she didn’t feel a thing. Eventually, everything faded away.