“The… Ghost… Clan… is… calling…”

The words tore out of him—ragged, alien—like they’d been dragged across broken glass.

“What?” The single word slammed against Jared’s ribs.

Luther lunged forward, his form blurring into a streak of black that shot toward the heart of the forest. The speed eclipsed anything he’d ever shown before.

“Wait!” Jared chased after him, anxiety and confusion twisting tight in his chest.

For nearly an hour they tore through the undergrowth—one ahead, one behind. Gradually, the distance between them shrank as Luther’s pace began to falter. His legs shook.

At last, he collapsed against the trunk of a massive tree. The abyss in his eyes receded, fading back to their usual black and white.