A twig snapped somewhere behind us. Then another, this time to our left. They had us surrounded.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Shadows shifted between the trees, and then they emerged, four figures dressed entirely in black, from their tactical boots to the masks covering their faces.

They moved with predatory grace, fanning out in a loose circle around us.

My fingers tightened around the small trowel in my hand. It was ridiculous, almost laughable—a gardening tool against whatever threat these people posed. But it was all I had.

“Stay behind me,” I said to Vanya and Cara, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Luna, we need to run,” Vanya whimpered.

“No sudden movements,” I...