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I tore around the next-to-last corner. Almost there. One final turn, then—BLAM!—right into . . . Dana!
The crash threw her into the wall, and I fell flat on my face.
I leaped up and pulled her to her feet. "Dana! I'm such a klutz! Are you okay?"
She looked into my eyes. Her long brown hair was tangled. Her cheeks were beyond pale. "Owen, I know the real reason my parents went to Iceland. The monsters. They're coming here. But you can't tell a soul, not yet—"
I stepped back. "Monsters? Dana, what are you—"
"Find the book! In my house. It'll tell you everything. It's not like the others."
"Dana—" I thought I heard someone at the far corner. Before I could see who it was, thick black smoke billowed up from the floor under Dana's feet. The air roared like a jet engine. And I heard words—hissing—as if from a million miles away.
Dana's face went white. "HELP!"
She threw something at me. Flames shot up in a ring around her feet, the floor split open, and she fell straight down. I saw eyes, dozens of them. And shiny black stuff. And thrashing shapes. And fire.
"Dana?" I shouted. "Dana!"
But an instant later, the floor sealed up, the fire vanished, and Dana was gone.