Absorbed in watching Lattie's transformation, I didn’t immediately notice that Cortez was trying to run away. The second I did, the Old One flooded new power through me. A low, sinister laugh-growl rolling from my throat, I sprinted across the croquet courts after him. Pulling parallel and dropping my pace to match his, I barked, "I’m poison; you lose!" Grabbing a double handful of his hair, I sped up. Halfdragging him through fields of wickets, I steered him along, then hurled him forward. Off-balance and utterly out of control, he slammed into a mountain of strawberries and nearly drowned in a tidal wave of molten chocolate. I walked over, and filling my fist with his right ankle, I hauled him back to the pavilion.