Chapter Thirty-Two #2
Green light sparked at the tips of my fingers before I even realized I was reaching for the magic.
Hedge magic always answered like that…quiet, stubborn, and a little wild.
The air around my hands stirred, and vines began to wind outward, not from the ground but from the spell itself, twisting toward the shadow as if they’d been waiting for it.
The shadow lunged, but the vines caught it first. They snapped tight around it, brambles digging in as the darkness twisted and fought against them.
It pulled and strained, its shape slipping and stretching like smoke trying to force its way through a crack.
Then something shifted in the air around us.
I felt it more than saw it. The veil between worlds thinned for a heartbeat, just enough to open a way through.
My hand moved on instinct, and I pushed.
The magic carried the bound shadow sideways through that narrow tear between realms, the vines dragging it with them until the darkness slipped out of this world entirely.
The seam closed as quickly as it opened, leaving nothing behind but a fading shimmer of green light at my fingertips and the sudden, quiet stillness of the woods.
Rendel stared at the bramble wall a moment longer than necessary.
“You can do that,” he said.
“Now isn’t the moment to sound impressed.”
“It wasn’t out of admiration.”
That might have annoyed me if a cluster of shadows hadn’t dropped from the branches like a flock of black birds shot straight out of the sky.
“Down!” I shouted.
Skonk didn’t duck.
He swung the broom in a wide arc and actually connected with one. The shadow spun sideways into a tree trunk and splattered across the bark like spilled ink before slowly dragging itself back together. The broomstick had more magic than just for riding.
Twobble was already moving. He darted in front of me, muttering so quickly the words blurred together, and slapped both palms against the ground.
A circle of light raced outward through the roots and stones around us, forming a thin glowing boundary.
One shadow struck it and jerked back with a furious hiss.
Twobble grinned wildly. “Ha!”
Two more hit the barrier from opposite sides.
The glow flickered.
Twobble’s grin disappeared. “Less ha.”
The woods were full of them now.
They swarmed between the trees and circled overhead in shifting, ragged shapes—never quite solid, never entirely smoke. The afternoon light had already begun to fade, and with every new shadow joining the frenzy, the sky seemed to drop another inch.
Gold turned gray.
Then darker gray.
It felt wrong watching daylight lose ground that quickly.
Rendel backed toward us, silver light still burning along his hand.
“This is my fault,” he said grimly.
“You think?” Twobble squeaked.
Rendel ignored him. “I thought I could move without drawing attention.”
“And instead?” I demanded, throwing another surge of Hedge magic into the boundary as the ring flickered again.
“And instead,” he said quietly, “I led them straight to you.”
“Who are they?” Skonk shouted.
Rendel looked up as a knot of shadows twisted tighter overhead.
“They guard the shadow stone.”
The words had barely left him when one of the shadows broke formation and dove straight for his face.
He raised his arm too late, and I didn’t think.
I shoved him sideways, and the shadow grazed my shoulder instead.
It felt like being dragged through freezing cobwebs and fire at once. Heat flashed through me fiercely, followed by freezing.
“Maeve!” Twobble screamed.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
I was absolutely not fine.
My shoulder burned. My birthmark pulsed like it was trying to break through my skin. The world had gone thin around the edges, every sound a little too sharp.
Rendel dropped to one knee beside me.
“It touched you.”
“Yes,” I said through my teeth. “I noticed.”
His hand hovered near my arm but didn’t quite touch it.
“They mark what they touch.”
Twobble made a strangled noise. “What does that mean?”
Before Rendel could answer, the shadows shifted.
Until then, they’d attacked like animals…wild and chaotic. Now they pulled back together, climbing higher into the trees, circling above us in widening loops.
The air grew colder, and the light dimmed again.
Somewhere far away, thunder rolled, even though the sky had been clear when we walked into these woods.
My stomach dropped.
“They’re regrouping,” I said.
Rendel stood slowly and helped me up.
“No,” he said. “They’re being called.”
By whom?
I didn’t ask aloud.
I already knew. The same way you know a storm has turned toward you before the rain starts falling.
The shadows above us stopped circling.
Every one of them pointed toward a single place deeper in the forest.
And then they bowed.
It wasn’t like birds landing or smoke sinking.
They bowed.
A path opened through the trees ahead of us—not because branches moved, but because the darkness itself drew back.
Something stood at the far end where the last of the daylight failed.
I couldn’t see a face.
Only a shape.
Tall.
Still.
Watching.
Twobble’s fingers grabbed my wrist and squeezed so hard it hurt.
“Maeve,” he whispered, and for once, there wasn’t a trace of humor in his voice. “Tell me that’s just another weird tree.”
“It’s not a tree,” Rendel said.
The figure lifted one hand, and every shadow in the woods screamed.
And the one on my shoulder answered.