Chapter Thirty-Three #2
Skonk swung the broom again, connecting with a shadow that had slipped through the barrier. It hit the bristles and splattered against a tree trunk before slowly pulling itself back together.
“That is deeply troubling,” he announced.
Another wave dove.
I raised my wand and reached for the Hedge magic that had answered me so easily before.
The ground shivered.
Vines shot upward in a wild tangle, thorned branches twisting through the air as they snapped toward the nearest shadows. One creature hit the thorns and dissolved immediately, smoke curling up from the places where the magic touched it.
Another got caught halfway through the hedge and began tearing at the vines, writhing like something alive.
I pushed harder.
The vines thickened, climbing over one another until a wall of living bramble stood between us and the forest.
“Good,” Stella said, raising the skillet. “I like walls.”
But the shadows weren’t slowing.
They poured down from the branches in twisting streams, slipping through the air faster now, as if something beyond the trees was urging them forward.
Ardetia lifted both hands and sent another burst of magic sweeping across the clearing.
“Maeve,” she called, not taking her eyes off the swarm, “can you hold the hedge?”
“I’m trying!”
The vines surged again, lashing outward. For a moment, the barrier held.
Then something changed, and one of the shadows dove straight for me.
I swung the wand instinctively, sending a coil of thorny vines snapping toward it.
But instead of shattering, the shadow twisted, and it slipped through the thorns like smoke.
Before I could react, it struck my shoulder.
Right where the mark burned.
Pain flashed white-hot under my skin.
I gasped.
The shadow didn’t pull away.
It clung there, pressing into my skin as the mark flared again, brighter this time, and the creature seemed to latch onto it like a hook.
My magic faltered, and the hedge trembled.
“Maeve?” Nova said sharply.
“I—”
Another pulse of pain cut through me, and the vines around us shuddered, their movement suddenly uneven. The thick wall of bramble began to unravel in places, branches drooping as if something had cut the roots beneath them.
“That’s not good,” Twobble squeaked.
The wound on my shoulder twisted.
For a moment, I thought it was trying to burrow deeper into my shoulder.
But it changed shape and spread outward, black strands slipping from the mark like ink spilling through water. Those strands tangled themselves through the nearest vines, weaving through the Hedge magic itself.
I’d never seen anything like it.
The shadow wasn’t fighting the hedge.
It was working its way through it.
At first, the vines lashed the way I’d meant them to—wild and defensive, thorns snapping at anything that moved, but then the motion changed. The bramble slowed, and the branches pulled tighter together, twisting into thick knots like someone else had taken hold of the spell and started bending it.
“Maeve!” Ardetia called.
“I’m trying to—”
The words died in my throat.
“Shadow Hedge,” the Priestess’s words curled through the air like a dagger. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
The mark flared hot, and the magic I’d just thrown into the hedge suddenly felt farther away than it should have, like trying to grab hold of a rope that was sliding through my hands.
It was as if someone had reached into the center of it and pulled a thread loose.
The hedge sagged, and several shadows slipped through the opening immediately.
Bella caught one in midair and slammed it into the ground, while Nova sent another burst of green flame across the clearing.
But I could feel it now.
The magic wasn’t responding the way it should.
The shadow on my shoulder tightened.
Rendel noticed first.
His eyes were fixed on the mark.
“They’ve connected to it,” he said grimly.
“Connected how?” Stella demanded.
“They’re using the mark to reach her magic.”
Twobble froze. “That feels extremely unfair.”
Another shadow struck the weakening hedge.
The vines split apart under the impact.
Skonk swung the broom again. “I’m not equipped for magical sabotage!”
I tried to push the hedge back into shape, forcing the magic outward the way I had before.
The vines answered, but sluggishly.
The shadow on my shoulder moved again, and this time the strands of darkness crept farther along the hedge, weaving through the thorns like a parasite threading itself through living roots.
The vines began to twist in on themselves, and my stomach dropped.
It wasn’t just weakening the magic.
It was changing it.
“Maeve,” Nova said, her voice tight, “something’s wrong with the hedge.”
“I know!”
Another pulse of pain shot through the mark, and my wand slipped in my grip for a second.
The shadows surged again, slipping through the collapsing barrier as Bella lunged forward to cut them off.
Ardetia’s magic flashed beside her, sharp and bright in the dimming light. Vivienne, Opal, and Mara followed a beat later, sending quick spells snapping through the clearing like sparks from a fire.
But the shadows had stopped going after them.
They were moving around me.
Slowly at first. And tighter.
The mark singed hotter as the shadow tangled in my Hedge magic moved again.
At first, I thought the vines were winning.
They had it wrapped tight, thorns digging in, branches twisting around it the way I’d intended.
But then the movement changed. The thing didn’t try to tear free.
It slipped between the vines instead, winding itself through the bramble until the whole spell started to shift.
The wall of thorns began to lean.
Not outward.
Toward me.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“What is it doing?” Skonk yelled.
Rendel didn’t answer right away.
He was looking past the hedge, deeper into the trees.
Something in his face changed. It wasn’t fear exactly.
It was recognition.
“Oh no,” he said under his breath.
Above us, the shadows that had been circling slowed, their restless motion easing into something deliberate. They didn’t disappear.
They watched.
And the air in the clearing went tight and heavy, like the moment before a storm finally breaks.
The mist beyond the trees thickened again, curling around the trunks like pale fingers.
Something moved inside it.
At first, it was only a darker shape within the fog.
Tall.
Still.
Watching from the edge of the forest.
The shadow on my shoulder tightened its grip on the mark.
And the vines of my Hedge magic twisted harder, as if responding to whatever presence had stepped into the trees.
Nova noticed it next.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Maeve…”
I followed her gaze.
Through the thinning mist, someone stood just beyond the reach of the clearing.
Not one of the shadows.
Something else.
Someone.
And the moment my eyes met that shape in the fog—
The shadow tangled in my magic pulled tighter as if it had been waiting for them to arrive.