“He’s buying us time!” Vashael shouted, golden pollen already creating illusion-clouds around us. “Don’t waste it!”
The Hunter’s attention snapped back to me, and his spear—which hadn’t existed until it did—materialized in his hand. “The shadow-walker cannot save you. Only delay—”
Nimor screamed—not in pain but in defiance—and exploded into pure shadow, engulfing half the hounds in darkness so complete it seemed toeat light itself.
“GO!” Kaelren commanded, his hand like iron on my arm, hauling me into motion. “NOW!”
We fled.
Behind us, I could hear the battle—Nimor’s howls of rage, the hounds’ frustrated snarls, the Hunter’s cold commands. But Nimor had done it. He’d given us an opening, a chance.
The forest became a blur of motion. Kaelren led us along paths that appeared just long enough to use them, through hollows that existed in spaces between spaces. My marks burned with heat and desperation, and I felt the Root responding—opening ways that shouldn’t exist, bending trees aside, creating passages through barriers that should have been impassable.
“Keep moving!” Vashael shouted from behind me. “Some of them broke off—they’re gaining!”
I could feel them—three, maybe four hounds that had abandoned the fight with Nimor to pursue us. Their presence was like ice down my spine, their hunger pressing against my consciousness.
We burst through a wall of thorns that parted at my approach—the Root recognizing me, responding to my need—and stumbled into a glade I didn’t remember creating.
The moment we crossed the boundary, everything changed.
The sounds of pursuit cut off like someone had thrown a switch. The oppressive weight of the Hunt’s presence vanished. Ancient wards hummed in the trees around us, so old they were more feeling than sight, thrumming with power that made my marks resonate in sympathy.
“Safe,” Vashael gasped, doubling over to catch her breath. “For now.”
But we weren’t all there.
For a long moment, there was just our ragged breathing and the gentle hum of the wards. Then—
A shadow crawled across the ground at the glade’s edge, reforming into something almost human. Nimor collapsed just inside the boundary, more gap than person, his form flickering between states like a candle in wind.
“Did we… make it?” he whispered, eyes dim and fading.
“You idiot,” Kaelren’s voice broke—actually broke. He was across the glade in three strides, dropping to his knees beside his friend, hands hovering like he was afraid to touch and make it worse. “You absolute idiot.”
Vashael was right behind him, her usual sultry composure completely shattered. She fell to her knees beside Nimor, and I realized with a shock that there were tears cutting tracks through the gold dust on her cheeks. “Nim, you fool.” Her voice was raw, stripped of all pretense. “We had a plan. You weren’t supposed to—”
“Had to,” Nimor managed, his form flickering like a dying light. “She’s… important. The pattern… needs breaking.” He looked at me, and I saw knowledge in those fading golden eyes. “You feel it, don’t you? That sense that you’ve… done this before. All of you.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“The wheel,” he whispered. “Turning and turning… but this time… different.”
Peeble pressed closer to my neck, trembling. “He shouldn’t know about that,” they whispered. “How does he know?”
Before anyone could answer, Nimor’s form scattered like smoke in a strong wind, then pulled back together weaker than before, barely holding shape.
“He’s dispersing,” Eltrien said urgently, kneeling beside him. His marks glowed as he reached out with healing magic. “His essence is too damaged to hold form.”
“Fix it,” Kaelren commanded, and it wasn’t a request.
“I can’t.” Eltrien’s voice cracked with frustration. “He exists between states now. Neither living nor dead, neither here nor there.” His healing threads passed through Nimor like he wasn’t there at all. “He saved us, but the cost…”
“The cost is acceptable,” Nimor whispered, barely audible. “Always knew… wasn’t meant to finish the story. Just… help it along.”
“Stop talking like you’re dying,” I said, my voice fierce as I dropped to my knees beside them. “We’ll figure this out. There has to be a way to—”
“Not dying,” he said, and somehow he managed a smile. It was heartbreaking. “Just… becoming something else. Something useful.” His form flickered again, more transparent than before. “The Hunt will follow. Can’t enter here, but… they’ll wait. Forever if necessary.”
