"Probably not advisable in this visibility.The safe window is eleven to two, remember—you'd want to use that time wisely.Tomorrow might be clearer."
Tomorrow.One more day.
She was about to respond when a massiveCRACKechoed from outside.They both froze.
Another impact.The whole treehouse shuddered slightly.
Wren ran to the window and threw open the shutters.
A monster—huge, scaled, easily the size of a car—was slamming against the shield wall.Not randomly.Deliberately.It was hitting the same spot over and over.
The spot with the red crack.
Each impact sent spiderweb fractures spreading from the crack.Red lines that glowed angry and bright, then faded slightly—but not completely.Not anymore.
The monster reared back and hit again.More cracks.
"That's not good," Walter said quietly from beside her.
"How long—" Her voice came out hoarse."How long before it breaks through?"
"At this rate?A day.Maybe less if others join in."Walter's tail was completely still—she'd never seen him so motionless."They can sense weakness.Once one figures it out, others will come."
The monster hit again.A chunk of the shield flickered, the yellow dimming to almost nothing in that spot.
"I have to go today," Wren said."I have to go get the bulbs today, weather or not."
"In the fog?Madam, you won't be able to see three feet in front of you.The monsters will have every advantage."
"And if I wait until tomorrow, the shield might be gone."
They watched the monster hit again.Again.It was methodical.Testing.Learning.
Finally, it gave up—or got bored—and lumbered back toward the forest.But the damage remained.The red cracks covered a section the size of a door now, pulsing weakly.
Wren's hands were shaking.She pressed them flat against the windowsill."Maybe it'll clear up by eleven," she said, not believing it.
Walter said nothing.
She forced herself to move.Back to the oven, replacing the spent sunflower with a fresh one.The routine helped.Do the next thing.Then the next.
Breakfast.She needed breakfast.
She grabbed bread from the breadfruit tree, butter from the buttercups.Ate mechanically, tasting little.
Through the clarified shield, she could see the town in the distance.Even through the fog, there was movement.Lights.People going about their lives behind strong walls and proper defenses.
So far away.
She wondered if they knew someone was living out here.If they cared.
Walter cleared his throat."I should mention—there's been talk."
She looked at him."Talk?"
"The messenger squirrels.They've been spreading word.Someone's at the cursed farm.Someone who's actually...surviving."His whiskers twitched."Viktor's very interested, apparently.And there's speculation about what kind of magic you're using."
"I'm not using magic.The plants are magic."
