"Longer than you know," Ferria muttered.
Halian finished with Briar's arm and moved to tend his own wound, but she caught the warning glance he shot his sister.
"The question remains," Sian said, perched on what might have been a table, legs swinging. "What do we do with her? The mark ties her to him. He'll always know where she is."
"We could hide her," Halian suggested. "The deep sanctuaries have old magic protecting them."
"They won't hold." Ferria shook her head. "Not against his full attention. And now that we've interfered, that's exactly what we'll have."
They discussed her like she wasn't there. Like she was a problem to be solved rather than a person. Briar's temper flared.
"I'll leave," she said loudly. "Problem solved. Point me toward the human world and—"
"You can't." Arion's quiet certainty cut through her words. "The mark won't let you. Even if you could find a path, the pain would drive you back. Or mad. Whichever came first. The Betweenlands don't give up their prey easily, neither does Eliam."
"Then what? I can't go home, can't run, can't—" She stopped, remembering Thaine's words about punishment, wings becoming leaves and consciousness trapped in bark. "He'll make an example of me."
"Yes," Ferria said simply. "He will. Unless..."
"Ferria." Arion's warning was sharper now.
"Unless what?" Briar demanded.
A sound cut through the chamber. Low and resonant, the earth itself groaning. The lights flickered. Dust fell from the root ceiling.
"He's found us," Halian breathed.
Another sound, closer now. Wood splitting. The walls shuddered.
"Impossible," Sian said, but her form flickered, edges going translucent with fear. "The wards—"
"Were made to hide from him," Arion said grimly, bow materializing in his hand. "Not to withstand his direct attention."
The mark on Briar's wrist flared to life. Not the muted burn of before but pure agony, thorns of fire racing up her arm. She gasped, doubling over.
Through the pain, she heard it. Felt it. A presence vast and dark and furious pressing against the sanctuary walls. And beneath the fury, something else that made her stomach flip despite the pain.
Anticipation.
He'd found her and he was coming to collect.
The walls stopped shuddering.
Silence pressed against her ears until the only sound was her heartbeat thudding too fast and too loud. The mark throbbed in rhythm with it, a warm pulse that made her skin feel too tight. She pressed her palm against it through her sleeve, but the heat seemed to seep through her fingers, spreading up her arm.
"He's here," Ferria whispered.
No one asked who. They all knew.
The sanctuary's warm light flickered once and then steadied, but the air had changed. Thicker now, carrying the taste of copper and rain-soaked earth. The forest finding a way to breathe through solid walls.
Briar struggled to breathe as she watched the others arrange themselves defensively. Sian's form solidified fully, no longer allowing herself the comfort of fluidity. Halian's knuckles went white around his staff. Arion stepped forward, placing himself between her and the door that no longer felt like protection.
"The wards will hold," he said, uncertainty threading through his voice.
Something scraped against the outer wall. Soft and insistent. Fingernails or thorns dragging across wood. Testing. The sound traveled slowly around the perimeter of their sanctuary, and Briar found herself turning to follow its path.
It stopped directly behind her.
