A wave of light rippled outward, low and wide, like sunlight sliding across water. It rolled over the ink-stain, over our boots, over the patch where the shadow creature had landed. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
But after a few beats of time, the light caught.
It outlined the shadow residue not as my magic, not as Keegan’s, not as vampire or shifter, something else entirely. The stain lifted into the air in shimmering strands, and for one bright moment, it revealed the shape of the creature’s claws, the direction of its movement, the smear of intent left behind.
A few of the orcs in front slowed, their brows furrowing, their nostrils flaring as if they could smell the difference.
But the shadows weren’t done.
Two beasts dove together, one aimed at our group, one aimed at the orc line, their screeches rising into the cold air as the Hollows answered with another groan. More ice surged upward at the valley’s edge, forcing the two sides closer again, making it harder to tell friend from enemy.
The battlefield became a tangle of shifting fronts.
Vampires moved like dark lightning, intercepting creatures mid-dive, forcing them away without tearing them apart. Shifters held their ground, shoulders locked, refusing to chargeeven as orcs advanced. Twobble shouted something about teamwork and not dying today, then yelped when Skonk hauled him off the bramblemule’s back before a shadow beast could swoop down and snatch him like a snack.
“I had a plan!” Twobble protested as Skonk dragged him behind a ridge of ice.
“I plan to keep you alive,” Skonk snapped.
A shadow beast clipped the edge of my shield again, and the force drove me back half a step. My arms burned from holding the barrier, and the Hollows’ cold pressed in hard enough that my fingertips began to numb.
The orcs were close now.
I could see the whites of their eyes. The frost was collecting in their lashes. The way their attention kept darting between the shadow beasts and my glowing hands.
One of their leaders, with broad, tusk-like teeth visible when he snarled, pointed directly at me and barked something that sounded like a demand.
He didn’t care about the explanation Nova had revealed.
He cared about timing.
He cared that we had arrived at the exact moment danger rained from the sky, and ice rose from the earth.
He knew that the world felt like it was closing in, and we stood in the middle of it with shadows, an illusion.
My birthmark burned again, a hot pulse of attention that felt like laughter without sound.
She wanted this.
She wanted the orcs’ fear aimed at me.
And as the Hollows shook and the ice walls climbed higher, hemming all of us in tighter, the orcs’ gaze fixed harder on our group, on our numbers, on our magic, on the vampires and shifters at my sides. I realized we were seconds away from the moment when confusion turned into a single, irreversible decision.
Either they believed we were here to help or they decided we were the threat.
The first shadow struck an orc square in the shoulder, and the world tipped.
It didn’t claw or tear the way the others had. It simplyfell—a slick, heavy drop of darkness that splashed across armor and skin like oil. The orc roared, stumbling back, swiping at himself as if something were crawling beneath his flesh. The shadow slid away from him and vanished into the ground.
Then another dropped.
And another.
They fell straight down from the air, no wings, no shrieks this time. Just sudden impacts of dark magic slamming into bodies, weapons, and the frozen ground. The orcs shouted in fury and confusion, their formation breaking as they turned inward, trying to understand where the attack was coming from.
From us.
I saw it in their eyes before they raised their weapons.
