Maren centered herself, pulling magic from the well inside her chest. Her shadows responded eagerly, spreading across the snow in dark patterns. She pushed power through them, commanding warmth, commanding the snow to lift and drift aside like breath blown across powder.
Her shadows swept across the grove in expanding circles, clearing snow in waves that revealed frozen earth beneath. Within minutes she'd exposed frost-wort growing in stubborn patches near the tree roots with shadowbane clinging to bark.
She knelt and began gathering, working quickly. Her fingers numbed despite her gloves, but she'd dealt with worse. The herbs were strong this year, potent with the kind of concentrated magic that only came from surviving harsh winters.
A branch snapped behind her.
Maren spun, shadows rising defensively. Nothing visible. Just trees and snow and the oppressive quiet that came with winter storms.
She returned to gathering, faster now. Her shadows remained agitated, reaching toward the forest's edge like they'd caught a scent she couldn't identify.
"Working hard, sister?"
The voice came from everywhere, layered and wrong. Maren shot to her feet as the doppelgänger materialized from the shadows between trees.
It looked more solid than before, more real. Silver eyes glowed with malicious intelligence, and its smile—her smile—held nothing human behind it.
"Thought you could hide?" The construct stepped forward, movements too fluid, too perfect. "Thought I wouldn't find you gathering your little protections?"
"I'm not hiding." Maren's hands clenched. "What do you want?"
"What you have. Your face, your life, your place in this world." The doppelgänger tilted its head, the gesture disturbingly familiar. "You make it so easy, always alone, always vulnerable. The town already hates you. Soon they'll beg me to stay instead."
Shadows lashed out without warning.
Maren barely dodged, throwing herself sideways as darkness carved gouges through the tree where she'd been standing. Her own shadows responded sluggishly, fighting against the pull toward the construct.
"You can't win." The doppelgänger advanced, its form flickering at the edges but holding strong. "By tomorrow, I'll be solid enough that no one will see the difference because of the fear the town, and you, live in."
Another attack. Maren rolled, came up running. She couldn't fight this thing with shadow magic, it would just absorb the power and use it against her.
But she had to try something.
She grabbed a handful of the frost-wort she'd gathered and threw it. The herbs hit the doppelgänger's chest and flaredbright, burning with cold fire. The construct shrieked, stumbling back as its form destabilized.
"Clever," it hissed. "But not enough."
Movement at the grove's edge. A figure bundled in a winter coat, probably out checking trap lines. They'd frozen at the sound of the shriek, staring at the scene with growing horror.
At Maren standing with shadows swirling around her and the perfect copy of Maren formed from darkness looking as if a witch was summoning her own shadow to do violence.
"Help!" the figure shouted, already backing away. "Someone help! The witch is attacking!"
"No—" Maren started.
The doppelgänger laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Perfect. They'll never believe you now."
It dissolved into smoke, dispersing between the trees and leaving Maren alone with the fleeing witness and a grove full of evidence that looked damning.
Shouts rose from the direction of town. More people coming, drawn by the screams.
Maren grabbed what herbs she could carry and ran.
Not toward town and not toward the lake where Tristan was breaking trail. Leading a mob to him would only force him to choose between his duty and her safety. But into the forest. Deep enough that tracks would be covered by falling snow.
Her shadows pressed close, urging speed. Behind her, voices grew louder, organizing, becoming something coordinated and dangerous.
A hunt.
