Maren's lungs burned as she plowed through snow that grabbed at her legs. Her breath came in white clouds, rapid and harsh. The herbs in her bag bounced against her hip, precious and necessary and useless if she couldn't survive long enough to use them.
She'd made it maybe a quarter mile when her foot caught on something buried beneath the snow. She went down hard, face-first into powder that filled her nose and mouth.
By the time she'd struggled upright, the voices had gotten closer.
They were tracking her. And she'd just given them a clear trail to follow.
Maren forced herself forward, legs shaking from exertion and fear. The forest pressed close, bare branches catching at her cloak. Snow fell heavier now, maybe enough to cover her tracks.
The shouts grew louder behind her. Maren ran hard and let her shadows carry her.
24
TRISTAN
Tristan was halfway to Moonmirror Lake when the shouting started.
He stopped mid-stride, head turning toward town. Multiple voices, overlapping, carrying the particular tone that meant fear had turned into action. His comm unit crackled before he could move.
"Ash, we've got a situation." Mills sounded breathless. "The witch attacked someone at the northern grove. Witness saw her summon her shadow and everything. Thomas Wells is organizing a search party."
"Maren wouldn't?—"
"I'm just telling you what people saw. Wells has maybe twenty people with him, all armed, all pissed. They're tracking her into the woods."
Tristan was already moving, reversing course at a dead run. "Where exactly?"
"Northern grove, heading northwest. They lost the trail about ten minutes ago but they're spreading out." Mills paused. "Emmett's trying to call them back but nobody's listening. This is going sideways fast."
"Keep Emmett updated. I'm going after her."
He cut the connection and pushed harder through the snow. The path he'd broken earlier helped, but not enough. Powder still grabbed at his legs, slowing progress that needed to be fast.
The northern grove appeared through the trees. He found the cleared area immediately, snow pushed aside in perfect circles that could only be shadow work. Frost-wort scattered across exposed ground. Claw marks in tree bark where something had struck hard.
And boot prints. Dozens of them, all converging from different directions.
Thomas Wells emerged from the trees, flanked by six others. All carrying clubs, knives, and one shotgun that Tristan recognized from the man's shop. Their faces were flushed with cold and conviction.
"Officer Ash." Wells's voice carried challenge. "Come to help us find your witch?"
"She's not my witch. And you need to stand down before someone gets hurt."
"Someone already got hurt. Maya Brennan saw the whole thing. Said the witch summoned a shadow demon, attacked it, made it look like she was defending herself." Wells stepped closer. "But Maya's smart enough to recognize theater when she sees it."
"That's not what happened."
"You weren't there. Maya was. She saw shadow magic, saw that creature, saw the witch standing in the middle of it all." Wells gestured to the others. "We've got families to protect. Council gave you three days and you've got nothing. Time we took matters into our own hands."
"The Council gave me an extension. I have until tomorrow."
"Tomorrow someone might be dead." Wells moved past him, following tracks that led deeper into the forest. "You want to help, help. You want to stop us, try."
The others followed, weapons ready, faces set. Tristan counted twenty people, all hunting someone who couldn't defend herself without proving them right.
He pulled out his comm. "Mills, tell Emmett the mob's armed and organized. I'm going after Maren before they find her."
"Copy. Be careful."
