But in the blink of an eye, they pulled themselves back together and spun toward us again.
“Oh, absolutely not,” I muttered.
My hand dropped to my waistband without thinking. The wand slid into my palm like it had been waiting there the whole time, warm and steady against my skin.
The chaos around us sharpened. Shadows wheeled overhead. Twobble was shouting something unhelpful. Skonk swung the broom like he was fighting off angry bats.
I didn’t think.
I just pointed.
A bright crack of magic shot from the wand and tore through one of the diving shadows like lightning ripping through fog. The thing burst apart in a spray of black fragments that scattered into the branches.
“Ha!” Skonk shouted. “Wand wins!”
“Don’t celebrate yet,” I said, tightening my grip as more shadows peeled off the trees and rushed us. I zapped the wand toward the creatures, and the power merely bounced off their edges, barely fraying the darkness.
And I knew I’d better reach for the magic inside me because my Hedge magic came easiest, especially when things started spilling out of their proper places, and right now the entire forest felt like it was tipping sideways.
I thrust my hand toward the nearest shadow and pictured a thorn hedge surging up where there should have been nothing but air.
The magic answered immediately, and a wall of bramble burst into existence between us and the diving shape. The shadow slammed into it and shrieked, smoke curling from the places where the thorns pierced it.
The smell made my stomach turn—wet ash, spoiled herbs, and something metallic underneath.
Green light sparked at the tips of my fingers before I even realized I was reaching for the magic. Hedge magic always answered like that…quiet, stubborn, and a little wild. The air around my hands stirred, and vines began to wind outward, not from the ground but from the spell itself, twisting toward the shadow as if they’d been waiting for it.
The shadow lunged, but the vines caught it first. They snapped tight around it, brambles digging in as the darkness twisted and fought against them. It pulled and strained, its shape slipping and stretching like smoke trying to force its way through a crack. Then something shifted in the air around us. I felt it more than saw it. The veil between worlds thinned for a heartbeat, just enough to open a way through.
My hand moved on instinct, and I pushed.
The magic carried the bound shadow sideways through that narrow tear between realms, the vines dragging it with themuntil the darkness slipped out of this world entirely. The seam closed as quickly as it opened, leaving nothing behind but a fading shimmer of green light at my fingertips and the sudden, quiet stillness of the woods.
Rendel stared at the bramble wall a moment longer than necessary.
“You can do that,” he said.
“Now isn’t the moment to sound impressed.”
“It wasn’t out of admiration.”
That might have annoyed me if a cluster of shadows hadn’t dropped from the branches like a flock of black birds shot straight out of the sky.
“Down!” I shouted.
Skonk didn’t duck.
He swung the broom in a wide arc and actually connected with one. The shadow spun sideways into a tree trunk and splattered across the bark like spilled ink before slowly dragging itself back together. The broomstick had more magic than just for riding.
Twobble was already moving. He darted in front of me, muttering so quickly the words blurred together, and slapped both palms against the ground.
A circle of light raced outward through the roots and stones around us, forming a thin glowing boundary.
One shadow struck it and jerked back with a furious hiss.
Twobble grinned wildly. “Ha!”
Two more hit the barrier from opposite sides.
