The glow flickered.
Twobble’s grin disappeared. “Less ha.”
The woods were full of them now.
They swarmed between the trees and circled overhead in shifting, ragged shapes—never quite solid, never entirely smoke. The afternoon light had already begun to fade, and with every new shadow joining the frenzy, the sky seemed to drop another inch.
Gold turned gray.
Then darker gray.
It felt wrong watching daylight lose ground that quickly.
Rendel backed toward us, silver light still burning along his hand.
“This is my fault,” he said grimly.
“You think?” Twobble squeaked.
Rendel ignored him. “I thought I could move without drawing attention.”
“And instead?” I demanded, throwing another surge of Hedge magic into the boundary as the ring flickered again.
“And instead,” he said quietly, “I led them straight to you.”
“Who are they?” Skonk shouted.
Rendel looked up as a knot of shadows twisted tighter overhead.
“They guard the shadow stone.”
The words had barely left him when one of the shadows broke formation and dove straight for his face.
He raised his arm too late, and I didn’t think.
I shoved him sideways, and the shadow grazed my shoulder instead.
It felt like being dragged through freezing cobwebs and fire at once. Heat flashed through me fiercely, followed by freezing.
“Maeve!” Twobble screamed.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
I was absolutely not fine.
My shoulder burned. My birthmark pulsed like it was trying to break through my skin. The world had gone thin around the edges, every sound a little too sharp.
Rendel dropped to one knee beside me.
“It touched you.”
“Yes,” I said through my teeth. “I noticed.”
His hand hovered near my arm but didn’t quite touch it.
“They mark what they touch.”
Twobble made a strangled noise. “What does that mean?”
