Ardetia lifted both hands and sent another burst of magic sweeping across the clearing.
“Maeve,” she called, not taking her eyes off the swarm, “can you hold the hedge?”
“I’m trying!”
The vines surged again, lashing outward. For a moment, the barrier held.
Then something changed, and one of the shadows dove straight for me.
I swung the wand instinctively, sending a coil of thorny vines snapping toward it.
But instead of shattering, the shadow twisted, and it slipped through the thorns like smoke.
Before I could react, it struck my shoulder.
Right where the mark burned.
Pain flashed white-hot under my skin.
I gasped.
The shadow didn’t pull away.
It clung there, pressing into my skin as the mark flared again, brighter this time, and the creature seemed to latch onto it like a hook.
My magic faltered, and the hedge trembled.
“Maeve?” Nova said sharply.
“I—”
Another pulse of pain cut through me, and the vines around us shuddered, their movement suddenly uneven. The thick wall of bramble began to unravel in places, branches drooping as if something had cut the roots beneath them.
“That’s not good,” Twobble squeaked.
The wound on my shoulder twisted.
For a moment, I thought it was trying to burrow deeper into my shoulder.
But it changed shape and spread outward, black strands slipping from the mark like ink spilling through water. Those strands tangled themselves through the nearest vines, weaving through the Hedge magic itself.
I’d never seen anything like it.
The shadow wasn’t fighting the hedge.
It was working its way through it.
At first, the vines lashed the way I’d meant them to—wild and defensive, thorns snapping at anything that moved, but then the motion changed. The bramble slowed, and the branches pulled tighter together, twisting into thick knots like someone else had taken hold of the spell and started bending it.
“Maeve!” Ardetia called.
“I’m trying to—”
The words died in my throat.
“Shadow Hedge,” the Priestess’s words curled through the air like a dagger. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
The mark flared hot, and the magic I’d just thrown into the hedge suddenly felt farther away than it should have, like trying to grab hold of a rope that was sliding through my hands.
