Then faster.
They drifted back toward her in twisting spirals, drawn toward the mist around her robes.
The hedge surged again, cutting off their escape routes.
Several shadows burst apart as the thorns caught them.
The rest rushed back toward their master.
The Priestess lifted her hands sharply, and the fog around her thickened.
The remaining shadows poured into it like smoke drawn into a storm cloud.
The clearing brightened as the darkness pulled away.
I stood there breathing hard, the hedge still humming through my bones.
Across the clearing, Keegan and Gideon stood a few feet apart.
The fight around them was finally slowing.
Witches lowered their hands.
Orcs stepped back.
The last fragments of shadow drifted into the mist behind the Priestess.
She looked around the clearing slowly.
At the hedge I’d forced up around us.
At Keegan.
At Gideon.
Then her eyes settled on me.
She didn’t say anything right away. The forest had gone strangely quiet again, like it was waiting to hear what she’d do next. The mark on my shoulder gave a slow, steady pulse.
When she finally smiled, it wasn’t the sharp, satisfied one from before.
This one was quieter. Colder.
“You think this is victory,” she said.
Fog curled thicker around her boots, creeping through the undergrowth.
“But this battle is long, Maeve.” The shadows stirred again, pulling back toward her like smoke drawn into a chimney. “And don’t forget that I have someone you want.”
And then she was gone, swallowed by the trees before anyone could reach her.
The clearing didn’t go quiet all at once.
It unraveled slowly.
The last wisps of shadow slipped through the trees where the Priestess had vanished, and the sounds of the fight faded behind them—first the roar of orcs, then the crack of spells, then the sharp snarls of shifters who realized there was nothing left to chase.
I didn’t move.
