another warning. Both times, something had lurked in the shadows, watching. And now, it was here. Its small body remained unnervingly still, but its gaze flicked toward the trees ahead.
“Don’t move.” Sorcha’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Rhosyn, sensing the shift, lifted a hand. Flowers bloomed beneath them, their petals unfurling in a soft, fluorescent glow. The light pulsed gently, casting waves of shifting color across the forest floor.
“It’s trying to tell us something,” Cat murmured, stepping closer. “Or lure us in.”
Eirin gripped his glaive tighter, shifting into a defensive stance. Drystan, Mason, and Rhosyn instinctively moved into formation, backs to each other, scanning the shadows.
The rabbit twitched. A violent shudder ran through its small frame. Then another. Sorcha barely had time to react before the sound of cracking bones split the air. Itsbody contorted, stretching and twisting as flesh rippled like unraveling thread, limbs elongating, fur darkening. A low sound rumbled from deep within as the creature rose, towering over them. What had been a rabbit now stood a black horse, its mane flowing like liquid shadow. Its ghostly eyes burned as it reared back, hooves pawing the air. The pooka hesitated only for a moment before it bolted into the trees.
The sound of fabric whipping in the wind had reached their ears and from the shadows, a figure stepped forward. She was draped in flowing white gown, its edges torn, hood pulled low, she moved with unnatural grace.
At her side, a black boar trotted, its beady eyes gleaming in the dying glow of Rhosyn’s flowers. The air turned colder and the flowers began curling inward as their light withered and died. When the woman spoke her voice was soft, desperate, laced with sorrow.
“I’ve lost my way,” she murmured. “I cannot find my way home. Will you help me?”
Sorcha’s runes blazed, their light flaring bright as the sun. She then focused and conjured a flame of light to chase away night. The shadows recoiled, and as the light touched the woman’s face, it was missing. Rhosyn whispered to the others “I think that’s Lady Gwyn. She only walks on Samhain, looking for lost wanderers in the woods.”
Above, the apple trees swayed. Then, abruptly, they stilled. Everything was still and the air became stale.
Then, Cat growled. “Run.”
The woman’s scream tore through the clearing, raw and unearthly. The boar charged, hooves tearing up the frozen earth. Drystan loosed an arrow, aiming for her head. It struck passing straight through. The hood tore away, revealing the truth. She had no head. Her scream came again, closer this time, shaking the ground beneath them. Sorcha staggered back as the boar lunged. Its tusks gleamed red in the fading light. Kyron drew his sword but Sorcharaised her arms first, her runes blazing like wildfire. The air cracked, her power colliding with the creature mid charge.
The world exploded with light.
When Sorcha’s vision cleared, the boar’s body was falling apart, its skin unraveling into black smoke.
Laughter erupted in the air. As the headless woman slammed into an invisible force. She stood laughing for a moment before she called to the boar that reappeared beside her. She turned toward Sorcha. “Daughter of Lugh,” she hissed, her voice seething with anger as she melted into the night.
Before them, stretching across the forest, was a wall of rippling energy. It shimmered like water beneath the moonlight, only visible when the light struck it at the right angle. Shades of purple and blue undulated across its surface, their glow like deep ocean currents. At its edges, a smoldering ember colored light curled and flared, firelight swallowed by the tide. Sorcha shuddered. She had seen that color before. Drystan stepped forward before anyone could stop him, reaching out. His fingers disappeared the momentthey met the surface. He yanked his hand back, staring at it, flexing his fingers. Nothing felt different. Nothing looked wrong. But the sensation of the Veil pulling at him beckoning sent a shiver down his spine.
Then Eirin’s voice shattered the moment. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Eirin
snapped, his voice low but furious. “What if something on the other side had ripped your hand off?”
Drystan swallowed hard, taking an uneasy step back.
Cat, watching from the side, looked nothing but amused. He prowled along the Veil, scanning it before finally stopping at a spot where the air thickened where the boundary was weakest. “The Veil is always here,” Cat muttered, looking around. “Samhain just allows us to see it.” Just then a mound rose before them, covered in tangled wildflowers. Without warning, he changed.
The small, sleek creature they had come to know stretched into the massive, powerful creature in the field. His shadow elongated, form shifting into the ferocious,otherworldly feline they recently met. He roared and the ground trembled beneath them, the air humming with energy and then the land split open. An entrance yawned before them, dark and waiting.
Cat turned back to the group, his voice smooth but final. “This is our way in. We part ways here.”
The words settled like stone in Sorcha’s chest.
She had known this was coming. She had prepared for it. But still—it was different, standing at the threshold.
Eirin said nothing. Just stood there, staring at her.
Their goodbye had already been said at the stables. And yet, it still didn’t feel like enough.
She swallowed, turning to the others. “Thank you.
For everything. Please protect the realm. And be safe.”
A silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, they nodded, the sadness in their faces unmistakable. But beneath it pride. One by one, they stepped back and Sorcha turned toward the Veil. They did not look back. Not Kyron. Not Sorcha. Not Cat. They stepped forward, into the dark,the entrance yawning like the mouth of an ancient tree and waiting.
