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The other fae snickered, and my face grew hot.

“Search her bag,” said the first male, the black-haired one.

“Don’t—” I argued.

The biggest one rammed me into the brick wall. My head slammed backward, and I saw stars.

Magic, I thought desperately. Magic is the only way I can fight them.

Panicked breaths rushed through me. I couldn’t get enough air. I couldn’t think.

Focus. The voice in my head sounded like Gran’s. No matter what kind of danger you’re in, you must find a way to focus. It will save your life.

One breath. Then another. My eyes closed. The males muttered to one another as they sifted through my bag. Energy crackled within me, heating my blood.

I moved forward, my hands shooting outward. An invisible force barreled into the biggest one. He collided with the brick wall opposite me, his head cracking loudly. His form crumpled in a big heap on the ground.

The others paused their pilfering to glance at me in shock. One lunged for me, but I seared his hand, just as I’d done to the first. He howled in agony, jerking his arm back. Another fae shoved me hard, my back connecting with the wall again. His elbow dug into my gut, and I hunched over with a low groan, pain shooting through me. I sent a bolt of magic straight into his chest. He went rigid, his body convulsing as he fell to the ground, writhing like a fish out of water.

The remaining four figures crowded me, pinning me to the wall. I struggled, trying to conjure a spell that would knock them back.

One of them hit me in the jaw, and a high-pitched sound rang in my ears. Another struck me in the head. Darkness clouded my vision.

Shit. I couldn’t lose consciousness. They would kill me if I blacked out.

I jerked my knee upward, hoping to connect with something. One of them groaned, his grip loosening from my tunic. Gathering all the strength I could muster, I thrust my magic outward, blasting two more backward. They bellowed, writhing on the ground. The last of them reached for my cloak, but I jerked away. He managed to tear off some of the fabric. Still dizzy, I staggered forward, desperate to get away. A hand reached for me, and I stomped on his fingers with my boot. His howls of pain echoed behind me as I grabbed my satchel and darted out of the alley.

My steps were clumsy, my head throbbing as I weaved my way toward the familiar path in the forest.

“Get her!” one of them roared.

Panic tore through my chest. Get away. Get away. Don’t let them catch you.

I pressed a hand to my chest, summoning a tendril of power. I focused hard on the colors of the foliage around me—the lush green, the muted brown. Warmth tickled along my skin as the camouflage spell took effect.

“What the hell!” The voice came from behind me. “She vanished!”

“No, there!” said another. “I can see her shadow.”

“Seb, use your magic. Can you see her?”

A moment of silence. Then⁠—

“I see her! She’s over there!”

Damn. All fae had one specific gift of magic. And it seemed one of my attackers could see through glamours and spells.

I quickened my pace, and a stitch formed in my side. I was not built for running. Soon, they would catch me, especially with someone who was impervious to my camouflage spell. I glanced to my right, toward the dense trees that surrounded me. Gran’s voice rang in my mind.

Do not leave the path.

But I had no choice. These brutes would catch me if I didn’t.

Gritting my teeth, I left the path, disappearing in the brush. I didn’t need to outrun them—I just needed to find a hiding spot. I turned left, then right, the prickly branches and thorns tearing at my skin and cloak. Behind me, the voices of the fae grew more distant. But I knew they would pursue me.

Sharp wheezes burned in my chest as I struggled to get enough air. My eyes scanned the forest, looking for a place to hide.

There! I noticed a particularly large and prickly bush. It would be painful to get through, but they wouldn’t dare search within. Bracing myself, I dove in, the brambles slicing across flesh. The sound of tearing fabric told me my cloak had ripped again. I huddled underneath, staying low to the ground and allowing the sharp thorns and leaves to shield me from view.