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Esme moves too…but not to flee.

Dreamlike, she practically floats around the table, her attention fixed on the creature’s obscured shadow.

“Esme.” My voice comes out rough. “Don’t.”

She doesn’t seem to hear me, just keeps walking, one foot in front of the other, drawn forward by invisible threads.

She positions herself between the thing and Mira, who’s carved an I into her face and now starts on the R. Her flesh, torn by her own nails, is a horrific sight.

The creature swivels with hideous fluidity from Mira to Esme.

Its hypnotic pull creates a vacuum, sucking Esme in the same way it suctioned my sword.

It wants her.

More than it wanted Mira. More than it wants anything else in this clearing. Its hunger is palpable, blooming through the air like blood in the water, almost strong enough to taste. I’m almost hungry myself.

The air thrums, but this time, it’s because of Esme.

No. Not Esme. Her Warden tattoo?

The creature drifts in her direction. Gnarled limbs extend with terrible purpose toward her face.

Aldric’s words haunt me. Old magic.

I surge forward, focused on one single objective. Stop this thing from touching Esme and stealing her mind. I will not let it have her. She is mine.

My sword passes through the reaching limb. The blade swipes through icy resistance before jerking free and slamming into the earth.

There’s no blood or wound. No hint of any damage done.

The thing keeps going for Esme like I’m not even here.

Rage pours through me like lava.

How am I supposed to prevent this thing from claiming what it wants if I can’t even hurt it?

If I can’t destroy the creature, at least I can destroy everything around it.

I slam my palm against the pillar supporting the roof over the firepit while simultaneously holding the earth in place.

That earth answers my demands, but not with the careful precision I usually maintain. This is violence stripped of control, power without restraint. Every bit of the magic I’ve suppressed for weeks suddenly tearing free of its leash.

The house I built—walls, roof, everything—shatters, shards flying at the monster that continues to ignore everything except for Esme, remaining completely unfazed.

Rain pelts my face in a breathtaking deluge.

We’re exposed to the night now. All of us standing in the open with that thing and the sputtering fire. Nowhere left to hide.

Good.

Hiding won’t help anyway, but an open space might. If I can’t affect the earth close to it, I’ll work from a distance instead.

“Run!” The command tears out of my throat. “Now!”

Rock and soil churn, flowing and breaking. I reshape the landscape with pure fury, moving earth like it weighs nothing, smashing everything in reach because this creature in front of me won’t crack and I need something to break, need to feel bones shatter even if they’re not the right ones. The power floods me, setting every nerve on fire, and I grin manically, my eyes alight as my hair whips around me in the wind and rain.

The refugees don’t need to be told twice.