2. Sapphire

Sapphire

I miss.

I don’t know how, but I miss.

Instead of piercing the tree monster’s chest, my dagger slashes through its side. Black sap sprays out of its wound, like poison.

It howls, its cry echoing through the silent forest.

Loudly enough that anything within a mile radius would likely be able to hear.

So much for a silent kill.

I need to finish this—quickly.

I yank the blade free, bringing more of its black, sap-like blood out with it.

It smells like syrup. A scent I know well after serving drinks at the Maple Pig.

My heart hollows with longing as I think about my time as a bartender in Maine. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Now—in this lifetime—a tree monster flails wildly in front of me, its claws slashing through the air.

I barely twist away in time to avoid being impaled.

I can’t be impaled in projected form, I tell myself, remembering when Riven tried and failed to run his sword through me when I broke into his quarters.

It’s a major benefit for fighting in projected form instead of in my regular body.

My regular body—which is unconscious and vulnerable next to Zoey’s. And which, unlike my projected form, isn’t immune to injury.

I need to finish off this tree monster quickly. Because the longer I stay in my projected form, the longer I put my real self and Zoey in danger.

So, I grab the trunk to steady myself, using the wind to stay balanced.

The creature pulls itself higher into the tree, dragging itself out of reach of my dagger. Its glowing, hollow eyes narrow as it studies me, and its mouth gapes open, unhinging farther than before.

Its sharp teeth are dripping with sap.

I glance down at the ground.

As I already knew, Zoey’s unconscious body is lying next to my real one. If our clothes and skin weren’t stained with blood, I’d think we were peacefully sleeping. Two sisters, side by side, resting in a magical forest. Well, not actually sisters—her thick black hair is so different from my white-blonde hair with blue streaks at the ends that we’re clearly not related—but we’re sisters at heart.

We have been ever since I saved her from drowning in that icy lake when we were kids.

Sap drips onto me, yanking me out of my thoughts. The creature’s a few branches overhead, and I grip my dagger tighter, repositioning myself.

I can’t project from a projection.

Which means it’s time to climb.

Using the branches like a distorted ladder, I hurry up the tree—faster than I thought possible—and level myself with the creature again. The wound on its chest is only halfway healed, which is much slower progress than any supernatural I’ve seen so far.

Maybe its healing magic moves slower because its blood is made of sap, and sap moves slower than blood?

I don’t have time to contemplate the technicalities. Instead, I slash again, catching it across what passes for its throat.

More blood. More shrieks.

Its skeletal form trembles, and it backs away from me, its hollow eyes dimming with fear.

Of me.

Thrill rushes through me.

I have it cornered.

Now, it’s time to finish it off.

As I size up where to aim my dagger for the final blow, movement flashes below.

My heart stops at the sight of a shadowy form creeping toward Zoey and me—well, the real me. Long, sleek, and impossibly silent, it’s like a living shadow, its edges rippling as it moves. Its steps are measured, with a predator’s precision, ready to pounce.

It’s ten feet from our bodies, and it’s closing in fast.

No time to think.

I snap back into my body, the world spinning as my consciousness slams home.

I open my eyes and force myself to sit up.

The shadow creature is a few feet away. It’s like black smoke given physical shape, with red eyes and dozens of sharp teeth.

Not good.

I jump to my feet, grabbing my dagger and positioning myself between the shadow creature and Zoey.

The edges of its body ripple and pulse like a heartbeat.

Then, it lunges.

I dive to the side, slashing with my blade.

But the shadow monster is faster. It moves around my strike, those red eyes fixed on me with terrifying intelligence. And since I’m no longer in my projected form, I can get injured now.

The shadow monster comes at me again, faster this time.

I dodge out of the way, but it gets close enough that its cold aura brushes over my skin as it passes me and heads to Zoey.

No.

I reach for my magic, gather the humidity in the air, and blast the monster with water as hard as I can.

The shadow monster is unphased.

More, I think, and I throw my air magic behind the water, turning the droplets into pellets that make the shadow monster flinch and twitch with each shot fired. More, and more, and more, until it’s seizing up like a person being attacked by an assault rifle.

One final blast, and it’s down.

With no time to waste, I launch myself at it with so much power that it’s like I’m flying, and drive my dagger through its heart.

The monster’s otherworldly screech makes my ears ring.

I’m staring straight into its eyes as its form wavers, the shadows disappearing like mist in the wind, leaving nothing behind but a dark blackish stain in the snow.

Something thuds behind me, and I spin around, unable to take even a second to relish in my victory.

The branch monster is climbing down the tree’s trunk, ungracefully thunking into branches, thanks to the multiple wounds I inflicted on it.

It’s slower than before, but its eyes are fixed on me with murderous intent.

I could keep fighting it. Finish it off while it’s wounded.

But Zoey’s just as vulnerable as ever.

What if there’s another shadow monster close by? Or another branch monster?

I can’t risk it. Not again.

So, I scoop up Zoey and run, calling on the wind to make us lighter, faster.

Snow sprays up behind us as I sprint through the trees, searching desperately for the landmarks Riven described.

What’s next?

A fallen tree shaped like an arch.

There.

It’s curved over the path like a gateway, with the Snow Blossom Glade spread out beyond it. I’ve never heard of a snow blossom before, but it’s safe to assume they’re the thick beds of flowers shaped like snowflakes.

I race through, my feet barely touching the ground as I push myself to go faster, faster, faster.

A furious screech echoes through the trees.

It’s followed by another, and another.

Closer than I’d like.

But I can’t look behind. I have to keep moving.

The entrance to the cave is hidden by a wall of frost ivy, Riven’s final instruction echoes through my mind.

I scan the area frantically, Zoey’s body growing heavier, thanks to how much magic I’ve used.

Finally, I spot it.

The ivy’s frosty leaves sparkle like a beacon in the moonlight. It’s similar to what I imagined, but at the same time, a hundred times more magical.

I run the final stretch in a blink, and then I’m clawing my way through the ivy strands. The leaves chime softly, sending a magical buzz over my skin where they touch it, eventually revealing the cave beyond.

The moment I’m through, the screeches silence.

I stumble the last few steps, my legs trembling as I lay Zoey down on the cold, hard floor. Her skin is burning with fever, but her cheeks are flushed. Her heart’s beating. Her chest is rising and falling with slow, shallow breaths.

She’s alive.

We’re both alive.

For now.

Now that things have calmed, I examine her bandage. Her blood’s already dampening the fresh cloth, all I can see in my mind is that image of us unconscious at the bottom of the tree.

I’m so vulnerable when I project—when I leave my body behind like a hollow shell, waiting to be destroyed. My ability is valuable, but it’s dangerous, too.

I need to figure out how to use it better. Because next time, I might not be fast enough to snap back in time.

And next time, we might not be so lucky.