My hand slams into a trunk, pain lancing up my arm. I hiss in a breath as we skid to a halt, my wrist singing in agony.
The trees around us suddenly light up with an orange glow, their shadows thrown out behind them like spidery limbs. I throw up my good arm, momentarily blinded, and turn to Timo. Fire blazes from his hand.
“No, Timo. Stop,” I whisper-shout. The fire disappears immediately, leaving everything even darker than it was before. “We don’t want it to know where we are.”
“Sorry.” Timo’s voice is small and thick with emotion. “You got hurt. I-I thought it would help us see.”
I grit my teeth and grab his hand again, wanting to put as much distance between us and the place where his magic flared. He struggles to keep up with my strides, stumbling a few times.
We run until it hurts to breathe. Our sweaty hands threaten to slide apart, so I keep tightening my grip on Timo. If it hurts, he doesn’t complain.
Panting, I glance up through the trees and check the stars. We’re heading north, roughly, and on course to the enclave – to sanctuary.
My foot hooks on something and I fly forward, pulling Timo down with me. I land heavily, gasping, inhaling some snow. A soft thump tells me Timo has landed nearby.
I push myself up and look around, pain shooting up my leg. “Are you okay?” I call softly, my teeth ringing with the cold. No reply.
Climbing to my feet, I hop a few times, snow crunching, then gingerly put weight on my leg, immediately lifting it back up with a wince.
“Timo?” I whisper into the darkness.
“Oh dear.”
The gentle voice sends a chill through my bones, settling deep below my snow-soaked clothes. An orb sparks to life above me, casting the forest in a cold, blue glow. It illuminates the snatcher holding Timo by his shirt collar, the boy kicking and flailing.
I struggle to move without putting weight on my ankle and lean against a nearby tree.
The pressure in my head builds uncomfortably as something tugs at my magic. But it's not the snatcher or Timo. It’s something else. Something…not human.
“What do we have here?” the snatcher drawls, blood oozing from a gash on its cheek. “An empath, is it? And all alone in the woods?”
I lift my chin and reply in a steady voice, “I wouldn’t be so sure we’re alone.”
Its features flash with confusion.
A lynx leaps from the shadows with a yowl, raking his claws down the snatcher’s face and knocking it to the ground, releasing its grip on Timo.
Bram!
The cool light of the orb falters as Timo scrambles free. He races to my side, grabs my hand, and pulls me along. I let him lead, gritting my teeth against the pain of my ankle as I quickly limp along, Bram’s feral yowls fading behind us.
We burst from the tree line. A relieved sob heaves my chest at the sight of the enclave silhouetted against the aurora-lit sky. The sisters must have been watching for us because the double doors crank open as we half-run, half-hobble toward them. Timo stops and turns, whistling.
Another yowl and a rustle, then the lynx breaks through the pines, clearing the snow-covered scrub in one long leap. Behind him, the blue light of the orb grows brighter once again.
“In, Timo!” I cry, holding the edge of the open door. Just as boy and cat streak past me in a blur, I catch sight of the snatcher emerging. I help heave the door closed.
I want to sink straight to the floor, but adrenaline keeps me upright. A huge bolt grates across the door. Sister Lucine exhales loudly and eyes the three of us – limping, singed, bleeding, soaked, and panting. Behind her, a line of torches cast dancing shadows along stone walls, illuminating the edges of the vast lobby.
“It came sooner than we thought,” I gasp, wrapping my arms around my sodden sleeves to stop them from shaking. “I didn’t mean to lead it to your door.”
“It’s okay.” Lucine glances down at Timo, who’s stroking Bram’s wet fur. “But you’re not safe here.”
“The snatcher can’t come in, right?”
Lucine’s eyes flick to the door. “Do you think the Accords will stop this one now it knows you’re here?” I don’t reply as she slides a torch from the wall. “There’s another way out. Follow me. Quickly.”
We hurry to keep pace with Lucine as she leads us toward a large, vaulted doorway, the wood laced with intricate metalwork crafted into constellations.
My eyes widen. “The Sanctum?”
The Sanctum is forbidden to outsiders…
Lucine simply nods and pushes the doors open. No elaborate password, no key. The metal-studded doors glide inward on silent hinges.
We step into a plain-looking, roofless courtyard, the aurora overhead bathing the ground in the same eerie glow as the forest. There’s no whispering sisters, secret chambers, or gilded hall of treasures. If I weren’t running for my life, I might be a little disappointed. It looks like a training ground, or something equally as boring.
We follow Lucine over flagstones that give way to bare earth, scuffed and compacted.
“What’s this place for?” I ask, but Lucine ushers us toward a huge tree that seems to glow softly. It stands, imperious, in the center of the courtyard, as high as the walls themselves, its trunk almost as thick as one of the turrets. It’s not a tree I recognize, certainly not a Henling pine. Its bare branches drape down, brushing the earth. Between them, it glows, as if hundreds of fireflies live in its thin branches.
Lucine stops at the base of the trunk, shining the torch where one of the thick, above-ground roots doesn’t quite meet the earth.
“Do we have to go in there?” Timo eyes the gap. “What’s this big tree?” His nervousness sets my teeth on edge.
“What is it? A tunnel?” I peer into it. A tunnel would be the perfect way to escape from underneath the snatcher’s nose. I turn to Lucine. “Where does it come out?”
A bang echoes through the night.
Lucine glances back the way we came, the flaming torch in her hand highlighting fiery strands of her auburn hair.
“It’s a Fallen Star tree,” she answers Timo’s question, then turns to me. “And yes, it’s a tunnel…of sorts.”
Voices reach us from the hall. Several of the other sisters must be at the front door. Is Andromeda among them? Metal grates on wood as the bolt is removed.
“There’s no time. Go.” Lucine puts an impatient hand on Timo’s back. He drops down to his hands and knees, casting a worried glance at me.
I nod, giving him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I’m right behind you.”
His bottom lip trembles, but he turns and crawls into the tunnel, disappearing from view. I drop down to my hands and knees with a wince, eye level with Bram and the long, draping sleeves of Lucine’s violet robes.
I look up at her. “Aren’t you coming?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t. And neither can the big cat.”
“Why?” I press, suspicion pooling in the pit of my stomach. “Where does this go?”
“Only mages can pass through, Cassia.”
It doesn’t escape me that Lucine only answers one of my questions. I glare at her.
She touches a hand to my head. “You must trust me.”
I wish my magic worked on demand so I could tell if she’s lying.