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When Elias had gone to Shadowbank for help to get Arabella’s memories back, he’d given the head enchantress the amplifier—and whatever power remained within it to strengthen the village’s failing ward. It had been that very magical artifact that had caused her so much trouble. It was why she’d bargained away her memories to the Witch of the Woods—in hopes of saving both the goblins who hid within Elias’ castle and the humans who took refuge in the village at the edge of the world.

Arabella hoped the head enchantress, the woman who’d been like a mother to her, would have some guidance.

As Arabella rose to her feet, she noted a flash of movement in the line of trees in the distance. It was beyond the gardens—to the right, near the lake.

Squinting, she tried to make out whatever had caught her attention. But the line of trees was distant. It could be a trick of the shadows. Stranger things had already happened that day.

But there was another flicker of movement as though the deeper shadows stirred.

On instinct, her feet were moving.

Something was beyond the ward. Could it be another alabaster, a type of demon that fed on sexual shame? She didn’t have Elias to save her this time if it sucked her into its clutches.

Or had the worst happened—had Magnus found them? Had he tortured Elias until he revealed the castle’s location? No. Elias wouldn’t have broken so quickly.

As she neared the line of trees, her shadows bloomed beneath her until they were thrice her size. Then they surfaced from the earth like colorless vines sprouting from liquid black. Veined with darkness, they curled around her feet, moving in twisting waves as she walked.

The shadows had changed since she used the amplifier before she’d been captured by Magnus. It was like the artifact had unlocked something in her—unleashing the shadows from whatever had tethered them. Then they had changed again when her memories had returned. They were stronger now and far more wild, as though they had a will of their own. They responded to her baser emotions—fear and anger—and were eager to serve.

Instead of reaching for the shadows, she sought the earth’s magic. Outside the forest, the earth held a golden hue of light as though infused with sunshine. It was the power of growing things and new life, which was so unlike the shadows. However, in the demons’ territory, the earth held a darker hue. The naturalmagic within the land had been corrupted. Pulling several strands of the sticky earthen magic into her, she wove them together, prepared to lash out at whatever might move in the dark beyond the ward.

Something moved in the trees to her left, and she spun toward it.

Jessamine and Cora were at her heels and mirrored her movements, blades drawn. Where had Brynne gone?

“There’s more than one,” Jessamine said, voice low.

Arabella’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the trees.

Suddenly, a sound like an explosion beneath water sounded from her right.

Turning, she saw the very thing she’d feared.

An ogre the size of a two-story building had emerged from the forest and slammed a fist into the ward.

For a moment, she was back in Shadowbank on the day the soulless had broken through Shadowbank’s ward. The same day she’d gone with Nemera to rescue Rowan on the road beside the forest. A horde of the soulless had appeared and chased them back to Shadowbank. The demons had climbed over each other like insects to get into the village, uncaring of their burning bones as they touched the magical barrier. It had bent inward before tearing—and the demons poured in.

She was jerked back to the present as the castle’s ward stretched. It thinned out where the ogre’s fist had connected with the magic. The color leached from that section. For a moment, the ward appeared as little more than a thin film of water. Waves rippled in every direction, making the dome appear to shiver.

“Fuck,” Jessamine hissed at her side.

They found us.

That one thought kept circling through Arabella’s mind even as fear laced her veins. Magnus had taken Elias, and now he’dcome to claim the syphen Breckett had stolen—and likely to kill her for all the trouble she’d caused him.

“They can’t see us,” Cora whispered, her two short swords drawn. Uncertainty laced every syllable. “Breckett said this ward keeps them from seeing the castle.”

“Yeah, and it’s also supposed to turn you around the moment you attempt to approach it,” Brynne hissed, coming to stand beside them. “Either the magic doesn’t work on ogres, or they figured out how to get past it.” She pressed something into Arabella’s hands.

Glancing down, Arabella’s eyes widened. “Where did you get my swords?”

She hadn’t had her blades since she’d left Shadowbank and gave herself to Elias as his next offering.

“Brought them with,” Brynne said. “When Elias came to get us from Shadowbank.” She removed a few of the smaller blades stashed in her jacket before sheathing them in some of Arabella’s empty ones.

“Thank you,” Arabella managed, sudden emotion tightening her throat.

They weren’t as heavily armed as they’d normally be. But at least they now all had their swords and some daggers and throwing knives.