“None of her injuries are from creatures who have consumed godsblood,” Soraya said, hoping the woman would understand her meaning.

“You can heal her,” Sunny said, hope dawning across her face. Despite all they’d witnessed on this night, the fires of hope still burned inside this woman. It didn’t have to be over until they said it was.

They ran on, until Lostwood’s familiar arms surrounded them both.

“Seela?” Sunny’s voice sounded louder than it truly was, permeating the silence of night that had settled over Lostwood. Had they been in a cave, the question would have echoed, repeating itself a dozen or so times. As it was, it rang out clear as a bell and then was gone, as though lost in the undergrowth.

No answer came.

Following Seela’s path, however, was a simple enough task, even for novice trackers such as they. An obvious trail had been crushed by the massive rodent’s passing, branches snapped free from their mountings, small bushes decimated, all of it coated with a generous serving of blood spatter and saliva. And they had Morg to help, too, for Soraya had released him the second it was safe to do so within the shadows of the forest. Now he bounded and scampered back and forth along the trail that had been clumsily blazed, sniffing at gobs of blood and inspecting tufts of fur that had been left behind.

Soraya tried not to think about how much blood the woman had lost. Whatever form she was in, it was a lot. Too much blood.

And then there she was, in a small clearing, lying on her stomach, head downcast as she licked and gnawed furiously at her wounds. The golden leaves on her brow gleamed in the moonslight filtering through the trees. Some of the arrows she’d been unable to reach were still whole, while the shafts and fletches of others had been snapped in half, leaving jagged wooden shards poking from her skin. Blood flowed freely from a dozen wounds. Morg sniffed the air but had the good sense not to draw any nearer to the creature.

“Oh, Seela,” Sunny said, starting in the nightdemon’s direction.

“Don’t,” Soraya warned, which made the woman stop. “Injured and scared, she’ll be even more dangerous.”

“Oh,” Sunny said, as though she’d forgotten that this wasn’t the version of the woman she loved that she knew and understood, almost like she’d seen through the monster to her true core.

“I’ll try to throw the vials of godsblood into her mouth. They’ll begin to heal her wounds immediately.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“You’re—”

Soraya’s response was cut off when a vicious sound cut through the night, the creature’s body going rigid, snout raised in the air. And then she flopped fully to the ground, unmoving.