They aren’t the only creatures either. Crows gather in the trees, their harsh cries punctuating the sounds of battle coming from all directions now. The glade lights up with magic—flickers of blue fire and ribbons of green-brown energy. It’s so hard to keep track of everybody, but I see Katya set one monster on fire only to get slammed into the snow by another.

Aysha hangs back, staring at the chaos around her. “My magic doesn’t work like this.” Her voice is thick with tears.

“But you can help people who are injured. Help Katya, help MacCrone!” I say, biting back the Don’t stand there being so damn useless! because that’s exactly what I’m doing.

Useless, worthless, pathetic—what good is being able to talk to trees in a battle like this?

Aysha nods and runs over to help Katya first.

Stop her. You have to stop her! Natalie’s voice shrills from above where, once more, balls of green flame cut zigzags across the clearing.

Katya sits up in the snowdrift looking furious. Aysha moves on to MacCrone.

“Do something.” I point Katya toward Morgan and Aoife.

Katya smiles as she grabs at the nearest maahinen, lightning dancing between her fingers. The monster screams and retreats to lick its charred wounds, but another tears into the clearing to take its place.

Aysha shouts something incoherent and I turn in time to see a maahinen hurtling toward her. A wolf snarls and leaps in front of her, shredding the monster with enormous fangs.

Sorin finishes off the maahinen and bounds after another, joining Toivo, who’s currently embroiled with two of the monsters. The horns twist from their heads at awful angles, their paws slashing at my brother’s chest. Then Sorin has one of the creatures by the throat. Bone and cartilage crunch in wolf jaws and my stomach twists as I fight back a wave of nausea.

Morgan turns a maahinen to ice and shatters it with a kick, only to be set upon by yet another.

“Tiwaz,” I shout to him. The fire rune of victory and strength—the rune for warriors.

Morgan adds my suggestion to the next sigil he draws, waiting for the maahinen to get perilously close before powering up the sigil. It vaporizes the monster. Another maahinen thinks better of attacking and retreats through the trees.

I turn my attention back to Emmi.

Kalma has managed to avoid the bear’s claws, dancing nimbly out of the way, springing to land the occasional swat of a paw that couldn’t be more than a mosquito bite to the king of the forest.

The bear focuses on Emmi and lands several blows to her body, revealing even more ink. Emmi’s blood dapples the snow and tears burn in my eyes. This can’t be happening. It’s the worst kind of nightmare.