“I am a hunter, love. Careful comes with the territory,” he said, chucking her under the chin with his knuckles, determined not to show any of his nerves.

She took a deep breath and said, “Okay. But we will go with fog, then. I am not risking a firestorm breaking free from my hold on my first try.”

They split the fog powder they had left on hand, giving each of them as much immunity from the storm’s mind-altering magic as possible. Then they prepared for battle.

This time was different from all the ones that came before. As Aurora closed her eyes and began to wander away from him into whatever world it was that she felt and saw that he could not, she had none of the calm, peaceful demeanor she normally had. Her shoulders were stiff, and her fists clenched. A sweat broke out on her forehead within minutes, and instead of the grief or pity or compassion he was used to seeing as she drew a soul toward herself, her expression tightened into a grimace, her nose wrinkling up in what he could only guess was disgust.

He watched her struggle, and he nearly called the whole thing off. He had come to love the way she looked when she was using magic—ethereal and effervescent and everything that was good in this world. But this … this was not like that. As she gritted her teeth, a tingle of magic began to spread through the atmosphere. It felt … tainted. The air turned thick and sticky, like he was breathing in tar, and even though it was morning, a dark gloom seemed to shadow the sun long before any storm ever took shape.

Then, he saw it. Like creeping fingers bursting from a shallow grave, long tendrils of a dense, milky-white fog had begun to extend from the woods around them. He looked to Aurora, whose face had gone red with the effort of control she was exerting, and knew it was his turn now.

Kiran marched forward, prepared to meet the sinister storm halfway.

Aurora was shaking. Her attention was split between controlling the storm itself, lest it decide to turn in another direction and seek out others for destruction, and maintaining the integrity of herself. Those boundaries Sly had told her about, they had become more and more clear over recent days as she worked through her own emotions alongside the souls she helped. She had presented each of her calls to the souls as an opportunity for cleansing, the chance to break free from the emotions that bound them here. But the experiences had been cleansing for her too. Each time, she poured out the emotions she had been holding onto as well, letting go of old hurts, long-held guilt, and unspoken fears. And each time she had repeated the process, the edges of her own soul had become more defined.