When she stumbled, Gavril grabbed her cloak, but she’d already recovered. She’d simply tripped in surprise as the forest opened into a small clearing.

They didn’t have a lantern. The only illumination was that sickly gray moonlight. But when Moria stepped into that clearing, she could see, and what she saw was blood.

It was everywhere. Small pools on the moss underfoot. Droplets coating the ferns and saplings. More dripping from leaves.

Moria stood in the middle and turned in a slow circle.

“It can’t be,” she whispered.

“It is.”

She shook her head. “That’s not possible. There’s so . . .” Her voice hitched. “So much.”

Daigo butted against Moria’s legs, growling under his breath.

“Your cat is right,” Gavril said. “You should get back to Ashyn. Levi and Oswald are—”

He stopped. She turned to see him staring down at a patch of brush. In it, she could see a boot, so polished the leather shone in the faint light.

“Do you like them?” Levi asked, pointing at his boots.

“They’re very . . . shiny.”

“The best your father could procure. My family sent me money, and they said I ought to spend it on my uniform. Father says it makes an impression, and I need to do that if I’m going to advance—”

She grabbed him by the tunic and pulled him into a kiss, mostly just to make him stop talking, but ever after that, he was convinced it was the boots, and wore them even in the summer’s heat, always polished to a gleam.

Now she looked down at that boot, at his leg above it, at the blood—

Gavril pulled her back, his grip so tight it hurt. She tried to pull away.

“I need to make sure he’s—”

“I will.” He yanked her behind him as he checked. “He’s dead.”

Beside her, Daigo let out a strangled yowl. Moria dropped her hand to his head to comfort him.

“We need to go,” Gavril said.

She nodded and returned to her sister.

Whatever was in the forest let the four of them leave. Even the path was open and clear, almost . . . helpful. That made Moria uneasy. What could she say, though? That some Keeper instinct told her she shouldn’t leave? Daigo understood. He kept up a low, growling hum as they walked.

We should find out what’s in here. That’s my job. To fight, not to flee.

But flee she did. She had to. Get Ashyn to safety. Tell the village what had happened. Then go back in. Find survivors—or the bodies. That was the sensible order of things.

“The sun,” Ashyn whispered. “At last.”

Moria looked up to see shafts of sunlight piercing the canopy.

“I see the second watchtower,” Ashyn said.

As Moria passed, Ronan caught the back of her cloak. She spun, but Gavril was faster, knocking the boy’s hand off her.