She let out a howl, flew at the creature, slashing at it with her blade. She had no compunctions now. This wasn’t her father—it was a killer, a parasite. It had murdered her father, and now it was using his body, and she would not let that happen.

Her blade slashed its leathery skin. The bloodless cut only made the thing shriek in rage. Talons sliced through her cloak. Daigo leaped on its back, fangs sinking into its neck. It tried to claw at the wildcat. When it couldn’t reach, it swung at Moria instead.

This time, the talons caught her side, under her cloak. Pain ripped through her. Daigo snarled, shaking the thing, his teeth biting in until she heard a snap. Its neck broke, head falling to one side, but still it kept scratching at her.

She stabbed it in the heart. It grabbed at her and caught her by the cloak. She tried to wrest free, but its claws were embedded. She yanked the clasp and broke away, leaving the thing fighting with her cloak. Then she spun, dagger raised, as Daigo leaped to her side. They dove at the thing together and . . .

A gust of wind knocked them back. As Moria fell, she saw the creature, in shadow form now—that twisting, writhing smoke rising from her father’s body. It rose, then shot past her, and it was gone.

Moria walked to her father’s body. No, not her father. Not truly. It still looked like that twisted thing. A mockery of her father, lying on the floor, clutching her cloak, blood everywhere.

She ought to lift him back onto the padded mat. She ought to kiss his cheek and weep. But this wasn’t her father. She could no longer see it as her father. Ashyn would. Ashyn—

Ashyn.

Moria spun and ran out the door.

Moria stood in the junction between two lanes. She looked toward the barracks, then the forest. The choice ought to be simple. Everyone was gone. Dead. Massacred by the shadow stalkers. She needed to get to Ashyn right away.

And yet, when she listened, she heard voices in the forest. Not the screeches of the shadow stalkers, but actual voices. Was it possible some guards had lived? The shadow stalkers could have slipped past them in shadow form.

She looked at Daigo, but the wildcat was doing the same thing, his attention swinging from those voices to the barracks and back.

Ashyn. It had to be Ashyn. Her sister was all she had left now that—

Moria’s knees buckled as pain washed over her. Daigo slid beneath her outstretched hands.

“I have you, too. I know.” But it wasn’t the same, because he was almost an extension of herself.

As she turned toward the barracks, she caught a flash of red-gold hair, streaming behind a figure darting between buildings.

“Ashyn?”