Ash’s familiar voice barked the command from the tree line. He barely gave Amaris time to react before he loosed an arrow. Amaris flattened herself against the ground in a second, but she wasn’t the only one who seized the warning. In the moment it took her to drop from the line of fire, Zaccai had grabbed for the general’s attention. They were off with supernatural speed as they darted into the air. They dove back down into the trees with the inhuman speed of birds of prey. Ash sprinted out from the tree line to her, grabbing her by the arm and hoisting her to her feet. The pond was still once more. Her eyes remained fixed over Ash’s shoulders on the space above the forest to where the fae had disappeared.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded.

She shook him off with growing irritation as she continued to stare at the sky where the fae had gone.

“I’m fine.”

His face was still painted with contempt as he asked, “Did they take you?”

“No, I thought I sensed something in the woods. I followed that sense here.”

Ash gaped. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

His voice was breathless and angry. His flame-red hair, normally bound in a knot, was wild and loose from sleep. The sound of Malik’s jogging crashed through the underbrush. He broke into the clearing to meet them. Amaris made no attempt to conceal her irritation. “I am just as competent a warrior as either of you. Reevers are meant to be perfectly capable alone,” she defended. She looked to Ash, then to Malik from where he’d run into the clearing at the pond’s edge. “I don’t need your accompaniment when inspecting threats. Besides, if I had investigated the sound and found a mouse, you would have accused me of being a paranoid woman.”

He scowled at her, lowering the bow he continued to angrily grip at the ready. Ash said, “I hope you don’t seriously believe that of me.”

The golden-haired Malik looked between his friends, his eyes bewildered.

“Is someone going to tell me what happened?” he asked.

“Amaris went off to confront a demon, apparently,” Ash said, ripe with ire.

“It wasn’t a demon!” she said, her tone climbing toward a yell. She held the dagger she’d been offered with one hand, the other open with emphasis. The moonlight glinted against the knife’s steel, illuminating the pale intensity of her expression.

“Is now the best time to call the humanoid monsters by their right and proper name?” Ash asked, his temper flaring. “Are we fighting over semantics?”