The problem with forests of the enchanted variety, as Cinder was rapidly discovering, is that they tend to be aggressively atmospheric, even in broad daylight.

  Take, for example, the copse of trees just ahead of their wagon. Perfectly ordinary at first glance, but then a breeze stirs the leaves, and suddenly every dappled leaf is shimmering like stained glass in sunlight, each twig tracing fractal shadows across the ground.

  It's beautiful, sure, but also distractingly trippy. The last time Cinder saw light do that, it was thanks to some seriously suspect mushrooms and an overzealous bonfire.

  "Are we absolutely sure this is necessary?" she asked, eyes narrowed at the shifting shadows between trees. "Because I'd like to register my formal protest against entering any location described as 'breathing' or 'rearranging itself.'"

  "Marta says it'll save us two days compared to the northern route," Ember replied from atop their wagon. Her wavy orange hair caught the dappled light filtering through leaves, creating a flickering halo effect. "And you heard Dez—the outer paths are safe enough if we don't wander off."

  "Besides, isn't this the whole point of being in a fantasy world?" Pyra added, practically vibrating with excitement. "Magical forests, ancient secrets, hero stuff!"

  "Let's not forget the part where the ancient forest drained our fire the moment we crossed the tree line." Cinder arched an eyebrow. "That seems like a pretty big flag on the whole 'hero stuff' play."

  "It's worth it for the ambiance," Kindle murmured, eyes closed as she soaked up the surroundings. "So much texture... the whisper of leaves, the muted colors, even the smell of earth and decay... I feel like I could reach out and..." Her hand danced through the air as if sculpting invisible shapes. "Just pluck ideas from the shadows."

  Cinder rolled her eyes but said nothing. When Kindle entered her "creative mode," it was best to just let her ride the wave.

  "Perhaps this forest exists to remind us of the temporary nature of our flame," Ash mused, twirling a finger through her own silvery strands. "We blaze brightly, yes, but all fire must eventually flicker out."

  "Thank you for that ray of sunshine, Ash," Ember said with a small sigh.

  "Just speaking truth." Ash gave a half-hearted shrug. "But you're probably right; we'll be fine as long as we stick to the path."

  Kindle nodded, her eyes still shut. "A magical forest where paths vanish and landmarks move. This is the kind of adventure people write ballads about."

  "Ballads about idiots who got lost and died horribly," Cinder muttered.

  "Or ballads about brave heroines who discovered ancient secrets and magical treasures," Pyra countered, leaning dangerously far over the wagon's edge to admire a cluster of luminescent mushrooms growing along the path. "Besides, we can run faster than anything in here. What's the worst that could happen?"

  "Famous last words," Ash murmured, "like whispers before an avalanche."

  The wagon hit a root, jostling them all and sending Pyra tumbling backward into a stack of barrels. She landed with a dramatic "oof" and immediately burst into giggles.

  "This forest is amazing," she declared, recovering with a gymnast's grace. "Everything glows or shimmers or whispers. Look at those flowers!"

  She pointed to clusters of bell-shaped blooms that hung from lower branches, their petals translucent and shifting between colors as light played across them.

  "Lunardrops," explained an unexpected voice.

  Malik Renard appeared alongside their wagon, his horse picking its way carefully along the path. The self-proclaimed 'sonic archivist' had an uncanny ability to materialize whenever conversation turned interesting—or whenever Kindle happened to be smiling particularly brightly.

  "They absorb moonlight and release it during the day," he continued, his charm turned up to its usual eleven. "Alchemists pay handsomely for them, but they're devilishly difficult to harvest. Touch them with bare hands and they—" he mimed an explosion, complete with sound effects.

  "Explode?" Kindle asked, eyes widening.

  "Dissolve into ordinary petals," Malik corrected with a wink. "The magic requires careful handling. Like most beautiful things." This last part he directed at Kindle with a flourish that would have seemed rehearsed from anyone less naturally theatrical.

  "Knowledge of botanical transience," Ash observed with an approving nod. "You're more than mere musical entertainment, then."

  Malik bowed from his saddle. "I'm a repository of useless but fascinating information, my shadowy friend. Three years exploring the uncharted corners of Eldoria teaches one many strange facts."

  "Like how to avoid whatever made that?" Cinder pointed to a suspicious set of scratch marks carved into a nearby tree trunk. The gouges were fresh, deep enough to expose pale heartwood beneath the shimmering bark.

  Malik's expression shifted, his easy smile dimming slightly. "Ah. Yes. Those would be Mistfang markings. Territory boundaries."

  Ember straightened, her protective instincts flaring. "Mistfangs? Those are the serpentine predators Dez mentioned, right?"

  "The very same," Malik confirmed, his voice dropping to a more serious register. "Translucent hunters with crystalline fangs. They're drawn to magical energy and..."

  He trailed off, brow furrowing as he studied the five women more carefully.

  "And what?" prompted Pyra, bouncing on her toes with barely contained excitement.

  "And they can temporarily neutralize magical abilities with their venom," he finished, eyes lingering on their flame-colored hair. "Which is why most mages avoid Shimmerwood entirely. The combination of the forest's dampening effect and Mistfang venom can leave even powerful practitioners defenseless."

  The five exchanged glances loaded with unspoken communication.

  "Good thing we're not mages then," Pyra declared with a grin that somehow managed to be both innocent and thoroughly unconvincing.

  Malik raised an eyebrow but didn't press. "Indeed. Still, best stay close to the caravan. Mistfangs rarely attack groups—they prefer isolated travelers who've strayed from the path."

  "No straying," Ember agreed firmly, shooting Pyra a warning look that could have boiled water.

  "Absolutely," Pyra nodded with exaggerated solemnity. "No straying whatsoever. Completely stray-less. The epitome of path-adherence."

  "Why do I not believe you?" Cinder sighed.

  "Because you're the incarnation of suspicion and pragmatism?" Kindle suggested cheerfully.

  "Someone has to be," Cinder replied.

  Malik chuckled, his horse sidling closer to their wagon. "You five are certainly the most entertaining traveling companions I've encountered in years. Most people grow quieter in the Shimmerwood—something about the ancient trees inspires hushed reverence."

  "We're not most people," Pyra declared, standing tall enough that Ember had to grab her belt to prevent another tumble.

  "So I've observed," Malik replied with a curious tilt of his head. "Might I inquire about the nature of your... dampened flames? Most fire mages I've encountered channel their element externally, yet you five seem to embody it somehow."

  A sudden tension rippled through the group. Even Pyra's enthusiasm dimmed momentarily.

  "Family trait," Ember said smoothly. "Rather not discuss the details with someone we just met."

  "Perfectly understandable," Malik conceded with another graceful bow. "Mysteries are the spice of acquaintanceship. Speaking of which—" He reached into his saddlebag and withdrew an oddly shaped instrument, something between a lute and a violin with strings that glinted metallic in the dappled light. "Perhaps some music to accompany our journey through these enchanted woods? I've composed a ballad specifically for the Shimmerwood's unique acoustics."

  Before anyone could respond, he plucked a sequence of notes that hung in the air with unusual resonance. The sound seemed to expand outward, wrapping around them like a tangible presence before fading into the forest's depths.

  The constant pull they'd felt on their flames—that strange draining sensation—hesitated, as if momentarily confused by the musical intrusion.

  "Did you feel that?" Kindle whispered, her golden eyes wide.

  Cinder nodded, her own eyes narrowing in thought. "It's like his music disrupted whatever is siphoning our fire."

  "Interesting," Malik murmured, watching them with keen interest. "That wasn't the intended effect of the composition, but..."

  He trailed off, launching into another tune that skittered and danced among the surrounding trees. This melody felt mischievous, as if it were darting just out of reach each time you tried to focus on it. The draining sensation wavered again, this time shrinking in upon itself as if embarrassed.

  "You're doing that?" Ember asked, torn between surprise and concern. "With the music?"

  "Doing what?" Malik said innocently, though his fingers never paused in their dance across the strings. "I'm simply playing a little traveling music, setting an appropriate mood."

  "Bullshit," Cinder said flatly. "You're manipulating the forest's influence on our flames. How?"

  Malik chuckled, sliding smoothly into a minor key that made the branches above them seem to shiver and sigh.

  "Everything in Eldoria has consciousness of some sort," he explained, strumming softly. "Mountains dream. Rivers remember. Forests? Forests listen."

  "And what does this forest hear when you play?" Ember asked.

  Malik's smile turned enigmatic. "A request for safe passage, mostly. Though sometimes I ask for more specific favors." He nodded toward a cluster of mist gathering between distant trees. "Like asking it to reveal what might otherwise remain hidden."

  As the mist shifted, they caught glimpses of sinuous forms moving through the underbrush—long, serpentine bodies that seemed to blend with their surroundings, visible only as distortions in the air, like heat rising from sun-baked stones.

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  "Mistfangs," he confirmed quietly. "A hunting party. They're following the caravan, waiting for stragglers."

  "How many?" Cinder asked, her posture shifting subtly into something more battle-ready.

  "Six, perhaps seven. More than usual." Malik's expression turned troubled. "Something must have drawn them. They typically avoid large groups."

  "Could be us," Ember suggested, glancing around the circle. "We're pretty... magic."

  "That could definitely explain it," Ash said with a dramatic sigh.

  "So what do we do?" Pyra asked, her eyes shining with excitement. "Confront them?"

  Before anyone could answer, a scream tore through the forest—sharp and suddenly silenced.

  "That came from the front wagons," Ember said, already moving.

  "We need to help," Kindle added, flame sparking along her body despite the forest's dampening effect.

  "Not all of us," Cinder countered, catching Pyra by the wrist as she prepared to leap from the wagon. "Someone needs to guard our position."

  For once, Pyra didn't argue. "Fine. Kindle and I will stay with the wagon. You three go see what's happening."

  Ember hesitated, clearly torn between protecting their group and helping the caravan.

  "Go," Pyra insisted. "We'll be fine. We've got super strength, speed, and fire powers, remember? Even dampened, we're basically unstoppable."

  "Don't engage unless absolutely necessary," Ember warned. "And no wandering off."

  "Promise," Pyra said with a cross-my-heart gesture.

  "Why does that not reassure me?" Cinder muttered, but she was already moving, her body accelerating to that peculiar state where the world slowed around her.

  Ember and Ash followed, their forms blurring as they tapped into their shared speed abilities. Even with their powers dampened by the forest, they moved faster than any normal human, racing toward the front of the caravan where shouts and the clatter of weapons had erupted.

  Malik put away his instrument and drew a slim, curved sword from his saddle.

  "Ladies," he said to Kindle and Pyra with a flourish. "I must attend to my duties as a scout. Can you fend for yourselves until I return?" His voice remained calm, but worry lurked beneath the surface charm.

  "You bet," Pyra assured him with a bright smile. She cracked her knuckles theatrically. "We're the self-defense champions of... whatever our homeland was called. Yell if you need help!"

  Malik hesitated, as if reconsidering the wisdom of leaving them behind, but finally nodded. "Stay put. I'll be back soon." With a click of his tongue, he urged his mount into a trot, navigating the narrow path between wagons and horses.

  Left alone with the wagon, Pyra immediately turned to Kindle with sparkling eyes. "So, how long do you think we need to wait before investigating those weird glowing flowers over there?" She pointed to a cluster of luminous blooms about thirty yards off the path.

  "Ember specifically said no wandering off," Kindle reminded her, though her tone lacked conviction.

  "It's barely wandering! More like... brief botanical appreciation," Pyra countered. "Besides, we can see the wagon from there, and we can run back in literally two seconds if there's trouble."

  Kindle bit her lip, clearly tempted. "Well... they are exceptionally pretty flowers."

  "The prettiest," Pyra agreed enthusiastically. "And think of the scientific value! We're interdimensional travelers documenting a magical ecosystem!"

  "When you put it that way," Kindle conceded with a growing smile, "it would be practically irresponsible not to investigate."

  "Exactly! For science!" Pyra declared, already hopping down from the wagon.

  "And maybe just a teensy bit for adventure," Kindle added, following close behind.

  "That too," Pyra agreed, her fiery hair bobbing as she skipped toward the beckoning flowers. "But mostly science."

  The moment they stepped off the path, the forest seemed to notice them. The quality of light shifted, becoming somehow more attentive, and the omnipresent whispers of leaves intensified. The strange pulling sensation they'd felt on their flames strengthened, more insistent now that they'd left the protection of the marked trail.

  "Whoa," Kindle breathed, feeling her inner fire flicker like a candle in a draft. "The drain is definitely stronger off-path."

  "Worth it," Pyra insisted, pointing to the flowers that now pulsed with inner light as they approached. "Look how they're reacting to us!"

  The blooms—delicate, trumpet-shaped things with petals like translucent silk—were indeed responding to their presence. Each flower turned toward them like miniature sunflowers tracking the sun, their glow intensifying from gentle luminescence to something approaching actual starlight.

  "They're sensing our fire," Kindle realized, extending her hand toward the nearest cluster.

  "Careful," Pyra cautioned, uncharacteristically restrained. "Remember what Malik said about touching them."

  "I'm not going to touch," Kindle assured her. "Just get a closer—"

  She broke off as a distinct rustling sound came from the underbrush beyond the flowers. Both women froze, their enhanced senses suddenly alert to the change in their surroundings.

  The forest had gone silent.

  Even the constant whisper of leaves had ceased, as if the entire woodland held its breath in anticipation.

  "We should go back," Kindle whispered, slowly withdrawing her hand.

  "Agreed," Pyra murmured, taking a careful step backward.

  The rustling came again, closer this time, accompanied by a soft sound like crystal chimes.

  They exchanged wide-eyed glances.

  "Run?" Kindle suggested.

  "Run," Pyra confirmed.

  They turned in perfect unison, only to discover their retreat blocked by a sinuous form that seemed to materialize from the very air itself—translucent as water but with the unmistakable solidity of a predator that had found its prey.

  The Mistfang was beautiful in the way that certain deadly things often are—its serpentine body nearly twenty feet of rippling, crystalline muscle. Its eyes swirled like miniature whirlpools, fixing them with predatory focus. Most disturbing of all were its fangs—long, translucent daggers that refracted light into rainbow patterns as the creature opened its jaws.

  "Well," Pyra said with remarkable calm, "this is awkward."

  The Mistfang lunged.

  Both women blurred into motion, their dampened speed still sufficient to evade the initial strike. They split in opposite directions, drawing the creature's attention between them.

  "Over here, sparkly-snake-thing!" Kindle taunted, waving her hands in the air.

  Under normal circumstances, this would have confused the predator, forcing it to choose one target. But Mistfangs, it seemed, didn't hunt like ordinary creatures.

  Instead of committing to either woman, it simply... divided.

  Like water separating into two streams, the creature's form rippled and split. Where one Mistfang had been, two now existed—smaller but equally lethal, each pursuing one of the fleeing women.

  "They can duplicate?!" Kindle yelped, darting between trees with her pursuer close behind. "That wasn't in the monster manual!"

  "Less complaining, more running!" Pyra called back, executing a dizzying series of direction changes that would have left any normal predator hopelessly confused.

  But the Mistfang matched her movements with fluid grace, its body flowing around obstacles rather than navigating them. Worse, it seemed to be herding her deeper into the forest, away from the path and the relative safety of the caravan.

  Pyra realized the strategy too late. She'd been so focused on evasion that she'd lost track of her orientation. The marked trail was nowhere in sight, and the canopy overhead had thickened, reducing the filtered sunlight to a murky green twilight.

  "Kindle!" she shouted. "We need to get back to the path!"

  No answer came.

  The Mistfang pursuing her abruptly lunged, its crystalline fangs barely missing her ankle as she leaped over a fallen log. Pyra gathered her dampened flames, preparing to unleash a defensive burst. She might not have her full power, but even diminished fire should deter a predator.

  The flames sputtered in her palm, weak as a guttering candle.

  "Oh, come on!" she protested, shaking her hand as if to clear a malfunction. "Work, stupid fire!"

  The Mistfang seemed almost amused, circling her with deliberate, patient movements. Its eyes never left her, whirlpool centers spinning hypnotically.

  "Fine," Pyra muttered, shifting tactics. "If I can't burn you, I'll just have to punch your transparent face in."

  She dropped into a fighting stance, channeling her energy into physical strength rather than flames. Even with dampened powers, she could still lift several times her body weight, and her reflexes remained superhumanly sharp.

  The Mistfang chose that moment to attack, launching itself with startling speed directly at her throat.

  Pyra sidestepped and delivered a devastating roundhouse kick that connected solidly with the creature's midsection. The impact sent ripples through its translucent form, as if she'd struck the surface of a pond. It hissed in pain or surprise—the sound like crystal vibrating at high frequency—and retreated momentarily.

  "Not so fun when the prey fights back, huh?" Pyra taunted, confidence surging. She advanced, fists raised.

  The Mistfang regarded her with those hypnotic eyes, its body language shifting from predatory to... calculating.

  It was that momentary hesitation—that hint of intelligence beyond animal instinct—that saved her from the second Mistfang dropping silently from the branches above.

  Pyra sensed rather than saw the ambush, rolling sideways as crystalline fangs punctured the space where her shoulder had been a heartbeat earlier. She came up in a crouch, now facing two identical predators that began circling her in opposite directions.

  "So that's how we're playing," she muttered, backing slowly toward a massive tree trunk to protect her rear. "Two against one? Hardly seems sporting."

  As if in answer, a third Mistfang slithered from behind a nearby boulder, joining the circle of predators.

  "Oh, come on!" Pyra exclaimed. "Where are you all coming from?"

  A familiar voice cut through her mounting panic: "Pyra! Hold on!"

  Kindle burst through the underbrush, her golden flames sputtering but visible as she charged toward the standoff. Her own Mistfang pursuer was nowhere in sight.

  "Kindle!" Relief flooded Pyra's voice. "What happened to yours?"

  "Punched it in the face," Kindle replied, skidding to a halt beside her sister-self. "Then kicked it somewhere delicate. Then ran like hell."

  "Good strategy," Pyra approved, bumping shoulders with her. "Ready for round two?"

  "Always," Kindle grinned, her battle-stance mirroring Pyra's.

  The Mistfangs seemed briefly confused by this development, their fluid bodies rippling with what might have been uncertainty. Then, as if reaching a collective decision, they attacked simultaneously from three directions.

  The battle that followed was a blur of motion and instinct. Dampened though their powers were, Pyra and Kindle fought with the telepathic coordination that came from sharing the same soul.

  When one ducked, the other struck. When one advanced, the other guarded. Their movements formed a deadly dance, each anticipating the other's needs without words.

  Pyra landed a solid blow against the first Mistfang, sending it tumbling into a patch of luminescent mushrooms that erupted in clouds of glittering spores. Kindle caught another with a sweeping kick that disrupted its liquid form, forcing it to retreat and reconstitute.

  For a moment, victory seemed possible.

  Then Kindle slipped on loose stones, her balance faltering just enough for the third Mistfang to strike. Its crystalline fangs sank into her forearm before she could fully evade.

  She cried out, more in surprise than pain, and tore free with a violent wrench. The bite left no visible wound, but immediately a cold numbness spread up her arm, draining her strength and extinguishing the last vestiges of her flame.

  "Kindle!" Pyra shouted, rushing to her side as the Mistfangs regrouped. "It's—it's shutting down my fire."

  Pyra moved instantly to support her, placing herself between Kindle and the circling predators. "Can you run?"

  Kindle tried to summon her speed and stumbled, nearly falling. "No. Everything's... muffled. Like moving through syrup."

  The Mistfangs seemed to sense their advantage, closing the circle tighter.

  Pyra made a split-second decision.

  "The path is that way," she said, pointing toward a gap between trees where fractionally more light filtered through. "When I create an opening, you run. Don't stop until you reach the caravan."

  "I'm not leaving you," Kindle protested.

  "You've been neutered power-wise," Pyra countered, her grin fierce despite the dire situation. "I'm still got my speed and strength. I'll be right behind you."

  Before Kindle could argue further, Pyra exploded into action. She charged directly at the largest Mistfang, her body accelerating to its maximum dampened speed. The creature struck at her, but she'd anticipated this, twisting in mid-air to avoid its fangs while delivering a bone-crushing blow to what approximated its head.

  The Mistfang's form destabilized, flowing like spilled water across the forest floor.

  "Now!" Pyra shouted. "Run!"

  Kindle hesitated just long enough to see one of the remaining Mistfangs lunge at Pyra's unprotected back, then forced her leaden limbs into motion. Without her enhanced speed, she moved like an ordinary human—painfully slow compared to her usual capabilities, but still determinedly forward.

  Behind her, she heard Pyra's defiant laugh, followed by the crystalline sound of Mistfangs hissing in frustrated pursuit.

  "That's right, you overgrown mood rings!" Pyra's voice rang out. "Come and get the premium flame! Top shelf fire right here!"

  Kindle glanced back just long enough to see Pyra deliberately leading the creatures away from her escape route, drawing them deeper into the forest with taunts and erratic movements.

  Something in her chest constricted painfully.

  "Pyra, you idiot," she whispered, but kept moving, trusting her sister-self's judgment even as fear climbed her throat like ivy.