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Cedric braced his hands on his knees, his breaths shaky, a deep dread roiling in his gut. Before he could even voice the thought, though, a roar echoed from deeper down the path.

Sid whipped her head toward the sound, hackles raised.

They ran.

Then, just a few yards in front of the massive goldwood tree, with horrified gasps, they stopped.

Several figures lay unmoving in the grass.

The bloodstained grass.

Cedric’s gaze snagged on the unseeing eyes of a healer he recognized, one of the very ones who had worked so diligently to take care of Elyria. A few yards down, the mixedborn girl who had defended the schoolhouse, who had gotten the children to safety, was crumpled on the ground.

Cedric’s heart cracked.

Then it broke.

Because there, looming over a shuddering body—another all-too-familiar body—was the final monstrous beast.

It lifted its head with a snarl, slowly, like it had registered Cedric’s, Elyria’s, and Sid’s sudden presence but was debating whether to abandon its mauled prey. Demonic black eyes fixed on the locket dangling from Elyria’s hand, lit up like a tiny beacon, and that seemed to make up its mind.

It lunged with a roar.

So did Sid.

She collided with the creature mid-leap, the impact sending both of them tumbling to the side. Cedric felt Elyria’s flare of panic down the bond, but before either of them could voice their concern for Sid, the shadowcat had the monster pinned, snapping and thrashing, beneath her.

Cedric didn’t hesitate. One second to unsheathe Ashrender. Another to close the distance between him and the grappling beasts. A third to pierce the monster’s skull with the tip of his blade, then sever its head from its body.

The beast went limp beneath Sid, who shoved it aside with a snarl before turning back toward Cedric with bright, furious eyes. Guilt immediately ate at him, a poison beneath his ribs. This was the monster who had escaped him. He’d thought he saw it heading back toward Elderglade’s entrance, thought it had turned tail and run.

He’d been wrong.

Elyria called to him from where she was now crouched beside the person the beast had just attacked. The locket lay on the ground next to her, burning a black circle into the grass as she worked over the body.

The body of . . .

“Larkess,” Cedric breathed, dropping to his knees beside the fallen elder. “No.”

The elder’s eyelids were half-shut, as though the effort of keeping them open was already too much. Still, as her milky eyes found Cedric’s face, her lips curved into a weak smile. “My boy.”

“Shh. Please, let me—just hold on.” He summoned warmth to his fingertips, his palms lighting up with healing magic. But the depth and expanse of her wounds . . .

He lifted his head to find Elyria staring at him, her emerald eyes lined with tears that spilled down her blood-speckled cheeks as soon as his gaze met hers. She shook her head, and the helplessness pulsing down the bond only served to magnify his own.

She was out of magic.

And even if Cedric had any kind of real mastery over his power, he did not think these were the kinds of injuries that could be healed.

“It is all right,” said Larkess breathily. “The rest are through. The rest are safe. As are you. That is enough.”

“You can’t go,” he whispered hoarsely. “You aren’t done yet. We still need you. I—” He swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe through the panic threatening to overtake him. She was more than just a sylvan elder, a guide in these dark times. She was the last living connection he had to his family, his legacy. “Alouette, please. I still need you.”

Larkess reached for him with trembling fingers. He caught her hand immediately, trying not to sob at how cold it felt. Distantly, he heard footsteps crunching in the grass, heard the low, sad “No” as Kit finally caught up, Jocelyn still in her arms.

“You already have everything you need, dear one,” murmured the elder, her voice weak. “And I am so proud . . . to have seen . . . the man you have become.”

Cedric shook his head. “You’ve so much more yet to see. Conserve your strength.”