Milkveil came away clean.

  Lysara worked the ravine wall methodically, harvesting along the marked band where pale tiers clung to shaded stone. She sealed each sample as she went, labeling without looking, hands moving on habit.

  Kayden kept watch from higher ground. Tessa stayed closer, mana held low and quiet.

  The forest had been thinned back over the last ten days—patrolled, cleared, contained. Traps marked and disarmed. Corrupted movement driven deeper or taken alive. What remained kept its distance.

  Work could proceed.

  They were nearly finished when Lysara straightened slowly, gaze drifting past the last growth line and into the darker bend of the ravine.

  She didn’t move toward it.

  Not yet.

  “That’s everything,” Kayden said, checking the light through the canopy. “We’re on time.”

  Lysara hesitated.

  “There’s one more site,” she said. Not pointing. Not stepping away. Just stating it.

  Kayden’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You didn’t mark it.”

  “I didn’t go that far,” she said. “I noticed it on the way back. Deeper in.”

  Tessa tilted her head. “What kind of growth.”

  “Gravewatch Shelf.”

  That earned her both of their attention.

  “It forms near old kill sites,” Lysara continued evenly. “Long-term ones. The fungus responds to death mana — not fresh, but settled. Spores induce vertigo in high concentration, but when prepared correctly, it acts as a stabilizer. It slows mana shock. Helps injuries hold.”

  Kayden crossed his arms. “And it’s deeper.”

  “Yes.”

  “How much deeper.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “A hour,” she said. Then, after a beat, “Maybe less.”

  Tessa studied her face. “You’ve been thinking about this.”

  “Yes.”

  Kayden exhaled once through his nose. “Lysara.”

  She looked at him then.

  Not pleading. Not dramatic. Just… open. Eyes wide, shoulders held still, hands folded carefully in front of her as if she’d already decided not to move unless told.

  “I’m working on a theory,” she said. “Professor Hale approved the direction. Milkveil helps with uptake. Gravewatch helps with retention. Together—” She stopped herself, breath hitching once before she steadied it. “I won’t find another site this close to the edge.”

  Tessa looked between them. Then, deliberately, she said, “How unstable are the spores.”

  “Only if disturbed improperly,” Lysara replied immediately. “I won’t harvest the core. Just the outer shelves.”

  Kayden closed his eyes briefly.

  When he opened them, Lysara hadn’t moved. She hadn’t leaned in. She hadn’t pushed. She just waited.

  He looked past her, into the darker bend of the ravine, then back at Tessa.

  “You stay tight,” he said.

  Tessa nodded. “I will.”

  Kayden looked at Lysara again. “We don’t go off line. We don’t linger. You call it the moment something feels wrong.”

  “Yes,” she said. Too fast. Then corrected herself. “I will.”

  They moved.

  The ravine narrowed as they went, stone giving way to older growth. Trees thickened. Light thinned. The air cooled sharply, carrying a faint, mineral tang that made Lysara pull her scarf higher.

  Gravewatch Shelf clung to the fallen trunk in brittle tiers, pale and dry, the edges curling faintly as if resisting the damp air around them. Lysara knelt beside it, blade moving with careful precision. She disturbed only the outer shelves, pausing between cuts to let the spores settle.

  Behind her, Kayden shifted his stance. Tessa adjusted once, then stilled.

  The forest pressed closer.

  Lysara felt it before she heard it — a pressure shift, subtle but wrong. She finished the cut she’d started, sealed the shelf into oilcloth, and slid it into her pack.

  Then the sound reached her.

  A scrape. Heavy. Deliberate.

  “Movement,” she said calmly. “Front-left. Tree line. Four, maybe five.”

  Kayden moved at once, stepping past her as steel cleared its sheath. Tessa followed, mana already threading tight and ready.

  Lysara stayed where she was.

  The Ashfur Wolves broke from the brush in a coordinated rush — four shapes low and fast, fanning wide. Kayden met them head-on, blade flashing as he drove the first back, then pivoted to catch the second before it could slip past.

  Tessa’s spell struck a heartbeat later.

  It caught two wolves at once.

  One took the blast full in the chest and dropped hard, body folding wrong as it hit the ground. It didn’t move again.

  Kayden pivoted half a step without breaking his line, drove his blade through the nearest wolf’s throat, and wrenched it free as the body collapsed at his feet.

  The second Ashfur was lifted clean off its feet and thrown sideways, crashing through brush and stone toward the treeline with a wet, snapping sound. It yelped once — sharp, panicked — then bolted, claws tearing bark as it fled into the forest, away from the pack.

  Three bodies pressed the line hard enough that there was no space left for anything else.

  Lysara shifted, clearing the harvest site, eyes never leaving the edges.

  The fight pulled forward.

  One wolf faltered mid-step. The brush parted — and something else stepped through.