It had been two days since they escaped the witches’ underground trap. The forest was quiet again. Too quiet.

Selene sat near a small fire, gently running her fingers through her sister’s soft curls. The little girl, still weak, had barely spoken since their escape. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t cry, didn’t complain. She simply stayed close to Selene, like a shadow that needed light.

Caius returned from patrol just before dawn. His boots were covered in dew, his shirt dusty from the woods. He walked over and dropped a wrapped bundle of food beside the fire.

“Nothing strange out there,” he said, sitting down with a sigh. “But the...