Herbalists' Cache damson

he knew that scent. tracelike. tiny. barely a hint. but it had been at the peak, disappearing with her trail into a snarl of briars.

the goldlight flowed from her too, but there was more here: strands of burgundy, filaments of viridian, voidless lines of ichor.

he had never seen such a thing.

from his throat echoed Wolf's voice, sibilant and toneless; "where is the child you took?"

obsidian pools compelled her to drown in his stare. "something sleeps inside them."