Seraphina Nightshade needed to reach the gate, and something with wings stood in her way. She crouched behind a twisted tree, its bark carved with trapped human faces. The faces moaned when she touched them. The gate lay past the clearing, a window framed in crystals that glowed with another world's light. Seal that window and the demons stopped coming. That was her whole purpose now. Her coven had lost three sisters to things that crawled through it. But a fallen angel had slipped out first. The creature hunted across the clearing, dark wings folded, devil horns black against the moonlight. She hunted souls. Seraphina had watched her drag a screaming shape from the air an hour ago. Until the angel left, Seraphina could not cross. She gripped the gems in her hair. Each one held stored light. Her blue dress caught the glow and threw it back. She counted her options and hated all of them. Run, and the angel caught her mid-field. Wait, and dawn never came fast enough. So she chose the tree. Seraphina pressed both palms to the writhing bark. The trapped faces screamed under her hands. She did not pull the souls free. She pushed her light into them instead, feeding the tree's hunger until it woke. Branches cracked and swung. The whole trunk groaned and leaned toward the clearing, reaching. The angel turned. Her seafoam-bright eyes were gone now, replaced by something hollow and black. She saw the tree moving and smiled, as if offered a feast. That was the mistake Seraphina wanted. The angel dove at the waking tree. Branches lashed out and caught one dark wing. The faces in the bark bit down. The angel shrieked and tore loose, feathers ripping free, and beat back toward the sky. Seraphina ran. She crossed the open ground while the angel fought the tree. Her white boots pounded the cracked earth. The crystal window grew huge before her, its jeweled frame humming. She ripped a gem from her hair and raised it. Behind her, the angel shredded the last branch and spun. Seraphina slammed the gem against the glowing glass. Light burst out. The window's otherworldly glow flickered, then dimmed. A seam of frost crawled across the surface. Not sealed. Weakened. The portal's pull died, and the angel's wings faltered in the sudden dead air. The creature dropped to the ground between Seraphina and the window. No way back for her now. The gate had refused its own child. The angel rose on bare feet, wings dragging. She stared at the half-frozen window, then at Seraphina. The hunting smile was gone. Now she looked trapped, and furious, and much closer than before. Seraphina had cut the angel off from the gate. She had also locked a soul-hunter in the woods with her, and no door left to drive it back through.

The wingless angel stood between Seraphina and the frozen gate. Its bare feet dragged through the ash. Seraphina backed away across the clearing, her boots slipping on cracked earth. She reached for the gems in her hair and found only two left. Not enough light to burn a soul-hunter. The angel smiled and came on, hollow black eyes fixed on her chest. Seraphina ran. The angel followed, fast even without wings. It cut sideways and blocked her path back toward the dead portal. She stumbled and fell. Dirt filled her mouth. The creature's clawed hand reached down for her throat. Hooves thundered through the trees. A white horse broke into the clearing, its mane streaked with glowing runes. A rider sat low on its back, a sword raised and shining. The angel spun to face them. The horse did not slow. "Down, witch!" the rider shouted. Seraphina pressed flat to the ground. The sword swept over her and struck the angel's shoulder. The creature shrieked and staggered back, one arm hanging loose. The rider was a small woman in a white hood, her hair pale as the horse beneath her. Seraphina had heard the coven speak of her. The white witch who rode the woods and came when sisters were dying. Elara Whitewood. She had come too late for three of them. She had not come too late for Seraphina. Elara wheeled the horse around. "The light in your hair," she called. "Give it to me. Now." Seraphina tore both gems free and threw them. Elara caught them against her blade. The gems burst. White fire ran down the steel and lit the whole clearing. The angel flinched from the glare and shielded its face with its ruined arm. "Hold still," Elara said, and she was not talking to Seraphina. The horse charged. Elara drove the burning sword through the angel's chest. The creature screamed, a sound that cracked the trees. Black feathers caught fire and curled to nothing. Its body folded inward, thinned, and scattered as grey dust across the ash. The clearing went quiet. Seraphina pushed herself up. Her hands shook. Her hair held no more light. "You killed it," she said. "This one." Elara slid down from the horse and wiped her blade clean. "Not the thing that made it." She nodded at the frozen gate behind them. Frost had spread across the whole surface now, but underneath the glass still glowed faint and sick. "Your seal is cracking. It won't hold through another night." Seraphina stared at the dimming window. She had weakened the gate, not shut it. More things waited on the other side, and her light was spent. "Then we close it for good," Elara said. She held out a gloved hand. "I know the way in. You won't like it." Seraphina took her hand and stood.