It wasresponding.
“You used too much charge,” I say, voice low but steady. “You startled the thistle nets.”
Her brows pinch together, half in confusion, half in shame.
“I thought I was following the markers…”
“You were,” I say, nodding toward a barely visible totem half-buried in moss. “But this section hasn’t been fully rebonded yet.”
She bites her lip. “Am I in trouble?”
I study her.
Shaking. Smudged. Scared.
But not careless.
Justyoung.
“No,” I say. “You’re in the Grove.”
Then I reach down and unlace the ward tangle from around her ankle.
The vines hiss softly, not in anger, but warning—before falling away.
“Come on,” I say, offering a hand. “Let’s get you back to the main path.”
She hesitates.
Then takes it.
Her fingers are small in mine. Human. Fragile. But warm. Trusting.
As we walk, she glances up at me.
“You’re the guardian, right?”
I grunt. “Something like that.”
“They say you used to be invisible.”
“I was.”
“Why’d you stop?”
I look toward the canopy, where the light filters through in golden flecks.
“Because someone asked me to stay.”
She nods like she gets it, even if she doesn’t.
When we reach the edge of the training ring, Callie is there, pacing like she’s ready to sprout wings and search the forest herself.
The girl runs to her, and I hang back.
Watch from a few steps away.
Just long enough to see her safe.
