Gretta stood and stretched. She and Rowan had hiked through the morning to a point partway up the Coyote Mountains and then hunkered down in a stand of Palo Verde trees. Sleeping in the dirt wasn’t comfortable, and the risk of fire ants, scorpions, and spiders was an unpleasant thought. Still, she woke feeling well-rested.

The sun was setting to the west, painting the sky in shades of orange with streaks of purple and wispy clouds. To the east, above the mountains, faint stars twinkled. The air was dry and dusty, but that was pretty much everywhere in the Sonoran Desert.

Rowan was sitting a few yards away, watching the sky. He tilted his head as she approached but continued looking up. “I used to watch the satellites pass overhead with my dad.” A streak of light flickered across the night sky, and he pointed. “I thought they were falling stars, so I’d wish on them. I suspect my dad didn’t want to spoil it for me, so he didn’t tell me what they really were.”

“What did you wish for?” Gretta asked.

Rowan was silent long enough that Gretta started to think he wouldn’t answer.

“I wished my parents would live forever.” He shrugged. “It was a child’s wish.”

Gretta frowned. “You didn’t wish for a toy or something? That doesn’t sound like a normal kid’s wish.”

“My mom was sick and couldn’t get out of bed,” he said. “My dad… he wasn’t doing well with it.”

“What happened?” Gretta whispered.

“My mom died. Cancer.” His eyes stayed fixed on the sky. “My dad died a few years later in a car accident.” He let out a breath and stood. “Sofia has waited long enough. We should move if you are ready.”

Gretta held out an empty bottle she had taken from the car. “Nalqesh.” The bottle filled with fresh, cool water.

Rowan smiled and took the bottle. “Thanks. To Miguel.” He took a long swig and passed it back.

“To Miguel,” she repeated and drained the rest of the bottle.

She pressed the air out, screwed the cap on, and tucked the bottle into her belt.

“How long will it take to get to the cave?” Gretta asked.

“It’s only about three miles southeast of here, but it’s a pretty rough climb,” he said. “There used to be a few trees but not much cover, so if they spot us, we’ll have to close the distance fast or run away, but there’ll be nowhere to hide.”

“If we assume the redhead and Gabriela took Sofia into the cave, that’ll leave four people to watch for us,” Gretta said. “They’ll probably rest in shifts, so maybe only one or two will be watching at a time.”

“There’s only one clear approach that’s easy to walk up, but they might not know about the game trail winding up the side, out of view. It’ll be tricky, but we can come from above them, and they probably won’t notice.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Gretta frowned. “How do you know about the game trail?”

Rowan shrugged. “That’s how I got there the first time. It’s not like there was a recent map leading to the secret cave.”

Gretta smiled. “Then how do you know about the clear approach?”

“That’s how we left. On the way up, we followed the magic’s pull—but the straight path wasn’t the easiest.” Rowan reached his hand out toward the mountain. “Close your eyes and focus on your astral self—you can almost hear the magic singing from here.”

Gretta closed her eyes and concentrated. A faint beat moved through the astral realm—she could feel it pulsing against her other form. Beyond its rhythm, there was almost a melody she couldn’t quite hear. “I feel it.”

“Abby could feel it too,” Rowan said. “The others, who didn’t get shapeshifting gifts, struggled to feel it. I don’t know if that means Abby and I became shapeshifters because of something about our astral presence or if we always had the latent potential and just needed more magic to unlock it.”

“What does Abby shift into?”

“You don’t usually call her by her name.” He smiled. “I haven’t had a chance to ask. When we ascended, we had only a few minutes together before everyone except me was pulled into the void. In that brief time, I saw her turn into an owl and some sort of prehistoric lion nearly as big as your elephant form. Part of me suspects she can be anything she wants to be—because that’s who she is. She’s what you need when you need her.”

Gretta started walking toward the mountain, following the magic rhythm. Rowan fell into step with her. At first, the terrain was steep hills with the occasional boulder or tree interrupting the direct route, but nothing too bad. As they climbed higher, a narrow game trail became apparent, and they followed it up the mountain.

“It’s getting dark. I can barely see. We’re going to slip and fall,” Gretta said. “Should we shift or use a spell to see better?”

“We might need to talk,” Rowan said. “If you know a spell to see in the dark, maybe we should use that.”

“I have a spell that enhances the senses,” she said. “It won’t let you see in true dark, but there’s enough starlight to see with a little help.” She whispered, “Vireth,” and the dark terrain became distinct shades of blue and purple, making it easy to see.

“When you cast it, focus on your sight,” she said. “The spell can enhance your other senses, but you’ll get tired quickly.”

Rowan spoke the word ‘vireth’ and smiled. “This is as good as my coyote sight.”

Gretta chuckled. “You’d probably appreciate tiger vision—it’s way better than this spell.”

The path became harder to follow in places where the terrain flattened and grass grew thicker, but the magic always guided them forward. Gretta wondered if the animals could feel it, too.

Rowan paused and put a hand on Gretta’s shoulder. His touch carried a magic that swept through her—wild and untamed, promising freedom, joy, and exhilaration.

“We’re close,” he whispered. “The entrance is just beyond that outcrop.” He pointed to their right at a steep rock face. “We’ll go over it and come back down.”

They climbed for another hour. Gretta’s hands, scraped and bleeding, ached from scrambling up the rocks. Finally, they came to a flat spot. Three mule deer lay together in the grass near a small pool of water. One was slightly bigger—likely a doe—while the other two were probably this year's fawns.

She pointed at the deer, and Rowan smiled. The doe watched them pass, perfectly still. Once Gretta and Rowan reached the other side of the flat area, they glanced down and spotted a small campsite 50 yards below. Four sleeping bags lay around a makeshift camp kitchen, which held a camp stove and two hard-shell supply crates. Assault rifles—AR-15s—leaned against the crates.

“How long are they planning on being there?” Gretta whispered.

Rowan shrugged. “Maybe they think it’ll take a few days. I guess Gabriella is a planner.”