Gillwyn and Cindel Forester ran. Hurtling through the woods, they bounded over fallen logs and through rocky ravines. Pa had gone this way. His scent was in the air, as was that of heather and amaranth. Cana's scent still lingered on her stolen skin.

The rain continued to fall. It kicked up the deep scent of soil and greenery. In moments, the scent of rainfall would cloak that of Pa and the skindancer. They were too far ahead, and Gillwyn didn't believe she could find them before then.

She was going to be too late.

Cindel was breathing heavily. She nor any of the Foresters were arcanists, but losing ether came as a shock to anyone. That Cindel managed to move at all after being spiked by a Dekaam was a testament to how willful she was. Even so, Gillwyn was pulling ahead and needed to pace herself so as not to leave Cindel behind.

It was frustrating. They weren't moving near fast enough, and Pa didn't know how much danger he was in. The skindancer could even now be waiting for Pa to drop his guard and make its move. Gillwyn couldn't even know if it already happened. She knew too little of what the skindancer wanted.

It could have simply wanted to kill Pa. He was a strong man and a powerful were, an obstacle to its goals. The skindancer might not have been formidable enough to attack him directly and so played these sadistic games. Perhaps it searched for something. It may have thought Pa knew where this thing was, and there were manipulations still ahead.

Another thought occurred to Gillwyn, one that chilled her to the bones. Maybe the skindancer did what it did simply because it could. A game. It murdered and toyed with people because it enjoyed it.

"Gill," Cindel panted. "I can't keep up."

Cindel was flagging. Her mouth hung open as she sucked down gulps of air. She held a hand to her side, cramping from the exertion.

Gillwyn came to a stop, and her sister leaned on her knees to catch her wind. "It's not much further," Gillwyn said. "Goodman Wizard's place is just ahead. Pa told the skindancer he'd take it there."

"If it let him," Cindel wheezed. "Arcanist might sense what it is. Too many magics. And Pa said that so we could hear."

Gillwyn scowled. Cindel had a good point. Pa was cunning and clever. If he thought either Cindel or Gillwyn was the skindancer, he wouldn't have just come out and said where he was going.

A distant sense of anger and resentment for her pa wormed into her heart. Even if one of them had been the skindancer, he believed he was leaving one of his daughters to face the other's killer alone. Winds take him. When next he saw them, one daughter dead and another alive, he'd be in the same predicament. Would the surviving daughter really be his daughter?

Gillwyn reevaluated her opinion of Pa's cleverness. Apologies were due once the skindancer was ripped apart, and she'd make certain he'd take his penance.

He thought he was saving Cana, Gillwyn thought. She knew she'd have done the same in his place. In the end, she couldn't judge him harshly.

"Pa came this way," Gillwyn said as she surveyed the trees. "I can smell him, but you're right that he might have doubled back. What do you remember about skindancers?"

"Patient," Cindel said. "They'll observe their prey for weeks before making a move if they think they need to. Intelligent. Secretive. They're loners, reproduce by molting, and only keep with others of their kind to teach their young before abandoning them. And they're pureblooded."

"You never see their true form," Gillwyn added, remembering the lessons Ma and Pa had given them all about the other races of shifter. "They live their lives in stolen skins and find new ones before the old ones rot away. Nomadic, always moving on before anyone notices their presence. They don't assimilate with humans or fey like the rest of us."

Cindel was grimacing. "What do you think it's capable of? How strong? How fast?"

Gillwyn shook her head. "I don't know. When it was pretending to be Cana, it let on that it had a sharper nose than a human. Can't say if it's much stronger or not. It didn't wrestle any orcs where I could see it, at least."

"When they take a skin," Cindel said hesitantly, "they're probably shifting inside it. Make their muscle and bones fit the form of what they're wearing. If it can do that..."

"It can make itself strong," Gillwyn finished. "Makes sense. It won't be able to make itself too much stronger than its victim or it won't fit in the skin, but I'll bet it'll still be packing a wallop." She looked Cindel up and down. "How're you coming along? Can you shift yet?"

Cindel looked down at her hands and got a strained look. After a few moments, she wilted. "Not even a few extra hairs. Winds, Gill, you got me good."

Gillwyn murmured an apology, but she couldn't help but feel impressed with herself. Dekaam spikes were finicky and needed to be placed just so. Her attack had been right on the mark. When she came across the skindancer, she'd be sure to give it a demonstration of her precision.

Going to Goodman Wizard and the sky woman's house up the road was a waste of time. She was sure now that Pa said that as a diversion, and he had left a false trail to sell the deception. Where then? The village seemed the most likely option. If Pa thought himself to be pursued, he could believe that so many humans would make the skindancer give up the chase. Barring that, the militia could be rustled up to turn the tables on it. Skindancers were deceivers and infiltrators, not warriors.

"Moorhaven," Gillwyn said. "But the skindancer will make its move before they get there. We don't have much time."

"I'm slowing you down," Cindel said. "Maybe you should..."

"No," Gillwyn snapped. "What will Pa think if he sees just one of us? We need to reach him together, or he'll feather me with his bow while that thing inside Cana stabs him in the back."

Cindel straightened and got her breathing under control. "So you're saying I need to suck it up and get moving. Fair enough." She grabbed the hem of her dress' skirt and pulled it off over her head. "Do away with this blustering thing. Can't run like this with a skirt."

Any other day, Gillwyn would have shook her head over her sister's impropriety. Tonight, practicality was of far greater concern. Gillwyn stripped down alongside her sister, pausing only to hold onto the panther paw, Dekaam spike, and her long knife.

She focused on the paw and felt something inside her reach out to it. "Let's go," she said as she broke into a run.

Cindel ran behind her and managed to keep pace.

As she broke through tangled boughs and overgrown brush, Gillwyn focused on the paw. She felt its every detail. Its scent. Its weight. Its power. Gillwyn could feel not only the paw, but the essence of the creature it once belonged to.

Up until now, she'd taken in parts of small beasts. A rat, a dog, a cat. Deer, mountain goat, lynx, and wolf. Larger, domestic creatures also. A horse, an ox, Oldwife Thatcher's milk cow. Mammals only for now. She couldn't yet take from reptiles, arthropods, or even the birds Ma loved becoming. Gillwyn's greatest achievement had been wrapping herself in the fur of a bear Pa slew and brought home for his girls. Each beast became a part of her, deep inside, lending her a small part of their ability.

She was stronger than a human. Faster. Her nose was sharper, and her eyes were keener. With every beast she forged this link to, she grew more powerful. She retained not only the inherited ability, but also their form. Each one locked away within her soul and waiting to be called upon.

The paw turned to dust in her hand.

Around her, the night seemed to lessen. Her eyes could more readily pierce through the darkness. The scent of heather and amaranth became stronger and was no longer masked by the rain. Her breaths came with less effort. Her legs struck the ground with greater power, hurtling her forward ever faster.

As she passed through the trees, one step to the next, she was on two legs then four. Two. Four. Two.

A ravine ahead. Gillwyn's paws landed on the length of a fallen tree spanning the gap. Her perfect balance kept her from needing to slow as she crossed. The form locked.

Gillwyn was a panther.

Behind her, she could hear Cindel barely managing to keep up. Her sister was falling behind, but not so far that Gillwyn felt the need to slow down. Pa and the skindancer weren't far.

It was well that panther's didn't weep. Gillwyn's heart lay shattered. Cana was dead. She was dead. It had killed her.

Gillwyn had held her hand, but it hadn't been her inside it. She had pulled Cana to her and felt the touch of her lips. She kissed an abomination, a demonspawned monstrosity, an evil mockery of life that proved humans were wise to hate shifters.

The pain of rage, grief, and heartbreak struck her once more, a thousand times more powerful than any agony she had ever known. Gillwyn screamed, and it left her throat as the mournful roar of a predator.

She found it.

The scent led her to them. Mindless of keeping Cindel close, Gillwyn shot forward and left her behind. Planning and rational thinking were lost in her bloodlust.

It jogged through the underbrush, its hand held in Pa's. The enticing, wondrous scent was still on her. Cana's dress, the one she had made special for her visit with Gillwyn, had mud caked around the hem. It had lost Cana's shawl somewhere in the Senwood, and her beautiful hair was damp from the rain.

It killed her, Gillwyn thought in a rage. It killed Cana!

Her wereblood awoke and felt as if it burned with hellfire. Gillwyn roared as she pounced into the air.

I'll tear it apart!

Pa flung the skindancer behind him, and he skid to a stop. His powered bow hummed as he drew an arrow back to his ear and let it fly.

Gillwyn's paws struck the trunk of an oak and pushed away. She leapt to the side, and Pa's arrow slammed deep into the wood. Alighting on branches and tree trunks, Gillwyn never slowed. Her legs propelled her forward, her black pelt blending into the night. She circled Pa and the monster, searching for an opening to dart in and wrap her fangs around the skindancer's throat.

Pa fired another arrow, then another. They landed wide of their mark. Gillwyn was moving too fast for even Pa to track her movements. Even so, he was a master with a bow. Gillwyn couldn't get much closer, or he would hit his target. An arrow from that bow would punch straight through her body.

"Panthers don't move like that," Pa whispered. His hair all but stood on end. "Winds, it's here!"

He was more right than he knew. Gillwyn landed in front of him in full view. He nocked and drew another arrow.

Gillwyn lifted her front left paw. She stamped it three times.

Pa's eyes went wide, and a small glimmer of hope awoke inside them.

Like a coiled spring being released, Gillwyn pounced at him. The skindancer dared to scream using Cana's voice. Pa loosed his arrow, but his hesitation put off his aim by a hair. The arrow scored across Gillwyn's back, taking fur and a small chunk of her flesh with it. She let the pain in, let it hone and sharpen her killer instinct. Pa wasn't what she leapt for.

Her claws landed on the skindancer's shoulders. Gillwyn slammed the monster wearing Cana's skin to the ground, and the wind left its lungs in a loud rush. Gillwyn shifted and found the Dekaam spike in her hand. She didn't waste time marveling that she'd managed to carry it and her knife into a different form, and she drove it hard into Cana's skin, just beneath the throat.

The skindancer went limp. It was helpless.

"Gill?" Pa shouted. "You... you shifted. It's really you?"

Gillwyn ignored him. Her focus lay under her. The long knife was in her hands and she held it pulled back to strike. Gillwyn needed the weapons. She had needed them with every fiber of will she had. Her clothes and her humanity had been left behind, but tools for taking revenge remained with her.

"Give her back!" Gillwyn roared. The scent of heather and amaranth filled her nose, driving her beyond reason. "She's mine, and you can't have her! Give her back!"

The creature moved Cana's lips. It dared to whisper Gillwyn's name. It looked up at her, its eyes fearful but strangely calm. Deceiver. There was no one else it could be.

Cana's hands reached up and cupped Gillwyn's face. "It's me," she whispered. "Gillwyn, it's me."

A sob heaved in Gillwyn's chest. It couldn't be. No. There was no one else. It couldn't be Pa, and Cindel had been absolved. The skindancer could only be inside Cana. She prepared herself to drive the knife down into its black heart.

"I love you," Cana whispered as she smiled through her tears. "Gillwyn, it's me, and I love you."

The knife fell from Gillwyn's grasp. She seized Cana and held her tight to her chest. Gillwyn wept as Cana, her Cana, stroked her hair.

The acrid scent of the skindancer filled her nose.

Cindel burst into view. Something small in her hand glinted in the moonlight. She hurtled past Pa. He cried out and dropped to his knees, clutching at the Dekaam spike buried in the nape of his neck. Cindel didn't slow as she charged towards Gillwyn and Cana.

The impact threw Gillwyn from Cana. She and the skindancer rolled across the forest floor, hands scrambling for control of the Dekaam spike it held to Gillwyn's throat.

Gillwyn grit her teeth from the strain of holding the spike back. "It was you?" she hissed. "You lied."

The skindancer smirked. It spoke, and out of Cindel's throat came the deep baritone voice of a man. "That's what I do, Gill. I couldn't just let our papa run off without saying goodbye. I needed you to lead me to where he'd taken it."

Gillwyn bit down on the skindancer's hand and drew blood. The creature didn't flinch. The blood tasted foul, like stagnant bog water, and a black fume leaked from the broken skin.

"That's not even my hand, you floundering halfwit."

It slammed its forehead against Gillwyn's nose. She saw stars and blood scent was all she could smell. Her nose was broken and bleeding. It was all she could do to keep from releasing her grip on the spike.

"I like this body, so try not to damage it," the skindancer mocked. "Young and lithe. It's been a long time since I've had one so fetching. I think I can get a lot of enjoyment out of it. I'll put her through the paces she'd never have gotten the chance for in this backwater."

"Foul monster!" Gillwyn howled.

"You should thank me," it said in that vile voice. Cindel's lips peeled back into a horrible grin filled with sharp teeth. "She did. Sweet Cindel can't wait to spread legs for every ruffer in the Spired City."

Gillwyn spat blood into its face. That at least got a reaction. More annoyed than anything, but a reaction.

"Poor Cindel," the skindancer lamented. "She'll be left out. I'm taking your skin now."

"Winds take you. What do you even want?"

The spike was being pushed inexorably closer to Gillwyn's throat. "Never you mind that. Just lie back and let it happen. The feyling won't be so set on escaping if I'm wearing the shifter it's besotted with."

Gillwyn's eyes snapped to Cana. Feyling? She'd never heard of such a thing.

Cana was shaking, and she watched the unfolding struggle with horror in her eyes. She was inching her way to Pa's side, maybe to try to get his help for Gillwyn.

"You will not have her," Gillwyn promised, returning her eyes to the skindancer. "I'll put my sister on a pyre, and you with her."

Something changed in the depths of Cindel's eyes. For a brief moment, Gillwyn could smell its fear.

It was afraid of fire.

Gillwyn reached deep within herself and found a predator. She shifted towards panther, but didn't let it take her completely. She stopped between girl and beast, a hybrid form.

Stronger now, she hurled the skindancer away from her, then let her shifting complete. It was torturous to be halfway between two bodies, and something within her had been strained by it.

Gillwyn needed the means to make fire. She'd never wished to be an arcanist more than she did in that moment. Her mind raced, but she found her thoughts growing thick and muddled. It felt as if something was being drawn from her and even the Senwood itself— drawn to someone else.

Her ether was being taken away.

"Ingtar!"

White flames roared as they swept over the skindancer. The monster howled in pain.

The voice, it was strong. It hammered into the night with the weight of the forest. Gillwyn turned her head to look to its source.

Cana stood over Gillwyn's pa, his powered bow in her hands. She had an arrow nocked and drawn. A light shone from her fair skin— from within her. Her eyes were shining. The dark of the night was repelled by Cana's radiance.

Around her, the forest came alive. Trees and bushes seemed to lean towards her to catch her light.

Through the haze of her slow thoughts, Gillwyn wondered how Cana could possibly be strong enough to draw Pa's bow. The rest of it seemed weirdly inconsequential next to that.

"Arthro hon sul modek intarus," Cana chanted. The broad head of the arrow began to shine as brightly as Cana herself. "Vols arno sul din ingtar!"*

The skindancer stood, its stolen skin alight and smoldering off of its body in clumps of ash. "Half-blood wretch," it roared through it's agony. "I'll rip off your skin and eat your bones! Your Great Spider can't save you! The old masters will tear down the prison it hides behind and take fate for ourselves!"

Cana sneered. "I hate spiders."

She let her arrow fly. It sped through the forest like a shooting star and slammed against the skindancer's chest. The arrow drove in and through its body. The skindancer, and the skin it stole, were consumed by fire and light.

The light coming out of Cana faded and vanished. The bow tumbled from her hands, her eyes closed, and she collapsed. Before she hit the ground, Gillwyn was there to catch her. She wore her true form again, and she brushed sodden hair from Cana's face.

Gillwyn called her name and felt her heart soar when Cana's eyes fluttered open.

"What happened?" Cana asked. "That thing... You were fighting it. There was a light, and... Winds and storms, you turned into a black cat!"

Gillwyn had her own share of questions to ask. More than her share. A thousand of them. But she couldn't get a single one out of her throat through her crying. She held Cana tight and breathed in the scent of heather and amaranth.

Pa groaned as he yanked the spike from his neck. "You girls killed it," he said in a weak voice. "Winds... you avenged your sister, Gill."

Gillwyn hardly cared. No amount of revenge would bring Cindel back to them. Tenel and the twins were going to be heartbroken. And Ma... The Senwood would feel a dark place for a long time.

As the rain fell upon Cindel's ashes, Gillwyn knew she hadn't even begun to mourn her little sister.

In her arms, Cana was turning red. Gillwyn looked down at her, and Cana averted her eyes. Only then did Gillwyn truly register that she was naked as the day she was born. Before she could die of embarrassment, Pa draped his cloak over her shoulders and helped them both to their feet.

"Your grandmother was watching over you, Cana," he said. "She hid you, and that thing thought to use us to learn who you were."

"I don't understand," Cana whispered.

"Can't say as I do, either," Pa replied. "Your family has its share of secrets." His sorrowful eyes landed on Gillwyn. "As many as ours. It's why we help keep watch. The old masters are stirring."

Gillwyn took Cana's hand. The old masters wanted her and had sent their skindancer to take her. A feyling, a child of both human and fey blood. Mortal and spirit essence woven together in one soul.

"You can smell it in the air," Pa said, nose to the wind. "The world is changing."

Cana shivered and let Gillwyn comfort her. "It sounds hopeless," she whispered.

"Maybe," Pa agreed. He looked to what remained of the skindancer. "I'll take you girls to Goodman Wizard's now. I'll have you tell him everything you've seen tonight while I see to... your sister."

"Tell him everything?" Gillwyn asked.

"Everything," Pa said. "He's an old friend. Very old. You could say he's the reason we're all here. Foresters and Millers both."

Gillwyn felt cold. Pa had never told her that others might already know that the Foresters were shifters, or that Cana was... whatever she was. It made her anxious, thinking of telling that kooky, old librarian everything she'd ever kept secret.

Pa guided them towards the road. "His wife will see to your hurts. In dark times, you can always rely on a sky woman to give a bit of hope."

Gillwyn nodded without really listening. She clutched Pa's cloak around her with one hand. The other was firmly in Cana's grip. The other girl held it so tight that it hurt, but Gillwyn didn't mind.

When Cana looked at Gillwyn, she saw a shifter, but she saw a shifter she loved. When Gillwyn looked back, she saw a shining light she loved just as fiercely.

And Gillwyn would always believe Cana when she said she loved her.

*Translation from the Aeldenn Tones: "Wise forebears with sylvan blood, cleanse wickedness with our fire"