I didn't look back. Looking back wouldn't change the math. The clone was gone, dissolved into mana by a creature that was still tracking us through the smoke by scent and sound and the specific vibration of two heartbeats moving too fast through undergrowth too thick.
Blair's breathing came in ragged gasps against my shoulder. The burn along her side was bad, the kind of injury where you could see layers of tissue that should remain interior, and every step jostled the wound in ways that made her breath catch. She'd set fire to an entire ancient forest because she was scared and couldn't control the output of an ability that functioned on emotional regulation, and now she was paying for that decision in charred skin and melting composite material.
