I kept very still, peering into the shadowy depths under the trees, but I could see only patterns of light and shadow. Under the broad branches of the oaks vast distances seemed to open up, as if there existed doorways to a realm far wider than the expanses of the forest might allow. It was said, of course, that within the woods of Sevenwaters were portals of a very special kind: openings to the Otherworld. Traveling through such a doorway would be both wondrous and perilous, for time passed differently in that place. A man or woman might spend one night there and come back to find a hundred years had flown by in the human world. Or one might tarry for half a lifetime among the Fair Folk and return to one’s own world with less than a season gone. It was wisest not to stray into such corners of the forest unless one placed the desire for adventure above all else.

Something caught my eye, not a movement, more of a . . . presence. Was that a man standing against the trunk of a great tree, a man wrapped in a hooded cape of shadow gray?

“Who’s there?” I called. “Come out and account for yourself!”

Even as I spoke it occurred to me that if anyone obeyed I was ill equipped to deal with the situation. I had no skills in combat and not so much as a vegetable knife on my person. I picked up my skirts and ran.

For some time the only sound was the thud of my footsteps on the soft path. Or were there two sets of footsteps? I ran faster, and whoever was following me sped up to match. My breath was coming in gasps now, and behind me someone else was breathing too, in and out as he maintained steady pursuit. My heart jumped about in my chest; my skin was clammy with fear. The trees seemed to jerk and spin, and the spaces between them to widen as if inviting me to leave the path and stray at random. “I won’t have this,” I muttered to myself. “I just won’t.” It didn’t seem to help.

A voice spoke right inside my mind. Clodagh! Clodagh, where are you? I tripped over a rock and sprawled full-length on the path, my head swimming with panic. A moment later I realized this had not been the taunt of a pursuer, but the familiar voice of my twin sister. I sat up, brushing the hair out of my eyes, and knew immediately that if someone—otherworldly presence or human miscreant—had been following me before, that person was now gone. The forest around me was peaceful. Birds sang. Leaves rustled in the slight breeze. The path led straight onward. Above the canopy of tall oaks the sun shone on a perfect spring day.