“So, the kidnapped kids—whoever wants the Sampo, they are draining Natalie and the others of magic.” That’s why Natalie is a liekkiö! My suspicions were correct and, just this one time, I wish I hadn’t been right.

“Draining magic like that—it can kill a person.” Morgan’s voice is a hoarse whisper.

“They’re still alive.” I try not to think of Natalie and the others being used like magical protein shakes. It’s an image that’s stained my mind. I’ll need a bucket of bleach to wash it away. “We still have time.” Maybe saying it enough times will make it true.

“And all this for some relic that does what exactly?” Morgan asks.

“Depends who wields it,” Toivo says. “But it’ll be used for nothing good in the hands of the Order of Louhi.”

“So, the league of chaos mages is still active?” Morgan and I share a look of matching raised eyebrows.

“Always have been, just never this openly,” Toivo says. “For someone who thinks they know everything, you don’t seem to know much at all.”

“Did you know all this before you read the battle mage book?” I ask, satisfied when he doesn’t have a comeback. “And what about Tumultua? Is she still locked up?”

“There’s a theory that her followers might be trying to use the Sampo to free her and bring about a new era of chaos magic,” Aoife answers.

“Sounds ridiculous,” I say, because it does. Like some twisted fairy tale come to life in all the wrong ways.

“I thought so too, but they seem pretty determined to collect all the shards,” Toivo says.

That sends all of us into a brooding silence as the forest continues to thicken around us. The branches, spiked with thorns, snag on our clothes like corpse fingers. It’s quiet except for the crunching of our footsteps, as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for something.

There it is. A flash of movement between the trees.

“Did you see that?” Morgan steps protectively in front of me.

A child’s laughter bounces among the branches, the sound sinister and not at all cheerful.

“Everyone heard that, right?” Morgan casts anxious glances left and right.

Another flash of movement: a figure in red darts across the path.

“That’s Hannah!” Aoife takes off after the figure flitting in and out of the trees as it cuts a zigzag across the path.

“No! Don’t!” Toivo tries to grab Aoife’s hand, but she shakes him off, running faster and screaming her sister’s name.

“Stop!” I latch on to Morgan’s arm. “It might not be her.”

“She has a red jumper just like that. And that’s her voice,” Morgan says.

“It could be a trick. You have no idea what it might be,” Toivo says.