We retrace our steps as best we can, but the wind has swept away our footprints and the forest keeps shifting. I’m pretty sure the path wasn’t so straight the first time we walked it. And I don’t remember seeing two spruces laced together like that either, but Toivo stomps ahead as if he knows where he’s going. The shadows are thickening again, the darkness pressing against us as if it has substance.

“We should’ve been at the arch by now.” Toivo pauses. He carves more sigils, and a burst of light illuminates our surroundings.

I stare at my brother, able to see him now. Where the heck did my mean, sulky, smug, bookish brother go? Who is this magic-wielding superhero? His jacket hangs in tatters and he’s bleeding from a gash above his right eye, although he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s sweating and breathing hard, a thin trickle of blood snaking out of his nose again.

“Are we lost?” Aoife asks, her face gray and sleeve soaked red.

“It’s the forest.” Toivo’s lights wink out. “I don’t think it wants us to leave.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because—” Toivo grimaces, his face screwed up as he smacks his forehead with his hand. “This tietäjä wants magical kids and we walked right into their trap.”

I can’t argue, but something about that doesn’t seem right. There’s no way the forest would team up with the chaos mage.

“Do you feel anything?” I whisper to Morgan. “I mean, like you did before at the tonttukivi? The emotions of the place.”

“Fear,” Morgan says. “Fear and anger and”—he winces—“pain. A lot of pain. Our magic hurt the trees.”

“I told you not to burn them.” I glare at Toivo.

My brother responds with a twitch of his clenched jaw as he looks away from me.

“We’re not going to get out, are we?” Aoife asks.

“Oh, we’re getting out,” Toivo says. “Even if I have to burn down this whole damn forest and eviscerate every maahinen to do it.”

“Burning the trees is a mistake,” I say. “I think we’re lost because we hurt the forest and it’s upset.”

“What are you talking about?” Toivo throws his hands up, finally acknowledging my existence.

“I’m the one who spoke with the hiisi, remember? And I’m telling you, you pissed off the forest. Keep hurting the trees and we’ll die out here.” My words are harsh, too harsh maybe, but I don’t think being nice will get my message through Toivo’s thick skull.

“Aoife’s losing a lot of blood,” Morgan says.

“I’m fine.” The fact she’s swaying on her feet says otherwise.

“Can you help her?” Morgan turns to Toivo, who wipes blood and sweat off his face and shakes his head.