Mom turns her back on Emmi, the full force of her attention on me.

“Right young lady, we’re going to have a proper chat.”

“Mom!” I glower. I know she’s angry but that doesn’t mean she can misgender me.

For a moment we stand in silence as Mom blinks at me.

“Gods, I’m sorry.” She wipes her hand over her face. “I’m sorry, Taika. I’ve just been so concerned about you.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying it’s okay. Ten long seconds trickle past as Mom regards me, waiting.

“They’re on the other side of the tonttukivi,” I say. “In Lumikuuro. We have to save them.”

“Not here,” Mom whispers and casts a glance up at the trees. “We don’t know who’s listening.” She takes me by the hand as if I’m some tantrumming toddler and marches me home.

***

Inside, Mom checks all the wards on the windows and casts an additional anti-eavesdropping spell on the kitchen before she says anything.

“Okay, from the beginning. Slowly this time.”

I take a deep breath and start again, this time managing to get the words out and all in the correct order.

By the time I get to the part where the crows and Kalma led me to Emmi, I’m ready to pass out from hunger. The granola bar was hardly enough, and I’m parched again from all the talking. I can only imagine how awful Morgan and the others must be feeling.

If they’re even alive, the little voice says, ever the ray of sunshine.

Thankfully, while I’ve been talking, Mom has been bustling around the kitchen and now shoves a plate of sandwiches into my hands. I stuff my face with rye bread and cheese.

“You really spoke to a hiisi?” Mom asks, and I nod. “And you asked the forest for help, and it responded?”

“I told you already,” I say.

“Incredible, just—I need to call your father.”

I finish the sandwiches while Mom speaks to Dad.

“Is he angry with me?” I ask when Mom hangs up.

“Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?” Mom takes a seat across the table from me, eyes all shimmery as if she’s holding back tears. “We had no idea where you were. Toivo too. And Morgan’s parents—” Mom shakes her head and draws a shuddering breath.

The greater consequences of my actions start to dawn on me as I remember what Dad said about how this would reflect poorly on Mom and jeopardize her position with the UCMW.

“We didn’t mean to make anyone worry.”

“Worry?” Mom laughs, the sound like splintering glass. “We weren’t worried, we were terrified. We still are!”

“I’m sorry.” I swallow the boulder lodged in my throat. “But that’s why it’s so important we go back.”