Leelo couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in her mother’s room. Once, it had been Fiona and Kellan’s, and she had distant memories of sitting in the corner rocking chair with her father, of her mother brushing her hair at the vanity. But now there were two small beds, one for Fiona and one for Ketty. There were no bright felted ornaments in here, just lace curtains yellowed with age and a charcoal sketch of Leelo and Sage as girls.

“What did you want to show me?” Leelo asked as her mother sat on her bed.

“It’s in the wardrobe. There’s a box at the top. Fetch it for me?”

Leelo nodded and opened the doors of the wardrobe. Inside, it smelled like cedar and lavender. All of Mama’s sweaters were folded neatly on shelves next to her few skirts and single dress. Though she delighted in making clothing for Leelo, she was a creature of habit, wearing the same plain blouses and skirts most of the time.

Leelo reached up to the top, feeling among the knitted blankets and linens, until her hand closed on a small wooden box. She pulled it down, her fingers running over the carving of two swans, their necks bowed toward each other, forming a heart.

“Where did you get this?” Leelo asked as she handed it to her mother.

“Your father made it for me. He was quite a skilled carver, you know.”

Kellan had been a carpenter—he’d made most of the furniture in their home—but Leelo had never known he could craft something so delicate. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was my wedding gift. He said the swans are a symbol of fidelity, since they mate for life.”

“How did he know that?”

“I think he heard it from his father, who heard it from his father. He was among the group of people who settled Endla, though he was just a child at the time.”

“I wish I could see that. Two swans, swimming together.” Leelo traced the curves of the swans’ necks with her finger. She’d only ever seen birds drown, thanks to the poison in the lake, but once upon a time, that hadn’t been the case. At least according to the stories. “Do you really believe the Forest made the lake poisonous to protect us?”

Fiona’s brow was furrowed, her mouth curved in a frown, but after a moment she swallowed down whatever she had been planning to say. “Your father always said that stories are like wood, bending and warping with the passage of time. But I believe there is some truth to the legend, yes.”

Leelo’s heart began to pound as she realized what she was going to ask her mother. “Mama—”