Leelo could tell that Sage wasn’t anywhere close to sleeping; her breathing was fast and angry. She waited a few minutes and then left the room, padding quietly down the stairs. She opened the door to Tate’s room and slipped into the dark space, crouching to avoid hitting her head on the sloped ceiling. Tate slept on a mattress on the floor, and it was easy to kneel onto it, lift the blanket, and crawl in next to her brother.

“Hello,” he murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

He turned toward her, his eyes shiny in the dark. “Are you all right? Mama said the ceremony went well.”

“I’m fine. I just wanted to see you.”

“We don’t have much time left,” he whispered.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “We’ll make the most of it.”

Tate was quiet for long enough that Leelo thought he must be on the edge of sleep, but then he spoke again. “Is it true that we can really never see each other again once I leave?”

Leelo bit her lip to stifle a sob. Her prayers hadn’t worked, and neither had her sacrifice. What would it take, she wondered, to appease the Forest? A flock of birds? An entire caribou?

“Maybe you can send me some sign that you’re all right,” she said. “In the winter, when you won’t have to worry about the singing.”

“What kind of sign?” he asked, brightening.

“A fire, near the lake’s edge? No one ever camps there, so I’ll know it’s you.”

“But how will you see it?”

“I’ll come to the shore, starting the first night of winter. An hour after sunset, so I can see the flames.” Most islanders hated the winter; they couldn’t sing, and they didn’t have the lake to protect them from the outsiders. But while Leelo might miss the greens and pinks of spring and summer and the flame-bright foliage of autumn, she was starting to think winter had its own quiet beauty. The dormant Forest was soft and still beneath its snowy mantle, the animals tucked safely away in their dens. Winter was the only season on Endla that wasn’t corroded by poison.

She squeezed her brother’s hand. “Knowing you’re safe will bring me so much peace, Tate.”

He was quiet for a long time. But then he said, “I still wish you could come to visit.”

Endlans didn’t leave Endla. Everyone knew that. They said the island grew roots around your feet so you couldn’t leave, even if you wanted to.