“Are you sure you weren’t drinking again, Thom?” a younger man asked. “Your stories tend to get more fanciful the more ale you’ve consumed.”

“It was a troll the last time,” someone else said.

“Fairies, the time before that!”

Jaren found himself nodding in agreement. It seemed there were at least a few people in this village with some sense.

But the old man ignored their jibes and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a massive fang, bigger than any Jaren had ever seen. “I yanked this out of my poor Alfie, once the wolf abandoned his body. And don’t tell me you’ve ever seen the likes of it, unless you’re all drunk yourselves!”

Jaren and Story shared a wide-eyed look and slowly backed out of the crowd.

Once they were on the trail back to their house, Story turned to Jaren. “That was...”

“Strange? Bizarre? Disturbing?”

Story nodded emphatically. “Yes.”

“Even I have to admit that was an impressive fang.”

“Starting to believe in magic now, are you?” she asked, bumping him with her shoulder.

Jaren scoffed. “Hardly. But I am starting to believe the people in this village are even nuttier than I thought.” He gestured to Story’s satchel. “What did you buy for Tadpole?”

“Oh, just some cod liver oil. I’m going to tell her it’s a fever remedy. Hopefully it tastes so terrible she won’t be tempted to fake an illness again anytime soon.”

Chapter Nine

Time is going by too quickly, Leelo thought as she and Sage made their way across the island to their patrolling spot for the day. She had continued to sleep in Tate’s room since the night of the festival, and Ketty even managed to refrain from scolding him when he burned the supper. But though Fiona had seemed better for a little while after the spring festival, her condition had worsened since. She was hardly able to get out of bed most days, and Leelo suspected it was at least partly from the knowledge that her only son was leaving. Tate managed to keep a brave face for his family, but at night he cried in his sleep.

Spring was finally here, at least, and the island was blanketed in green, with more flowers bursting through the soil every day. There was to be a slaughter tonight, a ritual killing of an animal by each family to thank the Forest for its abundance and protection from the outsiders. After this, the Forest would be fully awake. Leelo was dreading it, the smell of the blood, the harsh, angry notes of the killing song. But she knew she would have to go, and there was no point fighting it.

Sage nudged Leelo with her elbow as they sat on a log, watching the opposite shore. “He’s going to be fine, you know.”