He raised his chin as he took the bundled creature from her hands. “We look out for each other, don’t we?”

Her chest ached with love, and with guilt for the lie she was about to tell. “Always.”

Late that night, when everyone else in her house was asleep, Leelo sneaked out, taking a knife from the kitchen on her way. Guided by nothing but moonlight and her own sense of purpose, she made her way to the center of the island, to the heart of the Wandering Forest.

The trees here were special. Each belonged to one of Endla’s families, serving as a kind of patron saint to which the family prayed and left offerings. But winter was the one season that the islanders kept away from the grove. Offerings required a song, and Endlans didn’t sing in the winter. It was the only way to ensure outsiders didn’t come across the ice inadvertently. After all, it was one thing for a Watcher to stop an outsider intent on attacking the Forest or its inhabitants; accidentally luring an innocent with song, however, was against their code.

But tonight, Leelo was prepared to violate the code. Prayers hadn’t worked, which could only mean the Forest wanted a sacrifice. And while she wouldn’t kill an animal—the killing song, which lulled prey into a trancelike state, was too powerful to perform on her own, and there was too much of a risk someone would hear—a small blood sacrifice might be enough to wake Tate’s dormant magic.

She hunched down below her family’s tree, a tall, stately pine that was hundreds of years old, as ancient as the Wandering Forest itself, according to Aunt Ketty. Even before she dragged the knife across her palm, Leelo could feel the music pressing at her throat, so eager to be released after months of silence.

As the blade bit into her skin, the music poured out of her along with the blood, and she almost believed she could hear the trees sighing, though that was probably just the wind. And the way the blood seeped into the ground so quickly, like the roots were drinking it up, was probably just the moonlight playing tricks on her.

And if somewhere across the water, an unwitting young traveler was tossing in his sleep, unaware that the lake whose shore he slept on was full of poison, or that the Forest on the island in its center was just awakening after a long, hungry winter...

Well, then, he should have camped somewhere else tonight.

Chapter Two

“Where have you been?” Stepan demanded, closing the door behind Jaren. He did a cursory inspection to make sure his son was unharmed, then let out a sigh of relief. “We thought the forest spirits had taken you.”