“Aspen,” I said, placing my own hand on the swell of her womb. “If you love him. If you love me. If you want this child to have a father, then let me go.”

“He told me to keep you here where you were safe.”

“The Huntress will kill them. What if the witch is wrong? What if he is marching right into a trap? The witch told me the curse, and it isn’t clear what happens to the Huntress once it’s broken. It doesn’t say anything about weakness.” I took hope from my own words. “Even if one of them manages to put a spear in her, which I doubt, the rest will die. Her wolves will tear them to pieces, and her bear will break their bones like twigs. What they don’t eat, the snow will bury, until the only thing left of the Locklands is the baby in your belly, and for all I know she might come for him too.”

Aspen wrapped her arms around her middle. “And she’ll listen to you?”

“She will.”

“But Avery won’t.” Her eyes darkened with resolve. “I’ll come with you.”

“Aspen, you’re pregnant. You can’t be out there, and you don’t know the woods like I do.”

“I won’t slow you down,” said Juniper, speaking up for the first time. “Avery might not listen to me, but Bjorn will.”

“Bjorn?” I asked.

“Her betrothed,” said Aspen, looking thoughtful. “He is close with Avery, but he’s nowhere near as pigheaded.”

I hesitated. Juniper was only fourteen. Too young to be married, and way too young to be climbing these mountains. They had already claimed me and condemned my father. I couldn’t put Juniper at risk.

“Besides,” Juniper said, sounding smug, “you won’t be moving as quickly as you’d like, what with a black eye and bruised ribs. You might need me.”

“You could get hurt, or worse.”

“If Avery dies, Bjorn dies too. I lose either way. Let me help.”

I didn’t have time to argue. Every second that passed brought Avery closer to the Huntress and, for all my words, it was not Avery I was worried about. The Huntress was only one woman, and there was an urgency to the whisper of the thorns that set my teeth on edge.

“We need to leave now.”

“There’s a problem,” said Aspen, biting her lip. “Big Tom’s guarding the door.”

“Who’s Big Tom?”

My sisters gave me a look of disgust so achingly familiar I nearly smiled.

“Did you pay attention to anything in this village?” Aspen asked.

“Or, you know, open your eyes?” Juniper shook her head at me. “Big Tom is the butcher’s son, and he’s about seven feet tall and built like an ox, only he’s not dumb like one.”

“So why didn’t they take him with them?”