I hold my hand out and let it guide me. I know it would be a mistake to leave the path, but it feels like there’s something in my chest pulling me into the trees, and I follow. What do I have to lose at this point? The thorny brush stings my bare feet and tears my skirts, but I don’t care. My sister is nearby. I can feel it.

“Seelie, wait!” Raze calls. “Don’t leave the—” He reaches the edge of the path and hesitates for a second, and then I hear him groan and crash forward after me. “Seelie!”

I try to keep an eye on the path as it disappears behind us, one eye on him, the other on the compass. But there’s no way to do all three at the same time, and I almost trip over the black fox when it streaks across my feet, so close it makes my skirts flutter.

My eyes follow it as it disappears into the brush, and even the white tip of its tail vanishes. There’s something off about it, and I can’t explain what. The second it takes me to process this is all Raze needs to finally catch up, and he grabs me by the arm before I can run again.

“What...are...you...doing?” he grinds out, breathing hard. He must think I’ve completely lost my mind.

Maybe I have. “Did you see that?” I try to twist away, to check which direction the compass points now, but he’s so much stronger than me.

“The fox? Yeah, it flashed before my eyes right—”

“There was something weird about it,” I insist, finally shoving him away. Leaves rustle, and I see the tip of a sleek black nose, peppered with charcoal gray. The fox. It came back.

“A strange fox?” Raze says sarcastically. He touches my wrist lightly, not holding me back from following but warning me. “In a faerie forest? No wa—”

This time, he’s interrupted by the sound of a hunting horn, a sound that is somehow low and high, brassy and sweet, echoing and inviting all at once.

The fox’s fur bristles, and it pants anxiously, looking torn between running away and approaching us. Ignoring Raze, I crouch, extending my hand for it to sniff.

The fox leans its pointy nose forward, barely brushing the fingertips of my open left hand.

And the compass points straight at it.

The hunting horn blows again, louder, nearer. I meet the fox’s eyes right before it bolts, frightened by the sound. They aren’t yellow, like I expected. They’re dark, rich brown, the same color as mine.

My heart forgets how to beat, hanging frozen in my chest. “Isolde.”

The ground trembles under my feet as I throw myself into the brush. I’d know my twin anywhere, even with four legs and pointy ears. That’s no faerie fox—that’s my sister. And she’s being hunted.

“Wait!” Raze does catch my hand now, throwing me off-balance. He’s still looking behind us, and the thundering of hooves is getting louder, and I’m going to lose her. I pull away viciously.