You see, one of his favorite pranks was to inhabit the corpses of the forest. He would hide within them and wait for one of his Thread-siblings or Thread-cousins to walk by … Then he would leap free and lock them in chains. Sometimes he left his family for hours like that; once, he left Middle Sister Swallow for an entire year.

He had never been so foolish as to play this trick on Owl, though, for with her connection to the forest and all living things, she could always see right through his disguises.

And she saw right through him on that night too.

Normally, she would have turned away, but for once, she felt mischievous. So she pretended not to notice Trickster hiding in the badger’s body. She changed into her human form and wandered past him, humming into the autumn night.

As she knew would happen when she reached him, his soul leaped from the badger and returned to its human form. But when he tried to chain Owl, she chained him instead. And though he begged for her to set him free, she simply kissed him on his forehead and took flight as her animal self once more.

And thus it was that Trickster was bound for a full ten years, and no chaos disrupted the Witchlands. And thus it was that Moon Mother found her fear receded—though at the time, she did not understand why.

And, perhaps most important of all, thus it was that Little Sister Owl became known as the cleverest of the gods. She was the only one to ever best Trickster, you see, and some say that is why he fell in love with her—although that is another story for another night.

Iseult sucked in a breath. She couldn’t believe she’d made it to the end of the tale without her voice breaking or anyone waking up. She was thirsty; her throat hurt and her jaw ached. But at least Owl’s Threads had softened. Gone was the terror, gone was the white. Now, there was a grassy curiosity … and a darker determination.

She was not looking at Iseult, though, but at Aeduan and Evrane.

“What is it?” Iseult asked, earning a glare—as if Owl said, I am gagged, remember?

And Iseult almost smiled at that expression. That was the Owl she wanted to see. “Try to sleep,” she said. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but we don’t know what tomorrow will bring, and we must stay strong.”

Again, Owl glared, but this time her Threads were laced with a different sort of impatience. She stared pointedly at Aeduan and Evrane before dragging her hazel eyes back to Iseult’s. Twice she did this …