I surfaced with a gasp, the sheer shock of icy water seeming to shrink my lungs three sizes.

The heavy drag of my fur cloak threatened to submerge me again, and I kicked my legs desperately, trying to tear at the metal clasps that bound it in front of me. Water covered my face, bubbles streaming from my nose. I could swim well, but not wearing so much weight, and my limbs were sluggish from the cold.

Managing to surface for one blissful breath, I went under again. It was getting harder and harder to keep kicking. The cloak felt like it was getting heavier—or perhaps there were grasping hands deep beneath the water, trying to drag me down. Panic bloomed, hot in my chest. I thrashed out, trying to find purchase, but there was nothing to grab onto; my eyes felt tight with pressure, my lungs heaving for sweet air and finding only water, and the surface seemed so far away—

A hand suddenly plunged through the water and locked in the collar of my cloak and shirt. It hauled me to the surface and suddenly I could breathe again, water spewing from my lungs as I hacked and coughed. Was this how my father felt, day after day? Unable to purge the heaviness from his chest?

"I've got you," Casimir said, dragging me into the circle of his arms and kicking for the shore.

I barely felt him haul me out. My bones were as heavy as lead, and all I could do was suck in the sweet, bitter air.

I'd nearly drowned.

Then we were safe on dry ground, collapsing in the snow. Hands tugged on my clothes, stripping my fur cloak free. I vomited a mouthful of water as Casimir turned me onto my side, tearing my leather jerkin open in sharp jerking movements. The wind seemed to slide straight through my wet tunic and wool undershirt.

"We need to get you out of these clothes," Casimir said, trying to rub heat into my arms.

My teeth chattered. "That seems... rather desperate... of you."

The gold of his eyes met mine. Then he laughed faintly. "I prefer my women a little less drowned rat."

"You're not... cold?"

His eyelashes were spiked together with water and trails of it slid down his tanned cheeks. "My blood runs hotter than yours does. In the winter, my kind swims in pools of water like this. It's invigorating."

"That's one word for it." I sank my head bank into the snow. Everything hurt as blood rushed back into frozen limbs. It felt like thousands of needles were stabbing into my fingers and hands.

"You need shelter and a fire." The smile was long gone. "Try not to protest too much."

And with that, he dragged me up into his arms and stood.

My mind seemed to be moving as sluggishly as my blood. "The volgur?"

"Gone. It clearly wasn't hungry enough to pursue us off the edge of the waterfall."

"L-lucky us."

"Or perhaps it sensed easier prey."

I could sense the rawness in his voice. "You think it heard Evaron and the others?"

"They weren't far behind us."

"There's more of them," I pointed out, resting my head against his shoulder as he carried me up the steep banks of the river. "And they have axes and bows. He'll be safe."

A quick flash of his eyes. "It's not him I'm worried about."

That earned a faint flush of heat through my cheeks.

Sweet Vashta, I could barely keep my eyes open. I opened my mouth, but he shook his head, and shouldered into the forest, swinging me in his arms. "Save your breath. You'll need your strength."

It seemed like a mighty fine idea.

I closed my eyes, and let him carry me, dreaming of a fire and some of father's mulled wine. Some part of me wondered if I'd ever be warm again.

* * *

I awoke to crackling flames, lying wrapped in soft fur.

Fire licked at the pile of wood in front of me, burning so hot it was almost white. Where was I? I groggily sat up, the fur slipping from my naked shoulder. I grabbed it before it could fall too far, my fingertips gliding over the silky softness. The fur was dry and soft, the fine silver ruff of a wolf's pelt.

A shadow finally resolved in the darkness, and a set of stark yellow eyes met mine. "I went back for the packs," Casimir said, sitting with his back to the tree across from me. "There's no sign of the others, but I found the volgur's blood trail. Looks like it retreated back the way it came. And Evaron's no fool. He knows I'll find him, when I can. He'll have set up camp somewhere."

"I'm naked," I blurted, noticing my shirt, leather leggings and boots all propped nearby to dry by the fire. Steam curled off my tunic.

"I didn't look."

That didn't make me feel any less bare. I wrapped myself in the fur, only just noticing he wore his still-damp tunic, and little else himself. The shock of seeing his bare toes and hairy legs captured my tongue, and he slowly smiled, as if amused by the sudden furious heat in my cheeks. The tunic hung halfway to his knees, but there was more than enough thigh revealed for my liking.

"You still undressed me."

"Should I have let you freeze?" He snorted. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, and I made sure the fur was covering as much of you as possible. You wouldn't wake. I did try."

Fine. Common sense dictated he'd done the right thing. The miller's son fell through the ice when we were skating once, and it wasn't as though I'd been thinking anything untoward when I stripped him bare.

"Besides, if I was actually trying to get you naked, I'd have asked first," Casimir said, and his voice came out rougher than usual.

My cheeks burned for another reason indeed. Insufferable wolvren. "The answer would be no. Just so you're aware."

He snorted. "As if I'd ask."

"As if I'd—" I'd already said no. Grr. My mind was still working slowly tonight.

Cas arched a brow. "Come, slay me with your wit."

"I'll slay you all right." I growled, reaching for my slightly damp shirt.

He looked away once again, smiling to himself, as I smuggled the shirt beneath the furs. I usually bound my breasts, but there was no sign of that convenient strip of linen, I noticed. And I wasn't about to go searching for it.

"Here," he said, reaching toward my damp clothes and tugging it free.

I grabbed it, and then contemplated the logistics of trying to manage everything while I hid beneath his fur. "Can you turn around?"

He sighed, and did, the firelight highlighting his back. "I'm not going to look."

I made short work of dressing, trying not to look at the way his shirt clung to his broad back and kissed the curve of his ass. Maybe he didn't want to look my way, but I couldn't help looking his. “I’m done.”

Stupid. He was the prince's man. I was a village girl. A hunter.

He didn't even like me.

Or so it seemed.

And I certainly didn't like him.

I couldn't help picturing the gentle way he stroked his horse's neck, murmuring under his breath to her. Nope. Not likable. Not at all. An image of his lashes guarding his eyes last night, when he told me about his past sprang to mind, as if to negate me.

"Are you all right?" he growled, as he turned around. "You look constipated."

I swear to Vashta's holy entrails I’m going to drown him the next time we came across a pool of water.

Casimir laughed, as if he had a direct connection with my mind.

He could have left you to drown. "Thanks. You saved my life today."

"Twice," he pointed out, and took his seat again.

"How did you get the wood to burn?" Most of what I'd seen in our travels was damp.

"Magic."

Magic? I suddenly noticed my own pack was open, the contents rifled. Any heat that had made headway through my body suddenly vanished, and my gaze jerked to his. Suddenly the sheer fury of the fire made sense.

"Keeping secrets, are we?" he mused.

"You found the feather."

"A firebird's feather," he said, turning his attention back to the flames. "Packed away in your bags in some sort of glass tube. You must have forgotten to mention it."

"My father found it in the woods one day, and gave it to my mother as a wedding gift. I didn't— I didn't want Evaron to take it away. It's my father's."

I reached for my bag, checking to make sure everything else was still inside it. There were dry clothes inside, and I hauled my unmentionables and a spare pair of leather leggings out, giving him a slightly raised-brow look.

Casimir turned away in surrender. "I'm not going to tell him. The feather's yours."

"Thank you." Dragging my leggings on beneath the furs, I wriggled around, trying not to flash too much skin. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen it all, but there'd been no way around that then.

There was now.

He stared into the flames, clasping his hands in front of him. The firelight lit the stark line of his cheekbones. "It wouldn't start. I was searching for flint, as mine is missing. Where did he find the feather?"

"He'd never say," I said, with a sigh. "Just that he'd found it within the heart of the forest."

"So someone has been through those thorns."

"He didn't talk about that either." I frowned. It wasn't as though my father had any secrets to keep but... It was weird, now I thought about it in hindsight.

"If we can't find the firebird, then at least the feather might assuage the king's fury," Casimir said quietly.

"No."

"Look, I'm not going to say anything. And I know its yours, but you don't know the king—"

"No. I'm fairly certain if the king sees the feather, he's not going to rest until he gets the rest of the firebird. The woods will be crawling with soldiers."

"Fine. Your decision." He held up his hands. "Your consequences."

I stared at him. It couldn't be that easy.

"What?" he demanded.

"I'm finding it difficult to believe that if push came to shove, and the choice was between Evaron's life and keeping your secret, that you wouldn't tell."

Casimir had a way of looking at me that felt like it stripped me to the bones. "I'd hope you would make the right choice if it came down to that. I know what its like not to be able to make your own choices. I wouldn't take yours from you."

When balanced against a man's life, what was a feather? I sighed. "Prince Perfect would know you'd kept it a secret from him."

"Maybe." He flickered a curious glance my way. "Prince Perfect?"

"Breathe a word of it and I'll tell him you knew about the feather," I muttered, though it was a lie.

I wouldn't be the one who was punished for this secret. Your secret, my secret, I said silently, and he nodded, seeing it in my eyes.

"Where did you get the fur from?" I muttered, not liking where the conversation had gone. His cloak lay by the fire beside mine, sodden and heavy.

Silence greeted my question.

And I remembered what I'd heard of wolvren. They were kin to selkies, and became wolf only when they zipped themselves inside their furs. To steal a wolvren's fur was to doom him to a half-life. He must have kept it rolled in his pack.

I could almost feel the heat of the fur, as if something warmed it from within. Magic, maybe. "Thank you."

He merely rubbed his hands by the flames. "We need you to find the firebird, hence we need you alive. I wouldn't just give my fur to anyone."

And for the first time, I was certain he'd lied to me.

* * *

I don't know what woke me.

But between one blink and the next, my vision slowly focused, and there were a pair of eyes staring at me from the woods.

I sat up with a sharp intake of breath. There was no sign of Casimir, and the fire burned as heartily as it ever had. Scrambling for the knife in my pack, my hand curled around the hilt and then I faced the creature in the trees.

"Your iron cannot hurt me here, child." The old woman in the velvet cloak stepped out of the woods.

"You," I said.

Cas? Where was he? The last I could remember, he'd offered to take the first watch.

"He's not here," said the old woman, reading my intentions. She walked through the fire, and I took a step back as its flames parted around her. "This is not real."

"I'm dreaming?" It certainly felt real. The knife hilt in my hand was solid, and the snow beneath my bare feet felt cold.

But as I looked around, I realized there were no shadows cast here. And the flames felt distant, as though a pane of glass separated me from the heat. "Who are you?"

Her bare feet whispered over the snow, melting little footprints in it. She pressed a hand to a mighty oak, stroking it as one would stroke a cat. "They called me Galina. Once upon a time." She glanced back, her silvery tangled and snarled down her back. "Are you coming child? I can only tell you more if you follow me away from here. Your wolf-man is caught between two worlds. He might sense me and wake to the dream."

Leaving the safety of the fire seemed less than prudent, but... I was already in her power it seemed. How could I escape from a world she ruled?

"You will not be harmed," she said, seeming to sense my reticence. "May Vashta strike me down if you are."

"You said the last time we met you'd tell me what you meant about waiting for me to come here," I pointed out. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me."

Her smile dawned, bright and cruel. "So I did. And I am bound by my word." Her gaze drifted to the fire. "I see you have the feather your father was given."

Given? "He found it."

"Did he?" Another smile. "A long time ago we met, he and I. He was lost in the woods, near starving, bleeding, and hunted by a pack of draugur. I saved his life."

"Why?" A life saved meant a debt owed.

"Because I saw his future and I needed him to live it." Galina's eyes glittered black in the firelight, the flames reflecting back off her pupils. "I allowed him to keep the feather he'd found, as a reminder of the price he owed me."

"What price?"

"A child," she whispered. "A daughter, one of three."

Instantly, I held the knife toward her, my nostrils flaring.

"Oh, child." She rolled her eyes. "I cannot take what is not freely given. I only wished to meet you, to see if you would be a worthy successor. He agreed to only that. I don't see the entire future, only possibilities. You are a possibility. And I've been waiting for you for nearly twenty years."

What? "You want me to be a witch? Like you?"

"I want you to be my successor."

"Then here is my answer: no."

Witches were cruel, solitary creatures who roamed dark woods, and lured the unsuspecting to their deaths. The malicious spells they cast ate away at their souls, leaving behind nothing human.

Galina didn't flinch. She merely smiled, and held a finger to her lips. "The moment of the choice is not upon us. Therefore, you can't deny me, not yet."

"I will keep saying no for a month, if I have to. No, no, no."

"All I wish is for you to listen to me," she said. "You will have your chance to say no, and you will know when the moment arrives. Come, walk with me."

I stared at her. "Why?"

"Will you not listen to what I have to say?"

My eyes narrowed. She'd sworn not to harm me. "If I come with you and hear you out, will you return me to my own world?"

"Of course."

"By the end of an hour?" Only a fool didn't specify limits when dealing with a creature like this.

"Within the hour," she said, and set off through the trees, casting me one last smile.

No reason to panic, I told myself as I followed her through the trees. My father made a deal for me to meet with her. Nothing more. And she wanted something from me. She wasn't going to hurt me until she had it—or knew I wouldn't give it to her. My bare feet crunched on the soft snow. I could barely feel it. For such an old woman, she moved with the kind of grace I'd never seen before. Despite my skill in the forest, she had to wait for me several times.

"You hunt the firebird," Galina finally said, when the trees began to thin.

Something compelled me to say: "The king wants its heart. He's dying, and he needs it to survive."

Her black eyes locked upon me, stark in her gaunt face. Suddenly I was aware of a dangerous presence within her. A predator, its fangs bared. Or a monster, inhumane and lovely. Then it was gone, but I couldn't forget its presence. "Mortal men...." She snorted. "Always seeking to avoid their fate, no matter the cost. His son rides with you. Perhaps I will take his life as payment for his trespass here, and to send this king a message."

"No." I lurched forward, hand held out helplessly. "The prince doesn't— He's a better man than his father. I think if he had a choice in the matter then he would not be here."

"And what do you want?" she asked. "Would you kill the firebird for your king?"

The thought troubled me more than it should have. "The king... they say he's a ruthless man and it's not wise to naysay him when he wants something. He'd have my head."

Or burn me alive.

"I know another word for that."

So did I. Tyrant. "He burned three villages far to the west of here two years ago. They'd refused to pay their taxes, claiming they had no money to give him."

"If his men cannot find you, then they cannot harm you," she said. "The forest would welcome you. You have Old Blood flowing through your veins, and you know how to avoid the king's men."

Ha, nice try. "Become a witch, you mean?"

A smile. I was growing heartily sick of them.

"I don't have a choice. I have sisters. A father. They would force my father to guide them into the woods, and he's far too ill. I can't just run and hide and leave my family and friends to my fate."

The trees ended, and then we were standing in a glade, looking down upon the waterfall that had been both savior and peril. Silver light washed over the world, the moon pregnant and heavy in the sky, its reflection splayed upon the black waters of the pool we'd tumbled into. Water tumbled mercilessly over the falls, sending the reflection dancing in constant ripples.

"These are my woods," said Galina, turning her weathered face to the sky as if to soak up the light of the moon too. "I would like you to see them as they truly are."

"Thanks, but I think I took the extended tour today."

"You crossed the barrier," she murmured, "but you weren't paying attention. You're in the Heart of Gravenwold now."

Night-flowers began to gleam phosphorescent in the darkness, turning their silken faces up toward the sky. My breath caught. Little glittering fireflies danced from flower to flower. It was incredible, and nothing like the darkness of Gravenwold had led me to expect.

"These woods once stretched across the entire north," she said, continuing past the waterfall.

"Do you think we should keep going? There's a volgur out there somewhere."

"I know," she picked up her skirts, and continued on. "Who do you think sent it?"

She sent it? "At least two men died because of that thing. Maybe more."

"You didn't heed the warning," she replied. "You didn't even share the warning, did you? Their lives are on your hands."

My blood ran cold. "You put that skull there for us."

"No. The draugur did that," she said. "To mark their territory. You encroach upon it at your own risk. They guard the Heart. And they only give one warning. Continue on at your own risk, Neva."

Draugur. I shivered. Monsters made from trees, and twisted with animal flesh.

"I unleashed the volgur to drive your men friends out. They should not be here."

"Why? What are you hiding here?"

"I will show you."

We picked our way through the forest, our steps blurring with each stride, as if we covered more than a yard.

"There was an empire to the north of us once," she murmured, moving through the trees at an unhurried pace.

"The Empire of Velide," I said. "Darkness crept out of the woods and tore it apart."

"Darkness?" she looked at me sharply, then gave a rough-edged chuckle. "Is that what they teach in your world of men?"

I shut my mouth, stung a little. "Nobody knows what truly happened. It was centuries ago."

Galina summoned a ball of pure light into her hands, like an oversized soap bubble. "I know."

Then she blew upon it, and the bubble enveloped us, sending me blinking into a new world.

We stood in a place drenched in sunlight, though it all seemed somewhat hazy. A mountain of stone loomed in front of us, and there were strange runes carved into the stone. When I turned around, I could see the river in the distance, sunlight winking off it, and the waterfall a mere trickle of its current rage. It was miles away.

Heavy stone lintels leaned against each other, carved with a twisted language I'd never seen before. My heart skipped a beat. Ruins of the empire? I'd thought them further north. Before us stretched the canopies of thousands of young trees.

A chill ran down my spine. We were in the past. What sort of magic was this?

"Gravenwold is not just a forest, it's a prison," Galina explained. "Long ago, the ancient gods fought the Darkness and trapped it deep within the ground beneath Gravenwold. They planted a thousand trees, the roots of which twined around the Darkness, and kept it secure. As long as the Heart of the Forest stands—the original thousand trees—the Darkness cannot escape.

"And to protect the trees, they created five guardians in Gravenwold; the unicorn, pure of spirit; the dragon with its almighty strength; the white hart, whispering dreams of destiny; the courageous griffin; and the firebird, symbol of sacrifice and rebirth."

As she spoke, shadows swirled out of the mist. A unicorn formed, gleaming so brightly beneath the sunlight I could barely see her. An enormous jumble of boulders began to take a sinuous shape, an unblinking amber eye opening and locking upon me. The hart darted through the trees. And a shadow rippled over us, turning my eye to the sky where an enormous set of wings flapped lazily past.

"Men hunted the unicorn for her horn."

The vision changed. Suddenly the unicorn was galloping through the forest, pursued by men with nets and spears. Blood smeared her flanks, and finally, finally they dragged her down, trapping her beneath nets made from the hair of virgins. One man raised his bloody spear, and I flinched away from the scene, screwing my eyes tight as it plunged....

"The griffin guarded the north of the woods, and when the empire began to cut down its trees so they could build their roads and forts, he was forced to fight back. They killed him too."

I saw a thousand tree stumps stretching across the horizon, and a creature collapsed among them, brought down by a mighty ballista. The light slowly faded from those eagle eyes, and then it was still.

"But in killing him, they weakened the balance. There were only three remaining guardians in Gravenwold, and the trees... They began to chop their way into the Heart. Darkness crept out of its prison, like a vaporous mist. Not the full force of the evil we guard against, but enough to bring ruin to the empire.

"The Darkness is Death, Neva. It is death that whispers through the night, a long-buried shadow trapped by the magic upon Gravenwold, and released only when its shackles are compromised. If not for the courage of the trinity—Ermady, Rior and Vashta—there would be no world left to walk upon. They were of the Old Blood—the people who lived in the forest's shadow and served the Guardians. When they went to fight the Darkness, they turned to the Old Ways to protect them. Vashta painted the symbol of purity upon her forehead in the unicorn's blood; Ermady ate the heart of the griffin, so he would have its sight and courage; and Rior... Rior was given the dragon's shadow, so he would have it watching over him as he fought. Only the hart, the firebird, and the dragon remained, to guard the Heart.

"Together they rode north to the ruins of the empire, seeking the Darkness. They wounded it with spears cut from the branches of the Heart of the Forest, until it fled from them in fear. Wounded by battle, they drove it back to the forest. Rior fell, and where he lay, the dragon's shadow blighted the ground so no grass grows there. Crippled by the blow, the dragon turned to stone and you can hear the rumble of his growl beneath the earth at times, even now.

"Weakened by the loss of her lover, Vashta was driven to her knees. Forced to face the Darkness alone, Ermady was tricked by its illusions, and fell to despair. Only Vashta, with the purity of the unicorn's blood upon her forehead, was able to see through the Darkness's illusions. But she was weak, and she was injured, and she had lost her heart. The firebird found her and let her drink of its blood, so she would not feel her wounds. Knowing she was dying, Vashta made one last stand, and fought the Darkness back into its prison. And then she fell, right here where we stand, and the firebird wept over her body, grieving the loss of its fellow guardians, and the loss of three brave souls. And where those tears fell, water pooled, covering Vashta's body."

I released the breath I'd been holding, feeling the weight of the story on my shoulders. "The Well of Tears," I whispered, seeing it form before me, as though illusions had guarded it from my eyes. "It's real."

I sank to my knees beside the stone lip of the well, reaching for the shimmering waters—

"If you touch those waters, your choice is made," Galina's voice sounded like a whip crack.

I jerked my hand back. "Doesn't that suit your purpose?"

Then I'd be bound to serve her as a successor, whatever that meant.

"No. I would have you choose freely—or not at all. There are others who can bear my burden. Those with Vashta's blood in their veins... like the blood that flows through yours."

I looked up sharply.

"Her courage flows in you, Neva, gifted through your father's bloodline, which can be traced all the way back to the child Vashta left behind. Why do you think I spared his life? Only those of Vashta's line can guard Gravenwold, and I need someone to replace me when I'm gone. Someone who loves the forest as much as I do."

Vashta's blood flowed in my veins? I looked at my palms, slightly paler than my skin. All my life she'd been a myth. A legend. A saint of the forest.

"Unless you wish to drink," Galina whispered, filled her cupped hands with water and lifting it to my lips. "Drink to rouse the Old Blood in your veins, Neva. Be a hero. Fulfill your legacy."

Cheers echoed in my ears, and suddenly I could see the bloodied forest floor where Vashta fell. Men and women gathered to salute her, tears streaming down their faces as they turned her from a mere human who'd done what she had to, to a saint, revered and worshipped.

Alarms sounded, the same aching echo within me that had resisted the call of the White Hart. I didn't want to be a hero. No matter how much the thought of glory tempted me.

I shook my head. "I can't."

I didn't want to be a witch either.

Galina let the water run through her fingers. "Second test passed," she said softly. "This is a burden I ask of you. Not glory. When they kill the firebird, you must come here," she said. "Only the waters will save you. Promise me you will come here to pass your third test."

Kill? I started to my feet. "There's nothing to say we will find her."

"You will. She is old and weary, and sees her death coming for her."

"But she... she will be reborn, yes?" Every story I'd ever heard told of the firebird erupting into flames that would die down, only to reveal a chick within.

"She will be reborn," Galina said sadly, capturing my face in both hands. "You cannot stop them from killing her, but you must promise me one thing, Neva Bane."

I nodded shortly.

"Do not let them take the new firebird to the city. She must belong here, in Gravenwold. The White Hart has forgotten what it once was. The dragon is asleep. Only the firebird remains vigilant. She must protect the forest and the waters from those who would take them. Don't let them take the firebird. Don't let them take the waters. Immortality is not a gift men should own. Or a new Darkness will rise, a conqueror who will stop at nothing to destroy the world."

Bubbles rose within the Well of Tears as if something was surfacing beneath its calm waters. I couldn't tear my gaze away. "I won't let them take the firebird," I said softly. "I swear on Vashta's well I shall do all in my power to stop them."

"And when she rises, you will come here," she repeated. "To the waters and drink."

Lost in the mesmerizing swirl of water, something about that tugged at me as wrong. "I don't want to drink the waters. I just want to go home."

"Neva," someone called.

"The choice will be yours, of course," said her voice, far too close to my ear.

"Neva!"

I blinked awake, lying in the furs, my heart hammering like a trapped animal in my chest. Casimir leaned over me, his fingers curled around my shoulders. "It's all right, Neva," he murmured. "You're safe, you're safe. Nothing can harm you now."

Casimir knelt over me, his knees resting on either side of my hips. I sat up, grabbing the furs to my chest as I looked around. "Where is she?"

"Where is who?"

Just in time I caught my tongue. Just a dream. Or was it? I could feel the burning touch of her fingertips on my forearm, and didn't dare turn it over, just in case there were actual burns there.

Would you kill the firebird for your king?

Suddenly, the firebird was no longer a creature of myth and legend, but something real.

And now I knew why she'd been created. I had to stop Evaron's quest, before it was too late.