Our arrival back in Densby felt like stepping into another world. Villagers turned out in their droves—almost the entire village, breathless and searching for the prince among us.

"He's alive!" My neighbor Hatti cried, spotting Evaron's golden head in the middle of the tired riders.

Evaron gave them a weary wave, and a princely smile. The more I came to know him, the more I could see the role he played.

We’d lost almost ninety percent of the company, and most of the horses, but the prince was alive—the country’s precious, perfect Crown Prince. And he had to play the part they expected.

Only Cas and I were aware of how close we’d come to bringing home his corpse. We'd spent two days resting in the forest, simply allowing the prince to regain his strength.

The ride through the forest had been a great deal less exciting on the return. No brambles marked our path, and the trees no longer loomed. I could sense the forest’s watchfulness, though it didn’t seem to consider us intruders or enemies anymore. Gravenwold was a living entity, every tree somehow connected with the others, and it regarded the prince and his men as though it had formed some sort of wary truce with them.

Or maybe it was my presence among them that held it at bay.

I could feel the fire within me, and my sense of affinity with the forest had grown in ways I knew I hadn’t fully explored yet. It felt alive; it felt like it was mine.

But possession worked both ways.

I belonged to the forest too.

Even leaving its boundaries felt like someone had muffled my sight and hearing; as if a piece of me had vanished.

"Are you all right?" Cas murmured, glancing back over his shoulder.

I sat behind him on the horse, having lost the argument to walk. In hindsight, I wouldn’t have made it very far anyway. Whatever strength the Well of Tears had granted me for the fight with the Darkness, I’d long since succumbed to weariness.

"Tired," I admitted, slumping against his back in the borrowed shirt and breeches I wore. I’d woken up drooling on his shoulder barely an hour ago, and was too exhausted to care. It felt like too much had happened. Everything was moving too fast, and I didn’t know where my future lay.

I was home.

It didn’t feel real.

"Your sisters will be glad to see you."

And I them.

My arms tightened around his waist as he drew his horse to a halt. Cas’s breathing stilled, and his eyes hooded. If I looked up, just a touch, I could make out the soft outline of his mouth, and the harsh slant of his nose. How long had we been gone? Six days? Five?

Everything had changed.

"Your kingdom will be pleased to see its prince returned to court," I whispered.

For where Evaron went, so too did his Hound. My gaze caught on the collar around his throat. It wasn’t fair.

"You could come to court," Cas murmured, offering me his arm to help me dismount. "Evaron owes you a debt, and he dislikes having such things held over his head. He could name you Master—or Mistress—of the Hunt."

And what about him? "Cas—"

"He would pay well. You could feed your father and sisters. Keep a roof over their heads."

"I can’t." A shiver ran through me, translating through my arms. He felt it. Galina had warned of the price to pay for her gift. I hadn’t understood it then. "Even now I can feel the forest calling to me," I whispered. "I don’t think I can stay here, even in Densby. It itches too much. And I can’t— The Darkness—"

"I understand." His hand slid over mine, pressing lightly, and yet there were a thousand things left unspoken in that single touch. Then he offered me his arm again, to help me down from the back of his horse. "Your sisters have seen you."

What? I looked up, hearing my name echoing through the village green. Averill’s tight halo of spiraled curls came into view, along with their summer-kissed faces.

Averill and Eloya shoved their way through the crowd of villagers, skirts flapping around their legs. Ellie slammed into me as I hit the ground, nearly driving me off my feet, and then Avie was there... I was surrounded by a crush of warm bodies that smelled like home.

"Thank Vashta," Avie whispered. "I was so worried you weren’t going to return. There was so much smoke in the sky and we feared the worst."

Ellie drew back and punched me in the arm. "Father was so mad when he woke! You’re going to be in so much trouble."

Averill looked away from me.

"What?" I demanded. "What is it?"

"He was worried," she admitted. "He’s spent the past few days fretting, and his health took a turn for the worst."

I pushed away from the pair of them, turning for home and expecting the worst.

"Neva, wait!" Evaron called. "We’re to have a feast for our return. You’re to be the guest of honor!"

But I shoved the door to my home open, and rushed to find my father.

* * *

"Here, father," I whispered, helping him to sit up, and tipping the flask of water to his lips. I'd filled it at the Well of Tears, and the water was almost luminescent as I tipped it from my steel water flask.

"What... is it?"

"It will make you well again." I knew my father. There was no man more pure of spirit than he. All he lived for was the hunt, and for his daughters.

The water from the Well of Tears gleamed on his lips as he swallowed, and then he gave a startled cough, spraying some of it across the room. His chest heaved, and for a second I thought I'd killed him.

Then his spine arched and he bowed off the bed, his eyes wide and staring.

"Neva!" Averill exclaimed, her face pale.

"What have you done?" Ellie asked.

"Wait for it…"

The same silver lines appeared beneath his skin, but at least this time I knew to expect them. Father hacked and coughed, until finally he collapsed back on the bed, gasping for breath. The ominous rattle in his chest was gone. So too his pallid color. Blood rushed through his cheeks, revealing the gaunt hollows of his face.

Averill sucked in a sharp gasp as he reached for my hand.

"What… what did you do to me?" he whispered.

I helped him to sit up, flinging my arms around him. "I only did what you told me to do, papa. I followed the Old Ways. All of them. You’re healed now."

"Healed?" Ellie whispered, sinking onto the bed and wrapping her arms around them both. "How? What did you do? Is this medicine? Is it—"

"It’s a secret," I said fiercely, meeting her gaze and then looking past her to Averill. "One the king would kill to get his hands upon."

Averill gave a short, sharp nod, and I knew despite her cool expression she was simply overwhelmed right now. I held a hand out to her, and she came and sank onto the floor at my feet, squeezing my hand.

"We won’t say a word," Ellie whispered.

"Is it magic?" Averill finally asked.

I nodded.

"There is always a price to pay for magic," she pointed out.

"And I will pay it," I whispered, earning a start from my father. "No. It’s not a bad price, father. It just means… My life will change. I have a new home now. The forest needs me, and I will be nearby."

I could see they didn’t understand. With a sigh, I rested my chin on my father’s head and told them everything.