Peter and I sat at the edge of the swimming hole, dipping our bare toes into the cool bluish-green water while the hound dog snoozed in the shade. I was glad the hound was finally warming up to me a little, because whether Peter realized it or not, he had himself a dog now.

The music of the forest was a welcome change from the heated debates no doubt going on at town hall right about then. I closed my eyes to better hear the bees buzzing and the water lapping lazily against the rocks on the shoreline. When I caught the distinctly beautiful and haunting song of a nightingale, I sighed to myself. It was so nice to have them back in our part of the woods. I’d missed them all winter.

Suddenly, I recalled some of Knubbin’s words: Some say the truth rings as clear and sweet as a nightingale’s song. Maybe the wizard wasn’t loony. Perhaps it was a riddle he meant for me to figure out, one that would help me find Lake Nostos. After all, didn’t he say something about me having a lot to do before the birds migrate for the winter as I was leaving his—or whoever’s it was—cabin yesterday? And in the age-old fairy tale about Lake Nostos, didn’t the king tell his queen that he listened to the nightingales sing as he washed his face and hands in the cool waters of the spring?

“I should probably be getting back,” Peter said—words that I was not happy to hear, even though I knew he was right. He grabbed our stockings and shoes from behind us, placing them within easy reach. “I’d rather stay here with you, but the meeting for the hunters will be starting any moment now. My father will wonder where I am.”

“Are you afraid for tonight?” I asked once I’d tugged on my boots.

He scratched behind his ear. “Not afraid, really. Just a bit nervous. I really hope one of us kills whatever it was that killed Amos Slade. I’d love to slay the wolves and free our village from their reign of terror, once and for all.”

My gut roiled at the thought of Peter facing the monster. If a wolf sunk its deadly teeth and claws into my love, I might as well throw myself into the thick of Wolfstime without my cloak.

“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of being in the hunting party,” I said.

“Not a chance,” he replied, just as I knew he would.

I scrambled to my feet and walked over to the tree on which I’d hung my cloak, bow, and quiver. He met me under the bough, and I handed him the silver-tipped arrow he’d made me. “Will you take this, this time? It would make me feel a lot better.” I gave him what I hoped looked like a reassuring smile.

As he took the arrow, his fingers dragged from my wrist to my fingertips. The sensation took me by surprise, and it gave me a crop of goose bumps.

“Only if you take this,” he said. He reached into his pocket and nonchalantly pulled out a gold cross necklace.

My jaw dropped in utter disbelief.

It was my gold cross necklace, the one that had been my mother’s once upon a time. The one on which the wizard had put a spell, so that my mother could understand her Wolfstime dreams and, in time, realize her true self. The one I’d given to Hershel Worthington to pay off Granny’s debt so we wouldn’t lose the cottage.

“Peter…” I breathed.

“Turn around, and I’ll put it on for you.”

As I turned, my head kept spinning. “But…how?”

“Good ole Uncle Jenkins might be nothing more than a two-bit bandit, but he taught me a thing or two about pickpocketing.”

Something fluttered within my belly. “Looks like we’re both thieves. I can’t believe you stole for me,” I said, beaming at him.

“You’d better believe it. And hopefully, this time, you won’t lose it or give it away. It’s becoming a full-time job, just keeping it on you.”

While Peter fastened the necklace around my neck, I caressed the smooth, familiar gold and smiled—until a terrible thought crossed my mind. “Oh, Peter! Mr. Worthington is going to give it to his wife. When he discovers it’s missing, what if he comes after Granny again?”

“Ah, but I already thought of that. You see, I made you a cross pendant out of some scrap metal last night, before I went out with the hunting party. I knew how much the pendant meant to you, Red, and I knew that nothing, especially a replica made of copper, would truly be able to replace it. Still, I thought you might like to have something at least to remember it by. I meant to give it to you this morning, that’s why I was headed to your house. But then, on my way, I heard you scream, and then there was Amos…”

“I know. So terrible,” I said, trying to shake the tragic scene from my memory.

“Then, at the town hall, when I saw the tax man waving your mother’s gold cross in front of your nose, something in me snapped. I knew I had to steal it from the bastard. I hated that he had something that’s so special to you. I didn’t know for sure if I could manage the whole switcheroo, but I figured I’d have the best shot while he was busy dodging rotten vegetables.”

“Wait, you made me a cross pendant?” I asked, my heart melting as I turned back around and our eyes met.

“Sure did! A really good one, too. All it took was a bit of smithy magic. I’ll be amazed if the tax man ever realizes it’s not real gold. But if he does, we’ll just have to figure something else out. Don’t worry, Red. I won’t let the tax man take your house.”

“I can’t believe you did all of that for me. You have a big heart, Peter.”

He chuckled. “Well, if I’m being completely honest with you—part of the reason I did it was purely selfish.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“I hoped my valiant—though arguably unlawful—act might earn me a kiss from the fairest maiden in the land.” With a hint of a smile, he placed his hands on both sides of my head. Closing my eyes, I felt the warm sunlight on my face and the breeze in my hair. He placed a kiss on my forehead and another on my nose. Though they were light as feathers, the kisses he trailed over my skin had an amazing way of stirring the very blood within my veins. When his lips moved to my cheek and then to the spot where my ear touched my neck, it felt oh, so wonderful—and yet, it made me greedy for more.

I inclined my head, my lips positively tingling in anticipation. When nothing happened right away, I peeked. Somehow, the way he was unabashedly staring at me with his beautiful brown eyes made me melt.

What if, when I tell him about the quest, he just laughs at me? What if he says he cannot come? Being apart from him would be unbearable.

“Here, sit down,” Peter said. He sat on the log and patted the space beside him.

“But you have to go to the meeting, Peter.”

“I know you want to tell me something. You look like you’re about to explode. Why don’t you just tell me, and then we’ll head back to town.”

I wedged my hands between my knees, hoping to keep my legs from jittering so badly. “Remember when I told you I wanted to leave this village—that I wanted to go far, far away?”

Nodding, he said, “Of course I do. We’ll go together, you and me.” The dog gave a yelp, and Peter patted his head. “And we’ll bring this bag of fleas, too, I guess.”

I took a deep breath and blurted, “Granny has a very painful scar on her arm. I think I might have discovered something that can bring her relief.”

“That’s great, Red. What is it?”

“A drop of water from Lake Nostos.”

He whispered, “Lake Nostos,” to himself and then said, “I think I’ve heard of it, but I can’t put my finger on it…”

“It’s from the fairy tale about the washerwoman who was cursed to live in the water. Granny read it to us when we were children.”

“Ah, that’s right. A magical lake from a fairy tale.” He arched his right eyebrow, and I could tell he was hoping I was only joking.

“I know it sounds crazy, and it probably is—all right, it definitely is—but I want to see if I can find it,” I said. “It will be my quest.”

“And I suppose you want me to come with you on this quest?”

“Well, I was going to ask if I could borrow your horse. But you can come, too, if it makes you happy,” I said with a little laugh. I scooted closer to him so that our legs touched.

“I already told you, walking around the Enchanted Forest with you is one of my favorite pastimes. So, when do we leave?”

“The sooner the better,” I said. If the nightingales’ song would help me find Lake Nostos, I needed to go before they migrated for the winter. Plus, there were, what, twenty-four days until the next Wolfstime, and it was always safest to travel when the wolves weren’t hunting. I already had the money I’d saved, since Knubbin had returned it to me. “How about tomorrow night?”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “But Red, I can’t leave the village. Not now. I have to help the hunters take down the wolves, and I have to help my father with the blacksmithing. They’re counting on me. And people are counting on you, too. You have to help your grandmother with her deliveries. And who is going to put Violet in her place, if not you?”

I had to grin at his comment about Violet. And overall, his point was valid. However, if I didn’t go in search of the final ingredient for the magic salve, no one would. Granny didn’t know it, but she was counting on me. “I just want to help my granny,” I said softly. “She’s done so much for me, more than you know.”

“You’ve done so much for her, as well. You saved her cottage from being seized by the king, and that’s no small feat. I’m certain your granny is very grateful and very proud of you.”

His words made my breath hitch. I hoped that Granny felt that way.

“What’s the harm in waiting just a little longer, Red? Not forever, but just until things are better here in our village.” He took my chin in his hand. “Don’t go without me. Promise you’ll wait for me.”

Peter pulled me close and kissed me. He kissed me hungrily, and as our kiss deepened, I clenched the fabric of his sleeves, holding on for dear life with both hands. I straightened my posture, wanting even more of him, but he abruptly pulled away. His eyes flashed dangerously. “Promise me,” he said again.

Once I could breathe again, I said, “All right, Peter. I’ll wait.”

“Good. I can only hope that I get to play a part in your happy ending, Red.”

“Really?” I asked, wiping my tears. “I mean, I had a feeling…I really hoped it was true, I just…”

“Of course I do.” He whirled around and kicked a rock so high and hard that it landed near the opposite shore of the pond. The dog snuffled and perked his ears, but he apparently didn’t notice anything amiss, because he flopped back down and closed his eyes. “You’re smart, beautiful, funny, and passionate—and you’re the most skilled archer I know.”

My heart fluttered in an unfamiliar way, and I was at once overjoyed and nervous. “My granny is a much better shot than I am.”

Peter shook his head and grinned. “That is not the point, Red.” He closed the small distance between us and placed his hands on my shoulders. “What I’m trying to tell you—though you’re making it awfully difficult for me—is that I love you.”

I opened my mouth—in surprise rather than to say anything—but he pressed a finger against my lips and said, “Let me finish. I love that you’re the second best archer I know. I love that you made me a birthday cake. Although, for my eighteenth birthday, you’d better bake me one that I actually get to eat. I love the wildness in your eyes and the kindness in your heart.” He moved his finger from my lips to my hair, brushing a piece of it off my face. “I love that when you get something on your mind, the world had better watch out.”

“Right now, you’re the only one who needs to watch out,” I said. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and pressed my lips against his.

“And I love the way you kiss me—” he murmured once we came up for air.

“Shhhhh,” I said, and then kissed him all over again.

I felt like I was in a dream—but not a Wolfstime dream. In this one, everything around me seemed enhanced. As the sun set, the sky, the trees, and the flowers were extra vibrant, like a rainbow had fallen out of the sky and spilled over everything in the land. The ground felt springier and the sounds of nature more musical. Even in my bedroom, in the soft glow of my sconces and bedside candlesticks, the same old furnishings and decorations seemed extra beautiful.

I pressed my fingers to my lips, amazed how they still tingled. With a little help from my imagination, I could still feel all of the places Peter had set my bare skin on fire with his magical touch. He’d had to run from the swimming hole to town as fast as he could, and though he was a swift runner, there was no way he would’ve made it on time. I blushed a little as I wondered if the other hunters would be able to see our tryst written on his face.

I felt so different. Did I look different?

As I sat on the foot of my bed in my nightgown, brushing the tangles and a few small leaves out of my hair, I examined my reflection in the looking glass. My cheeks and lips had taken on a lovely shade of pink. Despite the tears I’d cried—or maybe because of them—my eyes were their brightest green. And, to answer my own question, I smiled at the glowing girl in my mirror and said, “Yes, you most definitely look different.”

Moments later, my eye caught the reflection of the golden cross that dangled from my neck. It felt good to have it back where it belonged. Yet, on second thought, I hesitated to wear it on this last night of Wolfstime, for fear of it being the darkest nightmare I’d ever had. Why suffer through another frightful, fitful dream when I could possibly have a nice one? I unclasped the chain and let it slither into my open palm.

Then again, my mother hadn’t seemed afraid of her Wolfstime dreams. She’d had Knubbin enchant the cross so that her Wolfstime dreams would expose her truest self. If she wasn’t afraid, why was I?

As clearly as if someone were whispering them into my ear, I heard the words that I’d heard in my dreams: “Only when you refuse to be a victim of fear will you know your true power.”