We make it back to the sacred grounds without mishap. When the priestesses ask where we were, we tell them we spent the night on the riverbank, basking in the power of Mother's storm. As long as we stay within faerie lands, we won't get in trouble—not real trouble, at least. Priestess Sytrene tells us to run along and eat breakfast, that today's lessons will be long ones.

They are.

In the morning, the priestesses pester us with games of riddles. If we saw a fox chasing a rabbit, who would we want to win—the predator or the prey? If a tree falls, do we bring it back to life or let it rot on the forest floor? How far should we let a wildfire spread before we fight to contain the damage? If we find an animal starving in the vacant deserts to the west, do we save it or let it die? All of life is a careful balancing act, they tell us. Take the first example. The fox might need to eat or it will starve, but the rabbit may have a den of kits depending on it to provide food. If too many rabbits die, plant pollination might be affected. If too many foxes die, rabbits might infest the forest. Nothing is good or bad—everything exists in accordance with one another. And we, as faeries, must remember that every time we use our magic. Our job is to maintain the balance, nothing more and nothing less.

I want to ask where humans fit into this equation. If nothing is good or bad, why do we ignore them and label them as evil? Are they not of this world? Are we so different?

I don't.

I bite my tongue and do my best to pay attention as the sun arcs overhead. By midafternoon, we're working in the gardens, pulling carrots from the soil, plucking tomatoes from their vines, picking apples from a tree, then growing more in their stead. I'm so tired that by the time night comes, I fall into an exhausted sleep. In my dreams, I'm back in the cave with Erick, stuck in that moment where we were surrounded by all the wonder of my magic, yet he only had eyes for me, as though out of everything he'd seen, I was the most majestic.

Nymia pinches me awake at first light.

I sigh and meet her gaze.

Simple as that, her eyes dim. She knows what's on my mind, but she won't release me from my promise, not yet, not when she thinks it's for my safety.

We don't speak during our morning lessons spent practicing the art of bending nature to our will. All the girls-in-training have natural elemental magic given by the Mother, but that's only a small blip of what we're capable of with the right tutelage. Before the priestesses will trust us with the ancient words, we must learn the art of shaping the world. My earthen magic allows me to grow a vine from the soil, but it's something else entirely to pluck a leaf from the stalk and turn it into a bird. There was a strange malady the year before that nearly destroyed an entire species of deer. The priestesses took us with them when they traveled across the seas to grow a new population to replace what was lost. That's the true power Mother gave us—the power to give life. So far, the most Nymia and I know how to do is extend the size of the leaves, like with the boats we make, or twist petals into gowns for our clothes. Just when I think I'm this close to transforming a wheat stalk into a feather, the lesson ends.

That afternoon, Nymia and I lie back with our feet in the river, letting the water cool us even as the heat of Mother's sun scorches our skin.

"You know he's going to grow old, right?" she says suddenly. It's the first we've spoken all day. I let my head drop to the side as I meet her imploring gaze. "We won't even be initiated as full-fledged priestesses for another hundred years. By the time he's dead, we'll still be considered children."

"I know," I mutter, looking back to the sky.

"His people would never accept you. They'd try to use you, to hurt you."

"I know."

"The faeries will never accept him."

"I know."

"Whatever this is, it wouldn't last."

"I know."

Does that mean it's not worthwhile? A flower only blooms for one season, but in that short amount of time, it seeds the way for new life. Why should this be any different? Just because something won't last forever doesn't mean it shouldn't exist at all.

Nymia sighs, as though she can hear my thoughts. "You know all that, but you still wish to see him again?"

I don't answer.

I don't need to.

The silence extends—it's the first impassable divide to come between us. Nymia won't release me from my promise. I won't stop hoping she will.

My sister rolls to her feet. I listen to the soft swish of her skirts against the grass as she walks away, but keep my gaze on the sky. With each minute closer to sunset, the shade darkens, reminding me more and more of Erick's sapphire eyes. No one comes to get me for dinner, so I stay there as the moon rises, noticing the convex curve.

Every evening for the next few days, I trace the edge of that silver orb, aware my time is running out as it grows a little larger with each passing dawn. Nymia and I aren't speaking. The other girls have noticed and they make comments under their breath, but I can't bring myself to confront them. I don't have the energy to battle it out. I hardly have the energy for magic. My mood is as dark as the shadows that creep through the forest at night. I can't bring myself to care about anything except the countdown burning in the back of my mind.

We've taken to sleeping on opposite sides of the meadow.

Nymia stays with the other girls, close to the sacred flames, because she knows I won't risk speaking if there's a chance we'll be overhead. I stay in the outskirts, staring into the forest as though it might somehow contain the answers I need.

On the night of the full moon, I corner my sister before she goes to sleep. The other girls slide their gazes our way, taking careful glances, whispering quietly to each other. I won't cause a scene. I don't have the energy for it.

Instead, I sit beside Nymia and hug my legs to my chest, copying her. With my cheek resting against my knee, I stare at her, silently begging until she finally turns to meet my gaze. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears.

"Nymia," I plead.

She swallows, but doesn't speak.

"Nymia, please."

A droplet leaks down the side of her face. Normally, I'd try to wipe it away, but my arms are still. Hers aren't. She releases her clasped hands, straightens her legs, and rolls over, lying down on the grass with her back to me. The whispers behind us rise an octave.

Without another word, I leave.

The woods hold no answers for me, yet I find myself back at the edge, sitting on the divide, staring into their depths. I've never broken a promise made to Nymia, and I don't want to start now. But I can't stop picturing Erick's face as he stands inside the cave, waiting for a girl who will never come, hopeful, then worried, then pained. I'm torn.

A scream pulls me from the trance.

Nymia!

I'd know that sound anywhere.

It comes again, a terrified wail, and I'm on my feet, sprinting toward her. When I arrive, Nymia thrashes against the ground, flattening the grass around her while she sleeps. Her hair spreads in strangled knots around her face. A fine layer of sweat covers her arms. The water on her cheeks catches the moonlight.

No one woke her.

No one stopped the nightmare.

Normally, I do. But I wasn't here.

The other girls sit around and giggle softly at her bizarre behavior. They quiet when I appear, looking at me and wondering what I'll do. The detached curiosity in their eyes enrages me. Without thinking, I draw the drew drops from the field and turn them into tiny frozen pellets to match the ice in my veins. Then I send them racing on the wind. The girls yelp as my attack stings their skin, but it's no worse than they deserve.

A deep-throated moan draws me back.

"Nymia!" I call and drop to my knees beside her. "Nymia."

It's hard to call her from the depths when she's like this. I press my hands to her chest and force my magic into her skin, trying to calm the raging storm inside her heart, trying to quiet her mind. The horror she feels floods into me, making my chest burn. I grit my teeth and take it in, anything to ease her fear. A vision flashes across my mind—the last vestiges of her nightmare. Ebony sludge taints a vast sea. The surface sheens with a rainbow residue. Birds sink into the abyss, unable to fly away, and fish choke on the poison clogging their gills. I've seen this dream of hers many times before. We call it the black death.

I blink the pictures away.

"Nymia!"

Her eyes pop open and she gasps, thrusting to a seated position. I rub her back as she draws in ragged breaths, her pulse running rapid beneath my palm.

"It's okay," I soothe. "I'm here."

Her arms come around me as she buries her head against my chest, crying softly, still caught in the panic and doom. I hug her back, running my fingers through her hair as I glare over her shoulder at the girls still brave enough to cast a peek. After a few minutes, she finally sniffles loudly, a sure sign she's returned to the world. Her eyes still glisten as she pulls back and meets my gaze.

"You came?" There's shock in her voice.

"Of course I came." How could she doubt? "I'll always come, no matter what."

"I thought…" She trails off and lifts her face to the sky, looking at the moon. When she turns back to me, the silver glow reflects in her irises. "I thought you'd be gone by now. I thought you'd be with, well, you know."

"I won't lie, I thought about it." We both laugh softly, even though it's not funny. But the tension between us releases, gone as swiftly as it came. I take her fingers and squeeze them. "But I'd never break my promise. Never."

She sighs.

I sigh.

We keep holding hands.

"I was trying to protect you," Nymia whispers. She glances behind me, no doubt noticing the other girls, then darts her gaze back to mine. "The way you're always protecting me."

"I know, but—"

"This isn't the way," she interrupts, and I let out a relieved exhale. "I don't want to be the source of your pain, Aerewyn. I want to take it away. I want to support you, the way you always support me, but this is different. It's something I can't understand."

"I'm not sure I understand it either."

"Can you explain it to me?"

"I don't know."

"Can you try?"

"It's not just another adventure, Nymia," I murmur, lowering my voice so only she can hear. "It's not about the danger, or the excitement, or the thrill. I thought it was, at first, but it's not. It's something more. I don't know what. All I know is that when he looked at me in that cave, I felt seen in a way I never have before. I felt alive. Like maybe all this time I've spent running through the forests at night, I've been searching for the answer to a question I still don't understand. But with his help, I might."

Nymia blinks and looks to the ground. Shadows shroud her eyes, stealing all the starlight. I'm not sure if my words eased her fears or increased them, but when she lifts her face back up, it's hardened by resigned resolve.

"Okay."

My spirit sings. "Okay?"

"Okay," she repeats with a shake of her head, as though her heart and her mind haven't quite aligned. "The night's half over. We'll need to be quick."

"We?"

A wry smile curves her lips. "You didn't really think I'd let you do this alone, did you?"

Yes?

Maybe?

I shouldn't have doubted. We're there for each other—always. And nothing in the world will ever change that.

As one, we jump to our feet. I feel stares as we race away, but I don't care. Let them watch. Let them whisper. I have my sister. I have the forest. I have a boy with curious eyes and a warm smile waiting for me.

Right now, I have everything I need.