I didn't look up. I couldn't. The weight of the situation was crushing the air out of me. "Why can't I leave?" I sobbed into my palms. "What is this place?"

  "Someone or something willed you to be here," Aemon’s voice was gentle. "The woods want you to stay, so it seems you are going to stay a bit longer."

  "What's going to happen to me?" I asked, my voice cracking and small.

  "You'll come with us," Aemon said. He sounded so certain, so reasonable, that for a moment I almost didn't feel scared. "It's safer if you aren't alone."

  I looked over at Caius. He was watching me with a strange, frowning intensity. He nodded slowly, confirming Aemon’s words.

  "Where?" I wiped my eyes with the back of a bruised hand. "Where will you take me?"

  "The Wherewald," Aemon replied. "Our home."

  The word home didn't feel right. But as I looked at the dark, shifting shadows of the forest behind me, the forest that wouldn't let me go, I realised I had no real choice in the matter. "Fine," I whispered. "I'll go with you."

  I climbed to my feet, feeling sore and defeated. Both men stepped closer. Aemon offered me his hand, his palm up, his smile warm and inviting. Caius simply offered his arm, standing with a relaxed, casual air.

  "You aren't safe here," Aemon warned.

  "He's not lying," Caius added. "There are things in this world that you wouldn't want taking notice of you."

  I hesitated, then reached out and took Aemon’s hand. His skin was warm, and his grip was firm but incredibly gentle. The moment my fingers closed around his, the forest seemed less threatening. A path revealed itself, the underbrush melting away to create a walkway of soft grass and flowers.

  We walked in silence. Aemon led the way, always half a step ahead of me, as if shielding me from threats unseen. I could feel Caius trailing behind us, a silent, watchful shadow.

  I lost track of time. The light in the forest didn't seem to follow the rules of the sun. It stayed a permanent, eerie twilight. Eventually, we came to a towering stone archway. It looked like it had been grown rather than built, made of intertwining vines, stone-hard branches, and long, wicked thorns.

  Faint voices and laughter drifted through the arch, from beyond. It sounded joyful, but there was a dull edge to the merriment that made my heart prickle.

  Aemon stopped and turned to me, his expression grim. "Keep to yourself once we're inside the Wherewald," he whispered. "Don't look directly at anyone."

  "Don't speak to anyone," Caius added, stepping up beside us.

  "And don't trust anyone," Aemon finished.

  "Except myself?" I asked, a bit of my rebellion returning through the fear, leaning into the cliche.

  Caius shrugged. "Other than yourself, of course."

  "And us," Aemon added firmly.

  My rebellious wit did not last.

  "I'm scared," I said suddenly. It was the first time I’d admitted it out loud, and the sound of it made it more real.

  "That's perfectly normal, lost one," Caius said. His voice was surprisingly soft. "But we'll be with you."

  I nodded, and we passed through the arch.

  The transformation was instant. The laughter and conversation died as if a switch had been flipped. The silence that followed was deafening, a physical weight that pressed down on me.

  We were in a city made of living trees and ancient stone, lit by a soft, shimmering glow. But it wasn't the architecture that worried me. It was the people.

  Dozens of them, men and women, all turned as one to face me. Every single one of them was breathtakingly beautiful. They looked– perfect. But their eyes... their eyes were hungry. They watched me with a mix of curiosity and a terrifying, predatory interest.

  "Oh?"

  A woman stepped forward. The crowd parted for her with a reverence that spoke of her power. She was magnificent, her hair like spun moonlight and her dress woven from the wings of moths.

  "Caius, Aemon," she said, her voice chiming with an eerie melody. "What unthing have you brought us today?"

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  The group closed in around us, leaving the four of us in a small, tense circle. Aemon immediately stepped in front of me, his frame blocking most of my view of the woman.

  "She is no one, Morgana," Aemon said. His voice was steady, but I could feel the tension radiating off him.

  Morgana smiled. It was a beautiful smile, and it was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. "Your protectiveness gives me the impression that it is indeed someone."

  Caius sauntered forward, breaking the formation. "She can speak for herself."

  Aemon shot Caius a look. I swallowed, feeling the weight of Morgana's gaze even through Aemon’s back.

  "Step aside, Aemon," Morgana commanded. "Let me have a look at your 'no one'."

  Aemon didn't move for a heartbeat, but then, slowly, reluctantly, he stepped to the side.

  I felt naked under her scrutiny. I lowered my head, staring at my dirty sneakers, refusing to meet her eyes. I focused on the hem of my shirt, my fingers fiddling with the fabric. I didn't say a word. I didn't dare.

  "Mmm," Morgana hummed. Her voice came from all around me. "Apparently, it deems itself too important to speak?"

  Aemon stepped forward again, his hands open in a gesture of supplication. "Of course not, my lady. She is simply overwhelmed and afraid."

  Morgana tilted her head, studying Aemon in silence.

  "Very well," she said finally. "You two may keep your new pet. For now."

  I felt the tension leak out of Aemon and Caius at the same time.

  "But you know the ancient ways," Morgana continued. "You know what needs to be done." She looked me up and down one last time, her smile widening into something cold. "It is... most unimpressive. I wonder what you see in it."

  I felt as if an invisible hand was closing around my throat.

  "I'm sure the lost one will prove entertaining," Caius said, his voice regaining its arrogant edge. "I'm already entertained."

  "Thank you for your generosity, my lady," Aemon said quickly. "We will be taking our leave now."

  "Aemon, Caius," Morgana’s voice stopped them in their tracks. "It does not belong here amongst the Consistory. Figure it out amongst yourselves, but it must be claimed. How you resolve this is no concern of mine."

  She turned her back dismissively, and as she moved away, the conversation in the clearing started again. I didn't need to hear their words to know they were talking about me.

  "We need to get out of here," Aemon whispered. "Quickly."

  Caius gripped my hand, not gently, and gave me a tug. "Come on, lost one. Before one of them decides to take a keener interest."

  I looked back over my shoulder as they dragged me away. The beautiful people were still speaking in hushed voices and staring.

  They led me deeper into the Wherewald, away from the shimmering centre and toward a building made of smooth, moss-covered stone. Here, they shoved me into a small room.

  "Do not open any doors," Aemon warned, his face a grim mask. "I'll return soon."

  "And try not to disappear," Caius added. "It would greatly complicate things. For you, I mean."

  Aemon followed Caius out, and the door slammed shut. I heard the unmistakable clack of a lock turning.

  I was alone.

  The room was filled with soft rugs and piles of silk pillows. It was a lounge, a place of comfort, but I did not feel comforted. I collapsed onto the pillows, pulling them around me as if building a pillow fort.

  Then, the whispers started.

  They weren't coming from the door or the window. They were coming from the walls, from the floor, from the very shadows. Soft, melodic voices speaking a language that sounded like water over stones. It sounded like they were laughing at me.

  I pressed a pillow over my ears and curled into a ball.

  Claimed, Morgana had said. It must be claimed.

  I closed my eyes and waited for the morning, or for the nightmare to finally end.