Chapter Fourteen

Jaren wasn’t sure why Lupin decided to confide in him about her life on Endla, but he was grateful that someone was willing to talk about it. Someone who knew the truth, not a bunch of silly stories.

They strolled around the market once, with Lupin pointing out the best vendors of various items and who to be wary of. “Never buy from him,” she said, gesturing to a man peddling what looked like ordinary copper pots and pans. “He’s a crook. And a smelly one.” Eventually she continued past the very last stall and guided Jaren into the forest.

“Don’t you need to help your parents?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the market and making eye contact with Story for just long enough to see the look of amusement on her face before they disappeared behind a veil of trees.

Lupin strode confidently into the forest without looking back. Jaren had the impression she rarely did. “They’ll be all right. To be honest, I needed a break. You’re not the only person in Bricklebury to look at me funny, Jaren Kask.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

The corner of her mouth raised in a grin. “It’s all right. I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been staring at you, too.” She glanced at Jaren and barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Don’t tell me the girls didn’t like you back in... Where did you say you were from?”

He was grateful for the change in subject, though the truth was, he had never paid much attention to girls back home. He had been too busy helping his family to go to school, let alone to court anyone. “I’m from Tindervale.”

“Ah, a city boy. No wonder you’re so out of your element here. Us mountain folk are known for our strange ways.”

Jaren studied Lupin from the corner of his eye. She had long, glossy hair the same color as the honey she sold, and her green eyes twinkled with what appeared to be good humor. But there was something about her sharp nose and high laugh that made her seem more than a little impish, like a woodland elf bent on mischief.

Not that he believed in elves.

They had come to the fork in the forest trail that led to other towns and eventually cities in one direction and deeper into the wood toward Lake Luma in the other. Lupin paused, as if she was waiting for Jaren to decide their direction.

He meant to choose the fork leading away from Endla. He already knew where the other fork led, and he had no desire to go back there. But somehow his feet decided otherwise. Lupin didn’t argue, just continued to watch him from beneath her lashes.

“So, what did you want to know about Endla?” she asked after a few minutes. “Or were you just hoping to spend time alone with a pretty girl?”

At that, Jaren dropped Lupin’s arm and took a sidestep away from her. “No, I’m sorry. I hope that’s not the impression I gave. I would never presume...”

She had a high, tinkling laugh that he imagined some people would find charming, but the sound made him uneasy. “I enjoy making you blush,” Lupin said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite.” She reached for his arm again and he gave it reluctantly, wondering why he wasn’t enjoying spending time with an attractive girl as much as he suspected he should.

“Go on, then,” she said. “Ask me your questions about Endla.”

Jaren resumed walking. “I suppose I was just wondering why you were sent away,” he said, hoping he wasn’t being rude. “Lars made it sound like you were forced to leave your family.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t you hear, city boy? I’m incantu. Without magic. Endlans send us all away before we reach our teen years.”

“So it’s true? There really is magic?” Jaren was grateful there was no one around to hear him. If he’d said something that asinine in Tindervale, he’d have been laughed out of town.

“You city folk and your skepticism. Of course there’s magic.”

Jaren didn’t doubt that Lupin believed what she was saying, but he had direct proof that Endlan “magic” hadn’t worked the way everyone said it did. “I heard the singing myself.”

Lupin stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “What?”

He nodded. “Twice now.” He thought of the night he’d camped by the lake and the strange music that had been stuck in his head after. “Three times, maybe.”

She glanced around at the trees, as if she was listening for something. “And you didn’t feel the urge to cross the lake?”

“No,” he said. “Far from it.”

“Interesting.” She started walking again, but Jaren could feel the tension in her body. “I suppose it’s possible that you didn’t hear the right songs. Or you were too far away for the magic to work. Or perhaps your skepticism protected you somehow. Either way, you were lucky, Jaren Kask.”

He knew the lake was poisonous. After seeing what happened to the bird and the rose, that couldn’t be denied. But he didn’t feel as though it were luck or skepticism keeping him safe. Certainly the songs had gotten in his head. They hadaffected him. Just not the way he’d imagined.

“How does an Endlan know if they have magic or not?”

“If their voices hold no power by their twelfth birthday, then they are incantu. And anyone without magic on Endla is vulnerable.”

“To what?”

“To the Forest, of course.”

Now Jaren was the one to stop. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you heard of the Wandering Forest?” She clucked her tongue, but she was smiling again. “You silly, pretty thing. So much to learn.”

He wasn’t sure he liked being called silly or pretty, but he was curious despite himself. “What exactly is a Wandering Forest?”

“It’s what it sounds like. A wooded area that appears where it wants, when it wants. In the old days, a traveler who happened upon one would likely never find it again, no matter how many times they returned to the spot.”

“And what would they find there?”

“An ordinary forest. One that doesn’t interfere in the natural order of things. A normal forest is a neutral party in the affairs of its inhabitants. It stands impassively by while life and death play out the way they always have. But not a Wandering Forest. Or at least, not this one. It is a bloodthirsty thing, killing so many of its own creatures that it needs the Endlans’ songs to draw in more and their sacrifices to sate it.”

Jaren shuddered. “And the Endlans? What do they get in return?”

“Ask any Endlan, and they’ll tell you the Wandering Forest is there to protect them. As long as they sing, as long as they lure in prey and make their offerings, the Forest is happy enough.”

“Happy?” Jaren asked, trying to sound genuinely interested and not condescending. “I don’t understand.”

Lupin tapped him playfully on the nose. “You don’t have to. The Forest doesn’t rely on the likes of you. It lives in a kind of symbiosis with the Endlans, and as long as no one disturbs the order of things, it works out well enough.” A shadow passed over her face. “Except for the incantu, of course.”

“But who do the Endlans need protection from?”

“From us, the mainlanders. Or outsiders, as they think of us. It was outsiders who drove the Endlans there and killed all but the last remaining Wandering Forest.”

Jaren was trying desperately to follow Lupin’s logic, but it still didn’t make sense to him. “Why do the ‘outsiders’ hate the Endlans? Because of what happened to Maggie’s father?”

“Him, and others like him. Whether they go by accident or by choice, outsiders are killed by the Forest, if the poison of the lake doesn’t get to them first. But they were hated long before they went to the island, simply for being different. I imagine a few people were lured to their deaths by Endlans, and it was convenient to make them the scapegoats every time a child went missing or a husband didn’t return to his family. They are safer on Endla, just so long as the Forest doesn’t turn on them.”

Jaren considered her words for a moment. “What about this forest?” He waved vaguely at the trees around them.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s just a forest. But the animals here seem to be aware of what happens on Endla. I think they’re always watching and waiting, to see what the Wandering Forest will do.”

Jaren had never even considered that a forest could be watching him. He looked up into the branches that swayed slightly in the breeze, imagining that the trees were listening. He had always found this forest to be oddly quiet, and now he realized why: there was no birdsong or rustling in the underbrush. The only sound was the wind. “What about the poison in the lake? Is that part of the Forest’s magic?”

“Perhaps. I don’t know all of Endla’s secrets. They’re kept especially well from incantu, lest we leave and tell them to the outsiders. They say they send us away to protect us, but the truth is, we’re dangerous to Endlans.”

“How?”

“Because we don’t need the Forest like they do. And if we knew Endla’s vulnerabilities, we could share them with outsiders. Perhaps they think we have a vendetta against them.”

“Sounds like you’d have good reason to.”

“Some, maybe. I’ve made my peace.”

“Have any Endlans left by choice?” he asked, thinking of her parents.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I heard of a woman who tried to cross the ice one winter, when I was just a baby. But the ice was too thin, or the island didn’t want her to go, and she fell through a crack and disappeared.”

“So the Endlans are prisoners, in a way.”

“I suppose so. I know I’m glad to be clear of the place, even if I do miss my parents. I thought of trying to go back in the winter, but I don’t trust the island or the other Endlans. They have people who guard the shoreline, just in case. Watchers, they’re called. After they complete a year of duty, they attend a secret ceremony and become true citizens of Endla. And whatever happens to them there must be powerful, because after that, they don’t question the way of things again.”

Jaren had a final question, but it felt almost too personal.

Lupin arched an eyebrow. “You’re wondering why they don’t kill us outright.”

Jaren flushed. He didn’t like the way this girl seemed to read his thoughts. “It doesn’t sound out of the realm of possibility, given what I’ve heard about Endlans.”

“I’m sure some would like to, but our parents wouldn’t allow it. And I’ve heard not all children are so lucky. Stray too far from the safety of home, and an elder might give you to the Forest. If it’s hungry enough, the Forest might take you itself.” She glanced at him and burst out laughing.

“What?”

“Your face. You look terrified.”

He blushed, and she ruffled his hair affectionately, turning them around. And though Jaren was mostly grateful to be heading away from the lake and back to the relative safety of his sister and the marketplace, there was a part of him that felt as though they were heading in the wrong direction.

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