It is not easy to walk through the forest at night.

Pine holds her lamp aloft. There are wolves in this forest, but a witch has nothing to fear from them. A wolf will always avoid fire, and fire is simple enough to conjure.

Still, the silence unsettles her. The lights lead her on, bobbing ahead, forming a trail that winds through the woods. For now, Pine has been able to keep to a track, but she cannot know if this luck will last.

She has a vague feeling that the lights do not like her. She can sense their magic tugging at her, seeking to control. That they cannot succeed must be a discomfort to them. But she follows them, which apparently is all that matters, because they let her be.

A crashing noise comes from the darkness to one side, and Pine stops. She raises her hand higher, ready to call up a flame. A wolf would not be this noisy — most animals would not — but one can never know.

After a pause, the noise starts again. Pine hears a faint moaning — human moaning. Deciding, she abandons the track and walks towards the sound, using her free hand to push branches and ferns out of the way.

She finds the human soon enough.

‘What…’ she begins, stretching a hand to Iris to raise her up, but then she realizes the lights are here, as well. They circle above Iris’s head, reflecting in her eyes.

‘Thank you,’ Iris says to Pine’s hand once she’s up, but there is no recognition in her voice. She sounds nothing like herself. ‘I must go.’

‘We must all go,’ Pine agrees, but now she is wary. The lights seemed innocent enough when she’d thought they’d only come for her, just as her mother had seen. Magical things do often seek contact with magical humans, and this is not the first time for Pine that she has found herself having to walk into the darkness alone, to help them with whatever it is they require. But now she knows they have called for others — for regular folk — and that is not the normal way of things at all.

‘Are you alone?’ she asks, just in case Iris hears. It is possible the spell on her is not solid, and may waver. ‘Have you seen anyone else?’

But Iris does not answer. She begins to move again, walking as the lights lead her, heedless of where she steps. Pine hurries along, watching, pulling her away from thorn bushes.

She tries to think, fast. Is there something she can cast on Iris to wake her? Pine doesn’t want to let the girl go on like this, unknowing and unaware. There has to be something. Pine has studied this — the influences, the illusions. She has broken the spell over herself easily enough, but it is much trickier with others, when you cannot feel what you are doing. Still, there must be a way. If only she could concentrate properly…

She tries to steer Iris towards the track, which is awkward when she only has one hand free. Pine bites the lamp ring with her teeth. It tastes of iron and her own skin, but at least now her gestures are more effective.

The two girls climb onto the track, only to see another figure wandering just ahead, barefoot and dressed in white.

Pine panics momentarily. Another! How is she ever to manage two? But fear jostles something in her mind, and she finally remembers — there is indeed a spell, a taxing one, but doable. She lets go of Iris’s hand, pushing the girl on a little. Iris notices nothing, and keeps walking.

Pine puts the lamp down and casts, twice.

Blackness floods her field of vision as the claps resonate through the woods. The force of the spells has pushed the air out of her lungs, like a fall would, and she gasps, bent double and temporarily blinded. It takes a few heartbeats before she can breathe deeply again, and the black fades away. Was this worth it? Has it worked?

But once her vision clears, the first thing Pine sees is another wanderer, a bit further away, and she cannot help groaning in frustration.

The lights spin indignantly overhead, but do not attack. At least that is a good sign. Iris looks around in mute horror, her eyes wide open and both hands over her mouth. The second wanderer has come closer, and Pine can see her face now, but she is unfamiliar. Later, it can all be dealt with it later. Pine throws a third spell, knowing she is overreaching — knowing she will faint. But as her legs turn to dough and the ground hits her in the face and chest, she hears another clap and knows that at least she has not missed. At this point, that would have been unsurprising.

‘Pine! Pine, can you hear me?’

Pine recognizes this voice, even before her sight returns to confirm. Peony. Her voice, her face, her fingers digging in fright into Pine’s arm like so many twigs.

Peony pulls her up into a sitting position, and Pine looks around. The lights appear to have multiplied, and the track is lit so well it could be mistaken for day, if not for the colors being all wrong. The place seems eerie, with green and blue and purple swirling around in chaos. Peony, Iris, the stranger girl — they all look ghostlike, and the path is unrecognizable.

‘What are we doing here?’ Iris whispers. She’s in her nightdress, and her feet are bleeding. ‘What is she…’

‘I remember,’ Peony says, glaring up at the lights. ‘They called to me. They led me here. What are you?’ she yells at them, loud enough to be heard for miles, and they drift away from her. ‘What do you want?’

The third girl stays silent.

‘Who are you?’ Pine asks her. Iris gasps and waves at her —

‘Don’t you know? It’s the Princess!’

‘Don’t worry,’ Peony says flippantly. ‘She’s our friend now, isn’t she? Aren’t you, my lady? You seem to like us.’

The Princess blinks at her in incomprehension. Pine stares at them both. She should’ve known, from her nightdress alone — none but the Princess could have such a fine one, and with embroidery this elaborate — but she had been too distracted by the spells to notice. So this is the Princess. If not for what she is wearing, she would look no different from the rest of them. She notices Pine’s stare, and startles her by stretching a hand out to her.

‘See?’ Peony says, as Pine takes the hand circumspectly and stands up. The Princess smiles, and Pine attempts to smile back, but she still feels too dizzy for that. ‘I told you she likes us. Of course she would — you should’ve seen Magnolia and Plum fawning over her. Iris, I’d beware if I were you. Looked like they found a new favorite sister.’

‘Oh, shush,’ Iris says, without much rancor. ‘You’re only jealous she likes Magnolia more than you.’

Peony shrugs.

‘Well, can’t argue with her taste there. Everybody likes Magnolia.’

‘We should hope they don’t,’ Pine says, indicating the lights, and Peony grows serious. ‘It’s bad enough that we are all here. No need for more.’

‘What are they, anyway?’ Peony asks. ‘What do they want? Looks like your sort of thing, Pine.’

‘It is magic, yes,’ Pine agrees. ‘But they should not come for non-witches like you. This is not how…’

‘Look!’ Iris says suddenly, pointing, and the others turn around to look. And then, before Pine can say anything, do anything, Peony is already running.

‘Don’t touch my sister, you abominations!’ she screams at the lights, taking swipes at them with a branch as she leaps over the ferns. ‘Not her! Let her go!’ Pine hasn’t seen her pick the branch up, but Peony can be very fast. The lights scatter, and Peony jumps at Orchid, hugging her, holding her, trying to stop her. But Orchid’s eyes are just as empty as the others’ had been, just as unseeing, and she struggles in Peony’s arms, saying nothing, intent only on getting out.

Pine stumbles after, and in a moment Iris slides under her arm to support her. The Princess follows them, too, picking her way through the undergrowth. They reach Orchid just in time, as she’s about to extricate herself. She shoves Peony into a tree as she does, so hard that Peony yelps in pain. The prospect of casting again, without proper restoration, makes Pine feel cold deep in her stomach. But she sees the terror in Peony’s eyes, and knows it must be done.

This time the faint is deeper, and emerging from the dark takes effort. Someone is holding her, rubbing her temples. She opens her eyes to see the lights, and Iris’s face right above her.

‘Listen,’ Iris says, and behind her Peony is nodding. ‘Not that we aren’t thankful for you saving us from their spell — we are — but you shouldn’t do it if it pains you this much.’

‘We don’t want you to be hurt,’ Peony adds.

‘Well, I don’t want you to play puppets to who knows what.’ Pine stands up gingerly, leaning on Iris’s shoulder. ‘Do not worry about me. I will be well enough.’ She is not very sure of it, in truth, but there is no need to frighten them. Fear only wastes strength, and they may need it still.

Orchid has found some by-the-road, and is holding the crushed leaves to the back of Peony’s head. Pine can see her hands shivering. Summer nights are not exactly freezing, but it is still nighttime, and Pine is the only one dressed warmly enough for it. She pulls off her coat, but then hesitates. Everybody looks cold.

‘Give it to the lady,’ Peony says, nodding to the Princess. ‘She’s been sniffling all day.’

As the Princess swaddles herself in the coat, Iris asks —

‘What now?’ She waves at the lights. They circle overhead, and to Pine’s eye appear vaguely annoyed. ‘Do we follow them, or leave?’

Peony glowers at the lights.

‘Leave and never come back, if you ask me,’ she says. ‘We are not their playthings, to be pulled around however they wish. They do not deserve our help, if that is what they want. Should have asked nicely.’

‘I doubt they are capable of understanding such things,’ Pine says. ‘Propriety and politeness are human concepts. And anyway, I’m not sure they’ll let us go. They have called us here for a reason.’

‘Well, we can at least try,’ Peony says. ‘Give me the leaves, Orchid. And don’t look at me like that — it wasn’t your fault. It was all them.’ With another glare at the lights, and with the by-the-road held to her head, she starts walking back, towards the village.

‘Wait!’ Pine tries to follow, but her legs are still too weak to match Peony’s stride. ‘Wait, be careful, they might…’

Yet as the lights spiral down and out, momentarily surrounding Peony as if in a glittering cocoon, she backs away from them unharmed. Pine breathes a sigh of relief. She would not be up to much healing right now. The lights form a shining wall in front of Peony, hung across the path like an enormous curtain. It is bright enough to hurt the eyes, but at least it does nothing else. Still, Pine can sense power sizzling in it — power that, if at rest for the moment, is still far greater than her own.

Peony shields her eyes with her arm and tries to walk around the wall. But it moves with her, and bars her way wherever she goes until she gives up and turns around to stalk back to the others.

‘I can’t even touch it,’ she complains. ‘It just pushes me away, no matter how I try.’

‘So they do not want us gone,’ Orchid says. ‘Can you cut through, Pine? Or are you too ill for that?’

Pine shakes her head.

‘I doubt I could even if I were well,’ she says. ‘Anyway, it may be wiser to do as they want. They drew us here the only way they knew how, but that alone does not make them evil. It’s possible this will be harmless, after all. We might be safer proceeding than trying to escape.’

‘We might?’ Peony says with a snort. ‘Is that what it’s like to be a witch, then — to have to trust some forest apparitions, just like that, because they are magical?’

‘Sometimes it is like that, yes,’ Pine says. ‘Can someone find my lamp, please? I think I left it over there.’

The lights are back to swirling above the track. Together, the girls proceed deeper into the forest, keeping as close to each other as they can. Pine keeps her eyes on the trail, but even so the constant shifts of color are confusing. She can feel her strength flowing back, the natural currents around her replenishing her resources, but it is a slow process. If something happens before she is better, if she has to break more of these spells…

Yet the dance of the lights before her eyes is mesmerizing, and after a while it seems to Pine she can almost make out a voice, just on the edge of hearing — not words, not as she knows them, but a meaning.

‘We are coming,’ she whispers then in response, and the others give her startled looks. ‘We will help you. Don’t be afraid.’

But the voice is too distant and too weak for her to know if it is answering — if it has heard, at all — and all she can do is go on.

Iris is cold.

At least it is not winter, now. She can imagine what that would be like, walking like this — in nothing but her nightdress — over cold ground, with frost cutting her feet. Although the random rocks that litter the road now do not seem that much of an improvement. She’d never realized there could be so many rocks in the middle of a forest. Iris does not complain, because the others have it no better. Still, secretly she wishes she could just return home, into warmth and niceness.

She does not like to be without her sisters, either. They have never left her alone for long, not unless one of them had to go to the city or the fair. They would not have left her now, either, she knows, if she called for them. But under the spell she did not think to do that. She did not think of anything much, then.

It had been an exciting day, walking around with the Princess, even if it had amounted to later being stuck with the chores well into the night. Iris does not know how long she slept for, afterwards, but it feels as if she managed no more than a few minutes before her room grew light and the call crept into her dreams. She remembers little of getting up, of climbing out — only strange glimpses of blues and purples, and a force compelling her to forget all else and go.

On her own, Iris would have never risked this journey. The forest is much too dark and frightening, even with a witch for company. The ferns loom under the trees, emerald where the light reaches them, and fading to black further away. It is probably best she does not remember walking through it all alone. The girls have already gone much too deep into the forest for her taste, and will be going deeper still.

The track they are using is for carts and riders — for people moving fast. There is a good reason why walkers do not take it, but go around the forest instead. On horseback, it can be crossed in a day, if the weather is clement and you know your way. But on foot it is a much longer journey, and much more perilous, despite the track itself being of a decent quality. Iris herself has never seen this part of the forest except from the height of a cart, and that only in summer. There are wolves in this place, and some say even bears. Pine should be able to repel them if she were at her full strength, but she looks liable to faint again at any moment, and so Iris is worried. Whatever reasons Pine may have for trusting these lights, Iris does not know them, and is not sure she’d be convinced even if she knew. Magic has always fascinated her, but not so much that she would be glad to risk her life for it. But Pine appears calm now, and Iris does not have much choice other than trust that.

The land is growing hilly, and the trees stand taller. Iris looks up, but she can no longer see the stars behind the bright, darting lights. Peony and Orchid have been holding hands, and she snuggles closer to them, too, for warmth, sliding her arm around Peony’s waist. Her feet hurt less, now, but she knows it’s only because they have started going numb. Iris wonders how much longer there is to walk. It feels as if they have been going for hours, but with the skies still dark it is unlikely to be true.

The road inclines, and suddenly Pine stops, with her eyes locked on the far distance.

‘What is it?’ Orchid asks. The lamp swings in her hand. Its light is invisible now, but they have all been too wary to risk extinguishing it yet.

Pine’s expression is strange.

‘I think I can…’ She shakes her head a little, as if trying to dislodge water in her ears. ‘Now that we’re closer, I can almost make it out… what it is…’

‘It?’ Iris prompts, intrigued despite herself.

‘The voice,’ Pine says, ‘the call, the reason why…’

Iris stands still for a while, listening with her, but she can hear nothing except for the breathing of the others. They stand around quietly, too, waiting for Pine to say more, until at last Peony can hold it in no longer —

‘Well? Do we go on, or what?’

Pine blinks, as though awakened from a dream.

‘We go,’ she states, and starts walking up the incline, faster now. ‘Almost there.’

The others follow her. For a while, nothing changes, but then between the trees in the distance Iris sees a clearing. It startles her, because there should be none here — or was not, until recently. Could it be a new one, where trees were recently felled? But the stumps look ancient, weathered as they are and covered in lichen and moss.

Together, the girls step into the clearing cautiously. Over their heads, the lights stream inside, too, and gather in the sky, circling. Above them, the moon hangs in the sky, round and bone-white. Below, in the middle of the clearing, a giant flower lies, with its thick pale petals closed for the night. Iris looks beyond the flower, to the other side of the clearing, and sees two more people there.

The spirit is ready.

This was not the way it was meant to be — not like this, without much warning or preparation. But if it is stranded in this strange land, then so be it. There is no time to waste. Its heart is formed, its blood is ready, and must start moving soon, or turn into poison. Life must begin now, or it never will. There is no time to prepare these humans for their role. They will have to learn on their own. In a way, that will be interesting to see.

The spirit can feel their eyes on it, can sense their gazes converge as they take in its shell. They are much too alert for its liking, and most of them much too hostile, but it is too late now to correct any errors.

The lights arrange themselves in the night sky and gradually fall into a spin. They have failed, but it is not their fault. The patterns of magic in this land are unfamiliar, and hard to manage. This will all have to do the way it is. As long as the humans listen, everything can still happen as it must.

As long as they listen…

But they do not. Their attention is all for each other, their minds are distracted, and after a while the spirit grows frightened. Without them, it cannot proceed — without them, it can do nothing. Has it made a terrible mistake?

The sky turns…

It is like walking out of a fog. Magnolia looks around, but what she sees cannot possibly be right. There are flashes of a memory in her mind — a forest, a stream, climbing and falling. There are cuts on her legs that are shallow but numerous, and they sting. But she does not quite remember how she got them. She knows she went into the forest, but she has no idea why.

The others are all staring at her, and the sight of them both heartens and scares her. Pine lies on the ground, clutching her head. Plum stands next to her, with a bewildered look on her face. Magnolia opens her mouth to speak, but then her eyes find the Princess, and her heart falls.

For a moment, the understanding refuses to penetrate. The Princess cannot be here. Especially not like this — at night, unguarded, and wearing next to nothing even though she has been ill. Have they led her here, somehow, for a reason Magnolia cannot recall? Have they taken her here, without letting anyone know? In Magnolia’s fragmented memories of her walk through the woods she is alone. But if the others are all here, they must have passed through the same ground, too. What did they bring the Princess for? Magnolia’s heart hammers so strongly that it is hard to breathe. This can easily be a hanging offence. This can see them all dead, and tortured beforehand. If the Princess blames them… The thought is unbearable, and something needs to be done at once.

‘My lady!’ The Princess does not care for bowing, but Magnolia only remembers it when already prostrated on the ground. ‘My lady, forgive us… forgive…’

But the Princess will not understand. Magnolia is close to wailing in despair, but she must keep her composure. The grass pricks her nose, and she can smell the earth, and an odd lakeside scent on top of that. She is the oldest here, and so it is her duty to protect them, to save them if need be. Yet how can it be done now, when it is already too late? And what if the Princess falls ill, worse than she was — what if she dies? The visions of gallows flash through Magnolia’s mind. She must not let it happen. This is all too horrible to think of, but think she must.

Somebody is pulling her up, their hand on her arm, stinging her freezing skin with the warmth of the touch. This makes her thoughts scatter. Magnolia looks up and sees the Princess, with stars in her hair.

‘Magnolia,’ the Princess says, sounding uncertain. ‘Up?’

Magnolia rises, mesmerized. These are not stars, she sees now, but strange lights — blue, and purple, and green, forming a slowly moving circle above. So that is why the lighting has felt off to her. Distracted by all the people, she did not realize.

‘What are you apologizing for?’ Peony asks, and Magnolia turns to face her. ‘You didn’t do anything, did you?’

‘We have brought her here,’ Magnolia says, and it takes some effort to keep her voice steady. ‘Brought her, when she is unwell…’

‘We brought her?’ Iris gasps in indignation. ‘We brought nothing! It was all them — they called us, they pushed us all through the thicket, not so much as asking —’

‘They?’ Magnolia feels as if her own head is spinning, not just the lights. This is when she notices Iris’s feet, and gasps, too. ‘You’re bleeding! What have you been —’

But they are all like this, she sees now — all the girls, standing around with their feet bare. Their ankles are criss-crossed with red, and the hems of their nightdresses are torn in places, and stained green. The wet patch in Peony’s hair looks sickeningly like blood. Pine is the only one dressed properly. Even so, she is white as paper, and when she tries to get up, her legs wobble so much that she immediately sits back down on the ground.

‘I am done,’ she says in a hoarse voice, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, her gaze does not focus immediately. ‘No more, tonight. If they bring more here under that spell, they’ll have to stay like that until Mother can see to them.’

‘What spell?’ Plum asks, but Magnolia interrupts —

‘Did a spell bring her here?’ Pine nods. ‘That is even worse! Don’t you understand that they will make it our fault, or Pine’s fault at least, you’ll see that they will — and she is ill, too, so what if she gets worse, what if she dies — they will execute us all, they will —’

‘I agree with your concern,’ Pine says. ‘But we have more immediate worries, now. It’s beginning.’

‘What is?’

But once Magnolia looks where Pine points, there is no need for an answer.

An enormous flower lies in the middle of the clearing — like a giant water lily, but there is no pond in sight, and no stem either. The closed petals are white and thick, and trembling. Magnolia looks up only to see the lights gather speed. They rotate faster and faster, until they coalesce into one — a wheel of light, a crown of blue fire so bright it outshines the moon…

Abruptly, the wind rises. Someone grabs Magnolia’s arm. She turns to see Plum’s wide, panicky eyes.

‘What’s happening?’ Magnolia hears Peony shout, her voice smudged by the wind. ‘Should we run?’

‘No!’ Pine shouts back, straining to be heard. ‘Don’t run! It needs us, all of us, by its side!’

‘For what?’

‘Nothing! Just don’t leave it!’

It is easier said than done. Magnolia and Plum cling together, but the wind is so strong now that it is hard to stay upright, or stay in one place. They step back a little until they find a tree to grab, and remain there, watching.

The petals have begun to glow as they shrink where they lie, as if consumed by an inner fire. The ground is shaking. Plum’s hair has come unbound, and keeps being thrown into her face. Magnolia can see the others have stepped back to the edges of the clearing, too — all of them but Pine, who remains where she was. The wheel of light spins so swiftly it begins to emit a keening wail, a sound almost too high to be audible. The petals turn to ash, and the wind blows it away, revealing something that was within — a shape, a spine…

The wheel explodes in a flash of unbearable brilliance. The shock of it hits Magnolia in the stomach and throws her back into the woods. It takes her a while before she can see well enough to risk standing up. Her ears ring, but behind this she thinks she can hear something.

Magnolia sees Plum speak, but the words don’t reach her. Plum motions towards the clearing, and together they stagger back. The sudden dark is near-impenetrable, but a bit of light remains somewhere ahead.

The burned remains of the flower emit a sour smell. Pine sits by it, clutching her lamp. The glass in it is cracked in places, but the flame inside has endured, and as Magnolia steps closer it enables her to see. A small body lies now where petals used to be. It looks like a newborn foal — spindly and slimy, and generally horse-shaped. But it is much smaller than a foal should be, and no foal ever born has been this color. Greenish gray, the creature seems like something fished out of a river. Then Magnolia sees it move. Its mouth opens — a toothless hole.

Magnolia realizes it must be crying.