Erador dripped his hands in the stream and splashed water on his face. The light breeze cooled his skin. He pulled the compass from his bag and positioned himself in the direction they were heading but it was away from Lucrethia.

  “We’re going the wrong way.”

  “I know.” Haven capped her canteen. “We’re going to the other Cheeokwa village.”

  Erador cocked his head. “What made you change your mind?”

  “We’re already close and… it’s a way for me to put some things to rest.”

  She picked up her bag and continued ahead. Erador followed her from the trees into a field, his steps feeling lighter after they had walked hours. He tried to ignore the rising optimism. What if they found nothing again?

  “How far is it?” he asked.

  Haven slowed next to him and pointed ahead to the forest expanding across the horizon as far as he could see.

  “They live in a forest?”

  “Not in it. It surrounds them.”

  Fireflies blinked and crickets chirped in the trees with a thick canopy that shadowed the forest floor. No rodents chattered or birds chirped as if the creatures inside were convinced it was night. For once, Erador wasn’t drawn to the darkness. He slowed his pace behind Haven as they approached the trees. He wanted to turn away, because he was afraid stepping into the dark would swallow him whole. Shade mimicked his fear. When Erador noticed that Haven didn’t seem phased by it, he denied those feelings and blamed Shade for it.

  Haven pressed her hand on a tree and shut her eyes. She took in steady breaths and ran her fingers across the bark as if searching for something. She spent more time in the forest than in Lucrethia, but Erador had never seen her this interested in a tree.

  “What are you doing?”

  She removed her hand. “Trying to see if I can call my people.”

  Erador snorted. “Through a tree?”

  “They can communicate with the forest. I was hoping the trees could sense me.”

  “How?”

  “It’s the Shifting Forest.”

  Shade eased back Erador’s fear to make him acknowledge that his feelings were his own. Erador didn’t fight it. The Shifting Forest was a two day walk from Lucrethia. The followers used to talk about how it would creak at night, the sound carrying to the next town hours away. It sounded like the screams of thousands of people, as if the trees were calling out for help--to lure someone to them and when they came, they would never come out.

  Erador shivered. They were just trees, but he couldn’t convince himself that this tale was fake, not when the forest was too dark for daytime, and when he learned that Yuni could be a vesper.

  From what Erador could see, the floor had only a few twigs and leaves compared to the forest around Lucrethia. With how dense it was, he expected more, expected not to see the dirt and roots. It was as if someone had cleaned it and tilled the soil. No. It was like the trees had moved it themselves.

  “Does it really move?”

  “Yes,” Haven said. “The trees help hide my people. It’s how they survived from settlers.”

  “Why weren’t your people there?”

  “It’s... a long story. I’m going further in to see if I can get the trees to listen.”

  She went inside. In scarce areas of light that broke through the canopy, Erador could see her moving in deeper. Then she was gone. Erador’s heart raced as he was afraid he would lose her. He called her but she didn’t respond.

  The warm sun convinced him he should stay but for once, Shade pressed him to go. If there was one time he should bother Haven, it should be now. Erador dashed inside, jumping at the sound of a stick snapping under his boot. He couldn’t feel Shade anymore.

  He was alone.

  Truly alone in the darkness like he wanted. But for once, he didn’t want to be. He wanted to find the light to guide him, to help him… to save him. He couldn’t see the exit. An owl hooted, spiking his heart rate. The crickets chirped louder, fireflies swarming around him. Swatting at the bugs, he ran a few paces and tripped on a root. He crashed onto the dirt, his hand scrapping the rough bark of a tree, but he didn’t notice the wound.

  Fireflies swarmed around him and crickets jumped on top of him. He curled into a ball and cradled his head. The crickets drowned out his screams. Then he heard it. The one being that was always there for him. Shade told him to look.

  Erador lifted his head. The fireflies’ light cast on his moth and sunflower. Rise from your fears, he could hear Loma saying. Then a different voice came back to him; Eli’s voice: They need light and darkness just as much as you, even if you don’t see it. He hadn’t seen it. Erador hesitated before touching the moth, trying to see what Eli did. But he only felt resentment for it. He just wanted to find Haven. The buzzing stopped and he looked ahead. In the distance, fireflies blinked around her.

  Erador rose to his feet. He had to compose himself from running to her and hugging her. She kneeled on the ground with a knife in one hand and blood dripping from the palm of the other onto the earth. As he approached Haven, she looked at his hand.

  “You’re hurt,” she said.

  Erador checked the scrape from his fall. “I… fell. What are you doing?”

  The trees creaked as a breeze swept through, causing chills to run down his back. It wasn’t like any wind for the vegetation was too thick for even a light breeze. It was as if the forest itself had let out a breath. Fireflies scattered, dimming the area. The ground shifted under his boots as the roots burrowed deeper.

  It couldn't be real. Trees creaked and wind blew just like anywhere. His mind was playing tricks on him in the dark.

  Haven pulled out a cloth from her bag and wrapped her hand. “They’re coming”

  Shadows shifted among the trees as feet pattered on the dirt. Erador backed toward Haven.

  “Who called us?” A booming voice said.

  Haven rose. “Tsula from the Golden Fox Clan.”

  The fireflies flew overhead, lingering as a man came into view. Two men flanked him, holding drawn bows. The man in the center took a white glowing crystal from his pocket and held it up. Erador blinked away the stinging in his eyes. The man examined Erador briefly. His gaze lingered on Haven the longest, appearing intrigued. He gestured his hand and the men lowered their bows. He spoke to the other two in soft tones, but their language was indistinguishable.

  Their skin was chestnut red like Haven’s. They wore tan long shirts and loose pants adorned with leaf patterns. Two fresh ash leaves were perched at the crown of the skull, and green twigs were woven through their double braids that reached to their stomachs. They carried axes and knives on their belts. The most interesting thing was the tattoo of a tree on the sides of their necks with tiny crystals on the leaves. Haven told him the Cheeokwa had elements, and he could already guess it had something to do with nature.

  The one with the crystal spoke with an accent similar to Haven when they were kids. She lost hers years ago. “Where have you been?”

  “I was in Lucrethia,” Haven said.

  “Who is this?” the crystal man said, looking at Erador.

  “He’s a friend,” Haven said. “He’s Judgment’s son.”

  The crystal man stared at Erador. “Why have you come?”

  Erador opened his mouth to answer.

  “I want to hear from her,” the man said.

  “I wish to speak to an elder about what I caused.”

  He searched Haven closely as the branches creaked. “The trees whisper that you speak the truth. Come.” He turned around. “Stay close, or you will be lost.”

  They led them through the forest for what felt like hours. Though he was with these men who knew this forest, his spin tingle as if he felt like he was being watched.

  Erador emerged from the trees next to Haven who stopped. Dozens of domed-shaped houses made of bark were nestled in the valley. It was nothing like Haven’s village that was made of stone; it was traditional. His mouth watered at the smell cooked meat. The fence surrounding the village consisted of tied branches; it wasn’t like ones in Lucrethia that were cut flat and painted. People, wearing tan clothing with colors of green, moved around the village.

  Haven’s eyes glossed over.

  The men led them across the grass. Her steps were steady, but she looked anywhere besides her destination. Erador rubbed her shoulder, hoping she would take it as encouragement and know he was here. This was more than about Yuni.

  The men led them through the entrance.

  Erador kept close to Haven as they passed little homes made of bark. The villagers looked up from their tasks of basket weaving, carving, or playing. The women wore tan dresses to their ankles with colorful twigs decorated with beads at the ends. They had necklaces with polished stone in bright earthly colors. Erador could hardly contain his intrigue of how different it was, but he tried not to look too hard, afraid it might be disrespectful. Instead of twigs and leaves, the women wore two flowers in their hair and each person had an orbid crystal, glowing a dull green, around their necks. They all had similar features to Haven: wide-almond eyes, but the color was green or brown, and black long braids, high cheekbones, and slightly curved, prominent nose bridges.

  Nearby, a native man dropped a bowl and moved toward them. He was rather plan in comparison with only a tan shirt, pants, and single braid. The orbid crystal was one thing he shared, but it was similar to Haven’s; it glowed a dull yellow.

  “Tsula,” he said, in a shaking voice. “Is it you?”

  Haven blinked as she studied the man, focusing mostly on his one golden eye. “Degotoga… how did you know it was me?”

  He said nothing, as tears formed in his eyes and he he drew her into an embrace. Haven hesitated before she returned the gesture, stiffly.

  He pulled back, hands on her shoulders. “I'd recognize your eyes anywhere.” He had one golden eye that matched Haven’s but the other was brown. “I thought you died.”

  “I thought you did.” Haven choked. “What about our parents… and the other people from our village?”

  Degotoga looked down and shook his head. “Only a few escaped."

  Haven covered her face, her posture slouching. Erador resisted the urge to comfort her. "How did you get out of the village?"

  “I... had help from an outsider." Degotoga scratched his head as he looked to Erador. "An Odinatin man saved me by killing one of his own who was going to take my life."

  Haven searched his gaze. “That can't be."

  “I know your hatred for them is strong, but it's true. He took me out of the village and he saved others. If it weren't for him," Degotoga, said, looking a the people. “There would be less of us here."

  Haven turned away and placed a palm over her mouth. Erador's views on Odinaty came crashing down. Odinatins took whatever they wanted. These were the people who hated the impure, especially Native Harians.

  “Good to know they aren’t all bad,” Erador said.

  Degotoga nodded. “Who are you?”

  Haven grabbed Erador’s hand and pulled him closer. “This is my friend, Erador. He's from Lucrethia.”

  “A Lucrethian?” Degotoga studied him, not with disdain or mistrust like he would expect an outsider to do but with curiosity. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  He raised his hand toward the people and spoke briefly in his native tongue. “My sister Tsula, is well and alive.”

  The villagers approached with smiles and reached out to her. It reminded him of the old days in Lucrethia when people would greet those who had returned. It had gotten cold in Lucrethia after they had lost so much. Haven returned the warm gestures with a smile, but her lips trembled.

  As the people dispersed, the man with the crystal stepped forward. “She must meet with your Clan Grandmother.” He looked to Erador. “We will guide you out when you’re ready. Meet us at the entrance.”

  Degotoga gestured for Haven and Erador to follow him to a domed-building several times bigger than the houses. Degotoga lifted the hide covering the entrance and Haven went inside. Erador tried to follow but he stopped him.

  “You should stay here,” Degotoga said.

  Erador caught a glimpse of an older woman and children sitting around a blazing fire before Degotoga went in and shut the hide. Seconds later the children rushed out, giggling. They stopped and watched Erador curiously and scattered when Degotoga came out.

  "Grandmother Qaletaqa didn’t want me there.” He lead Erador from the entrance. “Has Tsula told you why she never came here?”

  “It’s not my place to tell,” Erador said.

  Degotoga nodded. “It’s great to have her back.”

  Would Haven stay? As much as Erador didn’t want to see her go, maybe it was better for her.

  “Haven told me this is the last Cheeokwa Clan,” Erador said.

  “Yes. It’s called People of the Mother Tree. The remaining three clans joined together a few years ago after the Golden Fox Clan... burned down.”

  Erador looked at the houses. “Your village is different. It was made of stone.”

  “We lived more common like the settlers. The village was a gift from Odinaty to our ancestor Halian.” Degotoga furrowed his brow. “Did you enter?”

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  Erador scratched his head. “We did yesterday.”

  Degotoga’s eyes widened. “You disturbed the angry spirits and could’ve led them here.”

  Erador wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t believe in spirits, but he didn’t feel right walking through the destruction and seeing what perished. He felt he had disturbed something, but not spirits.

  Erador frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  Degotoga moved closer and whispered, “If a spirit attaches to you, it can curse you and pass onto your children. That’s what happened to Tsula and I.”

  “What do you mean?” Erador said, leaning closer.

  Degotoga looked around and pointed at his golden eye. “The golden fox spirit is in us. We share it because we’re twins.”

  Degotoga’s one eye was so much like Haven’s. Erador didn’t notice anyone else with that color.

  “What does that mean?” Erador said.

  The hide covering opened and Haven stepped out.

  “How was it?” Degotoga asked.

  Haven didn’t respond, only appearing more broken than before they came. It made Erador’s chest swell with regret for asking her to come here.

  Qaletaqa stepped out. Her hunched back made her appear smaller than Haven. She had a single braid and she was dressed similar to the other woman.

  “Tsula has done a great disservice to you, Degotoga, by not returning,” Qaletaqa said. “She’s allowed you to suffer with bad luck for selfish reasons. She hasn’t given you the opportunity to journey with her to the mountain.”

  “What are you talking about?” Erador said.

  Qaletaqa looked to him disgruntled for interrupting. “Who is this?”

  “He’s—” Haven began.

  “Erador Lucasta. My father is Judgment, Lord of Lucrethia.”

  “Judgment and his people have been kind to us.” Qaletaqa paused and studied him. “That doesn’t excuse him for not telling us that one of our children was under his care.”

  When Haven had come to Lucrethia, she was scared and couldn’t speak Harian. It was a time when Taurin was alive and Judgment was well, but the Raven had already ruined their reputation. He didn’t know why his father never told them. Maybe it was what Haven requested or maybe he was afraid to let her go when she could be in danger.

  “I can’t speak on my father’s behalf,” Erador said.

  “Judgment was afraid to let me leave after he heard what happened to the Golden Fox Clan.” Haven played with her orbid crystal. “He allowed me to stay if I wished.”

  Qaletaqa took in a breath. “Then it’s Tsula who chose this path. The fox spirit’s anger has grown since you left. You have brought us bad luck. I can’t allow you to return, not until you have completed your journey with Degotoga.”

  “Journey?” Erador turned to Haven. “What journey?”

  “This doesn’t concern outsiders,” Qaletaqa said, raising her voice. “If you choose to stay, Tsula, you must prepare by morning. Otherwise, you must leave. You should remain here Degotoga. The bad luck she has brought will dwindle as time passes.”

  Haven took in a breath slowly, nostrils flared. “I’m leaving.”

  Qaletaqa cocked her head. “So be it. Degotoga lead them out.”

  Qaletaqa went back inside.

  “That’s it?” Erador said.

  “They want me to leave, so we’re going.” Haven stomped ahead, not looking back. “Why do you think I didn’t want to come?”

  Degotoga looked sorrowful and it infuriated Erador that they had to follow these rules. What was with this fox spirit and bad luck? Erador followed Degotoga and Haven down the path.

  “This is ridiculous,” Erador said. “They’re kicking you out because of some spirit?”

  Some villagers looked at him as they passed.

  “Quiet,” Degotoga said. “It’s bad luck to speak of it among the people.”

  Erador shook his head. There was no such thing as bad luck. They went outside the village gates where the men from the forest waited. Haven moved toward them. Degotoga pulled on her arm to stop her. She turned around as tears dripped from her chin.

  “Tsula, I’m sorry,” Degotoga said.

  “It was meant to be this way,” Haven said.

  “It doesn't have to be.”

  “If we go on that journey, we could die.” She drew in her eyebrows. “You especially.”

  “What journey and what spirit?” Erador said.

  “Our ancestor Halian who is of Cheeokwa blood,” Degotoga began. “He not only gave away our hiding places to the white Odinatins and caused many to be slaughtered, he hunted a sacred golden fox as a prize that would grant him wealth and status. Upon it’s death, the fox cursed his family for generations starting with his first born.”

  “You’re both this way?”

  Degotoga nodded. “Part of it’s in me.”

  “What bad luck?” Erador said.

  “I was dead at birth and was a sick child. I’m too weak to become a warrior so I’ve had to… take on other tasks.” He looked down in shame. “Not to mention our village had burned and we lost our home and family.”

  Erador cocked his head toward Haven. “This is true? You think Odinaty killed your people because you were cursed?”

  “What are you saying?” Degotoga said.

  Haven wiped her eyes and sniffled. “I accidentally attacked the son of a council member. It was my fault they came the next day and killed us.”

  Degotoga furrowed his brow. “No. Odinaty came because they hate us.” He touched his sister’s arm. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I gave them reason. I couldn’t control my element.”

  “You didn’t mean it. The fox spirit hurt us. Don’t you see? This is why we must go.”

  Erador looked at them with disbelief. How could they let this myth control them? “They have labeled you and you choose to believe it.”

  “It’s not just a belief,” Haven said, touching her chest. “I feel it.”

  “Do you know how much bad luck I’ve had? My father abused me, Lucrethia is nearly done for, followers left us, and my father is dying. How much more do you want me to add? Nearly every one of these things was out of my control. It’s not different for both of you. No spirit controls your life.”

  Degotoga and Haven exchanged glances. They didn’t argue. All he could do was offer his opinion. He couldn’t change their’s.

  Degotoga looked to the ground at Shade who hid. “You have a shadow spirit.”

  Shade came out swirling around and greeted Degotoga who laughed. “If only Grandmother Qaletaqa was this welcoming.”

  Haven gave the first full smile since she got here.

  Erador looked back to the village. “You have shadow elements here?”

  “No. Most here have nature spirits.” Degotoga looked to Haven. “Except us.” He looked at Shade. “What’s your shadow’s name?”

  “Shade.”

  “Fitting.” Degotoga touched Haven’s shoulder. “Erador says you went to the Golden Fox Clan. I won’t tell Grandmother Qaletaqa.” He studied Haven with a compassionate gaze. “The Tsula I knew would never step foot in a place where many perished. Your beliefs aren’t as strong since you left.”

  “Time has changed me. We’ve been through a lot.” She touched Erador’s hand and partially smiled. “I have good friends.”

  Degotoga nodded. “If you didn’t want to return, why did you come?”

  “We need to learn about the vespers,” Erador said.

  Degotoga’s eyes widened. “The Tlamehakee? Those are myth.” He leaned toward Haven. “You don’t remember them?”

  “Not enough.”

  “What do you want to know?” Degotoga looked at Erador with protective suspicion.

  He must know that Harians don’t like vespers, and they clearly meant something to the Cheeokwa. The words caught in Erador’s throat, but Haven seemed to notice as she answered.

  “We think… there might be one among the Lucrethians.”

  “You think there’s one?” Degotoga whispered. “Why?”

  He said it with a straight face that Erador wasn’t sure was true. Maybe his belief in vespers would make it easier to get what he needed.

  “She drinks blood,” Erador said. “She’s addicted to candy and… the color purple. Her teeth are yellow…but she’s young. She has a crystal brooch with a green flame.”

  Degotoga crossed his arms. “Those are signs. The flame especially. I’m not sure about having addictions."

  “What is the flame for?"

  Degotoga licked his lip as he looked from Haven and back to Erador. “It’s one of their spirits. It’s extracted from them to make them human.”

  Erador didn’t believe it was a spirit, but maybe it worked more like an element like how orbid crystals were able to extract elements from a Harian and be used. Which meant Yuni could use it to change back like a shifter. He didn’t want to argue with Degotoga about it. But according to the witch book, after extraction into an orbid crystal, Harians regenerated their elements overtime. Why wasn’t Yuni always changing back?

  “That’s it?” Erador said. “It doesn’t do anything else?”

  “I don’t know. Native Harians haven't been the same since since the settlers came. Some clans are gone and with them, the stories were lost."

  All the talk of spirits wasn’t helping, but Erador tried to keep his emotions level. Haven already noticed his frustration, as she touched his arm, likely hoping it would help stop it. There had to be a reason that made sense, but he wouldn’t find it here.

  “If I were to break it, would she turn back into a vesper?”

  Degotoga’s eyes widened. “No… Why would you?”

  “She’s going to kill my father,” Erador spat.

  Degotoga looked at him with disbelief. “You believe the Tlamehakee are violent?”

  It was clear that he was biased about them because they considered them saviors. If vespers can turn human, they could be anyone or anywhere.

  “If these beings are real,” Erador began. “They can’t be the same as they used to be. Any living being is capable of violence and these are people... the worst kind of living thing.”

  “We know them as peaceful beings who lived in the forest. When the settlers came centuries ago, the Tlamehakee helped protect our people,” Degotoga said.

  “They became allies in desperate times,” Haven said.

  “We might not be here if not for them. I assure you, if this woman is one, and she’s violent, they weren’t always this way. They would only feed on animals, never people.”

  It sounded as if these vespers cared for life and nature. Maybe this is why the Senith religion spun them as evil because they only got in the settlers’ way. But the vespers were human-like and Erador didn’t place them on the same level as animals like his father wanted them to with every creature. Harians and humans could be outright evil, and vespers had that blood in them, so Yuni was more than capable of harm.

  “If there is one among your people, it’s best not to reveal it. Not to Harians. They won’t take it well,” Degotoga said. "Freeing her spirit could cause it to enter you. It would not take it well, knowing it was in the wrong body.”

  “Thank you, Dego.” Haven hugged her brother. “We should be going.”

  “I know Grandmother Qaletaqa told you not to come, but don’t think you’re not welcome. Our people are happy too see you.”

  Degotoga held her a moment longer before he let go. Haven wiped her eyes and turned, walking across the grass.

  “Take care of her.” Degotoga looked to Erador. “Her spirit’s not well.”

  Erador said goodbye and followed Haven toward the men waiting to take them back. He’d been worried about her before they came on this journey. What if it only hurt her more and for what? He still didn’t know what to with Yuni, but he didn’t believe a spirit would attach to him. He wanted to break her brooch.