The Poison Season(9)

Fiona had sighed, as if she’d known this moment was coming. “Our ancestors once lived in a small walled city on the mainland, cut off from the rest of the world. But one day a little girl from a nearby village was lured away from her home by our singing, and she was never seen again. The villagers attacked the city, trapping many of our people inside the walls and setting fire to everything within. But some escaped, and they fled up the mountain, desperate for shelter.

“When they came to Lake Luma, they say the island called to them. One of our people had snuck into a nearby town to get supplies, and she heard the locals talking about the Wandering Forest, how it was evil, devouring anyone who traveled to the island. Many had gone there to try to put an end to the Forest—or at least to drive it somewhere else, where it could no longer harm humans. But those people never returned. Our ancestors decided to risk the Forest.”

“How did we cross the lake?”

“It wasn’t poisonous back then,” Fiona had explained. “When all our ancestors made the voyage safely and the villagers could see that they were still alive on Endla, they decided to cross and burn everything down, including our people. They made an assault on the island a few weeks later. But before they could reach the far shore, their boats began to disintegrate. Dozens of outsiders drowned. They tried again, several weeks later, and the same thing happened. The lake had become poisonous, and it could never be crossed safely again.

“The Wandering Forest had found people who would protect it, and so it, in turn, protected us.”



Chapter Five


Days passed, and no one spoke of the drowning. It bothered Leelo that people could simply pretend a man hadn’t died, or worse, that he had never lived. She tried not to think about Pieter, but she worried for Isola. She hadn’t seen her friend since that morning, and she doubted she’d be coming to the spring festival tonight.

Fiona straightened the hem of Leelo’s new dress and looked up, her eyes wet with tears.

“What is it?” Leelo asked, staring down at her mother with concern.

“I was just thinking how beautiful you look.”

“And that made you cry?” Leelo teased.

Fiona smiled and rose to her feet, wobbling slightly. “I know you’re becoming a grown woman, but it’s hard to believe I was only a few years older than you are now when I gave birth to you.”

According to their culture, the children of Endla became adults during their year as Watchers. But Leelo didn’t feel grown-up, and she certainly didn’t feel ready to have children. She frowned and turned to look in the mirror. The swan crown, which her mother had helped make, started at the front of Leelo’s hairline and swept down like two wings to the back of her head, just above her plait. The berries were clustered like blue jewels at the front of the crown.

Her new dress had been made to flatter her complexion, the wool dyed in soft tones from the pale sky of her eyes to the wintergreen of snow-covered pines. A pattern of snowflakes, winter-white foxes, and silver pinecones decorated the skirt; the collar, cuff, and hem were trimmed in soft white rabbit fur.

“You look like the Snow Maiden,” Sage said from the doorway. Her own dress was woven in autumnal shades, with tawny deer, russet squirrels holding hazel acorns, and golden oak leaves decorating the fabric. A small capelet made of deer hide was tied over her shoulders. She had already donned her antler crown, the red berries bright against the tines.

Leelo smiled and took Sage’s hand, leading her downstairs. They were both too anxious to eat much, so Aunt Ketty gave them a breakfast of toasted bread and blackberry jam.

“Careful not to stain your dresses,” she said. “Our mother wasn’t nearly as good at sewing as Fiona, and you’ll want to save those for your own daughters.”

Sage rolled her eyes. Her maternal instincts, if she had any, had yet to surface. Both girls had been there for Tate’s birth, but while Leelo had been in awe of her mother’s strength and the quiet assuredness of the midwife, Sage had seen only blood and pain.

“Yes, Aunt Ketty,” Leelo said. The truth was, she didn’t know if she wanted children. But Endlans had a responsibility to maintain their population, not only to keep their magic alive, but as protectors of the last Wandering Forest. At least she had a few more years before she would be expected to marry.

“Come on,” Sage said, shoving aside her half-eaten breakfast. “We don’t want to be late.”

Tate peered at Leelo from behind the door to his little room below the stairs and gave a shy wave. Leelo waved back, feigning cheerfulness. She had often fantasized about keeping him on the island, even if his magic didn’t come. They would build a little house on the far side, where few islanders went, and Leelo would visit him every day.

But she knew now that was no kind of life for Tate. He would be miserable all by himself. The best she could hope for was that he would find other exiled Endlans to live with so he wouldn’t lose touch with his home completely.

“We’ll be back in a few hours,” Leelo assured him.

“Stay here,” Ketty said, as if he didn’t know. “And whatever you do, don’t go near the lake.” The spring festival always marked the day when Endlans could sing again.

Tate nodded and retreated into his room.

“You don’t have to be so stern with him.” Fiona knelt down to help Leelo with the laces of her knee-high boots. “He’s a good boy.”