Leif shouted my name through the heavy sounds of the hounds he was defeating. Still, I knew he wouldn’t reach me in time—I pushed past my own terror and flagging strength and grabbed hold of the hound’s mind. The hound’s teeth snapped closer; the muscles in my arms screamed with the effort of keeping it from tearing into my throat.
I forced the creature to stop in its efforts to kill me just as a flurry of beating wings rang out over the quiet wood.
Six ravens, as big as eagles, flew low over the heads of the hounds. They landed on the branches above us, watching with dark, intelligent eyes. The hounds glanced back at the stag, as though suddenly unsure.
Taking advantage of the hounds’ momentary distraction, Leif raced to my side and cleaved the menacing hound in two. Spraying me with blood, the two halves sank wetly to either side of me. Leif kicked the hound away from me and spat on the ground. He hauled me to my feet. Deep scratches covered his arms, but he appeared whole.
A crow’s caw drew our attention to the sky, where it circled far above us. It tucked its wings and dived. Just before it crashed into the ground, it transformed—but only partially. It was the body of a woman clad all in black except for her head, which was still that of a crow with its inky-black feathers and sharp beak: the Morrigan
It turned its gaze toward me, its eyes red. Beside me, even Leif looked suddenly unsure, his grip on the sword so tight his knuckles were pale.
The stag lowered its antlers and pawed the earth, but when it raised its head again, its dark eyes were anxious.
The Morrigan shot forward, as fast as a viper, and sank each hand into the chest of a hound. With a sickeningly wet sound, she pulled out their hearts. It happened so fast the beasts fell over dead without a sound.
I trembled as the blood dripped down her arms, so red against her pale white skin. Holding the hearts before her, she tore into each organ with her crow’s beak, spraying blood until I was sure I would be sick. The stag seemed frozen in place—whether from fear or shock, I didn’t know.
“I will feast on all their hearts,” the Morrigan said. The voice was harsh and distorted and struck such fear in me I could not move.
The stag let out a breathy, distressed sound. If the two beings were conversing, it was a conversation we weren’t privy to. I risked a glance at Leif. His every muscle was tense, his face pale.
Suddenly, the stag turned toward Leif and lowered its antlers. Leif raised the broadsword.
My whole body stiffened. Not him, I thought, surprising myself at my own vehemence.
Forgotten and silent until now, the ravens shifted in their branches, talons scraping across the wood ominously. All at once, the temperature in the forest dropped. Our breaths made plumes before us.
The Morrigan glanced up at the ravens before leveling her gaze on the stag. The meaning was clear: whoever the ravens were, they were on our side.
The hounds retreated to the stag’s side. The ghostly white animal bowed its head just once before bounding away, hideous hounds following.
The Morrigan turned back to us. Her bloodred eyes met mine before black feathers erupted over the entirety of her body. A caw broke the air as she transformed back into a crow and took flight. With a heavy rustling of wings, the ravens followed, until only Sleipnir, Leif, and I remained.
With an explosive exhalation of breath, my knees buckled, and I sank to the ground.
A warm hand touched my shoulder, so steady that I realized I was shaking violently. “They’re gone,” Leif said, his voice more gentle than I had ever heard it. “Come, let me help you.”
I held out my tremulous hands to him, and he pulled me to my feet. “Did you hear what she said before? About the giants? The j?tnar are already here. That must have been why we encountered the each-uisce.” We started to walk toward Sleipnir, but when I stumbled, Leif glanced down at me in alarm.
“How badly are you hurt?” Leif asked, true concern there instead of his usual sarcasm.
“I’ll live,” I said, gingerly touching the back of my head. When my fingertips came away with bright red blood, I felt the color drain from my face.
Leif gently examined it. “Head wounds always bleed horribly. How do you feel? If it feels like you’re about to lose the contents of your stomach and everything around you is tilting like a ship in storm-tossed waters, then we shouldn’t waste any time getting you to a healer.”
I glanced around me, suddenly noticing the darkness. “Am I losing my vision, or has night fallen?”
Leif’s fingers dropped away from my head as he looked at the bright moon above us. “No, it’s not your vision. It appears to be the middle of the night, even though it was early afternoon when we entered that forest.”
I shook my head and then winced. “It’s the Faerie Tunnel. I’ve never been caught in one, but I know what they say: it’s a realm between realms. Time is measured differently there. It may not even be the same day as it was when we entered.”
Leif took a step back in alarm. “So we have lost days instead of hours?”
“It’s possible,” I mumbled, feeling suddenly like I needed to sit down.
“We should continue to Dyflin if you feel able—it’s the only way we’ll find a healer,” Leif said.
The next moment, I was astride Sleipnir, lifted into the air by Leif. If I hadn’t been so dazed, I would have remembered to be indignant for being treated like a helpless maiden. But even with such gentle treatment, my head pounded. The trees around me tilted, and I gripped Sleipnir’s mane. Leif settled in behind me, only one hand on the reins, the other wrapped securely around my abdomen. I did nothing to discourage him; in fact, I leaned back against him, unable to help myself.
“You can trust me to keep you on this horse,” he said softly. “Don’t waste your strength trying to hold yourself upright.”
Sleipnir shot forward eagerly, desperate to leave the macabre forest. A wide path appeared, guiding our way. In only a few strides, the trees disappeared, and rocky, green meadows lay before us. Each beat of Sleipnir’s hooves brought terrible pain, which quickly spread throughout my body until I was shaking. As my vision blurred, I lost the fragile hold I had on my consciousness.
But even as the blackness swallowed me, I saw things in a dreamlike state. The world around me was hazy. Though I still made out Sleipnir and the rocky meadow beyond, it was through a mist that I viewed them. All color had been leached from the scene around me, and a terrible wind buffeted my ears such that no other sounds could penetrate.
With a terrible jolt of surprise, I realized that while my body remained astride Sleipnir, I could see my still form leaning against Leif. Without color, Leif and I were in shades of black and white, even in the bright light of the moon. Was this a vision, then? Or some hallucination brought on by the shock my body had endured?
Was I dead?
But no, I watched as my chest rose and fell. The moment I focused on my body, I saw a bright red spot amid all the black and white—a pulsing thing that glowed with vitality. It was where my heart was, and as I shifted my gaze to Leif, I realized he had the same.
I watched as Leif pulled Sleipnir to a halt and gently shook my shoulders. I could feel the pull on whatever form I’d taken now—an insistent tugging that seemed to come from my very core. I closed my eyes against the increasingly uncomfortable sensation . . . and opened them to the world full of color again.
Leif let out an explosive breath. I blinked slowly at him, still dazed. He had me draped across his lap so that I was looking directly into his eyes. His face was twisted into some expression I couldn’t yet name, but once my mind cleared, I realized what it was. He was concerned for me.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said.