and tenses for the iron. Her face is serene, probably way more than

mine must have been. Then she moves on to the old woman, who presses

the red powder into her shoulder. When it comes away, I can see the

design. It’s the same as Yara’s-a circle with an undulating line going

through it. At first I think it’s a snake, but on second thought, I

realize it’s a river.

Then it’s Brendan’s turn. He doesn’t even flinch! His red hair is

tied back at his nape. He winks a turquoise eye at me. Show-off.

Finally Dylan, who cries out once, then falls on his knee at the

oracle’s feet. His golden hair sweeps across his face. The mark burns

just above the pearly scar left by the Naga’s claw.

The four of us stand shoulder to shoulder. Isi talks about how

brave we are, how much she’s seen all four of us grow and become part

of their people. I’ll never graduate at the top of my class, and I

might not know much about the world I’ve become part of, but I’d like

to think I know how to read people. And as much as Isi means some of

what she says, I can’t shake the thought that she’s doing it to keep

me at ease.

The training, the tattoo, everything they’ve done to accommodate

us-it’s not working on me. My eyes keep wandering to the black outline

of the forest. The guards aren’t in their usual formation. They’re

scattered around the feast, their weapons leaning against the wooden

dais, but their attention is on the clan’s daughters who form a circle

around the fire. Their faces shimmer in the reflection of the flames,

their hair as green as the forest, white as the river, purple as the

apples on the goddess tree, black as the shadow of the woods. They

dance the song of the river, a movement that mimics the stream, and

their bodies flow, translucent, then fluid, then solid.

Brendan holds the purple apple between his hands and smells it. He

looks at me and tucks it under his seat.

“This is kind of them,” Brendan says, “to take the time to honor

us.”

“Honor me,” I correct him.

His turquoise eyes dance with the kind of happiness that comes

from timeless days of swimming and eating and kissing girls. But

still, his shoulders are tense because no matter what face this

paradise shows us, he has to be ready in case it changes. Even though

my time with Brendan has been short, we really get each other, like

we’ve been swimming side by side our whole lives.

“You can have the honor,” Brendan says. “We both know I’m more

irresistible. All eyes will be on me. You can count on that.”

A sound I haven’t heard before in the Vale joins the music.

Laughter.

Yara was right-the kids do eat the goddess fruit. They gobble it

up, the sticky, sweet liquid dripping from the corners of their

mouths.

Sure, I’ve seen the river kids laugh. But not like this-it’s full

of happiness, like there is no darkness in the woods, no monster on

the outside. They dance around the fire. They grab Kai and Brendan and

Dylan into their circle. They try to pull me up. “Join, Tristan. Come

on.” But I’ve never been much of a dancer. Kai shoots me a glare that

says, “Get up.” So I do, but I’m going through the motions.

My eyes keep going to the edge of the forest where a shadow is

bothering me. Everyone is so wrapped up in the dancing and welcoming

us into the tribe. But I’m not here to dance.

Brendan catches my eye and holds it. He’s smiling, but it’s a

show, and he’s the star of it-dancing and singing along to words he

doesn’t know the meaning of. Then he nods at me once and turns his

back. He goes into a freestyle break dance, challenging the guys to

join him. As promised, all eyes are on him.

I keep along the shadows and return to my tent. I wash my face in

the basin of cool water. I strap on my weapons and look at my

elongated reflection. There I am. I can wait until Isi decides to let

me go, or I can take matters into my own hands. As crazy as it sounds,

I don’t think she wants me to go out there.

And so I slink through the trees, stopping at the edge of the

forest where I’ve seen Isi stand once everyone’s gone to sleep. I look

over my shoulder at the feast. They’re still reveling in the night,

the music, the sizzle of branded skin.

Then I see her, the veiled oracle. She stares at me from the

distance. I feel caught, so I freeze. But she lifts the veil over her

face, uncovering those endless black eyes. She turns away, like she

understands what I’m doing. Like she’s sending me along when the

others were pulling me back. I face the forest again and step onto the

path.

In the dark, there isn’t a path.

I trip and bang into the black tree trunks like a pinball. Each

time we’ve come into the forest, Grumble has been careful to lead me

west. So I go east. On the way here, the first time when Yara

blindfolded us, I smelled the temperature shift, the dew in the air,

and the sweet bioluminescent blooms. The water is a thin stream with

glass lizards clinging to the rocks. Lights pop up like tiny eyes

blinking. Wings flap, tongues hiss, and beaks caw in a chattering that

would rival Times Square.

And then it stops, leaving my loud steps bumping in the dark. I

see the mouth of a cave, and by the way my skin crawls, I know this is

the Naga’s home. Fireflies hover above the entrance, and the purple

moon is a fat bulb behind the silhouettes of branches that remind me

of bones. My heart races as adrenaline rushes through me. The sweet

stink of decaying flesh is too familiar, and I take a step back.

Rule number six: There is no going back.

I think about calling the beast out. Throwing some rocks in there

like I’m Romeo and she’s a hairy Juliet. That plan still ends with

someone getting stabbed.

I don’t hear the groan behind me until the Naga leaps at me and I

run right into the cave.

Rule number seven: Don’t run into caves.

There is no exit that I can see. The creature is bigger than I

remember. Its snout snarls hot breath.

Rule number eight: Don’t get bitten.

The B flat of the dragon-bird rings out from the cave ceiling. It

swoops down and tries to peck at my hand.

“No one said anything about a tag team,” I say.

I’ve made a mistake in coming here. Maybe Isi was right. Maybe she

wasn’t stalling. Maybe I’m just not ready.

I turn around to face the Naga and she moves back, crouched down

to the ground. I see her eyes glowing in the dark. The rough reptilian

skin. The powerful claws. The seaserpent tail undulating behind it.

The Naga opens her mouth and roars, a great scream that carries the

lives the beast has taken. The force pushes me against the wall. I

roll to the side and pull myself up, shaking the headache away.

I jump on the boulders, using them as a ladder to get to a flat

platform where the cave expands like a great dome. I can’t see the

Naga, but I can hear the talons scratching the stone as she climbs.

Nobody said she could do that.

I picture those talons digging inside me, swirling my guts around

like a cherry in a cocktail. She jumps at me and I roll to the side, a

move I learned from watching Dylan. It takes a lot of patience to wait

for the perfect moment to get out of the way, knowing that if it’s too

soon, she’ll have time to recover. If it’s too late, then she gets me.

It feels like an out-of-body experience, but that’s what Karel taught

me, wasn’t it? To push all of my doubts out of my head. Doubts gets me