The wolves appeared, growling.

“Now, let them in, Ani. They are a part of you.”

“No. I’m the daughter of the Dark Court, so I dream of the Hunt.” Ani watched the wolves solidify all around her. “They are dreams. I dream of the Hunt… but I don’t belong there. I don’t belong anywhere.”

“You do belong. This is the New Hunt, Ani.” Rae stayed away from the wolves. “Now that you’ve seen him again, everything will change.”

One by one, the wolves dove into Ani’s chest. They disappeared into her body as they had so many times before. It was an odd sensation, the fur and muscle entering her dream self.

“What are you, Rae?” Ani felt herself growling, felt the wolves inside of her snarling.

The wolves matter. Not Rae.

She pushed away the confusion of Rae’s words and let the sensation of wolves overwhelm her. They wanted her in their pack. She belonged.

If only I could take them to the waking world…

Rae returned to Faerie, to the cave that was her home. Unfortunately, she wasn’t alone: the Eolas, the keepers of knowledge, were waiting. Rae shuddered. The Eolas had the ability to assure both endings and beginnings, to tie or to sever connections.

The three women glared at her. Each woman cycled through youth, adulthood, and seniority, as well as through species. On the left, a gray-skinned woman stood with her arms folded over her chest; in the middle, a transparent girl cocked her head assessingly; and on the right, a small leafy creature watched with no discernible expression.

“Do not interfere again—”

“—based on what you know—”

“—of what they are.” They each spoke a part of the sentence.

Rae squared her shoulders to hide the shakes that threatened her.

They moved closer in tandem, as if they were parts of one body. “No one knows their own future.”

“Not even him.”

“Especially not him.”

They all stepped back. Two retreated farther, so the translucent one stood in the forward point of their triangle. “We allowed you to know. That was more than fair exchange.”

“It’s not.” Rae fisted her hands.

“Your knowing saved the Hound’s life, and without her, he cannot become what he is to be.” The leafy one rustled with each word. “If you speak what you know, you will die, and he will fail.”

And they were gone again.

And I am not dead. For that, Rae was grateful.

The first time she’d met them had been after a day of experimenting. She and Devlin had not yet figured out the limits of possession and had spent the day in the cave. He was unconscious, and Rae—still inside him—saw a vision of a girl, Ani, whom he would be ordered to kill. Almost invisible threads wove Ani and Devlin’s lives together. In a disquieting moment, while Devlin was asleep and Rae was awake, she’d seen the cave wall vanish.

Three creatures stood in the cave.

“He’s not to know such things.”

As one of them extended her hand, the other two matched the movement. Thread spindled out from Devlin’s body, from the body that Rae was currently animating. It didn’t hurt, not truly, but it felt curious. In the center of her, she could feel the tug as the fibrous strands of the vision were guided out of flesh and into a seemingly bottomless basket.

“Stop,” she said.

They did. The fibers stretched between the basket and the body, suspended in the air.

“You are—”

“—not—”

“—him.” They each spoke part of the words, but the voice from each tongue was the same.

Rae didn’t answer. She reached a hand to the thread, feeling the truth in it, seeing the possibilities that Devlin hadn’t.

“That’s his future,” she whispered. “The Hound… he is to”—she looked at them—“kill. Does the High Queen know? When she orders the death…”

“He cannot know that you know,” one said.

The three exchanged a look. In perfect synchronicity, they nodded.

“You must never tell him—”

“—or her—”

“—what you know.”

Rae wasn’t sure what to say. These were the first creatures other than Devlin that she’d seen in Faerie—and they were nothing like him.

“Without you, he will fail—”

“—and if you tell either of them—”

“—you will die.” The three women smiled, and it was not a comforting smile.

“Silence or death?”

“His success or his loss?”

“Your cooperation or not?”

So Rae had made her choice. When Devlin woke, she’d stayed silent. Knowing his future was a gift and a burden.

Years later, she begged him to spare Ani. She’d threatened to return to her mortal body. She’d threatened to expose herself—and him—to Sorcha.

“You are hiding something from me.” Devlin faced her in the cave. “The Hound isn’t anyone to you.”

“She is,” Rae insisted. “I ask one thing. You promised me years ago that I could have three wishes. I asked to be allowed to share your flesh; I asked to be kept safe. This is the last I will ask of you.”

“You would ask me to disobey my queen? If she were to ever know…” Devlin crouched at Rae’s feet. “Don’t ask this of me, Rae.”

Rae stretched out her hands, laying them atop his as if she could truly touch him. “She matters more than I can tell you. I need you to do this one last thing.”

“Don’t ask me to be foresworn. My honor. My vows… Don’t ask this.”

“You promised me.” Rae felt tears slip down her cheeks. As insubstantial as she was, the tears vanished into air as they slid off her face. “Please, Devlin. This is my last wish.”

“I cannot keep my vow to you and to my queen.” He stood and looked down at her. “Don’t ask me to choose.”

She hated herself for doing the very thing that his sisters had done to him, but she lifted her gaze and said, “I am asking you to choose.”

After he left, they hadn’t spoken for months. He didn’t come to her, didn’t let her possess him. In time, he’d returned, but they’d never spoken of it without discord. She hated the secrecy, hated the Eolas for creating the conflict, and hated herself for not knowing a solution.

Without him, she would be alone in Faerie, ethereal without respite, never to have physical sensation again. She’d considered the possibility. It was impractical to ignore it.

Now the future that the High Queen had tried to stop was upon them, and Rae had to help assure that it came to pass as it was meant to be.

Without violating the Eolas’ restriction.

With a fear she couldn’t repress, Rae closed her eyes and let herself drift toward Devlin. She’d never told him she could visit dreams in the mortal world. Aside from Ani’s dreams, she hadn’t done so, but she could find Devlin anywhere. Following his threads was how she’d found Ani that first time: his emotions had cried out at the thought of killing Ani, at the choice Rae had foisted upon him. Without meaning to, Rae had gone to him, racing over some whisper-thin trail she hadn’t known existed, but had been too afraid to slip into his mind. His rejection would be only slightly less awful than his death. Either would mean losing him.