Jeremy shook his head. “No. We ready?”

A story came back to Rafe, an old story he’d heard in church as a kid. The story went like this: A town suffered a terrible drought. The drought grew so bad that the church pastor called for everyone to come together to pray for rain. No one came. No one believed. Then he saw a girl walking up the church stairs carrying an umbrella.

The girl had an umbrella because she knew it would rain.

And Jeremy had a sword.

You don’t bring a sword into a park unless you think you will need a sword. And if Jeremy thought he needed his sword in the Crow, either he was crazy or…

Something was out there.

“Rafe?” Jeremy’s voice broke through his trance.

“What?” Rafe asked.

“You all right?”

He wasn’t. He absolutely was not all right. Something stirred in his blood. He looked around him, saw the peaks and slopes of the forest hills, deep and dark. When he was a little kid, those hills had fascinated him, frightened him. He’d gotten into his head those rolling hills were sleeping giants covered in thick green animal pelts, giants who’d wake one day and take the world back for themselves. He’d outgrown his fear of them, of course. Now it was back.

Jeremy put his hand on Rafe’s shoulder, stopping his trembling like a finger on a tuning fork.

“Something’s happening,” Rafe said. “I…” He rubbed his face. “What’s happening?”

“Time to go.”

He took a deep breath. “What do I do?”

“Just walk,” Jeremy said.

Emilie said, “Where?”

But Rafe already knew the answer. He pointed to a trail. “There.”

They walked across the parking lot to the start of the path. Rafe hesitated only a second before he stepped off the pavement and onto the soft brown dirt of the forest floor. He stood still, very still, as he felt something like electricity begin to course through his feet.

He took another step forward. Red and gold leaves skittered across the path in front of him. The dark forest beckoned like the song of the Pied Piper.

Emilie crept forward, peered down the trail and then back at Jeremy.

“What’s out there?” she asked. “Something’s out there. I thought—”

“What?” Jeremy asked. Rafe looked at her. Was she feeling the same strange pull he felt?

“I thought I heard someone call my name,” she said.

Jeremy smiled. “Better go and answer them.”

Chapter Fifteen

The wind was cold and rain dampened her clothes, but Emilie didn’t complain. She didn’t know what lay ahead of them, only that if she wanted to find her sister, she would have to go there. So she went along, like a needle in a record’s groove. They hiked in near silence for nearly an hour until Rafe came to a stop for seemingly no reason.

“What’s wrong?” she said, her voice hushed as if they were doing something more dangerous than had ever been done before.

“We go here.” Rafe pointed to a narrow dirt path off the trail.

“That’s it,” Jeremy said. “That’s the way to the Goblin Falls. I remember coming this far.”

They stepped off the trail and made their way down the path. Rafe led. She followed. Jeremy brought up the rear, even catching her once when she stumbled over a tree root.

“You all right?” he asked as he put her back on her feet.

“Terrified and happy. I don’t know why.”

He smiled. “I do. Keep going, Princess.”

Where Rafe was leading them, she had no idea. He didn’t seem to either, only that he followed his nose or his feet or his gut. They passed the Goblin Falls, a small rock formation where water trickled gently over the sides, and kept going and going, until they reached a steep hill. It seemed there was no way up, but Rafe wasn’t deterred. He led them around the base until he found a hidden path, maybe a deer trail or something, that zigzagged up the hillside.

Carefully, the three of them made their way higher, higher, and finally, a few yards ahead was another, even higher ridge. Rafe went up and over it first, then turned around and reached out his hand for her. Behind her, Jeremy held her steady while she took Rafe’s hand. He pulled her up, and she scrambled over to a plateau. Jeremy came last, but they all made it.

After pausing to catch her breath, Emilie stood up, looking around.

“Weird,” she breathed.

Rafe nodded. “Very, very weird.”

Here, the trees seemed older to Emilie, larger, thicker, taller. She saw enormous maple trees and oaks with bent and twisting branches. A sacred grove. That’s what this place was. She almost expected to see druids in white robes. Bonfires. Chanting. Ancient magic.

And in the center of the grove stood a strange tree. The tree seemed to rise forever, spread forever, the emperor of all trees. The trunk was as wide as a small car, with a hollow in it like the mouth of a screaming ghost. Or a door.

“God…” Rafe breathed, not saying the word like an oath but a prayer.

“Jeremy?” Emilie said. Her voice shook. “What’s happening?”

She turned and found him standing under the emperor tree, gazing up at a branch.

“Look,” he said.

A bird perched on that branch, scarlet as a cardinal, big as an eagle. But it wasn’t a cardinal or an eagle, but a bird she’d never seen before.

“That’s a crow,” Rafe said. “That can’t be a crow.”

Emilie didn’t know much about crows but knew they didn’t come in red. She covered her mouth with her hands.

“No way,” Rafe said. “That’s…that’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” Jeremy said quietly. A wild wind rose and whipped their clothes, their hair. Emilie stared into the hollow of the tree. It beckoned her.

Above their heads, the red crow spread its great crimson wings and took flight.