Kit barely slept that night. She kept thinking about the crow's words, about the choice that wasn't really a choice at all. Let the world die or give up her freedom. What kind of ancestor would make such a deal in the first place?

  But as dawn broke and Kit watched the mist rise from the forest floor, she thought she understood. Madeleine Lapierre had been desperate, hunted, facing death. She'd made a devil's bargain to survive. And now, three hundred years later, Kit was paying the price.

  She spent the day exploring the forest, letting her feet carry her where they would. The journal had mentioned several significant locations: the Heart Tree where the binding took place, the Standing Stones that marked the boundaries of the compact, the Deep Pool where the first guardians had met with the fae lords.

  Kit found them all, guided by that strange pull in her chest that had grown stronger throughout the day. The forest seemed to be teaching her, showing her the lay of the land, the places of power. She met other creatures too—a fox with too many tails, a woman made of bark and moss who nodded solemnly as Kit passed, a stag whose antlers seemed to branch into infinity.

  They all watched her with knowing eyes. They all seemed to be waiting.

  As night fell, Kit made her way to the Heart Wood. The journal had included a crude map, but she didn't need it. The pull was like a compass now, drawing her toward the center of the forest where the oldest trees grew.

  The Heart Tree stood in a clearing that seemed to exist outside normal space. It was massive, easily fifty feet across at the base, its branches spreading to form a canopy that blotted out the stars. But what drew Kit's attention was the hollow in its trunk—a space large enough to walk into, lined with symbols that glowed with a soft, silvery light.

  The crow was waiting on a low branch. So was something else—a figure that seemed to be made of shadows and starlight, neither fully present nor entirely absent.

  'Kit Lapierre,' the figure said in a voice like wind through leaves. 'Last of the guardian line. Do you come to renew the compact?'

  Kit looked at the figure, at the crow, at the massive tree with its glowing hollow. She thought about her life in the city, her job, her friends, all the things she'd be giving up. She thought about her grandfather, spending seventy years alone in these woods, keeping watch over something most people didn't even believe in.

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  She thought about the Hollow King and what would happen if she refused.

  'I have questions first,' Kit said. 'How did you know the Hollow King would be a threat in the first place?'

  The shadow-figure rippled. 'Because he was one of us once. A guardian of the forest, like we are. But he became obsessed with the idea of perfection—a world without decay, without change, without the messy chaos of life. He sought to hollow everything out, to create a realm of eternal stillness. We imprisoned him, but the prison requires maintenance. That is the compact.'

  'And if I refuse?'

  'The prison weakens. Within a year, it fails entirely. The Hollow King escapes and begins his work again. Nothing can stop him once he's free—not us, not your human weapons, nothing. He is entropy incarnate, the end of all things.'

  'And if I agree? What exactly am I signing up for?'

  'You become the forest's anchor. You'll age slowly—perhaps one year for every ten that pass. You'll be able to sense threats to the forest, to speak with its creatures, to call upon its power in times of need. But you must stay close to the Heart Wood. Venture too far, and the binding weakens. Leave permanently, and it breaks.'

  'So I'm a prisoner.'

  'You're a guardian. There's a difference.'

  Kit stood in silence for a long moment. Then she stepped forward, toward the hollow in the Heart Tree.

  'What do I do?' she asked.

  The shadow-figure moved closer, and Kit could see now that it wasn't a single being but many, their forms overlapping and intertwining. The fae lords, she realized. The guardians of the forest.

  'Place your hands on the heartwood,' they said. 'Speak the words written in the hollow. The rest will follow.'

  Kit entered the hollow, which was surprisingly warm and smelled of earth and growing things. The glowing symbols formed words in a language she didn't know but somehow understood:

  Kit placed her hands on the heartwood and spoke the words.

  The world exploded.

  Kit felt the forest rush into her, a torrent of sensation and knowledge and raw power that threatened to overwhelm her completely. She felt every tree, every stream, every living thing within miles of the Heart Wood. She felt the boundaries of the compact, marked by ancient stones and older magic. She felt the prison at the center of it all, a knot of binding force wrapped around something vast and terrible and hungry.

  And she felt the Hollow King.

  He was aware of her, she realized with horror. Aware and watching and patient. He'd been waiting a long time. He could wait a little longer.

  Kit gasped and pulled back, her hands leaving the heartwood. She collapsed to her knees, trembling.

  'It's done,' the shadow-figures said. 'You are bound, Kit Lapierre. Welcome to your inheritance.'

  Kit looked down at her hands and saw that the veins beneath her skin glowed faintly with the same silvery light as the symbols on the tree. She could feel the forest breathing around her, in her, through her.

  She was the guardian now. For better or worse, until the end of her days or the end of the compact.

  She just hoped she was strong enough for what was coming.

  Author's Note:

  Shadow of the Forest updates every Saturday.