Winterwood

The trees moan around us, and I turn in a circle, trying to orient myself—to see which direction will lead us back to the entrance of the woods. But none of it’s familiar. The landscape has changed, the woods playing tricks. The path we took from the edge of the forest is no longer there. It’s been wiped away or hidden, or a tree has re-rooted in its place.

If Fin were here, he would know the way out, sense it, his nose to the soil would lead us home. My head begins to thrum and the forest grows darker—any speck of light through the treetops squeezed out.

A low, wailing hiss sails through the lower limbs, like the forest is baring its teeth, snarling.

Suzy hears it too, and she stops scanning the ground. She looks at me, then stands. “What’s happening?” she asks, inching closer to me.

“We have to get out of here,” I say softly. “Or we might not get out at all.”

Lin makes a sudden noise to our left. “Shit!” he says, scrambling toward us, dropping a collection of silver trinkets that hit the ground with a clank. “Something grabbed me.” He jumps up and down and wipes at his foot, like he’s still trying to shake it off. “A fucking tree root or something.” He moves into the center of the group, twitching, slapping at his legs.

“Maybe we should head back,” Jasper suggests finally—the first smart thing he’s said.

Rhett nods. “We can come back during the day, when we can see. Oliver won’t be able to hide as easily.”

“I told you we should wait until morning,” Suzy mutters, shifting closer to me, the hiss around us growing louder. Trees lumbering near, crowding over us—closer, closer, closer. We’re running out of time. “I don’t like it in here,” Suzy whispers, and she reaches out and takes my hand. Squeezing. A branch brushes against her hair and she swats it away. “We need to go!” she shouts to the boys, to Rhett.

“Lead the way, witch girl,” Rhett says, waving a hand at me.

But I stare back at him blankly. I don’t know the way.

For the first time, I don’t know how to get out of here. “I don’t—” My voice breaks off. “I don’t know where we are,” I admit.

Jasper pushes a handful of found things into his coat pocket. “This place can’t be that big,” he says. “Just pick a direction.” And without waiting for anyone to answer, he starts off into the trees, shoving limbs aside.

“We don’t know if that’s the right way,” Suzy points out, eyebrows sloped down, worry etched into every line of her face.

“You don’t have a choice,” Rhett says, stepping behind Suzy and me, waving a hand forward. “Can’t let you go off to warn Oliver that we’re looking for him. So you’re coming with us.”

Suzy squeezes my hand tighter, and we fall into step behind Lin. Rhett behind us.

“We should stay together, anyway,” Suzy whispers.

But I’m not sure that will help. We’re louder as a group—the boys crash through the forest, snapping limbs beneath their feet, easily tracked. The forest doesn’t want us here. And the boys make it impossible to pass through unnoticed.

We might be forging deeper into the dark woods: a place I’ve never been, farther than I’ve ever trekked. Or maybe we will get lucky and find our way back out, emerging at the entrance. But luck doesn’t live inside these woods.

Whichever path we take, the forest knows we’re here.

Claws open wide, ready to pull us in.

“We’re lost,” Rhett barks at Jasper.

“I never said I knew the way out,” Jasper bemoans, swiveling to face Rhett.

We stop where a shallow channel carves through the terrain, a creek bed long ago dried up. There is hardly any snow here, the woods too dense.

“We never should have come in here,” Lin says, his voice sounding far off, as if the words came from the trees themselves, not his throat.

Suzy leans in close to me. Suddenly she wants nothing to do with Rhett. He led us out here, and now we’re deeper into the Wicker Woods than I’ve ever been, surrounded by land I’ve never seen, trees so wide they are like the swaying pillars of a catacomb. The Wicker Woods cultivate fear, the spellbook warns. They are architects of misfortune and mischief.

And now we’re moving deeper into the belly of the woods, a place we won’t return from. This is how people vanish. How five teenagers slip into a forest at night and are never seen again.

“Maybe we should stop here and wait until morning,” Jasper suggests, resting his shoulder against the broad trunk of a tree. “Then we’ll be able to see.”

“It’s too cold,” Suzy answers, voice breaking like she might cry. “We won’t make it that long.”