I rubbed my eyes as the sun started to tint the sky a vivid orange above the trees. A soft wind stirred the damp summer air.

  The fire had gone out, leaving nothing but coals and ash. The forest was quiet, no sounds of any patrol.

  I straightened and stretched, yawning. I had fallen asleep sitting on the ground, leaning against the stone seat I had sat on the night before, wrapped in one of the blankets I had brought. It was a metallic one that folded up small and crinkled with every move like food wrappers. Ronan was curled into a ball across from me, in the little cave. He had covered himself in his blanket, the same kind as mine.

  I must have fallen asleep after him. Allan and Elspeth probably left not long after, assuming people would continue to pass through the camp. And perhaps they did, and I had not woken up.

  It's still early morning. We should have plenty of time to get back, clean up, and go to breakfast.

  I glanced back at Ronan. He resembled a shiny silver lump more than a person. If I studied him carefully, though, I could see the blanket rise and fall with his breaths.

  If he's sleeping peacefully, I probably shouldn't wake him up. I can wait a while longer.

  I let my gaze settle on Ronan, eyes half closed, and tried to pick out the sound of his breathing through the rustle of his blanket. A training exercise, to help differentiate sounds in chaotic and loud areas.

  The small sounds seemed to grow louder as I focused on them, filling my ears. As I listened, I could hear his breaths grow faster, the blanket rustling more. The clearing seemed to grow darker with each passing second as my heart beat in my ears. Everything was too sharp, too strong, too loud. I wanted to clap my hands over my ears, to cover my face as the lingering scent of campfire smoke burned my nostrils and made my eyes water. But I couldn't move, couldn't speak. Only my mind remained active as darkness and shadows threatened to swallow me. Was I under attack? Going crazy?

  I jumped as Ronan sat up straight, throwing the blanket away from him. There was a wild light in his eyes as he gasped for air, as if he had been running hard. His hair stuck out in all directions, and lines had been pressed into his cheek from laying partially under a rumpled blanket.

  My mind seemed to retreat as I stood, the sounds quieting, the color returning to my vision. The motion felt somehow both strange and natural. Like my mind didn't know what I was doing, but something else in me did.

  The last of the shadows dispersed. Ronan stared at me, a dazed expression in his eyes.

  I stepped toward him, around the fire pit. A weed growing near where I stood stretched out. It wrapped around my feet, caressing my ankles.

  I jumped back, a screech of shock leaving me before I could think.

  What was that?

  The trees rustled, as if laughing at me.

  There was no wind. The trees were rustling without any wind.

  We need to leave.

  The realization slammed into me, every warning signal in my mind screaming as I turned and grabbed my bag and blanket. Ronan stood, his blanket in hand, staring at the trees.

  Moss crept over the boulder, reaching out to touch him.

  "We're leaving now," I said, heart pounding in my ears as I hopped over the fire pit and grabbed Ronan's arm.

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  I dragged Ronan forward. He stumbled back when the grass began to wrap around his feet, then launched into action. We darted into the forest.

  It's a mile and a half hike back to the village. With the forest like this though...

  "We'll go through a fairy circle," I decided.

  "What?" Ronan asked, staring at me as if I was crazy.

  I made a sharp turn, Ronan practically stepping on my heels as I slowed to a brisk walk. Branches of trees and bushes alike reached out, brushing against us. Ferns and other forest floor vegetation rubbed against our ankles, preventing me from running.

  "You took one to the camp," I pointed out, whacking a branch that got near my face.

  Ronan muttered something under his breath, the words lost in the rustle of plants. "With a guide that was very well trained and knowledgeable."

  I glared at Ronan as we reached the fairy circle, the mushrooms and flowers that made it up stretching toward us as we grew closer.

  "Don't make a sound and don't let go of my hand."

  "Don't we need iron or something?"

  "Not if they don't hear us."

  I grabbed Ronan's hand and stepped into the fairy circle, yanking him across the threshold when he hesitated, a mulish expression on his face.

  The ground fell away beneath us, and we were falling. Small lights floated around us, chattering softly to each other in a strange, twisted tongue.

  I closed my eyes, letting the invisible paths around us brush against my mind until I found the one I wanted. When I did, I latched onto it.

  We slid down the path, landing with a jolt that made my teeth ache. The fay realm faded away, revealing Sherwood once more.

  I dragged Ronan out of the fairy circle, then dropped his hand and set off into the woods.

  "Where are we?" Ronan asked as he followed me.

  "The closest fairy circle to Sherwood. The one they took you through."

  I burst out of the forest, approaching the walls of Sherwood Village. The gates had been propped open with large stones the guards used as chairs as they chatted away.

  I glanced behind me. The branches, the ferns, the grasses reached out at Ronan and me. I could almost hear their cries through the rustling and creaking.

  Ronan took off toward the gate. I followed close behind, letting him lead me across the square, still quiet in the early morning.

  We stopped at one of the campfires. I collapsed on one of the log benches, letting my bag fall to the ground with a thump.

  Ronan paced back and forth on the other side of the fire pit, glancing nervously at the gate and the forest beyond.

  "What was that?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  I took a deep, shaking breath as I rubbed my temples. "I don't know. Maybe—"

  "Have you always had that scar on your face?"

  I frowned up at Ronan, who had stopped pacing. "What scar? Like yours?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You have a scar on the right side of your face," I said slowly, "a scar that's very faint, but looks like the cycles of the moon. It starts a bit above your ear, right next to your hairline, and curves down, to just below your ear."

  A scar I don't remember noticing before now...

  Ronan touched the right side of his face, then pulled his hair back so I could see his ear clearly.

  My eyes widened as I studied the tip of his ear, which came to a small but definite point.

  Ronan felt the tip of his ear, his face turning ashen when he felt the point.

  I dug through the pockets of my bag, fishing out a small compact mirror and opening it with a snap. I angled it to look at my own right ear, pulling my hair back to see. A faint scar, like Ronan's, wrapped around my ear in a half-circle. A vine with eight leaves, simplistic as Ronan's scar, but definitely very new. With shaking hands, I pulled my hair back farther and tilted my head. My ear also had a small but definite point.

  I dropped the mirror, which snapped closed with an almost painful clack when it hit the dirt.

  "What... How?" I asked, my voice breathy and unsteady.

  The world seemed to fall away from me, as if I was floating, untethered.

  "What is happening to us?" Ronan asked as he picked up the mirror I had dropped and studied his reflection.

  "Only one kind of creature has pointed ears," I whispered, my mind whirling.

  "Who?" Ronan asked, too calm.

  "Fey."