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to ask for help?”

This time it was Peter and Mags who exchanged a look. “Oh, I know it,” Mags breathed, lifting her chin and folding her arms over her chest.

Peter’s voice was the firmest Poppy had ever heard it. “Mags keeps all her promises. Everyone knows better than to break their word to her.”

Hope stung her heart. With Mags and Peter’s help they could find her parents faster … and Poppy knew what it was like to have questions. If that was their price, she would gladly pay it. Knowledge is the enemy of fear. Her father had written those words in the margins of his journal—more than once—as if it were a prayer, or a reminder.

Poppy held out her hand to Mags. “We’ll see you here in two hours when Strange Hollow has settled for the night. But keep it quiet. If anyone follows you that shouldn’t, we might have to run again, and then our deal is off.”

Mags nodded solemnly. “I promise.”

Mack leaned forward. “If you’re lucky, our other friend will come too. She’s a pooka.”

Peter’s jaw dropped and Mags dragged him away at a run.

Poppy glared at him. “Why did you say that? Nula’s not here anymore—and we don’t need her.”

“Oh come on, Poppy. We need all the help we can get. And Nula wants to make up for what she’s done.”

“But—”

“Anyway,” Mack insisted. “When I talked to Nula before … I told her not to give up. I told her she should stay close. She said she’d camp out just past the standing stone at the edge of the Grimwood.”

“You did what?”

Mack’s cheeks flushed. “She’s our friend, Poppy. It’s not like we have dozens of those lying around—that we can just stay angry at when they make a mistake.”

“A mistake that cost me Dog.”

His hand dropped onto her shoulder. “I miss them too, but in the end, it was your bargain … not Nula’s.”

Poppy’s stomach turned. “Are you saying it’s my fault the Faery Queen took Dog?”

“I’m saying it’s not anyone’s fault but the Faery Queen’s.” He paused. “Mistakes were made. All that means is that we need each other more than ever.”

Poppy chewed the inside of her cheek. When she tasted blood, she relented. “Fine. Let’s go get her.”

Mack’s smile almost made the decision worthwhile. His whole face lit up. “Good,” he said.

Poppy gave him a look, but followed it with an eye roll, so Mack knew she wasn’t really angry. She hated to admit it, but she missed Nula. The pain of losing Dog hadn’t made her miss Nula less. Plus, the pooka was crafty, and she could use her help. Especially now. Whatever the governor had up his sleeve, she didn’t think he would wait long. They had to find her parents now.

Dusk was falling and the Grimwood was shifting into shadow, but Poppy could make out Nula’s silhouette beyond the tall stone that marked the wood’s boundary. If she turned a little more and looked up the sloping hills of the meadow, she could see the lines of her house, the sun golden in the small front windows, and across the windows of her tower. She blinked and looked away. Hopefully Jute would get back soon. It wasn’t home without him.

Mack lifted his hand, and Nula stepped out of the shadows, smiling. Poppy and Mack stepped past the stone and into the forest to join her.

There was a strange spinning sensation, and the temperature dropped. Goose bumps broke out all over Poppy’s skin. She tried to make sense of what she was seeing as she looked around, and the goose bumps broke out a second time. They were in a wide clearing that hadn’t been there a moment before. Nula was nowhere to be found.

Poppy spun around to stare at Mack, but he looked as perplexed as she felt. “Where are we?” she asked. There was no sign of the meadow, no flower-covered hillside, no hint of her house.

Mack looked around wildly, then froze.

Poppy followed his gaze. He was staring at the standing stone. It was the only thing vaguely familiar about their surroundings.

“The stone,” she breathed. “So … was Nula … Nula was right! The stones really can take you to other parts of the forest.”

The carvings on this stone were different. It had spirals, while the other was covered in small concave circles.

Mack reached out one hand as if he would touch it, but pulled back at the last moment. “But where are we?” He looked around, trying to get his bearings. “Where did it take us? And why?”

His words echoed in Poppy’s head. She could see the whites of his eyes, and seeing Mack look frightened raised the hair on the back of her neck. There must be a reason they’d ended up here, but the chances of it being a good reason … well, they weren’t high.

Dusk was over, and darkness had fallen in this place—as if they had moved not just through the wood, but through time too. The glowing silhouettes of tall white birches surrounded the clearing. Fireflies filled the gloom. Their flickers filled the air with a soft glow and unexpected brightness.

Mack took a few steps ahead and looked back again. “Do you have anything with you? Any salt? Anything to form a barrier.”

Poppy shook her head. “My pack is in the meadow.” She swallowed. “You?”

“We should go. Now. Head toward the outer edge of the Grimwood and whatever Hollow is on the other side.”

Poppy shivered. The idea that Mack didn’t know where they were made her brain hurt. It was like trying to imagine the sea wasn’t wet, and suddenly all she wanted was to get out of the wood.

They hurried into the trees beyond the clearing, back toward where they should have been all along. Poppy trusted Mack’s instincts to lead them toward home.

“Don’t go!” a soft voice cried out, drifting over the boggy grass. “Please! Wait!”

Poppy spun.

“No! Just leave it, Poppy. It’s dark. You can’t trust anything now.”

“Help me, child. I beg you. Help me!”

“Mack, someone needs our

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