Chapter 4

The cold air stings in contact with my nostrils, my throat. Somehow, it's even colder here—a kind of bone-deep chill that sinks through my clothes. The feeble light of my phone is only good enough for the next two steps. I can't see the road behind me.

I must look like a drunk penguin waddling amid the trees. I've lived my whole life next to these woods, but I was told again and again to never enter them. That much is clear from how often I skid in the mud.

Good thoughts. Think of good things, Violet.

I shove my curly black hair out of my face as I summon the memories of cracking crème br?lée with the back of a spoon, the scent of fresh bread, and chocolate chip cookies still warm on my tongue.

Mm. Nope. None of them is good enough to distract me from this freezing misery.

I must have walked—more like skating in the mud—three minutes before I hiss out a curse. Damn it, I'm such an idiot. This is such a dumb idea.

And now I can't even call out for the baby without sounding like a cliche horror movie victim. I don't want to be one of those people who asks—who's there? when the monster makes a noise.

Opposite to my bravado back at the gas station, I avoid looking up. It's too dark to see anything in the distance and my mind will only conjure up images I don't need. Pricking up my ears, I chase the echo of the baby's wail.

I take a beat, closing my eyes as I catch my breath. With my hand propped to my waist, I frown, focusing on the sound. Where is it? Where is it coming from? I've been walking in a straight line into the woods, but it can't be much further. How would it be possible for us to hear it from across the road if it was too far off?

There's an obvious explanation. This forest is magic. I've been to other forests these past two years and none of them felt like this. None of them felt alive. Sentient even.

An owl hoots from up to the right. A poorwill calls from somewhere behind me. Just nature. The sounds of a living, breathing forest. Nothing that's going to hurt you. The underbrush scatters to my left with, possibly, definitely, deer mice.

Wings explode into a flutter behind me, and I jerk away and whirl back. The black body of a raven slashes through the trees before flying off. My heart is a frantic drumbeat and I press a hand on top of it.

"Shit." I watch as the raven disappears into the shadows. "At least it's not a monster."

Yet.

After the whole deal with the devil and personally meeting Krampus, I keep wondering what else?

The Devil's Mountain and the surrounding forest are magical. Wendigos roam these parts, and even Krampus has his own minions—fairies and elves. But I never had the nerve to ask Krampus for more details. He wasn't exactly talkative.

What else lives here? What other mythical creatures live just outside our reach? As I traveled, I used to wonder about that. About these creatures, their routine, and how they might relate to the other small towns near the mountain...

But that was Violet from the past, sitting in a cafe that charged six bucks for a mediocre iced coffee, and safe from becoming dinner. Here, reality hits differently. With my luck, I might stumble on one of the few creatures that eat human flesh.

Pushing aside the raven's jump scare, I stride onward. The cries crescendo, leading me to a clearing with a massive ash tree in the center. I pause and scan the area with my phone's flashlight.

The copse of trees protects from the rain, but it's still humid and cold. Mud and decaying leaves make every step dangerous. The air feels electrified. I glance up, waiting for lightning to strike. It doesn't, merely illuminating the sky and silhouetting the massive tree at the center.

The tree is wide, its bark etched by time. I approach slowly, but nothing comes out of the tall roots. Nothing even breathes in the clearing.

I circle the long roots, but there's no sign of any baby. My flashlight doesn't illuminate much, but it's enough to study the underbrush, thick with dead leaves. A gash down the middle of the bark shows a small nook in the tree. My heart jumps.

Is the baby inside?

I approach and bend at the waist, pointing the light at the tree. The flashlight blinks on and off. My shoulders stiffen.

For real? Is my phone going to give up now?

I glare at the screen, but it's back to normal with the light on. Clenching my teeth, I point it at the nook, but it's too dark to see inside. The sound of flapping wings meets the scraping of a branch and I look up.

The raven perches on one of the tallest branches, eyes glistening like obsidian. It cocks its head, glancing down at me.

A shiver gallops down my spine, sending goosebumps down my arms. The hairs on the back of my neck rise. It's the unmistakable sensation that something is about to happen.

I snap a glance behind me. It's a trap, isn't it? My gaze combs the trees.

There's nothing. My throat constricts and my head goes light. I take two steps away from the tree, aiming the light back the way I came. Nothing. The only thing that changes is that the cries diminish slightly.

There's no way. I whirl back to the tree and bend forward. The light fails once more, but the cries grow clearer.

Clenching my jaw, I let one knee rest on the wet ground and reach into the nook. My hand shakes as my fingers press over the soft earth. My phone goes off. Darkness covers me like a blindfold.

I jerk away, shooting to my feet and shaking with a shiver.

"What am I doing?" I hiss. A half-hysterical laugh spills from me. This is ridiculous.

The forest is magic.

This tree is devouring the light from my phone.

The baby is inside the massive tree.

I release a sigh, though my heart races. This is obvious now. There's no trap. It's nothing human.

This is one hundred percent something that would only happen in this forsaken forest. It is magic. And last time I was involved with magic, things took a south turn.

Verysouth. As in toward hell.

"Go back, Violet," I whisper to myself, my breath a visible mist in the humid air. "Just go back. This is probably a fae and they're going to kidnap you or whatever fae do."

The bus is still there. Maybe. I mean, it's just been... what? Ten minutes? Less? More?

I have no idea.

If I go back with my hands empty and the baby still calling out behind me, I'll be even more of a coward. There's always New Obernzell, sure, but my village is miles away—an eternity on foot with only the dying light of my phone to guide me there.

No. I have to find this child.

Glancing up, I stare at the raven. "That's going to sound weird," I say, my voice too loud in the forest"s quiet, "but I wish Krampus was here." At least he would know what to do.

The raven caws, but I can't tell if it's mocking or urging me onward.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. No regrets. I'm doing what I believe is the right thing. Even if it's highly questionable.

My hand hovers over the gash in the tree. Strangely, it's not so cold in there. The cries grow louder when I lean forward, beckoning me in.

Magic or not, fae or not, this child needs help.

I tuck my phone back in my pocket and drop on all fours. That's it. All or nothing.

"Alright, little monster," I breathe. "I'm coming."