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“Da?” I call, but my voice echoes back at me, swallowed by the silence. The familiar sounds—the babbling brook, the rustle of grass—disappear. I turn in a slow circle, and the vibrant glen I was so enchanted by now feels like a maze of tall, shadowy trees.

Panic bubbles in my chest as I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The butterfly lands abruptly on top of a large, rounded mound. The sun has all but vanished, leaving me alone in a forest that suddenly feels vast and strange.

“Okay, just breathe,” I whisper to myself, trying to remember the way we had come. I glance around, trying to find a familiar landmark, but everything looks the same—an endless sea of dark green and brown.

“Stay calm,” I mutter, but my voice trembles slightly. I am lost, and the magical adventure has turned into something altogether different. Something that makes my heart pound with fear. A silence unlike anything I’d ever witnessed before surrounds me.

That’s when the stone collides with the back of my head.

The memory hits me like a formidable wave. That familiar foreboding surges through me, echoing similarly to when I was yanked from that strange trance all those years ago. I had known better that day, much as I do now, to heed whispers of intuition when they warned of danger lurking in the shadows. But somehow, it was as if I was made to follow the butterfly that day. The compulsion to do so overwhelmed all reason.

Colina’s voice, soft but urgent, snaps me from my thoughts. She stands in the library doorway. “Yer mother’s askin’ for ye in the stables. It’s Aisling.” Gone is her intensity from earlier, now replaced by what appears to be a surface level tolerance.

My heart lurches at the mention of Aisling.

The stable is quiet when I arrive. Aisling stands in her stall, looking far stronger than she had this morning. Her eyes are bright, her posture steady—nothing like the weak, motionless state I left her in.

The second door, usually left open, stands firmly shut. I call for my mother, but my voice echoes in the silence. A wave of dizziness hits me out of nowhere, my stomach twisting as sudden nausea rolls through me. I grip a stalls frame, swallowing hard, trying to steady myself. Unease creeps in when there’s no answer, and I turn back to find Colina standing close behind me.

“Oh!” I start, the suddenness of her presence unnerving me. “Colina! You gave me a fright. Where’s Ma?”

She just watches me, unblinking, something cold flickering in her gaze. “It’s just the two of us.”

I force a laugh, though it sounds hollow. “Well, if Ma’s not here, I’ll be heading back then—”

“Stay.” Colina says, as she steps in front of the door, arms crossed behind her back. “Ye know, ye made this simple by walkin’ down here alone. Didnae think it’d be so easy to get ye down from yer room without a fuss. I worried that mouth of yers would ruin my fun.”

“Colina…” My voice wavers. “This isn’t funny. I don’t know what you’re on about, but I’ll not—”

“It’s no jest, Triona.” Her voice sharpens, eyes narrowing. “Ye should see the look on yer face, thinkin’ yer mother needed help. Nae… Aisling was just a tool to get ye here.” She lets out a dry laugh. “I had ye all believin’ she just fell ill this morning. Got ye here all alone.”

A sickening realisation grips me, tightening a knot in my stomach. “Colina, what have you done?”

“Poisoned her, of course,” she says with a cold, gleeful smile. “A small dose, mind ye. Wouldnae want my precious Finn to lose his mare. Just enough to weaken her, make them worry—force Finn to take yer precious stallion.”

My mind spins, trying to make sense of the situation. “Why? What could possibly make you do this?”

“Tried twice before to be rid of ye,” she says, the indifference chilling. “Never expected ye to last this long. Seven years I’ve waited, watchin’ ye take everything that should’ve been mine.” Her voice hisses as her gaze sharpens. “Thought maybe if that horse kicked ye hard enough, I’d be done with ye. But no, ye found the blackthorn. And then… he came along and saved ye that day, and ye took him from me with whatever sin ye promise him.”

My heart races, anger bubbling beneath my fear. “What day? Are you saying this is about Finn?”

“Dinnae say his name!” she snaps, eyes blazing with rage. “My hatred for ye started burnin’ when ye fibbed on my brother. Got him in trouble over a lie.”

“I did not lie! He forced himself on Dealla. I saw it!” My words come fast and sharp.

Her face twists, her shriek so loud it makes me flinch. “He did not! Ye bewitched everyone just like ye’re doin’ with Finn. Yer witch ways have him actin’ like a simple fool, hangin’ on yer every word. And the others… the way they look at ye, like ye’re something special. I ken better.”

Each of her words drips with fury. “He was meant to meet me here in the morn’, but ye—jealous, scheming witch—ye scared him away with that fight ye started!” Her eyes are wild as she takes a step closer, her rage palpable. “Finn. Is. Mine. And once ye’re gone, once he’s come to claim ye, Finn will have all that he needs... me.”

I ache to ask who she’s talking about, but I think better of it and hold my tongue. She’s not in a state to understand reality.

“Colina, I don’t know what you think is happening, but I don’t want—”

She laughs—a jagged, cruel sound. “Nae, Triona. All that ye say will be a filthy lie. Justice is comin’ for ye; by my hand if necessary.”

A memory hits me sharp and sudden, pulling me back to that day in the woods.

“Come on, Triona!” she says, her hand outstretched. Her smile is warm and inviting.