In the dead of night, Lily swam close to the muddy bottom of the lake behind her cabin.
She had been underwater for nearly two minutes—a personal record achieved through fear, desperation, and more adrenaline than good sense. She had never pushed herself this far before.
Small bubbles began escaping her nose. Her chest burned, and darkness crept into the edges of her vision.
She could not remain beneath the water any longer.
Lily angled toward the shoreline and surfaced among the tall reeds and lily pads. Only the upper half of her face broke the surface as she drew in slow, careful breaths through her nose, fighting the urge to gasp.
A frog croaked beside her.
Lily turned slightly and found Mister Frog sitting upon a nearby lily pad, staring at her as though she were the one behaving strangely.
"Shh," she barely whispered.
The lakeside appeared peaceful.
Her cabin stood in the distance, smoke still curling from its chimney. Tall grass shifted gently in the night breeze, while the forest formed a dark wall beyond the opposite shore. Aside from Mister Frog, the distant beating of wings, and the quiet movement of water, nothing seemed disturbed.
Then Lily heard whispering.
It came from somewhere to her right, followed by bushes rustling along the far side of the lake.
A branch snapped to her left.
Her stomach tightened.
They had spread out along the shoreline.
The four men were searching the lake from both directions, remaining quiet so they could hear her if she surfaced.
Lily sank lower until only her eyes and nose remained above the water. Holding the reeds for support, she breathed as slowly as possible and began easing deeper into the grass.
Every stalk seemed determined to betray her.
The reeds scraped together with faint dry whispers. Lily stopped each time, listening for any reaction, but the noises along the shore gradually moved farther away.
Her heart continued pounding.
She waited until the pressure inside her head weakened, suggesting the nearest danger had passed. Then she moved again, gently pushing through the reeds until her bare feet touched the soft mud beneath the shallows.
There she stopped.
The night had become unnaturally silent.
Perhaps the men had moved on.
Or perhaps they had stopped to listen.
Lily remained motionless, chilled water reaching above her chest. She could stay there for hours if she had to, though the thought of spending the entire cold night standing in lake mud was deeply unpleasant.
Then something heavy landed upon the distant shore with a dull thump.
More footsteps followed, moving away from the cabin.
They had passed her.
This was her chance.
Lily pushed carefully through the reeds. The stalks rustled around her, but no louder than they might have beneath the breeze. When she reached the shore, she crawled into the tall grass and slowly raised her head.
Nothing moved.
She pulled herself from the water, rose into a crouch, and stared toward the nearby tree line.
Once she reached the forest, she would have cover. Without torches or dogs, four men would struggle to find her among the trees. The tall one with the bow might be a tracker, but Lily knew this forest better than any outsider.
She ran.
Cold water streamed from her clothes as she crossed the open ground. The trees were only a stone's throw away.
Then pain prickled sharply across the back of her skull.
Danger.
No—not merely danger.
Down.
Lily threw herself flat.
An arrow hissed over her head and struck the tree ahead with a heavy thunk.
She stared at the shaft trembling in the bark.
Then a man shouted from across the lake.
"There she is! Get her!"
Lily scrambled upright.
Footsteps charged toward her from the right. Her danger sense flared again, and she twisted left just as another arrow cut through the darkness.
She ran in a wild zigzag, desperate to reach the trees before the archer corrected his aim.
Something struck her from behind.
Lily crashed onto her knees as white-hot pain exploded through her left shoulder.
"AAAAAAAH!"
The scream tore from her with all the terror and pain of the little girl she was.
Her left arm collapsed uselessly beside her. For one confused moment, Lily did not understand what had happened. Then her right hand reached across her body and touched a smooth wooden shaft protruding from her shoulder.
An arrow.
Behind her, the archer shouted triumphantly.
"Ha! I hit her! I got the little witch!"
Lily clenched her teeth against the pain and forced herself upright.
Her shoulder felt as though someone had driven a burning iron through it, but she could not stop. One man was charging from her right, another from the left, and the others would not be far behind.
Adrenaline carried her into the forest.
She crashed through the first line of trees and shoved through a wall of bushes, branches clawing at her wet skin. Heavy footsteps reached the place where she had fallen only moments later.
They were directly behind her.
"Where are you?" a man called through the darkness. "There's no point running! Those short legs won't carry you far!"
Lily glanced back.
Beyond the bushes stood the short hooded man, turning from side to side as he searched for movement.
Then something rustled ahead.
A huge silhouette pushed through the undergrowth, huffing heavily as he searched between the trees. The broad brute had circled around and was now blocking Lily's path.
She stopped instantly and slipped behind the thickest nearby trunk. Dropping to her knees, she pressed herself against the bark and held her breath.
The men were close.
They must have guessed she would leave the lake for the forest. Perhaps they had been waiting for her to surface all along. The other two could not be far behind.
Lily looked up.
The tree had several low branches and a rough trunk that would normally have been easy to climb. From above, she could hide among the leaves or move through the branches while the men searched below.
But her left arm hung uselessly at her side, and the arrow shaft caught against everything whenever she moved.
She could not climb like this.
Her gaze dropped toward the arrow.
Removing it was dangerous. Old Bruce knew that pulling an arrow from a wound could worsen the bleeding and cause even more damage.
But Lily's body was not normal.
The light-heart could heal her—if the arrow was no longer trapped inside her flesh. If she removed it quickly enough, perhaps her shoulder would close and her arm would begin working again.
She needed that arm.
Boots crushed leaves nearby.
Lily pressed the back of her head against the tree and looked up through the branches at the stars. Her right hand closed around the blood-slick shaft.
Then she gritted her teeth and prepared herself for what came next.
The slightest movement sent a bolt of agony through her shoulder. Her whole body jerked, and a scream rose into her throat, but she clenched her teeth and forced it down.
Tears flooded her eyes.
She tightened her grip, bent the shaft as hard as she could, and—
Snap.
The arrow broke.
"Aaaah!"
The cry escaped before she could stop it.
Lily nearly collapsed against the tree, panting through gritted teeth. Half the shaft remained buried in her shoulder, but the broken length would no longer catch against every branch if she tried to move.
For one brief moment, she felt relief.
Then the bushes directly ahead of her burst apart.
The broad, heavyset man charged through them.
Lily could not see his face clearly beneath the hood, but she did not need to. Everything in his posture promised violence.
She turned to run.
He caught her before she had taken three steps.
A heavy arm struck her across the back and drove her face-first into the forest floor. Lily screamed as his weight came down upon her, crushing her against the damp earth like an immovable wall.
"Hah!" the man laughed. "There you are! You gave us a fine chase, girl, but now it's time to pay for it."
"No! Let me go!"
Lily kicked and clawed at the ground, but he barely shifted. One of his hands ripped the broken piece of shaft from her grip and flung it aside.
Then she felt his fingers close around what remained of the arrow.
Lily froze.
"Hold still," he said. "This is going to sting."
"No—wait!"
He pulled.
The arrow tore free from her shoulder.
"Aaaaaaah!"
Pain exploded through Lily's body. The taste of blood filled her mouth, and warmth spread rapidly across her back and chest. Her vision dimmed for a moment as dizziness washed over her.
Still, she fought.
Her bare feet scraped furiously against the ground as she tried to crawl away, but the man's weight held her down.
Then something red streaked from the darkness.
Scar slammed into the man's side and sank his teeth into the arm pinning Lily.
The man roared.
"You filthy little beast!"
He swung his arm violently, throwing Scar through the air. The fox vanished into the brush with a pained whimper.
"Scar!"
The moment the pressure eased, Lily scrambled upright and ran.
A hand closed around her ankle.
She crashed forward, her chest striking a thick tree root hard enough to drive the breath from her lungs. The man dragged her backward through the leaves until she lay beneath him again.
A low growl sounded from the darkness.
Scar emerged between the trees, blood darkening his jaws. Two more red foxes appeared beside him—full-grown males Lily recognized from around the lake. They were Scar's sons, no longer kits but strong adults nearly the size of small dogs.
All three lowered themselves to attack.
Then the short man stepped from the shadows behind them, holding a knife in each hand. Moonlight glimmered along the blades.
Lily's pain vanished beneath sudden terror.
"No!"
She clawed at the ground, found several acorns, and hurled them toward the foxes.
"Go away! Run! All of you!"
The foxes flinched but did not retreat. Their eyes remained fixed upon the armed men.
Voices called through the forest behind them.
"Did you catch her?"
"Where is she?"
The other two men were close.
Lily's eyes filled with desperate tears.
"Scar, please! Go! Save yourselves!"
Scar looked at her.
For a terrible moment, Lily thought he would ignore her and charge anyway.
Then another voice drew closer. The three foxes glanced toward the approaching men, back toward Lily, and finally retreated into the undergrowth.
Scar remained for one heartbeat longer.
Then he disappeared after his sons.
The heavy man laughed beneath Lily.
"Wise choice, little witch. Calling off your pets before we turned them into supper."
The short man stared after the foxes, sounding almost delighted.
"So she truly is a witch. I knew it."
The remaining two men arrived moments later.
Together, they dragged Lily to her feet as though she weighed nothing. One twisted her injured arm behind her back. Another caught her by the hair and yanked her head upward when she tried to bite him.
"Shut up!"
"Let me go!" Lily screamed. "Get hands off me! I kill all of you!"
The men only laughed.
They spoke excitedly among themselves as they carried her toward the cabin, arguing over whether she possessed witchcraft, druid magic, or some rare northern blood. Lily did not correct them. She was in too much pain to care what explanation they invented.
She kicked, cursed, and struggled the entire way.
One man finally struck her across the side of the head and told her to be silent.
Lily answered by trying to bite him again.
When they reached the cabin, they threw her onto the broken floor.
The impact knocked the breath from her lungs. She curled on her side, choking and gasping as pain pulsed through her wounded shoulder.
The tall, thin archer crouched beside her and held out his injured hand. Blood covered the cut Lily's knife had made when she dropped it down the chimney.
"Look what you did," he said quietly. "You little bitch."
Lily tried to crawl away.
He caught her by the jaw and forced her to look at him.
"You're going to pay for that. And don't call us cruel. We gave you a choice. You chose poorly."
Two of the men rolled Lily onto her back. One pinned her wrists above her head while another forced her legs apart and held them against the floor so she could not kick.
She coughed until she finally managed to speak.
"What you want from me? I have nothing! Let me go!"
The fire burning in the hearth lit all four faces.
They were dirty, tired, and smiling.
None of them answered.
Then Lily noticed the archer beside the fireplace.
He was stirring something among the coals with a long iron handle. When he drew it out, the end glowed orange-white with heat.
A small star had been forged into its tip.
Lily went completely still.
The archer studied the glowing brand with a slow, unpleasant smile.
Then he turned toward her.
Their eyes met.
Cold terror spread through Lily's body.
He brought the iron closer to her face.
She thrashed beneath the men holding her, but they only tightened their grip. The heat touched her cheek before the metal itself came anywhere near her skin.
"No!" Lily screamed, twisting her face away. "Please! Do not!"
The brand followed.
She could smell hot iron and burning soot.
Realizing what they intended to do shattered the last of her defiance. Lily struggled harder, tears streaming freely down her face.
"Please! I give you anything! Just do not burn me! Please!"
The heat withdrew slightly.
The archer smiled.
"Lily the Shining Star," he said. "Let us play a game."
She stared at him through her tears.
"A game of truth and lies. Answer honestly, and perhaps we place only the collar around your neck. Lie to me, or give me an answer I dislike…"
He turned the glowing star so she could see it clearly.
"Well. You already understand."
Lily shook her head frantically.
"No. Please. Do not do this."
"You will have five questions," he continued. "And five chances to satisfy me."
He lowered the brand until its heat washed over her skin again.
"Let us begin."
Lily pulled against the hands holding her until her wrists burned.
"Please!"
"Do not worry," the man said softly. "I am not going to hurt you—provided you tell me what I want to know."
The smile on his face revealed the lie.
"What is your true name?" he asked. "Your complete name. And what family do you belong to? Give me names, little star. Satisfy my curiosity."
Lily stopped struggling.
Why did they care about her family?
She searched desperately through what little she knew and answered as honestly as she could.
"I do not know! I swear! I am only Lily. Mama called me little Lilypad. My mother name Lili, and my father is Rob from Einsway. That all I know. I live here alone. Please… please do not hurt me."
For a moment, the archer merely watched her.
Then he slowly shook his head, disappointment crossing his face.
"Wrong answer."
Horror seized Lily as the glowing iron moved toward her face.
She gritted her teeth and twisted desperately beneath the hands holding her. The heat washed across her cheek—
Then another hand caught the archer's wrist.
The largest of the four men stood over him, his thick beard and heavily muscled frame lit by the fire.
"Not the face," he warned. "Damage the merchandise too badly and we lose coin."
The archer rolled his eyes.
Without hesitation, he lowered the iron and pressed it against Lily's wounded shoulder instead.
"Aaaaaah!"
Her scream tore through the cabin.
The iron hissed against bloodied skin, filling the air with the sickening smell of burning flesh. Lily's body arched beneath the men holding her as the star-shaped brand burned itself into the wound left by the arrow.
When the archer finally pulled it away, Lily collapsed against the floor, sobbing and gasping.
He admired the mark with a satisfied smile.
"See? I can be merciful. I even stopped the bleeding for you." He leaned closer. "You should thank me. Otherwise, we can continue where we left off."
Lily could barely hear him over her own cries.
"No," she pleaded. "Please… no more."
The archer turned back toward the fireplace and thrust the brand into the coals.
"Turn her over," he ordered. "Perhaps she needs treatment on the other side as well."
The men rolled Lily onto her stomach.
The heavyset man hesitated.
"You certain about this?" he asked. "What if the girl is telling the truth?"
A sharp smack sounded, followed by his offended grunt.
"You idiot," the archer snapped. "You heard her sing and play that lute. Do you truly believe some child raised alone in the woods taught herself all that?"
He gestured toward Lily.
"Look at her. Her skin is clearer than a noble daughter's. Her teeth are perfect. She speaks strangely, knows foreign songs, and commands animals. Whatever she is, she is hiding something valuable."
The larger man gave a slow, thoughtful, "Oh."
The brand scraped from the fire.
Lily heard it moving closer.
Heat spread across her upper back.
She had to say something.
But what?
The men were not entirely wrong. There had been no lute at the cabin, no written music, and no teacher they could find. They would never believe the truth—that she remembered another life, another world, and songs learned from games and machines that did not exist here.
Just before the iron touched her, Lily cried out.
"Wait! Wait! I explain!"
The brand stopped close enough that its heat still burned against her skin.
"Then explain," the archer said. "What is your family name? What house do you belong to?"
Lily's thoughts raced.
She needed something believable. Something close enough to the truth that she could remember it.
"I belong to no noble house," she said quickly. "I have no family here. My parents gone nearly ten winters."
The men listened.
"But I had teacher," Lily continued. "A traveling bard named Dandelion. He taught me music and lute."
That was not entirely false. Dandelion had inspired Bruce to learn, even if the bard had never truly existed in this world.
"And yes," she admitted desperately, "I have little magic. Small miracles only. I understand animals sometimes. I heal quickly. But I not dangerous."
The archer's eyes narrowed.
Lily rushed onward.
"I also know things. Many things. My magic gives visions and knowledge from faraway places. I call it World Wide Web. You ask questions, maybe I help. I could be useful!"
Silence followed.
For one hopeful moment, Lily thought she had convinced them.
Then the archer shook his head.
"Dandelion?" he repeated. "Never heard of him."
"He travel far away."
"And this World Wide Web?"
"Very powerful knowledge place."
His mouth twisted into a humorless smile.
"You are trying to be clever."
"No! It true!"
"Too bad I am not so easily fooled."
The brand struck her upper back.
Lily's body locked.
"Aaaaaah!"
Pain swallowed everything.
Her ears rang. Her vision darkened, and every muscle in her body pulled tight as she tried not to scream again. The smell of hot iron and burned skin filled her nose.
She did not know how long it lasted.
A few heartbeats.
An eternity.
When awareness returned, Lily was lying on her back again. The archer stood above her, speaking, but his words reached her only as distant sounds beneath the ringing in her ears.
The ceiling shifted in and out of focus.
Her strength was gone.
Her thoughts felt broken apart, too weak to form any plan. For the first time, Lily wanted to stop fighting. She wanted the pain to end, no matter what happened afterward.
Something cold and stiff closed around her neck.
Lily blinked.
The men released her arms and legs. Her hands immediately rose to the object around her throat.
Leather.
Iron strips had been sewn inside it, making it too strong to tear. A small metal ring rested against the front, and a rope had already been tied through it.
The collar.
Lily followed the rope with her eyes.
Its other end rested in the bearded man's fist. He gave it an experimental pull, forcing Lily's head forward, and laughed.
"Welcome to the Brotherhood, slave."
The others smiled down at her.
Lily touched the collar again, unable to believe it was real.
Old Man Al had warned her. A lone child without family, papers, or anyone to speak for her could disappear. Someone could place a collar around her neck, claim she belonged to them, and carry her away before anyone asked questions.
Now star-shaped brands burned upon her skin, and a rope connected her neck to the hand of a stranger.
Had she truly become their slave?
And what exactly was this Brotherhood they spoke of?