When the final member of the council had shuffled out of the Hall of Meeting, I left and headed down the stairs, lowering my gaze whenever I passed an Elder or knot of council members. I hoped to look contrite, as if I were on my way to my room to do as I had been ordered. In truth, I did not want to invite any of them into a conversation. If that happened, they would walk with me while we spoke, and if they walked with me, they would realize I was not returning to my room. Not yet.

After a quick glance over my shoulder to make certain I was not being observed, I took the staircase down rather than up.

The armory was located on the third level of the Great Redwood. It sat completely unguarded, the final room at the end of a rarely used corridor. This lack of security, I knew, would come as a surprise to my handful of human friends, but it has always been this way, and has remained so even after the Kinslayer. The People do not steal. We are one, and all possessions belong to all People; therefore, there can be no theft. Though I could hear and smell that the corridor was empty, a nagging anxiety that I would be caught twice in one night caused me to glance over my shoulder once more.

Imagine how this would feel if I were attempting to do something evil instead of good, I thought. Wrongdoers must always have a pain in their neck from watching their backs.

As I slipped into the armory, a muffled stillness pressed in on me. The shelves and hooks growing from the walls were so full—feathered tomahawks, bearded spears, horned buffalo headdresses, and breastplates made of bone beads and leather covering every available inch—that they seemed to close like doors behind me, offering protection from disapproving eyes. I spent a moment in quiet reverence, allowing my gaze to roam freely over this library of war. Though these artifacts were mostly ceremonial, most was not all.

A few of the items were powerful, even deadly, and the People could make use of them if necessary.

And, in spite of what my father and the Elders had said, it was our responsibility to defend those who cannot defend themselves. I had not come here to directly defy the Elders’ will, but I would not stand by and do nothing. Who had helped us when the Kinslayer and Hogg enslaved the People? Who had fought him and rescued the Chiye-tanka from destruction? Humans. They might be a people weak in body, but they were strong in spirit. I would not leave them to face this monster alone, not when the chance had come to finally return the kindness they had done for us.

When the moment of quiet reflection passed, I continued through the weapons and armor toward the farthest wall. The object I sought lay on a shelf at the back of the armory, stored alongside the sacred rattles, medicine switches, war drums, circlets, and the rest of the magical items.

I found the necklace on a low shelf, covered in a layer of dust and lying like an afterthought between a turtle-shaped clay pot filled with a sandy greenish-brown mud and a long pipe dressed in buckskin and eagle feathers.

The collar of the necklace was crafted from four rows of carved bone and turquoise beads, made to fit snugly around a neck my size. The amulet, which would sit at the hollow of the wearer’s throat, was a stone medicine wheel. Each direction had been woven with a string of yellow, red, black, or white—the sacred colors—but inset at the crossing of the spokes were a pair of turquoise figures, one half the size of the other. A Little Brother and an Elder Brother.

Silky dust coated my fingertips when I picked the amulet up. I blew it off, then instantly regretted doing so. The tip of my nose itched as if I had rubbed it in a handful of grime. I scrubbed my bicep across my face, hoping to dispel the feeling with a patch of mostly clean hair, but the itch only increased and spread. It was the sort of maddening itch that comes from moving hundreds of ancient books from one shelf to another, the sort that lingers until you wash your hands and face with soap and water.

As if the layer of dirty grit, rotten wood chips, and dried blood that still covered my body and matted my hair were not enough. I took a breath to sigh, wishing my plan would have left time for a bath.

Then I turned my head and sneezed at the top of my lungs. Twice.

I know many females—Chiye-tanka and human alike—who sneeze delicately, much like newborn kittens still getting used to their tiny, adorable noses. My sneezes are neither delicate nor adorable. In the reverent stillness of the armory, on my mission of stealth, I sneezed violently enough to rattle the beads on a breastplate hanging nearby. Repeatedly. So violently that I nearly smashed my face on the shelf before me.

By the third sneeze, I managed to clasp my hands—still holding the dusty amulet—over my nose, stifling some of its force, but adding to the immediate problem. I sneezed three more times in quick succession before my nose was satisfied.

Eyes streaming, I sprinted back to the entrance of the armory and surveyed the hall for anyone who might have heard my sneezing fit and come to investigate.

Miraculously, the hallway was still empty. I wiped my eyes and face on a soft buckskin shirt, then balled the amulet in my fist and hurried back up the spiraling stairs to my room. Just because no one had come to investigate yet did not mean that no one was on their way.

The amulet I’d taken had been given to my people long ago, when men and Chiye-tanka still fellowshipped like tiyospaye—extended family. Perhaps the mage who crafted the amulet had known a day would come when men would forget the old ways and the People of the Forest would no longer be able to commune with humans openly. When worn, the amulet would give me the shape of a human female. My magicks and strength would remain, but to human eyes, I would be indistinguishable from any other Little Sister.

This was not a direct defiance of the Elders’ will. I was still going to fulfill their order to return the human to Inworld. I would just do so looking like one of them. And if the detective never saw me in my true form, but as a fellow human who happened to know about the evil creature he had been chasing, he would have no memories of the People for me to erase. We would defeat the creature together, side by side. I would, perhaps, even make a new human friend, restoring the bond between our peoples, and show my father and the Elders that protecting those who need us is not the dream of a naïve child.

Excitement swelled in my chest as I imagined our triumph over evil and the fears of my people; I had to bite the insides of my lips together to force a serious expression in place. It would raise suspicions to be caught looking delighted only minutes after I had been chastised by the entire council.

I forced myself to glare at the floor as I turned down the hallway toward my room. Discreetly, I clasped my hands together behind my back, the fist containing the amulet encircled by the other.

Enyeto was still guarding my door. His green eyes cut to me, then jumped back to staring dead ahead as if I were not there. He straightened his back and puffed out his chest. The image of that tuft of mussed hair falling into his eyes returned to my mind, and I realized the unruly tuft had since been raked into submission. He was making my attempt to look severely reprimanded very difficult.

I opened a very small window in my mental defenses and spoke to him with an appropriate level of embarrassment.

The Elders came to a decision, I sent. I am to return the detective to Inworld immediately. Your work here is complete, you can go back to your home. My deepest apologies for waking you with my actions.

Enyeto’s voice was a low rumble of thunder in my mind. Chief Chankoowashtay ordered me to stand guard over this room. He said no one goes in or comes out. He did not say, “No one except Winona goes in or comes out.”

Frowning was suddenly much easier.

If you do not let me in, Enyeto, how will I do as the Elders ordered me to? I gestured to the door behind him. I cannot magically move an entire room from the heart of the Great Redwood to Inworld. Did my father order you to make obeying the will of the Elders impossible?

No, but … He shifted from one massive foot to the other. The chief gave me this order. I should wait for him to dismiss me.

More and more I understood why my father had chosen Enyeto to guard the detective rather than any other. After the huge Chiye-tanka’s mistake of supporting his cousin’s doomed campaign to save the People by enslaving and corrupting us, Enyeto was incredibly wary of trusting the word of anyone but the chief himself. This was in its own way wise.

A thought occurred to me then, a way I could use this caution against him. Just thinking it made me feel as if I had somehow ingested the rancid stink of that creature. Still, it might be the only way to convince him to leave.

I stood to my full height—though nearly a foot and a half shorter than Enyeto—and raised my chin as if I had every right to pull this awful trick on him.

Enyeto Ironarms, I am the daughter of Chief Chankoowashtay, princess of the People of the Forest, heir apparent, and your future chieftain. If anyone is able to dismiss you from a post my father gave you, it is me.

He grimaced and shifted his weight again, clearly uncomfortable.

As you wish it, I said, sighing audibly. If you feel it is necessary to pull your chief away from matters he clearly feels are more important than dropping everything to dismiss a single guard so the daughter he ordered to return the human to Inworld with all haste—

All right! Enyeto stepped away from the door as if it had burned his backside. I did not mean to hinder the will of the Elders or cause extra work for the chief. I only wish to do as he ordered.

The grub of guilt that had gnawed at my stomach earlier this night was now gulping down fistfuls of entrails left and right, quickly growing into a hundred-pound parasite of self-loathing. Enyeto sought to do his job and show loyalty to my father … while I sought to sneak away behind my father’s back and undermine the will of the Elders. If either of us deserved to be treated with contempt, it was me.

I stared at Enyeto’s feet as I traded places with him, unable to meet his eyes.

Enyeto turned to leave.

I wrapped my hand around the handle of my door, but stopped.

I apologize, I sent to Enyeto’s retreating mind. I let go of the door handle to touch the pink barrette holding back my bangs. I shrugged although I knew he was no longer looking my way. This night has been long and not gone at all as I anticipated. I am sorry for—I am sorry.

It is nothing, Enyeto said, but I felt him distance his thoughts from mine, as if afraid of being stung again. You are my future chieftain. I should have done as told.

With that, he was gone.

My shoulders sagged. I exhaled heavily and shut my eyes, resting my forehead against the smooth, warm redwood of my door. The parasite of shame gleefully munched away inside my rib cage.

That had not been the action of an honest and fair future chieftain.

But the humans needed my help, I reminded myself. If I could rid them of that monster, then perhaps I would not be as vile as the last few moments had demonstrated.

I took a deep breath, attempting to resummon the conviction I had felt earlier.

Slowly, the fire rebuilt. I fanned it mercilessly, digging into the festering wound in my heart for kindling. Evil is wrong, dangerous. It corrupts even the most well-intentioned. Look what it had done to Achak, who was once kind and loving and good, concerned only with protecting our people. Look at how the evil he thought he could control had twisted him until he had done the most unforgivable of things—slaying and consuming his kin, enslaving our people, profaning all we held sacred.

Leaving me behind as if my love for him had never meant a thing.

Or perhaps it was not that my love had meant nothing to him, but that the power had just meant more.

Whichever it had been, Achak Kinslayer was proof that evil could not be allowed to flourish. If good could ever hope to win, evil must be destroyed root and branch. I straightened my shoulders and stood tall—there was no time for doubts or second-guessing. A monster roamed the world of men, one who needed to be stopped.

I checked up and down the hallway for anyone who might be watching, then fastened the magical amulet I had taken from the armory around my neck.