My heart thudded hard as I placed one cautious foot inside the Veil. After only a tiny step in, the temperature plunged, and when I exhaled, I could see my breath as a cloud of mist escaping my mouth.

I should stop. I knew I should stop. I’d only ever let my toes venture past the hazel tree boundary when I’d come out here before.

But as I stared into the gloom, I knew what that blue glint was—an ice berry. I was sure of it. The berry plants thrived in the cold, so it would make sense to see one inside its limits. The Shadow Veil was the perfect place for them to flourish.

Holding my foot in place inside the Veil, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I was both terrified and excited. Stepping in the Shadow Veil was forbidden.

I should just step back, forget any of this ever happened—but I didn’t. The promise of the berry—and the idea of breaking this rule—was just too much to resist. Besides, who was going to know? I had already established I was alone, so there would be no witnesses to my crime. And the reward was great. The thought of seeing Tamsen’s face light up when I gave him the berries—with the other gift I had for him—was worth the risk.

Never enter the Shadow Veil, I could practically hear my father say. You must promise me that you will stay away from it.

But why? I’d ask, as I always did to any of my father’s baffling pronouncements.

Tamsen always marveled that my father allowed me to question him so openly. Tamsen swore he never got away with that.

It is not safe. Unknown creatures lurk in the Veil. Those who are desperate and would seek to harm. You must do what I say. Promise me.

I had promised . . . and now here I was.

Shaking off that memory, I inhaled a trembling breath and took another cautious step. As I did, my whole body shivered. I didn’t know if it was because of the cold or because I was terrified. I was cold, but I was also fully within the Veil now, which was terrifying all on its own.

Peering into the darkness, I struggled to locate the ice berry. The shaft of sunshine had faded, and without the sun, the berries appeared dull and were harder to find.

Frustrated, I knelt and peered into the underbrush. I was hesitant to stick my hand in—I’d had too much experience with the fluxroot, and I didn’t love the idea of spending the day pulling tiny thorns from my fingers.

I looked around, taking in my surroundings. The bark of the trees closest to me was so dark it looked nearly black. The sparse leaves above my head were almost as dark. The ground beneath me was soft, which felt strange. The soil of the mountain and the village was hard and dry, so kneeling here felt like settling onto a pile of blankets.

I’d slept restlessly the night before—maybe out of excitement for Tamsen’s birthday—and as I bounced my knee on the ground, I wondered wildly what it would feel like to lie on this soft ground and close my eyes.

But I didn’t do that. I looked around again, keeping my eyes wide open. I had to be careful out here. I had heard all the stories about the Shadow Veil. About children who had ventured into it and never returned. Those were the stories parents told their children to get them to behave, but everyone swore they were true. The story went that the children had been eaten alive. Feasted upon by a shadowy witch who haunted the Veil, punishing anyone who dared to come into her domain.

I flexed my hands, the cold and nerves making my finger tingle. I’d heard the stories, but I was no longer a child, and my thirst for adventure outweighed my fear. I’d walked the river path more times than I could count and stepped right up to the edge all of those times. I’d only allowed my toes to cross into the Veil the first few times. Then a little more each time after. I’d inched further and further into the Shadow Veil, but this now was the farthest I’d ever gone.

And it felt fine. Colder and darker, but there was no witch waiting to eat me alive.

I shook my head and almost smiled as I stood straight, but that smile faded in an instant when something in the shadows moved.