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For the first time since she'd started explaining everything, she looked as uncertain as I felt. Then she rested her damp hand on my arm and gave it a squeeze.

"But whatever happens, you won't be the only person there who has no idea what she's doing."

"You have a packet."

"A packet I can share with you."

She held out another chip, and I took it mostly because it gave my hands something ordinary to do.

We smelled the island before we saw it.

The first thing I noticed was the salt, sharper and heavier than it had been out on the open water. Then came the smell of wet stone and pine, along with something warmer beneath it that I couldn't quite place. It reminded me of animals kept indoors through winter, not unpleasant exactly, but close and living and unmistakably there.

The fog began to thin, opening in uneven gaps until the island finally came into view.

I had been expecting a school. Maybe a large old building with stone steps, long corridors, and a lawn no one was allowed to walk across.

Ironmoor looked nothing like that.

It stood on a cliff of black rock above the sea, with walls that seemed to rise directly from the stone beneath them. Towers and battlements cut into the gray sky, while narrow windows glowed with warm light from inside. There were so many of them that I couldn't take in the whole building at once. Gulls circled the highest tower, crying over the wind, and a long stone staircase climbed from the harbor to the entrance in sharp turns across the cliff face. Lanterns had already been lit along the steps, even though there was still plenty of daylight left.

Beyond the fortress, the island rose toward a ridge covered in dense trees. Fog lingered between them, catching in the branches and making it difficult to see how far the forest went.

Tamsin unfolded the rain-softened map from her packet and compared it with the ridge ahead of us. Her finger came to rest on a patch of printed trees.

"The Hollow Wood," she read quietly. Even she had stopped trying to fill every silence. "No helpful explanation for why it has a name like that."

I kept my eyes on the tree line and decided not to ask what happened in there. I suspected Ironmoor would answer that question for me soon enough.

The ferry eased into the harbor, where several other boats were already tied up. People were climbing onto the dock in small groups, maybe twenty altogether, carrying bags and staring up at the fortress with varying degrees of confidence. Most of them looked around my age or a few years older.

Some had clearly come together. They laughed, bumped shoulders, and talked as though this were the first day of university rather than a compulsory summons to an island fortress. Their coats were expensive, their boots looked new, and even their luggage seemed chosen rather than inherited. One girl had a suitcase that matched her handbag, a smooth honey-blonde bob, and a camel coat that probably cost more than everything I had packed.

I looked down at myself.

My rucksack had one strap that was beginning to fray. The sole of my left walking boot was separating at the toe. I was wearing my oversized gray hoodie from the vet practice under an old brown cardigan because it was cold and the cardigan was still the warmest thing I owned. My jeans had been a little tight in March and were considerably less forgiving now.

Standing among them, I suddenly felt painfully aware of every worn seam and bad decision in my wardrobe.

Tamsin nudged me with her elbow. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever you’re doing to yourself in your head. It’s written all over your face.”

She shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. It was covered in badges, and one of the straps had been repaired with thread that didn’t match the rest.

“I think those are Old-House kids,” she said, nodding toward the group ahead of us. “The packet says some families raise their children knowing about all of this, and judging by the coats, I’m guessing that’s them.” She bumped her shoulder against mine. “They were born prepared. I found out in a bathtub. We’re more interesting.”

I laughed, although it wasn’t quite true.

Tamsin was more interesting. She had an otter, a Kindred, and a place she was apparently meant to belong. Whatever was waiting for me inside Ironmoor, I was still arriving without the one thing everyone else seemed certain I had.

I pulled my rucksack higher on my shoulder and started climbing.

I counted all three hundred and eleven steps because numbers were easier to deal with than questions. By the time we reached two hundred, my thighs were burning and I was breathing hard enough to embarrass myself. Then a tall boy with perfect hair passed us two steps at a time without looking remotely tired, which gave me something simpler to think about. I hated him immediately.

At the top, the staircase ended beneath an arch cut into the wall. Above it, carved deep into the black stone, was the same symbol I had seen on the iron seal: a wolf and a dragon locked together, neither one overcoming the other.