Daughters,

Snakes come in many forms, and you won't always know them by name. Who would have thought the deceiver would be deceived, in the end? For he was right, though his words were mistaken. And she was right too, though her words went unheeded. For their foolishness, I am here. Only I remain.

The flames rose high that night; our tongues praising the mother above and below and everywhere, our celestial Ostara, oh shimmering white woman, ultimate bringer of all. She gifted us with the life. It is in our breasts, in our beings—the very tenderness we consume. We sustain one another, we share our essence, and it flows amongst us, and we grow stronger.

This was how it was, once. No longer do we share our love, our touch. Where once we were brilliant, now it is my cowardly flesh, though once it was his. Now it is my sorrow graven on stone. Now the worm waits for me.

~ the woman in the woods

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"Are you real? Are you actually here? Oh my God, Wolf! I can't even believe it! These people—and Peter! They have Peter! You have to help me—"

"Minn! Stop! Stop. Calm down, all right? It's ok." Wolf gripped her upper arms, shook her gently.

The reality of his presence settled in, and a thousand questions began to take precedence over her initial elation. Minn studied the serious features of her brother's face, the heaviness in his eyes, the strong line of his stubbled jaw. "How did you find me?"

Wolf let her go. "Your phone, Minn. I traced it."

"Oh, right."

"You'd been calling or texting every day. I got suspicious, and when I couldn't get a hold of you, I came out here right away."

Somewhat put off by his lack of enthusiasm, Minn frowned. "Police? Did you bring them? Or, or anyone?"

Wolf shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"You just came out here by yourself? To the middle of nowhere?"

"I did all these trails nine months ago, remember?"

"With Shannon." Minn turned, stared absently into the fruit trees. Something clicked into place in her thoughts, but before she could verbalize it, Wolf reclaimed her attention.

"So I didn't feel nervous, coming here. Drove to Asheville, hiked for a while, and here I am. I've found you. You're safe."

He tried to hug his sister again, but Minn held back. "Wait, Wolf. Just—hold on. My phone's been dead a few days. I don't even have it. It broke against a tree. And we're in the middle of nowhere . . . Peter and I couldn't find our way out—"

"Do you think I'm lying to you?"

"No!" she rushed to assure him. "I'm just—I'm confused. But I'm so happy you're here, however you did it. These people are crazy, Wolf. They've been drugging me, and . . ." But she didn't want to tell him about the cleansing; it was too humiliating. "They've taken Peter! They won't let me see him. We have to find him and get out of here."

Against expectation, Wolf didn't jump to agree or promise his aid. Instead, he offered his sister a knowing sigh, a condescending furrowing of his brow, and sat himself down on one of the numerous wooden platforms scattered through the grove. Minn's stomach twisted into a knot. What was going on with him?

"Always so innocent, aren't you? God, to the point of ignorance. I love you, but sometimes I just wish you saw everything for what it is, not the way you want it to be."

At first abashed, Minn quickly felt anger rise within. "I don't know what you're talking about, but you're scaring me. What—"

"Shannon and I came through here. Months ago. On purpose. And I wanted you to come, too, you and—and Peter. I wanted you both to see this place. It's why I suggested you come here, why I told you to take that trail."

He had told her, Minn recalled. When she'd first mentioned a vacation—or had it been Wolf himself who'd suggested she and Peter take one? She'd been uneasy about Peter, about how the neighbors had reacted to his return after everything happened . . . but come to think of it, it had been Wolf who'd suggested the vacation. Hike the Blue Ridge Mountains, he'd said. They'll be so amazing this time of year. Gorgeous, with everything starting to bud, the weather cool enough—and he'd insisted on the best trails, the ones they should hike alone.

"What are you even saying? You wanted us to come here?"

His silence was confirmation enough.

"But . . . why? And how? You couldn't have known we'd get lost! Or where we'd wander, that we'd find this place."

"It doesn't matter how. The why's more important."

Minn had never felt closer to losing it. Whatever he was telling her was impossible! Her brother, her beloved twin—he'd always been there, always cared, and helped, and . . . "Then why? They've tortured me, Wolf! The things they've—and you—I—I don't understand!"

The woman's knees began to shake too much. She sank to the ground, but her brother forcefully pulled her up. "Look at me! Look at me, Minn! It's not as crazy as it feels, all right? You're in shock, but it's going to make sense, I promise you. Have I ever hurt you? Have I ever led you astray?"

Minn meekly shook her head, partially out of uncertainty and partially out of resignation.

"I found out about this place a few years ago, when I tried to figure out where everyone had gone."

His sister looked at him questioningly. "Who?"

"Our family. From when we were kids."

"But you told me not to try to find them! You told me that a long time ago, when I wanted to find our mother. You yelled at me for it! You said—"

"I know what I said! It doesn't matter. Most of them went off to do other things, get married or go live off the grid elsewhere or keep cycling in and out of jail, but mom—she came here. I tracked her down; it was why I came with Shannon, because I wanted to find her."

"Mom is here?"

"Minn—"

"I haven't seen her! I'd remember her face! I know I would!"

"No, listen—"

"Maybe I've seen her already and didn't even realize it! If mom's here, I—"

"Listen! She's dead! The woman I came to find, they told me she'd died long before Shannon and I came."

Minn's excitement dissipated. "Oh. Well, I guess . . . it's not a big loss. I didn't really know her, anyway." She drooped into thought for a brief moment, then closed her eyes and pushed any emotion away. "So you came, and . . . you what? You liked it here? Enough to want me to see it?"

"Yeah, basically."

"You could've just told me that. We could've all come together."

"No, they don't want tourists. They're isolated because they want to be, barely wanted me and Shannon here. I didn't want to risk you telling anyone about this place." Wolf looked around, his eyes catching and consuming a bit of moonlight. "Thought it best you experience it yourself, first. It's wild, isn't it?"

His obvious appreciation for the village profoundly unsettled her. "I just want to get out of here. I want to go home."

"Minn," Wolf smiled at last, "this is like traveling back in time. These are good people; they're just different. But their way of doing things is so interesting. You know they revere women—absolutely worship them?"

"Yeah, and they hate men."

"No! No. They don't hate men. The men have their own place; as a female I'd think you'd appreciate how they flip things around. The women have incredibly strong bonds with each other."

Minn thought of Faith and her missing hair and fingers; she thought of the way those girls had violated her during that forced cleaning; she thought of the strange visions of grown women and young teens and the bizarre things they'd been doing—no. Wolf was wrong. They didn't worship women.

"Can you give this a chance, Minn?" Wolf was saying, cupping her face in his hands "Can you just trust me?"

She didn't know how to answer. Her gut told her what it'd been telling her all along: something was intensely off, here. But she'd always trusted Wolf. He'd always been there. He was here, now, and whatever her reservations, she did trust him, she had to—there was no one else.

"Come to the Osterfuerer. When they told me about this holiday, I knew I had to come back. They told me that it was their best festival, so much excitement. The traditions they have, they're from old Germany. Weren't our own ancestors German? And it's all kind of mixed with the customs of the region. It's so fascinating. You teach art and culture—think of what you can add to your lessons. Just come with me, all right?"

He started to move away but she caught his hand. "After tonight, if I want to leave, will you help me and Peter get out of here?"

Half of Wolf's mouth pulled up at the corner. "Yeah, all right. If by tomorrow you and Peter both want to go, we'll go."

"Promise?"

Wolf uncurled a pinky and held it up, waited quietly until she hooked her own around his. "Promise," he echoed, and, his smile broadening, he drew her out of the orchard and back toward the center green, jokingly commenting on her nice dress.

From quite a distance, the glow of the bonfire was visible. Massive flames illumined the area, coloring the atmosphere with an ombré of gold to red to indigo to black and sending sparks of glowing ash up into the air. A sense of awe filled Minn, in spite of the maelstrom of confusion within. Wolf held her hand, had to pull probably a little more than he would've liked due to the hesitation clawing at his sister. Men and women, even a few children were gathered around the Osterfuerer, chanting in words Minn couldn't make out. As she and her brother drew near, she realized that no one seemed to be speaking the same language, and whatever languages they did speak, none seemed to be English. Then it occurred to her—they were speaking in tongues, their own invented words. The way they swayed about enhanced the impression that every one of them was some kind of possessed, as if spirits were inhabiting them. The effect was perturbing. And yet when Minn and Wolf approached the fringes of the crowd, the people were aware enough to part for them. Many paused their chanting to acknowledge the pair, to allow them to draw nearer the flames. Had Wolf not been with her, Minn never would've entered the crowd.

As soon as they were surrounded by bodies, the path behind them closed, and Minn was suddenly overwhelmed with the sensation of being in a mosh pit at a concert, only in this mosh pit, there were snakes.

Snakes!

Yes! She hadn't noticed at first, been intent only on seeing the people, but now that she was enclosed, Minn saw that many of the crowd members held black snakes in their hands. The men held the reptiles like limp rope at their sides as they hopped up and down and others, mostly women, lifted the sinuous things above their heads and dangled them over their mouths or eyes or necks, allowed them to slip down their arms. As Minn tried to back away from anyone who held one of the unpredictable creatures, something crashed into the burning logs of the bonfire, snapping Minn toward it. Before she could figure out what it'd been, the silhouette of a person detached from the edge of the crowd, blundered toward the flames, and leapt up into them. If he screamed, the noise was drowned by the crackling.

Minn whirled, aghast, toward her brother, whose dark waves hovered right above his shoulders, but he was too absorbed in what was going on around them and apparently oblivious to the dark bodies who every so often jumped or were thrown into the fire. The chanting rose to fever pitch; the heat was as intoxicating as any alcohol; the shock and horror of what was occurring suggested it was all a freakish hallucination. Minn hadn't any idea what she was witnessing or what she should do, knew only the whirlwind of all that was happening and the reassuring hand of her brother firm in her own. When Sister Dorothea was suddenly beside her, nothing about her appearance seemed abnormal. The elder woman drew so near that Minn could feel the old-person fur of her cheek against her own, felt the hot breath of her words as she croaked them out: "Only the strong may take the bite, Sister Minnow. The madness drives out the weak."