My tale doesn't end there, for the end has yet to be written.

Christians. They’re determined to rid the land of any who worship the Horned One. Murdering all the druids, burning the temples, sometimes whole villages, and knocking over the standing stones.” The Lady’s face hardened. “This god of peace and love certainly likes to bathe the land in blood.

Peter," she whispered and reached out, touching his cheek. "My little Peterbird? You flew back to me.

Children like yourselves are full of magic, but the men have turned, they've lost their magic to the fear and hatred they harbor for all that they can't explain, control, or understand.

I am your forest, your earth, your eternity. I am your life. I am your death. I am all things forever and always. Love me. Love me. Forever love me.

Did he dare trust this insane boy?

Enough talk," Peter said, and his eyes flashed. "It's time to turn you three into killers.