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The mayor strolled away from the tree. Was he just leaving? But he returned with a verdure cloak around him. No, not justaverdure cloak—the gilded cloak. The spot of gold had spread to a quarter of the fabric. She saw it liquify and drip onto the mayor’s trouser leg, before reforming into its mirror state.

Her stomach dropped. The gold would spread, infect this tree. And if he came near her… she could not let it touch her or anything on her.

The mayor began climbing the tree. Grace scampered higher, reaching about fifty feet above the ground. He was slow, but he kept coming.

Grace looked around her. Could she leap into another tree?

No! The nearest tree was gilded.

Grace looked around.

Nothing else offered safe escape. Why hadn’t she thought this through?

The mayor had almost reached her. She didn’t dare climb to higher, flimsy branches, so Grace selected the thickest branch and walked out to its end. Another tree stood just a bit too far, but maybe she could make the leap.

She held her hands out to keep balance, preparing for the jump. Suddenly, the branch shook beneath her. She flailed, barely managing to regain her balance. The mayor stood onher branch and clearly had no sense of how to walk without falling; his attempts were going to send Grace plummeting to the ground.

The branch creaked.

No, it was going to sendbothof them plummeting.

Grace looked down. Fifty feet was so far. Her verdure cloak would protect her from the impact, but she could still land wrong, or on something particularly sharp. A fall from this height might produce enough force to pierce the cloth.

If she could simply jump to another branch in the same tree, the reverberation of her vault would knock the unstable mayor out of the tree. Even if she didn’t make it, this gave her the greatest chance of survival. If she missed, she’d just have to hope the wards on her cloak would be strong enough.

Would the gilded cloak provide the same protection to the mayor?

Grace didn’t know, but her options were gone. She pulled the hood over her head and wrapped the cloak tightly around herself, tucking bits of the fabric into the waist tie of her dress, pulling the knot tight. Hopefully, this would allow her to find the cloak’s edges quickly if she fell. She hoped to stretch it around her feet to protect as much of herself as possible.

Her preparation alone made her wobble, but she managed to steady herself again.

The mayor still huddled at the base of the branch, holding on to the tree’s trunk.

“You’re a coward,” Grace taunted.

“Insolent child.”

“You’ve always been a coward, hiding behind the sheriff and the patrolmen. Stealing into the homes of citizens at night? Even that was pitiful. You had to stage a false arrest to clear the Stantons’ home, and it didn’t even work. Your power is a façade. The people won’t follow you anymore. They’ve risen up. You willspend the rest of your life in jail, however long or short that life may be. You’re not the only one who executes criminals.”

“But you won’t say a word to anyone,” he snarled. “You proved that when you walked out of this copse two days ago. You even left behind my cloak. That was when I beat you. It was only a matter of time before I ordered your death. Your wretched family has always been a thorn in my side.”

Grace smiled, cocky, taunting. “And yet you did nothing! In the past you’ve found ways to push out those who displease you, and yet my family sat and mocked you at your own parties for years.”

The mayor glared at her in silent fury.

“What stopped you? Fear?” Grace asked.

“Never.”

“No? Politics?”

The mayor began to inch out on the branch, while Grace fought for balance. He had to come farther.

“No. That’s not it. Our crops?”

The mayor locked eyes with her.

“Our crops,” she repeated, and then laughed. “Our crops. But of course. We grow double what anyone else does in this town does. And we pay a large chunk of money for it, thanks to your exorbitant taxes. That’s a lot of coins in your purse. Because I never believed you actually put all that money into the town stores.”