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“We’ll wait until nightfall. Then you can use your cloaking spell and we can look through the windows.”

***

The minutes ticked by like hours. Lore wanted to throw up with every passing breath—her people’s blood could be spilled any moment, and she was stuck here, waiting for night to fall.

Finally, the moon rose and Lore felt her power build. It was a warm and comforting hum that whispered to her, reminding her that she was no longer the scared girl in the apothecary.

She had power now. She could do anything she put her mind to.

She and Asher left the others in the room with the cribs. They walked silently across the stone floor of the castle, cloaked and invisible to everyone they passed in the low-lit corridors. Asher led Lore down ocher-colored corridor after corridor until they exited through a small, nondescript door.

This part of the grounds was surrounded by high fences on all sides. It wasn’t like the manicured gardens the castle displayed for visiting nobility, nor was it like the lively, open space where the market was held. This garden was wild and untamed, looking more like a small and dense wood.

They continued along a brick path until Asher turned sharply onto a trail leading through low brush and tall trees. If he hadn’t shown her where to go, she would have missed it. They walked down the trail, still hidden by the cloaking spell.

Ahead was a tower. Lore craned her neck to see to the top of it.

Asher reached out to feel the stone, probably to test if they could climb it, but she grabbed his hand.

“Don’t touch that. It’s spelled,” she whispered.

“You can tell?”

“Yes. I can’t tell what the spells do, but there is a patchwork of them, woven together. I can see the shimmering ofSource.”

The tower itself was vibrating with it.

“Shit. Okay. I’d planned on crawling up there, but let me see if my magic will work.”

“Let’s get off the trail first, in case anyone comes down it.”

They veered from the path, walking through bushes now. Asher, as always, made no noise. Lore could hide from sight, but there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about the forestdebris crunching beneath her feet. She picked her way carefully, stepping only where Asher stepped, but she was still louder than she wanted to be.

They circled the structure. It was wider than she’d thought. Multiple figures were in the air, keeping guard as they flew over the grounds.

“Okay, this should be far enough.”

Asher leaned down and chose a young, curling vine and coaxed it toward the stone. In accordance with his gentle whisper, it grew strong and thick, hardening and stretching out. He directed the vine toward the stone wall, until the tip of the vine was within a few inches of the stone—it shied away from the tower. Its edges blackened and turned to ash.

Asher whispered faster, the crease in his brow deepening in concentration. But no matter what he did, the vine blackened and died where it touched the tapestry of enchantments on the tower.

He cursed and dropped his hands. Whatever spells were on the stone, his earth magic couldn’t penetrate them.

“Let me try something,” Lore said. She sat on the ground, crossing her legs and resting her wrists on her knees, and emptied her mind as much as she could while leaving a small thread of her magic to power the spell that was keeping them invisible.

She emptied her mind of the worries she felt for her loved ones and friends.

Her worry for the group she’d left behind in that room of cribs.

She even distanced herself from Asher, who was standing behind her, his hand on one of his swords, ready to protect her should anyone surprise them.

She cast her magic out around her.

With her eyes closed, she imagined that her magic was a web of fibers, one that looked like thousands of different coloredstrings. She unraveled them, then spread them out like a blanket. She first focused on the earth beneath her, then the plants all around her, followed by their stems and roots. Wild strawberries were growing here. And soon, in the spring, the flowers would bud and produce small, red fruit.

Spells began to filter through her mind, detailing all the things the sweet, tiny berries could be used for. She spared a moment of thought for the seeds and stems and leaves. If she harvested every piece of the plant, they could be used for a spell of desire. But she didn’t need this knowledge. Desire didn’t help her now.

She moved on, spreading the blanket farther out. There were so many types of ferns, each one with its own power living within its own tapestry of life. Each one could be harvested for different medicines, tinctures, and spells. Some could be used to heal, others to poison. Though her eyes were closed, she could see the grounds around her; whatever the moonlight touched, she could sense. The light was showing her a glowing map.