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Chapter Twenty-Three

“ N ot bad, local. You’re built like a climber. We’ll have you doing steeper pitches in no time.” He belayed me from my final climb with ease, and I met him on the ground.

“Um, I don’t remember agreeing to do this again.”

Callan laughed. “We’ll see.”

We packed up and started back down the trail. But before we reached the car, Callan stepped off the side of the trail.

“Why’d you stop?”

“We’re surrounded by forest. No one’s around. And we’re off campus, so your magic isn’t blocked. Let’s see how you’ve improved over the last few months.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” But I began to tap into the sensation of the trees around me, seeking their tissues and cells, feeling the water flowing in, the oxygen flowing out.

Immediately, I was invigorated. Would this sensation of connecting with the plants like this ever become less than amazing? “What do you want me to do?”

Callan pointed to two small trees, barely saplings. One was birch and the other cedar. “Try a Floracantus to graft those two trees together.”

I shot him a look. “You can’t be serious. Grafting takes months. Years.”

“Not for magical botanists.” Callan walked toward two other trees, muttered a few words in Latin, and within seconds, the cedar and birch trees were fused together, the two types of leaves sprouting off the branches in a brilliant synergistic display.

“Show-off,” I mumbled. I hadn’t heard his Floracantus, but bringing things together was a common task in magical botany. “ Colligate arbores .”

The two trees I was connecting with moved near one another in the soil the slightest bit, but nothing else happened. “I’m rusty,” I admitted.

“You’ll get there. Try again.”

We stopped into Vera’s Café on our drive home from Castle Crags. As far as I knew, Callan had never been here before, and I watched him take in the cramped, plant-covered space when we entered. His eyes went to the closest wall where the pasture painting hung.

“My mom did that painting,” I said, a beam of pride forming, as it always did, when I told people about it.

Callan stepped closer and studied it. “It’s beautiful. Enchanting, even.”

“I forgot you were an art critic,” I teased.

“But yeah, it is.” We approached the counter, and I ordered two of the famous lavender scones then straightened a few of the fall leaf ornaments on the countertop tree.

It was our cutting of Frank—the oldest tree in town—from last year’s harvest celebrations and resembled a Charlie Brown tree. I loved it .

“Is your aunt here?” Callan asked.

I shook my head. “She’s off today. She used to work seven days a week, but Bryce finally convinced her to take some time off now and then.”

“Smart man,” Callan said.

We received the hot, buttery scones, and I passed one to Callan, watching his face as he bit into it.

His eyes widened, and he studied the pastry. “Delicious. This could make Professor Sage jealous.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying! Vera’s is famous for these.”

“Can I order another one for the road?”

It was the best compliment someone could give. “Coming right up.”

I ordered a whole box of scones, knowing that Yasmin, Aurielle, and Coral would devour whatever Callan didn’t.

When we were back in the truck, a question occurred to me, and I pressed my luck, hoping Callan was sufficiently warmed up from the scones.

“Kaito said that if any of us had not accepted the invitation to the Root and Vine Society, you had ways of making us forget the location of the meeting place. What did he mean by that? How would he make us forget?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, local.”

I folded my arms across my chest and turned toward him in my seat, curiosity flaring. “Well, now I want to know more than ever.”

“The night you each received your summons to Evergreen Conservatory, we sprinkled something in your dinner.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“You asked.”

My eyes had narrowed while Callan’s face was firmly on the road ahead.

A lock of loose hair played near his forehead, and his skin was even more tan from the day in the sun.

His tattoos shimmered on his forearms as one hand rested on the steering wheel.

But even his current state wasn’t going to distract me from this conversation.

“What did you sprinkle in our dinner? And what does that have to do with us remembering the location?”

“Just a simple, enhanced herb recipe that impacts short-term memory. The effects were undone with the toast we offered you all.”

“You’re kidding.”

Callan shook his head.

“That’s a little scary. I’m not sure I trust you and Kaito with the Vanished Compendium .”

Callan laughed and put his hands up. “Hey, we didn’t create the rules.”

“And who did?”

“Those who founded the Root and Vine Society.”

I broached what I’d been thinking about since our conversation at Castle Crags. “Are your parents part of the faction looking for the Vanished Compendium ?”

Callan rolled his neck as if he had a stitch in it and nodded.

“So going for the book first… it means going against them. How about Hollis? Where do his parents stand?”

“Their views align with my parents. Consolidate power within affinity groups, bonus points if it means more power for the founders’ descendants. Hollis is as angry about it as I am. His family might be even more controlling than my parents are, if you can imagine that.”

That drew my eyebrows up. It was difficult to imagine boisterous, easygoing Hollis with domineering parents.

“So you two are like the protectors of all that is good?” I asked.

Callan barked out a laugh, and I smiled, the tension broken. “Sure, if you want to call it that.”

“Oh, I definitely want to call it that. Just maybe not in public. And if you’re a protector, I want in.”

Callan studied me, his eyes roving over my face as if searching for any sign that I hadn’t meant what I said. “Going against them could be dangerous.”

“Then why’d you invite me into the Root and Vine Society?”

“Because I had a feeling if I tried to keep it from you, you’d end up finding out and worming your way in anyway.”

“Hey!” I mocked offense. “No need to insult the worms. They’re good for the soil. But thank you. I appreciate you looping me in, even if that wasn’t your first instinct.”

“My first instinct is always to have you around, local. I can count on you to keep things interesting.” He glanced my way again, and his eyes locked on mine for a moment before returning to the road.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll end up protecting you from the scary elites. You and Hollis are inside men, which is good to have, but a fresh perspective never hurt a cause.”

“That’s true. Just remember, being a protector—as you call it—isn’t all fun and games. Having the Vanished Compendium fall into the wrong hands could be very, very dangerous. And trying to stop it from falling into those hands… That could be dangerous too.”

I studied him as I rubbed my hands together, not having expected such an honest answer. The tension in the firm set of his jaw was contagious, and I rolled my shoulders back and pressed my head against the headrest.

“Then if this book does still exist, I guess we’re just going to have to be the ones to find it.”