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Chapter Forty-Eight

“ H ere she comes,” Hollis said, standing from where he’d been squatting to unfurl a fern leaf beside Callan’s truck.

“Awww, did you two wait for me?” I teased, knowing that had been the plan.

“Wouldn’t think of leaving you behind, B,” Hollis said.

“All right, let’s review the plan one more time, and then get this show on the road,” Callan said, reining us in. He turned to me. “Do you have the quill?”

I nodded and reached into my bag then carefully drew out the prop quill.

“What do you think? I used the pictures Callan gave me and tried to match the aging on the feather. I also used my tree affinity powers to make some magical adjustments to the oak gall ink we procured in case anyone thinks to check it for traces of magic.”

Hollis took the prop quill from me and nodded. “I’m impressed. To an untrained eye, there would be no reason to be suspicious of this.”

“And to a trained eye?” I asked, looking nervously between them .

Hollis was still eyeing the quill, a contemplative look on his face. “Do you feel that?”

“Feel what?” I asked, shifting my weight on my feet.

“There’s magic in it,” Hollis said.

Callan, who had been farther from the quill as he loaded bags into the truck, stepped closer now.

“There is.” Callan turned to me, expression curious and surprised.

I tried to keep my face straight. The truth was, I had held back on letting them know the final piece of my plan. I hadn’t been sure I would be able to pull it off. Now, it was clear that I had.

“It wasn’t all me. You told me some of the protections you thought might be on the real quill. I thought I could try to imitate those here. That way, when the botanists put this quill out for display, it won’t be so obvious they have a fake.”

“Good thinking.” Callan’s voice was calm with a tinge of awe. But he didn’t sound shocked, and I realized it didn’t come as a surprise to him at all that I could figure this out. That sent a little thrill of joy through me.

“I doubt it would fool an expert, but it should buy us some time.”

“You’re brilliant, B,” Hollis said. The ferns surrounding the parking lot shimmied at his words.

“He’s right. As long as there are no historians of magical botanical artifacts monitoring the exhibit this week, this prop quill should be the perfect disguise,” Callan said.

I nodded, glad to have done my part.

“On that note, I think we have everything we need. Meadow will be waiting up tonight to let us in. Let’s head to the plane.” Callan shut the tailgate with a soft shove.

I placed the quill back into its carrying bag and slipped it into my backpack.

Hollis clapped Callan on the shoulder and saluted. “Lead the way, captain. ”

I raised my eyebrows and tried not to react too visibly. Callan was our pilot?

“You have your pilot’s license?” I asked.

“It’s pretty common for us to learn how to fly small planes since it’s the easiest way to get around between the conservatories or for field research. The magically enhanced biofuel makes it so that we rarely have to fuel up.”

“Okay but… you’re experienced, right?” I asked.

“I can vouch for him. He’s only crashed once or twice,” Hollis said with a wink.

Well, Callan Rhodes, aren’t you just full of surprises .

A couple of hours later, after I briefly nodded off during a surprisingly smooth flight in the four-seater plane, there was a shift in our equilibrium as we began our descent, and I peered out the window to see giant, lush trees looming below us in the dark and mist. A few minutes later, the glowing lights of moonflowers lining a small landing strip came into view, and with the grace of a leaf settling to the ground in the fall, Callan landed the plane.

I squinted around at the inky forest as we climbed out—the humidity clung to my skin instantly, even in winter—and I realized that, unlike the small public airport we had departed from on the outskirts of Weed, this must be a private airport just for magical botanists.

Aside from the moonflowers, there were a few other species of glowing plants guiding our way to a parking lot.

We gathered our bags, hopped into a black SUV, and headed deeper into the woods. There was no one else around, and when I glanced at the time in the vehicle, I saw that it was just after eleven p.m.

I knew the loose plan. We would crash at Meadow’s house tonight then head to the tree conservatory in the morning. I yawned, body tired despite how curious I was about this new world around me.

Despite my research into the tree conservatory over the past few days, there were no pictures anywhere, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. All I knew was that we were somewhere deep in the Hoh Rainforest of western Washington.

As we drove, my magical connection with the towering trees, mosses, and ferns was like rivers of liquid sugar rushing through my veins, sweet and comforting. The sheer volume of it was staggering, and I had to force myself to concentrate on the plan Callan and Hollis were discussing as we drove.

“You really think the two of you will be able to get in unseen?” Hollis was asking.

Callan cast his eyes to me in the rearview mirror then returned his attention to the road. “We are going to give it our best shot.”

“Well, you’d know better than I do. I’ve always heard the tree conservatory is tight on security.”

“You heard correctly,” Callan said, turning the steering wheel.

We shifted onto gravel as the car pulled up to a dark-green house with a large glass front exterior and Callan parked the SUV.

I couldn’t see much in the dark, but I grabbed my bag and followed Callan around the back of the house, our shoes crunching over pine needles and soft moss.

A figure emerged underneath a porch light, and I recognized the heart-shaped face of Meadow. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and leggings, her feet stuffed into fuzzy black slippers. “Look who finally arrived. My stowaways. Rhodes didn’t get you too airsick on the flight, did he?”

“I have to admit, it was pretty smooth,” I said.

“You all have a plan for the trees, right? I’m telling my parents you’ll be doing studies in the rainforest in the morning.”

“Rhodes thinks he has it covered,” Hollis said, joining Meadow on the porch .

“Just make sure you’re back in time for the annual strategic meeting.

” Meadow directed those words at Callan.

“Remember that we have to hike in and then change up there, so give yourself plenty of time. My mom thinks you’re all coming as part of a group project for school.

Personally, once we’re there, I don’t care what you all do, but we have to make an appearance. ”

“Annual strategic meeting?” Hollis scratched the back of his neck. “I think I’ll fake an illness tomorrow night.”

“Don’t let the name fool you. It’s the gala I was telling you about,” Meadow said as she opened a sliding door and ushered us inside. “Which, to be honest, is even more of a reason to play sick. But you all needed a cover for coming here, and I found us one.”